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joint in an accident 12 years before. He pulled the trigger of an "unloaded" gun and shot off what was left of the same digit.
Firemen of Kankakee, Illinois, who had assembled boats and grappling hooks on the banks of Soldier Creek, were annoyed by the attention of a nine-year-old boy who was letting his intense interest interfere with the fire men's work.
"What you doin'?" he asked.
"Don't bother us, sonny," a fireman replied. "We're looking for a little boy who was drowned."
"What was his name?" persisted the boy.
"Adrian Lavine," said the fireman. "Now run along and let me alone."
"All right," said the boy reluctantly. "But it's pretty silly to keep on looking in that creek for me!"
And then there was Whitey Long of Elk City, Oklahoma, who has good reason to fear he's becoming absent' minded. First, he forgot to bring along a piece of punk when he started his Fourth of July celebration. So he lighted a firecracker with his ciga' rette. Then he tossed away the cigarette and stuck the firecracker in his
Swiny January-February, 1950
mouth. It didn't satisfy. It blew out two of his teeth.
Bob Forde, strolling along in Marys' ville, California, wondered why the two men approaching him were walk' ing so far apart. It wasn't neighborly. Mr. Forde decided to go between them. By the time he discovered they were carrying a big sheet of the new invisible glass, it was too late. He de' scribes the experience as painful.
A rapid, amazing chain of events transpired when driver Lloyd Wat' son's truck skidded over an embankment near Marysville, Kentucky, last April. Mr. Watson jumped to safety, but the truck rolled several hundred feet and knocked two houses off their foundations. They caught fire from burning gasoline as the truck exploded. The shock of the crash, and the excitement of the fire, attracted no less a celebrity than the Stork himself, and a woman living in one of the houses promptly gave birth to an eight-pound boy.
It's 1950 now, but there's no reason to believe the chain of freak accidents has ended. Better think twice before lighting your gas furnace with a blowtorch— it might not be funny.
Sir John Lavery, the famous painter, tells of an old Scottish gardener who went to an exhibition of pictures in London. The old man intently surveyed one picture labeled "The Fall" until asked what he thought of it.
"I think no great great things of it," was the reply. "Eve is tempting Adam wf an apple of a variety that wasna known till aboot 20 years ago."
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The fact that this civilization survives makes us wonder more and> more what could have destroyed the old ones.
All the bone in some folks' spinal columns seems to be lumped at the
top.
Many a girl marries a night owl in the hope that he'll turn out to be a homing pigeon.