Wire at : MAA AUS Be abet;
fn Se an cents = eeu a era
i
ive.org/details/ladieshomejourna71janwyet
July, 954
Ske grew up in the slums; ae ae ee) Ost N, ey quarreled, flew apart, fle tog’: ver.
The most delicous, humorous, heartwarming
mairied love story ever told,
by husband, Richard Alarich
PRIAUDE LAWRENCE AS MRS
ee VAS WITH MOINERS 9 OS .
A New Series
——— nnn a —_
Now— brush away footh decay after eating sweets !
New Ipana with WD-9 blocks formation of tooth-decay acids for hours. So always use it after eating...as your dentist recommends.
Almost everybody eats some sweets—a particularly satisfying source of quick energy.
But after eating sweets, you should cut down the risk of cavities . . . with new Ipana Tooth Paste. Here’s why.
Many foods team up with mouth bacteria and their enzymes to form tooth-decay acids. But WD-9 in new Ipana blocks formation of these acids for hours—because it is an active anti-enzyme and bacteria destroyer.
New minty flavor encourages children to brush teeth. No strong, medicinal taste in new Ipana with WD-9. And it
makes your mouth so fresh and clean that even one brushing protects your teeth aft er SW eer S
can stop most unpleasant mouth odor all day long.
7 8. Baa 2! ao
For best results, use new Ipana regularly after eating (the way most dentists recommend) BEFORE decay acids can do their damage. In a 2-year clinical test with hundreds of people who ate their normal amount of sweets, brush- ing this way prevented new cavities for most people.
So remember, while no dentifrice can stop all cavities—you can protect teeth from sweet foods by brushing this way with Ipana. Start today—get new white Ipana with WD-9.
Tr €1OOr
PRODUCT OF BRISTOL-MYERS
New IPANA with Wo-9
your INeM
Heart of
Freed
ym Gas Kitchen
LADIES' HOME JOURNAL
*. a new ROPER automatic “CP” Gas range; the really silent SERVEL Gas refrigerator with no moving parts to wear and a 10-year warranty. ale 1 aL)
ia alan rian
Look to GAS for the
Ss marte Of, kitchen in the world
Go ahead! Let your kitchen coddle you — you deserve it! Own a range — a new that will turn itself on and off with a clock control. Own a
i range that broils without smoking, bakes without burning,
citchen in th
automatic Gas range range you Can trust tn espond I
Only NK@ 4 Gives
ir slightest touch. Own a refrigerator with an ess and fuss of filling and refilling UI company or Gas appliance dealer rn living. That’s h to own the smartest S werican oss assocaron SUCH matchless performance
eratior . water-heating . . . house-heating . .. air-conditioning .* . clothes-drying . . . incineration.
RICHARD STODDARD ALDRICH tells such a great deal about himself as well
as his beloved actress-wife in Gertrude
Lawrence as Mrs. A (Page 26) that it hardly seems necessary to say more. He is one of the most distinguished men on the American theatrical scene. After he was graduated from Harvard, his family hoped he would be a_ banker, and he even tried to learn but soon gave it up. “The fascination of producing plays,” he says, “is in seeing them come to life. You start with nothing but a stack of typewritten pages and in a few ichard Aldrich Weeks or months you Ea transform them into flesh and blood. It’s creation—taking the author’s idea and making it live. Of course you hope to get your money back and show a profit, but the sense of creating something that didn’t exist before is your reward, and you have it even if the play fails. And that is why you always want to iry again.” And that is also why Richard Aldrich never really wanted to be a banker.
PeGGy DRAKE (Steak and Apple Pie, Page 30) reports: “I am a real West- erner and had never been east of Den- ver before I was married. I was born on Circus Day in
' Tucson, Arizona. My — ancestors were Mormon pi- oneers. I met Bill Drake in college and we were mar- ried two weeks after I graduated. We've accumu- lated a daughter,
meee ele Kathy, Kenneth anid: -Anidirea
(twins), and Nanki-Poo and Yum- Yum (twin Siamese cats). We live in Omaha, where my husband is Ne- braska manager of the United Press.”
If The Disappearance of Mary Blake (Page 32) makes you feel the writer knows the theater, you’re right. MARY Orr is both an actress and a writer. She began her career in the Broadway comedy Three Men on a Horse. Later, in col- laboration with her husband, Reginald Denham, she wrote, then acted in, their first play, Wallflower. \t ran fora season on Broad- way and became a Warner Brothers movie. She also helped icrey Orr to write, and acted
in, many television dramas. Her first short novel, written without her collaborator, became the Oscar-winning picture, All About Eve. This comedy won a Screen Writer’s Guild Award in 1950.
Contents
Novel Condensation Complete in This Issue
32 THe DisappEaRANcE oF Mary Brake, Mary Orr
Stories
30 Sreak anpD AppLE Pir, Peggy Bilby Drake 34 KATHERINE (Second part of six), Anya Seton 44 Tue Sunpay Smet, Naomi A. Hintze
Special Features
11 THe Farm Prosiem ano Me, Dorothy Thompson 21 Tet Me Docror, Henry B. Safford, M.D.
23 BurLpine INTERNATIONAL FRIENDSHIPS
23 New Dietomacy, Margaret Hickey
26 GertRUDE Lawrence As Mrs. A (First part of five), Richard Stoddard Aldrich
38 Tue Dreap Comesack, Morton Sontheimer
40 Rep Carper ror Mamie (Conclusion), Alden Hatch
42 Dr. Spock Tarks Wita Motuers, Benjamin Spock, M.D. 76 Is THereE 4 Pror AGatnst WomMEN?, Paul Jones
91 How Youne America Lives: Time or Our Lives, Jan Weyl
General Features 4 Our Reapers Write Us 6 Unper-Cover Sturr, Bernardine Kielty 8 TuHere’s 4 Manin THE House, Harlan Miller 16 Makinc Marriace Work, Clifford R. Adams 18 Some EncHantTeD EvENtNGs (The Sub-Deb), Edited by Ruth Imler 25 Fiery Years AGo e JouRNAL ABoutT TOWN 68 Ask Any Woman. Marcelene Cox 72 Gerrine Fatuer “Intro tHE Act’, Dr. Herman N. Bundesen 78 Tuts is AN UNFRIENDLY, Munro Leaf 118 Diary or Domesticity, Gladys Taber
Fashion and Beauty
48 We Live ar tHE Beacnu, Wilhela Cushman 50 “He Was tHE Man [ Wanrep.” Dawn Crowell Norman 96. 98 Very Easy tro Make, Nora O'Leary
Food
52 Look Wuo’s Cookine, Ann Batchelder 54 Line a Day, Ann Batchelder 108 Ov SourHERN SumMMeER KitcHEN, Dorothy Lehman Sumerau
Architecture and Interior Decoration
36 Porrscrove, Richard Pratt 46 Romantic Mopern, H. T. Williams 116 EveryTHinGc ror Comrort, Carol L. Mercado
Poems
59 Derrinc-Don’?, Georgie Starbuck Galbraith
67 Beauty Entire, Elizabeth Coatsworth
75 $1.18, Reeve Spencer Kelley
77 ~Ercutr-Year-Ovpd Boy, Robert P. Tristram Coffin 82 Brocrapuy, Cynthia Harris 105 SonNET TO AN AbopTED CutiLp, Jean Saunders 115 Wuar Woutp You?, Marion Lineaweaver
Cover Photograph by Tana Hoban
CHANGE OF ADDRESS
Send your new address at least 30 days before the date of the issue with which It Is to take effect. Address: LADIES’ HOME JOURNAL, INDEPENDENCE SQUARE, PHILADELPHIA 5, PA.
Send old address with the new, enclosing if’ possible your address label. The post office will not forward copies
unless you provide extra postage. Duplicate copies cannot be sent.
Ladies’ Home Journal, copyright 1954 by The Curtis Publishing Company in U. S. and Great Britain. “All rights reserved, Title registered in U. S. Patent Office and foreign countries. Published on last Friday of month preceding date by The Curtis Publishing Company, Independence Square, Philadelphia 5, Pa. Entered as Second Class Matter May 6, 1911, at the Post Office at Philadelphia under the Act of March 3, 1879, Entered as Second Class Matter at the Post Office Department, Ottawa, Canada, by Curtis Distributing Company, Ltd., Toronto,
Ont., Canada. The names of characters in all aS are fictitious, Any resemblance to living persons is a coincidence.
Subscription Prices: U.S., U.S. Possessions and Canada—! Yr., $3.50; 2 Yrs., $6; 3 Yrs., $8.50; 4 Yrs., $11. Costa Rica, Cuba, Doninicin RESaLIe Guatemala, Haiti, Mexico, Nicaragua, Panama, Philippine Islands, Republic of Honduras, Salvador, Spain and South America (except the Guianas)—1 Yr., $4. All other countries— 1 Yr., $7. Remit by Money Order or Draft on a bank in the U.S. payable in U.S. Funds. All prices subject to
change without notice. All subscriptions must be paid for in advance.
Unconditional Guaranty. \WVe agree, upon request direct from subscribers to the Philadelphia office, to re-
fund the full amount paid for any copies of Curtis publications not previously mailed,
also publishes The Saturday Evening Post, Country Gentleman, Jack and Jill, and Holiday.
The Curtis Publishing Company. Walter D. Fuller, Chairman of the Board; Robert E. MacNeal, President: Arthur W. Kohler, Vice-President and Advertising Director; Mary Curtis Zimbalist, Vice-President; Cary W. Bok, Vice-President; Lewis W. Trayser, Vice-President and Director of Manufacturing; Benjamin Allen, Vice-President and Director of Circulation; Donald M. Hobart, Vice-President and Director of Research; Brandon Barringer, Treasurer; Robert Gibbon, Secretary; Richard Ziesing, Jr., Manager of Ladies’ Home Journal. The Company
FREE! IO SUMMER COOL OFF RECIRES
Rhubarb Crunch
Tropic Cooler
Peppermint Freeze = la Mode
Apricot Flip Mestngues au Chocolat
Strawberry Rhubarb ' Almond Butterscotch Frost Puffs
Chocolate Banana Pink Pear Sundae
Float Chocolate Ripple Ice Cream Pie
Like to tempt tired summer appetites when the temperature soars? Try serving a tall, frosty cooler. Or a luscious ice cream dessert that tastes as good as it looks. You'll make these refreshers even more delicious if you use Meadow Gold Sherbet or Meadow Gold Ice Cream. That's because they re smooth- frozen, the special Meadow Gold way. Made with the finest ingredients money can buy. Why not treat fee family to a thirst- quench-
ing Tr opic Cooler soon ? ? And send for your Eomplete set of hot-weather recipes today
Recipe for Tropic Cooler
4 cup lime juice 4 cup sugar 1 quart sparkling water 2 pints Meadow Gold Lime Sherbet 2 lime slices, cut in half Maraschino cherries Combine juice and sugar. Pour into 4 chilled tall glasses. Fill three-quarters full with sparkling water. Mix well. Add scoops of Meadow Gold Lime Sherbet to each glass. Garnish each with half lime slice and maraschino cherry. Serves 4.
When your recipe calls for milk, be sure you use Meadow Gold Milk. It’s as pure and
creamy and good as milk can be!
\ Nesp file © - _ TAs rice - Beat Las
If rich desserts are not for you, here’s a happy thing to do—
have grapefruit instead
Spooning up each luscious forkful is fun, but only half the story. A Florida grapefruit salad can satisfy appetite and perk you up. Have it instead of a rich dessert and you keep your poundage down.
How so? Each can of sections or juice brings you a whole array of Florida-fresh health benefits. Vitamins are crowded in—lots of vitamin C, the buoyant health vitamin you need each day. And calories are crowded out. Reducing is easier, eating is fun—if you have grapefruit instead!
Worth ite wai . yorcn (S W t = i i i jul
ts weight in health — Florida grapefruit sections or juice in cans Plump sectior > ad j f’ f) I : oa | ions dea out ready, as is, fresher. A can of frozen concentrate puts for apes ast or dessert, or for salads. a pint and a half in a pitcher. Keep Lulveiy tasting juice is a wonderful re- chilled and ready to pour.
FLORIDA CITRUS COMMISSION, LAKELAND, FLORIDA
readers
write
She Likes, She Keeps...
Fort Worth, Texas Dear Editors: Years ago you gave us Eleanor Roosevelt's story, Bette Davis’, Joan Crawford's, John Gunther's, Karen's miracle story, the Little Princesses; and more lately Mother Was Human, Jimmy John’s, Elizabeth Taylor’s, and now Mrs. Eisenhower's, and in May, Anna Perrott Rose’s Tinchy, the ‘‘ Frightened Boy.”’ Should this very young-at-heart author live to be a hundred and five and take a wolf child to love and rear, please, editors, get the story for your readers. Is it any wonder that I like, I kiss, I keep... taking your wonderful maga- zine as long as my eyesight and money hold out? Thanks and best wishes to your whole staff. Sincerely, MRS. JACK G. WEST
& The Journat and Mrs. A. P. R. Wright thank Mrs. West and the many readers who wrote, for whom she stands as spokeswoman. For you all—another memorable JOURNAL event: Gertrude Lawrence as Mrs. A., surely the tender- est, most delightfully humorous and tempestuous true story of married love ever lived ortold. Begin iton Page 26. ED.
Kitchen Police?
Simonstown, South Africa
Dear Editor: If you are one of those who would shriek at the sight of a mouse on your kitchen table, what would you do if you returned home to find a huge hairy monkey climbing over the kitchen sink with your morning loaf of bread?
The housewives here in Simonstown, South Africa, for six months now have had to fight a running battle with baboons.
Not in our yard, please!
The other day a Mrs. Bennett re- turned from her morning drive to the station, and found three enormous, four- foot-high baboons in her kitchen.
With amazing presence of mind, she remembered reading that unless he feels himself cornered, the baboon will rarely attack a human being. So, leaving the kitchen door open, she rushed in herself by the side porch, making as much noise as possible. Fortunately, these were well- read specimens and knew what was ex- pected of them.
They did not wait for her to get there. The leader growled and barked like a dog as he jumped from the sink and, trailing the kitchen towel behind him, made a dash for the garden fence. Once they reached a safe distance, they all three sat down and defied her.
The raids are nearly always organized by groups of as many as ten or more. But the housewives of Simonstown are now up in arms, so there is only one way in which a battle like that can end.
Most sincerely, OLIVER K. WHITING
Lived In—And Loved
Orange, Connecticut
Dear Editors: 1 wonder if forty years from now someone will be loving the house they built from the plans of the little ‘‘Salt Box’’ house shown in March,
Journal house 40 years later.
1954, Lapies’ HOME JOURNAL. That is what I’m doing, loving greatly, a house, so comfortable, taken from April, 1912, LapigEs’ HOME JOURNAL and built in 1913. Sincerely,
MRS. CHESTER R. JONES
> Present indications are that more than 1800 families in all forty-eight states, Canada, and even East Africa will soon be living in Salt Boxes. ED,
Tottering Marriage Saved
Pasadena, California Dear Editors: For some months we have read your articles, Can This Mar- riage Be Saved. We knew our marriage was tottering on the brink of disaster, but were too afraid to act. Whenthings finally became desperate, we decided to ask the American Institute of Family Relations in Los Angeles for help, which they gave immediately and with the greatest tact. We have found we not only had our children in mind, we really adored each other and were too juvenile to admit it. Our life is wonderful! Our relations with the world are more secure and we are so grateful to all of you. We hope that many more like us can be helped. We know there are many who desire it. Let them hope and take action. They will never be sorry. Most sincerely, (Name Withheld)
Poisoned Relations
Greenwich, Connecticut
Dear Editors: J can only add another voice in deploring the detrimental effect of American crime comic books abroad. I have lived in India for eight years, and have heard repeatedly from Indian friends that America cannot want peace and at the same time allow these books to be published for their children.
We have an excellent United States Information Service in India. The Amer- ican Reporter which we publish is well written and widely read. All our con- structive effort is largely negatived by these books, which are like a poison in our foreign relations.
Cannot you use your influence to or- ganize some responsibility on the part of publishers to represent us abroad as honorably as we expect our Government to do? The moving-picture industry has had someone of integrity to establish standards of responsibility. Could there not be some such person to whom all ex- port of printed material would be re- ferred? And with that, publicity should be given to publishers and editors of all such periodicals which enter into affect- ing our foreign relations, for better or for worse. Publishers of worth-while maga- zines will not fear publicity.
We have freedom of the press, and freedom to drive an automobile. But in our driving, we are not free to injure our fellow men. Sincerely yours,
EVELYN WARREN-BOULTON
JULY, 1954
So alluring—so enchanting... this silken shimmer for your hair!
Just one shampoo with New Drene and your hair—
yes, yours—will shine like silk, feel like silk, act like silk!
This is a Hew Diene formula -—
so Mild you could shampoo every day!
A PRODUCT OF PROCTER & GAMBLE
Hardworking Mrs. Marilyn Bridgman of Watermill, New York has discovered that only Jergens Lotion gives her hands the care they need. She says:
“T scour 4500 pots and pans
a year... but I avoid detergent hands with Jergens Lotion !”
Detergents are wonderful—but they could have ruined Marilyn’s pretty hands. Yet her hands are soft and lovely still. Why?
Jergens Lotion! This famous formula has been continuously improved for fifty years to help heal chapped red hands instantly!
\ } ] { 3 No other lotion worl aster. o1
penetrates
Contains two softening ingredients doctors
deeper. Lovelier hands at once! Jergens have used for years. Yet, you pay less for neve yy cticl Y nn } . ? nfo : never leaves a sticky film (as many others do). Jergens, the world’s favorite hand care.
