In Greenwich, Conn., a small boy fired a pistol at a bird on a branch, missed. The bullet passed through a hotel window screen, was halted by the corset of a Mrs. William O. Remsen, guest.

Shocks

In Chicago, Electrician John Joyce, 40, at work on a dynamo, asked his longtime friend, Electrician Steve Noble, 51, to hand him a file. Electrician Noble did not answer. He had touched a live connection, was dead. Electrician Joyce watched while the body was removed, then left the building, walked two blocks, fell dead.

Burglar

In Boston, Mrs. James F. Norris, wife of a professor at Massachusetts Institute of Technology, entered her home, found the living room topsy-turvy, her husband's bedroom locked. She called police who broke open the bedroom door. On Prof. Norm's bed lay John Broderick, burglar, with an open volume of Shakespeare and two empty quart bottles of 1911 Green River whisky.

Funny Fire

One evening last week in Gillingham, England, thousands of citizens trooped gaily to the city park to witness a traditional absurdity--"the realistic spectacle of a house on fire with thrilling rescues" --staged for the benefit of the Gillingham Hospital.

A dummy three-story building had been made of wood and canvas. Inside were gathered ten young naval cadets, several of them dressed as clowns, and four firemen, two of whom impersonated a bride and groom. They played comic parts in the various rooms, waiting for the red lights which would cause the building to seem on fire. They would then be "res-cued" by the fire company's expert ladder-work. Next the building would be set really ablaze, to display the fire company's hose-work.

In the darkness the audience grew impatient. Children squirmed and complained. Suddenly the building emitted jets and twists of flame, illumined the landscape. The effect was uncannily real. The crowd cheered and applauded. In an upper window the mock bride and groom looked funny as they gesticulated for help. The crowd roared heartily. Amid soaring flames, the clownish occupants of the building cut excited, silly capers. When the searchlight operator turned his beam on the blazing roof, he revealed what looked like a charred corpse. Nervous, delighted, the crowd's amusement increased.

Waves of heat rolled out over the park. Firemen rushed toward the house. Bodies began dropping like torches from the upper stories. Shrieks sounded from the audience, from the building. Frantic women lunged toward the blaze. A real cigaret had lit a real fire in the gasoline-soaked building too soon. Fourteen "actors" died.