Cowardy, cowardy cus--" "Why don't you send that kid home ?" demanded Master Hardy, eyeing the fair songstress with strong disfavour.
"You leave my sister alone," said the other, giving him a light tap on the shoulder.

"There's your coward's blow." Master Hardy made a ceremonious return.

"There's yours," he said.
"Let's go behind the church." His foe assented, and they proceeded in grave silence to a piece of grass screened by trees, which stood between the church and the beach.

Here they removed their coats and rolled up their shirt-sleeves.

Things look different out of doors, and to Miss Nugent the arms of both gentlemen seemed somewhat stick-like in their proportions.
The preliminaries were awful, both combatants prancing round each other with their faces just peering above their bent right arms, while their trusty lefts dealt vicious blows at the air.