Classicly

The boys had scarcely gripped each other when Lon realized that he was now no better able to cope with his rival in a wrestling bout than he was at their last encounter, months previous. The stableboy of the Three Oaks Inn had been in perfect training every day of his active life. Lon was lazy, and had to be fairly driven to work by his father. He would much rather roam the woods with a gun and dog, or go fishing, than do those tasks which fell to the share of the other lads of the neighborhood, and leaping and running, and frolicking with his friends in their off-hours, had not hardened his muscles as Hadley’s toil hardened his.