Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-03-21

| There was at that time, at Loyola, quite
near here, down there iii the valley, a big,
| handsome fellow, who hirted with the pretty
| girls, and who had all the qualities which
| please women, but not one of those which
| please parents. 1t was that Arauuil who
had come to tell old General Garrido OF his
| ambition. Gay, that fellow! always fooIing,
the hrst at game of tennis, agile, strong,
dlsputatious, killing bulls like rough-rider
In the improyised novilladas, an espada by
| procession, ready, on the first occasion, to
have his skin pierced or his head broken.
And, with the bearing of a
king, the look of cavalier
and his chin always freshly shaven, he had
the form OF a Hercules and the hand of a
woman Besides, not a penny. He lived
from hand to mouth, sometimes on the prize
won at tennis from the men of Bilbao or
Tolosa, sometimes on bet made with tore
ros whom he defed at races, or with the
knife. One day, at st. Sebastian, when the
enraged quadrilla could not succeed in
killing the bull, furious black creature
spotted with red lather, slavering foam and
sweating blood, Juan Araquil began to
hiss, and the people in the circus, spectators
and toreros, set to crying: "Weil into the
arena, then, into the arenaI" Ah! Juan
does not hesitate, sir, he rises, he springs
inside; from the spada-astonished and
perhaps enchanted to see this great mad
man soon ripped open-he takes the sword
with the short handle, you know; he takes
1T thus, and, placing himself in front
OF the bull, he looks at the brute, laughs in
Its nostrlls, thrusts the point forward, there,
In the right place, as Tato or Lagartiio
might have done, and the bull fails like
mass, while Juan Araquil turns to the tore
ros and says, still laughing:
VOn 81
But that is not all. They were beside them
selves, were the toreros, mad with race when
they heard the cries of the crowd. the brayos
which saluted Araquil, and the misses which
were ike blows In the espada's face: they
group together, surround Araquil, wish to
call MIN TO account for his boldness. and
perhaps, forsooth, to do him some bad turn'
All! well, goodl Araquil looks at this cireLe
OF enraged men. He takes a spring. iumps
over the. head of the torero who is In front
OF him and goes back to the tiers, leaving
the circle still formed which was going to
smother, to strangle him. That evening he
fought with knives, behind the circus.
against one of the toreros, who buried his
navaja full in mis- breast. Juan Araouil Law
in bed for fortnight, but after that there
was no sign OF anything. He was ready tn
Kill another bull, and, this time if neces-
sary, torero also.
When our toreros are wounded vou knov
1t is not Of much consequence. Their skin
grows together again, their flesh recoyers its
strength. They are carried ayay gored.
supposed to be dead-the sign of the cross. q
at the end OF a month there
they are again, with the espada or the ban
derilla in their hand. Juan Araouil was
made oil this stuff. A man Of iron, a true
Basque.
Besides, he had remedies for wounds. He
had even had an essence made in this way,
from don't know what poisonous
plants, which he carried on his hand, in q
rlng, saying that man ought always to be
the master of his life, and that sometimes,
wnen one wants to put an end to it, one has
not always knife in his aaad. A knife