Things began to break for me thick and fast after that fight with Choynski. When I went to my dressing room the crowd followed me, and in order to keep me from being suffocated a policeman was posted outside and the door was closed and locked.

                  I was being rubbed down when we heard a commotion outside.

                  "I am going in, sir," said a man's voice; "going in, sir; understand?"

                  Spider Kelly tip-toed to the door and peeked out. Then he threw the door open and began rousting the policeman.

                 "What do you mean, sir, stopping our friends?" he growled. "Haven't you any sense at all?"

                 Then the Spider made a low bow and stepped aside to admit a man of very distinguished appearance.

                 "Tom," said the Spider, "I want you to meet Lord Talbot Clifton. He is one of our most prominent and important sportsmen."
           
                 The lord reached over and tapped me on the shoulder. Then he walked around and looked me over from all angles.

                 "And you're Tom Sharkey, " he said; "well, sir, you're quite a stunning boy; yes, sir, a stunning boy."

                 The lord, who originally came from England, was a genuine member of royalty, and he became one of my best friends.

CORBETT SEES BOUT
                 He insisted that I be his guest at dinner and, of course, I was glad to accept.

                 He gave the dinner at the Cliff house and he took Tim McGrath and "Spider" Kelly and I out in a tallyho, with a big black man in brass buttons handling the ribbons. Some class. I kept looking around to see if there were any sailors around from the Philadelphia to whom I might wave my hand.

                 The lord was certainly a good sport. He returned to England some time afterward and I haven't heard from him for several years.

                 Less than a month after I fought Choynski I was back in the ring again to fight Jim Williams of Salt Lake City. Williams, up to that time, had never been beaten, and was reputed to be able to take punishment like a bulldog and to have a great right hand.

                 The fight with Williams, however, did not amount to much. I stopped him in three rounds, and were it not for one very important thing - a thing which shaped all my subsequent career - I would dismiss it with the mere statement that it was the first fight I ever had at Mechanic's pavilion.   

                 Seated at the ringside the night I fought Williams was James J. Corbett - heavyweight champion of the world.

                 Corbett was on one of his periodical visits home and was of course the center of attraction.

                 I can see him still, sitting there, surrounded by admirers, talking and joking while he laughed at the two "dubs" in the ring.

                 And I remember also how, as Williams and I stood and whaled away at each other, some fellow arose in the audience and yelled across the ring:

                 "Jim, how long would it take you to whip either one of these bums?"
 
                 "A couple of punches," replied Corbett, "a couple of punches!"

                 And of course everybody laughed. It was quite a treat to hear the champion talk.

                 I said everybody laughed. I should have said all but McGrath. Tim turned around and glared at Corbett.

                 "Yeah," sneered Tim, "a couple o' punches. You can't knock him out at all."

                 I had finished Williams and gone to my dressing room when the Spider suddenly burst through the door.

                 "McGrath!" he shouted. "Sharkey! Come over here!"

                 He was so excited that he could hardly talk. He fished around for words to begin with.

                 "Say," he exclaimed at length, pointing through the doorway. "I just come from out there. Know what they're saying? That Corbett can stop Sharkey in four rounds. Get the idea?"

                 The Spider stopped and began jiggling around.

                 "What a cinch!" he said. "A cinch!"

                 "But," I said, "Corbett is the champion of the world."

SAW BIG FIGHT
                 "You keep still!" roared the Spider. "You've got nothing to do but fight. Tim and I will fix this and you'll be champion. Stop you in four rounds - he can't do it with a hammer."

                 Then the Spider grabbed Tim and ran out. He was scared lest the admirers of Corbett, who were urging him to show how he could stop me, would back down.

                 I sat in my dressing room and thought the matter over. Corbett was the world's champion. He ought to be able to punch my head off.

                 And then my mind wandered back.