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Today we have Methodist derring-do and a scofflaw in Queens. Just wear the damn apron on…

May 28, 1921

• Madame Curie considers abandoning her tour of the United States, as the constant questions and small talk of her American admirers have left her completely exhausted.

• An army clerk is dismissed from his job and ridiculed as a “comma chaser” after higher-ups take exception to his satirical novel, “The Lair of the White Lion.”

• Mrs. Nott’s murder trial is again put on hold after the defendant’s tears disrupt the proceedings of the court.

• Searching an alleged speakeasy, police discover an entire store of liquor and glasses hidden beneath the skirt of the proprietor’s wife.

• Preparing to sail for Italy, Caruso is jolly as he inspects his $35,000 state room aboard the Presidente Wilson, admiring his piano and expressing his appreciation at the ton of pasta that has been laid on board for his party’s use.

• The Weather: Partly cloudy and somewhat warmer today; Sunday, cloudy; moderate south and southwest winds.

This minister’s heroics call to mind the Reverend U.O.L. Spracklin, a prohibition vigilante tried for manslaughter in the town of Sandwich. I am glad that, unlike Rev. Spracklin, Harmon was able to resolve his conflict without firing a shot.

HATTIESBURG, Miss., May 27.—Pistol in hand, the Rev. G.S. Harmon, a Methodist preacher stood off last night a masked mob intent on removing Casey E. Jones from the Methodist Hospital here.

Jones was wounded yesterday by J.S. Mosely after he had shot and dangerously wounded Mrs. Mosely. Dr. Harmon, Commissioner of the hospital, on learning that feeling was aroused against Jones, took his stand at the stair head. A number of masked men slipped into the building and demanded the prisoner.

“I am a Methodist preacher,” replied the clergyman, “in charge of this hospital and responsible for all in it. You dare not come up those steps unless you cross my dead body. Now shoot, if you dare. You may kill me, but you shall not come up those steps.”

The mob dispersed when officers arrived.

Last issue we learned of Magistrate Kochendorfer, who attempted to dismantle the patriarchy single-handedly. Did it work? Uh, well…no. Oh, and for those who were puzzled by the last issue’s description of two-piece 1920s bathing suits, scroll through the advertisements at the bottom of this newsletter for some striking examples of the style.

George Watson, the former Long Island railroad detective who lives at 126 Fifth Street, Long Island City, and who was sentenced on Wednesday to do a week’s turn at helping his wife with her household duties, yesterday ran away from the job. His wife, Margaret, was ready with a white apron for him to wear and a program of work for him to do. But Watson was not at home.

“Magistrate Kochendorfer’s rules for a husband are a failure thus far, so far as my husband is concerned,” said Mrs. Watson. “Last night he did not obey the Magistrate but he came home long after midnight. Then this morning when I expected that he might help me with the work he got up early and went out and I have not seen him since. He said he was going to look for a job.”

Mrs. Watson said she was looking about for some means to help herself. Prior to the action by Judge Kochendorfer she had applied to the moving picture companies in Long Island City for a place for her three-year-old daughter Elizabeth. The child is pretty with blue eyes and flaxen hair.

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