dden rattling and whoaing and
bumping of baggage was heard. The interruption came from before the
front-door. The "Railroad-Omnibus" had driven up to the house.

"It is, doubtless, my good friend Professor Owlsdarck," said Colonel
Prowley,--courteously rebuking an exclamation of astonishment from his
sister, who had gone to the window;--"to be sure, we did not expect him
to-day, but he is ever a most welcome guest."

"But it is _not_ Professor Owlsdarck!" cried the sister, in shrillest
tones of feminine amazement. "That portly figure to which the pencil of
the artist has done such feeble justice! the spectacles with the square
glasses! the enormous seal of the Sextons!--it can be but one man!"

"What! you don't mean"----

"Yes, but I _do_ mean! Come and see for yourself!"

"A ghost in an omnibus! Why, sister, sister, the
Detached--what-you-may-call-it has got into your head,--or, heavens! can
it be that our unbelief is punished with this frightful manifestation?"

"It is Sir Joseph Barley himself!" ejaculated Miss Prowley.

"Surrounded by his bank of silver-tunicked attendants?" gasped the
Colonel, in desperate interrogation.

"No, no, nothing of the kind," said Dr. Burge, assuringly; "he has not
brought even a footman."

And it _was_ Sir Joseph Barley,--in the flesh,--and in a good deal of
it, too;--Sir Joseph Barley, full to overflowing with talk and
compliments. He had long planned a journey to America, and a surprise to
his Fellow-Sexton in Foxden. The trip had been necessarily postponed
from week to week, and then from month to month. Always expecting to
leave by the next steamer, he had never thought it worth while to write.
Had been on shore exactly nine hours, was delighted with the country,
and had already written the first chapter of a book about it. Was,
nevertheless, surprised to see none of the native Red Men upon the wharf
when the Canada arrived. Should have thought the spectacle would have
been both novel and imposing to them. After dinner, would, with
permission, go into the forests about Foxden, and visit this singular
people in their national wigwams.

How picture the delight of hospitable Colonel Prowley, when, volubly
delivering these and other sentiments, the High Priest and Potentate
over all Sextondom entered the parlor and made himself comfortable in a
rocking-chair?

There is no need to dwell upon the matronly bustle of Miss Prowley, who,
utterly ignoring the proper ordinances of t