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HANDY ADVICE ^ ARLBNE FRANCIS
"It's all in your hands/' says Arlene Francis, leading lady of famous Hinds "BLIND DATE" radio show
...EVERY MONDAY NIGHT— BLUE NETWORK
THE PERFECT MARRIAGE, UNTIL...
They were the Happy Couple who never had a cross word. She was a wonderful housekeeper . . . which started the trouble. For housework is one of the big causes of rough hands . . . but, unfortunately, not even the most loving husband likes rough hands!
NEGLECTED HANDSNEGLECTED WIFE
No man can warm up to red, dry, scratchy hands . . . and our Little Woman put in some bad days with a very large dent in her heart. Then she used her head to help her hands, and her heart took care of itself. She got Hinds Honey & Almond Fragrance Cream.
HINDS FOR "COME HITHER" HANDS
It wasn't long before her husband ran out of adjectives, trying to describe her soft, smooth, velvety hands. Hinds contains a special softening ingredient with a particular affinity for your skin. Make Hinds your passport to romance-inviting hands! Begin now.
You should know this about your hands
• Wind, weather, and hard water can take the natural oils from your skin; leave it rough, dry, and tender. Here's why you should turn to Hinds: Hinds supplies a softener to help out when the natural skin lubricant is depleted. So ...for petal-soft, smooth hands, use Hinds! Ask for Hinds today at any toilet-goods counter.
Copyright, 1945, by Lehn & Fink Products Corporation, Bloomfield, N. J.
Jot chapgf '
_for children's tender skin
-for dry skin
HINDS A HANDS
NOTION OR NUTTIN' !
(Continued from page 41)
As for bounding Betty, it was new experience enough just getting whammed away at like a lady duck. But by that time Hutton was already hep to a flock of new delights and dangers which her little head had never dreamed about 'way back in cozy, comfy Hollywood.
Like, for instance, giving out with the glamour in spooky jungle clearings while tropic skies emptied buckets of rain on her famous figure. Like crooning and hoofing to the grim rat-a-rat of Yank rifles knocking off nearby Nips. Like snatching beauty sleeps on steel floors of bumpy cargo planes and in mud-mired pup tents. Like tripping to the powder room under escorts of MP's so a sniper wouldn't wing her, and watching Marines solemnly tub out her pink unmentionables. Like getting introduced to 105 degree dysentery fever, living on Spam and raisins, watching her clothes rot right off her fair body and sweating out eight steamy weeks without a bath. Like getting tagged a white goddess by awe-struck savages and losing a ton of lipstick to a few thousand love-hungry GI's who hadn't seen a white woman in months, let alone kissed one, and Betty Hutton at that.
When Betty got home, she'd traveled 50,000 miles by plane, boat, jeep amphtrack and what have you over the toughest front line circuit of them all, making stops no other Hollywood star had ever dared. She had felt the blast of bombs and heard the whine of bullets and smelt the smell of death. She'd trod the hallowed sands of Tarawa, Saipan, Guam, Kwajelein, Tinian and a couple dozen more spots of glorious Yank memory. And along the way she'd found the war job she'd asked for and done her derndest to give out what — Betty hoped — the boys could see in the way of chuckles and cheer.
stepchildren in the pacific . . .
Because her hot spot Pacific hops were strictly Betty Hutton's idea — or rather the idea she got from a few thousand ardent pen pals stranded out where the going's rough. "How about it, Hutton?" they wrote. "How's about a date?" And, "Saving a Jap for you, Baby. Come get him before he spoils."
Betty had only one question to ask the USO people, "Where do the boys need entertainment the most?"
"That's easy," they told her right off. "The Middle-Pacific. They've only had Bob Hope and Jack Benny over there, and they didn't make all the stops." They went on to explain that while European fighting fronts had already wallowed in the comparative entertainment heaven of some two or three hundred star tours, the rugged island clean-up guys were stepchildren, and they didn't like it. In fact, there had been complaints. But there were plenty of good reasons why: Distances were terrific, transportation was risky and rugged. Living conditions were terrible, wicked diseases all over the place, climate awful, and all the food canned. Besides, anywhere you went, you were likely to run smack into Japs. They were still all around, dug like moles in the ground and hanging like monkeys from the trees. "It's no place for a lady," they explained politely.
"Be careful who you call a lady," cracked Betty. "That's for me. When do I start?" They said any time and the sooner the quicker.
Well, there was a picture, of course. There's always a picture for Hutton these days, but this time Betty just up and said,