A hat-wearing gentleman was on his ship when a gust of wind blew his hat off his head, tossing it on the sea. The waves carried it afar. Weeks later, a fisherman angled the hat from the river. He put it on his bald head and thanked God for it.

Edward had been the perfect best man. He smiled and laughed, ordered the photographers, made the toast, led the dance, cut the cake, been everywhere and done everything. Now alone in his shadowy balcony, he tore to pieces the newlyweds' wedding picture, keeping only the bride's portrait, which he kissed.

Grandpa Tom went jogging in the park. His feet were swift, his shoulders high, his eyes bright. He sped past fat young men who barely dragged their feet. When he noticed his shoelaces were undone, grandpa Tom stooped, and tied them. He could not straighten himself up. 'Help!' he cried.