The daily morning journal and courier., 1898-03-26

the first move by skipping lightly to- ward the believing beast. springing aside to avoid it's short, mad rushes, or hewildering it by whirl of his gau- dy cloak, until at last the brute, seem ed utterly puzzled as to how it should attack the agile foe. Then, with a quick bound he leaned right over the gleaming horns, and rove dart into either side of the brawny neck, the on- ly place where they might be stuck, according to the unwritten law Uf the arena. Next moment he was running for his life around the ring, with the bull laundering at his heels, swaying easily from side to side when the mad dened beast gained ground, or occa- sionally turning half-around swished hls cloak across it's eyes. At no time was there more than a yard between the small of his back and the reddened horns, and the whole building rang with fantic "bravos" when he waved the comrades who would have inter- posed aside. But the pace was too hot to last No flesh and blood, either of man or beast, could stand it long, and at last when the former half-leaped, half-fell across the barrcade the inn mense audience rose up and roared themselves hoarse. Then broad -brim- med sombreros, Panama hats, cigar cases, handkerchiefs, etc., were hurled into the ring in scores. Amid wild laughter the bull stamped one or two of the most objectionable hats into the sand, while the attendants gathered up the rest and flung them back. though how they ever reached their original owners it would be very hard to say.
 Next a second capero managed to place one dart, but he was neither so daring nor so slxillful as the first, and just when death seemed on the point of overtakng him a comprade sprang | through the foot-Wide gap between. A wave of his green cloak diverted the attention of the pursuer, and the bull, | as usual, blundered around and follow | ed the last conner With matchless i skill, and, when all is said, splendid | daring, the beast was passed from man | to man, and so the game went on, kind of mad ''cross-tick," played at 1 the risk of human life. At last the l bulls neck bristled all over with the torturing darts, and again the bugles
 
 1 After this there was an interval of | perhaps quarter of an hour, during l which some one struck up the song of "Riverte the Torrero," which is sung by every child in Spain The vast mul- titude took up the swinging chorus ''Ti veo Riverte" until the great plaza seemed filled with sound. Presently there was sudden stiffness, and a handsome man in crimson silk, whose breast blazed with jewels, walked l quietly into the arena, and swept his ! gold-laced hat to his knee as he passed the governors stand. This was the "espada," or maestro" as he is all ways called in Spain, the "matador' as described in most English htera- l ture
 Three attendants followed, and talk ing long, straight -bladed sword from the hands of one he raised it in salute, and the multitude stood up as one man and shouted until he quieted them with 8 gesture.
 Meantime, the bull stood still, paw ing up the ground, it's shoulder rent by lanceheads, its neck bristling with darts, while horns and head and fore ! of It's injuries were serious, but, as in- tended, sufficient to change it's early fury into sullen and murderous rage. With the sword in his right hand and cloak upon his other arm, the maestro moved slowly toward it, and there was a breathless hush the while. Now bull may only be killed in one way--the mob would tear the man who zA,... T l. 1Ir {, N41, r., pieces. The torrero must lean right over it's head. and pass the sword downward beteween the shoulders, and to do this his breast is within an inch or two of the keen-pointed horns.
 When the bull would have charged him the maestro stood calmly still and deliberately struck it upon the nostrils with his clenched fist; and. apparently cowed for the first time, the beast halt ed stupidly. Instantly the bright sword flashed in the sun glare, the 1.-the red figure lunged forward, and then, while a hoarse gasp rose up from the crowd swayed sideways from the waist. while the bull dashed past and across the arena with the misdirected sword sticking in the gristle of it's neck Again the maestro stood before it, and by some mysterious power, which may only have been absolute fearlessness actually drove the bull sulkily back ward foot by foot, and then provoked it to charge.
 A last rush was made, and it seem- ed to us that jewelled breast actually touched the crusted horns. Then, even as we expected to see the man hurled lifeless to the ground, with choking below the bull reeled sideways, sank down upon it's knees and finally rolled over in the sand.-From London Soci- ety.