Newspaper Page Text
WHAT IS HIS CREED.
He left ft load of anthracite
In front of a poor widow's door,
When the deep enow, frozen and white.
Wrapped street and square, mountain and
That was his deed,
did it well
"What was his creed T"
I cannot tell.
His charity was like the snow—
SoH, white and silent in its fall
Not like the noisy winds that blow
Prom shivering trees the leaves
For flowers and weed,
"What was his creed!'"
The poor nviy know.
He hal great faith in loaves of bread, ..
ForTiungry people, yonng and old
Aurt hope inspired kind words, he saiu
To ibose he sheltered from the cold.
For we must teed
As well as pray.
"What was his creed
I cannot say.
He pat lits trust in heaven and he
Worked wei with hand and heart and head
And what he gave in charity
Sweetened his sleep and daily bread
Let us take heed
For life is brief
"What was his creed
"What his beliet
THE COMING WIFE.
She's a little bit of a woman, all
patience and sunshine, and I'd spoil the
best silk hat that money could buy for
the privilege of lending her my umbrella
in the rain storm.
She's married and she's got an old
rhinoceros of a husband. makes it
a practice to come home tight at eleven
o'clock every other night, and has for
years, and he can't remember that she
ever gave him a cross word about it.
W he falls into the hall she is waiting
to close the door and help him. into the
sitting room, where a good fire awaits
him. She draws off nis boots, unbuttons
his collar, helps him off with his coat and
all the time she is saying:
"Poor Henry Ho sorry I am that
had tliis attack of vertigo! I am
afraid that you will be found dead by the
roadside some night."
'•Wbazzer mean by verzigho!" he
growls but she helps him off with his
Vest, and pleasantly continues
"I'm so glad you got home all right. I
hope the day will come when you can
pass more ol your time at home. I is
dreadful how your business drives
*'Whaz bizshness—whaz ye talking
'bout? he replies.
"Poor one how hot your head is
she continues, and presently he breaks
down and weeps and exclaims:
"Yes sur—sic's a "orse—wearing zelf
out ihast' can—wishzi was dead!
N morning she never refers to the
subject, but pleasantly inquires how he
slept, and if his mind is clear. Hi boots
a be missing and he yells
"Whar'n thunder's my boots
"Right here, my dear," she replies,
and she hands them out, all nicely black
If she wants a dress, or a hat, or a
cloak, and he yells out that household
expenses are eating him up, she never
"sashes" him back, nor tells him that she
could have married a congressman, nor
declares that she will write to her
mother and tell her just how it is
"That's so my dear—times are hard,*'
she says, and she gets up just as good a
dinner as if he had left her fifty dollars.
He may come home tight at supper
time, but she is not shocked. Sh re
marks that it is an unexpected pleasure
to have him home so early, and she pre
tends not to notice his stupid look.
sees three chairs where there is but one,
and in trying to sit down he strikes the
floor'like the fall of a derrick.
"Whazzer jaw zhat chair'wa
he yells, and she replies
"It's thai hole in the carpet—I knew
you would stumble and she helps him
up and brings him a strong cup of tea.
They do not keep a servant, and when
cold weather came, she never thought of
planking herself down in a chair opposite
him and saying:
"Now, then, you'll either get up and
light the fires or there won't be any
lighted—mark that old baldhead!"
