The festival lasted three days and was quite an affair.
The street was garlanded with yellow and white bunting; there were processions and "floats" and brass bands.

Marcus Schouler was in his element during the whole time of the celebration.

He was one of the marshals of the parade, and was to be seen at every hour of the day, wearing a borrowed high hat and cotton gloves, and galloping a broken-down cab-horse over the cobbles.

He carried a baton covered with yellow and white calico, with which he made furious passes and gestures.
His voice was soon reduced to a whisper by continued shouting, and he raged and fretted over trifles till he wore himself thin.

McTeague was disgusted with him.