Radio and television mirror (Jan-June 1942)

went home to a house that now seemed empty and desolate, even though it had known so little of Joe lately. IJENRIETTE DORNE and her -■-'■ adopted son Timothy were to visit Joe in his stateroom the next day and see him off, and that comforted Mary. Henriette was one of her dearest friends, and it would be the next best thing to seeing him off herself. She was to wish, later, that Henriette and Timothy had not been at the ship, for it was through Timothy that she eventually learned what they had seen there, unexpectedly entering Joe's stateroom: Bunny Mitchell, in tears, taking her own secret farewell of the man she now openly professed to love more than her own husband. Timothy should have kept as silent about the discovery as his fostermother, but he was only a child and didn't fully understand the pain the knowledge would bring Mary. She would rather not have known, even though she told herself it could not have been Joe's fault. He would not have sent for Bunny, nor wished for her to be there — not after those two days in Cedar Springs when he had spoken of the things he really loved, home and his child and his wife; had been in so many ways the old Joe that she loved. He could not have acted so, knowing that in a few hours he would be in the clinging arms of another woman who had already done so much to put awry his life and his happiness! But while she protested this faith in him, there was still that small, unadmitted doubt, the doubt that now would always exist between her and him. How little she really knew of Joe Marlin — of what went on in his heart and mind. He had been capable of deceiving her before; why not again? Joe must have been in Russia by the time she received his first letter, written while he was still aboard ship. It was a strange letter for Joe to write — mystical, almost rhapsodic. It told of the depression that had hung over him as the ship sailed — not a mention of Bunny Mitchell! — and of how he had been unable to shake it off until one foggy night when he had walked the deck alone, long after other passengers had gone to bed. Then, out of the darkness, he had received a conviction that even on this vast waste of tossing waters there was a Presence, a watchful, protective Presence, guarding him and at the same time Mary and Davey and everyone in the world. Joe had never been deeply religious, and that made this new belief of his all the more startling and in a way comforting. It was good to know that he felt secure, after the misgivings with which he had started. Then, a few weeks later, came a curt message by cable: "Leaving Moscow at once. Destination in letter following. Love to you and Davey always." Of course, Mary reasoned, he could not entrust news that was of possible international significance to the publicity of a cable. All the same, she was upset by the uncertainty of not knowing exactly where he was. And that night she, too, had a dream. She was with Joe, yet not with him — that is, he was unaware of her presence, and she could not speak to him, only watch him as he sat in the dimly-lighted cabin of a passenger MAY, 1942 Guess What? i Unh-Unh . . . guess again. Something worse. . . . Give up? All rights here's what's wrong . . . This young man is lonesome. He wants company. He wants that wondetful woman who always understands him. Even if he can't talk. So he's sending a hurry call for Mother. And Mother? Well, today was washday. Her poor back aches. Her arms are like lead. And she just has to rest another minute before flying up those stairs again. If only she had some help ... And so she should. Especially on washday. She should have the help that only Fels-Naptha Soap can give . . . two wonderful cleaners — gentle naptha and richer golden soap — combining to banish dirt, without the rubbing that wears a woman out. Making washdays easier and shorter. Giving her more time and strength to lavish on this lusty youngster. \M.OKAL: On washday, a boy's 'best friends' are his Mother — and Fels-Naptha Soap.] Golden baror Golden chipsFEIS'NAPTHA banishesTattle-Tole Gray 55