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^^^^^HHH ■ ■HHHH^i^Bffli i «• * m ati WVHHpR MM VOLUME I. SAUK CENTRE, MINNESOTA, THURSDAY, JUNE 27, 1867. NUMBER 4. t!J» fault itafa* MmUL PtBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY HORNING, At gaiik Centre, Mlimui., BY J. H. SIMONTON. .SS" Office on Third street, one door east of the "Farmer's and Traveler's Home." Subscription t TWO DOLLARS A YEAR IN ADVANCE- Rates of Advertising s Hw 1 2w|3w 13m |6m| ly 1 Square 11 00 | 1251 ISO j 3 50| 6 00]10 00 5 " " | 150 1 2001 250| 400| 8 0011&00 ^ H | 200 | 2751 330 | 5,50 11000 118 00 ii column | 300 ) 400 | 5 00 | 700|12 00)2000 a " 1500 I 650| 800 |10001 2000 14000 i 1 8 00 4 1000 112 00 j 20 001 40 00 | 75 00 Legal advertisements 75 cents per square for the first insertion, and 37^ cents per square for each subsequent insertion. Special place advertisements Inserted at rates agreed upon. Yearly advertisers to pay quarterly. Strangers must pay in advance, or give satisfactory reference. JOB PRINTING of all kinds executed on short notice in the best style. PROFESSIONAL CARDS m H. MINER, Attorney and Counselor at Law, Notary Public and Conveyancer, Sauk Centre, - - Minnesota. *.«"=:: Office over the Post Office. ,R. B. E. PALMER, . PHYSICIAN & SURGEON. ■M3° Residence pear the Mill, Sauk Centre. -=©3. ILLIAM J. PARSONS, ATTORNEY AT LAW, Saint Germaine street, over Burbank Bros., St. Cloud, Minnesota. CHAS. WALKER, Attorney at Law. %R.P. EDSON, „ Attorney at Law and Notary Public. Edson <8s Walker, REAL ESTATE AGENTS, Office over Philadelphia Store on Third street, Sauk Centre, Stearns County, Minnesota. Business Property, Houses and Lots, Farms, Farming Lands, etc., etc., bought and sold on commission. ATTENTION! i is called to the fact that our facilities for making out Pre-emption papers and for locating <ahd entering Government Land with Cash, Scrip or Land Warrants, are unsurpassed by any office west of St. Cloud. A large assort- nieiit of Town Plots for the use of seekers of . Claims on hand and kept constantly corrected- uy correspondence with the Land Office. We have in our hands for saie some of the .finest Farms and Farming Lands in this upper countjy. BUSINESS CARDS. XJILLIAED SALOON, A. L>E GROAT, Proprietor. Third street, Sauk Centre, Minnesota. Has first class Phelan & Collender Billard Tables. Choice Wines, Liquors, Ale, Porter and Cigars. < PmSsHn ■QALOON AND BAKERY. O. M. RENNOE, Proprietor. Main Street, Sauk .Centre, Minnesota. .Bread, Cakes, Pies, &c, always on hand. Hot Coffee and- Meals at all hours. Good Wines and Liquors and the best brands of Cigars^s II. miner: Insurahco Agent, ' Sauk Centre, - - Minnesota. Represents the ssundest and most reliable Fire, Life and Accident Insurance Com- " panies of the Eastern and Western States. Office over the Post Office. J. WHITEFIELD, House .fie Sign Painter, ■Graining, Glazing, Paper Hanging, &c, done •with neatness and on reasonable terms. Work warranted equal in quality to that agreed upon or no charges made. j6®~ Paint Shop next door to Thomas & Co's. Sauk Centre, Minn., June 5,1867. OHN CHRISTGAU, Boot &z SHioo Maimer, Main Street, Sauk Centre, Minn., A complete stock of Boots and Shoes kept ' constantly on hand, and made to order on $hort notice. Good fits warranted. Repairing promptly done, at reasonable -prices. All kinds of Shoemaker's Tools for sale. P. EDSON Is Agent for sound and reliable FIRE, LIFE, ACCIDENTAL LIFE AND LIVE STOCK INSTJRANE COMPANIES. He insures LTve Stock against Death and Theft, in the Hartford Live Stock Insurance Company—the soundest and only reliable Live Stock Company on this continent. E _,.DWARD DEEBLOW, Cabinet Maker. "Main street, Sauk Centre, Minnesota. ■Keeps constantly on hand a complete stock of Furniture, Coffins, &o. All orders will receive prompt attention. LAND OFFICE & EEAL ESTATE AGENCY. j*v|? 2V. H. Mluei-, Lands sold on commission. Farms composed of Prairie, Meadow and Timber Land for sale. .Persons desiring to enter Land, with Cash, Scrip or Land Warrants, can do so at j»y office and avoid the time and expense of a trip to St? Cloud. Office over the JPost Office, Sank Centre', Minnesota. ■Mt%%, EiAHCttJrtT E.ANSS. BY ROBEBT BItOWNING. In all the land, range up, range'down. Is there ever a plaee so pleasant and sweet As Langley lane. In London town, Just out of the bustle of square and street? Lttue white cottages all In a row, Gardens where bachelor buttons grow, . Swallows' nests in roof and wall, And up above the still blue sky, Where the woolly white clouds go sailing by— I