Monday, Dec. 08, 1941
Gratitude. In Richmond, Ind., John Count was released from jail after an eleven-day stay for intoxication. Back shortly with gifts for his excell mates, he was readmitted, reintoxicated.
Great Day. In Minneapolis, a colored bootblack won $3,200 on the races, promptly quit his job, got a shoeshine from a friend, tipped the friend $5, and left town. The friend quit.
Hazard. In South Bend, Wash., the local game protector reported elk were crowding the highways, bumming cigarets from autoists. He explained the elk were not smokers, but chawers.
Disclosure. In Salt Lake City, a speaker informed the Western Association of Teachers of Speech that breast-fed babies had the best chance of becoming forceful public speakers.
Culprits. In North Harrow, England, investigators went to a building showing lights during a blackout, found the lights came from a meeting of air-raid-precaution wardens.
Complaint. In Indianapolis, Charles Z. Bondy, who said he was the great-great-grandson of a white girl reared by the Miami Indians, sued to recover Indian land taken by the State, asked $10,000,000 damages.
Officer. At Fort Bragg, N.C., a Private named Corporal Rudolph Sargent was advanced to Corporal, put a sign on his door in the barracks: PRIVATE--Corporal Sargent.
Cry. In Austin, Tex., a tamale vendor who cried, "Hot tamales--and that ain't all," was fined for bootlegging, changed his cry to "Hot tamales--and that's all."
Football. In Portsmouth, Ohio, monoxide fumes from a dressing-room heater drugged the Central Catholic football squad between halves. Wobbly and stupefied, they were taken to a hospital and treated after beating Ironton St. Joseph's High, 27-to-0.
Correction. In Leupp, Ariz., Yazzie Greymountain scotched reports of his death, in a letter to the Highway Patrol: "Yazzie Greymountain is me who is not dead. If I was a dead accident then I couldn't write you this letter, could I? That's right. . . . I am 100% live Navajo Indian. . . . I have one wife which is called Tonlin Barton Greymountain just like my name. It makes Tonlin cry when she reads that I am a dead accident. . . . My leg is broke and there are bumps on my head but I am alive and not a dead accident. . . . Don't make any mistake next Tuesday and give me a decent Christian burial because I don't want one."
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