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f
Teachers are supposed to
know all the answers — and most
of the questions, too. That's
why Eve is so well qualified, for
as radio's Miss Brooks —
and the mother of two — she
gets plenty of practice
By EVE ARDEN
In character: the object of Miss Brooks' affection, whether he knows it or not — and osnally he doesn't — is Madison High's biology teacher, Mr. Boynton (played by Jeff Chandler).
i
So I'm a school teacher! Once a week, as Miss Brooks — who is sort of America's answer, in slang, to England's Mr. Chips — I survive the calamities of pedagogy. Because my writers are resourceful, I sometimes emerge from a classroom encotmter in jaunty triumph.
Those writers, and my audiences, should see me at home.
Last week my elder daughter, Miss Liza — aged four and a half — came to me with a problem. "Mommy, what is light?" she inquired in the casual tone of one who is about to hear a simple, vivid answer.
I gave it some thought. What is light? Well, it should be easy . . . light is what the sun sheds on the earth.
"But, Mommy, it's light sometimes when the sun doesn't shine — like when it rains."
The sun is still shining, of course, just behind the clouds, darling.
"But after we've seen the sun go down, it is still light for a little while. What makes that?"
Reflection, of course. You see, the sun is still shin
ing against the curvature of the earth which acts as a . . .
"And then. Mommy, when it is perfectly dark outdoors, it is light in the house."
Ah, yes, my darling daughter, but the light in the house is caused by electricity. We turn it on at the wall switch, or with the little chain in the lamps, remember?
"Mommy, what is electricity?"
Mommy is going down for the third time, but she is game to the end. She says that once upon a time there was a man named Benjamin Franklin who tied a key to a silk cord and tied the silk cord to a kite. In the midst of a Ughtning storm. . . .
Whereupon my daughter, always a genius at non sequitur, turned a cherubic smile upon me as she asked, "Mommy, what means Dixieland?"
"Dixieland is a place," I said with decision, "just west of the rising sun and just south of total chaos. It is a place where mint grows on silver glasses, where it is not corny to be a colonel, and where Jack Benny keeps Phil Harris between Sundays." {Continued on page 74)
Our Miss Brooks, with Eve Arden, can b« heard on Sunday evenings at 6:30 EDT over CBS stations.
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