Radio mirror (Jan-June 1947)

TWO ROWS OF STITCHES SIDE-WAY FINISH STITCH fi/eu/f improved! NOW ONLY §|qo N0TH/N6 l/KE /T! FOUR LONG STITCHES Dam TO PAD BUTTON HOLE Stockings, Mend Tears, Attach lippers and Sew On Buttons, too! Once dreaded by every woman, now button hole making becomes as easy as basting a hem with this sensational new invention! You'll get twice as neat results in half the time, too! Fits any sewing machine . . . attaches in a moment. Simple to operate. Comescomplete with hoop for darning stockings, a button hole guide and easy directions in picture. Test at our risk now and realize a new thrill in sewing. FREE NEEDLE THREADER. As a gift for prompt action, you win receive with your order the marvelous time-saving, eye-saving needle threader. Don't wait but send your name today. SEND NO MONEY ORDER NOW. Just send your name and when you receive your new improved button hole, attachment and gift needle threader, deposit only $1.00 plus C.O.D. charges thru postman. Do this on the guarantee that if you aren't delighted in every way, you may return purchase for full refund. Or send cash with order, we pay postage. Special . . . 3 for $2.50 NOW . . . Mail your name and address to LONDON SPECIALTIES, DepL S-A7, 8505 S. Phillips, Chicago 17.111, BRUSH AWAY GRAY HAIR ...AND LOOK 10 YEARS YOUNGER • Now, at home, you can quickly tint telltale gray to natural-appearing shack's — trom lightest blonde to darkest black. Brownatone and a small brush does it — or your money back. Approved by thousands — Brownatone is guaranteed harmless when used as directed. No skin test needed. The principal coloring agent is a purely vegetable derivative with Iron and copper salts added lor fast action. Cannot affect waving ol hair. Lasting — does not wash out. Just brush or comb it in. One application imparts desired color. Simply retouch, as new gray appears. Easy to prove on a test lock of your hair. 60c and 51.65 at druggists. Get BROWNATONE now, or Write for FREE TEST BOTTLE Mention natural color of your hair. Send a post card today— BROWNATONE, Dept. 281, COVINGTON, KY. "PAID FOR HOME ...FROM m A WEEK a WITH BOARD" K J Mrs. M.A.S., Benton, III I Ambitious and energetic, ■ Mrs. M.A.S. learned how ! to be a trained, practical ' nurse through the physi i eian-endorsed home-study | methods of the Chicago School of Nursing. ~j she has steady income, doing work she loves. ■ 1 High School Not Required. Whether you're 18 | | or 60 — you can benefit, as have thousands of men | I and women, by studying practical nursing at home ■ _ in your spare time. Nurses are always needed! _ !■ Nurse B.D.E. writes: "Have all the work I can ' 1 do at $35 a week." Lessons easily understood. I ^^ Earn while learning. Trial plan, easy payments. ^1 ^^ Equipment included. 48th year. Write today! ^^ CHICAGO SCHOOL OF NURSING Dept. 181,100 East Ohio Street, Chicago 11, 111. Please send free booklet and 16 sample lesson pages. own ing room opening" on an outdoor breakfast terrace, a musk room and den, and the master bedroom with two dressing rooms and two baths, all on the first floor. And there will be a second story nursery. "We have nothing constructive to offer yet," Dinah explains, "but we have plans." The nursery will be a child's suite, really, complete with miniature kitchen and bath, a sitting room with a view of the whole broad valley, a nurse's room and bath. Also on the second floor will be an office for Dinah's secretary. All of this is materializing with a speed which — in the present period of acute shortages — is nothing short of a miracle. "Nobody else could get materials, or workmen," Dinah brags. "But George did." That, of course, is Dinah's theme song. "George made it," "George did it," "George can do anything," are everrecurrent phrases around their house. GEORGE made most of the furniture, he built the tool house and a tractor shed — he even made a towel rack in the shape of an American Eagle, may the Good Lord forgive him (and the Lord may, since he claims it was not meant for the center of the mantelpiece where Dinah displays it, but for their ranch shack in Montana). Step by step, George is turning the white lines on the blueprints into the wood and plaster and stone of the finished structure, partly through the help of those of his ex-GI pals who are now in the building business, but largely through his own brain and muscle. George began, Dinah relates, by drawing up the plans himself. The big bedroom with the fireplace, two dressing rooms and two baths, was his idea. Dinah's idea of a kitchen, the cooking ell lined with copper plating, with