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VM' i' fev'? $*' ml I 1 o" ®fe i»i JJS $'?.'• ci.?,' TH3 SILVER LINING. There's never a day so 6Uniiv But a little cloud appears: There's never a life so happy But has had ita time of tears: Yet the fiun slants out the brighter When the stormy tempest clears. Thorc'y never a garden growing With roses in every plot There's never heart so hardened But it has one tentier spot: We have only to prune the border To find the lofpet-me-noi. There's never a cup so pleasant Bur has bitter with the sweet There's never a nath =o rugged That, bears not the prints of feet And we have a helper promised For the triiils we may meet. There'never a sun that rises But we know 'twill .set av night 'J'he tints thai g-leam in ihu morning- At evening are just: as blight And the hour that is the sweetest Is betwei the dark and lig-ht- There'• never a dream that's happv Bui the waking1 makes ns sad There's never a dream of sorrow Bui. the waking- makes us jrlu'.l We shall look some day wifh wonder At the troubles we have had. There's never a way .*o narrow Hut the entrance i- To a so'.il that's desolate. There's never ft heart so haughty Uvif. will some day bow and kneel There's neverheart so wounded That the Sa«iur cannot heal There's many a lowly forehead That )3 bearinc Uv- hidden seal. sighed, communication made straight There'H always a guide to point us To the "lit' le wicket jrfite .And the angels will be nearer 5 Riches Fail to Impart Happiness-- Reality. View of the Hard 'What has become of the Wight uians?' asked my old friend Pay son. I had returned to my native place af ter an absence of several years. Pay son looked grave. 'Nothing wrong- with them, I h#pe Wi.ghtmt.ui was a clever man, and he had a pleasant family.* My friend shook his head ominously. "He was doing very well when left," said X. '•All broken up now,' was. answered. •He failed several years ago,: Ah! I'm sorry to hear tins. What has become of him?' see him now aod then, but I don't know what he is doing.' •And las family?' •They live somewhere in Old Towu. I haven't met any of them for a long time. Some .one told roe that they were very poor. This intelligence caused a feeling of sadness to pervade my mind. The tone and maim .-ir of Payson as used he the words 'very poor'' gave to them a more than ordinary meaning. I SSAV, ia my imagination, my old friend reduced, from comfort and respectability to a condition of extreme poverty, with all its sufferings and humiliations. While my tuindjwas occupied with these un pleasant thoughts, my friend said: You must dine with me to-morrow. Mrs. Payson will be glad to see yon, and I want to have a long talk about old times. Ws dine at three.5 I promised to be with them, in a ree ment with the invitation, and then we parted. It was during business hours, fusd as my friend's manner waw some what occupied and hurried, I did not think it right to trespass on his time. What I had learned of the Wightmans troubled my thoughts. I could not get' them out of my ramd. They were esti mable people, I hud prized them above ordinary acquaintances, and it did seem peculiarly hard that they should have suffered misfortune. 'Very poor' —1. could cot get the words out of my ears. The way in which they were spoken involved more than the words themselves expressed, or rather gave a broad latitude to their meaning.' 'Very poor! Ah mei' The sigh was deep and involuntary. I inquired of several old acquaint ances whom I met during the dav for Wightmans, but all the satisfaction I eeived was, Wightman had failed in business several years before and was now living somewhere in Old Town in a very poor way. 'They are miserly poor,' said on'I see Wightman occa sionally,' said auother— 'lie looks seedy enough.' 