JACK JOHNSON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

NZ Truth, Issue 309, 27 May 1911, Page 8

JACK JOHNSON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

The Story of His Life's Battles.

(ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.)

CHAPTER XIX,

I Defend My Tide.

Champion at last 1 Other fighters who have been champions have told how they felt when they knew that the title was theirs, but I find it no cinch to describe my feelings. Of course I was tickled to death and all that, but I felt kind of solemn-like too. For fifteen years I had been looking forward to the day, and I never had any doubts that it would come along m time. Since the r day that Joe Choynski had started me m tho right way, by knocking me out, I had kept my eye on the great prize, and now that it had come I couldn't help feeling just a little sorry that the fun of getting it was over. However, I consoled myself with the thought that I should have to fight often enough to keep what I had won after so much hard work. I had fought more ring battles than any other fighter that ever lived, so many that I had stopped keeping account of them. After my fight with Burns, I remained m Australia until the followinc February, and during that time several things happened. I made some' theatrical engagements at 1050 dollars a week. Tommy Burns got morelthan that when he was able to appear m public ; he had a contract for 1250 dollars per week, but that included moving pictures. We both drew big houses, and the managers made plenty of money. Then I got married. I came to the conclusion that I was doing well enough to support a wife, and I am a kind of domestic fellow anyhow,, so I took the step. My wedding was a quiet affair, and I didn't quit business to go on a honeymoon trip. About that time the American and English newspapers were saying a mighty lot about something I did m Melbourne. It was reported all over the country that I had received treatment m the hospital of that city as a free patient, and" that I represented myself to be out of funds and unable to pay the fee for such treatment. Now, there was never anything farther from the real fact than that. Why, man alive, I went to that hospital every day m my own motor car ! Now, it was just this way. I had some trouble with my neck, and I thought the hospital would be the best place to go for treatment. It was a free hospital, and. I didn t know that any pay was expected of me. Anyhow, I offered to pay the doctor who treated me, but he .wouldn't have it. Then I offered to send him some silk sox, but he wouldn't take them. So 1, figured it out this way. Australia was getting enough out of me anyway. I was paying an income tax on my salary, -and I raised a lot of- dough for various charitable purposes while I was m the country. That is all there was to that hospital storyOur return voyage to America on the Makura was very pleasant m most respects. We had good weather and I was seasick only a little while. We had several entertainments on board, at which I played selections on the bass viol, Mrs Johnson accompanying me on the piano. Our performance was received with evident pleasure by the passengers, and quite a lot of money was collected for some charitable purpose— l have forgotten what. was on this voyage that mr Fitzpatrick and I severed our relations. It i 3 not necessary for me to go into the details of this matter, but I will say that nothing discreditable to Fitzpatrick was the cause of our business separation. I felt that the time had come when I no longer needed his services, and there was no dispute and nothing disagreeable about the matter. He had been of considerable service to me m my efforts to bring off the match with Tommy Burns, and I think he received full value for whatever he did for me. Anyhow, there is no' truth m the newspaper story that we quarrelled. When I landed at Victoria, 8.C., March 9, I found that an opportunity to defend my title to the championship was awaiting me. A big fellow named Victor McLaughlin was waiting anxiously, at Vancouver to show the western world that the new champion was a faker, and, on. the day after I landed I fought him six rounds, and proved that he was Victor only m name. On reaching. Vancouver I was met by representatives of all the great newspapers, and, from every «ide I got the question, "Are you going to meet Jeffries ?" In answer I got off something like this :— "I am willing to meet Jeffries. I am willing to meet any man m the world, and I do not think anyone can get a decision over me, much, less put me out. It tires me to hear this talk about Jeffries being champion still. Why, when a mayor leaves office he's an ex-mayor isn't he ? Why isn't a champion when he leaves the ring for ever, as Jeffries claims to have done, an ex-champiOn ? Now, if Mr Jeffries wants to get the championship back again, and thinks he can do it, I am perfectly willing to j take him on. - I

"Gentlemen, I do not want to make any predictions. What's the matter, though, m tha talk of arranging for a meeting 'with Jeffries ? Why shouldn't it be, what will Johnson take to give the ex-champion a chance to get back ? I want a winner's end and a loser's end. I don't care what it is — sixty and forty, or seventy- five and twenty-five per cent. — but there's got to be a winner's and loser's end.

"That's how I met Burns. I knew I could ,get him, and I followed him around the world before I got on with hhn at Sydney to show the people that I could do what I cloimed. If Jeffries wants a go why don't he come out like a man and say so ?"

I tell you I fejt pretty independent just then, and was not asking favors of anybody. Besides, I wasn't specially anxious to fight immediately, for I had several first-class offers m the theatrical line, and I saw no reason why I should not go on the road and "make a pot of money before I .went into training again. But I was not permitted to lead a peaceOf course It wav absolutely neces-

sary that I should meet Mr 'Joseph Francis Aloysius Hagan before very long. That gentleman — who is better known by his professional name of "Philadelphia Jack"' O'Brien— once had a taste of the joy of being heavy-weight champion, and he didn't intend to leave any chance to regain it untried. I didn't blame him, for I was only just beginning to get used to the title myself when I agreed to meet him at his home •city of Philadelphia on May 15.

Among all the men I have met m the ring, the career of Jack O'Brien has always seemed most interesting to me. I have always had a good deal of respect for the man who, without any great experience, except what he got as Kid McCoy's sparring partner, went over to England, stayed there a year, and beat all the big men m the country. One of the things he did over on the other side was to knock o ut George Crisp, charApipn of England, m eleven rounds 1 , and he also- put away Dido Plumb; the middle-weight champion. When he came back to this country, O'Brien would only take on heavy-weights. But the thing I always admired most about Jack is his trick of making out that he was born a gentleman, nothing less, and that he is just as refined m his tastes, as anybody m the city of Philadelphia or anywhere else. . He makes out a- mighty good case too. When he earned money enough to buy a home he didn't go and stick himself; m among ordinary common trash. Nay, nay —not Jackie; He waltzes up with the money m his hand and "buys aplace right m v the midst, of the Quaker City's Four Hundred, just a little way from the Drexels and the Dean of the University. „

It was a real pleasure to .meet such a nian. The money end wasn't particularly attractive.. Mr Harry D. Edwards, manager of the National Athletic Club, who engineered the business on behalf of his organisation, offered me a guarantee of 5000 dollars and paid my expenses while m the city. That was not a trig thing for a man who had just come home from Australia, with 25,000 dollars m his pocket, hut I counted the pleasure of a meeting with Jack as worth a mighty lot, and I could afford a little pleasure now and then. O'Brien worked on the percentage plan, receiving 30 per cent. His share footed up to over 6000 dollars, and the club made about 10,000 dollars out of the affair. Fine business men those Philadelphia club bosses ! It was a mighty pretty little exhibition, and nobody kicked when, at the end of the six-round bout, the referee announced that he could make no decision without running the risk of hurting somebody'^ feelings.

(To be continued.)