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On ^looulight Bay gives Beory and Smudge a tussle. The poodies will come along to the. MeiCners new nouse.
■ Once upon a time — oh, maybe more than a year ago — a boy and girl were "Vfindow shopping on an early spring evening. The\' strolled and stopped, and strolled and stopped and, ever>once in a while, they saw something that was worthy of particiolar attention. There was, for instance, a pickled pine early American breakfront with many drawers, and shelves and intricately designed glass doors. It was a splendid antique, mellow and rich looking.
The boy and girl stared at the breakfront for a long time in silence. And he thought: "It ought to be between the windows in the dining room, of course. Spode china on the shelves and four small ceramic ducks. Mallards, maybe, on the counter. The right hand drawer would be just right for a few tools. A man has to have tools about to fix things."
And the girl thought; "It would just fit between the dining room windows. Crystal on the shelves and a long, old fashioned lace runner on the counter. Maybe there'd be someplace in it for some of his tools. Men never use them, but they're idiots for tools."
After a while the boy and girl walked on. Window shopping, that's all, but they were engaged. Neither one said anything about love, or engagement, or marriage. But no boy and girl were ever more engaged. Often it happens that way. Even if the girl is Doris Day, a movie star, and the boy is Marty Melcher, a famous Holl>'Vi'ood agent. Together, they look into a store window and begin furnishing a home in which they know they wiU Uve together.
Just a month or so ago, Marty (Continued on page 73)