"'E've beat it!" cried the Ancient, flourishing his stick excitedly.
"Lord love me, 'e've beat it!"
"Ay, 'e've beat it, sure-ly," said a man who carried a rake that was forever getting in everybody's way.
"An' by a goodish bit to!" shouted another.
"Ah! but Jarge aren't got 'is arm in yet," retorted a third; "Jarge can do better nor that by a long sight!"
But now all voices were hushed as Job paced up.
"Eighty-two!" he announced. Black George looked hard at me, but, without speaking, stepped sulkily into the ring, moistened his palms, looked at me again, and seizing the hammer, began to whirl it as he had seen me. Round and round it went, faster and faster, till, with a sudden lurch, he hurled it up and away. Indeed it was a mighty throw! Straight and strong it flew, describing a wid