'His girls take in sewing, I have heard.'said a third, who spoke with a slight air of contempt, as if there was something disgraceful at tached to needle work when pursued as a means of livelihood. I would have called during the day upon Wightman but failed to ascertain his. place of resi dence. •Glad to s^e your Payson extended his hand with a show oe cordiality as I entered his store between two and three o'clock on the next day. 4 Sit down and look over the papers for a little while,' he added. Til fce with you in a mom ent- Just finishing up my bank busi ness.'- Business first,' was my answer, as I took the proffered newspaper. 'Stand upon ho ceremony with me'.' As Payson turned parti* from me and bent his he&d to the desk at which tie was sitting, I cvald not but remark tbe suddenness with which the smile my -'psearajice had awakened faded from lVc4wpt^iance. Before'him lWy a:p|Je ^hjij^aeVeral checks, a^d quite$ LJ qtaefcBrij ml I. hate the work! But come they'll be waiting dinner for us. Mrs. Payson is delighted at the tbougtof seeing you. How long is it since you were here? About ten years, if I am not mistaken. You'll find my daughters quite grown up. Clara is in her twentieth year, You, of course recoliet her only as a little school-girl. Ah mei how time does fly!' I found my friend living in a hand some house in Franklin street. It was showily—not tastefully—furnished, and the same might be said of his wife and daughters, When I last dined with them it was many years before—they wer« living iu a modest but very com fortable way, and the whole air of their dwelling was that of cheerfulness and comfort. Now, though their ample parlors were gay with rich brussels, crimson damask, and brobatelle, there was no genuine home leeling there. Mrs. Payson, the last time I saw hei, wore a mousseline oe laiue, ot sub dued colors, a neat lace collar around her neck, fastened with a diamond pin the marriage gift of her father. Her hair, which curled naturally, was drawn behind her ears in a few gracefully fall ing ringlets. She needed no other or nament. Anything beyond would have taken from the chiefest of tier attrac tions, her bright, animated counten ance, in which her friends ever read a hearty welcome. How changed from this was the ather "stately woman, whose real pleasure at seeing an old friend was hardly warm enough to melt through the ice cf an imposec1 formality, flow changed from this the pale, cold, worn face, where selfishness and a false pride had been doing a sad, sad work. Ah! the rich Honiton lace cap aud costly cape the profusion of gay ribbons and the glitter of jewelry the ample folds of glossy satin how poor a compensation were •hey 3i the true woman I bad parted with years ago, and now sought beneath these showy adornments in vain! Two grown up daughters, dressed al most as flauntiugly as their mother, were now presented. In the artificial countenance of the oldest, I failed to as the dinner had been waiting us, and was now served, we proceedeed to the dining room. did not feel honored by the really sumptuous meal the Paysons had provided for their old friend, be cause it was clearly to be seen that uo honor was intended. The honor was ail foi themselves. The ladies had not adoroed their person nor provided their dinner to give me welcome and pleas ure, but to exhibit to the eye of their guest their wealth, luxury and social importance. If I bad failed to perceive this, the conversation of the Paysons would have made it plain, for it was of stvle and elegance iu housekeeping and dress—of the ornamental in all its va rieties 'and in no case of the truly do mestic and useful. Once or twice I re ferred 10 the-Wightmans, but the ladies knew nothing of them, and seemed al most to have forgotten .that such per sons ever lived. It did not take me long to discover that, with ali the luxury by which my1 iriends were surrounded, they were far from being happy. Mrs. Payson and her daughters had I could see, become envious as well as proud. They wanted a larger house and more costly furni ture in order to make as imposing an appearance as some others whom they did not consider half as good as them selves. To all they said ou this subject, I noticed that Payson himself main tained, for the most part, a half moody silence. It was clearly enough, un pleasant to him. 'My wife and daughters think I'm made of money.' said onc», half laughing.' vBnt and then looked anxiously to-1 the meaning of the term,' said wardc the door- At this moment a} Payson,,^ with some teelmg. clerk entered hastilv, and made some)'And K-io to Wilson,' said he, hurriedly,' 'and tell him to send' me a check for live hundred without fail. Say that I am so short in my bank payments and that it is now to late to get the money anywhere else. Don't linger a moment it is twenty -five minutes to three now.' The clerk departed. He was gone full ten minutes, during which period Payson remained at. his desk, silent, but showing many signs of uneasiness. On returning he brought the desired ,j check, and was then dispatched to lift the notes for which this late provision was made. 'What a life for a man to lead,' said my friend with a contracted brow and a sober face. 'I sometimes wish my self on an island in mid-ocean. You remember 'Very well.' 'He quit business a year ago and bought a farm. 1 saw him the other day. 'Payson'said he, with an air of satisfaction, 'I haven't seen a bank notictj this twelve months.' He's a happy man! This note-paying is the curse of my life. I'm forever on the s'reel financiering— financiering! How af-m discover any trace of my former friend briefly, and then said: Clara. "lam so sorry to hear that it is not A little while we talked formally, and f?o well with you in worldly matters as with some constraint all aiound then, when I left the city." if they knew how hard it was to get hold of, sometimes, they would be less free in spending. I tell tbem I am a poor mat^ comparatively speaking, bat, I might as well talk to the wind.* 'Just as well/ replied his wife, foi cin£ an incredulous laugh kwhy will you use jleto he who lives beyond his income, in an undertone, which as a good many of our acquaintances brought from my friend a disappointed I do to my certain "knowledge, is poorer and impatient evpression. 'Now, dou't get to riding that hobby, Mr, Payson,' broke in my friend's wife, deprecatmgly, 'don'tif you please, In the first place, it's hardly polite, and in the second place, it is by no means agreeable. Don't mind him'—and the lady turning to rue gayly—'he gets in these moods sometimes.' I was not in the least surprised to hear this after what 1 had witnessed, both in Ms store and in his house. Put the two scenes and circumstances together, and how could it well be otherwise. My friend thus reacted upon, ven tured no further remark upon a sub ject that was 30 disagreeable to his family. But while they talked of style aud fashion, he sat silent, and, to my mind, oppressed with no very pleasant thoughts. After the ladies had retired, he said with considerable feeling 'All this looks and sounds very well, perhaps, but there are two aspects to almost everything. My wife and daughter.! get one view of life aud I auother. They see the romance and I the hard reality. It is impossible for me to get money as fast to they wish to spend it. It was my fault in the be gining, suppose. Ah! how difficult it is to correct an error when once made, I tell them that I am a poor man, but they smile in my face, and ask me for a hundred dollars to shop with in the next breath. I remonstrate, but it avails not,, for they don't credit what I say. 