Use Jergens Lotion-avoid detergent hands
THE SATURDAY EVENING POST
“het’s face it. We’re not getting away from it all, we’re taking it with us!”
ULY., if ever, is the time to relax—
that long month of long hot days when you dream of the trips you want to take. It’s the time to cast off worry, to get into the car and drift along at thirty-five miles an hour with the top down, to wander off into the hills, foot-loose and fancy-free.
I just read the travel diary of a man who did the 1744 equivalent. He was Dr. Alexander Hamilton (not the Ham- ilton). He got on his horse and for four months rode over the countryside from Annapolis to Maine and back again. He found the roads good, and also the service on the fifty ferries he had to take. The women in Newport were the “‘prittiest’’ he saw, and those in Albany the ugliest. The ‘‘muscettoes” in Long Island were bad. The best company and conversation were in New York, but there were too many “‘toapers’’; he got tired of “nothing but their excessive drinking.” In Boston he lived at a board- inghouse on Beacon Hill from which he had a view of the whole town and the peninsula cn which it stands! GENTLE- MAN’S PROGRESS, the Itinerarium of Dr. Alexander Hamilton, edited by Carl Bridenbaugh. (University of North Carolina Press, 1948.)
I’ve heard it said that the most useful thing you can take traveling with you is in- formation. That you shouldn't read just one book on the subject, but as many as you can lay your hands on. And that doesn’t mean books about Italy or Sweden or England any more than it means San Francisco.
The European guidebooks are a library in themselves. The Baedeker type, that tells all—that counts the train stops and names each mountain peak—is indispensable in the foreign country itself, in my opinion. This would be the Nagel or the Muirhead or the Blue Guide—whichever one deals with the country you’re visiting.
For reading ahead of time and taking notes, I have found two very satisfactory series of travel books. Virginia Creed’s ALL ABOUT AUSTRIA and ALL ABOUT IRELAND are excellent. I can’t imagine enjoying those countries quite so much without having primed up on them from
an authority. There are also ALL ABOUT
ITALY, ALL ABOUT SPAIN, ALL ABOUT —
HOLLAND. (Holt.)
Equally helpful and full of light- hearted suggestions are the Horace Sutton books, FOOTLOOSE IN FRANCE, FOOTLOOSE IN ITALY, and so on. (Rinehart.) In both these series you get the point of view of history- minded, sophisticated, sensible peo- ple who pick and choose, and do not recommend indiscriminately.
AROUND THEATERS is a collection of Max Beerbohm’s reviews of London plays and people from 1898 to 1910. These were the years when he was dramatic critic on The Saturday Review, succeeding George Bernard Shaw. He
saw everything—the opening night of =~
Peter Pan and of The Passing of the Third Floor Back, even Henry James’ play which was a sure-fire failure. But the special charm of the book is its turn-of-the-century air, its wit, its elegance.
The things that happen these days in the theater would make the inimi- table Max turn in his grave—if he were in it. But he isn’t. He is now over eighty, and graduated to radio.
THE FLAW IN THE CRYSTAL, by Godfrey Smith, is a first-rate English suspense novel, based on the disap- pearance of the two British Foreign Office men, Burgess and McLean. (For what it is worth: I heard that these two were seen in Berlin during the Four Power meeting last winter.)
Daphne du Maurier, who from time to time has used her fine pen on her rela- tives—Gerald: A Portrait, The Young George du Maurier (letters edited), The Du Mauriers—has now written a histor- ical novel, MARY ANNE, about her great- great-grandmother. Mary Anne Clarke was the mistress of the Duke of York, son of George III, and protagonist in one of the liveliest scandals in the history of Great Britain. The book follows her from childhood in the London slums, through the mazes of political intrigue to her final exile in France. END
LY, 1954
& OLD N WHITE SALAD with cottage cheese
d Pineapple Slices. Inviting and easy-to-fix for family meals d informal buffet entertaining. On platter, with crisp lettuce ives, heap mound of cottage cheese. Decorate generously with ained Pineapple Slices. Accompany with French dressing
fruit salad dressing
“Tempt em with Pineapple canned tropic-fresh
Nature's most refreshing flavo
f . CRUSHED
. sk Lene SRC 99 - . canned Pineapple, good to eat “as is, Probably there never was a salad canned Pineapple X also makes delicious pies, cookies, pud- / di S. 101 rS, s | Ss. ¢ ‘ eS, ja s . . . n . NS Eee eee ee couldn’t improve! By adding a golden glamor-look . .. by making old favorites ‘\“ hae / = ) R . taste new. As with salads, so with main-course meats—with desserts — eee ff < 7 . . ‘ ee fi and bakings, fruit servings, too—the more canned Pineapple A Pon <—— in your eating the more you'll like all that you eat. f Keep a “PINEAPPLE SHELF” in your kitchen with all 5 forms J y PINEAPPLE JUICE ' of this tropic fruit. Reach often for the pleasure flavor tastes wonderful any time ; y a : : you're thirsty. Chill and a) CHUNKS stored by Nature in canned Pineapple! shake well before serving =
of canned Pineapple (bite-size) and the } smaller Tidbits are favorites for fruit cups, to sauté with meat, for salad-making and
"aie 5 ° PineapepLeE GROWERS ASSOCIATION, San Francisco =e to sprinkle on puddings and cereals
She stuck in her thumb,
And pulled out PINK PLUM
And cried, “What a smart girl am I!”
Smart girl, indeed! For what could be more tempting to the lips than the sun- ripe, sun-sweet color of fresh plums? And what more effective accent to the whole new range of Paris blues, off- pinks, charcoal and black? (Nice, too, to know that Cashmere Bouquet’s Pink Plum stays pink, stays on—for hours—without re-touching!)
7 Cover-Girl Colors AO¢
cashmere
Conover girls pick Cashmere Bouquet
oy a ih Sa r. we f 4 Yep . 27 WF IP \o Zp
ER) aaah? “We teach our Conover School stu- dents how to use Cashmere Bouquet Indelible-Type lipstick. They apply, splash cold water on their lips, then blot. The color clings for hours!”
Sows Cae)
Director Conover School
bouquet
INDELIBLE-TYPE LIPSTICK
Super-Creamed to Keep Your Lips Like Velvet
[NIE a
It lie
by Harlan filler
“Why, Mrs. Johnson, I hoped you were going to bring your little
boy with you again.”
© B. A. AND CO., LTD.—*‘THE BEST CARTOONS FROM PUNCH”
A husband does change with the years ; he even gets milder... . lused to exclaim bitterly when there wasn’t a pencil at the phone ; now I meekly put a dozen pencils there every week in the hope there'll be one when I need it.
Not that I really miss Fourth of July firecrackers. But I wouldn’t ob- ject too much if Ike fired a cap pistol near a White Ilouse microphone to be broadcast coast to coast, power- fully amplified, for the encourage- ment of all true patriots.
When the archaeologists and geolo- gists dig into our rock garden an aeon from now, they’ll be baffled to explain how Oregon rocks, Florida beach sea shells and pebbles from Martha’s Vine- yard ali got blended there.
Our luncheon club’s deep thinker argues that Acheson, Marshall and Dulles are so dissimilar that Senator McCarthy couldn’t possibly hate ‘emallif they hadn't each been Sec- retary of State, dealing with fur- riners.
I’ve resolved to spend at least twice as much time with books, magazines and newspapers as with radio and TV... . Or maybe three times... . If the Rus- sians can soften us up with low-grade radio, TV and the comics, they'll never need an atom bomb.
At the bridge table we agree that nothing rekindles love “twixt wife and husband so quickly as the news that other couples rough each other up with flirtations and quarrels, yet remain happy. Magic formula for a hug and kiss after a morning brawl: “Others have it bumpier!”’
‘“*My husband often asks me,” reports Betty Comfort to her dearest chum over midmorning coffee, ‘“‘what Rubirosa’s got that he hasn’t got. I tell him Rubirosa’s probably more helpful with the dishes.”
It’s delightful to observe better man- ners among the younger generation. . . . ! was watching a five-hour-old baby through a big window at a hospital when he yawned prodigiously. But instantly he covered the yawn with a small hand.
Some of my severest locker-room critics argue I’d improve my golf game if 'd keep score more carefully. But shucks, all I ask of golf is to walk on the velvety fairway, once or twice out- drive with my old No. 1 iron the op- ponent smuggest about his new wooden clubs.
LADIES’ HOME JOURNA
al
USE
“My boy tells me,”’ confides Peter Comfort, mixing some poison-ivy spray, ‘“‘that there’s $90,000,000 worth of gold in every cubic mile of sea water. And he thinks I've got a direct pipeline to it!’
Between neighbors, supreme polite- ness must prevail, as between two East- ern potentates. That’s why, after I’ve waited a year for their return, I always borrow back my rakes from my neigh- bors without batting an eye.
If you love a girl, anything she does is delectable. | was once en- chanted by a girl who liked to crum- ble soda crackers on her ice cream... . In memoriam, I still crumble crack- ers on my ice cream, occasionally to the b.w.’s baffement.
Our youngest argues strongly for a power lawn mower. But I retort that our yard is level, and occupied largely by a concrete tennis court. Anyhow, he and I need the exercise; mostly he.
Another family argument Ive never won: whether to eat the skins of broiled fish or of Maine baked potatoes. Epicures say yes; but my beloved ones still spurn skins. I still eat “em, with a hangdog look; but I don’t argue any more.
I can no longer conceal nay deep love for our Aunt Daisy... . Of all the eightyish ladies I know, she’s the most positive that we of the younger generation aren’t really going to the dogs, we’re just putting it on.
... When you suddenly discover that you and Junior can talk the same language,
... And your daughter agrees to let her red hair grow out, without a $25 bonus,
.. . Or your youngest tiptoes into your room at 3 A.M. and turns out your bed lamp and takes the book off your chest,
... And your Lady of Sheer Delight agrees with you ten times in a row (or you agree with her and think she agrees with you)...
Then you can stop muttering to your- self or raiding the icebox for midnight solace, and kiss her on the ear when she least expects it.
LY, 1954
LADIES' HOME JOURNAL}
Now you can cook Fresh Vegetables without boiling away that garden-fresh flavor
\
- POINT retain
tr Kh £1L BAKING : ber is TAKES COOKIES asc SvEr
VITH CAKE IMPRE
Here’s All You Do!
For beans — melt 2 tablespoons of Spry in
heavy saucepan. Add 114 lbs. of sliced beans, salt, pepper, 14 cup water. Mix light- ly together. Cover and cook over medium heat 18 minutes, or until tender.
For carrots — melt 2 tablespoons Spry, add
3 cups of sliced carrots, salt, 2 tablespoons
water. Cook as above for 13 minutes.
When you cook your vegetables this
way, there’s no liquid left to drain off...
so the vitamins and garden-fresh flavor are #
in the vegetables. They’ll taste wonderful,
or Lever Brothers will return your money.
pry makes just about everything you cook taste better!
Ladies’
Executive Editor, Mary Bass Managing Editor: Laura Lou Brookman
Associate Editors: Hugh MacNair Kahler, Bernardine Kielty, Ann Batchelder, Wilhela Cushman, William E, Fink, Richard Pratt,
Henrietta Murdock, Louella G. Shouer, Mary Lea Page, Dawn Crowell Norman, Margaret Davidson,
Nora O’Leary, Barbara Benson, Glenn Matthew White, Donald Stuart, Ruth Imler, Tina S. Fredericks, Helen Everitt, Peter Briggs
Contributing Editors: Gladys Taber, Louise Paine Benjamin, Gladys Denny Shultz, Margaret Hickey, Betty Kidd, Ruth Mills Teague
Editorial Associates: John Werner, Charlotte Johnson, Ruth Mary Packard, Ruth Shapley Matthews, Alice Conkling, Joseph Di Pietro, Anne Einselen, Elizabeth Goetsch, Nancy Crawford,
Cynthia McAdoo Wheatland, Rosemary Jones, Nelle Keys Perry, Adrina Kayaian
Assistant Editors: Victoria Harris, Alice Kastberg, Virginia Price, Marion Wilson, Dorothy Anne Robinson, Jean Todd Freeman, Elizabeth McFarland, Eileen Sharpe, Albert Serwazi, Dolores Knapp
Editorial Assistants: Lee Stowell Cullen, Patricia Martin, Aileen Dowd, June Schwartz, Gretchen Wehler, Babette Brimberg, Joyce Posson,
Nancy Terry, Flora Casparian, Betty Jo Ramsey, Lee Ellerich, Constance Holland, Helen Schofield Lukacs, Alberte Wright, Chessy Rayner,
Simone Smith, Betty Coe Spicer, Carol Mercado
By DOROTHY THOMPSON
By the time this article appears I shall have relieved by an infinitesimal fraction the head- aches of Mr. Ezra Benson, the Secretary of Agriculture. There will have been an auction on my Vermont farm, in which I will have disposed of a herd of registered Jersey cows and young stock and of the major portion of a shedful of farm machinery which cost me thousands of dollars.
The market being what it is, I anticipate whopping losses. What some of my friends and members of my family have called “Dorothy’s Folly” is ending.
Yet the farm has not been a “‘hobby.”” My sincere ambition has been to make the farm pay, or at least to make it break even. It hasn’t, and it won’t. Now I know it.
For twelve years it has provided one or another farmer and his family with a modest but comfortable living. I mean it has partly done so. For when receipts are balanced against grain bills, extra labor in the haying season, expenditures for gas, seed and fer- tilizer, maintenance and repair of machinery and buildings, veterinarian fees, fencing, utilities and insurance, leaving out interest on capital investment, it turns out that mamma is supporting those lovely, big-eyed Jerseys with her typewriter—at the standard of living which they and the milk inspectors demand, but beyond their owner’s means.
I shall drop a tear when the darlings are loaded onto the trucks. But I can’t go on ex- pending my life for cows. I know the books— down to the last detail. They balance, but with the checks from articles, or the returns of a lecture trip. I can get more net from the rent of the furnished farmhouse—and sweet, comfortable and comely it is—to ‘‘summer folks” than I ever have from milk checks.
Home Journal
Bruce Gould and Beatrice Blackmar Gould,
he farm problem and me
Ive done everything I was advised to do by the county agent and the U. S. Soil Com- missioner. The Extension Service of the De- partment of Agriculture has given me an extended education at the taxpayers’ cost. But what it has never been able to demon- strate is how to make a medium-sized finan- cially unencumbered farm of some eighty arable acres, between twenty and forty milk cows and young stock, supplemented by a small flock of sheep and some five hundred laying hens, and all of them doing fine, sup- port not me and my family, but the bedrock costs necessary to work it, and to return a modest income to its working manager.
This is not a notion but a fact. It occurred to me to rent the land and buildings, including a furnished dwelling house, all in excellent condition and the buildings insured (for less than their value) for $25,000. I didn’t want to cheat anyone and inquired of the county agent what would be a fair price. He replied that he would not advise any farmer with little or no equity in necessary machinery to engage himself for more than $50 a month. That’s about | percent on my investment, with me continuing to pay taxes, insurance and major repairs. The price would barely cover taxes. But I agreed with the county agent that anyone working for cash income and paying more would get, at best, a bare living.
I have no complaint about “‘lazy”’ farmers. All of them can quip that they don’t expect an eight-hour day but would settle for an eight-hour night. In fact, I have no “com- plaints.’ But I am in a position earned by ex- perience to know something about the assets and liabilities of the medium-sized farm, and have some views about its future. As a means of producing cash income it is too small.
“Landscape with Cottage and Hay Barn,” by Rembrandt van Rijn (1606-69). National Gallery of Art, Rosenwald collection.
Farms can succeed financially when they are large enough to employ a full-time, well- paid and expert manager, preferably the owner himself, and sufficient resident uid seasonal labor to be worked, as factories are worked, by division of labor, in operational units. A herd of a hundred or more milk cows, a flock of five thousand chickens, a range of several thousand beef cattle or sheep are “‘economic.”’ Such great farms actually supply most of the food consumed by the nonfarming, and even by much of the farm- ing population.
But there is another form of farming of ancient and stable ancestry. That is the farm- ing that does not produce for cash money, but for family consumption.
The farm owner whose effort is to house, feed and raise a large, healthy, joyful family must reduce his farm operations to what can be accomplished in part-time work by him- self, his wife, his children, and occasional labor hired for a specific and limited purpose. He must earn his cash income working forty hours a week in a factory, office, store or profession, and he must find his farm within reach of such opportunities and within reach of good schools! If I could have my way there would be tens of thousands more small fac- tories in this country, in or on the outskirts of nearly every medium-sized village, many of them tied in with the great factories of the nation, and their workers would live on little home-farms, run only to feed their families— actually extended gardens.
For the productivity of land is an awesome miracle. Ten acres of properly conditioned and cared-for land, cultivated solely to feed the stock and people living on it, can supply in abundance most CONTINUED ON PAGE 14
“Pure California lemon juice already squeezed for you!) All you add is water!”
SE sees PS a nah wy ae —— - a
CONCENTRATE FOR
YOUR CHOICE OF MANY FINE BRANDS
EMON PRODUCTS ADVISORY B D, los Angeles, California
“Cool! Quick! Luscious!
Make ’em both the easy, easy way!
