ed activity, but not into anything like fury or
even a dangerous animosity. He is treated to fire-crackers, and gores
one horse a little--the horse standing, side on, and taking it, until
the bull is driven off by the punching of the spear; and runs at the
other horse, and, to my delight, upsets the rider, but unfortunately
without hurting him, and the black-haired matador in green tries his
hand on him and fails again, and is hooted, and takes to throwing darts,
and gets a fall, and looks disconcerted, and gets his sword again, and
makes another false thrust; and the crippled and bleeding animal is
thrown down and dispatched by the butcher with his short knife, and
drawn off by the three poor horses. The gates close, and I hurry out in
a din of shouts and drums and trumpets, the great crowd waiting for the
last bull--but I have seen enough.

There is no volante waiting, and I have to take my seat in an omnibus,
and wait for the end of the scene. The confusion of cries and shouts and
the interludes of music still goes on, for a quarter of an hour, and
then the crowd begins to pour out, and to scatter over the ground. Four
faces in a line are heading for my omnibus. There is no mistaking that
head man, the file leader. "Down East" is written legibly all over his
face. Tall, thin, sallow, grave, circumspect! The others are not
counterparts. They vary. But "New England" is graven on all.

"Wa-a-al!" says the leader, as he gets into the omnibus. No reply. They
take their seats, and wipe their foreheads. One expectorates. Another
looks too wise for utterance. "By," ... a long pause--How will he end
it?--"Jingoes!" That is a failure. It is plain he fell short, and did
not end as he intended. The sentiment of the four has not yet got
uttered. The fat, flaxen-haired man makes his attempt. "If there is a
new milch cow in Vermont that wouldn't show more fight, under such
usage, than them bulls, I'd buy her and make a present of her to
Governor _Cunchy_--or whatever they call him."

This is practical and direct, and opens the way to a more free
interchange. The northern ice is thawed. The meanness and cruelty of the
exhibition is commented upon. The moral view is not overlooked, nor
underrated.--None but cowards would be so cruel. And last of all, it is
an imposition. Their money has been obtained under false pretences. A
suit would lie to recover it back; but the poor devils are welcome to
the money. The coach fills up with Cub