Monday, Sep. 03, 1956
Lift That Bale. In Fresno, Calif., Mrs. Margaret Dudley won a divorce after testifying that her husband charged her 50-c- a day for driving her to the fields where they worked picking cotton.
Retirement Age. In Toronto, after he fined her $100, a magistrate advised 75-year-old grandmother Mrs. Alice Berthauane: "It's time you were getting out of the bootlegging business."
Call of the Boiled. In Redding, Calif., police arrested William Sisk on a charge of drunkenness after they found him trying to make a phone call from a fire hydrant, complaining that he couldn't get the operator.
A Woman's Place. In Houston, after ordering coffee from his waitress wife at the Do-Nut Hole drive-in, Paul Anderson threw it at her, smashed his truck against the building, broke all the restaurant's windows and much of its equipment with an iron pipe, told police that he didn't want his wife working there.
Knockout Performance. In Hamlin, N.Y., during a firemen's parade, Drum Major Irving Gillam gave his baton an especially high toss, watched for it to come down, saw sparks fall instead as the baton fused to a 5,000-volt power line, knocked out village electricity for an hour and a half.
Tall, Silent Type. In North Hollywood, Calif., asked why his redheaded, 6 ft. 2 in. girl friend shot him in the thigh, Pat Comiskey declared it was true love: "She had no other way of expressing herself."
Saturation Attack. Near Hailey, Idaho, miffed because a rat was chewing up a saddle he kept in a barn, Arne Friestad let fly with a shotgun, demolished the rat--and also the barn when pellets struck a nearby box of dynamite.
Flower of Manhood. In Los Angeles, addressing a florists' convention, Benton E. Krischer suggested that as a "revolt against monotony" men should wear flowers in their beards, illustrated his point by sporting a delphinium in his.
Short Cut. In Flint, Mich., asked by police why he drove past highway barricades, sloshed his '49 Ford through 300 ft. of freshly laid concrete pavement, Gordon Yelland explained: "I was in a hurry to get home."
Small Voices. In Miami, caught making white lightning while free on bail after an earlier arrest, Moonshiner Lonnie Hastings mourned: "They is so much noise about a still, what with rats rustling around in the bushes and birds singing in the trees, that a feller can't hear them federal agents when they come around."
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