seem to be able to see it all! For now, in summer, I take my chair, And sit outside in the sun and hear The distant murmur of street and square-, And the swallows and Sparrows chirping near; And Fanny, who lives just over the way, Comes running, many a time each day, With her little hand's touch so warm and kind. And I smile and talk, with the sun on my cheek; And the little live hand eeems to sit and speak— For Fanny la dumb and I am blind. Fanny is sweet thirteen, and she ■ Has fine black ringlets and dark eyes clear, And I am older, by summers three; Why shouldn't we hold one another so dear 7 Because she cannot utter a word. Nor hear the Eiuslc of bee'o? bird, The water carts splash or the milkman's call? Because I have never seen the sky, Nor the little singers that hum any, Yet know she is gazing upon them all?J For the sun is shining, the swaUows fly, The bees and blue fly murmur low, And I hear the water cart go by, With its cool, splash, splash down the rusty row; And the little one close to my side perceives Mine eyes upraised to the cottage eaves, Where birds are chirping insummer shine, And I hear, though I cannot look, and she, Though she cannot hear, can the singers see, And the little soft lingers flutter in mine! Hath not the dear little hand a tongue When it stirs, on my palm,for the love of me? Hath not my soul any eye to see 7 .'lis pleasure to make one's bosom stir, To wonder how things appear to her, That I only hear as I pass around; And and as long as we sit in tlie music and " lMht, i. $*- She is happy to keep in God's light, And I am happy to keep God's sound. Why, I know her face, though I am blind— I made it of music long ago! Strange large eyes and dark hair twined Bound the pensive'light of a brow of snow; And whfen I sit by my little one. And hold her hand and talk in the sun, And hear the music that haunts the place, I know she is raising her eyes to me, And guessing how gentle niy voice must be, And seeing the music upon my face. Tho' if ever the Lord should grant me a prayer (I know the fancy is only vain> I should pray Just once, when the weather Is fitirl To see little Fanny and Langley lane; Though Fanny, perhaps, would pray to hear The voice of the friend that she holds so dear, The song of the birds, the hum of the bee; It is better td"be as we have been— Each keeping up something, unheard, unseen To make God's Heaven more strange and near. Ah! life is pleasant in Langley lane! There is always something sweet to hear, Chirping of birds or patter of rain! And Fanny, my little one, always near; And though I am weakly and can't live long, And Fanny, my darling, is far front strong, And though we can never married be, What then? since We hold one another so dear, For the sake of the pleasure one cannot see, And the pleasure that only one can hear. *, .f$mlg;ttg Tlie Story of 4Sie Bad IiJtile Boy \y3io jDldnt Come to Grief. BY MASK TWAIN. There was a bad little boy whose name was Jim—though, if you will notice, you will find th&t bad little boys are nearly always called James in your Sunday school books. It was very strange, yet it was true that this one was called Jim. He didn't have any sick mother, either—a sick mother who was pious ahd had the consumption, and would be glad to lie down in the grave and be at rest but for the strong love she bore her boy, and the anxiety she felt that the world would be harsh and cold to him when ghe was gone. Many bad boys in the Sunday school books are named James, and have sick mothers who teach them to say, "Now I lay me down," etc., and sing them to sleep with plaintive- voices, and then Kiss them good-night, and kneel down by the bedside and weep. But it was different with this fellow. He was named Jim, and there wasn't anything the matter with his mother—no consumption, or anything of that kind. She was rather stout than otherwise, and she was not pious j moreover, she was not anxious on Jim's account. She said if he were to break his neck, it wouldn't be much loss. She always spanked Jim to sleep, and she never kissed him good-night; on the contrary, she boxed his ears when she was ready to leave him. Once this little bad boy stole the key of the pantry and slipped in there and helped himself to some jam, and filled up the vessel with tar, so that his mother would never know the difference, but all at once a. terrible feeling didn't come over him, and something didn't seem to whisper to him, " Isit right to disobey my mother ? Isn't it sinful to do this ? Where do bad little boys go who gobble up their good, kind mother's