In Valladolid

In Valladolid, Spain, one Camille Lorenzo, 68,* gave birth last week to her 30th child.

Dive

In the London Times appeared the picture of a diving tower. It was so tall that few men would have cared to leap from it, still fewer to leap from it entwined about someone else, still fewer if their bones were old and their years numbered over 70. Yet two curmudgeons--Sir Claude Champion de Crespigny, 78, and Otto Hagburgh, 71--lately performed this feat in England. The London Times' photo showed then in midair.

Dimes

In East Orange, N. J., an automobile containing an old gentleman drew up beside a traffic policeman. The occupant asked the way to Perth Amboy, and received polite directions. "How many children have you?" asked the old man. "Three, sir," replied the officer. The old man stretched out a hand and dropped five dimes into the stout fist of the patrolman. Said he:

"I am John D. Rockefeller, and I want to thank you for your courtesy. I am not trying to bribe you. Here is a dime for your wife, yourself, and each of your children."

Fools

In Scranton, Pa., some 30 persons were summoned to appear before the Federal District Court, to answer charges of defacement of public property. True to the legend which remarks that fools' names, like fools' faces, have a way of achieving unfortunate notoriety, the 30 had scratched their names on a memorial on Gettysburg battlefield. The names: Mrs. C. C. Conway, W. F. Whitlock, New York City; P. I. Corpyor, Lake George, N. Y.; Fred C. Wyatt, Providence, R. I.; Donald Campbell, Washington, D. C.; Robert Mark Sr., Mrs. Robert Mark, Robert Mark Jr., Elizabeth Spangler, Julia Boyer, L. G. Warner, H. Gunderson, Annie Hurstan, A. England, George Mof-fal, Hugo and Anna Wyborg and Alberta Southland, all of Baltimore, Md.

Edithiana

In Chicago, Edith Rockefeller McCormick, daughter of John D. Rockefeller, recently offered a prize. She would give $1,500, not to mention consolation prizes, for the best name suggested for a 1,500-acre town some real estate men were organizing in the interests of the Rockefeller-McCormick Trust. Names poured in: "Edithwatha," "Edithsdream," "Edithport," "Edithton City," "Lakrenda," "Shadowwood," "Eden Pier," "Krenado Beach" (after Architect Krenn). A Chinaman from Madison, Wis., suggested "Elysians." W. R. Hearst of Maywood, Ill., received a prize of $5 for an inferior title. But a touch of genius fired one Elmer H. Huge of La Porte, Ind. He turned in the name, "Edithton Beach," received the $1,500.

Luck

In Manhattan, while Frank D. Waterman, nephew of L. E. Waterman, famed fountain pen maker, was being congratulated on having received the Republican nomination for Mayor, an old man sat in a vacant office on Madison Ave. staring at a fountain pen of antique design. He, Warren N. Lancaster, onetime business rival of the famed Waterman, told reporters how luck had undone him:

"That was a buster, that pen. I called it the Idea, after a horse I owned. Eugene Leigh, who brought that French horse over last year, trained him for me. . . When I had a place at No. 212 Broadway I sent President Garfield a pen like that. L. E. Waterman had a place a few doors down the street. I used to get my rubber from H. P. & E. Day up at Seymour, Conn. No one could make gutta percha like they could, on a big marble table, you know. Well, one time Mr. Day said he couldn't sell me any more rubber casings. Said he'd made a contract with Waterman. I put all my machinery on a boat and sailed it down to Baltimore. . . I advertised on P. T. Barnum's first circus program. . . When they put up the Flatiron building, they flashed 'The Lancaster Pen' against it with a stereopticon machine. Once I printed a Sunday paper to give away. . . My wife and I traveled all over; I introduced her to Mrs. Potter Palmer out in Chicago . . . It all goes back to the Baltimore fire." . . Old Mr. Lancaster pointed to a woodcut on a time-stained circular, which showed a Tennysonian gentleman with bushy brown whiskers, gold pince nez. "I looked like that once," said he. "It was always a fight. . ."

-Thirty children is not a record. A British tombstone tells of a woman--one Eliz. Mott--who bore 42.