Monday, Apr. 22, 1929
Rabbits
In Ashmont, Mass., Mrs. Peter Rabbit of No. 91 Florida Street saw a barking Irish terrier jump at her infant daughter in the back yard. She ran to the rescue, retreated before the dog, called Mr. Rabbit. He charged, retreated, called the police. One policeman, two wagons with experts from the Animal Rescue League, and 1,500 neighbors finally captured the terrier in the Rabbit bathroom. None of the Rabbit family was hurt, nor was the dog.
Wait
In Williamstown, Vt., one Charles Snow packed his bag and set out for big Boston to make his way in the world. He told Fannie Simonds to wait for him. That was 60 years ago. The Snows, 76 and 73, are now on their honeymoon.
Explorer
In New Orleans, a landlady rented her sunniest room to Edward White, "explorer." Wakened the first night by creaking boards and roving flashlight, she sat up, saw the new roomer, asked what he was doing. Said he: "Exploring."
Mechanic
In Copenhagen, a bread crust lodged in the throat of Mechanic Anders Hansen. He choked, strangled, took out his pocket knife, cut into his throat below the bulging crust, saved his life.
Gingko
In Manhattan, a policeman was assigned last week to guard a gingko tree in City Hall Park from vandals who believe a piece of gingko brings good luck. The tree, a gift to the city from some Buddhists, was personally planted by Mayor James John Walker.*
Viper
In Locarno, Switzerland, a traveling salesman got a divorce, married again. No.1 Wife, jealous, hearing that No. 2 was to have a baby, bought a huge bouquet of chrysanthemums, hid in it a lively venomous viper, mailed it to her hated rival. No. 2 opened the package, saw the snake (dead from cold in transit) drop out, gave premature birth to her baby. No. 1 Wife, cornered by police, confessed, will be tried for attempted murder.
Darn
In Newark, N. J., a Mrs. Mary Galabrese went into the mixing room of her husband's bakery, saw feet sticking from a stalled doughmixer, called police and firemen. The dead man was Gianto Darn, a worker in the bakery.
* Perhaps the finest, largest gingko in the U. S. is on the grounds of Henry Douglas Pierce, No. 1415 North Meridian St., Indianapolis. The Pierce gingko is more than 8 ft. around. Planted when no larger than a walking stick, it grew amazingly, its roots bathed in soapy drainage from the Pierce laundry. The gingko, bright yellow in autumn, has a curious habit of shed-cling each and every one of its leaves in a single night.