Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1942)

in Detroit all winter instead of running down to Palm Beach for two months, and things like that. But I didn't know poor as Peter meant it. We saw each other constantly for two months. And one day, eating hamburgers, he asked me to marry him. It popped out, without his thinking. He said later if he'd known what he was saying, he'd never have been able to do it. "You don't know what you're letting yourself in for," he told me tenderly — but terribly seriously too. "You don't know what poverty's like. You'll have to learn to cook and scrub — " "That will be fun!" "You'll be lonely. I can't afford to take time from work to see people — " "I want to be just with you!" "You'll live in an isolated place, with no one around but me." "Wonderful!" "You won't have any new clothes — " "I'll be happy in rags with you, darling!" He kissed me and it was like being on a cloud, above the world. And I thought it the most romantic thing in the world to be in a tiny cottage, shut off from everybody else, with Peter becoming a famous scientist and me one of those wonderful wives of great men you read about. lVf Y father tried to warn me. "I like Peter Morris," he said. "He's got everything I want in a man for you. But he's going to have tough sledding — and so are you, baby. I've done the best I could to bring you up without a mother, but I'm afraid I've turned you into a spoiled little helpless kitten. You see it now as romantic. You're going to find it's grim. Do you honestly think you've the courage to take it?" I laughed. "But I love him, Daddy, and he loves me. . . ." He grinned, a little wryly, and pulled my ear. "Just remember, Ellen, life isn't like the movies." We were married quietly in the garden at home and we went to live in the cottage on the shore of one of the many small lakes around that part of Michigan. Hardly anybody lives out there all year round, but Peter did because the house belonged to an older chemist who was interested in Peter's work, and rented it to him for almost nothing. There was one large room, fixed up as a laboratory with tanks of gases and all kinds of gadgets I couldn't understand; then there was a small living room, a tiny bedroom, a good-sized kitchen, and bath. It was tacky — but for the first three months it was heaven, too. Peter had to teach me to cook, even to sweep, and we died laughing over the messes I served on the table and the messes I made trying to clean. It was winter, and there was adventure in driving the old jaloppy into the village for our once-a-week marketing trip. Peter explained we could drive in only once a week, except for emergencies, on account of gas and money. I thought it was like pioneering, and sort of cute. We skated on the lake and had snowball fights and made love to each other and it was paradise. Peter talked a lot about his work. "It's vital not only to me, but to our country, Ellen. If I can work out a decontaminating gas, it will revolutionize chemical warfare. There won't be any more poor souls with their eyes blinded and their lungs eaten out. It will neutralize the enemy weapon — the sneak weapon." "It's wonderful, darling. You're so smart. And then you'll be famous and we'll be rich." He laughed. "No. But if I succeed, I'll be working for the government and we won't have to live off savings any more. Lord, if I can only get it! I've made mistakes — plenty of them — but this time I think I'm on the right track." He threw himself on the sofa beside me and thumbed impatiently through his notebook. "If I can only make this come out right!" I looked over his shoulder at the hieroglyphics. "How long will it take?" I'd go out and look at the sunset and think about the life I used to have. Now I was lonely and bored, for every day was the same. RADIO MIHROB