Wouldn’t your family go for that big, friendly-looking tray of ice-cold lemon- ade — with a high, light ’n honey of an angel food cake? Just the thing for summer afternoons — or nights company time, or just ‘‘family.”’ And it’s so simple! All you have to do is to open one of those convenient
small cans of Frozen Lemonade from California and add water — one six- ounce can makes a quart of the finest lemonade. You couldn’t make better if you ‘‘squoze’’ the lemons and ‘“squooshed” the sugar yourself! Trim with fresh mint and add a gay red cherry! Looks wonderful — tastes fine!
Cake ’n Lemonade! ” says Baty
Easy as easy, too, to have that big white cake all ready. Just bake it in the morning from our newest pride and joy — our Betty Crocker Angel Food Cake Mix. Bakesacake ashigh, aslight, as angel-perfect as Betty Crocker’s own best 13-egg angel food recipe.
Anyone can bake it. All the fine coun- try egg whites you need are right in the
package. And, especially with ice-cold lemonade, angel food cake tastes so heavenly you just don’t need an icing.
Stock up now for summer week-ends —stock up for fun with lots of Cali- fornia’s finest frozen concentrate for lemonade — and with Betty Crocker’s finest — the new Betty Crocker Angel Food Cake Mix. It's C-O-O-L!
Crocker
OF GENERAL MILLS
A perfect cake every time you bake —
cake .
after cake . .
after cake
14
NOW! the tested treatment
for INFECTIOUS DANDRUFF that has helped thousands
of Men and Women
LISTERINE ANTISEPTIC ... Kills millions of germs
including the stubborn “Bottle Bacillus” cp. ovate)
ANY PEOPLE never realize that they have infectious dandruff until they see those recurring telltale flakes and scales on the hair, coat or dress shoulder. When dandruff is due to germs, it’s a real infection so don’t neglect it. It calls for quick treatment --. persistent treatment... antiseptic treatment! So start right now with regular use of Listerine Antiseptic and massage
twice a day. Kills ‘‘Bottle Bacillus’’
Listerine Antiseptic gives your hair and scalp a thorough antiseptic bath
-.. treats the infection as an infection
CHILDREN AREN’T IMMUNE
should be treated . . . with real germ- killing action.
Yes, Listerine Antiseptic kills mil- lions of germs associated with dan- druff, including the stubborn ‘‘Bottle Bacillus” (P. ovale), the very germ that so many dermatologists say isa causative agent of the trouble.
Improvement in 76% of Test Cases
Remember, in clinical tests twice-a- day use of Listerine Ant iseptic brought complete relief or marked improve- ment in dandruff symptoms within a month to 76% of dandruff sufferers. Lambert Pharmacal Company Divi- sion of The Lambert Company.
At the first symptom... Listerine Antiseptic— Quick!
CONTINUED FROM PAGE 11
of the food, except sugar, coffee, tea, flour, salad oil, and salt and pepper, for a family of eight to ten people.
I know what I am talking about. The one unquestionable asset we have from our farm is not what we sell but what we eat ourselves.
One reason the nation’s storehouses are glutted with butter, meat and dried eggs is that thousands of men who produce them can’t afford to feed them to their own folks, because they need cash to pay for machinery
- and other costs. So farmers selling thousands
of pounds of milk per month to creameries eat margarine, and tilling scores of acres of land eat canned vegetables and store meat. We sell at a loss but consume at a profit. At this moment 30 cubic feet of freezer space on our farm is crammed with veal, lamb, pork, poultry, every vegetable that grows, and raspberries, strawberries and peaches. On shelves in the storage cellar are 250 quart-or pint jars of corn, succotash (no room in the freezer), tomatoes canned and in purée form, mincemeat, sauerkraut, dill, mustard, and bread-and-butter pickles, fruit, boiled cider, jams and jellies. Except for prime beef, I never buy a pound of meat, whether living on the farm or in New York, to which I have it shipped, and where I have another, smaller freezer. Cream desserts, and cakes made with six or more eggs, are no luxury on the farm. I don’t earn my liy- ing by raising food, but I save enormously by so doing—and consuming it in the family. I lose only by selling it. My real trouble is our family isn’t big enough to eat what we could pro- duce, not on 80 acres— and counting rough pas-
LADIES’ HOME JOURNAL
a cow, in case you don’t know, milks 305 days a year and is dry 60 before calving). A flock of five or six ewes (sheep), fifty laying hens, one or two hogs. One first-rate Jersey cow will produce 30 or more pounds of very rich milk per day.
Bux she’s going to fetch a fancy price and I'd settle for two pretty good ones, whose barn records show they average 24 pounds each per day. Don’t buy a cow in a poke or trust your own discerning eye. Buy only from a DHIA (Dairy Herd Improvement Association) herd. Members of this associa- tion, who support it themselves, are visited every month on unannounced days, by an expert dairyman who himself tests each cow in two milkings according to the amount she eats, the milk she gives and its butter- fat content. He’s impartial and accurate. So don’t buy Mary, Daisy or Jill without seeing what she’s produced during the previous year of lactation. And don’t buy her if the butterfat content of her milk is under 5 per cent.
Two such cows should give you 48 pounds (24 quarts) of milk a day, of which you will take, say, 4 quarts (8 pounds) for your fam- ily—with much more cream content than you'll ever get in the milk you normally buy. You can lift your coffee cream from the top of the bottle. That leaves you 280 pounds per week to separate into cream and skim milk. If you use a quart of heavy cream per week, you will have sufficient left to churn from 7 to 8 pounds of butter (25—27 pounds of milk to make a pound of butter). And
you will feed your skim milk and buttermilk to your calves (when _ they appear), and to your
ture, bogs and woods, over 400—but on a max- imum of ten.
To be happy is not the purpose of our being, but to deserve happiness.
—J. H. FICHTE
hogs, hens and pullets. You will raise the pasturage on which your
These ten ideal acres, in the farm for home abundance that I en- visage, would be divided:
1 acre for homeand buildings, lawn, shrub-
bery and flowers.
¥s acre potatoes.
's acre vegetables.
¥ acre fruit.
3 acres of prime pasture
3 acres of prime hay.
2°% acres of wood lot. 7
A potato patch of '« acre will produce all a family can eat, as well as seed for the next crop.
On the !s acre of my own vegetable gar- den I grow every vegetable that will flour- ish in the Tuscan gardens around Florence, Italy: lettuce of many varieties, including Oak Leaf, which survives sharp frosts; bushels of asparagus; green, wax, pole, shell and Lima beans; peas, and the too seldom grown “sugar peas’ of which you eat pod and all; sweet corn of earlier and later varieties, tomatoes (bushels of them), leeks, onions, garlic, winter and summer squash, salad and pickling cucumbers, spinach, car- rots, beets, salsify. Plants, started in a cold frame, produce broccoli, cauliflower, kohl- rabi, eggplant, celery, peppers and cabbage— white, red and savoy. An herb garden, of about 6’ x 10’, produces every herb men- tioned in the Gourmet Cookbook.
Feo July onward our kitchen, and the colonnaded porch that shades it, often re- sembles a factory, with everyone shelling peas, cutting beans, cleaning broccoli. One can’t read and write a// day. I'd rather help my cook, a countrywoman neighbor, than go to a cocktail party or play golf, and the house guests are drawn in, apparently to their city-weary pleasure.
My ideal !s-acre fruit orchard would have twelve fruit trees: five apples, three pears, two plums and two cherries. Peaches and apricots won’t grow in New England. But there would be five or six grapevines (trained on poles with telephone wires stretched be- tween) a 50’ row of red and black raspberries, currants and a few blueberries, and a 12’ x 12’ plot of strawberries.
Two cows (bred to freshen at different times, so there would always be one milking;
cows feed in summer, and the hay on which they feed in winter, and buy the grain rations they are fed at milking time—one pound to every three pounds of milk. This is a high ratio, but see how the cows take it. Cows rarely overeat. They aren’t humans.
You will hire a man with a tractor to cut your three acres of hay, two for the cows and one for half-a-dozen sheep. It must be first- class, high-protein hay, producing at about three tons to the acre, and it will cost you to plant it in the first place, for labor, with ma- chinery, seed and fertilizer-—and have the soil tested first—about $200. But hay is a perennial and if you keep it manured and lime-dressed it won’t need replanting for six to eight years. Harvesting by a hired worker with his own machinery will cost about $60.
Your two cows will reproduce themselves each year, and until you foresee the advisa- bility of replacing one or another of them raise their calves for veal, feeding them your) fortified not too heavily skimmed milk, a raw egg daily, and nothing else. They should) each weigh 150 pounds slaughtered and skinned.
Half-a-dozen sheep should yield you the same number of lambs in April, and be pas- ture-fed except when the ewes are lambing) and must have grain, or you’re fattening the lambs for three weeks before slaughtering. And you will raise lambs, dressing at 25 pounds each, superior to any you have ever eaten. Don’t sell your sheep’s wool. When you’ve accumulated a couple of shearings send the wool to a factory that will weave it into blankets, cloth or knitting wool, at a fraction of the price you’d pay for goods of equal quality. There is at least one such place in Maine.
As far as possible, make your land fulfill two functions. Your orchard, thickly planted to Ladino clover, will be an ideal range for the fifty pullets you will raise to layers each year, and what they eat off the ground will reduce your grain bill by 20 per cent. So will skim-milk and buttermilk rations.
A sheep tethered so he can’t reach flowers or shrubs will mow your lawn and like it.
*
CONTINUED ON PAGE 69
Just add to boiling water for perfect rice every time!
No washing! No rinsing! No draining! No steaming!
You don’t boil Minute Rice. You merely add this pre-cooked rice to boiling water, remove from heat—and presto! The whitest, fluffiest, most delicious rice that ever brightened a dinner table! No work, no watching, no sticky pans. And Minute Rice is foolproof—you get perfect results every time! Thrifty, too—costs just pennies per serving. Be sure to get the big economy package.
Product of General Foods
Ready In No Time... Welcome Anytime! MINUTE RICE WITH CLUB STEAK
Surest way to a man’s heart—a sizzling steak with plenty of fluffy rice to soak
up the juices! What could be easier, with handy Minute Rice so easy to prepare? For 4, simply add 113 cups Minute Rice and 4 teaspoon salt to 114 cups boiling water. Cover; remove from heat; let stand 13 minutes. Look how every grain swells up plump and separate—perfect rice for certain, without work or guesswork !
You'll find dozens of delicious ways to serve this wonderful rice—with meat, poultry, sea food—in soups, casseroles, desserts. Exciting recipes on
every package—“‘quickie” treats only Minute Rice makes!
h
aking marriage work
By CLIFFORD R. ADAMS, Ph.D
Pennsylvania State University, Department of Psycholo,
Many brides worry because their emotional acceptance of sex is incomplete at first.
How a Bride Adjusts to Marriage
HIS summer and fall, thousands of
young couples will be busy “getting set-
tled” in their new homes. Before the wedding the most urgent practical questions were decided, such as where to live, whether the bride should work, and how to budget the income. Now household arrangements must be worked out in detail, and everyday necessities of life provided routinely.
Meals must be cooked, furniture placed; there are pictures to hang, grass to cut, letters to write. The budget makes no allowance for dry cleaning, the living-room sofa doesn’t fit its space, a change in the bus schedule compli- cates transportation to work. Even trivial do- mestic problems require attention, and the major responsibility falls on the bride.
In her preoccupation with the mechanics of the household, it is important that she does not lose sight of other objectives. For the vital ele- ment in any marriage is the personal relation- ship between husband and wife. And the qual- ity of that relationship in the future is greatly influenced by the couple’s emotional adjust- mei” now. Practical problems during these first months of marriage, however pressing, are seldom crucial unless they impede or delay ad- justment.
Sensible young couples know that each part- ner will have to adapt to the tastes, habits and attitudes of the other. But the process of ad- justment is more complex than that. It involves the interplay of all their separate qualities of mind, heart and character, and also of their physical characteristics and sexual needs. Too often, the relationship between husband and wife is handicapped at the beginning by the bride’s inadequate or faulty understanding of the role of sex in marriage.
To be sure, the modern girl is probably bet- ter informed about sex than her mother was. Through discussion, reading and _ perhaps courses in marriage she has become intellec- tually aware that sex is an essential part of mar- riage. On the conscious level, she rejects the old-fashioned idea that sex is a wife’s unwel- come duty, a husband’s right.
But her emotional acceptance may be incom- plete, and hampered by inward feelings she her- self doesn’t recognize. As a single girl she was taught to control and restrain her sexual im- pulses (if not actually to be ashamed of them). After years of practice in being sexually unre- sponsive, it is not surprising if she is slow to re- spond fully in marriage.
Her husband, though disappointed, will try to understand and be patient. He, too, wants their relationship to be based on co-operation and mutual desire. But because sexual respon- siveness typically develops earlier in men than in women, his self-denial will impose a real hardship on him.
The ideal time to seek improvement, if needed, is in the early months of marriage, when the desire to please each other is most intense,
and before resentments, constraints and mis- understandings have become habitual. But as many letters that have come to us recently show, wives often don’t recognize the difficulty until they have been married several years, when the situation is much harder to correct.
Any wife who wants love to endure will try from the beginning to meet her husband’s needs in this as in other respects. She will do so, not because it is her duty or his right but because sex is the physical means of expressing love. Her very wish to please her husband will in- crease his appreciation and understanding. In self-forgetfulness, happiness will be found.
Can May Marry December?
““\\T nineteen, I married a man fifteen years - \ my senior. The difference in age seemed unimportant then, but, ten years later, it has be- come a serious obstacle to my happiness and I suppose to his. I thought I loved him, but I didn’t. We have no children, and if I didn’t have a job I couldn’t stand the monotony of our marriage. He wants to stay at home every night, I want to go out occasionally. He is nar-
Ask Yourself: Are Our Standards Compatible?
Research shows that compatibility of hus- band and wife depends more upon their being socially than intellectually well mated. The greatest identification results when their atti- tudes and standards are in harmony. Circle the number of each item below which you believe applies to your marriage.
We hold and practice about the same stand- ards in regard to: 1. Telling the truth and being ethical. 2. Provision for, and use of, leisure time. 3. Smoking, profanity and drinking. 4. Respect and consideration owed rela-
tives.
5. Paying debts and handling money mat- ters.
6. Selection of, and association with, friends.
=
7. Personal grooming and neatness of dress.
8. The courtesies we show each other.
9. Religious beliefs and observances.
10. Keeping confidences and avoiding gos- sip.
11. Behavior toward persons of opposite sex.
12. Training our children.
13. The meaning and aims of marriage.
14. Time that we share as ours alone.
In the most compatible and happiest mar- riages, 11 or more similarities are designated. The average marriage scores 8 to 10, while in- compatible marriages total 7 or fewer. Instead of blaming your husband for not thinking as you do, why not try to work out an acceptable compromise? Note that similarity of beliefs is stressed, rather than the beliefs themselves.
row, selfish, has no sense of humor and frowns upon any frivolity, his name for anything that isn’t useful. The only reason I put up with him is because he would be miserable if I left him. The road ahead is so depressing that I don’t know what to do.”
No two individuals considering marriage can afford to disregard an age barrier as wide as this. Though the couple may seem congenial initially, differences may appear later. Further, as they grow older, the gap may widen rather than narrow. As in this case, the elder partner loses interest in activity and recreation outside the home along with the decrease in his physical energy; but the wife, still a young woman, craves some of the gaiety and fun enjoyed by her contemporaries. The bitterness of the argu- ment is likely to be intensified by the husband’s envy (conscious or not) of his wife’s youth, her resentment of his assumption of authority.
Such marriages can be happy. But to an even greater extent than in conventional marriages, success depends on the efforts and resources of the wife. The suggestions listed below, based on our research, are directed primarily to wives al- ready married to older men. But the young woman considering such a marriage may be guided in her decision by asking herself if she is equipped for the required role.
She accepts his goals. Most young married couples naturally share many objectives. Both want a home, a family, job success; they work together to achieve them. But the mature hus- band has achieved or modified his earlier ambi- tions. His wife cannot expect him to retrace the
' steps he took as a younger man. Instead, she
must identify herself with his goals.
She establishes common interests. Here again, when husband and wife are the same age, they naturally gravitate toward many of the same pursuits. But whereas a young wife likes movies, dancing and popular music, her older husband enjoys reading, symphony concerts or an eve- ning of bridge. Instead of forcing her prefer- ences on him, or abandoning all her accustomed pursuits, the wife tries to find among their separate interests some that both can share, a circle of friends agreeable to both. Otherwise their companionship is unrewarding.
She respects his judgment. This is not only the tactful course to follow, it is common sense. Because of his wider. experience, she should ac- cept his opinion when possible, and respect it always.
Shared goals, companionship and respect are essential components of any marriage. The husband and wife who love each other deeply and wisely enough can cultivate them and achieve happiness, regardless of age.
Do You Agree?
Do you believe in high-school boys and girls going steady?
No. An individual -needs te know and date as many as twenty-five or thirty persons to learn how to make a suitable choice of a mate.
! | |
(no doubt about it)
The only leading cake mixes with country-fresh
ggs right in the mix MILK IS ALL YOU ADD
Ter ee ce EAD MN AD ag he Bi)
YELLOW W
CHOCOLATE FUDGE GOLDEN YELLOW
HOBAN-GALLOB
xs There'll be stars in his eyes \ for the girl who also finds—and shares —
'%
You sit on the top of a Ferris wheel; the car rocks, you catch your breath, he touches your hand and you shiver as you look at the whirl- pools of light below. Then the wheel takes another turn, gently starts, stops and rocks its way down. And that dizzy romantic moment INOW odo
Sometime this summer or next summer or the summer after that, youll meet your “stranger,”’ possibly on a crowded seashore, and you'll dream of a “‘lifelong romance.” Such a thing couldn’t exist, of course, but a lifetime can be shot through with romantic moments. For romance can be more than a personal relationship, it can be a way of life. Some people have lives as dull as dishwater, and others, who go through exactly the same experiences, have lives with a champagne sparkle.