No, she don't resort to any such base
and tyrannical measures. When day
light comes she slips out of bed, makes
two fires, warms his socks, and then
bending over him, she whispers:
"Arme, darling, and greet the festive
He is sick sometimes, and I've known
that woman to coax him for two straight
hours to take doctor's medicine, turn
over his pillow twenty-two times, keep a
wet cloth on his head, pare his corn
down, and then wish she had a quail to
make him some soup. W he gets in
to a fight down town and comes home
with his ears bitten up and his nose point
ing to the northeast, she inquires how
the horse happened to run away with
him. and she says she is so thankful that
he wasn't killed. She has an excuse for
anything and she never admits that any
one but herself is to blime about any
thing. Lor' bless her—I hope she'll slip
into heaven and never be asked a ques
THE PANDORA'S VOYAGE
In addition to the account already pub
lished of what had been accomplished by
the Pandpra's voyage to Melville Bay
the New York Herald'* correspondent
has transmitted a supplementary dis
patch, saying that the government ships,
the Alert and Discovery, under the com
mand of Capt. Nares, had crossed Mel
ville Bay on the 27th of July and pro
ceeded northward. According to the
letter which Capt. Nares left on Carey's
Island, and which the Pandora brought
to Portsmouth, the government ships
reached the island on the 17th of July,
having left Upernavik on the 22d of
and Cape Y^rk on the 25th. After
a short delay at Carey's Island they pro
ceeded again on their way up Smith's
Sound. The weather was unusually fa
vorable, the sea being open, and the ex
pedition met with no impediments of a
serious nLture. Capt. Nares states that
all hands on board are in good health
and spirits, and he anticipates a favora
ble result to the voyage.
A CHPLAIN SAVED BY HIS HEROld
A the Methodist preachers' meeting,
at the Methodist book concern yesterday
morning, Rev Dr Fisher, of the Pitts
burg conference, Was introduced as "the
man who was wonderfully saved during
Quantrell's raid by the hiroism of'his
wife." Methodist preachers always have
time to relate or hear *an experience,"
and such an introduction, of course, set a
dozen or more of them calling for the
story, which the doctor reluctantly con
sented to tell.
After some preliminary remark, Dr.
Fisher Began the story. said: "I
was always an anti-slavery man of the
most 'anti' kind, and after I moved to
Kansas, without any prominence having
been given to my sentiments by my
self. 1 found myself the object of the
most vindictive hatred «f the pro-slavery
party of the region where I resided.
file was unsuccessfully sought several
times. Most of the male members of my
church went to the war, and I went as
one of Ji Lane's chaplains.
The news of my connection with the
army, and of my being put is charge of
contrabands who were sent to Kansas, got
abroad, and the rebels hated
than ever. They got my photograph
and distributed it througout the country,
and it was fixed among them that I was
to be shot whenever met. Once when I
was sent up the river with a body of
contrabands, not being well, I went home
for a little rest. 1 was living at Law
rence. Th town had a few guns in the
armory, and there was an understanding
with the farmers of the surrounding
country that upon the ringing of an
alarm, they should come in and defend
the town, but the coming of Quantrell
and Jbis men was a complete surprise.
When the alarm was rung the arsenal
was already captured and on fire. I was
in bed, and beard, about 3 o'clock in the
morning, horses galloping away, and
woke my wife, telling her that it was
singular that horses should be galloping
so fast so early in the morning but she
said she guessed it was some farmers
who had been in to a railroad meeting
the evening before, and were hurrying
back to their work. W lay and talked
for some time. Th children were going
out that morning to get some grapes, and
my wife thought .-he would call them
earlier than usual, and herein, brethren,
I see the hand of Providence. It was not
yet daylight, but day was dawning. Hav
ed called the children, she went and look
ed out of the front door, and instantly
Pa, the rebels are in town.'
I said that could not^be but,neverthele!s
I sprang from the bed and ran to the
"There they were just across the green,
and just then they shot the United
Brethren preacher, ash was milking his
cow in the barn-yard. I rushed back in
to the house my wife caught up her
babe I have four one was on my
wife's breast, another was by her side,
and the two oldest were twelve or four
teen years old. W all rushed up the lot
in which our house stood. Then I left
my wife, and with the two oldest boys
ran up the hill but something seemed to
tell me that I was running away from
safety. So I told the boys to run on, and
I would go back to mother. I was then
in the gray light of morning, and the reb
els had divided into little squads and
were ransacking the town, killing every
man they found, and burning houses.
