Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1942)

Strange Heritage Continued jrom page 13 me that morning — the fat old range with its shiny black face, the big oval of the braided rug on the scrubbed white pine floor, the row of geraniums on the windowsill making a brave scarlet showing in the sun, the incongruous modern whiteness of the electric refrigerator which had been Tod's day-I-asked-you-to-marry-me anniversary gift. It was as I stopped to pet the cat that I noticed the letter propped up against the cream jug on the table. Postman must have come while I was gone, I thought, as I reached out my hand for it. To my surprise, it was addressed to me, yet it was open. That wasn't like Tod — not like Tod at all to open my mail. Then I noticed the return address on the envelope. "Caleb Brandon, San Luis Obispo, California." Why, the letter was from Tod's Uncle Caleb — but why on earth had he written to me and not to Tod? T PULLED out the letter and hastily -*■ scanned its contents; it was short, brief to the point of bruskness, just as I remembered Caleb Brandon himself as being, although I had not seen him since I was a little girl. Dear Mary: May an old man invite himself to share your Christmas? I am anxious to see both of you, and am at last well enough to make the trip, although it may be for the last time. I will arrive Thursday, December 23, on the 12:20. Please arrange to meet me. Yours very truly, Caleb Brandon Only Caleb Brandon, I thought, would sign a letter to his nephew's wife "yours very truly" even if he hadn't seen either nephew or wife for many, many years! But I was pleased at the thought of more company for Christmas. I love company. And I was certainly glad that we were going to have the opportunity of showing persnickety old Caleb Brandon what a wonderful job Tod had done in building up the farm. Uncle Caleb had left Midland many years ago, and had never come back. Indeed, there'd been no reason for his return, for his only living relatives — Tod's mother and father — had also left the home town, and Midland had not seen the Brandons since Tod was eight. We'd heard, through Caleb — who was my father's friend and with whom he had corresponded now and then through the years — that Tod's parents had been killed in an automobile accident, but we had never, nor had Uncle Caleb, apparently, heard what had become of Tod until he turned up in Midland, five years ago, to make the old Brandon farm into a home for himself — and for me. Already, with the news of Uncle Caleb's arrival not two minutes old, I was thinking of additional things which must be done. Tod must whitewash the basement, although we hadn't planned to do it before the holidays. We must get new linoleum for the bathroom. And I must scrub and clean as I never had before. I remembered that Mother had always said that Caleb Brandon drove his poor wife to an early grave with his passion for cleanliness. Well, that DECEMBER, 1942 wasn't going to happen to me with my Brandon, but a woman does like to have her house at its best for a special and critical guest. Suddenly I couldn't plan by myself any longer — I simply had to share the plans with Tod. I refastened my coat, rummaged in the closet for a pair of boots to protect my feet and legs against the snow which lay thick in the fields, and set out to find Tod. He wasn't at the place where he'd been cutting wood lately, nor had he been there today. The snow, fresh last night, had not been trampled. Nor was Tod in the barn nor in any of the other buildings, nor in the house when I got back. Of course, I wasn't much troubled. True, I'd had the car, so he couldn't have driven off, but if he'd really wanted something in Midland he might have walked in, or hitched a ride. Or a neighbor, needing assistance for something, might have come over to get him. Feeling a bit deflated at not having anyone to talk with about the visitor, I took off my hat and coat. But I was soon singing my way about, getting the noonday meal — dinner, of course, on a farm. I made corn fritters, fried crisp slices of bacon, opened homecanned jars of stewed tomatoes and applesauce, laid out plates of homemade bread and the doughnuts I'd fried before I went to town that morning. And all the time I was glowing at the thought of Christmas, less than a week away, and the reunion of Tod and his Uncle Caleb. OUT Tod didn't come home to din*-* ner. First it was twelve, and then twelve-thirty, and then one o'clock, and still no sign of him. As I watched the fritters get cold and sodden, the bacon congeal in cold fat, I was more annoyed than worried. Of course, if Tod had gone to another farm to help with something he'd probably stay there for dinner, or if he'd found some reason to go to town he'd doubtless have dinner with my parents. But we were on the party line — why didn't he call and let me know? It's just plain carelessness, I told myself as I slammed the dishes around, putting things away, and then I stopped to laugh at myself, and remembered all those jokes about "the honeymoon is over." But as the afternoon wore on without a sign or a sound from him I began to think that it was no laughing matter. Finally I called my father, asking casually if Tod had been there — hastily adding "yet," so that I wouldn't have to confess that I didn't know where he was. But Dad hadn't seen him since day before yesterday. At last, before dusk set in, I got the car out, whistled to Bounce, and drove around the property, making little side excursions on foot, sending Bounce on ahead with the order, "Find Tod — good dog, find Tod!" Bounce looked and I looked, but not a sign of my husband did we find, and my heart was beginning to pound jerkily as I turned back to the house in the swift-falling twilight. The brightly-lighted little house, smelling of good things, was suddenly a foreign, deserted place. Love had left the rooms, and laughter with it. The place was empty. I was panic-stricken. Thoughts of Tod hurt, dead, clamored N6W tinder -arm Cream Deodorant safely Stops Perspiration 1. Does not harm dresses, or men's shirts. Does not irritate skin. 2. No waiting to dry. Can be used right after shaving. 3. Instantly checks perspiration for 1 to 3 days. Removes odor from perspiration, keeps armpits dry. 4. A pure white, greaseless, stainless vanishing cream. 5. Arrid has been awarded the Approval Seal of the American Institute of Laundering, for being harmless to fabrics. AKft'L™* ARRID 39^ a |ar (Also in 10c and .59c jarj) Buy a jar of ARRID today at any store which sells toilet goods. 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