They say that genius is an infinite capacity for taking pains; we say that romance is an infinite capacity for making a fuss. So be fussy. Especially about the way you look, act and think. Especially if you’d like to inspire romantic notions in a—let’s face it— boy!
The Way You Look
e fastidious: Be fussy about the way you iron the tucks on a blouse or the ruffles of a dress; insist—by sewing up seams and making extra darts—that your clothes fit you trimly, not snugly or tightly; be firm with yourself about touching up make-up in private on/y and never immediately after you get into a restaurant or dance.
e pretty: Because you’re unafraid (you want to look “‘sweet”’) to wear pink, blue or yellow,
Sts Dae
Kor
excitement in the world of everyday.
edited by:
or to sport a colored shoe or a sissy umbrella (because everybody else does not!).
The Way You Act
© thoughtful-plus-imaginative: A Christmas card to a friend is thoughtful, but a ““Happy Fall” message decorated with hand-drawn oak leaves on the first crisp day is romantic. It’s the unexpected gift of time or thought that’s romantic. It’s thoughtful to settle for the same old movie-and-hamburger date, but it’s romantic (and just as Inexpensive) to suggest a sunrise bike hike, cooking breakfast outdoors after you’ve reached your destination; or to cook dinner for your date yourself some night, complete with candlelight and lace tablecloth.
e a little unpredictable: Enjoy getting caught in the rain (hell be expecting you to worry about your hair); know something about cars, politics, economics and sports (you’re not sup- posed to); compliment him occasionally on his appearance; don’t try to crowd all your short life’s history into your first hour with an ex- citing new date—save a little, so that later on he can say, ““Why, I never knew you did,” or “I never would have thought that you ——”
e feminine: Harsh or vulgar language, a stri- dent voice or a boylike gait scares off romance: treasure your high moral standards, but don’t preach *°em—express your interest and affec- tion for boys in small ways: a touch of the hand, a sudden smile, the repetition of a re- mark of his you’d obviously tucked away for remembering.
e gracious: Too many girls discourage the romantic impulses of boys by laughter or ridicule. If a boy compliments you on your appearance, just for instance, thank him; never say, ““Bet you tell that to all the girls,” or “Are you blind or something?” or, worse,
y ~<
Wok
press him for further details! You can show your admiration and respect for a boy’s abilities by treating him as an individual and not just another boy. If he knows something or can do something that will be of genuine help or interest to you, ask it of him—he’ll be delighted.
The Way You Think
e@ about yourself; That you are the only per- son in the world exactly like yourself, so therefore both precious and exciting; that as a woman you have inherited all the grace, mystery and loveliness of every woman who has ever lived (study the lives of charming women); that you have the capacity to add to yourself constantly: a new language, a new recipe, a new poem, a new idea.
e about others: That everyone you meet is the hero or the heroine of an absorbing story. Ask the next person you meet 1—where he was born; 2—what his first memory is; and 3— what his favorite book is and why. You'll be intrigued with his answers—and with him!
e@ about the moment: That now is what mat- ters. Enjoy the smell of fresh bread from a bakery, the symmetrical display of fruit in a store window, the splashings of a sparrow ina mud puddle. Marvel at the changing of your body as you become more woman and less child.
e about life: That it is capable of offering you beauty and adventure as well as pain and dis- appointment. Give it all you have and demand the same in return. If you do, you won’t miss one thrill of romance and you’il be ready for love when at last it comes to you. And it will.
+
ay
1954 19
Now! This new Richaro Huonut Home Permanent ives you a choice of 3 waving and drying methods...
and Beauty Rinse Neutralizer guarantees
best results whichever method you use!
if
‘ ’
ce in 1. RICHARD HUDNUT PINCURL METHOD... 2. RICKARD HUDNUT SALON METHOD... for casual curls: this pincurl permanent really takes, because the for firmest curls: this is the professional way to get deep, lasting, soft waves and casually curling ends are locked in with Beauty natural-looking waves and nice, bouncy end-curls. And because Rinse Neutralizer. So smooth! A perfect joy to comb and manage! of Beauty Rinse Neutralizer, there’s never any “first day frizz”!
3. RICHARD HUDNUT ON-CURLER METHOD... USE THE WAVING AND DRYING METHOD YOU WANT, for step saving: this is the most satisfactory on-curler method get the results you want: because the Beauty Rinse Neutralizer in there is, because Beauty Rinse Neutralizer safeguards your hair. this new Richard Hudnut Home Permanent gives hair the strength
It works instantly to give you good, firm, springy curls that stay! it needs to really hold a good, natural-looking curl. $1.50, plus tax.
LADIES' HOME JOURNAL
-
Today's active people want gut ketesh ment
Me™ it’s the popularity of the beaches that’s helped
to make the world so figure-conscious.
Or maybe it’s today’s finer figures, and the pride their owners take in them, that have made the beaches popular.
Either way, the reason Pepsi-Cola is in greater favor than ever today, at beaches and everywhere else, is the fact that Pepsi has adapted itself to the modern desire to stay trim and fit.
Today’s active people prefer lighter foods, lighter beverages. And today’s Pepsi-Cola, never heavy, never too sweet, is reduced in calories for today’s . sensible taste in diet.
It is the modern, the light refreshment. You'll find Pepsi-Cola everywhere, in the familiar economy bottle that serves two people, or in the smaller, single-drink size, just right for one.
Have a Pepsi. It refreshes without filling.
sic Cal
refreshes
without fillin é
‘
NS
MUNKACSI
Editors’ Note: There are many questions which women would like
to ask a trusted physician, but there is not always the opportunity. In a continuation of this series, Tell Me Doctor, Doctor Safford will an- swer some of these questions which have been sent to him by readers,
The questions are all real but the names are fictitious.
<a —
By HENRY B.SAFFORD, M.D.
ave periods of premenstrual de- ion, with crying jags.””
OMETIMES wonder if I am not going the tall, dark-haired girl wept. There >ircles under her eyes, suggesting sleep- ights. She had wrung her hands futilely her history was being taken. “You think me an awful idiot.” n the contrary, | think you are tolerat- ry well the condition which is affecting -much better than a number of other nn Whom I could name.” that true? I supposed I was just a sort ak.” ot at all. Suppose you go into more de- bout your symptoms.” fell, about ten days before I am due to truate, I begin to feel an almost intoler- sense of foreboding. I know I should brains enough to realize that nothing is going to happen, but I can’t seem to ll, or lie still, or relax. I am as irritable year with a sore paw and snap at every- I don’t sleep nights. I have vertigo and iches frequently. Please don’t laugh I tell you that sometimes I feel as th I were literally going to, jump right f my skin.” can see no cause for mirth in anything aave told me. What you are suffering is, in all probability, a severe case of enstrual tension. Let me ask you this: ou experience relief once the menstrual has been established?” es, almost immediately—or within a few hours.” nd the relief is complete?” is wonderful! Of course I do have a sen- n of heaviness, low down in the abdo- for a while. I feel sort of bloated in that ns”? hat is to be expected, and there is a good n for it. How about your breasts at such ne hey are heavy—and tender, always. An- thing I’ve noticed is that at this time I 1ore. Is it because I’m so nervous?” hat is undoubtedly a factor.” ut in spite of eating more I don’t seem t any fatter.” re you sure of that?” think so. I have been at my present ht for at least three years. A hundred and ty-three pounds. You wouldn’t call that yr a girl five feet eight, would you?”
rr Safford’s new book, The Intimate Problems of =n, containing several chapters which have not red in the Journal, has been published by Haw- Books, Inc.. 70 Fifth Ave.. New York 11, N.Y.
“No. You told me you were due to men- struate within a couple of days. Suppose we check that weight. Will you step on these scales? There! What do you think of that?”
““Why—the scales read a hundred and twenty-nine pounds. Are you sure they are correct ?”’
“You saw me balance them before you stepped on.”
“Then I am fatter?”
“You are heavier. Yes, indeed, you had tobe:
“Do you suppose I gain this much every month, and then lose it?”
“IT do. You have been taking on more fluid than usual and retaining it in your tissues. Why do you think your lower abdomen feels bloated? And your breasts heavier and larger? And your weight greater than you imagined? It is that you have been ingesting more fluid, and not eliminating it. This is due to extensive changes which have taken place in the physiology of your body. The cause seems to be an imbalance of the ovarian hor- mones, activated by the approach of the menstrual period. Estrogens have a salt-re- taining effect.
“We are getting into the realm of physio- logical chemistry now; let me see if I can simplify the explanation.
“You probably have been told or have read of the advisability of taking a certain amount of salt in hot weather when perspira- lion is easy and large amounts of fluids are craved. The reason is this: Salt makes the fluids remain in the tissues. “Take a salt tablet now and then,’ you may have been counseled. “You won't have to drink so much water.’ Have you been told that?”
“Oh, yes. Frequently.”
“See how it applies to your present condi- tion. With increasing ovarian activity, there is an increasing production of estrogen, one of the ovarian hormones. Estrogens have a salt-retaining effect. So your salt intake is encouraged to remain, with a consequent water accumulation. No wonder you are heavier, since your tissues are bloated. You are particularly conscious of this in the region of the lower abdomen and breasts, and it makes you miserable.”
“That seems to be a clear explanation, Doctor.”
“This subject of premenstrual tension is serious for many women. There is more than bodily suffering to be considered. There is the effect on the social adjustment of these individuals.”
CONTINUED ON PAGE 107
21
“Watch your skin thrive on Cashmere Bouquet Soap!”
(Mrs. Harry Conover)
Conover School Beauty Director
“I’ve seen this soap help girls from 11 different countries—with every type of skin—dry, normal and oily.”
“It’s such wholesome beauty care!”’ says chic Paris stylist, Georgette. “‘No wonder American complexions are so pretty!
$99
“Cake make-up helps oily skin keep that glowing, Cashmere Bouquet look all day. Cream-base foundations lend the same perfection to dry skin.”
(Mm
“French women are wise 1n the ways of beauty,”’ says glam- orous Georgette, “‘but I must ‘ E say I’ve learned a lot about complexion care since I started using Cashmere Bouquet.
““My skin tends to be oily, so Candy taught me the special Conover beauty-wash method. Twice a day, I cream Cashmere Bouquet’s rich, mild lather over my face with my finger- tips. It leaves a fresh glow, a softer, smoother feel. And I
love the flowery fragrance!”’
Complexion and big bath sizes
LADIES’ HOME JOU
By LITTLE LULU
Did you ever?
Ever fumble for a tissue in the middle of the night- When you want one in a hurry without turning on the light?
Next time, don’t let an ordinary brand or box defeat you!
Keep Kleenex“ tissues near your bed they pop right up to meet you!
uy Kleenex
For extra softness—extra strength
*T.M. REG. U.S. PAT. OFF. © INTERNATIONAL CELLUCOTTON PRODUCTS Cf
PUBLIC AFFAIRS DEPARTMENT 23
Edited by MARGARET HICKEY
wilding international [riendships
New Diplomacy
By MARGARET HICKEY
Iris no longer true, if it ever was, that “you have to be either rich and old or young and wicked to travel abroad.’’ College and high-school students in the United States have many opportunities to visit other countries cheaply. One twenty-year-old student traveler who cycled through Europe re- cently reported he had to sell his bicycle in Paris. “Expenses zoomed to nearly two dollars a day,” he explained.
It is still not so easy for foreign youngsters to visit and travel in the United States. The American dollar may seem small to us, but it is as large as the moon, and almost as hard to get, in most other countries. But variously subsidized scholarships are permitting many foreign students to live and study in the United States. Besides knowledge and skills, they take back home a true picture of life in the United States that false propaganda will never be able to distort.
Last year, under American Field Service Inter- national Scholarships, 265 overseas students stud- ied in American high schools and 254 American youngsters lived with European families during the summer. This is a program of community co- operation in which individual families welcome stu- dents into their homes. The Young Adult Council of the National Social Welfare Assembly has an- other plan for getting the youth of various nations acquainted. In August, fifty well-informed young Americans will be in Singapore when the World Assembly of Youth meets to discuss problems fac- ing young people in every part of the world.
Girl Scouts are going abroad too. A troop from Manchester, Connecticut, pooled its earnings from a year’s potato-picking and baby-sitting to pay a visit to pen pais in Belgium. In Indianapolis, a troop sold doughnuts to help pay its expenses to France. Twenty-two other Girl Scouts are going to six Euro- pean countries with assistance from the Juliette Low World Friendship Fund. As a part of the two-way exchange, American Scouts will soon welcome thirty-six Senior Guides from six foreign countries and six two-girl teams from South Africa, the French Antilles, Belgium, Panama, Switzerland and the Netherlands.
These and many other arrangements are bringing the youth of all nations together. The Institute of International Education estimates that each year 70,000 persons are on educational-training missions between the United States and other countries. Getting to know people from other countries at the family dinner table, in the classroom, workshop and field is the world’s best diplomacy. Good neighbor- liness succeeds where high-level conferences may fail.
An old American custom—toasting marshmallows at the fireplace—brings smiles to the faces of international students at the University of Arkansas. At the home of a law professor,
they enjoy relaxing from their books and trading reminiscences about traditions and get-togethers in their homelands.
.. Arkansas Student Exchange
“Turee wives are better than two,” the young man from Thailand told
his English instructor. In her extracurricular job as president of the University of Arkansas Foundation for International Exchange of Stu- dents, Mrs. Jessie O’Kelly hears many rather fantastic things.
During one class session, Marnop Debhavalaya, also from Thailand, remarked that he had once been a monk.
The French boy, Norbert Felter, was incredulous. “‘Non !” he gasped. *“You—not a really monk?”
Tan-hued Marnop is about five feet tall, a bit roly-poly, poised with great dignity on tiny, square-toed feet. A grave young man. His smile, though, is pure sunshine. “In my country,” he said, “where my faith is customary to give one year in a Buddhist monastery. Is what-you-call sacrifice?”
“This is before you are married?’’ Norbert inquired.
“Oh, no. Iam married then.”
“Well,” said Norbert, “you don’t give up a wife to be a monk. What do you give up?”
“We don’t eat tiger meat.”
By then the class was in a hubbub in a variety of accents. Praderm Titatarn once caused similar confusion merely by saying, “I have tin elephants.”” (“You have ten elephants!’’ ““No—really I have eleven elephants.”’ ““Oh—I thought you said fen.” “‘That’s right. They are tin elephants.” “Then they are not real, they are fin?” *“No! They are real tin elephants. They work in our tin mine.” ““They go down into the mine and mine tin?” “Oh, no. Tin elephants haul the tin.’ ‘All ten at once?” Slowly, ‘““My family has e/even real elephants that /aul tin. One at a time.” ““Oh.’’)
As Som Smerasuta explained to Mrs. O'Kelly, it is an old saying in his country that three wives are better than two. But it is a very sensible saying. In Thailand, where a man can have as many wives as he can afford, only the first and her children inherit the family fortune if he dies. Therefore, a second wife might be
99 66
CONTINUED ON PAGE 78
BERN KEATING
; . i : a
x * : tae QR, XK ones tn at byt ae
C8 pr Plt = “ge Tube 75¢ plus tax « Jer $1.00 plus tax
JOHN H Bi RE C K NG
N E W Yy ORK C oH
bo
LADIES’ HOME JOU
“Beautiful aa
BRECK CREAM TREATMENT WITH -LIPIGUL> =a ee AND EASY WAY TO MAKE HAIR SOFT AND BEAUTIFD
Breck Cream Treatment offers a new and easy way to make dry or damaged ha soft and manageable. Breck Cream Treatment also aids in removing dandruf
In addition to lanolin, Breck Cream Treatment contains Lipicil*, an ingredient which aic in the treatment and prevention of hair dryness, dandruff and hard to manage hai
Breck Cream Treatment is easy to use. After your shampoo, massage onto the hair and scal}
: T . . . . d
Rinse and set. When dry, your hair will be soft, lustrous and as beautiful as a bride *Lipicil is the Breck Registered Trade Mark for a stabilized lipide complex.
Breck Cream Treatment is available at Beauty Shops, Drug Stores, Department Stores and wherever cosmetics are sol
MASS A CH US E Tay Wk iC) VAS IN, FAy 7B
Uy F) AWCer UU" Rot -NeG COUN ES (Mat Sib Oo . Ss A N BR; Ac ON
Ss SP OR-EN GF TE EeD 3 CALI <SS1Ca 10, . Oo T T A
ns
eeeeeeseeenmeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeepeeneeeeeeeeseeeeeeeeesweeeeeeeeeeememUcmCUCUCO CHC TB e eee eee es
, ; ;
‘ }
Fifty Years Ago in the Journal
N July, 1904, everyone was
talking about the solid-gold dog at the St. Louis Exposition. The famous Victor trade-mark was cast by Tiffany’s to advertise the new talking machines. Thirty thousand homesteaders hustled out to South Dakota for a stake in the last large Government grant to settlers, some 400,000 acres. Rebecea of Sunnybrook Farm headed the best-seller list, and the immortal Merry Widow Waltz was written.
