fistes. He was mad as a dumb dog--just frothing wid rage; but he had
no chanst wid me in reach, or learnin', or anything else.

'"Will ye hear reason?" sez I, whin his first wind was run out.

'"Not whoile I can see," sez he. Wid that I gave him both, one after
the other, smash through the low gyard that he'd been taught whin he
was a boy, an' the eyebrow shut down on the cheek-bone like the wing
av a sick crow.

'"Will ye hear reason now, ye brave man?" sez I.

'"Not whoile I can speak," sez he, staggerin' up blind as a stump. I
was loath to do ut, but I wint round an' swung into the jaw side-on
an' shifted ut a half pace to the lef'.

'"Will ye hear reason now?" sez I; "I can't keep my timper much longer,
an' 'tis like I will hurt you."

'"Not whoile I can stand," he mumbles out av one corner av his mouth.
So I closed an' threw him--blind, dumb, an' sick, an' jammed the jaw
straight.

'"You're an ould fool, _Mister_ Bragin," sez I.

'"You're a young thief," sez he, "an' you've bruk my heart, you an'
Annie betune you!"

'Thin he began cryin' like a child as he lay. I was sorry as I had
niver been before. 'Tis an awful thing to see a strong man cry.