• U.S.

Miscellany, Nov. 14, 1938

4 minute read


In Galveston, Texas, G. Martini, assistant manager of a cinema theatre, was on his way to deposit the day’s box-office receipts of You Can’t Take It With You. In the lobby of the bank a bandit held up Manager Martini, took it with him.


In Manhattan, Douglas G. Hertz, Rockleigh, N. J. sportsman, submitted a bid of $850,000 to the City of New York for the sale of its Tombs Prison. If his bid is accepted, he plans to use it during the World’s Fair as a museum of famed crimes and criminals; afterwards, to turn it into an indoor polo field.


In Milan, Italy, Paolo Motta and his bride, Teresina, retired on their wedding night. Water began to drip on Paolo’s neck. He looked for the annoying source, could not find it, went damply muttering back to bed. Next night the same thing happened again. This time he traced the water to a hole in the ceiling. Paolo Motta rushed upstairs, broke into the room above, found one of his popular bride’s disgruntled suitors standing over the hole with a pitcher of water.


In Salinas, Calif., a retired physician, Dr. Jaime De Angulo, 54, pleaded guilty to a charge of grand larceny, was sentenced to a year in jail. He asked to be put on probation instead, because he was a claustrophobe. The plea was granted.

Peanut Vendor

Citizens of Montgomery, Ala. noticed an old, blind Negro peanut vendor with an unusual line of sales talk: “Get yo’ fresh parched peanuts, 5¢ a bag. Now don’t you WTA workers be bashful, I’se got a special discount rate on for you all. Po’ boys, we all know you all can’t make no livin’.”


In New Orleans, Cub Reporter James Aldige came upon three men holding up a messenger boy in an alley. Fists flying, James Aldige jumped in, captured one bandit, forced the others to flee. Then he dragged his captive to a telephone while he called the police. They caught the other two. Few hours later, when James Aldige’s city editor read about this adventure in a rival paper, asked why James Aldige had not reported it, he replied: “I didn’t think it was a story.”

Dainty Diction

In the New York World’s Fair grounds at Flushing Meadow Park, L. I., Dr. Wralter O. Robinson of Brooklyn’s St. John’s University held the first of a series of classes for Fair attendants in “pleasing and effective speech.” His aim: “It is not our purpose to make orators of these people, but rather to teach all who shall have a share in publicizing the World’s Fair to speak effectively in language as nearly as possible free from defects.”


In Reading, Pa., Civil War Veteran John (“Hollerin’ Johnny”) Wells celebrated his 100th birthday, gave his explanation of why he was still alive: the fact that he “ran like blazes at the second battle of Bull Run.”


In Roskilde, near Copenhagen, the Danish Army planned to black out the town for three nights during antiaircraft maneuvers. Businessmen grumbled. Pacifists took direct action, bought up all the fireworks in town, planned to set them off and march in torchlight parades to “lighten the dark nights.”


In Philadelohia, Patrolman William Massa, 38, who has delivered 14 babies without losing one, delivered his 15th, asked the city to provide him with some obstetrical equipment.


In Baltimore, Ambrose J. Kennedy, Democratic candidate for U. S. Representative from Maryland, was making a political speech in the Thomas Jefferson Club’s hall, which has a seating capacity of 200. One hundred and ninety-nine seats were filled. Suddenly a heavy electric light globe plopped down from the ceiling, hit the one vacant seat.


In Cross Plains, Texas, Dr. J. Henry McGowen, a dentist, posted a dollar bill, attached by paper clips to a prepaid post card, to the circulation department of Chicago’s Radio News for six months’ subscription. Few days later the post card was delivered, the money still attached.

$1,500 Hunt

In Brighton, Mass., Joseph V. Harkins took home 15 $100 bills, receipts from his jewelry store. He slipped the money in a telephone book to hide it. Few days later a telephone employe delivered a new telephone book, took away the old. When he discovered his loss, harried Mr. Harkins set to work with his family looking through 100,000 discarded telephone books. Five days later they found the money in the 75,000th.


In Ossining, N. Y., Village President Howard Dunscomb, a rock-ribbed Republican for 35 years, announced that he had seceded from the Republican Party. Reason: For three years he asked the Republican county clerk for low-numbered license plates, never once got them.

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