Last evening a crowd, the like of which Chicago probably never saw before, attended the festival of the Socialist Publishing Company in the Exposition Building. Long before eight o'clock (the opening hour) all streetcars leading to the central part of the city were overcrowded, and Monroe Street, as well as Adams Street, was choked with a surging multitude. Obviously, the planners of the festival have much to learn. Although ten thousand tickets were sold by noon, providing admission to that many men and as many ladies as each ticket holder cared to bring along--bringing the total attendance to about thirty thousand--the committee in charge provided only one entrance. Consequently, there was great congestion; moreover, many people who had no tickets--yet wanted to buy them--were carried along into the hall by the crowd without paying anything, the ushers being powerless to interfere.

Those in charge of the festival should be glad that no calamity came about; truly, ample opportunities presented themselves. How the many infants, some as young as six weeks, managed to survive this swarm of humanity and the dense tobacco smoke in the hall, is beyond our comprehension.

From the standpoint of mass attendance the festival was a success, but that is all. And, lest our declaration be regarded as prejudiced, let it be recorded that this statement emanated, at least in substance, from Mr. [Paul] Grottkau.

The mass was overly large, and the north half of the Exposition Building entirely inadequate. The people were pressed together so closely that the Socialist militia (sharpshooters, hunters, and members of the Instruction and Defence Association), about six hundred men, had to content themselves with marching through the hall; sufficient room for performing was simply not available.

The music appeared to be in the remote distance, even to those stationed but a few feet from the podium. The orchestral strains could not penetrate. A speech would have been out of the question, and Parsons, the speaker of the evening, did not appear.

However, Dr. Ernst Schmidt, Socialist candidate for mayor, mounted the speakers' platform near the elevator, and would have left without making an address, if Grottkau had not come up to make an announcement. The latter said that, as there was apparently no room for the militia to exercise, that part of the program would be eliminated, and he proposed that the audience should hail the veterans of 1848 and 1871. At this opportune time he introduced Dr. Schmidt, the mayoral candidate. The latter declared, after being received with acclaim, that he greeted the multitude in the name of liberty, equality, and fraternity, and that the great crowd gave him definite proof that the Socialists support, staunchly and faithfully, the principles of their party.

This, then, constituted the entire official proceedings, which will be continued today, according to Mr. Grottkau. Even after ten o'clock, people sought admittance, but the city architect prohibited any further influx, as the overcrowded galleries sagged several inches.

About fifty tables, usually used to support steins of beer, served as platforms, and broke under the strain. The racket caused by the splintering wood was the only audible music; it coincided with the militia's entrance, and the sound was not unlike that of rifle fire. At least two thirds of the crowd were Germans, the remainder being Bohemians and Poles. Their conduct was very orderly, though somewhat lifeless. Too many were present; it was difficult even to procure suitable drinks. Probably after midnight, and after the ranks were thinned out, a more animated spirit may have prevailed.