A native sold his supply of nuts in exchange for cloth, tobacco and so forth. As the night advanced, Mr. ’ ‘Forgive me, but if that is the case, I don’t quite see why you should run away. 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.
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