Baptism

In Fort Worth, Tex., one W. D. May, mail robber and murderer, marched out of his death cell. Beside him, Rev. Aimer Kelly intoned Biblical texts. At the prison washhouse, the procession stopped. Said May: "I've accepted Christ. I'm a changed man." Into a bathtub of cold water he wedged himself. Down under the water Mr. Kelly shoved his head. Said Mr. Kelly: "I baptize thee in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost." Up came Murderer May, prepared to meet his death and his God.

Cat

Near Klagenfurt, Austria. Peter Sussbauer blared his horn at a prim black cat mincing across the road in front of his car. The cat swelled its tail, arched its back, crouched, hissed, sprang from ground to running board, to door, to steering wheel, to Peter Sussbauer. Badly scratched and bitten around the neck, Motorist Sussbauer was hospitalized.

Miss

In Thomaston, Me., while spectators applauded and workmen cheered. May Gould, 20, daughter of Albert Gould, Boston admiralty lawyer, swooped a bottle of champagne down at the bow of her father's new yacht, missed. Down the greased ways slid the unchristened schooner. Slipping, skating, skidding behind it, trim in starched linen suit and white hat, plunged May Gould into the icy water. One hundred yards out in the bay, the champagne bottle slipped out of her hand. Three hundred yards out, she caught up with the yacht, grabbed her bottle as it bobbed by, smashed it on the bow at the waterline, spit out a mouthful of salt water, choked "I christen thee Segochet."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.