Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1942)

more time." "I know it," I said, wiping the perspiration from my forehead, "but I've just got to find her." At the Amsterdam Avenue address, they said she had moved just last week to 480 Livingston Street, and I promised Jeff that this would be our last stop. We wearily got on the subway again and went down to Livingston Street. Walking along Livingston, looking for number 480, we noticed a crowd of people gathered in the street down the block. We wondered what it was all about until it suddenly occurred to me — "My gosh, Jeff, I bet that's 480 Livingston." "Could be," said Jeff without much interest. "But that's where Susie lives!" "That's right," he said, and we quickened our pace. I thought, what's happened to her now? And then I saw a couple of fire engines drawn up in front of the house, and there was smoke coming out of one of the upstairs windows. Jeff and I pushed our way into the crowd. "What's happened?" I asked one of the bystanders. "Just a fire," he said, "won't last much longer. They've just about got it out." "Anybody still in the house?" I asked him. "No, they got all the people out a long time ago." "Happen to know where they went?" "How should I know?" he asked exasperatedly, and turned back to watch the firemen. THEN my eye caught something down at the end of the block. I nudged Jeff and we started down the street on the double-quick. It was a little popcorn wagon, and I had a hunch. We pulled up short in front of the wagon, and the little man who was pushing it looked up at us with a friendly grin. "Popcorn, Mister?" "Yeah, I'll have a bag — make it a couple of bags." And then while he was filling the bags with popcorn, I asked him as casually as I could if he'd noticed a blonde girl around the neighborhood in the past week who bought a lot of popcorn. He chuckled at that and said he certainly had. His business had doubled since she moved to Livingston Street. "You don't happen to know where she is right now, do you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. "Sure. She's probably down at O'Connor's having a coke — she spends a lot of time there, reading books and drinking cokes." "Where's O'Connor's?" "Two blocks down — on the other side of the street." "C'mon, Jeff," I yelled, and we galloped off. "Forty-five minutes to go," he panted. We turned into O'Connor's, which was one of those old-fashioned soda fountain places with the little marble topped tables and the wire chairs with the curled backs. There was also a lending library and some magazine stands in the place, but I only half saw them. My eyes were filled with a girl sitting all alone at a little table in the back of the store. A blonde girl with a green hat, sitting with her back to us. NOVEMBER, 1942 A JUL uotc i*v olQVC Ziovei Ann Rutherford and George Montgomery featured in the 20th i ' Century-Fox picture, "Orchestra Wife." Want such soft romantic hands? Ann Rutherford's Adorable Hands. Ann protects the confiding softness of her hands by using Jergens Lotion. "The simplest, loveliest hand care," she says. The romantic stars in Hollywood cultivate this "dream girl" softness in their hands. They use Jergens Lotion, 7 to 1 ! You protect the rose-leaf smoothness of your hands with Jergens; this lotion helps prevent common-looking rough, chapped hands. Of course! It's like professional care for your hands. Many wise doctors aid hard-used skin to divine softness with 2 special ingredients, which are both in Jergens Lotion. 10)4 to $1.00 a bottle. Notice — Jergens Lotion leaves no sticky feeling. Give your hands "Hollywood's Hand Care ;" use Jergens Lotion . FOR SOFT, ADORABLE HANDS 59