Radio romances (July-Dec 1945)

grow lovelier week by week. She had fun with Carl, I could see that. I began to live in dread of the end that must come. The happier she was now, the more crushed she would be when it was over, and Carl was gone ... as he would be. Janet's birthday came at the end of October. That meant a party — Tanner House had a party on the most trumpedup of excuses, and certainly a twentyfirst birthday was a real reason for celebration. But I couldn't put much heart into my planning. I was pretty sure Janet wouldn't want to bring Carl, and I was equally sure she wouldn't enjoy it without him, and I didn't know whether I ought to speak to her or not. • Well, it was lovely weather anyway. We'd have a backyard picnic, bring out the three trestle tables and load them with food, sit around on cushions on the grass and have fun — I cudgeled myself into enthusiasm and went downtown to look for paper tablecloths. There weren't any. No paper napkins either. No candles of the size I needed for mother's old copper candlesticks. Mr. Schlomm at the ice cream parlor wasn't sure I could have all the ice cream I wanted, even ordering two weeks in advance. There wasn't much enthusiasm left in me as I waited on Carmel Street for my bus. I was tired and vaguely irritated, and still worrying about Janet, — when suddenly I looked up, straight into Carl Byrnes' eyes. He didn't know me, of course — he had only glimpsed me that first time he had brought Janet home; in a moment the light changed and the blue car pulled away, making room for my bus. BUT in that instant all my formless dissatisfaction crystallized into a single feeling of depression. That odd, gallant lift of his head, those clear eyes, vividly blue — of course Janet wouldn't be able to forget him. And when he had gone everything else would be spoiled for her . . . what right did he have to burst in and upset the comfortable little world we had made of Tanner House? He didn't belong there. I was so upset that I called Walter that evening and asked him to come over after dinner. I wanted to talk to someone, to try to get my thoughts clear. But I couldn't explain why I was so depressed. "After all," Walter said soothingly, "it's Janet's life, Jean. She's young, you can't expect her to be satisfied just to be comfortable. She wants fun, a little excitement . . ." "She wants more than that, that's why it's so unfair," I burst out. "A man like that is more excitement than is good for a girl like Janet. She wants a husband and a home, and after Carl she isn't going to be happy with the nice, quiet kind of boy she's bound to marry." Walter took off his glasses and polished them carefully. "He might marry her," he objected. "She's pretty enough, nice enough." "You know better than that!" I snapped. "He comes along, with his good-looking face and all the glamor of his background, all the exciting places he's seen — and as soon as he's ready, off he'll be again. You wait and see," I finished darkly. "Hey, don't get so excited," Walter said. "Who are you fighting for, anyway? It's not your nice comfortable life he's interfering with; it's Janet!" I "jumped up, exasperated. "Oh, Walter — go home. Anyway, I hear the Not yet, but Much as we'd like to, we can't complete that sentence. Soap is still near the top of the list of materials needed to win the war. So until the orders are changed the great Fels plant must spend most of its time making soap for fighting men. This doesn't mean that you can't get any Fels-Naptha Soap. The limited supply for civilians is distributed as evenly as we know how to do it. There will be times, certainly, when your grocer has Fels-Naptha Soap on sale. We know that most times the Fels-Naptha bin will be empty. And although that is disappointing, we think it's better than depriving the men who need good soap as much as they need good weapons. The day is coming, when you will go to the Fels-Naptha bin and — if you feel like it — fill your market basket with this famous soap that now seems like a luxury. We hope it will be . . . soon! Fels-Naptha Soap BAN/SHESnTATTLE-TAL£ GRAY' 57