Miscellany, Jun. 27, 1949

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Zatrzymac. In Stamford, England, Jan Rogowski, accused of dangerous driving, explained to the court: "I saw the 'Halt' sign, but by the time I had translated the word into my own language [zatrzymac, Polish for halt], I was in the middle of the crossroad and had a collision."

Inventory. In Cleveland, Roy Kosabook, who had been thrice captured in burglary attempts and had served an 18-month reformatory sentence, grumbled to police who nabbed him the fourth time: "I just don't have it."

Off the Beam. In Omaha, John Staskiewicz, suing Ak-Sar-Ben race-track officials, charged that the beam of light from the electric camera at the finish line caused the horse he was backing to bolt, lose the lead and finish third.

By Invitation. In Newark, Herman Arons asked the two men standing hesitantly outside his luggage store to come on in, then turned over $190 when one of them pulled a gun.

A Tall One. In Cincinnati, Mrs. Caroline Squire, suing for divorce, charged that her husband stepped out for a glass of beer on July 4, 1917 and had never come back.

For Example. In Winnipeg, Man., after he had finished writing a series of articles on pickpockets for the Winnipeg Tribune, Reporter Harold Miloff went to the police with a complaint: the material for his fourth article had been picked from his pocket.

Planned Project. In Kansas City, Mo., the thief who broke into the Flower House took $21 worth of grass seed and a $23 lawnmower.

Portia Faces Life. In St. Louis, Mrs. Lillian A. Shenker, serving her first day as provisional judge in City Court, explained why she had fined a man $50 for beating his wife but had dismissed the case of another man charged with cuffing his girl friend: "The wife . . . has to live with [her husband] and can't escape . . . but the other man had beaten his girl before and experience should have taught her what to expect . . ."

Loyalty Check. In Newark, Frank Churak explained why he had turned in a false fire alarm: he only wanted to see if his wife would stand by him when police arrived.

Closed Shop. In St. Louis, Mr. & Mrs. George H. Pring returned home in time to find a burglar leaving with $530 in cash and jewelry, asked how he got in and received a guarded reply: "That's a professional secret; if I tell you, you'll go out and rob houses."