Norris. The above description of —the great Figg, by the prize-fighting swains Sole monarch acknowledged of Mary'bone plains— may sound somewhat tame by the side of the glowing account given of him by his gallant biographer, who asserts that "there was a majesty shone in his countenance, and blazed in his actions, beyond all I ever saw;" but it may, possibly, convey a more accurate notion of his personal appearance. His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. For the first time that day, she was finally able to look into his face. “I suppose a girl MUST be underpaid and sweated,” said Ann Veronica.
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