KH m (2 8 u2 ft. 0 Hi ft w J irrrrnHimm iiiteuiiiitmi -a' ,15 fP (-L Tf T was towanls t,,c cloH 5VV IcllltC Jl t,,e I''1 n tirri Ho had come by tin; ci 5f ort . . - spectacles $w. oho of n bright summer's clay thnt vel at the paternal mansion. quickest route, "Tun Huiilixg- tox." The sun war declining iu the west the only thing that docs decline west of Chicago, except base ball aud its slanting rays threw a golden tint upon the gray hairs of the aged father, who sat on the front porch reading the last HunuxcTox Route ' advertisement. The gate opcmjl, and the old man peering over his spectacles descried u ragged tramp coining up the walk. bout to set the dog on him, in accordance with custom of that hospitable region, when the tramp came up, removed a dilapidated hat rim which en circled his brow, aud cried, " Father, don't you know me?" "Know you," returned the old man, after scru tinizing him a inomentover his spectacles," I would know you if I saw your hide hanging in a. tan yard; it's my ' ojvn loH i b-hoy ! " Theu the fond parent fell upon his ig son's nock and wept wept because it was-so dirty; it " " " hadn't'been washed si uco1 Christmas, but hetook him ia all the same, gave him u bath and a new suit of clothes, and then walked him down to the 11. &. M. depot to see to what perfection "The BoRLixnTOX" had brought their passenger train service. 'Twas marvelous, and the prodigal son straightway registered a solemn vow that his children and his children's children for all time to come should recognize "Tin: Buulixctox" as the one great railway whose equipment was alwaj's vp to dale. Wo don't know how this legend of the prodigal son canio down through the ages so accurate and free from s:du issues, but it's here, intact and unincumbered, ready to adorn a back cover or point a moral. The moral of this story is, if you would prosper in this world, travel only by "Tjik Buulixctox Routk." J. FBANCIS, Gen. Passenger Agent, OMAHA. ill A. C. ZIEMER, City Passenger Agent, LINCOLN. r mintuyiwir Vi-?2rifX umiuuuHt