Grab

In Jamaica, N. Y., one Lawrence Grenbaum got drunk, crawled out on a roof, slipped, grabbed the edge of the roof with his hands and chin. There he hung until he died. Policemen found his body several hours later, still hanging from the roof, suspended by his stiff fingers.

Will

In Dallas, Tex., Vincent Kerens, bond broker, received $1,900,000 last week because he, "of his own free will and desire, has passed five consecutive years of sobriety and good behaviour." These terms had been laid down by the will of his father, diplomat, railroader, who died in 1916.

Yawn

In Brooklyn, N. Y., one Nettie Friedman found a seat on a subway train, one afternoon last week. It was hot (84DEG F.) and fetid. People yawned and wagged their heads drowsily. Miss Friedman yawned. Nobody noticed anything wrong about her. At the end of ten minutes, she was still engaged in the same yawn, with her tongue hanging out a little farther. The lower part of her face and jaw were paralyzed. Several subway folk tried to help her, failed, then carried her off the train and called an ambulance. At the Jewish Hospital, a doctor massaged her face, brought her out of the yawn which had lasted 30 minutes.

Wad

At Rye, N. Y., George W. Button Jr., of Manhattan and Darien, Conn., was master of ceremonies at a seaplane and motorboat regatta last week. He stood on the dock, signalled for the start, uttered a cry of sudden pain. A burning wad from the little brass cannon, used as a starting gun, had penetrated his left leg to a depth of one inch.

Pet Monkeys

At Hicksville, N. Y., last fortnight, Nathan L. Miller, onetime Governor of New York, famed attorney for the U. S. Steel Corp., successfully defended a butler for shooting a monkey (TIME, July 16).

Last week, in Colorado Springs, a jury decided that the Broadmoor Hotel should pay $10,000 to one Malcolm McConnell. In that hotel, a monstrous monkey had bitten him on the nose.

Golf Hawk

In Wildwood, N. J., a fish hawk whose nest was near the Country Club fell intc the habit "of soaring low over the golf links and clutching up a white ball now and then. Flapping slowly back to its nest, it would add the balls to a growing collection and sit on them, content. Perhaps it was the sport of capturing; perhaps the instinct for collecting (as crows and magpies will collect shiny or sparkling trash).

But the Wildwood golfers were not amused. They caused the golf hawk's capture and petitioned their directors to destroy both bird and nest. It was then that this flatland fable became historical.

News of the golf hawk's danger came to grey, wrinkled Clement Lawrence Shaver of West Virginia. Mr. Shaver had just been superseded as Chairman of the Democratic National Committee after four thankless years in that office (see p. 7). His mind was free, his troubles over. He felt, no matter what Mrs. Shaver might say about Democratic iniquities, at peace with his fellow creatures. He sent a telegram to the directors of the Wildwood Club, saying: "Fortunate indeed is the golf course which can claim the honor of a great bird that can outbid the game in interest. Millions of Americans have never seen a fish hawk. In the interest of all these and all outdoor lovers, including those who fill your course, spare this bird, spare its nest."

The golf-hawk was pardoned.

Less fortunate than the Wildwood osprey were the grackles of Mount Vernon, N. Y. Lacking a mediator, these birds, noisy, gregarious, were last week slaughtered in hundreds by police shotguns to please Mount Vernon slugabeds.