jam?" and then he didn't kneel down all alone and promise never to be wicked any more, and rise up with a light, hajrpy heart, and go and tell his mother all about it, and beg her forgiveness, and be blessed by her with tears of pride ahd thankfulness in her eyes. No; this is the way with all other bad boys in the books ; but it happened otherwise with this Jim, strange? ly enough. He ate that jam, and said it was bully, in his sinful, vulgar way ; and he put in the tar, and said that was bully also, .and laughed, and observed that " the old woman would get up and snort" when she found it out; and when_she did find it out he denied knowing anything about it, and she* whipped him severely, and he did the crying himself. Everything about this boy was curious—everything turned out differently with him from the way it does to the bad Jameses in the books. Once he climbed in Farmer Acorn's apple-tree to steal apples, and the limb didn't break, and he didn't fall and break his arm, and get torn by the farmer's great dog, and then languish on a sick bed for weeks, and repent and become good. Oh, no ! He stole, as many apples as he wanted, and came dt»wn all right, and he was all ready for the dog, too, and knocked him end- wavs with a rock when he came to tear him. It w*a very strange—nothing like it ever happened in those mild little books with marbled backs, and with pictures in, them of men lyUh swallow- tailed coats and bell-crowned hats, and pantaloons that are short in the legs,' and women with the waists of their dresses under their arms and no hoops on. Nothing like it in any of the Sunday school hooks. . Once he stole his teacher's penknife, and when he Was afraid it would be found out and he would get whipped, he slipped it into George "Wilson's cap— poor widow Wilson's son, the moral boy, the good little boy of the village, who always obeyed his mother, and never told an untruth, and was fond of his lessons and infatuated with Sunday school. And when the knife dropped from the cap, and poer George hung his head and blushed, as if in conscious guilt, and the grieved teacher charged the theft upon him, and was just in the very act of bringing the switch down upon his trembling ahodklers, a white haired, improbable jftstice of the peace did not suddenly appear in their midst and "strike ah attitude and say, •' spare this noble boy—there stands the cowering culprit 1 I was passing the school- door at recess, and, unseen myself, I saw the theft committed." And then Jim didn't get whaled, and the'venerable justice didn't read the tear&l-BChool a homily, and take George by the hand and say such a boy deserved to be exalted, and then tell him to come and make his home With him, and sweep out the office, and make fires, and run errands, and chop wood, and study law, and help his wife to do household labors, and have all the balance of the time to play, and get forty cents a month and be happy. No; it would have happened that .way in the books, but it didn't happen that way to Jim. No meddling old clam of justice dropped in to make trouble, and so the model boy George got thrashed, arid Jim was glad of it; because, you know, Jim hated moral boys. Jim said he was " down on thern milksops." Such was the coarse language of ffoisbad, neglected boy. But the strangest thing that ever happened to Jim was the time he went boating on Sunday and didn't get drowned, and that other time that he got caught out in the storm when he was fishing on Sunday', and didn't get struck by lightning. Why, you might look and look, and look through the Sunday school books from now till next Christmas, and you would never come across anything like this. Oh I no; you would find that all the bad boys who go boating on Sunday invariably get drowned} and the bad boys who get caught-out in storms, when they are fishing on Sunday, invariably get struck by lightning. Boats with bad boys in them always upset on Sunday, and it always storms when bad boys go fishing oh the Sabbath. How this Jim ever escaped ia a mystery to me. This Jim bore a charmed life—that must have been the way of it. Nothing could hurt him. He even gave the elephant in the menagerie a plug of tobacco, and the elephant didn'teknock the top of his head off with his trunk. He browsed around the cupboard, after essence of peppermint, and didn't make a mistake and drink aqua fortis. He stole his father's gun and went hunting on the Sabbath, and didn't shoot three of four of his fingers Off. He struck his little sister in the temple with his fist when he was angry, and she didn't