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Nelson Evening Mail, Volume LIV, Issue LIV, 16 October 1920, Page 10

America is sustaining j(s | roverbial reputation Inr ‘■pulling oil" character istic happenings, all ul which iho murage American greatiy adm.rcs,- espoualiy when such events are written up tfi tho cuslomary Americanoso style (writes our Kan Francisco corxespondont). .In Npw York, at Forty-fith street and Eighth avonne a horse, usually mild mannered and even-tem-pered, took umbrage at the -load of theatrical scenery they were piling on tho truck behind" hio back, and decided to got right away from .New York. He gained momentum all the way to Fortythird street, where he blithely upset two pedestrians who 'wove m his way, und who were carried to Kooseveit Memorial Hospital as a oonsoqueue, aim whizz-banged bis furious course south-ward-to Forty-second street, where a modern Hercules and Waterloo were waiting tor him. Enter Hob Dobson, as zealous a cub reporter ns ever graced a Hew York newspaper, and always—as good cub reporters should be—on tho look-out for excitement. Young Hr. Dorson. ns they all say, ‘‘took in the situation at. n glance.” He stood in the middle of the street and braced himself. Tho horse plunged, on, Hr. Dorson is built like a traffic ‘‘cop, ’ out he .scorns the accepted police method of stopping runaways, which is to seme the bridle or reins firmly, - and bring the animal to a gentle stop. He just naturally Hood there, and “uncorked a wallop,” the like of which was never before seen in Times, .Square, or anywhere else, save in the old Homan circuses. He planted his list squarely and 1 airly between the home's ‘lamps.' And the horse lay down, took a count of ten, and played dead till the traffic “cops” came, .sadly cut him out of his traces, and led him away, muttering to himself. This, it may ho said, is a. ■story' with a punch.