Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-06-05

whom almost am now, anu, moreover, what right has penniless young artist to spend dollar on seeing bull fight?
 How noisy and hot and dusty they all looked as they trooped ill and took their seats around mel 1 was surprised ut the crowd, there was no great matador going to kill bulls to-day, yet all the cheaper seats were filling.
 1 asked my neighbor, peasant in..o flat black hat, trousers, and highly decorated gaiters and bright waist coat, and wearing his coat siung from his shoulders.
 "Senor," said, 'can you tell me why so many people are here today?"
 He looked at mo d moment with an ex- precision of surprise.
 'sYou do not know!' He spoke with strong Andalusian accent. ''Sebastian will kill the bull"
 "Sebastian?" I said. "Senor, do not think me ignorant, but know no bull fighter of that name."
 He laughed.
 ..He has never killed bull before: to- day is his first. He comes from this part; that Is why every one is here." Then he added II will tell you his story. Sebastian is only a muleteer who once week drives a caravan of mules from his mountain village to this town. Once a week he comes with his burden of fruit. But he is poor; the mules are not his; he only works for another" He paused for moment and he added: 'You are a stranger here?"
 "Yes," said. "I arrived yesterday"
 "Then you do not know Juanita--La Bella Juanita we call herr" He did not wait for me to answer his question, but continued: "Evcry one falls in love with Juanita, and Sebastian like the rest, did too. He prayed and besought her to marry him, but she is proud and would not look at the humble muleteer. But after time his handsome face and oft repeated tale impressed her; so she told him she would marry him if he would kill bull in tho ring at today's fair. But hush! Here she is."
 turned in the direction in which he was pointing, and gazed with astonish- ment at one of the most lovely creatures 1t has ever been my lot to see. All eyes were fixed on her, yet she was as impas- sive as if she were alone and unnOticed. Her light, golden hair-not uncommon among the Spaniards-was bound up high upon her head, and surmounted by dark crimson rose, which held in it's place her mantilla of black lace.
 It was time the bull fight commenced, and already the impatience Spaniards
 were shouting and calling, but yet the gobernador had not taken his seat III the box reserved. l was all impatient to see Sebastian, and his was the first bull he killed. l gazed hastily round the ring; what an anomaly 1t presented. Near me, but in the better seats, were a lady and
 her two little girls, whom she was feed ing on chocolate and whose tiny hands were all ready to clap the victorious ma tadOr.
 Behind and around me were the iaunty, dusty crowd, among whom passed and repassed the eallers of water, with their
 shrill cry of Aqua, aqua fresca, and the vendors of biscuits and uuts. Below is the arena with it's burning yellow sand, a miniature desert. Suddenly the band commenced to play. I turned, and saw that the administrator box was no longer empty. A small man in a black coat and silk hat had taken his seat. surrounded by half a dozen officers in full uniform and a lady or two. One by one the spears of the picadors were handed to them, and he measured the points to see that none were beyond the prescribed length-suf- ficient to slightly wound and enrage the bull without endangering its life or injur- ing it seriously.
 Four of the matadors were profession als the fifth-to whom was given the place of honor in the center and slightly ahead-was Sebastian. All eyes were turned on him.
 A gate is open in the arena. With Q roar, and a shout from the people. the bull rushes from his darkened cell into the ring. He looks around him; for 8 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 slight movement to one side, and the bull has passed his quarry, who stands untouched and smiling be- hind him. Again he charges, three times in quick succession, but his horns touch nothing more solid than the crimson alO inH ohn ia ooh time as he passes the matador. For moment 'toro" stands as if stupetied; :; then espies larger and safer bait, and with fearful rush lifts horse and picador into the air, hurling them to the ground in heap. The matadors are quick, however, and while the picador is being helped to his feet and the attend ing to death from wound in it's side, they call off the bull by waving their cloaks and keep his attention fixed on themselves. He is a good bull. The people are delighted. "Bravo, toro" they cry. "Bravissimo!'
 Another horse falls dead, the third Is wounded and let out, the fourth killed, but the Spaniards are not satisfied in their love of blood.
 Two of the matadors step to the side of the arena, leaving their cloaks and taking in each hand banderillo. They step into the center of the ring, and pOising themselves on tiptoe, holding the bande- rillos far above their heads at arms length, face the bull. A moment the now furious beast pauses, then with a charge makes for one of his adervsaries. for second all Is cloud of dust, in which the advancing forms of bull and man are scarcely discernible; the next, the bull is believing round the ring with the points of the banderillos fast in his shoulders, and the banderillero is smiling and bow ing unscathed. There is no need for five banderilloS on this bull. Four times does he receive the sharp-forked points, and four times does he miss his man. <
 The bugle sounds.
 .Sebasian who up to now has gazed in 8 careless way at the scene, steps forward, takes tho sword and the flag, and with gallant stride marches to the ad- ministrator's box, where he swears to kill the bull.
 There is deafened cheer as he throws his hat among the people to be held till he returns victorious-or dead
 I turn instinctively toward Juanita; she was leaning back in her seat, slowly flaming herself her half-clOSed eyes