Warning to wives: Here is one way your husband can get the last word.
By THORNTON DENNISON
"BENEATH this stone my wife doth lie; She's now at rest and so am I."
That epitaph is typical of the stony, stony truth some of our lusty forefathers dared to broadcast whenever they won the fifty-fifty bet with their wives that they would survive to have the last word.
His queer pleasures drove him to treason—and started a world war!
By STEFAN v. S. RUBELCU
THE APARTMENT was a decorator's dream, luxuriously tricked out with all kinds of feminine frills and heavy with the sickening sweet odors of perfume and incense. Almost daintily, the figure in the lush room touched a manicured finger to a baroque wooden floral decoration on the pearl-inlaid wall panelling. Noiselessly, a door slid open, disclosing a capacious closet crammed with obviously expensive female apparel.
Want to be a better crook? Harry the Hyp will help.
EVERYONE HAS HEARD some American tourists complain about being gypped by the natives in Europe, but now we give you a tourist who reversed the story. He bought a railway ticket at a station in Scotland and paid with a $50 bill.
She was imprisoned, beaten and twice carted off to a mental hospital—as a result of buying a TV set—that didn't work!
By SHARY O'HARA
I WAS THROWN INTO JAIL, beaten almost to death, and twice sent to a mental institution as insane—all because I bought a television set on installments.
This sounds fantastic, I know. But my hand trembles as I write this. I want to close my eyes and cry a five-week nightmare from my mind. But I must tell my story to someone—to someone who may have forgotten that a citizen's rights are the most precious, most wonderful rights in the world.
Retired generals and admirals cozy up to their old buddies to swing billions of dollars in defense contracts!
By FRANK DEGNAN
LAST JULY, three of the largest defense contractors in the nation readied plans to entertain Air Force Lt. General Bernard S. Schriever, head of the Air Research and Development Command. Party invitations described the affair as cocktails and dinner with an off-the-record chat by General Schriever about his plans and problems.
Want to make a buck in the market? You can be bilked of your dough.
By SIMON LEE GARTH
IN AN upstairs bedroom a woman lay dying of cancer. Downstairs in the living room her husband was talking business in low tones with a distinguished-looking stranger.
The stranger was Joseph H. Schoenberger, 70, and every inch of his well-groomed appearance suggested the prosperous, sincere businessman, the pillar of the community.
Their business completed, Schoenberger suggested, "Let us now bow our heads for a few moments in silent prayer for your afflicted wife."