My boys separated, the oldest getting
with a neighbor's boy, Robert Winston,
and while the two were running for life,
the soldiers saw them and fired a volley,
killing poor Bobby and frightening my
boy almost to death. ran in and hid
among some graves in the grave-yard.
My youager son ran off on the prairie.
"In fixing my cellar I had thrown up a
bank of earth near the entrance, and I
crept down there and laid myself between
the mounds of earth and the'wall, in such
a way that the earth would partially
screen me. I lay up close to the kitchen
floor. I had not been there long when
four of Quantrell's men rode up to the
house and demanded admittance.
wife went to the front door and let them
in. They demanded whether I was not
in the house or in the cellar. She re
plied 'My husband and two older boys
ran off as soon as the fighting begun.'
The leader swore that he knew I was in
the cellar. My wife replied that she had
two young children by her, and that she
did not want any more oaths uttered be
fore them. 'You have doubted my word,'
she replied you can look for yourselves.'
I lay so near the floor that I could hear
every word that was said. Th men
called for a candle.
"M wife replied that we did not
candles. Then they wanted a lantern,
but she said we had't any. They asked
then, with an oath, what we did for a
light. She replied that we burned ker
osene in a lamp. Then they called for a
lamp, and my wife had to get it, but the
men in their eagerness to light it, turned
the wick down into the oil. Failing to
light it themselves, they called on my
wife to light it.
'Wh you've ruined the lamp,' saik
she 'it can't be lighted with the wicd
down in the oil.'
•"Haven't another lamp? said
'Yes, there's one up stairs,' said she,
and they then ordered her to go and get it.
'Gentlemen,' said sh,e, 'I can't do it
Your rudeness has so frightened me that
I can scarcely hold my babe.'
"One of the men then offered to hold
it for her, and took it from
her arms. poor wife then
went and got the lamp, which they light
ed and started on their search. They all
ocked their revolvers and passed the
word to kill at sight, and started for ,the
cellar. I laid myself as flat as I could
be, and turned my face toward the wall,
for I knew my face was thinnest from ear
to ear. he light came to the door.
I tell you, brethren, Ijus quit living.
You have heard it said that when & man
is drowning all his past life comes up be
The speaker's voice trembled his eyos
became suffused, and his whole frame
shook with suppressed emotion ash
continued: "I stood then before the
judgement seat. I was a dead man
heart ceased to beat. I already stood be
fore the Judge. Brethren, what could I
do, but trust myself to the Lord.
he man who carried the light was
tall, and providentially stooprd so low in
entering the cellar, that the light shin
ing against the bank of earth, threw a
shadow over me They searched the cel
lar, but did not find me, and went back
up-stairs. wife afterward told me
that when the men went down the cellar,
she took her babe and went into the par
lor, and stood there holding her hand
against one ear, and her babe against the
other, expecting every moment to hear
the report of the revolvers in the cellar,
announcing the death of her husband.
"The soldiers set fire to the house in
several places, and leaving one of their
number to prevent the wife from putting
it out, departed. Th man seemed to be
touched with pity, aud told her if she
wanted to save some furniture he would
help her wife thinks that holding
the baby in his arms had touched his
heart. Sh pleaded with him that if he
had any consideration for her or her
helpless children, to leave the house and
let her put out the fire. He consented
"My wife then came to me and ask
ed ine was all right between me and God.
'I am afraid they will come back and kill
you yet, and it will be the greatest com
fort to kuow that you felt prepared to di£.
I told her I felt prepared to die.
"Telling me to pray she left me. It
was not lone before another party of
Quantrell's men came, and in drunken
tones—for the marauders had become in
toxicated by this time—demanded wheth
er I was in the house.
'Do you suppose,' said my wife confi
dently 'that he would stay here, and you
shooting and burning all over the town.