linger in pain through long summer days, and die with sweet words of forgiveness upon her lips that redoubled the" anguish of his breaking heart. No; she got over it. He ran off and went to sea- at last, and didn't come back and find himself sad and alone in the world, his loved ones sleeping in the quiet churchyard, and the vine-embowere'd home of his boyhood tumbled down and gone to decay. Ah! no; J^came home drunk as a piper, and got into the station-house the first' thing. And he grew up and married, and raised adarge family, and brainedHhem. with an axe one night, a»d got wealth/ by all manner of cheating and rascality, and now he is the internalist wicked scoundrel in his native village, and is universally respected and belongs to the Legislature. So you see, there never was a bad James in the Sunday school boo£s that had such a streak of luck as this sinful Jim with the charmed life. ■rattling on ! Your D. D. is dwindled down; your P. M. is .past minding; your M. C. is a microscopic curiosity.— B. F., Taylor. jfc. A THUttLMG SCENE. Characteristic OT8TAIJCE. Did you ever creep"' gingerly up to the deck of a railroad car, when the train was moving say twenty-five or thirty miles an hour ? And did you ever look away on beyond the train where two iron bars—that noblest couple in the great epic of time—were welded lovingly togelftrer without hammer, or furnace, or fire, but just below the wonderful fingers of Distance, till they lay there, a huge V upon the bosom Of the prairie ? And how marvellously, as the train moved on, those bars swayed round to a parallel, as lightly and noiselessly as a brace of sunbeams flung from a mirror swinging in the wanton wind, sweep round in the blue air ? And did you mind—not a spike wrenched -from its good hold; not a tie wrctied ; not a timber splintered. There must be a eharra in those, fingers indeed I There new?, a brood of little haycocks, escaped from their native mea- doW) have clustered dowri in the track, righi'before.the engine. Heedless little things I But age will bring wisdom, and one of these days they'll be discreet hay-stacks. WW. be 1 Why they are getting to be stacks already. How they expand and " get up In the world " as we near them! And they hear the train ; for see they are wheeling in a sort of Knickerbocker waltz to the right and left, over the fence and back Of the barn, and beyond the orchard ; and there they are, dignified and'im- perturbable as hay-stacks ought to be. And those little Bushes—a capital B, if they are bushes—exactly in the way, whispering and all of a flutter, dodging up here and nestling down there like " truants" in the entry during school hours. On thunders the train, and up jump the bushes. Bushes'indeed I Trees, forest trees; trees of a century; " columns in God's first temple." The, trees are on the track, eh ? By the holy rood-they are rods away, just where they were before railroads were dreamed of. And the worker of all this diaHeriei You can see the fluttering of her blue robe just above *he horizon. She has gone on to conjure again. It is Distance. " Stop the train 1 Let us off) Conductor, Captain, somebody, anybody! There's a village dri the track; born, christened and grown since last night. There's a meeting house, and a grave yard, and a block of stores in the way! On we plunge—dispelled at the first whistle 1 The church moves gravely away) as churches should. The grave-yard, with its sleeping tenantry, is whisked out of sight like a trundle-bed; a martin-box of a cottage scuds round the corner of the meeting house; the row of brick stores very much flushed, steps six paces to the rear; the cars jar on, and Distance and Motion axe in the secret. Look behind you, and they are adjusting the machinery for the next train. Back goes the - village, that has been frightened away by the whistle, and the stacks and the trees grow "beautifully less;" and so it is every day and all day, and everywhere, when Motion and Distance are partners. There's something on the the track again ! It^s a fly—it's a frog—it's a child-—it's a man—six feet high—a P. M.