The scene presented by this Park reminded me of
Camacho's wedding in _Don Quixote_, on a large scale. There stood the
tent for the banquet, constructed to dine 3000 persons, and decorated
with the flags of America and England streaming from the top, with the
flags of other nations below. Close by, were large tents for the
preparation of viands, surrounded with all the paraphernalia of a
feast. In various places, booths had been erected by the city, for the
gratuitous supply of all comers with pure iced water, and these were
thronged throughout the day, especially with children. The pedestrian
portion of the procession assembled in the Park, while the vehicles
crowded all the adjacent streets. And now might be observed the
various societies, with their bands of music; volunteer companies
marching here and there, getting into step, arranging their order and
practising their tunes. I was chatting with a raw Vermonter, who was
as much a stranger as myself. 'In the name of creation,' he suddenly
exclaimed, 'what tarnal screeching is that yonder?' 'That,' I said,
'is the bagpipes, the national music of Scotland.
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