Radio Mirror (Nov 1936-Apr 1937)

RAD 10 MIRROR LVVritlieJ tvit/iHiin I Couldn't Even Tell My Doctor the Torture 1 Suffered!" WHAT agony Piles ! What they impose in pain, in mental distress, in loss of personal efficiency ! The sad part about this affliction is that, on account of the delicacy of the subject, many hesitate to seek relief. Yet there is nothing more liable to serious outcome than a bad case of Piles. REAL TREATMENT Real treatment for the relief of distress due to Piles is to be had today in Pazo Ointment. Pazo almost instantly stops the pain and itching. It is effective because it is threefold in effect. First, Pazo is soothing, which tends to relieve sore and inflamed parts. Second, it is lubricating, which tends to soften hard parts and also to make passage easy. Third, it is astringent, which tends to reduce swollen parts. Pazo is put up in Collapsible Tubes with special Pile Pipe, which is perforated. The perforated Pile Pipe makes it easy for you to apply the Ointment high up in the rectum where it can reach and thoroughly cover the affected parts. REAL COMFORT Pazo is now also put up in suppository form. Those who prefer suppositories will find Pazo the most satisfactory. All drug stores sell Pazo-in-Tubes and Pazo Suppositories, but a trial tube will be sent on request. Just mail coupon and enclose 10c (coin ot stamps) to help cover packing and postage. MAIL! Grove Laboratories, Inc. Dept. 28-MC, St. Louis, Mo. Gentlemen: Please send me trial tube Pazo. I enclose 1 Oc to help cover packing and postage. NAME ADDRESS CITY STATE. This offer is good in U. S. and Canada. Canadian . residents may write H. R. Madill & Co., M Welling J ton St., West, Toronto, Ont. A New Kind of Old Fashioned Marriage (Continued from page 35) always admired Mary for the fine and wonderful person that she is, I'd always treasured her sympathy and advice and friendship. She'd always meant a lot to me. I looked forward to seeing her. But ours wasn't a mutually expressed admiration until just five months before we announced our engagement. "Some writer once said that 'love occurs in one of two ways: either at first sight or in the gradual fusion of two natures.' It was the latter way with Mary and me. I like to think that our happiness was intended all along and that it worked itself out gradually." And so, having found their happiness in each other, they have joined forces to plot a new highway for themselves, a quiet and outmoded sort of road called old fashioned marriage. And they are going to stay on that road together — probably to the watchful amazement of most of those who know them. Buddy and Mary are to be married in the spring. They had planned it for the New Year season but the recent death of Lottie Pickford, whom you probably remember as a madcap in the old-time serials, postponed their arrangements. Her sister's death was a great shock and bereavement to Mary. It left her crushed with the loneliness of finding herself the last of the close-knit Pickford family. MOST of the details about our wedding are up to Mary, of course," Buddy told me. "But I do know that we won't elope. The majority of our close friends are in Hollywood and we see no reason why we should hop on a plane and rush off somewhere else to be married. "We'd like to have a simple ceremony at which our friends and my family could be present. Especially my family because it's been so long since I've been able to go home and pay them a real visit. Six or eight times a year I have a half-hour plane stopover in Kansas City and they drive to the airport to chat for a few minutes. But that's been the extent of my seeing them. I'm expecting my mother and dad and sister and brother to come out for the wedding." Recall, if you can, when any two people of importance in Hollywood have planned nuptials like these. No secrecy. No elopement. A ceremony with few thrills, a great deal of dignity, and relatives gathered from across half a continent to sit in the front rows and weep and kiss the bride and groom. A family affair. In Hollywood such ceremonies went out of style with Theda Bara's bangs, but that doesn't matter to Mary and Buddy. Their wedding will be their first step toward an old fashioned marriage. And what about the honeymoon? You might expect Mr. and Mrs. Buddy Rogers to engage a suite aboard the Normandie or at least to run down to Palm Springs for a few weeks. In her honeymoon days with Douglas Fairbanks Mary had a wedding trip more glamorous than any Hollywood bride has ever had, a long de luxe journey around the world during which she was presented to every important ruler in every big country. But this time she's actually yearning for the luxury of a quiet honeymoon at home! Says Buddy, "There's a chance that I may have to go to England to make a picture in the spring. If that happens we may be forced to honeymoon abroad. But we're hoping we can stay here and rest. Mary wants that and I — well, I've lived out of a suitcase for so long now my idea of a real honeymoon is to get a va cation from traveling. Both of us have been working hard during the past year; we simply want to take off a few weeks after our wedding and spend them leisurely alone together on the ranch." Alone together, not in the strange swank of some hotel or ocean liner with the prying eyes of the world following them constantly, but in the peaceful privacy of their own new home. If Mr. and Mrs. Rogers could have it their way they'd keep their front-page romance to themselves and out of the papers altogether. The house that will shelter the love of Mary Pickford and Buddy Rogers won't be the mansion you'd expect, either. No fashionable decorator will be called in to dictate a formal Louis Quinze living room, to order the pie-crust table ousted to the attic, to insist that the pictures be hung precisely right here and right here. When Douglas Eairbanks married Mary he bought the vast estate that is Pickfair from a wealthy sportsman, remodeled it, enlarged and landscaped it, made it into the showplace of Hollywood and presented it to his bride. It was staffed with a veritable battalion of the finest servants representing nine nationalities. Its grounds, complete with pools and sunken gardens and never a pebble out of place on the heart-shaped driveway, were as meticulously, rigidly attended to as was the routine of living inside the great house. The whole estate was equipped to facilitate heavy entertaining, to please and impress its inevitable stream of famous guests. Mary is selling Pickfair because, in her own words, "I want a different atmosphere about me, the sort of place where you can rough it by yourself. I shall keep only my antiques and the things that belonged to my mother. At our new home everything will be less formal. / want to live more within myself." The home that Buddy Rogers will provide for his bride is a rambling one-story ranch house on a piece of acreage in the San Fernando Valley. The newlyweds will decorate it themselves and not a stick of back-breaking-but-beautiful period furniture will be allowed. There will be only two extra bedrooms for guests. And if the chickens get in the zinnia beds or Buddy's collie puts muddy paws on the chesterfield, neither will bring out a militia of servants. The Rogers menage will do with a minimum of domestics and a maximum of homey atmosphere. OH, we're looking forward to a lot of things," the prospective bridegroom went on jubilantly. "We're going to have horses and kennels and big old easy chairs you can put your feet on and we'll probably eat off a card table before the fire most of the evenings. I'd hate to sit down to dinner at a big long vacant table with Mary so far away at the opposite end I'd have to squint over a dozen candelabras to see her!" His eyes were radiant as he talked, quietly, with few gesticulations. Watching him, I couldn't help comparing the Buddy Rogers of today with the carefree youth who was once America's boy-friend. Remember the plastered-down hair, the bellbottom pants, the razzle-dazzle and widely publicized romances with Mary Brian and Claire Windsor? Buddy, at thirty-three, has grown out of that era about as gracefully as anything I have ever seen. His hundred and seventy _hard_ muscular pounds, his thick curly hair which is graying prematurely at the temples, become him. He still has the most incredibly 86