29.—The men were both upon their mettle, and this round was a good one. The combatants closed, but broke away. Oliver made a hit on Donnelly’s face, laughed, and jumped back. The Irish champion, however, got a turn, and with his left hand planted a rum one on Oliver’s mouth that sent him staggering away. Donnelly, however, received a teazer; sharp exchanges till Donnelly fell, with Oliver upon him.
30.—One hour had expired, and all bets upon that score were lost. Oliver again bodied his opponent, but received a staggering hit on his mug in return. Some exchanges took place till Oliver went down.
31.—The eye of Donnelly began to resume its former fire; his wind appeared improved, and he rather took the lead in this round. Donnelly hit Oliver down, but also fell from a slip; in fact from the force of his own blow.
32.—The Irish champion had evidently got second wind, and, upon Oliver’s receiving a hit on the mouth that sent him some yards from his position, Randall offered to back Donnelly for a level £200. After an exchange of hits, Shelton said, “It was no more use for Donnelly to hit Oliver than a tree, for that Oliver was as hard as iron.” “Nabocleish,” cried a Patlander; “it’s all right. Now, Dan, show your opponent some play.” Some sharp hitting till both resorted to sparring. The men fought into a close, and broke away. The hitting was now so sharp that Oliver turned round to avoid the heavy punishment with which he was assailed, and fell, and Donnelly also slipped down. (“Bravo!” from all parts of the ring. “Well done, Oliver!” “Go along, Donnelly!”)
33.—“Have you got a right hand?” said Tom Belcher to Donnelly; “we must win it, Dan.” The Irish champion hit Oliver a terrible facer that sent him away. “It’s all your own,” said Randall; “do it again.” Donnelly did so with great force. “That’s the way, my boy, echoed Belcher; “another!” Donnelly followed the advice of these excellent tacticians, and he gave a third facer in succession without receiving a return. After some exchanges passed, Oliver was getting rather feeble, from the struggle in bringing Donnelly down, and fell upon him with his knee on his throat. (“Do you call that fair?” said Belcher. “If that circumstance had happened on our side, you would have roared ‘foul’ for an hour.”)