CHAPTER XV.
_THE FOLLINGSBEES ARRIVE_.
Next week the Follingsbees alighted, so to speak, from a cloud of glory.

They came in their own carriage, and with their own horses; all in silk and silver, purple and fine linen, "with rings on their fingers and bells on their toes," as the old song has it.

We pause to caution our readers that this last clause is to be interpreted metaphorically.
[Illustration: THE FOLLINGSBEES.] Springdale stood astonished.

The quiet, respectable old town had not seen any thing like it for many a long day; the ostlers at the hotel talked of it; the boys followed the carriage, and hung on the slats of the fence to see the party alight, and said to one another in their artless vocabulary, "Golly! ain't it bully ?" There was Mr.Dick Follingsbee, with a pair of waxed, tow-colored moustaches like the French emperor's, and ever so much longer.

He was a little, thin, light-colored man, with a yellow complexion and sandy hair; who, with the appendages aforesaid, looked like some kind of large insect, with very long _antennae_.