Scouts

In Washington, D. C., the police radio commanded: "Scout car No. 10 go to Georgia Ave. & Taylor St. Police being attacked." The message came over Scout car No. 10's receiving set but Policemen Smooh and Renner were too busy to respond. They were the police being attacked at Georgia Ave. & Taylor St.

Unclaimed

In Prairie du Chien, Wis. on the railway station platform stands a great box. On its side is painted the address: "Prairie du Chien, Wis."--nothing else, no sender, no addressee. None of Prairie du Chien's 3,043 inhabitants has claimed it, all have come to look at it. The box contains an electric chair, designed for human executions.

Pupil

In Lansing, Ill., two men entered the Oak Glen Trust & Savings Bank. One was calm, swart, carried a machinegun. The other, nervous, blond, dapper, carried a pistol. The nervous blond was too embarrassed to take money from the cashier's drawer. Said his colleague: "Open the drawer, you lug." Later the blond's gun-hand shook so violently the gun discharged, the bullet going into the floor. Shouted his colleague, no longer calm: "You heat head, put that gun away before you shoot yourself." Said the blond, calmer now: "Quit picking on me. I'm doing the best I can." Pupil and teacher left arguing, taking $5,000 in a briefcase.

Solitaire

In New York, on trial for his life for murder, William J. Turner, 21, pulled out a deck of cards, began playing solitaire. The judge stared, sent the jury out of the courtroom, protested. Attendants confiscated the cards. The judge spoke briefly on courtroom conventions. Said Defendant Turner: "What do you think I am going to do--sit here all day and cry?"

Father

In Camden, N. J., one George F. Berstler pinched and poked his son George Jr., 3, making him cry. Criticized by his sister, George F. Berstler snatched up his son, ran to a bridge-rail, suspended the child over the river. Said he: "You can't tell me what to do with my own child."

Design

In Manhattan, Lieut.-Colonel Ralph A. Kluge was lunching with a friend when he heard that the city's supposedly fireproof Pier No. 54, main wharf of the Cunard Line, was burning down. Said he: "You know, I designed the steel construction for that pier years ago. I'd like to see how the old job is standing up. Let's go over."

At the fire, Col. Kluge pressed forward to get a good look. A fire hose burst loose from its hydrant, whipped around, caught Col. Kluge in the back of the skull with its metal coupling, killed him.

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