N he left this morning as soon as the
firing commenced, and unless some of
you have shot and killed him outside, he
is safe. Some of your men were here
this morning and searched the house.
However you may look for yourselves.'
"In this she bluffed them. They set
fire to the house, and left one, who drew
his revolver on my wife, and said he
would kill her if she tried to put it out.
He stayed till the house was so far con
sumed that there was no possible chance
of saving it. wife pulled up a car
pet, and, taking it to the yard, drop
ped it accidently by the door.
"My wife was afiaid, and so was I. that
I would be burned alive, for I had no
thought of doing anything but what my
wife told me Th floor was on fire al
most over me, and the flames were creep
ing nearer. wife stood and threw
water, pail after pail, on the floor, and
was doing this when a neighbor, a Cath
olic woman, came and said 'Why Mrs.
Fisher, what are you doing W at good
it will be to save that floor Besides
you can't save it.'
'I don't care what good it will do,*
replied my wife, 'I am going to keep on
wetting that floor.'
"But finally, when she saw she could
not save it, she asked the neighbor
whether she could keep a secret. Sh
then swore by the Virgin Mary never te
'Well, then,' said my wife, 'my hus
band is under that floor.'
he soldiers were still everywhere
shooting and burning, and the air was
filled with the shrieks of wounded and
dying men, the wailing of widows and or
phans, and the sound of falling buildings.
My wife then called me to come out and
threw a dress over my shoulder. he
two women picked up the carpet, and I
crawled under it between them, a so
we three proceeded to a small bash about
four feet nigh out in the yard.
"There my wife saw four soldiers ready
to fire. They were not a hundred yards
off. Then, for the first time, the poor
woman dispaired. A pang then shot to
her heart, and ehe gave up all for lost.
Nevertheless, I slunk under the bush, and
tbey threw the carpet over me.
"Save the chairs!' cried my wife and
they rushed to where the chairs were
piled, close to the burning building, and
ran with them and flung them carelessly
upon me. and piled up all that was sa
of our household ^oods about me. Th
soldiers thought the pile only a lot
of household furniture, and left it unmo
"I staid there till two hours after they
left, and then gathered my wife and four
children—for the two boys had come
back—and in the garden we knelt and
thanked God for deliverance. Brethren,
vou don't know what it is to be thank
A few days ago butcher Robinson's
large Newfoundland dog cooled himself
in a canal, and after swimming far away
from his point of enterance, he tried to
get out where the wall was up high from
the water. made many ineffectual
attempts to do it but failed. Gov.
Smyth's shepard dog saw his difficulty,
ran about to get assistance, but none
coming, when the big water dog put up
his paws to make one more effort to get
out, the knowing Scotch colly grabbed
him by the neck as one grabs a brother
by the hand to help him out or over a
difficult place, and he was landed high,
if not dry, much to the joy of both.
"The fair who begs for God begs for
two," says a Spanish proverb. Give
him cold potato and let him go A fair
ought to do something with that.
ROMANCE IN REAL LIFE.
[From the Cincinnati Commercial.]
A evening paper of this city publishes
a romantic story of the loss of a little
child at the capture and pillage of Cor
inth, Mississippi, by the Union forces in
the late war, and of his restoration to his
family after thirteen years had passed
and the little boy had grown to be a man.