And writes Editor Edward Bok in the July, 1904, JOURNAL, “This magazine is repeatedly asked why it does not devote more attention to the servant- girl problem. Since 82 per cent of American families keep no servant at all, we feel that al- though it is a throbbing prob- lem, it is not a matter of na- tional interest.”’
“Good Health for Girls: A re- freshing summer drink is oatmeal water. This may be made into a thin gruel.”
Advises Margaret Sangster: “‘If you are going to the St. Louis Exposition, dear girl, be sure and count your pennies first, as prices thereare high. Board will be at least a dollar a day and this may not include all your meals.’
“Hilda: A very faint perfume, a mere suggestion, is admissible in a lady’s toilette but a decided scent such as rose or violet is
35 vulgar.
Remarks the JOURNAL’s Nee- dlework Editor, ‘‘The new Ma- deira embroidery is so new that it is a fad this season, and next year will be a craze, yet I argue for it a long life.”’
“In order that children may learn politeness, they must be treated with courtesy,” reminds the Lady
from Philadelphia.
© 6 © © 6 6 0 6 © @ 6 6 © 0 6 6 © 0) © © 6) © 0) © 6 © @: 0) 0) ©) (0':e\ (| (© ee) (6) (0 (0 © (0) (ee (e)'e) (ee) ©) (0 © eC) 10) (6) 6 0) e) 0) (0) (0) @'.0) (0 08) Oe) (0) 6 (0) 10
You could buy a camera for $5 in July. 1904, according to a JOUR- NAL ad. Family albums bulged with such happy vacation shots as this mammoth teeter-totter.
) | Journal
JOE DI PIETRO
Gertrude Lawrence (portrait by Ben Ali Haggin) eye on her husband, Richard Aldrich, as he and Hugh Kahler go over the manuscript for Gertrude Lawrence as Mrs. A, which begins on Page 26.
HE portrait of Gertrude Lawrence, painted by Ben Ali Haggin in 1931 when the actress and Noel Coward were playing together in Private Lives, dominates the scene here as Hugh Kahler and Richard Aldrich, in the latter’s apartment, make final changes in the manuscript of Ger- trude Lawrence as Mrs A, starting in this issue. Her personality, Hugh said, still dominates the whole apartment. Every one of a hundred ornaments was a very personal possession—gifts from practically every great name in the theater of today. Hugh especially admired a tiny golden sewing box, with miniature gold thimble, scissors and all. Dick told him it was something Ger- trude had looked at longingly in a shop for but considered too great an extrav- agance to buy for herself, though nothing was ever too extravagant for her to give. “‘So this became my gift to Ger- trude,”’? Dick explained to Hugh. “It was the kind she liked best to get.”’
weeks,
When Henrietta Murdock was describ- ing a club here called Obesity Limited, whose members weigh in once a week and pay $1 for every pound they fail to lose of their weekly quota, Dottie Rob- inson, the beauty assistant, told of the Lean Jean Club in Byron, Michigan, one of whose members wrote in about their penalty for breaking the club’s reducing rules. It’s to wear a badge that says, “I’ve been a little pig.”
ae
i
seems to keep a watchful
The Botanical Garden uptown here is working on a new variety of sneeze- free goldenrod.
Ever since we told here in February about Smokey, the now-famous fire-prevention bear whose fur was singed in what we said was a blazing Arizona forest, our mail about this matter has been very heavy, and all of it from New Mexico. That's where the fire really was. Our mistake.
A breakdown of 1953 automobile acci- dents shous that cars traveling straight ahead killed 30,760: cars turning right, 960: turning left, 2200; backing, 380; slowing or stopping, 460; skidding, Deo ue a Studies show that ‘‘golden brown” is the common hair color in the United States, including about 30 per cent of the men and 27 per cent of the women; about 14 per cent of the men are ‘golden blond,” but less than 11 per cent of women. Red hair is twice as common in women as in men.
The skirt that littlke ddrian Vaughan is clutching on this month’s cover is her mother’s. And if you recall the beaming baby who looked up at you from the March, 1953, cover, that was Adrian’s lit- tle sister Valerie. And according to Tana Hoban, who took both pictures, by the time you read this there may be still an- other cover girl in the Vaughan family. Women buy more cosmetics today than they did ten years ago—but try to achieve a ‘natural’ look: rouge has declined in usage almost 30 per cent. ...: Since 1940, hospital in- surance in Americen families has in-
nmouore
Gossip about people you know, Editors you like, and what goes on
in New York
creased from 9 per cent to 57 per cent; surgical insurance, from 4 per cent to 48 per cent. However, about one sixth of our population owes medical bills averaging $127.50.
Tipped off to look up a certain page in the West Point yearbook for 1915, we found ourself reading about a cadet named Ei- senhower. He was down as “Daredevil Dwight, the Dauntless Don,’ and de- scribed as one of the handsomest cadets at the Point. . . . Did you know, by the way, that on Mamie’s charm bracelet there is a heart marked “Ike” ?
Studies show that the housewife who belongs to many clubs, organizations and committees is likely to be restless and dissatisfied; the woman who likes housework, children, and belongs to only one or two clubs is usually a hap- pier wife.
In Baarn, Holland, last winter, Betty Hoffman met a woman whose story she can’t forget. Now the wife of an Amer- ican Red Cross official in Germany, she was an Army nurse in the Philippines when the Japanese invaded. Before tak- ing to the hills with the guerrilla forces, she only had time to grab a little cloth- ing, some medical supplies, and six issues of the Lapres’ HOME JOURNAL. For the next two years her group read those six JOURNALS to tatters. What they minded more than the Japs, she told Betty, was having to wait until their liberation to read the ending of Daphne du Maurier’s Frenchman’s Creek.
When Joannie Norman was _ here from California recently, visiting her sister-in-law, our beauty editor, Dawn asked her why she was always darting into antique shops. ‘‘I’m trying to find needles for my sewing machine,”’ was why. Seems Joannie uses a pre- 1900 Wheelock & Wilson, and has since sent us this picture to prove it. The formal she’s making is from Nora O’ Leary’s pattern pages. So is the dress she’s wearing. The Lady Paulette Powder Puff.
poodle is
Joannie Norman and her turn- of-the-century sewing machine.
JOHN ENGSTEAD
25
EAN
a 2s SOONER ENE
REEL
SRO Seen
seis
<eeh-atetinegaN RRRAN
wae — = sama ag Sea SR CC eR NR nee i RUHR ARB ee ee
x pen comin gine oi amnesia aaamaeee
GERTRUDE LAWRENCE -
AS
aT
An intimate biography of the great star by her husband,
RICHARD STODDARD ALDRICH
O her friends, she was ‘“‘Gertrude”’ or ae. When she was on tour and her play .was doing big business, she might dash off a brief, jubilant note signed “‘Mrs. Gotrocks.” I would always be primed to find her in what she felt was a subtle, liter- ary mood by the signature “Emily Bronté.”’ If she was feeling lonely and acutely con- scious of the enormous distance and the dangers dividing us, as when she toured the Pacific bases for USO and I was on duty in England, she became ‘‘Your
“Pm not Gertrude Lawrence. I'm Mrs.
DOROTHY WILDING
“Poor Richard Aldrich! He thinks he has married Miss Lawrence. He’ll soon find out she isn’t ‘Miss’ but ‘Myth’ Lawrence.”
This sally of Constance Collier’s was re- peated to me. I thought it amusing and apt. After all, a good many myths had grown up around Gertrude during the sea- sons she had been enchanting audiences in England and America. She was of the stuff of which legends are made. You were al- ways hearing about the outrageous pranks she played in the theater and out of it, her
Bunkie.” But at all other times in letters Richard Stoddard Aldrich—and Ladore it!” quick wit, her love of parties at which her
and wires, from the first penciled note she left on the pile of handkerchiefs in my bureau drawer the day after we were married, to me she was “‘Adoringly Mrs. A.”
The name was her own invention. She never used it in writing to anyone but to me, and she never referred to herself as ‘““Mrs. A”’ except when we were alone. It had a significance for us both which made it peculiarly and preciously our own. Millions will remember Gertrude Lawrence lovingly always. But Mrs. A is a woman who was known slightly to not more than a dozen persons. And fully, intimately to only one—myself.
Copyright, 1954, by Richard Stoddard Aldrich
valiant Anna in The King and I — her last and perhaps
atest role — she “‘whistled a happy tune” all of her life.
vi ML
irrepressible comedy spirit made her the glittering center, her extravagances which had run her into bank- ruptcy, the men in love with her, her fabulous clothes, furs and jewels; above all, her glamour—a word which she had brought back into parlance, and the only term our language affords which even haltingly describes her radiant charm. ‘‘Myth Lawrence,”’ I called her teasingly when we were taking a late arm-in-arm stroll across the lawn toward the dunes, some- thing she always liked to do the last thing at night. I was unprepared for the seriousness with which she took the witticism. She drew closer and her hands—strong, capable and as
Knowing her husband’s love for the place where he had. spent boyhood summers, Miss Lawrence made ‘‘Northfield”’ a magic word, “to quench domestic flash fires.” Spoken by either during a quarrel, it bound both to two minutes of silence.
COGN.
She was not to be comprehended all at once.”
eloquently mobile as her face—tightened on my arm. : “Darling,” she said, “those things get laughs, but only by people who can’t get love. We have each other. But oh, do let’s be careful!”’
Here, as I was to discover, was the keynote of all her thinking and feeling about our marriage: ‘‘We have each other; but do let’s be careful.” All that this portended I was not to understand until we had been married some time; until I had found my way through the enveloping myths, the inconsistencies and contradictions of her nature—of all that gave her her prismatic radiance—to the truth of Gertrude Lawrence. I might never have found this, as many men never reach a clear understanding of the women they love and marry, if the war, my four years’ service in the Navy and Gertrude’s career had not separated us frequently, sometimes for long periods. We both chafed at these absences, although neither of us ever questioned their necessity. One of the conditions that I insisted on before our marriage was that our careers were to be entirely separate. Though we came to each other for advice and drew generously on each oth- er’s professional experience, it was always as husband and wife. I never wished to become Gertrude’s producer, and she was never my star. In the theater, therefore, we went our separate ways.
As the years went on I believe we both came to see that the separations, presenting innumerable problems, chal- lenges and readjustments, gave us an insight into each other which uninterrupted companionship might have inhibited. There was scarcely a day when we were apart that we did not exchange letters or wires. Naturally shy in expressing her deepest feelings in words except through the medium of paper and ink, Gertrude was one of the rare human beings who write without self-consciousness tugging at the pen. She had a freedom of expression, as well as a freedom of affection, which I never attained. I envied her these from the bottom of my heart.
Her letters were often not more than a few lines pen- ciled in her strong square script on whatever Paper came easiest to her hand in hotel suites, theater dressing rooms, on ships, trains and planes. If she couldn’t write, she sent
Ouija board evidently escaped ban on frivolities such as theater. Grandmother Joy, Aunt Alice, Uncle Jim, Mother.
aoe ae i 5 aa e Se = 3
Mother believed in family tradition, Con- gregational Church, gilt-edged bonds.
a telegram. These messages, however sent, are the inti- mate spontaneous expression of whatever she was think- ing or feeling at the moment. Reading them is like feeling her hand steal into mine.
She had the quality which above all others endears a woman to a man: with her, intimacy never frayed out into familiarity. She was not to be comprehended all at once. Instead, she grew steadily through the twelve years we had together, developing and disclosing new and unsuspected facets of her character as circumstances and the needs of other human beings close to her called them forth. The provocative spices of surprise and change were always present, seasoning our relationship, giving it savor and zest.
Not all the changes effected by our marriage were only in Gertrude. Alterations even more profound went on in me. These were the inevitable results of the exposure of my cautious, less-expansive nature, inhibited by an un- diluted Puritan New England ancestry and by childhood associations and training, to the warm, vital forces that flowed so richly through her. Gertrude was the most outgiving person I have ever known. In her the need for affection, urgent as this was, never amounted to the need she felt for bestowing affection on human beings, on animals, on birds and plants.
Scarcely less marked than her influence on me were the changes she brought about in other members of my fam- ily circle. None of us—Aldriches, Joys, Hobarts—are what we were, or what we would have been if she had not With Noel Coward in been a vital element in our lives. This is especially true of Private Lives, at the
CULVER SERVICE
Understudy to Bea Lillie in a Charlot revue, her big chance came when Miss Lillie fell off a horse and broke collarbone.
my mother. Times Square Theater, Mother was in her eightieth year when I telephoned N.Y. ‘‘This is Gertrude her on the morning of CONTINUED ON PAGE 96 the way I first saw her.”
“Born there? He ts Plymouth Rock!”
CECIL BEATON © CONDE NAST
In Skylark, at the Cape Playhouse, she awed producer—her future husband.
“Scotch terrier, Mackie, worshiped her, tolerated her friends, and was her inseparable companion.”
VAN DAMM
When Gertrude acquired the rights to The King and I, her mother-in-law gave her a first edition of the real Anna Leonowens’ memoirs, which she had owned 60 years.
At their cottage on Cape Cod, Miss Lawrence gardened, painted, sawed; was‘‘notabove stopping the drainssoshe could display her talents as a plumber.”
** dren’t we lucky to be so intelligent
about marriage?”’ asked Jane. + se 7
Fitz could have hit her.
gittag Mh es
this ring
N their wedding night, Jane helped Fitz move his
two suits and seven shirts and several hundred
books from his single room in the Village to her apart- ment in the Village.
They had been married during lunch hour in City Hall—a legal minimum of formalities, without flowers or music, and with completely indifferent witnesses borrowed from an office across the hall.
Jane had liked it. Jane had said, “It wasn’t the least bit stuffy or provincial!”
Fitz agreed, though he did not teli her that until this very moment, as they sat cross-legged on the floor, looking up at the bookshelves, he had not felt very much married.
“Look,” he said, “téte-a-téte!”” pointing at their two yellow-bound volumes of T. S. Eliot, one of which had just made the symbolical taxicab trip through the 44- lage and now nestled against its mate.
Jane smiled at him indulgently.
After all, it was their wedding night.
Fitz was a blunt-faced young man of twenty-two. Jane was almost as tall as he, blond, with her hair pulled back straight in a horse’s tail that bounced nervously. She wore very dark lipstick and no other make-up, flat shoes, and tweeds that had a tendency to fly out when she walked and disguise what Fitz con- sidered to be, when he wasn’t too preoccupied to think about such things, a quite marvelous body.
They both wore blackish horn-rimmed glasses, and they had met during a debate tournament while they were seniors in neighboring New England colleges. They had both come to New York, though not because of each other, but quite apart, each to seek the unfold- ing of his own personality and enough money to pay the rent.
They had met again at a friend’s cocktail party, and had both immediately apologized for their presence in such a prosaic situation.
They had left the party early, together. From there, affairs had advanced until Fitz found himself suggesting the even more prosaic situation of marriage.
“But marriage is so... . insidious!’’ Jane said.
“What?” Fitz blinked.
“Well, take a love affair,’ Jane said thoughtfully. (Though they’d never even discussed an affair. After all, their New England upbringing!) “‘A love affair keeps you on your toes, more or less. Any time one party starts getting dull and CONTINUED ON PAGE 70
GGY BILBY DRAKE
3]
THE JOURNAL'S COMPLETE-IN-ONE-ISSUE CONDENSED NOVEL
“Til tell y what will happe if you try it—
if you dare.”
T was five o’clock on a Thursday after-
noon in May in New York. Mary Blake, the wife of James L. Blake, prom- inent young advertising executive, lay on the bed in her attractive apartment. She was not asleep. But she lay quietly, her eyes focused on the ceiling, thinking. Outside the bedroom door, in the kitchen across the hall, she could hear the colored maid fussing about cleaning a cupboard. Suddenly she raised herself to her elbow and called out:
“Leila!”
The fussing ceased as the girl stopped her work and came to her mistress. “Yes, Mrs. Blake?”
“Since Mr. Blake is in Washington, I’ve decided to dine out tonight, and I’ve made a dinner engagement. You may go home as soon as you’re through.” “Yes, Mrs. Blake,” the maid replied.
“Oh—hand me my pocketbook, Leila.” The maid brought her a large patent-leather bag which had been cas- ually tossed on a chaise longue in a cor- ner of the room. Mary extracted three ten-dollar bills from her purse and handed them to her. “‘Here you are.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Blake.”
“I’m going to try and sleep now, Leila, so good-by. I'll see you on Monday.”
“Yes, ma’am.,”
The maid closed the door quietly. Half an hour later she left the apartment.
At ten minutes to seven Mary Blake came down in the elevator. She was dressed in an attractive light-blue suit with a matching hat. Around her neck was a small sable scarf.
As she walked through the lobby, the doorman respectfully tipped his hat. ‘**May I get you a taxi, Mrs. Blake?”
“No, thank you, Joe,’ Mary said. “Tm not going far. It’s such a pleasant evening, I think I'll walk.”
Joe stepped out to the sidewalk as he held the door open for her. He watched her stroll to the corner and turn down the side street. That doorman was the last person known to have seen Mary Blake alive, for when she turned that corner, to all intents and purposes, she walked off the face of the earth.
On Sunday night about eight, James Blake called his wife from Washington. The telephone did not answer. She’s probably out to dinner or gone to a movie, he thought. He spent a busy evening with the client he had come to the capital to see. When he returned to his hotel room, it was one in the morning. He picked up CONTINUED ON PAGE 82
33
“I do well, my lord. Is she not lovely?” John smiled assent—
the infant looked like all others to him.
om
Convent bred, and thus never having. looked in a mirror, Katherine de Roet was unaware of her startling beauty when
she was ‘brought to the English court where Wr sister Philippa was maid in waiting
ye oe to the queen. Philippa was betrothed to an the court scrivener, Geoffrey Chaucer. ; Katherine, too, was of marriageable =i A . 7 - , She LWLS ted fro m him widl y. age—fifteen—but without a dowry there : i : was small chance that she would marry well.
