Modern Screen (Jan-Jun 1945)

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Please send me your free booklet on Psoriasis. NAME_ ADDRESS_ i CITY _Z0NE_ _STATE_ gasped for breath. Then he sprang to the nearest telephone, checked on railroad schedules and made reservations. Locating Benny, Dick explained the situation. Benny had promised that Dick could join Joanne as soon as necessary, but he didn't think there was much rush. "We've advertised you at a couple of spots during the next few days, so I think you'd better stick around," he said. "Sorry, but I can't do that," said Dick, and caught his train. babbling father . . . Having antagonized his employer and tossed up his job, Dick forthwith antagonized the nurse at the hospital. First he hurried in to see Joanne, who was a very sick girl. She gave him a big grin and said, "Wait until you see Skippy. He looks exactly like you." So Dick hurried back to the nursery to check his heir. The nurse, busy as all nurses are, caught up Master Haymes from his basket, whisked him to the door, said, "Perfectly normal, perfectly healthy baby," held back the blanket for ten seconds, then turned to go. Dick extended a restraining hand that settled on the nurse's arm. "Just a minute, please," he commanded. The nurse was ready to explode in incendiary sentences, scattering hot little words over the scene . . . until she caught sight of Dick's eyes. He was looking at the sleeping pink mite in her arms, and great shining tears glazed the father's proud eyes and started down his cheeks. With the back of his fist he mopped them away. Naturally, he hadn't told Joanne that he was out of a job. When she quizzed him, Dick said that Benny had given him two weeks off. Between trips twice a day to the hospital, Dick went scurrying around in search of another job. He was booked in Philadelphia on a singing date which paid very well. It took him away from Joanne and Skippy for two days, but it put some jingle in his jeans . . . momentarily. The next time he walked into the hospital room, he was carrying an important jeweler's box that he nonchalantly set down on the bedside stand. Joanne grabbed it with a little chortle of delight and tore off the wrappings. A strand of pearls shone from the black velvet depths of the box. "For me?" squealed Joanne. Dick didn't answer that masterpiece of nonsensical interrogation. He simply beamed on his pretty wife. The day Dick took his family home from the hospital, he was able to tell Joanne about his severance of relations with the Goodman combo and to announce with a proud chest that he was set with T. Dorsey. The only trouble being that Dorsey was going to California to work in Metro's "Du Barry Was a Lady" by day, and to play at the Palladium by night. "I'll find an apartment," Dick promised, "and then you and Skippy can join me just as soon as you're well enough to travel." In just six weeks, Joanne and Skippy were on The Chief, scorching the Santa Fe trail toward Hollywood. Anyone who has traveled with a child will utter a small sigh of commiseration for Joanne at this point. Add to the usual difficulties the fact that Mister Skippy was having a minor spell of colic; he wasn't sure that he liked his formula, and he was positive that he didn't like traveling. Joanne had to walk through twenty-three Pullman coaches to get to the diner where the bottles could be heated. She always carried the cylindrical glass dinners wrapped in paper bags for purposes of sterilization, which explains why the three handsome ensigns didn't realize that she was a mother. Whenever she went through their car, they made with the big eye, they