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The British Ambassador and the French Ambassador want to meet Señor Juan Cadiz. Did you know that your friend Cadiz is the greatest living authority on Aztec worship and a hectic fan for bullfighting as a national sport? My little party is entirely informal, one of the things the newspapers ordinarily don't comment on.
For as we came out of the shop and loaded the cab up with our stores, we saw various little knots of angry men hunting round the streets, waving sticks and shouting, "The Englishmen! Where are those accursed Englishmen who stopped the bullfighting? Hang them to a lamp-post! Throw them in the sea! The Englishmen! We want the Englishmen!" After that we didn't waste any time, you may be sure.
"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.
If you wished to stop all bullfighting here after to-morrow, you could do it, couldn't you?" "Yes," said Don Enrique proudly "I could." "Well that is what I ask of you if I win my wager," said John Dolittle. "If I can do more with angry bulls than can Pepito de Malaga, you are to promise me that there shall never be another bullfight in the Capa Blancas so long as you are alive to stop it.
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