‘ f When Sir Hugh Swynford, boorish knight
yf in the retinue of John of Gaunt, ee i * tA ve. / love VOU. ? Duke of Lancaster, asked her hand,
generously overlooking her lack of dowry,
ff
*
” she felt that she had no choice; although fp : : she could not love Hugh, she determined sh GaGa ed bitterl Vv. to make him a good wife. Dressed for
her wedding by her friend, Hawise, daughter of the fishmonger, Katherine kK . 3 as was radiant. The duke and his
th ough ff knew tt not till Now. gracious lady, Blanche, came to the wedding, and the duke kissed the bride in accordance with custom. But strangely, the kiss stayed in his mind. He could not forget the girl; there was the mark of destiny upon her.
“Pll not force you, Katherine —
you shall come to me of yourself.”
II ATHERINE’S wedding night was spent at a
-X\ pilgrim inn near Waltham Abbey. Hugh
had meant to go farther, but he listened to Kath-
By ANYA SETON erine’s timid plea that she might stop and see the . famous Shrine of the Black Cross.
Hugh was not in the least devout; he had never
bothered to visit any shrine before. As he and
Katherine mounted the pilgrim steps, while he
looked up at the black cross, a strange thing hap-
pened. Somehow the buckle which fastened his
scabbard to the belt had loosened, and as he bent
his knee his sword fell with a clatter, then rolled
ILLUSTRATED BY PRUETT CARTER
down the steps to the chancel floor. Other pilgri shrank back, murmuring and exclaiming. It wai sign, they said, that the Holy Cross was angry w the knight. Then a fat monk hurried up from behi the shrine, and said that indeed it was a sign, almy a miracle. He deemed that the Holy Cross wish the sword offered to it as a gift. |
Hugh stood silent amid the commotion. T sword was of finest Damascus steel, the hilt ¢ crusted with small rough emeralds. This sword h been his father’s and had saved Hugh’s own life many a skirmish. He looked down at it and sho! his head, muttering, “I will not give up the sworc
- monk peered into Hugh’s shut face and said that there might be another way to avert . The shrine had need of embellishment. It be that for the price of the sword the Blessed would be appeased. zh looked from the monk to the heavy black towering dark and sinister above him. He hat Katherine had drawn aside and stood ing, her cheeks gleaming white in the darkness “hood. opened his purse and put into the monk’s etched hand four marks. The monk murmured liction and walked quickly behind the shrine.
Hugh descended the steps, picked up his sword from the floor and strode from the church while Katherine walked after him.
They went to a mean and shabby inn, the Pelican, because Hugh had given up nearly all the money that he had. The stuffy little loft room was no fitting bridal bower. The straw was moldy on the square box bed and hidden but in part by stained old quilts. In the dusty corners black beetles scampered.
Hugh looked sideways at Katherine, then shouted for Ellis to bring up a flagon of ale, and of this he drank cup after cup. He offered some to Kath- erine, but she merely wet her lips, and gave him
back the cup. She had become very still, and stood by the tiny window, gazing out into the twilight toward the abbey.
She turned her head a moment when Hugh banged down the oaken strip that bolted the door. She saw that his face had grown dark red, and heard the sound of his breathing. She shrank nearer to the window, and her hand clenched on the sill.
He came up behind her. “Katherine!” he cried. ‘Katherine ——”’ The pain of his grip on her shoulders almost made her scream, nd yet she knew that his fury was not directed a: her, and through
her fear pity flickered and was gone CONTINUED OF A (
36
Like a castle in the style of a farmhouse.
By RICHARD PRA
Architectural Editor of the Journal
ce early ironmasters of Southeastern Pennsyl- vania took the ore from the earth, and in their fur- naces and forges turned it into usable iron—inciden- tally, of course, into the gold of great fortunes. The father of John Potts was among the foremost of these ironmasters, a Philadelphia Friend; and when John became head of the family on his father’s death, and head of the family iron business, too, he was forty years old, married to a daughter of another famous ironmaster, and father of seven children (ultimately thirteen). That was in 1750. He decided forthwith to build himself a suitable house, near what is now Pottstown, and this is it. Its simplicity befits a Quaker background, and gives nobility to its bigness and beauty. You are welcome to wander through it, and to do so is a delight. Among the great country houses of the large early landowners thereabouts, this is prob- ably the greatest. They were truly manorial houses, often far apart because of their great extent. Fifteen miles away toward Philadelphia, John Potts’ fourth son, Isaac, an ironmaster, too, lived in one which became forever famous in the winter of 1777 as Washington’s Valley Forge Headquarters. Each manor had its workers’ homes, its furnaces and forges, its springhouse, gristmill, and its barns like mighty fortresses; and all with walls laid up in this warm and wonderful Pennsylvania stone. ... You can tell from the way Pottsgrove looks today how beautiful it must have been, even when it was new.
The high post bed through which you see the southeast bedroom is Philadelphia Chippendale; the highboy, Chippendale. In all the eight principal rooms, upstairs\ and down, there are corner chimney pieces.
The three-part mahogany Chippendale dining table and eight matched Chippen- dale chairs were made in Philadelphia when the house was brand-new. All wood- work in the house is the original color.
With thirteen children, there had to be a children’s dining room. Its simplicity and _ their proudly stalwart paneling. Through the doorway to the right of the painted fine generous proportions are as pure Pennsylvania as the more formal rooms with dower chest you get a glimpse of the miller’s house, a picturesque appendage.
Complacency has lowered our defenses against VD; taught youngsters to be contemptuous of syphilis and gonorrhea while these diseases spread through their E
THE DREAD COM
By MORTON SONTHEIMER
® Gonorrhea and syphilis must the cleansing light of universal | cause they maintain themselves alm or public ignorance and public
if the present Federal appro; eul, tt will result in destro case-hoiding and educational fran. This program Ss tn }'D-control problem
There is still desperate pervtiston and corretattor J
a
Ss
*
Undiscovered and untreated syphilis still menaces the hea
rpose
Eee!
IVE years ago there was reason to believe that H the venereal diseases were just about finished. Most people believed that the twin plagues of syphilis and gonorrhea had been conquered. For there was no doubt of the weapon. Penicillin could not only cure either disease, but it could cure quickly and painlessly. By 1949 the case rates were toppling, the VD wards were emptying, the death rates were dwindling.
Scientists turned to other fields. Doctors ceased looking grim and assumed their most competent smiles. Women’s clubs gave themselves a well- deserved pat on the back for having been in the forefront of the great crusade against VD that Started in the thirties. Public-health authorities said that the “next big problem’ was mental hy- giene. It seemed all over but the shouting. In recent months, however, some disturbing events have
begun to come to light. They emphasize this all-
important truth: undiscovered syphilis is tht enemy of society. It can be a killer of the inne
In Georgia, health authorities are still a over what has come to be known as the * Point Story.” The story started when a y, draftee from the Georgia town of that name referred to a local diagnostic center by the 4 because he was presumed to have syphilis. Ite with the discovery of an epidemic of 68 cas syphilis, all traced from the one person disco’ by accident. Dr. C. D. Bowdoin, of the Ge Health Department, commented:
“We have been unable to determine wh how this happened. We feel that if this ¢ happen to us in a six-week period of time small community in Georgia, it is happenit other parts of Georgia to a greater or lesser e? and could be happening anywhere in the Ui States. We hope that it will cause people to thi
EPORTED SYPHILIS IS INCREASING*
'
THESE STATES:
IN THESE CITIES: {
izona Akron
nnecticut Buffalo
trict of Columbia Cincinnati Detroit Miami
New Orleans
w Jersey New York City w York Newark Portland ode Island Providence uth Carolina Rochester . Seattle Paks Syracuse rginia Toledo
ashington est Virginia
PORTED GONORRHEA IS INCREASING*
THESE STATES: IN THESE CITIES: { abama Akron strict of Columbia Atlanta ‘orgia Boston inois Chicago wa Cleveland insas Detroit ntucky Los Angeles uisiana Louisville aryland Minneapolis assachusetts New Orleans nnesota Newark yntana Norfolk rth Carolina Oakland vada Pittsburgh w Jersey Providence w Mexico Rochester ih” San Francisco yoming St. Louis St. Paul
Bes, Syracuse
- Worcester
creased reported case rates, fiscal year 3 over 1952, compiled by Division of real Disease, U.S. Public Health Service.
ci ies of 200,000 population and
se
Mes
ROBERT FRANK
SACK
‘this nation.
octor Bowdoin was right—it was indeed hap- ng in other parts of the United States. There ulso other significant developments.
Detroit, Dr. Edward D. Spalding, a heart lalist, was shot dead as he stepped out of his e building. Fortunately, a bystander saw the who killed him walk calmly from the scene. ollowed the man and led police to him. When asked him why he killed Doctor Spalding, he ally replied, ““Doctor Spalding? H’m-m, | the wrong man. I don’t know any Doctor ding.”
ear Holbrook, Arizona, Mr. and Mrs. Ray- d Allen, a young Pennsylvania couple, camped le the road for the night in their trailer. Sud- y a powerful six-foot man burst into the er, tied up the couple. Then he raped the young , set fire to her hair, burned her body with spaper torches, and after five hours of torture
choked her to death. The husband, forced to watch, finally worked loose, got his pistol and shot the intruder.
What gave these two awful cases meaning was that it later developed that each demented killer was in the late crazing stages of syphilis. Since violence is rare among victims of syphilitic insan- ity, even the experts were impressed. If there were two such homicidal cases, it was obvious there must be a vast amount of nonviolent psychosis from syphilis.
“Ninety-four million people [six out of every ten] live in areas where venereal disease is out of control] in this country,” estimates Dr. James K. Shafer, of the Public Health Service.
Has penicillin, the great cure, failed? On the contrary, improved penicillins are more effective than ever. Then what happened? A victory was won, then thrown away. Most people concede that after two world wars demobilization each time came too fast and too fully, leaving the nation unprepared to meet recurring dangers.. The same thing happened after our triumph over the tough, implacable enemy, VD.
At the last annual meeting of the American Academy of Dermatology and Syphilology, doc- tors thought the organization might shorten its name. Then the members heard from New York University’s Dr. Charles R. Rein, and Dr. John C. Cutler, of the United States Public Health Service, that fifteen states and the District of Columbia reported more syphilis last year than the year before, that there are today approximately two million cases of syphilis in this country, undiscov- ered and untreated or inadequately treated. The Academy did not shorten its name.
The Academy heard only part of the story. The gonorrhea rate increased in eighteen states. The rate for one or the other of the two diseases, or both, was up in twenty-nine of America’s largest cities.
Doctor Rein, in his report to the dermatolo- gists, summed up: “‘Syphilis and gonorrhea have a remarkable potential for epidemic outbreaks, es- pecially when the public, physicians and health departments become too complacent.”
You could almost measure our complacency in dollars and cents. In 1948 the Federal Government was spending 17 million dollars a year to fight syphilis and gonorrhea. Results were soon spec- tacularly evident. Immediately, then, the Govern-
@ When the Federal Government drastically cuts its appropriation for venereal-disease control— as it indeed has done—some wealthy states can still carry on an adequate program against VD. But many poor states cannot. The danger to all of us, though, lies in the fact that the organisms of gonorrhea and syphilis know no state bounda- ries. A pool of venereal infection spreads in ever- widening circles, tainting first the promiscuous and, as it goes on, inevitably the innocent too. As Morton Sontheimer’s article so clearly dem- onstrates, we have become far too complacent about an adversary that is constantly ready to regain lost ground—wherever it has not already
done so. HAROLD ERICKSON, M.D. President, Association of State and Territorial Health Officers, Portland, Oregon
@ Morton Sontheimer’s article sounds a warning toan American public that has been lulled in- to a false sense of security about a great social danger. There remains in this country a vast reservoir of venereal disease. It can burst forth at many places to pollute our youth—it already has.
The fact that we now have the means of curing VD quickly and easily is not enough. We must educate potential victims to the danger, enable them to know when they have it, and bring them in for treatment.
To abandon these simple public-health mea- sures would be tragic.
[t is particularly fitting that the American public should now be alerted to the recurring menace of VD by LADIES’ HOME JOURNAL, which courageously pioneered in bringing the original danger of syphilis and gonorrhea to the attention of America nearly twenty years ago.
CONRAD VAN HYNING Executive Director,
American Social Hygiene Association, New York City
ment began slashing the VD appropriation. By 1952 it was only 10 million. Last year that was cut in half. This year’s budget allows less than two and a half million.
“Great advances have been made,” said the congressional committee reporting on the last appropriation. “‘However, the committee believes that the point has been reached where states*and communities can take care of the problem with a minimum of assistance.”
But the states and communities also cut ap- propriations for VD control!
Each slash carried away a valuable part of the control program. First, the educational efforts, to make people recognize and seek treatment for VD, were all but eliminated. Then clinics began shut- ting down. Then laboratories that ran tests to dis- cover VD were closed. Next to suffer were the case-finding services with their social detectives tracing the hidden cases and bringing them in for treatment. Discouraged or discharged for econ- omy, 478 members of VD control staffs left the service in a single year. Many of them were highly trained medical experts whose skills were much needed.
Oddly enough, the more control efforts were cut, he better conditions looked for a while. The answer—and a few unheeded experts tried to point it out at the time—was that as efforts to find and treat VD cases diminished, fewer came in for treat- ment. Naturally, then, fewer cases were reported.
How that can happen was demonstrated not long ago at Camp Lejeune, the Marines’ train- ing base in North Carolina. The camp had one of the highest VD rates among naval installa- tions in the United States. There is a public- health rule that military VD rates reflect rates in the surrounding civilian population. But Camp Lejeune seemed to contradict this. The three surrounding counties reported little or no VD.
However, when public-health authorities moved in with clinics, case-finding and rigid control measures, the VD rates of the surrounding area immediately went up. VD, of course, had been there all the while. It simply wasn’t being found. CONTINUED ON PAGE 77
39
FRANK TURGEON
RED) CARPET OR
By ALDEN HATCH
President Eisenhower broke precedent at inauguration by insisting his wife
ride beside him to White House. (Other Presidents rode with Vice-President.) Mamie’s Inaugural Ball gown was given
to Smithsonian, as was wedding dress.
/ INTERNATIONA
“Don’t you ever stand up for me, Mamie,” Ike admonished her when she, with 10,000 others, rose in homage to Columbia’s new president.
Inspecting White House with Mrs. Truman, Mamie planned some changes, furniture arrangements, thriftily decided that Margaret’s curtains would do for her.
ASSOCIATED PRESS
Bathrobe-clad Eisenhowers waved gaily from campaign train at 3 A.M. ““We had been so long away
from people who looked happy.”
MAMIE
~
“Mamie, will it be all right if I say a prayer before the inaugu-
ration?” asked Ike. . . . “It’s always good to say a prayer.”
CONCLUSION
HE President of Columbia’s house at 60
Morningside Drive was a Georgian-style palace of pink brick and white marble about twice as big as Quarters One. It had been built to the specifications of President Nicholas Murray Butler, who enjoyed life in the grand manner. The first floor consisted of a spacious entrance hall, a long, elaborate drawing room and a state dining room, with a small reception room off it which Mamie used as the family dining room. On the second floor was a suite of slightly less formal rooms, including a big library and a sit- ting hall. Third and fourth floors were bedroom suites. The kitchen was in the basement. Mamie looked the house over and decided that the kitchen would not do at all.
Columbia’s trustees were so delighted to get Eisenhower that they were ready to do anything to make Mamie happy. They had their architects draw up a plan of alterations, which they were told would cost Columbia $225,000. Slightly aghast, they consulted Ike and Mamie again. It was sheer nonsense to spend money like that, the Eisenhowers agreed. But Mamie insisted that the
kitchen be brought upstairs for the convenience of the maids. This could be done by making the Oversize dining room a few feet shorter. A kitchenette was installed on the bedroom floor where the Eisenhowers could—and did—cook their own meals when they felt like it. A sun porch was built on the flat roof, where Mamie put the Philippine porch furniture. That is where the Eisenhowers spent most of their time. Eisenhower retired as Chief of Staff in Febru- ary, 1948. Mamie thought that they might have time for a short vacation before he took up his duties at Columbia, but that was not what happened. Instead Ike took the two months’ in- terim to record his own story of his campaigns for posterity. The writing of Crusade in Europe in so short a time was almost as stupendous a literary feat as the campaign was in a military way. The house was full of secretaries; editors from Doubleday, who were to publish the book; and military aides running about checking facts. For eight hours every day Ike paced back and forth dictating steadily. At night they worked on
. revisions of the text. Mamie hardly saw her hus-
Copyright, 1954, by Alden Hatch. The complete book is soon to be published by Henry Holt & Co., Inc
PRESS
Barbara Ann and Dwight David, 2nd, with Grandmother Eisenhower, greeted grandfather on his return from Europe in 1951.
UNITED PRESS
; }
band. It was worth it, though, for Eisenhower netted over $500,000 from the sale of the book. For the first time in their lives Ike and Mamie were financially secure.
Just as the book was finished, the Eisenhowers made a flying trip to see their first grandson, Dwight David Eisenhower II, who was appro- priately born in the post hospital at West Point.
