LITMIR.BIZ

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been tryin' ter git 'old on yer this four weeks. Why, you're a prostitute—that's wot you are!'

      'I'm not!' answered Liza indignantly.

      'Yus, you are,' repeated Mrs. Blakeston, advancing menacingly, so that Liza shrank back. 'An' wot's more, 'e treats yer like one. I know 'oo give yer thet black eye; thet shows what 'e thinks of yer! An' serve yer bloomin' well right if 'e'd give yer one in both eyes!'

      Mrs. Blakeston stood close in front of her, her heavy jaw protruded and the frown of her eyebrows dark and stern. For a moment she stood silent, contemplating Liza, while the surrounders looked on in breathless interest.

      'Yer dirty little bitch, you!' she said at last. 'Tike that!' and with her open hand she gave her a sharp smack on the cheek.

      Liza started back with a cry and put her hand up to her face.

      'An' tike thet!' added Mrs. Blakeston, repeating the blow. Then, gathering up the spittle in her mouth, she spat in Liza's face.

      Liza sprang on her, and with her hands spread out like claws buried her nails in the woman's face and drew them down her cheeks. Mrs. Blakeston caught hold of her hair with both hands and tugged at it as hard as she could. But they were immediately separated.

      ''Ere, 'old 'ard!' said some of the men. 'Fight it aht fair and square. Don't go scratchin' and maulin' like thet.'

      'I'll fight 'er, I don't mind!' shouted Mrs. Blakeston, tucking up her sleeves and savagely glaring at her opponent.

      Liza stood in front of her, pale and trembling; as she looked at her enemy, and saw the long red marks of her nails, with blood coming from one or two of them, she shrank back.

      'I don't want ter fight,' she said hoarsely.

      'Na, I don't suppose yer do,' hissed the other, 'but yer'll damn well 'ave ter!'

      'She's ever so much bigger than me; I've got no chanst,' added Liza tearfully.

      'You should 'ave thought of thet before. Come on!' and with these words Mrs. Blakeston rushed upon her. She hit her with both fists one after the other. Liza did not try to guard herself, but imitating the woman's motion, hit out with her own fists; and for a minute or two they continued thus, raining blows on one another with the same windmill motion of the arms. But Liza could not stand against the other woman's weight; the blows came down heavy and rapid all over her face and head. She put up her hands to cover her face and turned her head away, while Mrs. Blakeston kept on hitting mercilessly.

      'Time!' shouted some of the men—'Time!' and Mrs. Blakeston stopped to rest herself.

      'It don't seem 'ardly fair to set them two on tergether. Liza's got no chanst against a big woman like thet,' said a man among the crowd.

      'Well, it's er' own fault,' answered a woman; 'she didn't oughter mess about with 'er 'usbind.'

      'Well, I don't think it's right,' added another man. 'She's gettin' it too much.'

      'An' serve 'er right too!' said one of the women. 'She deserves all she gets an' a damn sight more inter the bargain.'

      'Quite right,' put in a third; 'a woman's got no right ter tike someone's 'usbind from 'er. An' if she does she's bloomin' lucky if she gits off with a 'idin'—thet's wot I think.'

      'So do I. But I wouldn't 'ave thought it of Liza. I never thought she was a wrong 'un.'

      'Pretty specimen she is!' said a little dark woman, who looked like a Jewess. 'If she messed abaht with my old man, I'd stick 'er—I swear I would!'

      'Now she's been carryin' on with one, she'll try an' git others—you see if she don't.'

      'She'd better not come round my 'ouse; I'll soon give 'er wot for.'

      Meanwhile Liza was standing at one corner of the ring, trembling all over and crying bitterly. One of her eyes was bunged up, and her hair, all dishevelled, was hanging down over her face. Two young fellows, who had constituted themselves her seconds, were standing in front of her, offering rather ironical comfort. One of them had taken the bottom corners of her apron and was fanning her with it, while the other was showing her how to stand and hold her arms.

      'You stand up to 'er, Liza,' he was saying; 'there ain't no good funkin' it, you'll simply get it all the worse. You 'it 'er back. Give 'er one on the boko, like this—see; yer must show a bit of pluck, yer know.'

      Liza tried to check her sobs.

      'Yus, 'it 'er 'ard, that's wot yer've got ter do,' said the other. 'An' if yer find she's gettin' the better on yer, you close on 'er and catch 'old of 'er 'air and scratch 'er.'

      'You've marked 'er with yer nails, Liza. By gosh, you did fly on her when she spat at yer! thet's the way ter do the job!'

      Then turning to his fellow, he said:

      'D'yer remember thet fight as old Mother Cregg 'ad with another woman in the street last year?'

      'Na,' he answered, 'I never saw thet.'

      'It was a cawker; an' the cops come in and took 'em both off ter quod.'

      Liza wished the policemen would come and take her off; she would willingly have gone to prison to escape the fiend in front of her; but no help came.

      'Time's up!' shouted the referee. 'Fire away!'

      'Tike care of the cops!' shouted a man.

      'There's no fear abaht them,' answered somebody else. 'They always keeps out of the way when there's anythin' goin' on.'

      'Fire away!'

      Mrs. Blakeston attacked Liza madly; but the girl stood up bravely, and as well as she could gave back the blows she received. The spectators grew tremendously excited.

      'Got 'im again!' they shouted. 'Give it 'er, Liza, thet's a good 'un!—'it 'er 'ard!'

      'Two ter one on the old 'un!' shouted a sporting gentleman; but Liza found no backers.

      'Ain't she standin' up well now she's roused?' cried someone.

      'Oh, she's got some pluck in 'er, she 'as!'

      'Thet's a knock-aht!' they shouted as Mrs. Blakeston brought her fist down on to Liza's nose; the girl staggered back, and blood began to flow. Then, losing all fear, mad with rage, she made a rush on her enemy, and rained down blows all over her nose and eyes and mouth. The woman recoiled at the sudden violence of the onslaught, and the men cried:

      'By God, the little 'un's gettin' the best of it!'

      But quickly recovering herself the woman closed with Liza, and dug her nails into her flesh. Liza caught hold of her hair and pulled with all her might, and turning her teeth on Mrs. Blakeston tried to bite her. And thus for a minute they swayed about, scratching, tearing, biting, sweat and blood pouring down their faces, and their eyes fixed on one another, bloodshot and full of rage. The audience shouted and cheered and clapped their hands.

      'Wot the 'ell's up 'ere?'

      'I sy, look there,' said some of the women in a whisper. 'It's the 'usbind!'

      He stood on tiptoe and looked over the crowd.

      'My Gawd,' he said, 'it's Liza!'

      Then roughly pushing the people aside, he made his way through the crowd into the centre, and thrusting himself between the two women, tore them apart. He turned furiously on his wife.

      'By Gawd, I'll give yer somethin' for this!'

      And for a moment they all three stood silently looking at one another.

      Another man had been attracted by the crowd, and he, too, pushed his way through.

      'Come 'ome, Liza,' he said.

      'Tom!'

      He took hold of her arm, and led her through the people, who gave way to let her pass. They walked silently through the street, Tom very grave, Liza weeping bitterly.

      'Oh, Tom,' she sobbed

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