'And I am poor—poorer, I sometimes think, than the humblest of my clerks, who manages, out of his salary of four hundred a year, to lay up fifty dollars He is never in want of a dollar, while I go searching about, anxious and troubled for my thousands daily. He and his patient, cheerful, industrious little wife find peace and contentment in the single room their limited means enables them to procure, while my family turn dissatisfied from the costly adornments of our swacious home, and sigh for richer furniture, and a larger and more snowy mansion. If I were a millionaire, their ambition might be satisfied. Now, their ample wishes may not be filled. I must deny them or meet inevitable ruin. As it is, am living far beyond a prudent lipit—not half so far, however, as many around me, whose fatal example is ever tempt ing the weak ambition of their neigh bor,'!.' This, and much more of similar im port, was said by Payson. When I turned from his elegant home there was no envy in my heart. He was called a rich and prosperous man by all whom I heard speak of him, but in my eyes he was very poor. A day or two afterwards 1 saw Wightman in the street. He was so changed in appearance that I should hardly have known him had he not first spoken. He looked, my eyes, twenty years older than when last we met. His clothes were poor, though scrupulously clean, and on observing him more closely I perceived an air of neatness and order that indicates nothing of that disregard about external appear ance which so often accompanies poverty. He grasped my hand, cordially, and inquired with a genuine interest after my health and welfare. I answered A slight shadow Bitted over his coun tenance, but it quickly grew cheerful again. '•One of the secrets of happiness in this life," said he, "is contentment with our lot. We raiely learn this in prosperity. It is uot one of the lessons taught in that school,'' 'And you have learned it?" said lI have been trying to learn it,' he answered, smiling. 'But. I find it one of the most difficult of lessons. I do not hope to acquire it perfectly.'1 A cordial invitation to visit his family and take tea with them fol lowed, aud was accepted. I must own that I prepared to go to the Wightmans with some misgivings as to the oleas nre I should receive, Almost every one of their old acquaintances to whom I had addressed inquiries on the sub ject, spoke of them with commissera tion as "very poor,'- If Wightman could bear tbe change of philosophy, I hardly expected to find the same Chris tian resignation in his wife, whom I remembered as a gay, lively woman, fond of social pleasures. Such were my thoughts when 1 knocked at the door of a small house thai stood a little back from the street. It was quickly opened by a tail, neatly dressed girl, whose pleasant face was lighted into a so-ile of welcome as she pronounced my name. 'This is not Mary?' I sVrid, as I took her proffered hand. \Yes, this is your little Mary," she answered. 'Father told me you were coming' Mrs. Wightman came forward as I entered tbe roam into which the front door opened, and gave me a most onr dial welcome. Least of all had time and reverses changed her Though a little subdued and rather paler and thinner, her face had the old heart warmth 'in it—the eyes were bright fypn the same cheerful spirit.!