When the Chrysler turned into the driveway under the glass canopy at 60 Morningside after the long drive from Washington, John and Bar- bara were there to greet the Eisenhowers. Behind them was Mrs. C. Gage Lent, the housekeeper, and the three maids whom she had engaged to take care of the house. It was a sort of lord-of- the-manor welcome that amused both Ike and Mamie. Grandeur quickly evaporated when it was discovered that there was no food in the house. Since it was Sunday evening, the Faculty Club was closed, and nobody felt like going to a restaurant.
In this emergency Mrs. Lent offered to run around to a delicatessen for some food. So that
first evening the CONTINUED ON PAGE 110
ue eS eae ese Me St a
. eee i
G0 AERO OLE ICL LE DLE OO LEAL
THE LADIES HOME JOURNAL
DEPARYMENTS ARCHITECT VRE
RMARD PRATT
BEAUTY Baws CROLL See se CONTHIGUTING EOITOR LR PR Ae
| ICTION AMD ARTICLES
em, ao —— etek ee
When our young editors learned about Doctor Spock’s conducting a regular Journal page, they were as jubilant as all young mothers will be. So were their youthful “assist-
ants’ —each a “Spock baby” !—welcoming him here. L. to r.: Dawn Crowell Norman with her Cynthia, 2; Devon Fredericks, 4; Diana Norman, 4; Dick Bass, 7; Mary Bass ; Stephen Smith, 5; Tina Fredericks ; Wendy Smith, 2; Nora O'Leary Smith; Stacey Fredericks, 2% ; Kate Hoffman, 2; and Elizabeth McFarland Hoffman.
Spock says:—‘I think girl
babies are as wonderful as boy babies.”
By BENJAMIN SPOCK, M.D.
°VE often been asked, ““Why didn’t you say any- thing about pacifiers in your book ?”’ The answer is that I was afraid to. Twenty years ago, and even ten years ago, a pacifier (an arrangement like a rub- ber nipple without a hole, attached to a disk, which a baby can suck at without choking on) was consid- ered by many people unhygienic, germ-laden, habit- forming, tooth-deforming, disgusting. I’d heard of cases when a total stranger—of the indignant, self- righteous type—would come up to a baby carriage where a baby would be lying, sucking happily on a pacifier, snatch it out of the baby’s mouth and hiss at the mother that she didn’t deserve to be entrusted with an innocent baby’s welfare.
I didn’t want to get mothers into this kind of trouble and I didn’t want doctors to think my book so unreliable they would advise parents not to use it.
The climate has changed a lot in the past ten years. Lots of things that were generally frowned on then (irregular feeding schedules for infants, waiting for a child to “train himself” for the toilet) are now not just permissible but quite stylish.
[ had used pacifiers quite often in my pediatric practice in New York in trying to prevent thumb- sucking. I was going on the theory which Dr. David Levy proposed: that a baby in the first year of life turns to thumb-sucking because he hasn’t hadenough minutes of sucking at the bottle each day to satisfy his particular need. I believed that the sucking need was particularly strong in the first three months of life, and yet that is the period when most babies are still unable to get their thumbs in their mouths when
When young mothers
unevitably turn
they want to—they haven’t the co-ordinatioi So I figured that the first month or two of lif the time to try hard to keep the nipple holes’ enough so that each feeding took at least ty minutes, and then, if it was a baby who still se to be trying to get his thumb, too, to give hin pacifier in addition, freely, just as much ¢ wanted or was willing to take it.
The first baby I tried it on was what mig) called a desperate case. The older child had b severe thumb-sucker. The mother had been w not to interfere actively, according to my a¢ But this caused trouble with her husband an child’s four grandparents, all of whom happen hate to see thumb-sucking and kept clucking scolding the mother. The new baby began to his thumb noisily in the delivery room an¢ mother and I both realized we were facing a ¢ She just couldn’t take that amount of disapp for three or four years more.
She made it her business to pop a pacifier i mouth every time he was awake, and he loved couple of months later he was beginning to be t with it at times, and a couple of months later st spat it out for the last time. He never want again and he never sucked his thumb. Of cour: mother and I thought we’d discovered the r that would prevent all thumb-sucking.
Unfortunately, the method never worked sc again. That’s often the way in experiments. I on recommending pacifiers in cases where the ents particularly dreaded the development of thi
Spock says:—‘‘Every time you pick your baby up— every time you change him, bathe him, feed him, smile at him—he’s getting a feeling that he
belongs to you—and that you belong to him.”
POCK TALKS
TOTHERS
ut their children—and they always do—the conversation
Spock. The JOURNAL is happy to have him enter the discussion.
1g, or where the very young baby seemed to in unusually great need to suck. (A baby who ready learned to get and enjoy his thumb is ant to give it up for a pacifier—the only easy o start the pacifier is in the earliest weeks.) yugh no experiment with a pacifier was ever so sful as the first I tried, I got the impression n the average it worked better than the thumb as given up somewhat sooner.
there were complications. Several babies who yn their backs, and were allowed to sleep with acifier in their mouths, got themselves and nothers into trouble when they learned to turn mto their stomachs in their sleep. They'd lose acifier and wake and shriek for it, sometimes -dozen times throughout the night. These moth- re mad at me. I sup- he answer would be ve the pacifier any the baby wanted it he was awake but al- to take it out of his 1 aS soon as he went p.
few other mothers to resent the pacifier a child continued to it after the first year. _ thumb-suckers con- to want the thumb hree, four orfive years ze.) These mothers
OS BY JOE DIPIETRO
happened to think the pacifier looked cute bobbing in an infant’s mouth, but thought it looked babyish and unattractive in a runabout child. I can’t help feeling that if you are going to let a child become dependent on a pacifier in the first year it isn’t fair to try to tear it away from him later just because he has learned to walk.
Aside from the question whether a pacifier, used early, is some help in preventing an even longer- lasting thumb-sucking, there is its helpfulness in other conditions. I tried it several times, early, for babies who were wakeful, high-strung, fretful dur- ing the early months and thought that it was a great comfort to some of them.
Dr. Milton Levine, a pediatrician in New York City, wrotea medical article a few years ago report- ing his success with pacifi- ers for babies with real ‘three-month colic.’ | was sorry I was no longer in pediatric practice so that I could try it myself. I cer- tainly had never found anything else that was a dramatic success for this distressing condition.
I’d be interested in hear- ing from any of you who have had particular suc- cesses or failures with paci- fiers, for these or other conditions. EN
Spock says:—‘‘Enjoy him as he is—
that’s how he'll grow up best.”
Spock says:—‘‘Don't be afraid to
trust your Own common Sense. . . a
SPOCK EXPLAINS
When the Goulds asked me to write regu- lar articles for the JOURNAL I answered that it tired me out just to think of writing a full article on one subject each month. For a week I'd be putting it off but hav- ing no fun. Then it would take another week of evenings to write it, what With sharpening pencils and wondering how to begin. And I’d always be worrying about running out of major topics unless I kept repeating myself. 2
But I said I thought a column would be a lot easier. It wouldn’t have to be so long or so stuffy. For these same reasons | could imagine you parents enjoying it more. The editors suggested a column that would answer readers’ letters be- cause then I’d surely be dealing with topics that interested you most. Also, people like to feel they can get at a lecturer or writer and bring him down in a practical and personal way to their par- ticular problem. I liked the idea of letters for part of the time, but I also want a chance to take up topics like legislation affecting children (it sounds dull but isn’t necessarily dull), preparation for parent- hood, personal experiences, that readers wouldn’t bring up but I will be bursting with opinions about.
There will be difficulties in letter an- swering. A person who has an unusual or severe medical or psychological problem naturally turns to a lecturer or writer, but such a case has little interest for most readers and.is usually much too compli- cated to be explained in a letter or ade- quately discussed in a column. There’s no chance at all that I can answer any letter personally, and of course others on the magazine have not the medical training to do so. So please don’t write for spe- cial advice. We'll be glad to have letters suggesting topics of everyday interest and I promise to take up the ones that are mentioned most frequently. END
43
T the last moment Beth Adams snatched two dangling
bobby pins from her back hair, and then with as much dignity as she could muster she and her three white-collared sons followed the tall, handsome, white-carnationed usher down the aisle to their accustomed pew.
She gave the usher a small smile and rolled her brown eyes slightly, which meant, What a rat race; I know !'ma mess, you look elegant with your white carnation.
He bowed and handed her an order of worship.
“Didn’t daddy know us?” whispered John, who was six.
David, eleven, hissed that his little brother was to shut up.
Beth reached for the program which Mike, eight, had al- ready started to fold into an airplane, noted that his nails were black-rimmed in spite of a thorough scrubbing last night, and put her other hand over her eyes as she bowed her head for the brief invocation.
This was the first time she had sat still with nothing to do since early morning, and she felt shaky from all the rushing. Unexpected guests had stayed late last night, so that the usual Saturday-night assembly of Sabbath attire for her three boys and one girl had been postponed until this morn- ing. What a scramble it had been, with the kids behaving as they always seemed to do when she was harried. David, newly conscious of hair, had hit John because he spilled his bottle of hair lotion. Four-year-old Melinda had cried be- cause her brand-new starched petticoat had to be hidden under last year’s dress. Mike had stayed at her heels. He _had been in one of his expansive moods—sometimes so en- dearing, this morning so trying—and had observed that Sunday had a different smell. “I mean, if I was someplace without any calendar and some crook or somebody had knocked me out and I came to, well, when it was Sunday, mom, I bet I’d know it.”
She couldn’t remember whether she had answered him, since at the moment she had been busy with the polish- ing of four pairs of shoes and the browning of the chicken. Good heavens ! she thought now. Did I or did I not turn down the heat under that chicken?
The congregation was standing and David handed her a hymnbook opened to the first hymn. It was O Day of Rest and Gladness. She sang it without enthusiasm. Day of rest, she thought, and a glance at the hymnal confirmed her guess that the words had been written by a man. Sunday was unquestionably the hardest day of her week. She wished she could figure out some way to make it easier, Not try to have a big Sunday dinner and the best dessert of the week, maybe. Or skip church. Some people did it that way and often she was tempted. How good it would seem to lie abed late, have sandwiches for lunch; work around outside a bit, just take it easy. There were those who argued, not without convincingness, that there was more actual religion in that kind of Sunday.
Church-on-Sunday she thought of as being an important part of the life she and Dave were trying to give their chil- dren, and yet increasingly, it seemed, the children employed every known maneuver, CONTINUED ON PAGE 75
a
| dip E
i
8 Qa = = —~
o
S = S S =
~ ~ = ~ ~ S SO ~
leg
he
>
known
e€asons Un
r
for
and Beth 1
d
ibute
-edistr
her sons.
—
aa
=
SEU IR
ew idea—a duet of coffee tables ins tead of the usual big one. Ad\ antage : they move easily at your guests’ convenience. Antique-blue taffeta-and-foam-rubber seat cush
ee
By A. T. Wii
47
Here, in a modern mood, is a room where time stands still and cares of the day fall away, a room that says, ‘“‘Modern can be touched with magic! Because a room is comfortable, functional, practical, it does not have to sacrifice beauty.” a
Take our color scheme, for instance. It is as iridescent as a jewel, yet the soft blue cotton-and-rayon tufted rug is both inexpensive ($139.50, 9’ x 10’) and washable. At each side of the fireplace, brass-fitted chests are a high-luster vivid pink lacquer—also washable and impervious to water and alcohol. These, incidentally, started out as unpainted chests and conceal multiple storage drawers and shelves. Two chairs of cane and beechwood are painted a cool aquamarine and pillowed in chintz fresh as a water color. Draperies of clover-pink silk filter the light, and at night shutters can close and still let in a flutter of breeze. For dining oran after- dinner game, a round table of gold-toned mahogany is com- bined with chairs of white ash with woven cellophane seats.
A room to come back to with joy again and again and again! Strictly contemporary—brass-and-mahogany desk with white glass top.
Contrast in woods adds distinction. Chairs are white ash with woven cellophane seats and table is gold-toned mahogany.
CUED)
HAROLD FOWLER
Anite ree hner ea
AstnAnaARiOMDRN ARR
look graceful and trim.
nodern room thatadds charm
to comfort. A color scheme as lighthearted as a
nese waltz. Accessories that
sparkle and please the eye.
Oe in Shorts—linen ones worn with silk top, cotton seahorse blouse, jersey pull-over, pretty print. Add fun belts, big straw bags.
Garsoutet at the beach—mother wears full skirt and blouse of gingham in checks of three sizes. Child in pique dress and faded-blue sneakers.
V | onogrammed pique bathing suit by Carolyn Schnurer ; Gustave’s crushed kid slippers with straw- berry trim. Linda in terry-cloth shorts and shirt.
ie — ee
Sunfish cotton prini in a halter dress to wear to lunch, Patent slippers with straw bows, by Ben Sommers. Brace- let by Rettenmeyer.|
WE LIVE AT THE
i ther and daugh- ter in chambray-denim shorts stitched in white, cotton shirts.
——— 1 oe in checked cotton and piqué by = Muriel Ryan. Little girl in a garden print.
Going to town in silk-and-cotton dresses by Nornie Lanz.
ee WILHELA CUSHMAN be a oe = { = 6s « ez co 7 sees Sete ere 2 < > © © *& *,. ia ed * “2 «© . ne F . » = mde AS s.? ss *
aside fun—wool bathing suit Brigance, child in seersucker.
BS.A, style... Seaside,
ountryszde
iE verybody looks young, feels young. Mothers re like big sisters*in their shorts, pull-overs and rinted shirts. Big sisters are like little sisters in heir seersucker bathing suits, terry-cloth tops, crazy otton beach hats. Checked gingham and white qué are universal in bathing suits and lunchtime lresses. Everybody has a roomy hip-length jacket ind a blanket-size, bold-colored beach towel, a pecial silk or cotton print for buffet lunches, at east one bare-back sun dress, bright cotton or traw-cloth shoes. By WILHELA CUSHMAN
Fashion Editor of the Journal
-EACH
50
BEAUTY BIOGRAPHY No. 3
Me Vis She bil SI had to make myself, fiat”
Most every girl harbors in her heart
the desire to fall in love, captivate and marry the man of her dreams. But sometimes
the steps that lead from the wish to the wedding are discouragingly steep. Following is
2 a the story of one girl who spent most of her uartet in shorts—linen ones worn with silk ~ “ire years convinced she would top, cotton seahorse blouse, jersey pull-over, ___'s a butterball — but never a bride.
pretty print. Add fun belts, big straw bags. MEASUREMENTS
BUST
WAIST | HIPS | THIGHS | ANKLE
Gartoutet at the beach—mother wears full skirt P| 3 BOE Aer 988k a 2B eee and blouse of gingham in checks of three sizes. Child in pique dress and faded-blue sneakers.
4” 39” 2a. 394” aan 9”
= By DAWN CROWELL NORMAN
Beauty Editor of the Journal
ws 16 Here is Doris’ story as she has told it to us:
*LL never forget my first date with Dennis. Although we had been brought upin the same town, and [had had acrush on him for years, we had never been introduced: It was a blind date arranged through a mutual friend. Fearing he might back out if he knew whom he was dating, she told him
Then it was to be a surprise. a I wore my prettiest dress, a yellow linen, and had the a works—shampoo, set and manicure—at the beauty parlor.
hae But a 240-pound girl, even meticulously groomed, is hardly a ‘ould —_ catch for a handsome, eligible Air Force sergeant. When
cae Dennis saw me his face dropped a mile. ed He took me to a movie, making sure to walk behind me as roing we entered the theater. He didn’t want to be seen dating osed. Fatty Stradley. After the show, he asked, ““You don’t want keto anything to ear, do you?” I was home almost before I could won- answer “No, thanks.” His duty done, the man of my dreams disappeared into the dark, calling back, “I'll be seeing you.” LL It was obvious he didn’t mean to if he could help. it. The
average girl might have given CONTINUED ON PAGE 73
TOHN ENGSTEAD
HSER UA teenie: iene ra
51
Doris pictured on her honeymoon with the “man of her dreams,” Sgt. Dennis McFall. Says Dennis: “I’m very proud of my wife. She’s a wonderful girland through
her own efforts she has made herself wonderful-looking too!”
Raw-Vegetable Appetizer Soup
Ginger Beef on French Bread \} Corn on the Cob Skillet Beans Relishes ®
Apple-Apricot Pie with Cheese or Watermelon
Coffee (Planned for 8)
T’S July and vacations are here. Your dear old buddies from back home are on the march. They aren’t coming in to borrow two eggs and acup of sugar. They are coming to sit out from two days to two weeks of your hottest months. They toil not, neither do they spin. They eat. So now, whether you’re entertaining house guests or hay- ing a few of your cronies in for luncheon and a game, an| appetizing, cool and photogenic menu (eye appeal as well as taste) is in order. The first course, a favorite of all, is brought right from the coldest spot, in fragile, frosty cold cups, and with it come salty biscuits and thin slices of pum- pernickel. It is jellied chicken broth and here is the receipt:
ity
Jellied Chicken Broth Shrimp Rockefeller Green Salad Hot Rolls Ice Cream in Melon Rings Iced Tea (Planned for 6)
Jellied Chicken Broth
often 2 envelopes unflavored gelatin in 4 cup chicken broth, dur Own or canned. Dissolve over hot water and add to 4% ips cold chicken broth. Mix it well and chill it until jellied. It peace of mind to get this into the refrigerator a day or night sfore. Add '2 teaspoon curry powder to % cup thick com- ercial sour cream. When it’s serving time, fill chilled soup cups vo thirds full of the jellied broth. Garnish each cup with a oonful of the sour-cream mixture, and sprinkle each with teaspoon chopped chives. It’s well to hang a fancy cut of mon on the cup and put a flick of ground peanuts on top.
