Clean Sport

The Babe Ruth of Spain arrived last week in London. Glossy hair curled close to his head; grace governed his slightest motion. To grace and slightest motions he owes his life a thousand times. He was Antonio Marquez, famed matador. His

Queen, Victoria, granddaughter of Eng land's great Victoria, dislikes, in common with most Britishers, the bull fight. A sporting, "horsy" nation, they hate particularly to hear of horses blindfolded and torn to pieces in the ring. Marquez cried through the streets of London that bull fighting is not cruel. He proposed to prove it; to fight a bull in London; to show that speed, skill, sportsmanship which England worships are foundations of his trade. No horses would be disemboweled. Instead of killing the bull he would kiss it; tease the beast a little; stroke it; finally plant a caress on its cruel horns as it came plunging by. Lesser matadors at home in Spain followed anxiously the progress of their ambassador of good will toward bull fights in the foreign, unfriendly land of their Queen. Their livelihood, traditions, national sport of Spain were perhaps dependent in some small future degrees upon it. Marquez's offer to kiss bulls was received in London calmly.