^/. a 'How» trladfil m, to see ^youj again f*. glad. Every play ot feature, every modulation of tone showed this. -.A Soon her husband came m. and then she excused herselfwith a smile, and went, as I very well understood, to see after tea. In a little while supper was ready and I sat down with the family in their small breakfast-room to one of the pleasuntest meals I have ever en joyed. A second daughter, who was learning a trade, came in just as we were taking our places at the table, and was introduced. What a beauti ful glow upon her young countenance. She was the very image of health and cheerfulness. When I met Wightman in the street I thought his countenance wore some thing of a troubled aspect—this was the first impression it made upon me. Nowf as I looked into his face and listened to his cheerful animated conversation, so full of life's true philosophy, I could but see an emotion of wonder. 'Very poor!' How little did old friends, who covered their neglect of this family with these commisserating words know of their state. How little did they dream that sweet., peace folded its winys in that humble dwelling nightly, aid t'.at morning brougnt to each a cheerful, resolute spirit which bore them bravely through ali their daily toil. 'How are you getting along, now, Wightman?' I asked, as, after bidding good evening to his pleasant family, I stood with him at the care opening from the street to his modest dwelling. 'Very well,' was his cheerful reply. '•It was up hill work for several years, when I received five hundred dollars salary as clerk, and all my children were young. But now two of tbem are earning something, and I receive eight hundred dollars instead of five We managed to save enough to buy this snug little house. The last pay ment was made a month since. I am beginning to feel rich." And he laughed a pleasant laugh. "Very poor," I said to myself, mus ingly, as I walked away from the hum ble abode of the Wightmans. "Very poor The words have had a wrong application.5' On the next day I met Payson. "I spent last evening with the Wight mans." said I. "Indeed! How did von find themV Very poor, of courseV" :I have not met a more cheerful family for years. No, Mr. Payson. they are not *very poor,' for they take what the great Father send*, and use it with thankfulness! Those who ever wan* more than they possess are the very poor. But such are not the Wight mans." Payson looked at me a moment or two curiously, and then let his eyes fall to the ground. A little while he mused. Light was breaking in upon him. "Contented and thankful," said he lifting his eyes from the ground. "Ah! my friend, if I and mine were only contented and thankful." "You have cause to be," I remarked. "The great Father hath covered your table with blessings." "Aral yet we ar« poor—very poor," said lie, "fur we sire neither contented nor thankful. Wea.sk for more than we possess, and cause it is not given we. are fretful aud impatient. Yes, yes—we, not the Wightmans, are puor —very poor." Aud with these words on his lips, my old friend turned from me and walked slowly away, his head bent, in musing attitude to ttye ground. Sot long after- wards E hear^ that he had failed. "Ah!" thought [, when this news reached me, "now you are poor, very poor, indeed!1' And it was so. The Elliott House, 118 and 120 South Third. 3treet. corner Chestnut, Still water, Minn., is one of the best $1.50 per day hotels in the frtate. James Elliott, its mauager, has always an eye to the interests of bis patrons. "Burliij^toi) l^oute THE pro/n tfye Jfortyu/est' PRINCIPAL LINE BETWEEN THi NORTHWEST ®NNECTIONS ^ADE 'Hi AND ALL POINTS IN UNITED STATES AND OANAD. IN ^stjpaul THE DEPOTS AT ALL BUSINESS RENTERS I HI 1 -L -I PEERLESS DINING CARS AND PULLMANS SLEEPERS ON ALL THROUGH TRAINS BETWEEN A^CHICAG0 SLLG UI ONLY LJNE RUNNING DININGCARS BETWEEN THE TWIN CITIES**° ST-LOUIC FOR TICKETS, RATES, GENERAL INFORMATION, ETC., CALL ON ANY TICKET AGENT IN THE UNITEO STATES OR CANAR OR ADDRE68 »3EO- B. HARRIS |IIi||w. KENYON|M .'G ENERAL ANAGER 0 E!