"I 'm 'Reddy' Simpson, an' you ain't licked the fambly till you 've licked me." The gang cheered admiringly, and Reddy stripped a tattered jacket preparatory for the fray.
"Git ready," he said to Joe.
Joe's knuckles were torn, his nose was bleeding, his lip was cut and swollen, while his shirt had been ripped down from throat to waist.
Further, he was tired, and breathing hard.
"How many more are there of you Simpsons ?" he asked.

"I 've got to get home, and if your family 's much larger this thing is liable to keep on all night." "I 'm the last an' the best," Reddy replied.

"You gits me an' you gits the kites.

Sure." "All right," Joe sighed.

"Come on." While the youngest of the clan lacked the strength and skill of his elders, he made up for it by a wildcat manner of fighting that taxed Joe severely.