Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1942)

talk to the woman clerk. She was a hard-bitten lady with a sharp tongue and flashy platinum blonde hair. "Susie Brown?" she repeated when I asked. "The nearest name to that we've ever had here was Susannah Brownell. Could that be the one?" "Might be," I told her, "she's had a lot of names." "Did she have hair the color of mine?" "No ma'am — Susie had red hair, last I heard. But she had a monkey." "Well, this girl didn't have a monkey, but she did have a Pekingese." I could hear Jeff behind me groan at that. And then I asked my ace question. "Did this Susannah Brownell eat popcorn a lot?" THE woman behind the desk gave a snort of laughter. "I'll say she did, soldier — she devoured it. Even had the Peke chewing on it." "It's Susie, all right," I told Jeff. "Poor kid, trying to run away from her troubles by dying her hair and changing her name." "Troubles, my eye," the woman interrupted, "that girl hit the jackpot. She struck it rich — at first, anyway." "What do you mean?" Jeff and I blurted out together. And I added, "This girl I'm thinking of had just lost her husband — he shot himself. Maybe it isn't the same one after all." "It's the same one, all right. I know all about the poor guy. But after she got here she didn't waste any time mooning about it. My husband helped get her a job as a show girl at the Zero Hour Club and she started to brighten up right away. And then it happened — like the sweepstakes!" "What happened?" "She breezed out of here one night like Lady Vere de Vere going to the opera. All dressed up in ermine and wearing an engagement ring as big as a rock. She was with a dark foreign-looking guy with a wolfhound." Jeff said "Wow!" under his breath. I couldn't say anything for a minute. I was stunned. "Do you happen to know where they went, Ma'am?" I asked finally. "I sure do, brother. She went to a penthouse on Park Avenue — and I told my husband at the time that I'd change places with her any day in the week!" "Well, thanks very much. I guess we better be getting along." But the woman leaned back in her chair and started to laugh. "Wait a minute, soldier," she was obviously enjoying all this very much. "You haven't heard the half of it yet. Wait'll I tell you what happened!" Jeff and I leaned against the desk and waited. The story she told us was almost unbelievable, but she said it had been in all the New York papers and was surprised that we hadn't even heard about it. The dark foreign man was a Prince, she told us — Prince Mikaloff. Whether the title was real or not, people didn't bother to find out, but he said he was a Prince and he lived like a Prince, so everyone accepted' him at his word. And that made Susie a Princess. She got to be known around town as the Princess Susannah, and she and the Prince went everywhere in regal splendor. They were always at the opening nights of new Broadway NOVEMBER, 1942 I have a family to raise and a home to keep ship-shape. I'm learning First Aid and train ing for Ambulance Duty. And I've got a part-time job that makes our budget a better fit It's exciting and completely satisfying . . . but it takes a bit of doing. I've had to learn new ways — and quicker ways — to get through the endless household tasks that use up so much time and energy. For instance, I've just installed the Fels-Naptha Soap System. I use this wonder soap to clean bric-a-brac, to brighten silver and flatware — and for all sorts of time-killing cleaning chores that keep a conscientious wife 'tied down.' My precious silk and Nylon stockings last longer under the Fels-Naptha Soap System — and they're easier to do. I wouldn't trust my baby's things with any other soap. As for the family wash — I've just whisked through that and I'm off to another round of traction splints and pressure points. Yes, I'm a busy woman and thanks to Fels-Naptha Soap — I love it! Golden baror Golden chips. FELS'NAPTHA banishesTattle-Tale Gray" 57