Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1942)

ing carried back to the house, smiling one-sidedly but reassuringly in spite of the pain. I remember the doctor rubbing his hands together and saying, with satisfaction, "Nice, clean break — left leg. He'll be up and able to hobble about before you know it." My world was bounded by the four walls of Dwight's room for the next few days. I read to him, talked to him, found new roots for our pleasant "togetherness." As the doctor had promised, he soon was able to sit on the terrace in the sun, his leg in a cast. At lunch that first day that he was downstairs he reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "Now that I'm no longer strictly crippled, you've got to stop this business of fussing around me like a cat with one kitten, Zelda. You haven't stirred outside the house since I fell. Tommy, you're the man of the house temporarily," he went on, "and your first assignment is to take Zelda to the tennis tournament this afternoon. She has been counting on it for weeks, and I'm not going to have her miss it." "Why — " Tommy began, uneasily, but I interrupted him. "Dwight, I'd much rather stay here — with you. I don't want to go to the tournament." "Nonsense," he said, smiling. And suddenly, with a shock like that of an icy finger drawn across my spine, I knew that it was nonsense. I did want to go to the tournament — with Tommy. And while, in a sort of panic, I examined that knowledge and saw all its implications, Dwight was going on, "Not another word out of either of you — get along!" IT was amazing, and frightening, *■ how easily Tommy and I slipped back into the old routine, after that. Because the fire was still there, you see. It hadn't died. And it flamed again, burned high. The days slid by, one like another, and yet so different from those peaceful days with Dwight. Weekends, Miggs came out, and the three of us went around together, but during the week it was Tommy and I alone — and happy. At least, I was happy, with a kind of burning, bitter happiness, because I had fallen into the old habit of lying to myself again. But I was troubled, too. I wondered if people were talking about me. Did the neighborhood gossips chatter among themselves about the way Tommy and I danced at the taverns on the highway, paddled about in the path of the moon on the lake, the foolish, childish fun we had at the nearby amusement park? But I put those doubts aside, because I wanted to. It was silly, I told myself; I was a married woman, being taken around a little by my stepson while my husband was unable to go out with me. And we did have fun, Tommy and I. I lost all the settled feeling those first months of being married to Dwight had given me. I forgot how tired keeping up with Tommy had once made me, forgot how sick I had sometimes been with myself for trying to play at being a youngster when I knew that I was a grown woman. Slowly, worse doubts came to me, as the fire burned higher, as the excitement of being with Tommy grew stronger and stronger. Had I thrown my life away? Could everything possibly be the same again, once Dwight was able to walk again? NOVEMBER, 1942 DEDICATED AMERICA A Lesson They're Eager to Learn Ooon these new mothers will leave the hospital where their babies were born. Now they are watching a nurse demonstrate how to care for a newborn infant. She teaches them many vital lessons that hospitals have learned about scientific infant care; and most valuable of all, she gives them a new understanding of the importance of protecting babies against harmful germs. Largely because of the progress which medical science has made in its neverending war on germs, this year more than 100,000 U. S. babies will live, who would have died at less than one year of age had they been born 20 years ago. Nowadays hospitals maintain almost unbelievable vigilance in guarding infants against harmful germs. Only a few specially-assigned nurses are permitted in the nursery, and they must wear sterile masks, caps and gowns. Even the doctor does not enter; he examines babies in a special room, and he too wears mask, cap and gown. When baby is nursing, the mother's bed is covered with a sterile feeding sheet, and her breasts and hands are sterilized. A limited number of visitors is admitted to the mother's room, only during certain hours; > and they are asked to stay away from the bed, to prevent transfer of germs which might later come in contact with the baby. As a vital aid in protecting baby's skin against germs, practically every hospital now anoints the baby's entire body with antiseptic oil, daily. This helps prevent impetigo, prickly heat, pustular rashes, diaper rash. It is known that germ infection plays a part in these common skin troubles. Mothers should continue hospital pro tective measures at home. Keep visitors away from baby. Don't let them fondle or kiss him. And do as hospitals and doctors recommend— anoint your baby with antiseptic oil every day until he's at least a year old. Use the oil also after every diaper change. Be sure the oil you use is antiseptic. Look for the word "antiseptic" on the label. Don't be satisfied with anything less. Remember that the essence of baby care is protection against harmful germs. And, of course, have your baby examined by your doctor regularly . . . that is Rule No. 1 in infant care. f ■/ -f Why do almost all hospital nurseries use Mennen Antiseptic Oil? Because it is antiseptic. No other widely-sold baby oil has that important quality. If you want the best for your baby, at only slight extra cost, use Mennen Antiseptic Oil. There is no substitute for antiseptic care. When baby is older and you use a baby powder, follow this guide: Mennen Baby Powder, too, is antiseptic — a health aid, not a mere "cosmetic!' Made by special "hammerizing" process, it is finer, smoother, more uniform in texture than other leading baby powders. Also it has a delicate new scent. Most important, Mennen Baby Powder is antiseptic. Pharmaceutical Dkision TH*msnnsnco Newark* jV. /. — Toronto, OnL 63