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Langan shortly followed, under the patronage of Colonel O’Neil. Belcher, Harmer, and O’Neil (not “Ned,” of Streatham), his bottle-holder, were in attendance. The Irish champion ascended the stage, and in a modest manner dropped his hat within the rails. He was prepared for action; but the Champion not being ready, he walked up and down the boards with the utmost composure.

A black silk handkerchief was placed loosely round Langan’s neck, which, we understand, was tied by the delicate hands of the lady of a gallant Irish Colonel O’B——, before he left the inn, at which the lady stopped in her journey to the Isle of Wight. Mrs. O’B—— offered him a green handkerchief, as a token of his country; but Langan politely refused, saying, “I am not of importance enough to make it a national affair: I do not wish it, indeed, madam; it is merely to decide which is the best man; therefore, if you please, I prefer a black one, having fought under that colour.” Mrs. O’B——, on tying it round his neck, romantically exclaimed, “You are Irish: colour is immaterial to a brave man: glory is your only object. Go, then, and conquer!” Langan returned thanks very politely for the attention paid to him, and the good wishes of the lady. Everything being ready, the colours, dark blue with bird’s eye for Spring, black for Langan, were tied to the stage, and Mr. Jackson arranged the spectators round the ring in an orderly and comfortable manner. Betting two to one, and five to two, at the beginning of