—an M. C. On we go. We have passed him. Five feet high—four feet high—a child—a bug—a nothing! What pranks Distance can play-with a man and his dignities as the cars drive A correspondent of the New York Independent, writing from Rochester, says': " It was a thrilling seen* in the Assembly when Dr. Adams, of New York, •read the report of the reunion committee. Most of the delegates were ignorant of its contents. It was an admirably drawn document—largely from the pen of Dr. Patterson, of Chicago. The Assembly was full, and during the readingjof the paper you could have heard the drop of a handkerchief. Dr. Adams, with his manly figure and fine white head, stood by the. Moderator's side, and read it with a solemn and sonorous emphasis. As he went forward, tears began to start in the eyes of the old men who had witnessed the disruption of the church, just thirty years,, ago. The fountains werfe breaking up ; and, in the blessed,- full-banked flood of christian love, the ice-floes of controversy and prejudice were swept away in the irresistable torrent. When Dr. Adams finished, we all sat in mute, tearful joy, and in adoration of the majestic hand of God that had. wrought for us such a glorious issue, Dr Wiener rose and offered a few tender words. He was followed by Dr. Lyon, of Erie; and then the whole Assembly came "to their feet, and joined in a. fervent prayer of thanksgiving! It was a scene to be remembered to the dying hour, and to be recalled in the memories of Heaven. Henceforth the Presbyterian church is to be one ; and what God joins together let no heresy- hrlnters ever put asunder 1 ' I-venture to predict that ..this hurried epistle is one of the last that you will ever receive from a New School General Assembly in the. church of Calvin and John Knox—the «huroh that follows even those mighty men only in so far as they follow ChrinW' YOTJKG AMERICA WONDERS. Wonder why mamma keeps Bridget home from church all day, and then say to me it is wicked to build my rabbit house on Sunday. Wonder why our' minister bought that pretty cane with the yellow lion's head on the top, and then asks nie for my cent to put in the missionary box. Don't I wa«t ajewsharp just as well as he wanted a cane ? Wondefr what makes papa tell such nice stories about hiding the master's rattan when he went to school, and about his running away from the school mistress when she was going to Whip him, and then shut me up all day iu a dark room because I tried just once to be as smart as he was. Wonder what made papa say that bad word when Betsey upset the ink all over his papers, and then, slap my ears because I said the same thing When my kite string broke. Wonder why mamma told Bridget the other day that she was not at home when Tommy Day's mother called, and' then pute me to bed without my supper every night I tell a lie. Oh dear 1 there'are lots of things I want to know. How I wish I was a man.—Fanny Fern. Quotations of Gold.—The quotations of gold as given in the money articles of the daily papers, convey no fixed idea to the common mind ; the information needed by the generality of the people ia, what is a paper dollar worth ? We have been furnished with the following, which those that care to do so can cut out for reference: When gold is quoted at $1.10, a paper dollar is worth 90 cents nearly. When gold is quoted at $1.15, a paper dollar is worth 85 cents. When gold is quoted at $1.25, a paper dollar is worth .80 cents. When gold is quoted at $1.30, a paper dollar is worth 77 cents. When gold is quoted at $1.35, a paper dollar is worth 74 cents. When gold is quoted at $1.40, a paper dollar is worth 71 cents. When gold is quoted at $1.45, a paper dollar is worth 69 cents. When gold is quoted at $1.45, a paper dollar is worth 66§ cents. A preacher in Berks county, Pennsylvania, discoursingabout Daniel in the lion's den, said: "An thar he sot all Ijight long a lookiu' at the show for Ajjthin', and it didn't cost him nary a cent. From the WatertoWn "Reformer. A few days since a small, fine looking bright boy came into the cars and , took a seat. Shortly after a minister came in and took a seat before and facing him, when the following conversation ensued: " Well, my little lad, what is your- name? " said the,minister. " My name is James, Footy 'what Us your ? " " William Hand," was the answer, "Where are you going?" asked the minister, y ' cli - * To Rome, sir, and where are you going -?" Was the -respcmse'of the boy. ,The minister could 'So no .less"than answer '• to Camden." " How old are you ? " was the next question of the minister. '• Eight years," replied. the boj\ " HoW old are you, sir ? " The minister hesitated but gave aft answer. '" Are you alone?" Was the riext question of the minister. "Oh,»o,"*aad the teoy, pofiatiAg tS the minister, " I have plenty of com- P*uy»*\" '" But have you' no friends oh boarci 'to look afteV yon?" asked the minister. " No, sir," said the boy, a have you 2^ This was not answere'd. but followed by a little history. " When! I was a little bay," said th6 minister, *• my parents Would net allow me to go off the farm alone." . At this, the.boy, with an indescriba- ble,look, said; "it is different now." A SOAP STORTi . The Rockford Gazette tells the following of a Chicago soap drummer : One of these gentlemen the -other day Walked into the store, of our friend S. W. Stone, and after opening up his kit, informed Mr,' fttone that he WafcL soliciting orders for a Chicago Soap Manufacturipg Corhpany, and wished to get his order" for twenty.