Monday, Mar. 20, 1950

Customer's Right. In Hartford, Conn., the two salesmen hawking $2 automobile emergency lights to employees in the State Office Building did a booming business until they barged into the "Sales and Use Division" where an unimpressed prospect made them buy a sales permit and a $50 bond.

Limited Choice. In Oklahoma City, Federal Judge Stephen Chandler considered the case of two persistent moonshiners again found guilty of plying their craft in Oklahoma, delivered the sentence: spend three to five years in prison or move to "some place like West Texas."

Love Is in the Air. In Burbank, Calif., Mrs. John Franza Slater finally got wind of her valentine two days after her flying husband Jess had dropped a pound of Roquefort cheese by parachute into a tree half a block from home.

March of Science. In Bloomington, Ind., where Indiana University's Chemistry Professor E. E. Campaigne had just announced discovery of a new antihistamine drug to fight the common cold, the professor, his wife & two children came down with colds.

Stalemate. In Chicago, Harry May, legally separated from wife Audrey but still unable to have her evicted from his house, brought home a bodyguard, saw the balance of power redressed the following day when Audrey turned up with a bodyguard, too.

Enough. In The Bronx, a sign hanging in a closed cleaning and pressing shop read:

"No water.

"No coal.

"Too near the H-bomb bull's eye.

"Let the Indians have it.

"Forwarding address, George T. Broman, Greenwood, Ark."

Safe Deposit. In Peoria, Ill., at the depth of the coal strike, truckmen delivering a load of precious coal to the William H. Friedrick house aimed at what they thought was the cellar chute, learned too late that they had dumped it all into an abandoned cistern.

Concordance. In Harlem, Publisher Levi ("Professor") Graham was released on $500 bail after police seized 225,000 copies of his "spiritual guidance" booklets in which, the cops said, the biblical reference numbers were tips in policy games.

The End. In Malden, Mass., Waldo F. Davis left a half-completed income tax form on the dining-room table, stepped into the bathroom, and with a razor fatally slashed his wrist.

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