In the flight of the inhabitants from the
burning town, most of the people hurried
down the railroad track leading from the
southern part of the place, and took ref
uge in the woods and fields along the
route. Soon the streets were deserted by
all except this little boy who became
separated from his friends, and stricken
with terror ran hithei and thither in his
bewilderment, and at last hid himself in a
freight car which had escaped the
general conflagration. Amon the Union
soldiers who soon poured into the city
was Captain (afterward General) Hicken
looper, of the Fifth Ohio Battery, who
discovered the boy and took him back to
camp, where by his youthful intelligence
he became a great favorite. Th bdy
stated that his name'wa Frank Foster,
and that his father and brother were in
the rebel army, his brother being an aid
to Gen. Beauregard but as all search
for them had failed, it was believed that
they weregdead. Th General, out
pity, adopted the boy, aud in" August
1862, sent him to Cincinnati, where he
was taken charge of by the General's
father and mother. was sent to
school, and afterwards served an appren
ticeship in the Surveyor office under his
patron, the General, becoming at length
a good civil engineer. During all these
twelve or thirteen years he never ceased,
when an opportunity offered, of making
dilligent inquiry with regard to his pa
rents and family, but in vain all he re
membered was his father's and mother's
name and with only this to guide him,
it seemed a hopeless task.
He wrote repeatedly to his old home,
but the letters were all returned, no onenice
having called for them. inserted
from time to time advertisements in the
Memphis and other Southern papers, but
they brought no response and, from the
day that he was first taken to the Union
camp, nearly fourteen years ago wrapped
in an old army blouse that reached to his
ankles, until Saturday of last week did
never he hear one syllable with regard to
father, mother or friends.
One evening, a a or two ago, joun
Foster, in company with friends, visited a
theater in this city, and while all were
affected with merriment b^t the perform
ance of a particular comedian, Foster was
silent and serious, and being afterwards
asked the cauoc, answered, "that man
looked so much like my mother that it
starts me to thinking."
Again one night last week young Fos
ter visited the same theatre, and 10 his
astonishment the same comedian appear
ed on the stag*.. This time it made such
an impression on Foster's mind that he
could not sleep. On Saturday morning
of last week two interested friends visited
the theatre, and found the comedian al
luded to at rehearsal. They questioned
him closely the names of both father
and mother corresponded exactly, but he
had no brother. Hi only brother.
Frank, was lost, he said, when a child, on
the battle field of Corinth, and all search
for him for thirteen years had proved un
availing, and he had finally been given up
as dead. Th history of the family
was then related in detail as to how,
after the siege and burning of the
town, they had returned to the old town
in Dunkirk, Ne York, finally moving to
Cleveland, where they have remained
ever since the father's death the now
heart-broken old mother the struggles
of the only surviving son to earn a living'
for his mother and sisters, and his final
debut and success on the stage the una
vailing search for the lost brother the
advertisements in papers in eastern and
southern cities the journeys, many of
them on foot, to distant places of the
distracted mother, still searching for her
The brothers, as soon as they were sat
isfied between themselves that they were
brothers, dispatched a message of good
news to their mother in Cleveland, and
followed the message in person together.
he ad Hcroe a he N a a
The report of the officer in charge of
the National cemeteries will be sent to
Congress with the message and docu
ments. I will be a very interesting pa
per, and will give the condition of the
various cemeteries, now numbering be
tween 75 and 80, in the country. A cor
rect statement of the number of inter
ments in these cemeteries has never be
fore been male, and there has always
been a doubt as to the number. It i«
now ascertained to be something ovor
300,000, and is divided between the known
and unknown about equally. In March,
1873, Congress appropriated a million
dollars for the purpose of erecting mar
ble head-stones over the graves of the
known soldiers. Th work of setting
these stones goes on rapidly, and will be
entirely finished within a year. Twenty
five cemeteries have been already provid
ed. Th granite monument ordered by
Congress at a cost of 810,000, to be erect
ed to the memorv of 11,700 unknown
dead at Salisbury, N has been finish
ed, and will be set in a short time. I is
an obelisk, abeut 4 0 feet high, including
the base. A wreath surmounts the top,
and on the face, inclosed in a circle de
noting immortality, are the words, "Pro
Patria." Beneath, in raised characters
upon a draped pall, are the figures 11,
700, denoting the number of unknown
soldiers buried there.
