Radio mirror (Jan-June 1946)

Spring Story (Continued from page 31) disheveled shadow of a human being, "Miss Allen, I heard you in ray room. I want you to come and visit me." Never a question, never a sympathetic word — which would only have made me twice as hysterical as I was already. As it was I hardly saw her kind, crinkled old face. I just went on crying aloud, and let her guide me gently into her small room — flooded, as always, with radio music. Once there, she sat down at a card table and began working on the scent-bags she made for a famous New York department store — talking casually as she dipped sweet-smelling sachet into little pastel silk bags and sewed them up. And finally, her peace gave me a temporary calm. Actually, I was in a kind of trance — with my emotions still waiting tensely under the surface to spring to life again. I stayed several hours. Mrs. Murphy sent down for soup and tea at lunchtime. And then, around two o'clock, her quiet mood disappeared and she became all brisk activity. CHE shoved a ticket in my hand and ^ said in a business-like voice, "Now, my dear, take this ticket. It's for the radio show, Ladies Be Seated. It's this afternoon at Radio City; I wrote in for the ticket myself, but now I see I have too much work to do. Hurry up now, and get dressed — you have to get there half an hour before the show goes on!" The last thing I wanted to do on earth was go to a radio program on the day when my world had fallen apart. But what could I do? Mrs. Murphy, whose whole life revolved with her radio dial — to whom radio programs, for that matter, took the place of life — had given me a ticket she'd have loved to use herself. I had to go. If I had any thought of secretly not going, she destroyed it. "It's an audience-participation show, you know," she said. "Maybe you'll be on it. And then I can listen to you while I work!" And so it was that, still numb with pent-up emotions, with my nerves quiveringly ready to let go again, I was finally dressed for the street. I was even finally walking down the corridors of Radio City, and turning in at a gray swinging door. And then, suddenly, I was in the magic world of radio— in the radio theater for the soon-to-beon-the-air broadcast of Ladies Be Seated. At first, in my trance-like state, I had only a jumbled impression of the neat, modern little gray theater, with its rows of comfortable armchairs sloping gently up toward the ceiling in the rear. I only vaguely saw the engaging, laughing, joking young master-of-ceremonies Johnny Olsen, who was even then roaming up and down the aisles with a hand-microphone, exchanging jokes with the audience. He wore a ridiculous, cheerful costume — a gay red satin high hat, insane red trousers, and a pale blue satin tailcoat. And I only vaguely noted the lighted stage, with its mikes, its neatly-arranged chairs, its bigger-than-life cardboard figure of Aunt Jemima, and the huge billboard facing the audience with the words to "Smiles" written on it. While I was getting these impressions through the shell of my own misery, an usher was showing me to one of the few empty seats. I sank into it almost without knowing I was doing 3c -4(^15 lwt> Make the famous Fresh test. See why more women are switching to Fresh than to any other deodorant. Fresh stops perspiration worries completely. Fresh contains the most effective perspiration-stopping ingredient known to science. Fresh stays smooth. ..never sticky or gritty... doesn't dry out in the jar. 65