Argosy All-Story Weekly, December 2, 1922 — page 162: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

632 chair, an’ th’ next thing I know somethin’ that feels like th’ roof hits me on th’ toes o’ my high-polished No. 10’s. I looks down tuh see what’s happened, an’ there’s K. O. slouchin’ in th’ chair like he’s busted th’ hinges in his knees. I tumble tuh th’ floor, an’ when I lamps his face, his chin’s shim- myin’ like a chorus lady’s shoulders. I asks him th’ what’s what, an’ he tell me this bird looks tougher’n he thought! ‘“‘ Mister, that said remark has made me feel weaker’n Volstead liquor, an’ while I’m bleary eyed, Kentucky Kid comes over an’ shakes hands with K. O. like he’s a long- lost brother. Then th’ ref’ree calls ’em tuh th’ spot, tells °em th’ how’s how, an’ th’ next thing I know th’ bell blows! “ K. O. waltzes out an’ begins kinda slow- like tuh see what this bird’s got, but he learns nothin’; so he takes th’ lead an’ boxes. Kentucky Kid joins in, an’ it begins tuh look like we have nothin’ tuh worry over. They box easy, but just before th’ ding-dong, Kentucky Kid unwinds th’ ole left mowin’ m’chine. K. O. sees it comin’ an’ steps inside, just as Kentuck starts his right elevator; an’, say, mister, that said lifter started by scrapin’ th’ rosin off th’ canvas, an’ ended up in th’ arc lights. If it had been a hit K. O. would have finished right now. But it ain’t; an’ tuh show that it could be done, K. O. unbuttons two 0’ th’ same kind f’r easy hits! “ Th’ second frame’s ditto. Kentuck uses th’ ole left haymaker an’ th’ Kid Farm- er uppercut; but he misses so often that half th’ time he’s posin’ like th’ Statue o’ Liberty, an’ every time he misses K. O. seesaws him with th’ ole one-two. When th’ second bell comes Kentuck’s inhalin’ some o’ his own claret! “ All along K. O. has been actin’ loggy; he’s missin’ a lot 0’ easy ones, an’ when he does land, his punches seem tuh lack th’ ole snap. Yuh know when K. O. is battlin’ he don’t wear no smiles. Lets me do th’ smilin’, while he does th’ frownin’ an’ fight- in’, an’ when he come in f’r th’ second rest, it only takes one look tuh see he’s frownin’ like a cornered safe cracker. So figurin’ he’s found this bird’s all, an’ is jus’ stallin’ tuh give th’ gang a run, I quit worryin’! “With th’ third bell, K. O. rares outa his ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. corner like he’s gonna bale some Bluegrass, but Kentuck meets him halfway, an’, say, mister, f’r th’ next sixty seconds them boys is sure makin’ hay. Then they wades into a clinch. The haberdasher model that’s play- in’ ref’ree drags ’em apart, but they bumps him over in a corner, an’ pr’ceed with th’ balin’. It’s an even break, both o’ them is bleedin’, an’ th’ crowd’s a bunch 0’ ravin’ imbecels. “Then I notice somethin’. K. O. is slippin’. But there’s somethin’ else; Ken- tuck’s doin’ th’ ole crawfish, an’ I don’t need nobody tuh tell me he’s groggy. I jump up an’ start yelpin’ K. O. th’ how’s how, but he don’t need no advice—no more’n I need wings. Zop! Out comes th’ ole left, straight on th’ point, followed by th’ ole chloroform right. Zowie! It’s a clean miss, an’ before K. O. is right side up again Kentuck unwinds th’ old Kid Farmer elevator, an’ when it lands K. O. unravels his wings an’ starts fr th’ gallery. “After he had fell from th’ roof, an’ th’ referee sees th’ dent in th’ canvas, he starts countin’; but he might just as well ’a’ went home. K. O. stays down f’r ten counts, two dukes, an’ fifteen minutes, an’, when he finally comes outa it an’ finds me moppin’ his face he bawls me out f’r throwin’ in th’ sponge when they turned out th’ lights. Can yuh imagine it? ““ He’s still ravin’ when I get him tuh th’ dressin’ room; but, figurin’ he’s still goofy from th’ skull practice, I let him rave. While I’m workin’ him over Kentucky Kid comes into th’ joint, smilin’ high wide an’ han’some. This kinda gets my goat—but right now I apol’gize. Kentucky Kid’s a real gentleman; when he sees us havin’ words he begs th’ big pardon, backs out, an’ says he'll see us in th’ mornin’, “ Bein’ out ’round ten thousand berries, that night don’t,find me no sleepin’ beauty ; an’ seein’ that K. O. wakes up in th’ morn- in’ with an overload o’ jaw—I have trouble keepin’ my shirt on. “*T can lick that bird—easy!’ K. O. bawls; an’ when I say nothin’ he repeats. ‘““*T said I could lick that bird easy!’ This time he’s sarcastic, an’ it don’t go. “* Sure,’ I says; ‘ but why in hell didn’t Gomichbooks.com