J. Storer Clouston, The Adventures of M. D'Haricot
“ So engrossed was I that I had quite forgotten Fisher; but now I was reminded by the sound of a stentorian grunt. “Ugh!” he groaned. “Get me a cab; fetch me a cab, some one.” Blood was dripping from his nose; his collar was torn, his cheeks scarred by the nails of his foe; everything, even his whiskers, seemed to have suffered. It would not be easy to persuade this victim of the wars to patronize our mission now, but for Kate's sake I thought I must try. “Well, Fisher,” I said, heartily, “you are a sportsman! Your spirit and your vigor, my dear sir, were quite admirable.” ”