Hon. T. Qehring, the local representative
in the general assembly, and editor of the
Free Press, (German,) of Springfield, Illinois,
has been indicted by the grand jury tor libel
in publishing an article reflecting on the coun
ty treasurer and the city editor of the State
FARM AND HOU^BIJOLD.- .:
TO STOP BLEEDING AT THE NOSE.
It is worth while to know how to stop
the bleeding from the nose when it be
comes excessive. If the finger is pressed
firmly upon the little artery that sup
plies the blood to the side of the face affect
ted, the result is accomplished. The two
small arteries on each side of the neck,
and passing over the outside of the jaw
bone, supply the face with blood. II the
nose bleeds from the right nostril, for ex
ample, pass the finger along the edge of
the right jaw till the beating of the arte
ry is felt. Press hard upon it, and the
bleeding will cease. Continue the pres«
sure five minuets, until the ruptured ves
sels in the nose have time to contract.
FIRES AND WARMER CLOTHING.
The glorious autumn weather has come
again-how delightful, how invigorating!
And yet the cool, beautiful days will
carry to many a door a hearse which
might be kept away. And why! Merely
for the want of a little fire mornings and
evenings, and an increased warmth of
clothing. Do not postpone undergar
ments for yourselvs, and especially do
not postpone putting them on the chil
dren. Otherwise dynsinteiy, or typhoid
fever—that terrible desease—or illness in
some other form, may enter your dwell
ing and bear off some loved immate.
Warm clothing timely fires warm hearts
cheerfulness health and happiness these
all belong together in our autumn. Ex.
GOOD GRAHAM CRACKERS
Th Laws of Life gives the following in
reply to an inquiry for a recipe foi Gra
ham crackers:-We answer with pleasure,
and for the purpose have interviewed the
cook who makes "the sweetest ones that
ever was. Have some soft water, either
cold or tepid, in a mixing di^h, and sift
meal slowly through the fingers into
the water, stirring it until too stiff to
manage with a spoon: then mold the
dough on a board with the hands until
it is about as stiff as for common biscuit
Roll it with a rolling pin about three
fourths of an inch thick, cut with a
round cookie cutter a-id lay on a baking
tin, not greased but ducted with flour, «o
the cakes will not touch each other.
Bake about 30 minutes in pretty .hot
o\ en, making them sh%rp and crusty or
tender as preferred. Take them from the
oven into a pan or bowl and lay a napkin
over them to st^amawile, then lay them
in neat little piles on plates for the table.
They are excellent and more popular in
our private family than any other foi in
TO KEEP MILK FROM CURDLING.
Prof. Kolbe has demonstrated that, by
the addition of four per cent, of salicihc
acid, to fresh cows' milk making 65 de
grees of heat, the milk will be pie&erve<l
36 hours longer fiom cuidling than un.k
not treated by acid This quantity of
acid is sufficient when the milk h.ia to bo
transported to a distance but pending
pernd of greet heat, it would be as
in the ordinary practice with extensi\e
dairymen in France, to reduce the temp
erature of the milk to 53 dtgiees before
employing the acid, which requires to be
dissolved in cold water to the extent of
ten per cent, of the milk —a dilution
purchasers would not tolerate. It dis
solves more reidily in warm water in
this state, however, it would coagulate
the milk. Th acid as generally sold is
in the form of a powder, difficult to moist
en and apt to run together, forming lit
tle lumps, despite the stirring of the milk.
The best state in which to apply the ac
in in the form of crystals, taking care
that these are not too large.
A in in Wihconfciii.
About a week ago Sheriff Baker of
Portage county, Wis., was killed by two
brothers named Amos and Isaiah Court
wright, whom he attempted to eject from
a building, the ownership of which was
dispute. Tuesday morning, the 19th,Wornis,
about three o'clock, a party of masked
men, numbering forty, went to the jail at
Stevens' Point, seized the watch and put
him in irons, beat down the outside door,
took out the Oourtwiights and hung
them to a tree overhanging the road.
