a king--Here comes another crowd of them round
the corner, look. See the girls throwing kisses to them. Ridiculous
business!"

At that moment our friend the bed-maker came out to see the procession
go past. And while he was wishing us good morning and enquiring how
we had slept, a friend of his walked up and joined us. The bed-maker
introduced this friend to us as Don Enrique Cardenas.

Don Enrique when he heard where we were from, spoke to us in English. He
appeared to be a well-educated, gentlemanly sort of person.

"And you go to see the bullfight to-morrow, yes?" he asked the Doctor
pleasantly.

"Certainly not," said John Dolittle firmly. "I don't like
bullfights--cruel, cowardly shows."

Don Enrique nearly exploded. I never saw a man get so excited. He
told the Doctor that he didn't know what he was talking about. He said
bullfighting was a noble sport and that the matadors were the bravest
men in the world.

"Oh, rubbish!" said the Doctor. "You never give the poor bull a chance.
It is only when he is all tired and dazed that your precious matadors
dare to try and kill him."

I thought the Spaniard was going to strike the Doctor he got so angry.
While he was still spluttering to find words, the bed-maker came between
them and took the Doctor aside. He explained to John Dolittle in a
whisper that this Don Enrique Cardenas was a very important person; that
he it was who supplied the bulls--a special, strong black kind--from his
own farm for all the bullfights in the Capa Blancas. He was a very
rich man, the bed-maker said, a most important personage. He mustn't be
allowed to take offense on any account.

I watched the Doctor's face as the bed-maker finished, and I saw a flash
of boyish mischief come into his eyes as though an idea had struck him.
He turned to the angry Spaniard.

"Don Enrique," he said, "you tell me your bullfighters are very
brave men and skilful. It seems I have offended you by saying that
bullfighting is a poor sport. What is the name of the best matador you
have for to-morrow's show?"

"Pepito de Malaga," said Don Enrique, "one of the greatest names, one of
the bravest men, in all Spain."

"Very well," said the Doctor, "I have a proposal to make to you. I have
never fought a bull in my life. Now supposing I were to go into the ring
to-morrow with Pepito de Malaga and any other matadors you choose; and
if I can do more tricks with a bull than they can, would you promise to
do somet