Modern Screen (Jul-Dec 1946)

routine expected of young fathers. It wasn't that way at all. For one thing, :he suspense was crowded into half an hour. Instead of pacing, bumping and wayay ing, he sat in a kind of rigid misery, as if he were made of glass and any movement might break him. . . . He saw Judy's mother step into the hall and wondered dimly why. He hadn't heard what she'd heard — the voice of the family doctor who'd watched the operation. They came in together, and Vincent stood up, eyes riveted on the doctor — "You have a very pretty daughter — " His mouth opened, but nothing came out. He tried again. "Is Judy all right?" "Judy's fine — " The ice cracked, and warmth started flowing back. A nurse came in. The obstetrician came in. Everyone kept saying how pretty the baby was. That's right, he had a baby — a little girl — "Kind of a dirty trick," he found himself thinking. 'I got what I wanted, and Judy didn't — " Then they were putting him into a hospital coat, and he was following Mrs. Garland into a room, and there was his baby — twenty minutes old, and tiny hands waving around like a couple of starfish. He stood looking down, trying to guard his emotions — "Well," prodded the nurse, "isn't she beautiful?" "I don't know," he whispered in helpless awe. "But I didn't expect her to look so finished — " baby talk . . . Within twenty-four hours, Judy turned into the demon mother. If you wanted to talk about anything but the baby, you could go talk to somebody else. But her big campaign was the one to get herself home. Keeping her at the hospital was an organized conspiracy on the part of all concerned. "Why can't I go? Why can't they take me in an ambulance and we'll get a hospital bed — ?" "Because the doctor wants you here — " "What jor? I've had my baby. That's what I came for. What's the sense of sticking around here now — ?" The doctor refused to lop off a minute. The time passed, however, as time has a way of doing, ushering in the day that took Judy and Liza home. Mrs. Garland rode in the ambulance with them, Miss Cameron met them at the door, and Vincent had the house filled with flowers. That night they dined in Judy's room. "Vincent — remember the night I woke up and said, 'How about Liza?'" Vincent remembered. "Then it was only a name. Now she's downstairs, in her bassinet." "So they say. Judy, do you believe it?" She nodded vigorously. "But just to make sure, go down and take a look — " That she has the most wonderful baby in the world goes without saying. When Vincent gets home at night, he follows the strange sounds he hears to the nursery, and there finds his wife and Miss Cameron squealing like girls making fudge. But the two golden hours of Judy's day are before Liza's mealtimes, when she has the baby all to herself, to croon over and play with and sing to. There's one song that's special. Bing Crosby sang it to Barry Fitzgerald in "Going My Way," but before that Judy's father — who died when she was 12 — used to sing it to her — "Toora-loora-loora, "Toora-loora-li — "Toora-loora-loora, "That's an Irish lullaby—" Looking into her daughter's soft dark eyes, Judy hears another voice singing, and feels strong arms holding her, as her arms now hold a baby of her own. Liza stares solemnly back, and Judy smiles — "He'd have liked you," she says. '" Bou<iuet ^JZ* Here's the right Cashmere Bouquet shade for you! FOR LIGHT TYPES Natural, Rachel No. 1 Rachel No. 2 FOR MEDIUM TYPES Rachel No. 2, *Rose Brunette FOR DARK TYPES *Rose Brunette, Even Tan Famous artist, Coby Whitoiore, shows how subtle brunette skin tones come alive with original* ff Flower-fresh" shade of Cashmere Bouquet Face Powder How can a brunette become more beautiful? Here's hoiv: apply Rose Brunette, an exciting new "Flower-fresh" shade of Cashmere Bouquet Face Powder. A joyous shade to brighten your brunette coloring. And do see how this smooth, smooth face powder masks your skin with a silk-like finish. It veils tiny blemishes, clings for hours on end. There are other "Flower-fresh" shades of Cashmere Bouquet to complement every complexion. Ml 67