Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1886-12-04
MARRIED The BUFFERS BROTHER

Mr. Peleg V. Atkinson was good man,
and If he had been q poor man he would
have been happy one. But unfortunately
he was rich and had gone TO Europe-as
that amiable Sir Lepel Griffin once said-to
finish an education that had never been
begun at home.
Peleg V. Atkinson, without the Mr., ,"
which, in obedience to what he was assured
was a New York custom, he always had
engraved on his cards, was worth much at
the foot of check. twas a great name in
the Philadelphia marts of trade. Third
street knew and honored it, and it was not
unknown in Wall street. AS said he was
rich: he had i" skinned the cream off Eu-
rope" as he phrased it. and he had ex-
hausted all the pleasure that could be had
from drinking sauterne at luncheon, when
he preferred beer or ice water, and of max
ing a collection of modern French pictures.
He had Corot and a Meissonnier. Vibert
and Detallie He never bought two spe-
cimens of the same artists work. He
talked of his pictures as examples" He
had orchids, a cellar of good wine and two
pretty daughters, and yet he was not hap
by, because Mrs. Peleg Y. Atkinson was
not happy.
1t is not easy for people accustomed to
the pleasures of being well-to-do to bear
the weight of riches. When ! first knew
the AtkinsonS they were thoroughly con-
tented. They drank ice-water when they
chose they dined at noon, and corned beef
and cabbage was a delight to them. On hot
DAYS Mr. Atkinson threw off his coat after
dinner, stuck a pipe in his mouth, and sat
in the back door in his shirt sleeves, while
Clarissa and Jennie played Listen to the
Mocking Bird or SilVery Waves, by
wav of refreshing him before he went
down to the Office at the factory. Gu sont
les negi dantan? asks Wilton. And Mr..
Atkinson, in after years OF splendor, often
asked the same question, in less poetlcal
language, as he thought of those happy
DAYS. Alas there could be no more sit
ting under the grapevine arbor and smok-
ing the pipe OF peace Mrs Peleg V. At
kinson would no more make the mint-julep
with her own fair hands and come out to
waken him from blissful sleep, as he sat
in the yard with a newspaper over his head
TO keep off the flies on blissful and drowsy
afternoons. Then Mrs. Atkinson was sat
isfied that her four white stone steps were
equal in size and pallor to her neighbors',
and that there was no window glass in the
whole town of Philadelphia more dazzling
than hers; but now!
Clarissa and Jennie played only Chopin;
they could not possibly condescend even to
opera music, although not averse to dash
into Wagner occasionally. He dined by
candle light, in a dress suit and stiff
white shirt bosom, which he was always
tempted to cover up with his napkin. He
had taken house Just outside of Washing
ton for the winter, for Mrs. Atkinson saw
no chance of making suitable matches for
her daughters in her native city. The
best" society was closed to her although
she lived on North Broad street. Clarisss
and Jennie could not possibly go to the
assembly ball and, above all thiDgs-out-
side of heaven, of course-Mrs. Atkinson
preferred what is called society.
Mrs Atkinson, who was what is called
capable woman, had come to know the
social characteristics Of American cities as
well as she used TO know the points of a
good fowl when she did her own market
ing at Philadelphia, and decided Washing
ton was the best place to begin the matri-
monial campaign. She felt that a foreign
establishment was preferable to an Ameri-
can one and less difficult to arrange. The
rich Americans, as she knew, were too
uncertain of their own status TO be ready
to make what their aristocratie connections
Clarissa and Jennie would make all things
easy, and in time she might. with such
prestige even be invited to the assembly
ball, where the elect OF Philadelphia
gathers; ct whose portal she now stood,
like Moore's Peri, disconsolate."
Mrs. Atkinson had acquired naughty
bearing, studied from Miss Morant's Rus
sian Countess in The Danichefs." She
was plump and rosy and imposing with
white hair Ia Nine de POmpadOur. She
seemed to be great lady until she opened
her mouth.
Clarissa and Jennie had become like their
father, unwilling slaves 10 splendOr. But
they had acquired a knowledge of the peer
age, and they knew the pedigree of the new
British Minister to the remotest quartering.
Ii was kind of the family to ask me to
spend two weeks at their house outside of
Georgetown because il is not often that
families of such quality remember their
acquaintance of the past. l went, and
when dear old Mr.. Atkinson met me with
q brougham at the station my heart sank.
Riches had aged my old friend, splendor
had Withered him the finger which held
the immense seal ring bearing his coat-of-
arms was thin and trembling. There were
more wrinkles in his face than under the
grapevine arbor His eyes were restless,
but be greeted me with the old-time cor
diality The brougham cushions were
heavily scented with heliorope, large
crest-a lion couchant-Eas embroidered
everywhere. There were two men on the
box. One of them, short, stout, red
whiskered parsonage in brown coat, came
down and spoke to Mr.. Atkinson.
You win not mind seeing 10 Mr.. Fitz-
patriek's baggage, viii you, Ludoyic?
You'll see his name on the bags-Gerald
Fitzpatrick
The man turned his rudy face toward
me. and smiled out of pair Of the most
shrewd and humorous eyes ever saw.
Sure, sir, you're an Irishman. You
have the look of il, and an Irish gentleman,
too
@pm very near TO being an Irishman,
said. laughing. a. l was born there 5oyears
ago"
The man laughed.
You're a dry one" he said, tipping his
hat "you don't look to be 50.
I'm glad Ludovic has taken fancy 10