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28.—Langan walked up to the umpire, and said, “Sir, I did not go down.” Time had been called, when Cribb sung out, “Why don’t you come to the scratch? what manœuvres are you about, Mr. Belcher?” “I want nothing but fair play,” replied Tom; “lick us fairly, and I shall be satisfied.” Langan again made play, but was thrown.

29.—Spring planted a heavy facer. (“That’s a little one for us, I believe,” said Cribb; “our hands are gone, are they?” Laughter.) Langan was thrown heavily.

30.—It was quite clear that Langan could not get the lead, yet he was not to be viewed with indifference; he was still dangerous, as a throw might win the battle. Both down, Spring undermost.

31.—This round, more particularly at this stage of the fight, exalted the character of Langan as one of the gamest of men. Langan planted a body blow, but napped three facers in succession. A pause. Langan received a heavy body blow, seemed exhausted, and fell on his latter end.

32.—This round it was thought would have proved the quietus of Langan. He was thrown heavily, and his head touched the lower rail. (“That’s a finisher!” “He’ll not come again,” were the remarks of the spectators.)