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Updated: May 15, 2025
Ordonez stabbed between the horns at the spot in the neck. The bull jerked his head up. The stab had missed. Then the bull watched the sword. When Ordonez moved the cloth on the ground, the bull forgot the sword and lowered his head to smell the cloth. Again Ordonez stabbed, and again he failed. He tried many times. It was stupid. And John Harned said nothing.
"The man steps, out of the way and the bull rushes by," Harned interrupted. "Yes," said Luis Cervallos; "that is it. The bull shuts his eyes, and the man knows it." "But cows do not shut their eyes," said John Harned. "I know a cow at home that is a Jersey and gives milk, that would whip the whole gang of them." "But the toreadors do not fight cows," said I.
After that we talked no more, but watched the fight. And John Harned was going mad all the time, and we did not know. The bull refused to charge the horse. And the horse stood still, and because it could not see it did not know that the capadors were trying to make the bull charge upon it.
But also is she most beautiful in every country in Paris, in Madrid, in New York, in Vienna. Always do all men look at her, and John Harned looked long at her at Panama. He loved her, that I know for a fact. She was Ecuadoriano, true but she was of all countries; she was of all the world. She spoke many languages. She sang ah! like an artiste. Her smile wonderful, divine.
"It is a marvel that the poor brute can hold up the weight of the rider," said John Harned. "And now that the horse fights the bull, what weapons has it?" "The horse does not fight the bull," said Luis Cervallos. "Oh," said John Harned, "then is the horse there to be gored? That must be why it is blindfolded, so that it shall not see the bull coming to gore it."
This bad conduct made those angry that sat in the box of General Salazar, and they cried out against John Harned. And Urcisino Castillo told him to his face that he was a dog of a Gringo and other things. Only it was in Spanish, and John Harned did not understand.
It is brave. It is magnificent! Ah! I could love the toreador. But the man of the prize-fight he is the brute, the human beast, the savage primitive, the maniac that receives many blows in his stupid face and rejoices. Come to Quito and I will show you the brave sport of men, the toreador and the bull." But John Harned did not go to Quito for the bull-fight. He went because of Maria Valenzuela.
Her eyes ah! have I not seen men look in her eyes? They were what you English call amazing. They were promises of paradise. Men drowned themselves in her eyes. Maria Valenzuela was rich richer than I, who am accounted very rich in Ecuador. But John Harned did not care for her money. He had a heart a funny heart. He was a fool. He did not go to Lima.
"They are afraid to fight cows," said John Harned. "Yes," said Luis Cervallos, "they are afraid to fight cows. There would be no sport in killing toreadors." "There would be some sport," said John Harned, "if a toreador were killed once in a while. When I become an old man, and mayhap a cripple, and should I need to make a living and be unable to do hard work, then would I become a bull-fighter.
Millicent saw Lena walking sedately with the governess of no charm and encyclopaedic information. "Now we're all right," called Brockton, loudly. "Upon my word, Mrs. Dinsmore, I think you were asleep! Miss Harned, you can't be as entertaining as I thought if your cousin falls asleep with you." "But think how soothing I must be; that's even better than to be entertaining." "By ginger!
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