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It was impossible for Langan to remain idle with such a reputation, as some one or other was continually offering himself to his notice. Slantlea, a hardy fellow, offered his services to Jack, which were accepted without a single murmur. But to ensure success, the night before the battle, Langan was introduced by a friend to the late Sir Daniel Donnelly. The advice of the Irish (whiskey-punch) Champion was asked as to the best mode of training. “Is it training you mane?” replied Sir Dan, with a smile upon his comical mug; “by the okey, I never troubled myself much about that training, d’ye see, which the fellows in the Longtown make so much bother about. But, nevertheless, I will give my opinion as to what I think necessary to be done upon such occasions. First of all, you must take off your shirt, Jack Langan, then walk up and down the room briskly, and hit well out with both hands, as if you intended giving your opponent a snoozing without asking for his night-cap. Jump backwards and forwards one hundred times at least; and then to find out if the wind is good, for being out of breath in fighting, my boy, is not a very comfortable thing for a distressed man. Now, Jack,” says Sir Dan, it being then about twelve o’clock at night, “you must go home directly, and drink half a gallon of the sourest butter-milk you can get, and then go to bed. At five o’clock, not a minute after five o’clock in the morning, you must get up, and run three or four miles, and at every mile you must swig, not whiskey, by J——s, but a quart of spring water. Mind, now Langan, do as I tell you.” Jack thanked Sir Daniel for his friendly advice, and started off to procure the butter-milk; but felt extremely mortified after knocking up all the dairymen in the neighbourhood, that he was not able to buy more than three pints. At five o’clock in the morning, although Langan had scarcely had an hour or two of rest, he jumped out of bed to finish his training. To make up for the deficiency of butter-milk, our hero drank a greater proportion of water. The time appointed for the fight to take place was six o’clock; but Jack, in his eagerness to train, was nearly half an hour behind his time. His antagonist was upon leaving the ground, when Langan mounted the brow of a hill, in sight of the ring, quite out of breath, and dripping with perspiration, roared out as loud as he was able, “Don’t go yet, man, I’ll be wid you in a jiffy!” The ring was again formed, and Langan, hot as fire, stripped for action cool as a cucumber.