Fifteen Thousand for Dinner: The Butchers Roast Seattle a Whole Ox

The butchers' barbecue yesterday was a grand success. Every arrangement, even to the weather, was perfect, and the butchers owned the town and the town was willing, and wished it would fall into the butchers' hands oftener. Fully 15,000 people, by actual count on the cars, went out to see the sights at Madison Park yesterday and to get a share of the barbecue.

The roasts and side dishes were served under a leaf trellis that had been put up near the pit containing the roasted animals, and it was packed full of hungry folk during four solid hours. At first the hands were served to the guests as they crowded to the ropes about the distributing table, but it soon appeared that only those who had been trained on the football fields had much chance of getting anything, while the untrained were swept hither and thither, back and forth, but never getting to the army of servers, who were carving and slinging as had never been known before. To give everyone a fair chance the crowd was asked to distribute itself about on the grass in any way that suited its own sweet fancy, which it did, and a swarm of waiters attended to the wants of all — even to the stray dogs that had seemed to feast afar off. It was surely the grandest picnic that Seattle has ever known.

This is the way the day began: At noon the Seattle butchers, who had collected in Pioneer place, walked down to the Yesler dock to meet the Tacoma delegation, who lined up and, with their guests, marched while the First regiment band played an air of welcome. The procession then formed with the First regiment band and the Seattle butchers at the head, under the command of Marshal H. Smith, who managed magnificently a prancing charger, followed by the Tacoma butcher band, a gorgeously appareled drum major and the several hundred visitors from the Sound. The line of march was up Mill and South Second, down Pike to Front, and then to the Madison street car line. Decorated cars were in readiness to transfer the members of the parade to the lake.

Then came the Tacoma delegation, led by William White, the tallest man in the Northwest, and the Tacoma band, numbering in all some 500 and stretching along the street for seven blocks and a half.

Long before the marchers arrived the grounds in and about the park were full of life. Tents had been put up and a number of side attractions started. A rattling performance was given in the theater, after which the floor was cleared and those who did not care for the ball game over the way amused themselves by dancing to music furnished by the Mexican band.

As to the ball game, it was hardly as close as had been expected. The Nonpareils, though they played well in some innings, got rattled at times and made costly errors, the effects of which subsequent brilliant plays could not overcome. Their opponents, the Twin City nine of Arlington, were decidedly heavier, and this was shown in their batting. The score was heavily in favor of the visitors. Time of game, three hours.

Following the hundred-yard dash came the tug of war between the newsboys and a team made up on the grounds, which resulted in a victory for the newsboys. Next came the greased pig, which created a great deal of merriment and was caught by George Detwiler.

As night came on the pavilion and the buildings near it were brilliantly illuminated, and a stereopticon entertainment was given for those who chose to sit out on the balconies and lawns. A number of steamers and launches picked their way along the shore, their glimmering lights adding greatly to the beauty of the scene. The Mexican band played again and called forth an encore of the lancers, and everyone had a rattling good time — looking, as Chimmy Fallen would say, "up to de limit an' outer sight."