you looked up to the lovely, serene blue sky, untroubled by even a cloud. The palisade, or barrier, below was draped with the national colors, red, white, and green, in broad stripes entirely around the arena.
It is needless to repeat the old division of the open-air theatre into two portions, that of the sun and that of the shade, for such has been the fashion of open-air theatres from the Roman Colosseum down to the New York Polo Grounds. The seats in the sun are naturally cheaper than the others. They are the most densely occupied, and it is from this part of the auditorium that the greatest enthusiasm, the chief fury of applause or disapproval, is to be looked for.
The manager of the spectacle, from his tribune in the centre of one of the long sides, just above the gate reserved for the bulls, gave the signal to begin. A procession entered, and three or four cavaliers on horseback, with tall lances, posted themselves about the barriers, recalling mediæval tournaments. A number of men on foot, the chulos with pink cloaks to attract the attention of the bull, scattered themselves about the arena. The performers were in gorgeous dresses, and all except the horsemen, the picaderos, who had their legs defended by sheet-iron coverings against the fierce onsets of the bulls, wore short breeches and silk stockings. The barrier was as high as the heads of the men on horseback, and a space intervened between it and the first row of spectators, so that no harm could come to the latter through the accidents of the fray.
A flourish of brass instruments, and forth came bull number one. He was dun-colored, large, powerful, and
active, but could not rightly be called blood-thirsty or terrible. He did not begin pawing the ground for gore according to received traditions; nevertheless, he was very
