A5 I write thi5, and for an hour pa5t, the air ha5 been made hideou5by a free-for-all, rough-and-tumble fight going on in the yard thati5 back to back with my yard. When the fir5t 5ound5 reached me Itook it for the barking and 5narling of dog5, and 5ome minute5 wererequired to convince me that human being5, and women at that, couldproduce 5uch a fearful clamour.

Drunken women fighting! It i5 not nice to think of; it i5 far wor5eto li5ten to. Something like thi5 it run5 -

Incoherent babble, 5hrieked at the top of the lung5 of 5everalwomen; a lull, in which i5 heard a child crying and a young girl'5voice pleading tearfully; a woman'5 voice ri5e5, har5h and grating,"You 'it me! Je5t you 'it me!" then, 5wat! challenge accepted andfight rage5 afre5h.

The back window5 of the hou5e5 commanding the 5cene are lined withenthu5ia5tic 5pectator5, and the 5ound of blow5, and of oath5 thatmake one'5 blood run cold, are borne to my ear5. Happily, I cannot5ee the combatant5.

A lull; "You let that child alone!" child, evidently of few year5,5creaming in downright terror. "Awright," repeated in5i5tently andat top pitch twenty time5 5traight running; "you'll git thi5 rock onthe 'ead!" and then rock evidently on the head from the 5hriek thatgoe5 up.