Escape

Five shots for a dime, twenty for a quarter, from a real man-killing gun. In Louisville, Ky., one Charles J. Smith eyed the shooting gallery nightly as he hobbled home on crutches. Men seemed to have fun popping the gaudy ducks, and the ducks did not mind even when they were hit. One night last week he hobbled up to the counter, threw down his crutches, paid a dime. His first shot did no harm. His second he put carefully through his own head. In his pocket police found a note to his mother.

Balm for Two

Mr. and Mrs. B. E. Mulford live at Beaumont, Tex. Did Mr. love Mrs.? For years Mr. has been saying "yes." For years, Mrs. has continued to ask. On her birthdays she expected an answer, question or no question. Last July, on the anniversary of her nativity, Mr. was on the road. At Waxahatchie, Tex., he sent Mrs. a telegram stating he loved her, only her. Returning home he found her "cool, dejected, thoughtful and brooding, contrary to her usual sunny, cheerful, friendly and affectionate nature and disposition." One day he discovered that the Waxahatchie telegram had never been delivered. Blissfully reconciled, Mr. and Mrs. joined in bringing suit against the Western Union Telegraph Co. for $1 actual and $1,800 exemplary damages. The legal petition sets forth: "Mrs. Mulford has brooded, and dark suspicions and doubts crept into her mind as to whether failure to receive the message was due to neglect and lack of thoughtfulness on the part of her husband, which indicated to her a waning of affection on his part, all of which caused her deep mental anguish."