On that memorable Sunday afternoon it was swarming with people. The sidewalks, too, were crowded with excited, noisy pedestrians, eager to advance. They dared not, however, venture into the street, for that was full of vehicles. And such vehicles! All sorts of cabs, carts, omnibuses, and gaudily painted wagons, loaded down with people, were whirling along (sometimes six abreast), as if their drivers held a direct commission from the devil. One carriage in particular attracted great attention, for it contained four distinguished toreadors. Behind them on a horse, adorned with lavish decorations, came a showily dressed man, who was received with cheers.

Bull-Fighters.

"Who is he?" I inquired; "some prominent member of the Government?"

"He? " was the answer; "No, indeed! He is a more distinguished man to-day than any one of the queen's ministers: - he is the master of ceremonies for the bull-fight."

The Amphitheatre At Madrid.

As we drew near the amphitheatre, our attention was called to two other heroes of the arena, surrounded by a gaping crowd. Their gorgeous dress would of itself have attracted the admiration of the populace; but in addition to this, these toreadors have often shown undoubted bravery when their lives hung on a single motion of the hand or foot. One of them was at that time the most distinguished matador in Spain; but no one would ever have supposed so from a view of his face. Fully aware that he was the observed of all observers, he wore a self-complacent smile of vanity. His plump cheeks betrayed no hint of training for athletic sports; but no doubt, like so many famous actors, if placed in the arena he would be in an instant quite transformed. The more I thought of this, the more I wished to see the transformation, and my desire was soon gratified. As we approached the entrance, Patricio pointed out to us some priests, who are always in attendance here to administer the sacrament to any dying bull-fighter. With this cheerful hint of what we were to see, we left our vehicle; which wheeled about while the last one of our party was still in the air, and rattled off in quest of other passengers. Then, guided by the skillful Patricio, we passed within the vast enclosure.

The bull-ring at Madrid is built after the style of an old Roman amphitheatre. It is nearly circular in form. Around the arena on the outside are corridors, with doors opening inwards toward the ring. Our seats were in the second story. We therefore ascended a flight of stairs and passed within the amphitheatre. A striking view outlined itself before us.

Around us on every hand was an unbroken, beautifully curving wall about a hundred feet in height. Below us was the arena; and between this and the top of the encircling wall was the most brilliant spectacle imaginable; for in the balconies and boxes were gathered no less than fifteen thousand people. Part of these were, of course, seated in the shade, and part in the sun, as the amphitheatre is entirely open to the sky. Some seats are exposed to the solar rays during the entire afternoon; but the Spaniards do not seem to mind it. At all events, on this occasion, six thousand Spanish salamanders were assembled there, resigned to being grilled on their benches, if they could only see the noble sport. They naturally formed the most economical portion of the audience, for the sunny seats are cheapest, the shady ones the most expensive. Between the paradise of shade, however, and the inferno of the sun, is a small strip of purgatory, where, as the sun declines, some favored souls pass gradually from its torturing glare to cooler shadow. The price of purgatorial seats is therefore just midway between the others. As it was a question of money and not of merit, I found myself that day in paradise. The contrast between sunlight and shadow was most beautiful; for where the sunlight fell, six thousand brightly painted fans glittered with all the colors of the rainbow; while in the shade, the toilettes of the ladies, with their lovely black or white lace mantillas, were distinctly visible. It was one of those sights that for an instant make the heart beat almost to suffocation and cause one to catch his breath.

Selecting Bulls For The Arena.