Shepherdstown register. [volume] (Shepherdstown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1849-1955, 1891-08-21
Mr.. Lynn's Birthday Party.

Samuel Lynn fingered over his des-
sert, though, as he said every day, he
hated kickshaws. But both OF his
children were at home for dinner this
evening, thing that rarely hap
pened. He knew that as soon as he
had finished his ice, they would say
they had engagements and leave him
alone to MS cigars and coffee.
He had but II hazy idea as to these
engagements which filled their lives
balls, and operas, and literary clubs,
and dinners to foreign noblemen or
noted actors, and committees on
charitable work, for both Joseph and
Margaret Lynn belonged to that class
of fashionabes who try to be OF use
in the word.
Mr. Lynn was a shrewd manufac-
turer from New Jersey, who, by
lucky turn in trade, had become en-
ormously rich late in life. He then
had done for the children what he
thought their dead mother would
have wished him to do-given them
the best education which money
could procure, brought them to New
York and settled them in an impos-
ing house on Murray Hill.
What more could he do?
He had succeeded as far as they
were concerned. They were happy
and at ease in the new life. They
belonged to it. 1t must be his own
fault if he did not.
But he was uncomfortable and
cramped in it. There were times
when he hated it all, from the dress
coat in which he dined, to his club OF
millionsires who controlled by few
words the vast movements OF trade.
What a good time he had when he
had the little mill down on the coast,
and he and Polly and the children ate
their dinner at noon.
When his birthday came, on the
have turkey. 1t was something to
have turkey then. How the children
used to clap their hands when she
carried it in, big and brown, and he
stood up to carve it, Polly never
could grow used to his wonderful
skill in carving.
Sometimes now they had turkey,
but he never saw it, His dinners
were served la Russo and thin slice
OF white meat was laid on his Sevres
plate during the tiresome succession
OF courses, butler and footmen ranged
grave as bishops behind their chairs.
Tomorrow would be the twentieth
Of March, but there would be no one
TO remember it now.
He nibbled at his macaroon more
slowly, talking eagerly OF an address
which Joseph was TO give before the
Social Science Association, and a
charity ball OF which Margaret was a
patroness. He did so want to be a
comrade with them. They listened
politely, but were both grave and pre-
occupied. 1t seemed to him that try
as he would to think with their
thoughts and see with their eyes, he
always bored them.
Samuel Lynn was not father OF
whom his children could be ashamed.
He was short, powerfully built, with
shaggy white hair and quick, chal-
longing eyes. A man OF great force
and vitality, who easily controlled
other men. yet with all his efforts he
could not bring himself on line with
these children with whom he lived
since their birth.
Margaret rose to leave the room.
He took her hand as she passed him
What a rare delicate face she had;
how like her mother! He would have
kissed her il the servants had not
been present. He wished he could
call her Peggy as he used to do and
joke and laugh with her.
What shall / give you for Easter,
my dear?'' he said.
She smiled. There is really moth
ing YOU have not given HE"