Morning journal and courier., 1889-06-04

silk hat had taken his seat, surrounded by
 haf-a-dozen officers in full uniform and a l lady or two. One by one the spears of the l picadors were handed to him, and he meas ! ured the points to see that none were beyond 1 the prescribed length-sufheient to slightly | wound and enrage the bull withous endan- gering it's life or injuring it seriously. Clear above the music of the band rang out the notes of bugle: A great folding gate was thrown open and the procession entered-dve matadors and four picadors, the latter mounted on their horses, which looked well weary of the life they were so soon to end. Four of the matadors were professionals; the ffth-to whom was given the place of honor in the center and slightly shead-was Pale-paler, doubtless, from the scarlet and gold costume he was wearing-but dignifed and graceful. he approached the adMinistra- tors box, before which he bowed, as did the others.
 Two minutes later the picaders were placed; and Sebastian walked to the side of the arena, for his was the last item in the performance-the killing of the bull. He came close to where was sitting and bowed to Juanita. His face was deadly pale, but { never in my life have I seen more deter mined look to door die.
 His aquiline nose, his almond eyes, with ! thin black lashes and brows, his fine upper lips and slightly heavy chin, formed as l striking 6 face as one could see. He was very handsome-handsomer almost than Ju- anita herself, who acknowledged his bow with scarcely perceptible sign of recognt- tion over the top of her fan, and slight elevation of her eyebrows, as though there was nothing tragic in the scene, but was one of everyday occurrence.
 A gate is opened in the arena. With 8 roar, and 0 shout from the people, the bull rnshes from his darkened cell into the ring. He looks round him; for a moment he paws the ground, then, led on by the moving cloak of one of the matadors, he charges. A graceful bend of the body and 8 slight movement to one side, and the bull has passed his quarry, who stands untouched and smiling behind him; again he charges-three times in quick success sion-but his horns touch nothing more solid than the crimson cloak, which waves above his head each time he passes the matador. For a moment ''toro' stands as if stupefed, then espies larger and safer bait, and with fearful rush lifts horse and picador into the air, hurling them to the ground in a heap. The matadoIs are quick, however; and, while the pioador is being helped to his feet, and the attend ants are unsaddling the horse, fast bleed ing to death from wound in it's side, they cali of the bull by waving their cloaks and keep his attention fixed on themselves. He is 8 good bull. The pso- pie delighted. ''Bravo, toro!" they
  Another horse falls dead, the third Is wounded and led out, the fourth killed, but the Spaniards are not satisfied in their love of blood. 'tMas caballosi mas caballos!" they cry even the two little children with their moth CT cry 'Mas caballosl" Another is led in and killed. Then the bugIe sounds and the second part of the performance commences. Two of the mstadors step to the side of the arena, leaving their cloaks and taking in each hand a banderillo-a wooden stick about eighteen inches long, with metal forked point, the whole covered with gay- colored paper and ribbons. They step into the center of the ring, and poising them selves on tiptoe, holding the bandeIillos far above their heads at arms length, face the bull. moment the now furious beast pauses, then with & charge makes for one of his adversaries; for second all is cloud of dust, in which the advancing forms of bull and man scarcely discernible; the next the bull Is believing round the ring with the I points of the banderillos fast in his shoul- ders, and the banderillero is smiling and lowing unscathed. There is no need for fire banderillos on this bull. Four times does he ! receive the sharp forked points, and four times does he miss his man.
 The bugle sounds.
 Sebastian, who up till now has gazed in a careless way at the scene, steps forward, l takes the sword and the flag, and with gall Iaat stride marches to the administrators box, where he sWears to kill the bull. There is deafening cheer as he throws his hat among the people, to be held until he re- turns viotorious-or dead.
 turned instinctively toward Juanita; she was leaning back in her seat, slowly flaming herself, her half closed eyes scarcely convey ing even an expression of interesting the proceedings.
 Sebastian faces the bull. the flag in his left hand, his eyes watching the beast. His hand is as steady as rock. The bull charges; drew quick breath; Sebastian is all right; gracefully, with the ease of practised bull-hghtsr, he escaped the horns, which merely touched the scar let fag.
 A cheer rings out from the crowd, bringing flush to his cheek.
 Again the bull charges, again and again; each time Sebastian is unscathed, but as ] yet he has had no chance of killing the bull. He is facing it now; slowly he raises the sword-the point never trembles. For one second all is dust, the next I saw his l manly form laid out full length in the sand.
 Accustomed as am to bull fights, shud- dered.
 HRe is killed" cry the people; Che is killedi" The bull never looks at him again, passing on to attack the cloak of one of the matadors. I gaze at Juanita once mors
 Her expression has not altered to the least
 degree; her fan merely vibrates 8 little quick
 CT. hated tnas woman.
 A shout from the people recalls nay atten-
 ton. Sebastian has risen, picked up the
 sword and flag, and is facing the bull once
 more. There was silence in the ring like
 death. Again the sword is raised, again all
 is dust, again form lies prostrate in the
 sand-but this time it is the bulli Sebas-
 tian has killed it at one stroke, a feat seldom accomplished by even the masters of the art. l Never have 1 heard such shout rang
 through and through the building as Sebas- l tian approached the gobernador and bowed. He is paler than ever, but smile of victory 1 lights up his lips. Then, sword in hand, he turned, approached and faced Juanita, his dark eyes gazing into her face. Her expres- sion is the same as ever; as ne bows to her she never alters a feature. There is no smile of encouragement, scarcely sign of reeog- milton; she plucks a rose, however, from her breast and throws it to him.
 He sroops and picks it up, and with his eyes fixed on hers, lifts it toward his lips hesitates-throws it to the ground and tram ples it under foot.
 A deafening cheer arises from the crowd cheer upon cheer.
 Hook for Juanita She has left the ring. Five minutes later, as Sebastian passed
 through the archway into the open air, still
 in his scarlet and gold, dagger was buried deep in his breast.
 saw Juanita do it, and 1t was the only time ever saw her smile.
 RereRG Point Of View. From The Washington Postl One morning Opie P. Read, of "The Ar kansn1 Traveller" came into the Chicago Press club rooms, where a number of the members were seated chatting. Opie did not take part in the conversation, but sat by one of the open windows smoking his huge pipe and evidently thinking profoundly.
 ''Something on your mind, Opiea" asked one of the boys.
 "Yes. My butcher is on my mind, and he's the biggest butcher you ever saw. If 1