Family Portrait. In Saskatoon, Sask., the Star-Phoenix carried this want ad: "Carpenter who smokes, drinks, and spits on the floor, 2 children . . . who write on walls and chop up floors, wife no better, desires to rent a house . . ."

Double Role. In Los Angeles, visiting city court. Patrolman Paul B. Le Page spotted a familiar face, collared Juror Garrison Harris, whose own trial for grand theft was scheduled for the following week.

Man of Experience. In Richmond, police finally caught up with Escaped Convict Jack Ronald Curtis, learned that he had become a private detective, been assigned to guard a local tobacco plant safe.

Die Lorelei. In Middletown, Conn., asked why he took a plunge into the Connecticut River, William Hartman told police: "Mermaids called me. Gosh, they were beautiful."

Trail Blazer. In Kansas City, Mo., cops had no trouble following the trail of Earl Dean Thompson, 32, who heaved a hammer through a plate-glass store window, rammed his auto into a parked car, veered off and jumped the curb, struck two trees, drove back onto the street, smashed into a corner stoplight.

The Hard Way. In Los Angeles, after police refused to admit him to the city jail, Raymond Tanori smashed a liquor-store window, was duly arrested, given 30 days behind bars.

Life with Mother. In Memphis, after his wife told him she was just going to the movies, Lawyer Daniel G. Hanrahan started checking up, finally found her at St. Joseph's Hospital about to give birth to their seventh child, a son.

Traveling Man. In Portland, Ore., missing from home for a day and a half, eight-year-old Richard Warwick was finally found several miles away when he pedaled a pilfered tricycle up to the Maynard Motel, flashed a $26 bankroll, asked for a room for the night.

Threat. In Charlotte, N.C., the Colonel Charles Young American Legion Post Drum and Bugle Corps announced that unless a few buglers showed up for practice, it was going to change its name to the Colonel Charles Young American Legion Drum Corps.

Trade Note. In Baltimore, a panhandler confided to News-Post Columnist Louis Azrael the secret of his success: "The best approach . . . is to tell people I want some money for a drink. That gets sympathy, even when I don't really want a drink."

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