- E Northern Pacific Railroad er Bank Route." along the shores of Lake Pepin fmd the beaui:iful Mississippi River to Milwaukee and Chicago. Its trains connect with those of the Northern lines in the Grand Union Depot at St. Paul. No Change of Cars of any Class be tween St. Paul and Chicago. For through tickets, time-tables, and full information, apply to any cou pon ticket agent in the Northwest. R. Miller, General Manager J. Tucker, Assistant General Maria ger A. V. H. Carpenter, General Passenger and Ticket Agent Geo. H. Heafford. Assistant General Pas senger and Ticket Agent, Mil wan kee, Wis. W. B. Dixon. Assistant General Passenger Agent, St. Paul, Minn. A FIHST-CLASS LINE IX EYEKY BB SPISCT SLEAVIN & 8RODERICK, Wholesale Fruit and genera! Commission 103 & I OS Second Street S: Minneaoolis, Minn. jfrSf3" liefer to any bank or wholesale house-in the city. THE—- NEW OVERLAND BOUT& TO Portland, Oregon, and the Pacific Northwest The "Pioneer Line" between St. Paul, Min neapolis, Moorhead and Fargo, and the ONLY line running Dining Cars and' Pullman sleep ers between those points. DEPARTING TKAINS. ARRIVING TRAINS. Leave Leave St. Paul. jMin'eapofe Pacific Express (Daily)... 4:00 ni| 4:35 Fargo Ex. (Daily ex. Sun) 8.15 AM 8:45 a HI Jamestown Ex. (Daily) *8:90 pm 8:85 Dining cans. Pullman sleepers, elegant day coaches, second-class coa« hes, and emigrant, sleeping- cars between St. Paul, Minneapolis, Fargo, Dak., and all points in Montana and Washington territories. Emigrants are carried out of St. Paul aud Minneapolis on Pacific Ex press, leaving daily al 4: p. Arrive St, Pat*. Arrive jMin' epulis 11:50 a Atlantic Express 'Daily)... St Paul and Minneapolis fast Expx-ess (Daily) 7.15 am St. Paul and Minneapolis: acc. (daily ex. Sunday).! 6:10 13:25p 7:06 6:46 *Do not run west oi Favgo on Sundays. City office, 8t. Paul, Kiti East Tnird street. City office, Minneapolis, No. Nicollet House. CHAS. S. FEE. General Passensrer and' Ticket A^ettt. Win A-LBEMT LEA jROUTE. Leave St. Paul. Leave Minne nolis. Chicago & St, Louis Ex. *B:45 a 121 *9:25 Des Moines Expresfi *3:45 a *9:26 a Chicago Past Ex 16:25 to d7:06 St. Louis Fiist. Exprees. *6:2o pm *7:05 tn Albert Le« Acc '3:15 in *4:00 Des Moines Passenger... *7:05 in Water towu and Dawson *8:00 a ro *8:45 a 31 Excelsior and Wiathrop 4:15 +4:50 tr. *Ex. Sunday. tEx, Saturday, d. Daily. tEx Monday. Ticket offices—Minneapolis, No I Washington Av. (under Nicollet house) and at depot corner Third street and Fourth avenue north St. Paul, No. 199 East Third street, corner Sibley, and at depot, Broadway, foot of Fourth au eet. Trains equipped with rough Day Pullm.'i" Sleeping and Palace Dining CaVs. The CHiCAGO MILWAUKEE & ST. PAUL R'Y Is the Fast-Mail Short Line from St. Paul and Minneapolis via La Crosse and Milwaukee to Chicago, and all points in the Eastern States and Canada. It is the only line under one management between St. Paul and Chicago, and is the Finest Equipped Railway i.i the North west. is the on fine running Pullman Drawing Room Sleeping Cars with Luxurious Smoking Rooms, and the Finest Dining Cars in the World, via the famous "Riv- ROYAL ROUTE CHICAGO. ST. PAUL, MmNE AJ'OLIS & OMAHA, AND CHICAGO & NOKTHWESTEI^N RV'S. makes a speoiaJiy of its £33LiHijSIPIi,TC3h, PARLOR suid DININC* car service, covering all the principal points of the .system. JSTO OTHER LINE CAN SHOW SUCH A RECORD.^ READ and BE CONVINCED BETWEEN ST- PAUL aMMINKEAPOLIS and EAU CLAIRE, MADISON, JANES VLLLE. aid CHICAGO. Two trains a day enfti way. with through sleep ers and dining cars. DULJTH, SuPEiiiou and ASHLAJS'D. IIHIUS each way with through sleepers. Morning trains each way with through parlor cars Sioux CITY, COUNCIL BLUFES and Omaha. Through sieepitig cars each way. PIERRE.