The way I knocked out Nick Burley made me quite a man on the good ship Philadelphia. Even the officers, who had scarcely noticed me before, seemed anxious to give me a pleasant word.

One month after I disposed of Burley I was matched to fight a fellow named Langley. This fight was for $100 a side, winner take all the gate receipts, and was held near the beach of Waikiki, which is a part of Hono­lulu. I knocked out Langley in two rounds.

Then came a man named Pickett. He was easy. They packed him out in two rounds.

By that time, as may be imagined, I was thinking pretty well of myself. I asked them to get me a real man - one who could take a wallop.

The Honolulans dug up Jim Barrington. He was no better than either Langley or Pickett and lasted about as long.

START BETTING
"Rough" Thompson I also disposed of in two rounds for a $500 side bet. They were beginning to plunge a little on the Philadelphia.

        But the ending of the fight did not suit Thompson’s friends. They said I won with an accidental punch. I gave "Rough" another fight and stopped him in the fifth round.

       Shortly after that fight there put into port an English man o’ war, and aboard it was Gardner, heavyweight champion of the British navy. I
deprived him of his title by stopping him in four rounds.

It should not be imagined, however, because I am rattling these fights off one after another, or because each fight was so short that I didn’t take any punishment.

The way I fought I had to take punches. I didn’t know then that there was such a thing as a side step, a feint or an uppercut, and the idea that a man could guard himself by holding up an arm never entered my head.

PRIDE GETS JOLT
A man, named George Washington, a colored boxing instructor of Honolulu, told me one time that if I would call on him he would show me how to box. I called and we put on the gloves. He started to tell me that I did not know how to put up my bands. That made me mad.

"I know just as much about holding up my hands as you do," I said.

He said that I had the swelled head - and perhaps I did. But anyhow I was game enough to offer to fight him.

       "Look here," said George Washington. "Ah got nothin' 'gainst yo’. Get ‘long now ‘fore I disfigure yo."

        And I am satisfied now, when I come to think how quickly that negro jumped at the chance offered to meet me in a fight, that he actually
thought be would chop me to pieces.

SHARKEY OUTBOXED
We met in a small hall, the ring being pitched on a stage and with ropes on three sides only.

I will say for George Wazhington - it may give the old fellow some satisfaction - that he certainly made me look foolish in that first round.

I just couldn't hit him. When I rushed he slipped aside and made me bump the ropes. And when I stood in the center of the ring and dared him to come on and fight he poked my head and hopped away.

I was furious when I went to my corner. I had been thinking I could fight and here was a boxing instructor - not a regular fighter, just a plain every-day instructor -showing me I didn’t know a thing about it.

I wouldn’t even sit down. During the minute rest I kept digging my toes into the canvas in my anxiety for the bell to ring.

When it finally did ring I jumped ten feet and landed in the center of the ring on the dead run.

 MANY KNOCKOUTS
    The negro saw me coming and tried to side step. I struck him with my arm and shoulder and slammed him against the wall. As he bounced back I swung and landed on his chest. He went plumb through a window in the back of the stage.

Before leaving Honolulu I had several other fights. One fellow I whipped was Bill Tate, who, so he told me after the fight, was a great friend of the renowned Spider Kelly of San Francisco.

Tate did twice as well as did Jim Dunn, Jack McAuley, Jack Marks and Sailor Brown. Each of them lasted one round.

    Then the Philadelphia set sail for California. The reader will by this time have probably reached the decision that when I left Honolulu I was badly puffed up - a victim of the swelled head.

And had it not been for one thing I certainly would have been some what puffed. It was some trick for a green sailor like I was to knock out so many men right off the reel.

One day while in Honolulu I met Tom James, the steward from the steamer Australia, who had got me to fight Nick Burley.

 GOOD ADVICE
"Tom," he said. "you've been doing some good flghtlng."

I agreed with Mr. James that I had. I expected him to tell me that some day I would be a champion.

“Let me give you a word of advice, Tom,” he said, “You think you’ve done very well in the ring, and, to be truthful you have. But, Tom, all you don't know about fighting would make a cargo for a ship.

“You’ve been meeting bums. The only man you’ve whipped worthy of mention is Nick Burley, and he doesn’t figure one, two, three with the champions.

"You are a big man in Honolulu. In California they've never heard of you. They have real fighters there.

       "Go see some of them fight. Then, if you're still game, go to it. The champions need strong, husky fel­lows like you to practice on. If you can stand the gaff we may hear something of you in a few years.”

        I had plenty of time to think over what Mr. James told me on the trip from Honolulu. The Philadelphia dropped anchor at Vallejo in June of 1895.