Marshall County Republican. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1856-1878, 1878-03-07
Agnes Fowler's Ideal.
BY ANNIE f. FISHER.

IL At1luCoo VI tlO pCA1SCb DlOuuS. HOA
yet the rich darkness of the brunette.
Her features were irregular, and, but
for her eyes, her face in repose would
have been called very plain, il not
ugly. Every one who knew her
acknowledged the beauty of her eyes.
Large brown eyes they were, with, at
times, wistful light in their depths;
at others a flash and sparkle that
quite won the observer, despite the
plain features. Like a fine painting
hung in plain frame, you forget
that the frame exists and only see
the beauties which the artist has
placed upon the canvas. Agnes was
the only daughter OF widow. A
little cottage in the village was all
their fortune, unless we count the
untiring energy and the vigorous
cultivated intellect of our heroine.
She was the organist in the village
church and teacher in the village
academy.
One spring afternoon Agnes was
walking slowly homeward enjoying a
bath in the spring sunshine. She
felt little weary with her days Ia
Dor, but contented and happy withal.
As she was passing Judge Benton's,
she saw a stranger entering the
house with Arthur Benton. 90 there
is cousin Palph," cried little Jennie
Benton, as she flew past her teacher
and up the walk to speak to her
cousin.
Who cousin Ralph was, Agnes had
not the remotest idea. She walked
on, humming tune, as she turned
into a cross street that led to her
home, wholly unmindful Of the re-
marks that were being made con-
cerning her.
"There is the little organist 1 told
you Of, Ralph Arthur Benton said,
hastily drawing his cousin out again
upon the piazza.
What that homely little thing in
a calico gown? Whewl" and he gave
a long low whistle. Il thought from
your description, Arthur, she must
be equal to Venus at least"
Arthur shrugged his shoulders,
smiled an odd little smile and led the
way up stairs. His mental comment
was agnes is no firt: bat there is a
witchery about her that few can re-
sist. II want to see how Ralph will
make it. rather think that both
have found their match"
The next Sabbath Ralph and Ar
thur were in their pew when Agnes
came in. One sweeping glance she
cast over the congregation, as she
seated herself at the organ, then
bent her eyes intently upon her book.
Ralph started slightly as he encoun-
tered those eyes. Arthur was on the
watch and something very like a
smile curved his lips. Strange az it
may seem, Arthur was anxious that
Agnes should fascinate Ralph. Per-
haps the truest explanation of his
feelings was, he did not relish the
idea Of his most intimate friend,
Ralph, being more invunerable than
himself. He had yielded to the
charms OF Agnes presence, had
offered himself and been refused in
so delicate manner mat he felt
none of the littleness usual on such
occasions. He was still her friend
and esteemed her highly. He did
not speak OF her again to Ralph; and,
rs his cousin had no pretext for men
tioning her, the subject was dropped.
One May day the academy had a
picnic. A May picnic with its May
queen, May pole and all its pleasant
accompaniments, and all the annoy
ing details on such an occasion.
when their wants had been attended
to and their appetites appeased, she
left them merry with their games,
and wandered down the brook little
way. She was tired and wanted a
few quiet moments. Seating herself
on grassy plat beneath an old oak,
she leaned back against the friendly
trunk, her eyes half closed, her little
brown hands lying listlessly in her
lap.
A delicious langor stole over her.
Suddenly she heard step beside her
and started up. slightly bewildered
to find Arthur Benton and his
cousin beside her. Her self-posses-
sion returned in an instant as Arthur
presented his cousin, Mr. Wilson. In
a week, Ralph Wilson had forgotten
that Agnes Fowler was plain; had
forgotten everything save the sweet
ness Of her smile, the rose charm that
hung like a witchery about her, and
the sly glances he now and then
caught from those brown eyes usu-
ally yelled beneath their long lashes.
Two, three, four months passed, and
yet Ralph fingered, anxious, yet
fearful to tell the little village maid
en- of his love.
He had fiirted desperately with
many city bellies, had breathed sweet
nothings in their ears time and
again. Why should he stand In awe
of this little country girl? He could
not fathom the reason. He had
never said to her what he had said tC
them. In fact, there had been nc
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