Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1942)

Record Details:

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" ... he tried to kiss me and I slapped him good. I was through with being kissed by men I didn't love. I was through f jL But Ellen wasn't through with love. * What a lot she had learned in the three months since she came to New York. Being a dress model opens a girl's eyes. And that silly section manager, if he hadn't — but read Ellen's own story delightfully told in her own words. Entitled IflVt LETTER SPECIAL DELIVERY it is a complete book length true novel in the September True Story. Thrill to the actual account of a girl whose ideals were threatened by the alluring temptations her job offered. You'll enjoy every minute of it and you'll applaud Ellen for the decision she made. FIVE HOURS WITH YOU A complete novelette which recounts the difficulties of a young husband and wife who were both engaged in the cause for victory. Every wife and sweetheart of a man in service will understand and appreciate this. MY BEAUTIFUL DOLL . . . She was like a beautiful doll, their baby girl, and it was over her that they fought, but in the end it was because of her — only read this grand story of real married life. Complete in the September True Story. • ADD ALL THESE . . . I Will Forget For a Little While • In the Language of Sweethearts • Today's Youth • Three Women He Loved • Greater Than Romance • For One Girl • Lead Us Not Into Temptation and dozens of other thrilling features! GET YOUR COPY TODAY! True Story SEPTEMBER -:■ ON SALE NOW! SEPTEMBER, 1942 "Please, Woody?" "Oh, all right. Tomorrow." "No," I insisted. "Right away. I'll come over to your house tonight and—" Woody grinned. "All right. Gee, you're bossy, Lorraine." But I knew he didn't mean it. That night, when I went to see him, he had the notes down on ruled music paper, and while I listened he played it over on the piano. "It's — it's really beautiful, Woody!" I said when he'd finished. His fingers still on the keys, he looked up at me, wanting to believe me, half afraid to because of the disappointment that might follow if we sent the song away and it came back with another rejection slip. Already, this song had taken on a particular significance in our lives — a significance we couldn't understand then. I took the manuscript home and wrote the lyrics in a few hours of frenzied, inspired scribbling. Writing was easy for me. English Composition was always my best subject in school, and I loved putting words together. When I was finished I knew that deep satisfaction which comes of a job well done. I called it "Faraway Melody." The next morning I mailed the music and the lyrics myself. I remember how my hand shook when I slipped the envelope into the letter-drop. "Dear God," I prayed, "please let something good happen to this song. He needs it so badly." TT was ironic, later, to think that my ■*■ prayer was granted . . . and that the granting took Woody away from me. For the publishers did accept the song, our little "Faraway Melody." The news came two days before Woody and I graduated from high school, and at the time it was the best graduation present either of us could have had. And I had been right when I thought how much Woody needed the encouragement. He'd needed it so badly it sent him into a seventh heaven of delight. Before, he'd been unhappy because he couldn't afford to go to college. Now, that didn't matter. He didn't want to go to college anyway. He wanted to go to New York and be a song writer. He had a little money saved up, the royalties from "Faraway Melody" would add a little more, and the rest he could earn at — oh, any kind of job until he could support himself with his songs. "I'll make you proud of me, Lorraine," he whispered to me the night before he left. I wanted to cry out, "I don't care whether I'm proud of you or not, Woody dearest! All I care about is to have you with me, where I can see you, touch you, talk to you!" But even then I sensed the fierce drive in him, and I couldn't speak. He'd never told me he loved me, and I knew he never would until he had conquered his own ambition. He promised to write, of course, and at first he did — once, sometimes twice, a, week. His letters were sometimes enthusiastic, sometimes despondent, generally fairly noncommittal about what he actually was doing. And then they didn't come so often. By November I was lucky if I got a letter once a month. But by then, I was deep in my Freshman year at Ohio State University. Not that I'd stopped missing Woody — nothing of the sort. Continued on page 85 every woman should understand! Safe new way in feminine hygiene gives continuous action for hours! • Your happiness — your very health — can depend on whether or not you know the real facts about the vital problem of feminine hygiene! 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Called Blondex, it helps keep light hair from darkening and brightens faded blonde hair. Takes but 11 minutes and you do it yourself at home. Blondex -is absolutely safe even for children's hair. For extra lustre and radiance, top off shampoo with Blondex Golden Rinse. Can be used on all shades of blonde hair. Both cost little to use. At 10c, drug and department stores. 83