Dream

In Danville, Va., operators of a "numbers'' game were bankrupt when the whole town took seriously a Pullman porter's dream that the number 805 was sure to win. It did.

Thirteen

In Geraldine, Mont., Mrs. R. M. Porter was dealt 13 spades, bid seven spades, was overbid by her spadeless partner with seven no trump, doubled, vulnerable. He made it.

Suicide

In Brooklyn, as he was being led into a slaughter depot, Julius, oldtime brewery horse, snapped his rope halter and dashed in front of a truck to his death. "Suicide," said the magistrate. "Julius was high strung,'' said Owner Andrew Smith.

Miracle

In Sunbury, Pa., four hunters simultaneously shot at and hit the same deer In Atlanta, Ga., a game warden served a warrant on Col. W. B. Hutchinson, member of the Governor's staff, for having illegally shot five does. Col. Hutchinson claimed he had not noticed the does in the heavy underbrush, had fired at a buck, killing buck and does with one 12-pellet shotgun shell. Said he: "This has worried me for almost a month. It was purely an accident but it is far better that a judge should decide. ... I have seen a miracle."

Fathers

In Manhattan, a magistrate found Francis McLeod, 27, unemployed barge captain, guilty of smashing his four-month-old daughter in the face after a longshoreman had beaten him in a brawl. In Ashland, Ky., Willard Slusher, 27, was indicted for murder for having quieted his three-month-old daughter with a fatal slap across the head.

Dogs

In Mount Pleasant, N. Y., Mrs. Hope Hitchcock, answering her neighbors' third court action against her prize English sheep dogs, testified that since the court had told her to get rid of all but a "reasonable number," she had sold 21 of her 40 dogs, quieted the rest by bedding herself in the kennels at night. In St. Paul, an unidentified woman bought an extra seat for the Civic Opera Association's performance of Rigoletto, plumped her dog in it "because he loves opera."

Gasman

In a downtown Manhattan tenement, police found the dead body of John Telga, longtime porter at the Bankers' Club, bankbooks showing deposits of $23,500, a cheap bureau full of expensive linen, a parchment coat of arms. All the gas jets were open but no gas issued. Then someone noticed a note under the door: "Your gas has been shut off. The Gas Man."

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