Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1941)

Nw n m*Lm "Hullo, Sylvia," Edward exclaimed, without looking up. "So this is ■the reason you couldn't come over to Big House," Sylvia said coldly.. Begin radio's most beautiful romance — the story of lovely Amanda, who fled in terror from the sordid life of the valley people into the arms of Edward who lived in the shining house on the hilltop Now as a vivid, romantic story read" the exciting radio serial heard every weekday at 3:15 P.M., E.D.T., on NBC's Blue network, sponsored by Cal-/tspirln and Haley's M-O. Photographs posed by Joy Hathaway as Amanda, Boyd Crawford as Edward, Helen Shields a* Sylvia. Copyright 1941, Frank and Anne Hummert mffMSML OF HONEYMOON HILL THE flames from the brick kiln swept out, caught by a gust of wind, and Amanda stepped swiftly away on bare feet, shielding her face. The warmth here in this cleared space in the lee of the hill was oppressive as the sun rose high in the clear June sky. Leaning against the trunk of a great pine at the edge of the woods, she pushed the moist curls of red gold hair from her forehead. From where she stood, she could see the valley on one side, and on the other the high mountains to 12 the west. Far away, where the trees were less dense, there was the glitter of sun on a white house. Day after day she had looked toward it in wonder, with a vague, unformulated hope that life might be different there than it was in the Valley, different from anything she had ever known. But she had never climbed that high road. She had been told that the people of the Valley hated and distrusted the outlanders on the hills. Amanda sighed, the blue of her eyes deepening with the question she had so often asked herself: why, with this beautiful, green world around her, with the songs of birds waking her before dawn, and the stars brighter than lamps in the night sky, should there be hate? Her hands clenched hard. She knew too intimately what hate was like, not just the kind her father, Joseph Dyke, felt for the rich families on the hill. She herself hated things that happened— the Valley gi«s, fresh and pretty, forced to marry so young, made to work from morning till night, bearing children year RADIO AND TELEVISION MJW>°» after year until they were so weary they were almost glad to die. Somewhere—perhaps in that white house 'o which she lifted her eyes— life was not so cruel. And she hated J-harhe Harris because her father "ad promised her in marriage to mm. Her heart beat with a dull °nging for a beauty never yet seen, gentleness and kindness never yet experienced. s 2K she bought, "I'd been to mavh if.1 Could read in books' for-L*' Id know what I yearn The sun was high in the sky, and Amanda's eyes gauged its position as the only clock she could read. It was noon, and her father must be waiting in the cabin for her to cook their mid-day meal. "Yams, turnips-I dug them this morn. I ought to have been home before this. Pa'll say I've been loaf inHurriedly she stoked the fire and shut the do'or and was off, runmng lightly through the woods. And as she ran, she laughed; she could not be unhappy with the green glory of the world around her, filled with the scent of the sun on pine needles, and holding in her heart the knowledge that as long as she had not made her bridal quilt she could not, according to Valley custom, be married. To her relief the cabin was empty. Swiftly, she raked out the ashes on the hearth, swung the kettles over them and tossed in the yams and turnips. She glanced up to see her father in the doorway, and all the wonder of the day fled; her dreams had no power against the expression 13