Just before 12 o’clock word was telephoned the police station that a woman was walking about the streets, talking to herself and making a nuisance in general. Officers Calwell and Lamontagne were sent out to find her and discovered the woman near the Pine St. Free Baptist Church, barefooted, hatless and with what clothes she had nearly off. What was their surprise when they came under an electric light to find out that the woman was George Noland, better known as “Rosie,” back at his old stunt of dressing up in women’s clothes, with a glorious jag on. This morning he will be arraigned on the charge of intoxication.

50 Years Ago, 1956

Toronto’s tax assessors are flunking arithmetic exams. Assessment Commissioner A. J. B. Gray introduced the tests for applicants for promotion. Now he wants to drop them because “too many good men are failing and too many poor ones passing.”

Afternoon temperatures in the Twin Cities were pleasant, but the overnight mercury reading tied the record low mark for the date. It dropped to 35 at 5 a.m. to match the record set in 1947. The sun beat against the thermometer throughout the day and by 4 p.m. the mercury registered 64. At midnight it was 44.

25 Years ago, 1981

They’re consultants in canary yellow. Disposable and indispensable. And they keep confidences. President Reagan finds them good listeners. Gary Trudeau bounces ideas for “Doonesbury” off them. Richard Nixon turned to one when he decided to resign. More than just an office supply, yellow legal pads are tight-lipped companions. They carry the musings of presidents and criminals, coaches and cartoonists. They are mirrors of the mind – a place to unfurl ideas for private viewing. Three of the ubiquitous pads are born every second. Americans use 100 million a year – a stack that would rise 300 miles. Uncle Sam buys 7.2 million a year for executive offices around the world. The Senate buys 72,000; the House 92,000.