Cupid's Coupons. Oscar F. Soule, chairman of the Syracuse, N.Y. county rationing board, persuaded a young soldier and his bride-to-be that the board's authorization for their marriage was not required.

Personnel Relations. Mrs. William Burns of Newark advertised desperately for a maid, offered her the use of a mink coat on her days off, got a maid all right--after receiving 600 phone calls in two days.

New Yorkese. Bobby Zaratarro, 5, Manhattan "King of Health," was asked what he ate. Said the King: "I eat fast."

What's in a Name? On the grounds that parents had no right to give their children absurd names, Judge Tobal of the Buenos Aires Criminal Court fined two parents who named theirs Zoroaster and Jupiter, let off two who named theirs Floreal and Oreste.

Fair Warning. In Washington, D.C., Percy L. Greaves Jr. advertised the housing needs of a "Republican Family Here to Stay."

Survivor. Joseph Gregorcsek complained to a Chicago divorce court that his wife, Mary, had beaten him several times. Carnivals bill him as the "man who hangs himself and lives to tell the tale."

Lore. In New Guinea, Sergeant Jack Percy of Los Angeles saw an officer in the next tent drinking out of a canteen marked "JP-USA-AEF," identified it as the one he used in France in 1917.

Incubation. Releasing Harvey McKinney from a year's jail term for the theft of a hen and her eggs, the Court of Appeals in Frankfort, Ky. ruled that it was a misdemeanor but no felony, that the lower court "did . . . count chickens before they hatched."

Invasion. A British golf magazine, referring to it as a monstrous act, asked discipline for a young officer who had chosen the Sandwich Golf Course greens as mortar targets.

Provider. The will of Sea Captain William Jensen of Bayonne, N.J. provided $500 so that his friends might be "liberally supplied with liquid refreshments and a hot dance band."

Zoot Suit. A secret session of Indianapolis judges, called by Judge Emsley Johnson Jr., set aside a plea that they wear gay, floral-patterned robes.

No More. In Orono, Me., the Walton House closed its doors after a century of service; the owner's name was Mealus, the last guest's was Finis.

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