Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1942)

With their irresistible fashion ideas... their quality. .. and "money's worth" value ... is it any wonder that lovely Janet Blair says, "PARIS FASHION SHOES are the last word in smart footwear!" The fall styles are lovelier than ever! See them now/ WOHL SHOE COMPANY ST. LOUIS, MO. drawled. "You musta read about me in the papeh. Ah'm the new Joe-Jan Peach Queen for Nineteen Fo'ty two." Davy's voice began to crack. "The Peach Queen of 1942?" "Yah-us," Maudie said. "Don't you recall me now?" "Why uh," Davy giggled, "sure I recall you, ah, Miss Honeycut." "Honeycake, to you, Day-veh." Maudie could hardly control herself. Davy laughed self-consciously. "Well, what can I do for you, Honeycake?" he said. "Well, Day-veh," Maudie said, "I hope you won't think me too bold — " "I should say not," Davy broke in. Maudie went on, all in one breath. "Well, Day-veh, I heard about that dance you-all were havin' next Sattideh and ah don' know a soul in town and ah was just wonder in' if you'd escort me." Now Maudie giggled. "You mus' think me bold as bray-as." "Oh no." There was a long pause and then Davy asked, haltingly, "A — that is — what do you look like, Honeycake?" Maudie's description of Honeycake Honeycut made Davy Dillon drool and purr. Davy wanted to see "his Honeycake" right away, but Maudie, her accent getting thicker by the second, explained that she had to leave town and wouldn't be back until the night of the dance. "Suppose ah meet you at the school gym," she cooed, "wheah the dance is hay-eld?" "Woo-woo," Davy gurgled. "Look, Honeycake, I've never seen you, so how will I know you?" "I'll be wearin' peach velvet," Maudie answered, "an' ah'll have a camellia in mah hay-uh." "Peach velvet!" Davy fairly yowled. "Cover the ice with ashes, Mother, I'm slippin'!" " 'Bye, now," Maudie said quickly, "you big wonderful may-un!" For several minutes after Maudie hung up, Pauly was hysterical. She kept telling Maudie over and over again how terrific she was. Maudie was too ferociously angry to care whether or not she had been terrific. "The big double-crossing cheat!" she said fiercely. "But wait until Saturday night!" Pauly said delightedly. "Jeepers! I can just see Davy Dillon waiting around all evening for somebody who doesn't even exist. You'll certainly have the horse laugh on him!" TO Maudie, the days seemed to be never-ending. Monday and Tuesday were perfectly gruesome and boring and she spent the evenings moping in her room. On Wednesday, as usual, she took her fashion column into the editorial office of the high school paper, the Crimson and Gold, and handed it to the assistant editor, Mr. Dillon. "Well, it's about time," Davy said, taking the column from her hands. Maudie ignored him, but frigidly. She turned to Bill Brandt, sitting on the other side of the office. "You may tell Mr. Dillon," she said, "I have no intention of speaking to him." "I heard that," Davy grinned. "Okay by me, it saves wear and tear on the eardrums." "Oh!" Maudie exclaimed and fairly flew out into the hall. Friday, when the Crimson and Gold was distributed to the eager hands of the students of Suburban High, everyone was agoj because of an item in the 56 Tid Bits column, obviously written by Davy himself. "The Crimson and Gold staff," it read, "takes pride in announcing that at the dance Saturday night, Mr. David Dillon, associate editor, will have the honor of escorting Miss Honeycake Honeycut, the Georgia Peach Queen of 1942. Miss Honeycut is one of the most glamorous, breathtaking women in these United States. Mr. Dillon will be the sinecure of all eyes. iy/| AUDIE read it at least a dozen ■*•" times. Then she read it, in a whisper, to Pauly in botany class. "He'll be the laughing stock of the whole school," she said, falteringly. On Saturday night, sitting between Bill and Pauly on the way to the dance, Maudie's stomach felt as though it were full of hummingbird's wings. She could hardly contain her excitement and lust for revenge because on Friday, after the paper had come out, Davy's ego had been positively ghoulish. When he finds out there's no such person as Honeycake Honeycut, she thought, he'll want to crawl under something and die. Maudie entered the room leading to the dance floor in a flurry of pink and white. Her eyes, shining and expectant, met those of Davy Dillon. He was leaning nonchalantly against a railing and Maudie was forced to admit that she had never seen him so spruced, so completely sharp and handsome. He was wearing a brand new summer tux! Maudie and Pauly and Bill swept up to him. "Well!" Maudie said. "Hello there!" "Hi, Maudie," Davy smiled. "Hey, I thought you weren't speaking to me." "Since everybody should be happy at a dance," Maudie replied sweetly, "I've decided to be magnanimous and recognize your existence." "Thanks too much," Davy said. "Davy," Pauly asked maliciously, "what are you doing out here?" Davy looked slightly embarrassed. "Oh, uh," he hesitated, "just waiting." "Where is she, Davy?" Maudie asked, turning the knife. "We mean," Pauly said pointedly, "Honeycake Honeycut." "Come on, son," Bill said slapping him on the back. "Drag her out. Give me an eyeload of the wench." Davy tried to stammer explanations and Maudie was fairly seething with glee and satisfaction. "Oh, Davy," she gushed, "everyone is just quivering for a look at her." "I hear she's quite a cuddle cat," Bill broke in. "Or haven't you had a chance to test that theory yet?" Davy blushed and looked at the floor. "Wait a sec, Bill." He turned to Maudie. "Hey, Maudie," he said, "is everybody really excited to see Honeycake?" "Oh," Maudie assured him, "monumentally so!" "Gosh," Davy said. And Maudie was sure he was squirming inside. "The orchestra's finished the first set, Davy," Pauly said nastily. "Where is she?" "Davy!" Maudie said. "I just had the most ghastly thought! Suppose Miss Honeycut doesn't show up at all!" Maudie smiled into Davy's eyes which seemed to be filled with terror. He really was suffering, she thought — and showing it, which, was unusual for Davy. "Hey, Maudie," he said RADIO AND TELEVISION MIRROR