CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
THE DANDY.
Fine feathers make fine birds.

This is a proverb which a great many people in our country--especially young people--most devoutly believe in, and they show their belief in a very emphatic way.

They rig themselves out in the height of the fashion, no matter how ridiculous it is, or how uncomfortable; they take airs upon themselves which do not properly belong to them; they try to pass for something finer than they are, and if they do not end by being laughed at it is no fault of theirs.
You never saw such a dandy as we had at our school.

He rejoiced in the name of Frederick Fop, and seemed possessed of the notion that his dainty person was worthy of the utmost amount of decoration that any one person could bestow upon it.

No one objects to a fellow having a good coat and trousers, and a respectable hat; but when it comes to canary- coloured pantaloons, and cuffs up to the finger ends, and collars as high as the ears, and a hat as shiny as a looking-glass, the fellow gets to be rather a nuisance.