The whole affair was quickly and sy«te
matically executed. There is no evi
dence ot identity of the perpetrator^
but it is understood they came from the
town of Plover.
Most of our readers, at different times,
are in the want of some books which ai
not to be obtained in this place, and for
want of a good name to address, conclude
to do without it. To all such we spy that
T. S. White & Co., the most energetic
and enterprising book and stationery
dealers in St. Paul, corner of Third aud
Minnesota streets, carry a splendid as
sortment of the best leading matter, and
will forward to any address, any books
desired—sending to publishers (or those
not on hand—upon receipt of price. All
information in regard to books cheerfully
given. Correspondence solicited from
Sunday school superintendents, teachers,
and all others in want of miscellaneous
Sundav school, and common school
books." They also carry a large and well
selected stock of stationery which they
are jobbing at the lowest prices. Mail
orders from country dealers will receive
special and prompt attention.
A W I S
LOU I S
Built and equipped.!? and equipped
by ROBINSON &. A
St. Paul, Minnesota.
WHOLESALE kW RETAIL.
Eats, Caps, and Gents' Furnishing Goods,
Ladies' and Children's Furs. Lower than the
he E a if I a
of to a he a
he a of he a a
a a a in forfeiture is a
iv a is I a for a
a id Agent*, an
it it an a pan jr. A
dre»s ItlcDONALIt, JTIanacer, S
a Oct. 13.
J. J. Brooks. C. A. Morton! A. Wharton.
O O S & O
1T5 a 177 W St. a
COMMISSION MERCHANTS. Dealers in
all kinds of Country Produce. Northwestern
Agents for "Jackson (Michigan) WagOLS.**
Consignments from Merchants and Farmers so
licited. Refer by permission to Horace Thomp
son, President First National Bank Merchants
National Bank Farmers and Mechanics Bank
Culver & rrington. Liberal advances upon
he a First-Clas S
S in a in S
he it States
It Costs Nothing to Try the
as we $ ay all the expense if not accepted.
Send for our descriptive circulars aud late
First-Clash A W a E
AfMres?, JOHNSOX. A A: CC.«
141 Mat St a 111*
8j|F*Piease oblige by stating wlerp you suvr
this advertisement 204-243e-o.w.
A. MOO HE,
3ft a on St.
nder tli«a Merchants
ep a fine a*oituient of Ladies',
Children's., and Geutlemen's Kui, Buffalo
Co.ttt and Robes. Remaning nealy done. 218.
O ce selected wheat
lands, in twenty best
wheat coutitifs in ?Tlmne*r»ta, foi salt*. Low
pi (»i.»nd longtime, r-end lot ll.*t«
GEO. Vi I Minneapo N, Minn.
the sale and purchase
Skins, Huies, Wool,
Whole-..V iealer in
Stfel Traps Agent lor
der Co. No 55 Jaek-
I Merchant for)
II izzarct Pow!
[«0"i street, St
Paa1. S iid »'r cir
Prof. E. J. Stockton.
Successfully treats all diseases jf tu**
A I S A A N A E
Beautify your Coinplection. Preserve yout
Hair. Freckles, Tan, Moth Patches, Black
and other eruptions of the Face cured.
Send for circular
Merchant's Hotel, St.
W a in ^tork
MENS' HEAVY ALL WOO
CHINCH ILKA OVERCOATS at
Bors Oveicoats Irom
$2.00 TO $18.00.
ITlenh' a B»y.' W in Suit
at E a Privet..
All orders promptly and satisfactorily
O S O N
«*0NE PRICE" CLOTHING HOUSE
4 3 E A S I S E E
St. a TCinne&ota.
P. R, Hardenberg,
78 East Third street,
St. Paul, Minnesota,
by mail promptly
A E S O E
7 4, a on Street, St. a
P. C. A. oct18-25
d» Si Oil P«rday athome. Terms Free. Address
$ 0 ipL\i O. STINSON Co., Portland, it