The above description of —the great Figg, by the prize-fighting swains Sole monarch acknowledged of Mary'bone plains— may sound somewhat tame by the side of the glowing account given of him by his gallant biographer, who asserts that "there was a majesty shone in his countenance, and blazed in his actions, beyond all I ever saw;" but it may, possibly, convey a more accurate notion of his personal appearance. But I tell you in return, I shall take no pains to hide myself. Something forbade him to draw her toward him and seal the compact with a kiss. He, therefore, desires to interrogate him. ‘You little fool! I’m a trained soldier with ten years experience at my back. ” He said admiringly.
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