So there, my dear Bertie, was I, within a few hours of my entrance into this town, with my top-hat down to my ears, my highly professional frock-coat, and my kid gloves, fighting some low bruiser on a pedestal in one of the most public places, in the heart of a yelling and hostile mob! I ask you whether that was cruel luck or not?
1895, A[rthur] Conan Doyle, chapter X, in The Stark Munro Letters: […], London: Longmans, Green, and Co.