two brick ovens and a charcoal grill was worked out by George's drafting pencil. When they got to the point of actual building — beginning with the conversion of the garage into a guest house spacious enough to be "home" over a period of months — George had to call in help. It came in the person of Johnny Hill, an Army friend of George's, who is a builder. Johnny's crew of carpenters, plumbers and electricians was booked up for months in advance — but because George was a good guy, an ex-GI like themselves, and also because George was not above turning a hand on the job himself, they agreed to work on George's house and push up another job. Dinah's part of the lure was the chow — outdoor barbecue lunches and suppers, from steak to watermelon, were forthcoming every time the work seemed to get monotonous. "Dinah is a wonderful cook, you know," George will tell you, getting in his two cents worth of praise. "I have to admit it," she is quick to reply. "I am a very good cook. Very good, indeed." "But a foul dishwasher," adds George, backing up. The house, like Topsy, "just growed." First, of course, came the guest house — because "we gotta have a place to sleep." Then — because "we gotta have a place to put the cars" — a port cochere. (The Montgomery s, now that they're ranchers, have a spanking new Ford station wagon.) Third— because "we gotta have a place for our tools" — George's workshop. There, George and Johnny Hill and the rest of the crew keep their supplies and equipment. There, also, George builds the beautiful pieces of furniture, early American and provincial in design, intricately modeled and turned (and the towel racks which look like eagles and the picture frames etched with pine trees) which will furnish the house when it is complete. "We got the workshop right away, you see," Dinah remarks, pointedly. "That's George's hobby. But where's my dark room? There isn't even a place in the plans for it. The basement is going to be the freeze room. Too cold. The barn is going to be full of hay. Too inflammable. The nursery is going to be full of babies — we hope. No dark room." Dinah considers herself — with justification which shows up in her negatives, both color film and black and white — a first-class photographer. She was never so angry as the time a national magazine used her photographs of her European USO tour with Bing Crosby without the credit line, "Photographs by Dinah Shore." She fully expected the first room planned for the new house would be a scientifically designed dark room — so far they have finished one guest house, one car port, one workshop, one swimming pool, one tennis court, one barbecue house. (One towel rack — American Eagle design.) Under construction are the ten new rooms of the one-time one-room house, but not one of them is a dark room. Dinah — she pretends — is very sore. SOMETIMES the building progresses in big leaps. When Dinah left last summer to spend five weeks in personal appearances in the East, nothing had been added to the main house but the basement. No workmen were engaged, nor material in prospect. No relief was in sight from a situation in which Dinah's priceless Meissen China was getting chipped, her copper kitchen utensils tarnished, her linens ruined, and her expensive theatrical evening gowns faded because of lack of closets. When she returned, the whole superstructure of the house was up. George and Johnny and his crew had really pushed the job. With luck and good weather, there should be a house to live in at Five Oaks before Christmas. Dinah hopes so. It is not that she minds roughing it. What does she care about dust and wood shavings, she says, when she can get up at six o'clock in the morning and watch the stark mountains turn red in the sunrise and feed Bantam hens their breakfast, and sit under a spreading live oak tree and purr while her handsome, brilliant (to say nothing of his being useful) husband sees to it that their paper house comes alive in sticks and stones. Dinah could stand the mess forever — didn't George make it? — but nobody else can. Including cooks, who rebel at the cramped quarters, laundresses, who object to running a washing machine in the middle of a business office, and secretaries, who find it equally disturbing to have to file important letters in boxes on the floor, and type contracts on the top of the ironer. "I like to cook," Dinah explains, "and I don't mind ironing. "But," she adds, wistfully, "I hate to come indoors." Indoors, away from the sound of hammers, from the view of the mountains. Oh, let's face it: away from George.