The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1871-06-20

REeht BhtO 10 bhrOWu OpeDs anu buo process
sion Of the torsr0s enters. They advance in
glittering line; first the marshals Of the
day, then the picadors on horseback, then the |
matadors on foot surrounded each by his quad |
rifle Of chulOS They walk towards the box |
which holds the city fathers, under whose !
patronage the show is given, and formally |
salute the authority. This is all very classic |
also, recalling the AUe Caesar, nl0rituri, |
etc., of the gladiators. It lacks, however,
the solemnity of the Roman salute. from
those splendid fellows who would never all
leave the arena alive. A bull-fehter is some
times killed, it is true, but the percentage of
deadly danger is scarcely enough to make a
spectators heart beat, as thenbedzeued pro-
cession comes flashing by in the sun.
The municipal authority throws the bowing
Alguacil key, which he catches in his hat,
or is hissed if he misses it. With this he un-
locks the door through which the bull is to
enter. There is bugle flourish, the door
flies open, and the bull rushes out, blind with
the staring light, furious with rage, trembling
in every limb This is the most intense mo-
ment of the day. The glorious brute is the
target of twelve thousand pairs of eyes.
There is silence as of death, while every
one waits to see his first movement. He is
doomed from the beginning; the curtain has
risen on three-act tragedy, which will surely
end with his death, but the incidents which
are to fill the interval are all unknown. The
minds and eyes of all that vast assem-
bly, know nothing for the time but the
movements of that brute. He stands
for an instant recovering his senses. He has
been shot suddenly out of the darkness into
that dazzling light. He sees around him
sight such as he never confronted before-a
wall of living faces lit up by thousands of
staring eyes. He does not dwell long upon
this, however; in his pride and anger he sees
a nearer enemy. The horsemen have taken
position near the gate, where they sit motion
less as burlesque statues, Etheir long ashen
spears, iron-tipped, in rest, their wretched
nags standing blindfolded, with trembling
knees, and necks like dromedaries, not
dreaming of their near fate.
The bull rushes, with a snort, at the
nearest one. The picador holds firmly,
pointing his spear point in the shoulder of
| the brute. Sometimes the bull finches at
this sharp and sudden punishment, and the
| picador, by q sudden turn to the left, gets
| away uphurt. Then there is applause for the
| torero and Kisses for the bull. Some indig-
nant amateurs go so far as to call him cow,
and to inform him that he is the son of his
mother. But oftener he rushes in,
not caring for the spear, and
with one toss of his sharp horns tum-
bles horse and rider in one heap against the
barrier and upon the sand. The cGpeGdores,
the cloak-bearers, come iuttering around and
| divert the bull from his PROSTATE victims.
The picador is lifted to his feet-his iron ar
NOR not permitting him to rise without help
and the horse is rapidly scanned TO see if
| his wounds are Immediately mortal. If not,
the picadore mounts again and provokes the
bull to another rush. A horse will usually
endure two or three attacks before dying.
Sometimes single blow from in front pierces
the heart, and the blood spouts forth in a
cataract. In this case the picador hastily
dismounts, and the bride and saddle are
stripped in an instant from the dying brute.
If bull is energetic and rapid in execution,
he will clear the arena in few moments.
He rushes at one horse after another, tears
them open with his terrible spears (''horns
is word never used in the ring), and
sends them madly galloping, over the arena,
trampling out their gushing bowels as they
fly. The assistants watch their opportunity
from time to time, to take the wounded
horses out of the ring, plug up their gaping
rents with tow, and sew them roughly up fol
another sally. 1t is incredible to see wha
these poor creatures will endure-carryine
their riders at a numbering gallop over the
ring, when their thin sides seem empty o.
entrails., Sometimes the bull comes upor
the dead body of horse he has killed. The
smell of blood and the unmoving helplessnes
of the victim excite him to the highest pitch
He cores and tramples the carcass, and tossel
1T in the air with evident enjoyment, unit
diverted by some living tormentor.
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