UNRECORDED FIGHTS.

Hawera Star, Volume XLIX, 27 July 1929, Page 13

UNRECORDED FIGHTS.

<4, . 1 “A HARD ONE TO BEAT.” SOME STORIES OF IMPROMPTU “SCRAPS.” (Contributed hv R.A.P.) Judge of my surprise on reading the “Star” of the 13th inst. to see that a “Has Been ’ ’ Jiving in Hastings had stolen some of my thunder by giving an account of an early morning bout at the Bulls butter factory between Jack Swede and Dick Jarrett. Such stories iii which the latter was concerned could be told by the score, as Jarrett must be well known to the boys and old boys | of the schools in and adjacent to Hawera. 1 will endeavour to entertain them with doings of his school days. As far back as 1875 or 187(3 lie was on the roll of the Bulls School. I have heard from his old schoolmates that lie would do anything but fight, and was not too fond of wrestling, at which the bigger boys to throw him rather heavily. A i-f far as I can make out the first scrap was what may be termed a compulsory one. | Some twenty or so years ago the ' Bulls School held an old boys’ and girls’ reunion, but few were present who had been at school in the midseventies. One of the old boys ■who attended was R. O. Jarrett. He was not forgotten and was called upon for a speech. Then as now, lie could talk 'and he told a story rather against himI self about the only time lie was over i knocked out by one not much bigger 'than himself. Memorising the speech, 'it was something like this: “I am goI ing to remind you fellows of a boy called Paddy. T do not know where he i happens to be now. but 1 wish to say I that after all these years 1 bear him 'no malice. (Daughter.) I. see some of you chaps at the back laughing. Perhaps you have a guilty conscience, as someone once got me knocked mil. For the benefit of those who were not at school in our days I will sav that my friend Paddy was a smiling, goodnatured lad, who, like myself, was one of the butts of the school. Going home from school it used to be a common thing for several boys to get branches of gorso and torment some innocent

with the fur/e. This afternoon Paddy was the victim. Af last, Paddy, goaded to passion, commenced to swing his dinmo- bag round and round. Unluckily, inside the kit was his pint tea bottle, and before \ could get out of reach 1 stopped the bottle with my head, although it was not meant fpr me. The next thing \ remembered was Constable McNaulfy questioning the boys, many of whom could not toll quick enough I hat Paddy had hit me over the head with a bottle. Turning to Paddy, tin* constable said: ‘Pliwat did ve do ilial for?' In which Paddy answered: ‘lf ye plaise, sir, he hit me on the head with tlxo gorse furze.’ ” From the

winks and nods that were given it was very evident that there were others present who remembered Pa-ddv. Jarrett was slow to rouse, but if you got his “shirt- out,” as the saying was, it was «s case of -look out, although he was one who never looked for trouble. I lived not a grea't distance from him when not yet fourteen, he working at Ren berthy’s store, M-akino Road, Fe.ilding. On the mutual help principle, the storekeeper and baker used to join forces when delivering stores and bread out into the backbloeks, and Dick and the baker would set off in a spring cart wnd help each other deliver. One morning, when ready, to start, the baker found fault with something; one word led to another, ending in the baker giving the grocer boy a cuff on the oar which sent him sprawling. This raised the demon in Jarrett, who sailed into the baker hot and strong, -eventually landing one in tlie face. The noise brought the storekeeper out to- see what was wrong. M-r Baker tried to he funny, saying they were having a scuffle and*the boy had hit him in the face, making him see stars. “Judging by thy look of you,” says t-lie storekeeper, “I think you have seen frogs with two tails.” * Settlers had their goods, delivered as usual, and no more arguments took place, but the boys talked of the first officer for weeks after.

Being in the South Island for .some time caused me to lose touch of Jarrctt for a few yearS, but when 1 did locate him he was in a foundry at Wanganui, and this is where I last week started to enlighten readers of some of his unrecorded fights. It has been said of him that if victimised he would bide his time to get square, his favourite met hod being to Jure his tormentor into a rally with the gloves, then taking all kinds of risks to monkey with his opponent until he wouldn't know whether lie was standing on his head or his heids. The first I heard of these tactics was when Diek fought a blacksmith, whom I will call B. M., for a quarter of an hour on two days of the dinner hour. The blacksmith would not face the music tin' third day. but he arranged for a bout to take place with » striker called Bobbin. The scene of the scrap was on the bank of a deep creek with a higher terrace in the background, on which sat the ban-ackers. Sparring around for a while, Jarrett had got

within two or three yards of the edge of th(“ bank, and this is just what, was wanted. ‘‘Now,’’ yelled the voice of another blacksmith. With a rush Dob-

jliin gave his opponent a push, and when | he regained his feet ho was standing in water up to his waist. Each time l.larroft made an effort to get out ho | was pushed back, all the while being. . I asked if he would give in. Summing g up thi‘ conspiracy, he agreed to give in ■ j for that day, but the referee said it ■ would have to be for good or not at all. • Seeing he had no alternative, Dick i ! agreed, but mentally resolved he. wouid j get square. From that 'day he never > . missed an opportunity to spar with all and sundry. Some six months went by •jwlien a. set gloves made an appearance | j in Dick’s part of the foundry, where . many of the boys and men used to have

a go with him in spare time. B. M. j happened to go across one day, and| after watching several sets tie said tie would go a. round or two. His request was readily granted, and lie was allowed to go back to his work as having had the best of -the deal. He confided to Dobbin that it was all punk the way the fellows were talking about Dick’s boxing. “Why, I beat him easily; you would smother him.” “Are you sure?” asked Dobbin. “Yes, Dobbin; lie’s no better than lie was months ago.” The next -dinner hour the blacksmith and liis striker -stood at the door watching the fun. Then B. M. had a go, well peppering the patient one. “I’ll have a few minutes,” chipped in Dobbin. “Nothing doing,” says Dick; “you box with Bob.’’ “Come on, I won’t hurt you,” was Dobbin’s promise. Seemingly reluctant, the victim of the ducking in the creek put the gloves on. For two rounds Dobbin was leading on points, but was not contented at that, and ho suggested that the third round should be a real ding dong one. This is what artful Dick had -been sparring for. They shook hands. “Hit as hard as you can,” says Dobbin. And Dick did. There were only two blo\vs struck; Dobbin took both. Immediately behind Dobbin was a door standing half-way open. From the outset Dick feinted for his opponent’s face. Up went both hands, while deep into his bread basket went Jarrett’s left-hand glove, and the right like aflash was crossed to the jaw, sending Dobbin spinning through the door. The whistle blew for work, gloves were thrown off, and the vanquished one hurried off with liis head in his hands. “Oh, my jaw, my jaw.” The old foundry hands still fell the story to the young -apprentices.

“Spike” told us Jarrett- was a. hard man to beat on the running track, and boys, young and old, let me tell you lie was hard to beat with the gloves before taking to running shoes.

I think I have told enough to convince all that he was all .that others have; claimed for him. Ask him to afternoon tea and get him to tell some of his experiences; you’ll enjoy them. He knows more than the ordinary person, for he has had the faculty of studying and remembering things as finback as I know of. He puts me in mind of a. verse of a nursery rhyme our grandmothers used to chant while trying to get a. sleepless child to bed: Two and two are four.

Five and four are nine; I know what’s in that mind of yours, But von don’t know wlmt’s in mine,