"TIME Brings All Things"

Depoka

In Manhattan, one Barney Depoka wobbled along the streets for 20 days, seeking a job. On the twentieth day, he wobbled to a window on Times Square wherein he saw a female cook flopping pancakes. As he watched the brown pancakes going up in the air, turning over once, flopping back on warm griddle, Barney Depoka nodded his head slowly. At last, with a melancholy sigh, he flopped down on the sidewalk. An ambulance surgeon looked at Barney Depoka and pronounced him starved.

Crucified

In Berlin, railroad employes with hammers and crowbars removed the body of Reinhold Uelmer from the wall of a third-class compartment. His feet had been nailed to the woodwork, his hands made fast with chains. He, morose, an actor out of a job, had accomplished the crucifixion without aid. But he did not die.

Salesman

In southern France, a traveling salesman walked into a small hotel and tried to get a room. Since there were no vacant rooms, the manager told the salesman whose name was Pierre Prothus, that he would have to go somewhere else. Pierre Prothus loudly refused, frightening the manager with his insistence. At last he was led into a neat bed chamber. "Sleep there," said the manager.

Hoping perhaps that at midnight he would be disturbed by the proper occupant of the room, some young and beautiful girl, Pierre Prothus closed his eyes with pleasure. In the morning he awoke, surveyed the room with disappointment and reached under the bed for his slippers. Instead of his slippers, under the bed Pierre Prothus found a grisly corpse.

Now thoroughly enraged, Pierre Prothus rushed to court, instigated suit against the hotel. The manager explained that the corpse belonged to a roomer who had died the day before Pierre Prothus arrived. He had left the corpse under the bed because he had not known where else to put it. Aware of no statute forbidding such action, the magistrate dismissed the suit.

Leg

In mid-Atlantic, one Bruce McQuillan, 43-year-old War veteran, intending to commit suicide, jumped off the deck of the trans-Atlantic Samaria. But Bruce McQuillan had a cork leg and this prevented him from sinking. He was rescued.

Grease

Vain and sticky, thousands of U. S. youths grease their hair before they brush it. In Cedar Rapids, Iowa, last week, one Joe Coparil oiled his hair and went in swimming. Soon he began to drown. A life guard, heeding his cries, swam out and twice tried to grasp him by the hair. This was too slippery to hold, so Joe Coparil sank, drowned.

Leg

In Eton, many years ago, Geoffrey Winthrop Young read Whymper's Scrambles. Years later he lost a leg. Last week he told how he climbed the Matterhorn, famed Alp. Difficult for youthful, healthy mountaineers, the Matterhorn is an almost incredible ascent for a 52-year-old cripple such as Geoffrey Winthrop Young.

"We started at 10 p. m., as I had determined to use the moon and climb all night. . . . We dispensed with a lantern, Hans helping me admirably, with knee and shoulder, and guiding my metal peg to its foothold with the precision of a chess player moving a pawn. We . . . arrived upon the summit at 7:30 a. m. . . . Then came the long terrors of the grim descent--always worse than the ascent for the legless man ... it was over at last. . . ."

Lazy skeptics and whining peg-legs, when they read this fluent and elaborate narrative, shook their heads in complete disparagement. "The lying scamp," they murmured, "a front porch he could climb." The London Times, however, believed Pegleg Winthrop, published his story and an editorial, "... a brave man to treat disablement in the War as a spur, not a curb. ..."

In Brooklyn

In Brooklyn last week, one Harry Kaufmann entered a subway train, sat quietly for a while, began to inspect a Mrs. Anna Prisco directly opposite him. Scorning the naked eye, he swept her with enormous binoculars, peered at her. Mrs. Prisco expressed annoyance. Peerer Kaufmann slapped her. Soon a chivalrous crowd attacked Mr. Kaufmann. Policemen saved him from massacre, jailed him.