—Sleeping car to Tracy. ST. JOSEPH. ATCHISON, LEAVENWORTH and KANSAS CITY. Through Pullman Bnfiyt sleepers. MANKATO, 1)ES MOINES, CHARITON, ST. JOSEPH, ATCHISON, LEAVEN WORTH and KANSAS CITY Through c'D»b nation chair and sleeping cars A HOT A MANKATO ST JAMES. WORTH INGTON. SIBLEY. LEMARS. and Sioux CITY. Iav trains each way with ele gant parlor cars. ThiR service has been .-frmDfjpfl witl-'-a' view the. comfort nnd con veuience of the tra vplirs public, and (-fFtix tho best «nd ruoit ltrx nrioup accomnnHlatione ^hutwwii' thy above named points. ...... Wisconsin Central Line. The Palace. Sleeping and Parlo/ Car Route to Chicago. Departing-Trains—From linne'p'Iis St. Paul. Chicago "Day Express—! Milwaukee, Chicago,! Oshkosh,Fonddu Lac:! NeenaJti, Waukesha & Eau Claire |al2:10 ni al2So Chippewa Falls and Eauj Claire Express 'b lb 1 -.20 pro Chicago Niffht Express—. Milwaukee, Chicago, Oshkash, Fond du Lac,| Neenah. Waukesha & Eau Claire 7 tn a .S:15 Prentice and Ashland...1 :85pni la 8:)5 r.u Arriving- Trains—At |Viune'p'Jis! St.PaiatKj Chicago Fast Express— From Chicago, Mil-i waakte,Oshkosh,For.l| du Lac and Neenah... |a 7:50 a a Prentice and Ashland.... a 7:"0a |a Chippewa Frills and Eau 12 30 2 15 EJ 4 30 ni 5 05 6 05 ra k. a ik :15 a Claire Express iW2:,")5p in !bl2:00 Chicago Day Express—\ From Milwaukee, Chi cago. Oslikosh. Noe-j nah and. Fond du Lac., a 4:20 rn !a_o:40 tn A daily, except Sunday. Chicago Day x. arrives at Chicago 7.00 n. Chicago JSiightEx. arrives at Chicago. 11.25 {. in CITY OFF-IOKS. Minneapolis—No. 19 NicolkH House Bleak., corner of Nicollet and Washington avenues. F. H.ANSON. Northwestern Passenger Agent. St. Paul—No. ITS Jiasi Third street, 5lerch ants' HotelBloek. C. E- Ross, C'ity Ticket Agent. F. X. FINNTJV, JAMKSBAKKBK, General Manager, General Passenger and Milwaukee. Ticker Agent.. ST. PAUL & DULUTH RAiLWAY Trains Arrive and Depart at Union Depot. Standard Ceu tral Time. THROUGH TRAINS. Daily int iiif.iing Sunday. A HULA'K. 00aini'Minneapolii*.. 5 :(5p IJV A VK Minneapolis... Minueapo lis... .55 in Minneapolis^ fl.%! pmllMinncapoiis... Minneapolis... 7.t:0p 7.1.5 a ID Lv J)u li itb'Ai- St Pau 1 Paul Ar Duluth Lv S 820 a tn! '20 pm *8 00 in :k~0pxvi 215pm! 720pm|j a 10puts ?:10p ui. 1005 mi 880a ml 10 00pm! t.5S t, *Daiiy, except Sunday. ^Connectat Duiutb Avir'a Northern Pac.ifii' railway for Superior ftxnj Ar, aland. MIXNKAI'O.LIS, ST. PAUL AKD TAYLOR'S FALLS. Daily exeopt Suntln.v. Mi nneapoli6,4.0f pm A Mi riea pol is,9.3 5 arc Lv St PnuljAr Fails!|Lv Falls At-St Paul _4:Wpjni 7.15pra!i_ 640a mi Sooans ST. PAXIL 'AKZ S'f H.^WATElf. Daily except Sunday. Lv St Paul .ArSf water XvRt.'water A St Paul 20 a inj 1210 in 215 4 30 m| 6 Of) Dm: 9 35 a in: 1 25 in. 8 20 nt 5 40 in 1 7 20 ra *11) I Hi "HI m! 2 Or. ru -5 20 m, 00 m! 12 45 t245p n: 2 4ft 0 40 Jrl CHICAGO—206 Clark* Streot: 55 a 1120 a re 820 pa 530 vi 7 lOp rn I'. PAUL AND STILLWATjFSTf SUNDAY TRAIN'S St Paul!ArSt*watei'i!LvSt'wateri Ar St Pau 1210 ruj 1 25 a in, 10 10 a rn: 11 20 a ir 15 a in !J 20 4 20 5 30 6 05 I 7 20 ID ST. PAXIL W ITJfi BEA^t'LA KE". Daily except Sundays. Lv St Paul ArW_Beari]f,'v Sv" BearjXV^ St Paul 55 a rn ~t 50 a in St Paul 8 20 a 8 55 a us' 120 a m! 7 15 a mi S 20 ti in! 104S a in S 55 a. rr. m' 2 45pm 505p mis. 5 -JO pm|l. t3 40 .1005 10 iu imi! li:'() a in 2 45 t: 4 55 0 10 inj 3 20 5 30 if 7 10 tro ST. i'AUL AND WHITE BEAR SUNDAY ritArss. Lv 8) Patii Ar WBeariTLv W'iteap]Ar"St'Paul' 11 «20am! 0 55 a r« 12 10 2 15 ni (i05 ml 10 48 t) rn 1005 ra! 10 40 pm' 11 20 a vc 1 65 in 50 rn 5 5)0 7 25 i»! Stillwater trains run via White Bear. Sleeping- ears on through nijrht trains. Se cure berths at Union douol or 1(59 East Third street, St. Pau!, or 10 Nicollet house bionk, Minneairolip. R. P. BODGE. General Tiokei /«treut. S(. Paul. iS NORTHWEST :k lift **TICKET OFFICES, :4!i mm.