-five or fifty boxes of his " Erasive, detersive soap-, and no family could keep house without it; it washed several men ashore when lost on Lake Michigan^", and so on. Mr. Stone was quite busy at the time, and had been extremely annoyed by several drummers during the dayj and remarked that of all traveling men-, he most disliked to see a soap man, for they could never be induced to " dry upy' most likely on account of -the lye, (lie) used in manufacturing their goods-. The soap man replied, " Yes, that is what a Freeport merchant' told me yesterday. After showing my samples I commenced talking, when the merchant, with hair erect, his 'eyes starting from their sockets, bawled out at the top of his piping voice to one of his clerks—Joe ! bring the club i here's another soap man I''" It is needless to sayj. Stone came down and ordered —-m- tf Sin itnnyi . A burly Irishman called at th.e telegraph office during the heavjr storm of last Week, says the Red Bluff Independent, and desired to send a message to Shasta. Lyon told him he would have to wait a few hours before it could be transmitted, as the line was temporally disarranged by the storm-. " What difference doea that make ? J* says Pat. -. "Why the wire is down—underwater—and we have to wait till it is put up," says Lyohi " Undher wather, is It?" said the Fenian; " that don't hinder it at all, at all. Shure,-4rB only forty miles from here to Shasta; an it's five thousand miles from here to ould Ireland. ' Ah* begorra, I read iu the Sacraininty Uj*» ion yesterday a whole lot iv late news from Dublin an' 6-B-r-k^about the Fay- nians, an' more about Louis Napoleon writin' to the O'Donahue to borry the loan of Brian Boru's blackthorn shtick to bate Garibaidy ami restore the Poap; an' that kem all the way under wather, so it did. To the devil wid yur ould fresh-wather teiegjaph that can't spake forty miles." <l Dad's DriN'."-^As a remarkable ila* stance of filial affection and juvenile philosophy, we present the following: A lad of twelve or thirteen years of age visited Caledonia for a doctor; He found Dr. Riddle at home taking his siesta," and woke him up with : ^Doctor, I want you to come and see dad— he's dyin'." " Well," says the doctor, " if he's dyirr1 I can't do hrm any good.'1 < " That's so," rejoined the boy ; *he"ll be dead in less than an hour;" and turning on his heel, added; "Well, by jing, we've all got to die some time or other, and dad might as wejl die now as any time." . , -
i «• * m ati
SAUK CENTRE, MINNESOTA, THURSDAY, JUNE 27, 1867.
t!J» fault itafa* MmUL
PtBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY HORNING,
At gaiik Centre, Mlimui.,
BY J. H. SIMONTON.
.SS" Office on Third street, one door east of
the "Farmer's and Traveler's Home."
TWO DOLLARS A YEAR IN ADVANCE-
Rates of Advertising s
Hw 1 2w|3w 13m |6m| ly
11 00 | 1251 ISO j 3 50| 6 00]10 00
5 " "
| 150 1 2001 250| 400| 8 0011&00
| 200 | 2751 330 | 5,50 11000 118 00
| 300 ) 400 | 5 00 | 700|12 00)2000
1500 I 650| 800 |10001 2000 14000
1 8 00 4 1000 112 00 j 20 001 40 00 | 75 00
Legal advertisements 75 cents per square for
the first insertion, and 37^ cents per square
for each subsequent insertion.
Special place advertisements Inserted at
rates agreed upon.
Yearly advertisers to pay quarterly.
Strangers must pay in advance, or give satisfactory reference.
of all kinds executed on short notice in the
Attorney and Counselor at Law, Notary
Public and Conveyancer,
Sauk Centre, - - Minnesota.
*.«"=:: Office over the Post Office.
,R. B. E. PALMER,
. PHYSICIAN & SURGEON.
■M3° Residence pear the Mill, Sauk Centre. -=©3.
ILLIAM J. PARSONS,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Saint Germaine street, over Burbank Bros.,
St. Cloud, Minnesota.
Attorney at Law.
„ Attorney at Law and
Edson <8s Walker,
REAL ESTATE AGENTS,
Office over Philadelphia Store on Third street,
Sauk Centre, Stearns County, Minnesota.
Business Property, Houses and Lots, Farms,
Farming Lands, etc., etc., bought and sold on
i is called to the fact that our facilities for making out Pre-emption papers and for locating