Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1873-03-04

perfect woman. Every mans
wife falls short of his ideal. What
can you say against that little daisy,
Laura Murray"
"Just that she is daisy, bread
and-butter-miss."
"You are right, John; her six
teen years would not suit well with
your forty summers. She is too
young"
"Oh, as for that, / am not so very
old, Fanny. My eyes are ignorant
yet of crows feet, and my hair un-
streaked by gray"
"And Laura's nose is q decided
snub, john"
"Not at all. Retroussee, Fan
NY"
"And her hair is sandy"
Fanny Her hair is perfect
golden in color. In sunlight it is q
tint to drive an artist wild with en-
thusiasm."
81 think Honora Tevis would suit
you better, John. She is more ma
ture."
81 should think so She is City
if she is q day, and she dresses
hideously. l am sure Venus her.
self would be odious in that green
dress and red shawl, and the soles
of her boots are two inches thick
"Well, John, l give it up. l will
try to resign myself to the fact
that you are confirmed old bach
clor.'"
And with this parting shot, Mrs.
! Watson took her hounccs and feath-
ers from her brothers sight, to be-
stow the vision of their magnifi-
ccnce upon Mr.. Watson and three
: olive-branches who awaited her at
homo.
She smiled often as she drove
homeward, and once or twice nod
dcd her head as if well pleased at
some unspolSen suggestion of her
busy brain. L. was the dearest
wish of her heart to see her broth
cr John married, and for many
long years she had tried to accomp-
lish this end. 1t only caused her
to speak her vehement Indignation
when it was suggested that bach
elor uncle would probably bestow
large legacies upon the little
Watsons.
She did not want Johns money,
she would declare truthfully. She
wanted to see dear John himself
happily married, with children of
his own to inherit his fortune.
The conversation above recorded
shows how far from successful she
had been but q luminous idea was
now busy in her mind, and she
proceeded to act upon it.
"John," she said, when he strolled
into her parlor the next evening,
1--WE are going to the Groves next
week; when are you comingr
81 think l shall travel this sum-
mer Fan"
"Now, John, you will give us
one month first. Come, do prom
ise!"
"But, Fan, you always have so
much company"
eff you will come, l won't have
anybody at all-not young lady.
l have teased you awfully about a
wife, John, but will let you alone
after this. You may live and die
in single blessedness, if you really
desire it."
"Then l will come. But you
told me the last time we spoke of
the Groves that Miss Murray was
going with you for month";"
"Oh, she is such a mere child;
snubnosed, sandy-haired, bread
and-butter miss, scarcely out of
the school-room. OF course am
not so absurd as to suppose you
will pay attention to her. Still, if
you wish it, l will postpone her
visit till you are gone"
"Oh no. Don't alter your ar
arrangements on my account. She
will not interfere with me-"
Mrs. Watson had called Laura
Murray daisy, and q very bright,
fresh one she looked, as she stood
upon the wide porch at the Groves,
the morning after her arrival. She
was very fair, with large gray eyes,
and profusion of light hair, just
sufficiently tinged with red to be
sandy, yet glossy, waving and pret-
ty in its free unbound masses.
Her figure was graceful, and she