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_. There was Mrs.
Follingsbee,--a tall, handsome, dark-eyed, dark-haired, dashing woman,
French dressed from the tip of her lace parasol to the toe of
her boot. There was Mademoiselle Therese, the French maid, an
inexpressibly fine lady; and there was _la petite_ Marie, Mrs.
Follingsbee's three-year-old hopeful, a lean, bright-eyed little
thing, with a great scarlet bow on her back that made her look like
a walking butterfly. On the whole, the tableau of arrival was so
impressive, that Bridget and Annie, Rosa and all the kitchen cabinet,
were in a breathless state of excitement.

"How do I find you, _ma chere_?" said Mrs. Follingsbee, folding Lillie
rapturously to her breast. "I've been just dying to see you! How
lovely every thing looks! Oh, _ciel_! how like dear Paris!" she said,
as she was conducted into the parlor, and sunk upon the sofa.

"Pretty well done, too, for America!" said Mr. Follingsbee, gazing
round, and settling his collar. Mr. Follingsbee was one of the class
of returned travellers who always speak condescendingly of any
thing American; as, "so-so," or "tolerable," or "pretty fair,"--a
considerateness which goes a long way towards keeping up the spirits
of the country.

"I say, Dick," said his lady, "have you seen to the bags and wraps?"

"All right, madam."

"And my basket of medicines and the books?"

"O.K.," replied Dick, sententiously.

"Oh! how often must I tell you not to use those odious slang terms?"
said his wife, reprovingly.

"Oh! Mrs. John Seymour knows _me_ of old," said Mr. Follingsbee,
winking facetiously at Lillie. "We've had many a jolly lark together;
haven't we, Lill?"

"Certainly we have," said Lillie, affably. "But come, darling," she
added to Mrs. Follingsbee, "don't you want to be shown you