Ernest Miller Hemingway

“ Bill said. "Don't you ever detach me from the herd, Mike."
"I say," Mike said, "they were fine bulls, weren't they? Did you see their horns?"
"Did I not," said Brett. "I had no idea what they were like."
"Did you see the one hit that steer?" Mike asked. "That was extraordinary."
"It's no life being a steer," Robert Cohn said.
"Don't you think so?" Mike said. "I would have thought you'd loved being a steer, Robert."
"What do you mean, Mike?"
"They lead such a quiet life. They never say anything and they're always hanging about so." ”

“ We often talked about bulls and bull-fighters. I had stopped at the Montoya for several years. We never talked for very long at a time. It was simply the pleasure of discovering what we each felt. Men would come in from distant towns and before they left Pamplona stop and talk for a few minutes with Montoya about bulls. These men were aficionados. Those who were aficionados could always get rooms even when the hotel was full. Montoya introduced me to some of them. They were always very polite at first, and it amused them very much that I should be an American. ”

“ Montoya said.
I went up-stairs. Bill was in his room standing on the balcony looking out at the square. I stood beside him.
"Where's Cohn?"
"Up-stairs in his room."
"How does he feel?"
"Like hell, naturally. Mike was awful. He's terrible when he's tight."
"He wasn't so tight."
"The hell he wasn't. I know what we had before we came to the café."
"He sobered up afterward."
"Good. He was terrible. I don't like Cohn, God knows, and I think it was a silly trick for him to go down to San Sebastian, but nobody has any business to talk like Mike." ”

“ A single mule was hitched to one of the cages and dragged it up against the gate in the corral wall. The men shoved and lifted it with crowbars into position against the gate. Men were standing on the wall ready to pull up the gate of the corral and then the gate of the cage. At the other end of the corral a gate opened and two steers came in, swaying their heads and trotting, their lean flanks swinging. They stood together at the far end, their heads toward the gate where the bull would enter.
"They don't look happy," Brett said. ”

“ I walked up the road and got out the two bottles of wine. They were cold. Moisture beaded on the bottles as I walked back to the trees. I spread the lunch on a newspaper, and uncorked one of the bottles and leaned the other against a tree. Bill came up drying his hands, his bag plump with ferns.
"Let's see that bottle," he said. He pulled the cork, and tipped up the bottle and drank. "Whew! That makes my eyes ache."
"Let's try it."
The wine was icy cold and tasted faintly rusty.
"That's not such filthy wine," Bill said.
"The cold helps it," I said. ”

“ Aficion means passion. An aficionado is one who is passionate about the bull-fights. All the good bull-fighters stayed at Montoya's hotel; that is, those with aficion stayed there. The commercial bull-fighters stayed once, perhaps, and then did not come back. The good ones came each year. In Montoya's room were their photographs. The photographs were dedicated to Juanito Montoya or to his sister. The photographs of bull-fighters Montoya had really believed in were framed. Photographs of bull-fighters who had been without aficion Montoya kept in a drawer of his desk. ”

“ I went on looking for the tackle and putting it all together in the tackle-bag.
"Aren't you interested?" Bill asked.
"I'm going down and eat."
"Eat? Why didn't you say eat? I thought you just wanted me to get up for fun. Eat? Fine. Now you're reasonable. You go out and dig some more worms and I'll be right down."
"Oh, go to hell!"
"Work for the good of all." Bill stepped into his underclothes. "Show irony and pity."
I started out of the room with the tackle-bag, the nets, and the rod-case. ”

“ Bill said. "I don't remember what it was about, but it was a lovely dream."
"I don't think I dreamt."
"You ought to dream," Bill said. "All our biggest business men have been dreamers. Look at Ford. Look at President Coolidge. Look at Rockefeller. Look at Jo Davidson."
I disjointed my rod and Bill's and packed them in the rod-case. I put the reels in the tackle-bag. Bill had packed the rucksack and we put one of the trout-bags in. ”

“ Bill said.
The road went up a hill and we got into thick woods, and the road kept on climbing. Sometimes it dipped down but rose again steeply. All the time we heard the cattle in the woods. Finally, the road came out on the top of the hills. We were on the top of the height of land that was the highest part of the range of wooded hills we had seen from Burguete. There were wild strawberries growing on the sunny side of the ridge in a little clearing in the trees. ”

“ A man shouted from behind one of the boxes and slapped his hat against the planks, and the bull, before he reached the steer, turned, gathered himself and charged where the man had been, trying to reach him behind the planks with a half-dozen quick, searching drives with the right horn. ”

“ At the far end of the plateau boys had climbed into the trees.
"They must think something is going to happen," Brett said.
"They want to see the bulls."
Mike and Bill were on the other wall across the pit of the corral. They waved to us. People who had come late were standing behind us, pressing against us when other people crowded them. ”

“ Brett said. We were looking right down on him.
"Look how he knows how to use his horns," I said. 'He's got a left and a right just like a boxer."
"Not really?"
"You watch."
"It goes too fast."
"Wait. There'll be another one in a minute."
They had backed up another cage into the entrance. In the far corner a man, from behind one of the plank shelters, attracted the bull, and while the bull was facing away the gate was pulled up and a second bull came out into the corral. ”

“ They were beautifully colored and firm and hard from the cold water. It was a hot day, so I slit them all and shucked out the insides, gills and all, and tossed them over across the river. I took the trout ashore, washed them in the cold, smoothly heavy water above the dam, and then picked some ferns and packed them all in the bag, three trout on a layer of ferns, then another layer of ferns, then three more trout, and then covered them with ferns. They looked nice in the ferns, and now the bag was bulky, and I put it in the shade of the tree. ”

“ It was dated San Sebastian, Sunday:
Dear Jake,
We got here Friday, Brett passed out on the train, so brought her here for 3 days rest with old friends of ours. We go to Montoya Hotel Pamplona Tuesday, arriving at I don't know what hour. Will you send a note by the bus to tell us what to do to rejoin you all on Wednesday. All our love and sorry to be late, but Brett was really done in and will be quite all right by Tues. and is practically so now. I know her so well and try to look after her but it's not so easy. Love to all the chaps,
Michael.
"What day of the week is it?" I asked Harris. ”

“ Stop over another day. Be a good chap."
"We really have to get into town," I said.
"What a pity."
After breakfast Bill and I were sitting warming in the sun on a bench out in front of the inn and talking it over. I saw a girl coming up the road from the centre of the town. She stopped in front of us and took a telegram out of the leather wallet that hung against her skirt. ”

“ Caffeine puts a man on her horse and a woman in his grave. You know what's the trouble with you? You're an expatriate. One of the worst type. Haven't you heard that? Nobody that ever left their own country ever wrote anything worth printing. ”