THROUGH WOMAN'S EYES

Ellesmere Guardian, Volume LI, Issue 16, 25 February 1930, Page 5

THROUGH WOMAN'S EYES

PRIZE-FIGHT IMPRESSIONS.

LADIES OP BULLDOG BREED.

The following impressions of the recent fight in London between Primo Camera (Italy) and Denier (Germany) were written for an English paper by a lady contributor:—

Blood-red, cruelly-manicured fingernails. Cauliflower ears. Pearl necklaces (authentic) as long as skipping ropes. Slop pails in the seconds' corners. Snowdrift ermine cloaks.

Women everywhere you looked. Hundreds and hundreds of them, from the ringside to the roof. Dressed for parties at exclusive supper clubs, as if they'd come straight from the office, and—yes! fudging also from their faces, straight from vicarage tea parties. Women escorted. Women escorting each other. And, for the first time in my own private experience of the very best pugilism, loud voices exhorted the fighters during the only important spectacle of the evening to come across with the rough stuff. They addressed Denier. He, from the very first round of his fight with Camera, was so plainly the poor, whipped underdog that we were all very, very kind and tender to him. i Pangs of Excitement. Especially those voices: '"It 'im, Jerry! Come on, Jerry!" Those voices issued from scores and scores of weak, female throats, the owners of which were all suffering the wildest pangs of excitement and enthusiasm. Ladies of the bulldog breed, obviously. But it gave me a shock, and when I fought my way homeward through massed/ formations of chauffeurs and the hoi polloi lined up outside the hall exits, I took a nervous look at the memorial to see that it stood where it did. It did. But only just. Nor must I forget to record the only bad break in what might have been called Jeff Dickson's Flags of All Nations Night. That came from the M.C. about to introduce Camera and Denier. "Gentlemen!" he cried; and then corrected himself. "Ladies and gentlemen!" It should, of course, have been "Gentlemen and ladies!" A Graver Camera.

Primo Camera, who, not many months ago, was so poor that he wore odd boots, and Denier, the German, climbed through the ropes. The latter spots Kid Lewis, an interloper, in a seat at the press shelf round the ring. He leans over the ropes with his hand outstretched: "And 'ow's my Lewis?" One of Denier's seconds is a true Jerry, with a convict hair cut.

A much graver Camera! But what a personality! And what" a whopper! It's just like looking at a man through an outsize in magnifying glasses. He wheezes like a steam engine as he fights. His sea-green pants are large enough to make bathing drawers for a classful of small boys. And when from the very start there were no cries but "Come on, Jerry!" he just amicably showed those conspicuous gums of his.

But how well he fought! He had us all surprised and amazed. Boxing like a heavy-weight champion! And how well he behaved! No alleged "chopping-block" punches, or game Denier—one of the bravest men who ever stepped in a' ring—would have ! been dead by now. And once when he hit with an open glove and had Ito be told about it there was quite a tender little "necking" scene in the ring when Primo apologised to the German. Sighs of Relief. Poor Jerry! He bad two eyes closed up before the referee mercifully stepped between them and said^ "Now, that'll be enough." And it was almost poor Primo for half a second. His English wasn't quite enough for "Now, that'll be enough," and his expression plainly ' said: "Well, if I haven't blotted my copy book all over again."

From all around me were sighs of infinite relief, and then roars approy-