The main course of this luncheon is:
STUART-FOWLER
Shrimp Rockefeller
Chop very fine '2 pound fresh spinach, washed and well drained and then dried in a towel (this is important and don’t forget it), 6 scallions or little green onions not old enough to answer back, 4 head lettuce (make 2 cups chopped), 12 stalks celery, 1 clove garlic and '% cup parsley. Chop it all up. Heat together '2 cup butter or margarine, | tablespoon Worcestershire sauce, 2 tea- spoons anchovy paste, |!2 teaspoons salt and ' teaspoon Ta- basco sauce. And scant the last—once in, it’s in for good. Out on the table, it may go in, if you like it. Add chopped greens (about 1 quart in all) to the seasoned mixture and simmer 10 minutes or until the vegetables are tender. Add '* cup soft bread crumbs. Taste for seasoning. By the way, CONTINUED ON PAGE 79
54
KAROLIK COLLECTION, MUSEUM OF FINE ARTS, BOSTON
I Ir I Coutp LEarN I often feel if I could steal Down by a river’s brink, And there could stay one livelong day Nor idly dream the hours away— I'd learn to think.
If I could wake and measure take Of the sky’s unsullied blue, Make heaven seem more than a dream Like fishing in a quiet stream— Dreams might come true.
If I could live and learn to give With both hands open wide, My love would be an unplumbed sea, Returning waves of love to me— And more beside.
2 Quaint as a crinoline, but the nicest summer refresh- ment you can think of. Cake and lemonade—angel cake would be my choice. And so easy, what with cake mixes and lemonade concentrates.
<A vacuum bottle of coffee is a must in the picnic basket. But some take it black, some like cream. What to do? Have it black in the bottle, then take along a little can of powdered cream compound. You’re all set.
4 An easy summer way to baked ham is via the canned- ham route. Needs baking in a slow oven only long enough to heat it through. I like mine glazed. Sieve enough canned apricot halves to make | cup. Add 2 tablespoons prepared mustard. Glaze the ham with this. Garnish the platter with canned apricot halves for pretty.
*® A slick fish dish, to my mind, is this one, done with herbed crumbs. Part J: Cut 114 pounds fish fillets into serving pieces and arrange in a greased baking dish. Sprinkle with salt and dot with butter or margarine.
@ Part 2: Combine 3 cups soft bread crumbs with 4 cup melted butter or margarine. Add 14 teaspoon pepper, % teaspoon orégano, 4 teaspoon marjoram and °4 tea- spoon salt. Toss lightly. Cover fish with crumbs. Bake at 375° F. 25 minutes, or until crumbs are brown.
7 A hot-weather salad is composed of little ‘cocktail’ shrimp, unsweetened fresh pineapple cut into pieces, and sliced ripe olives. Dress with mayonnaise. Serve very cold in lettuce cups and garnish with water cress and salted almonds.
% Did you know that grated orange, lime or lemon rind for flavoring will keep a week, maybe longer, in a tightly closed glass jar in the refrigerator?
® Surround a platter of creamy scrambled eggs with buttered toast points spread with puréed avocado lightly sprinkled with salt. Scrambled eggs with personality!
“*Cotton Plantation,” probably painted just before the Civil War in Louisiana, It is signed ‘*C. Giroux,”’ but nothing is known of the artist.
10 The only blue food comes to market just before the Fourth of July. Just in time for a festive dessert to honor the day. Alternate spoonfuls of softened raspberry sher- bet and vanilla ice cream in a freezing tray. Freeze firm. Spoon into sherbet glasses. Sprinkle with blueberries.
Ei From an old cookbook: ‘““My mother’s receipt for plum cake was left to me, a treasured heirloom,”’ writes Mrs. Anon. Here it is: ““Ten pounds flour, ten pounds sugar, eight pounds butter, twenty-five pounds currants, two ounces mace, two ounces nutmeg, one half pint rose- water, one half spirits, two pounds citron, ninety eggs. Make into a paste.”” My ma wouldn’t have willed it to me. She’d have felt sure I’d have tried it.
i It’s the season again when cold soups come to the table frequently. I have some ideas for dressing up famil- iar favorites to bring surprise to the palate and delight to the eyes. Fold a tablespoon or so of chopped, buttered, toasted almonds (you can buy them in a can) into each cup of otherwise plain jellied consommeé.
138 Here’s another: Thin canned cream-of-chicken soup with the proper amount of milk. I like to use half light cream. Flavor with | teaspoon curry powder blended with a little cold water. Be generous with minced chives. Good? You bet it is.
14 Folks say that fruit appetizers are working their way into the hors-d’oeuvre department. Here’s one that goes over well: Serve frozen pineapple chunks thawed to the almost, but not quite, stage on a bed of grape leaves. Have a grape arbor? Pick some. More to come.
15 Set 2 bowls alongside—one containing grated Amer- ican cheese and the other grated coconut. Spear the pineapple chunks with toothpicks. Now to dip in either cheese or coconut. Try both. Delicious!
1G At a party a spell back I came across an hors d’oeuvre so elegant that I must share it. Mix together finely chopped cucumbers and water cress. Add diced lobster meat and mayonnaise. Fill tiny cream-puff shells or pastries, or spread on pumpernickel bread.
I@ Cool as an old maid’s stare at a debutante ball, the ripe cantaloupe doubles as a bowl for other fruit, And provides a lovely dessert. Cut it in half, lengthwise. Re- move seeds. Fill with cut peaches, cherries, seedless grapes; over all squeeze fresh lemon and orange juice, add a little powdered sugar and chill like a polar breeze,
A& The Fourth is a holiday and a party is indicated. Fried chicken is a must. Fry young broilers, split, until brown all over. Cover with bacon in a pan. Add 1 cup milk, ’4 cup cream and 1 cup chicken broth and bake in a moderate oven—350° F.—for about 45 minutes.
M$} Cont'd: Take out the broilers and keep hot. Finish
‘the sauce, adding broth as you need it, thickening to a
heavy cream consistency, with a little flour and seasoning properly. Garnish with canned apricot halves heated in their own sirup. Pass the sauce separately.
20 Another easy-come-easy-go dessert, for it’s summer and let’s be a little lazy. Ice cream? Why not? Take slices of angel cake, cover each slice with a good scoop of peach ice cream. Add a rain cape of pie meringue over the whole business. Bake in a hot oven just long enough to tinge with brown.
21 And who isn’t looking for a cooling summer drink? Empty the contents of 1 can lemonade concentrate into a quart container, and fill the container with chilled ginger ale. And if you like a touch of pink, 4 cup rasp- berry sirup will not go amiss. This, should you inquire, is known as a Lemon Sparkle. Refreshing too.
22 A salad homer. First inning: If it’s on your mind to give family or guests a salad treat, get some little toma- toes, peel them and marinate in oil and lemon juice. Slice some hard-cooked eggs, a few slices of crisp bacon, and 6 or 8 artichoke bottoms (the kind that come in glass jars).
2:3 Second inning: Add some cut celery hearts, and some sliced black olives. Toss together with Roquefort mayonnaise. Lettuce, of course. The last word in salads.
24 Mulled cranberry sauce is a good relish to go with the cold-meat platter. To a 1-pound can whole-cranberry sauce add 6 cloves and a piece of stick cinnamon. Let it stand in the refrigerator 24 hours to “‘mull.”’
2% Back to salads. Sprinkle well-chilled canned grape- fruit sections with celery seed or celery salt. Arrange on shredded lettuce and serve with French dressing.
26 If your family goes for barbecues, try this: Slice 1 can luncheon meat into 6 slices and arrange in a shal- low skillet. One with a cover. Pour over the meat some ready-made barbecue sauce. Cover and simmer 5 min- utes or until the meat is heated through and the sauce bubbling. Serve with French bread and a green salad.
27 Variation on the “sardine on rye’’ sandwich: Spread thin slices of rye bread with butter or margarine, then with mashed sardines. Top with thin slices of cucum- ber and tomato. More rye on top, of course. Good!
28% Summer calls for fruit desserts. Serve chilled canned pears with lemon sauce; sprinkle on toasted coconut.
29% Freeze an ice-cube tray of tea—with a sprig of fresh mint in each cube. For iced tea, naturally.
:3@ From now until the leaves fall hamburgers will be sizzling in patios and back yards.I know something good to serve with them. Read on.
*BI To 1 cup chili sauce add 1 tablespoon horse-radish, several dashes of Tabasco. Combine with 1 cup chopped water cress. Hot! But good, Esmeralda. Your ANNIE.
How to plan
Ideal Summer
Meals
around delicious
bowls of Soup
HERE’S NO NEED to stifle Tis ahot kitchen this sum- mer. Witha well stocked Soup Shelf you can have
tempting, easy, delicious meals—planned around soup.
NEMARSHALL ~~ For example, keep plenty of 1 Home Economics Ghiek Noodl S ell Soup Company icken oodle oup on hand. It’s generous with chicken and egg noodles, in ¢n chicken broth. Don’t forget Vegetable Soup, s almost a meal in itself, with 15 tender vege- s in hearty beef stock. And another very satis- , soup is Bean with Bacon, thick and savory.
1 favorite sandwich fillings ready for use... neal’s practically on the table in no time. And
a good meal! Really ideal, for Summer. 2 to order to give you more time for porch, or park.
EGETABLE SOUP, with deviled ham spread,
a honeydew and raspberry salad.
HICKEN NOODLE SOUP, with sliced egg and
n sandwich, tomato and watercress salad.
:-AN WITH BACON SOUP, with brown bread scream cheese sandwich and tossed green salad lettuce cup.
SUGGESTIONS FOR USING
-
56
RED CROSS
Cotton Ralls
al
For removing nail polish
make-up
removing
q ' 2. | applying home permanents beauty care For baby care first aid use
RED cross
COTTON BALLS
(ofmson «fol on ; a ee —
YO sterile Gol VyOU af ot WOW
No connection whatever with American National Red Cross
In the quiet dawn light after Katherine had been weeping for many hours, she heard the nightingales singing from a thicket behind the inn. She eased her bruised body into a position as far from Hugh as possible. He lay on his back, snoring heavily.
Hugh stirred and murmured in his sleep. He reached his arm out as though he searched for her. She lay motionless, watching coldly through narrowed lids. His gesture did not touch her; he was as alien to her now as had been the panting, heaving beast earlier. But she would never be afraid of him again. Noth- ing that he did could touch her. She would be a dutiful wife, but yet she would be free. Be- cause he loved and lusted and floundered while she did not, she would be forever free.
Thus Katherine thought on her first morn- ing of wifehood in the ugly loft room of the inn at Waltham Cross.
On their way to Lincolnshire, Hugh, Kath- erine and Ellis spent three more nights on the road. Katherine was neither happy nor sad. She treated Hugh in a cool, friendly-enough manner. He marked with jealousy that all her warmth and tender pleasure went to the little mare he had given her. She had named it Doucette, and she was forever patting its neck and murmuring little love words to it. Hugh fclt hot anger at the horse, but this he tried to hide, being afraid of Katherine’s scorn.
Wednesday, when they were a few miles south of Lincoln Town, they turned off the Ermine Way and climbed the ridge to see Hugh’s smaller manor of Coleby, which he held in fee from the Duke of Lancaster. This manor was much neglected, its house nothing but a crumbling shell, where Hugh’s reeve, a sottish man named Edgar Pock-face, dwelt in the leaky hall with a brood of fifteen children. The reeve came lurching out the door as he heard horses. Hugh dismounted, glaring around at the tumble-down dovecot, the byres and stables half unroofed.
‘“By God’s blood, Edgar Pock-face!’’ he cried. “Is this the care you give my manor?”
Edgar mumbled that the serfs refused to do their work, it had been so long since Sir Hugh or his bailiff had come here they had near for- got they were not freemen.
Hocu raised his hand and struck the stupid face a vicious blow. “‘Then this will remind you that you are not free!” The man staggered back and fell in the muck. Then, as though he had settled the whole matter of the manor’s management, Hugh mounted his horse and, gesturing to Katherine and Ellis, led the way back to the highroad.
Katherine was pained and puzzled. She did not yet know that Hugh was the most indiffer- ent of landlords, caring nothing for hus- bandry. He had not been home in three years. So long as Hugh gave knight’s service to the duke, his wants and those of Ellis were pro- vided for, and soon his wartime wages from the duke would commence. It was on the pros- pects of these that he had raised cash in Lon- don to finance his wedding and buy Kather- ine’s palfrey. But the forced gift to the Black Cross at Waltham had so reduced him that now he had but a few pence left.
Katherine did not think long about the di- lapidation of Coleby, assuming that all would be different at Kettlethorpe, the home manor. It had been drizzling all day, but now the dun clouds dropped lower and the rain sliced cold and straight as knives.
They plodded on, meeting nobody. As they drew nearer the manor lodge the wind came up and blew the rain in their faces. It was dark when they saw upon the left a pair of tall iron gates, and a cottage just inside.
**Kettlethorpe!” said Hugh. ‘*We’ll soon be dry and sheltered, Katherine.”
But no one came to open the gate. The lodgekeeper’s thatched shanty remained dark
| and no smoke came from its chimney.
“The devil and his foul fiends take this wretched churl. Il] have him put in the stocks!” | Hugh drew his sword and dealt the old pad- | lock a violent blow. The chain that held it
parted; the padlock dangled free.
KATHERINE
CONTINUED FROM PAGE 35
Ellis pushed back the creaking gates and said in surprise, ‘‘This road has not been used for long, Sir Hugh. ’Tis full overgrown.”
There was, in fact, no road at all, though its place was marked by an avenue of magnifi- cent wych-elms, tall as steeples. Beneath the elms there was a tangle of weeds, bushes, long grasses. The horses balked, seeking some easier way. Ellis had to go ahead on foot, beat- ing down the thicket with his sword.
Is there no end to this journey? Katherine thought, shivering, and noted that Hugh had fallen silent.
For nearly a mile they fought their way along the abandoned road, then suddenly Katherine saw a church on her right, a dark shape of the cross against the darker sky, while to the left there were a huddle of build- ings. Still there were no lights, and no sound but the wind and the slash of rain.
They rode into the muddy outer court, and now Katherine saw the gleam of a small moat and a low stone gatehouse, its wooden bridge drawn up against the arch.
‘“‘Ho, Kettlethorpe!’’ shouted Hugh. “‘Gib- bon le Bailey! Lady Nichola! Open up!”
Still the uncanny silence held. Then it was broken by a frenzied baying from the inner court.
“°Tis old Ajax,” cried Hugh, with uncon- cealed relief. ““Someone’s there. Open up!”
A dim white head peered out of the peep- hole above the gatehouse, and a voice cried, ‘‘Who is’t now that makes such a clamor?”
“Toby Napper, what ails you all? A fine welcome this for the lord of the manor and his new lady!”
The white head disappeared, the windlass began to creak until the rickety bridge flopped across the narrow moat. The horses crossed into the inner courtyard where the hound came bounding and growling at them. But he knew Hugh’s voice, and when Hugh gave him a powerful kick he slunk into the shadows.
Then Hugh turned on the gatehouse keeper, who stood holding a wavering horn lantern. ““Where’re the stableboys? Where the house servants ?””
““Nought but me, m’lord, for this year past. M’lady turned ’em out. No one sleeps in the manor but me and m’lady—and—and Gib- bon.”
“Aye, and what of Gibbon? Why isn’t he here?”
“Ah, he’s dying, is Gibbon,”’ said the old man unctuously. ““There’s a worm gnawing of
LADIES’ HOME J
his bones. He lies abed all day and move.”
Hugh made an exclamation, grabbed lantern and threw open the unbolted the great hall. Inside it was as dark an as out. There was no fire. The eating planks and benches were stacked high far wall. Rain splashed through a hole thatched roof.
“Ellis!” Hugh cried. ‘‘Gallop to the and bring back serfs. We must have fi o| warmth, no matter what’s amiss here!”
The squire ran out and mounted Hugh put the lantern on the hard- earthen floor. He turned slowly from ¢ of the hall to the other, remembering i days of his boyhood when there ha torch and firelight, the smell of roas ed and ten servants running to attend the ford appetites.
Karner crumpled down in one window embrasures, so cold and wear she could not think. Then through haustion she heard a rustling at the da woman stood there, staring at Hugh. $ small and thin as a stick, her black flapped around her in the wind from t opened door, and her triangular widow was no whiter than her narrow face. |
“Is it you—Hugh?” She spoke in 4 sighing voice in which there was neith i ;
prise nor pleasure nor dismay. “I th you’d come. They told me so.”” 1
Hugh had jumped back as she appeare denly, gliding into the hall. “Aye, lady said warily, not moving toward her. come home, with my bride.’”’ He point Katherine. “And I mislike the welco \ give to the new Lady of Kettlethorpe.” ©
The woman turned her mournful gai Katherine. “A bride?” she said. “A bri Kettlethorpe? They did not tell me that.)
“Who did not tell you, madam?” | snapped.
The Lady Nichola Swynford waved hand vaguely toward the east. “The folk live in the water, in the river, in the well, mustn’t say their name. They tell me’ things.” ’
‘‘God’s wounds,” Hugh whispered, C
ing himself. ‘‘She’s lost the few wits she k The girl nodded. They both watcheg
i
Lady Nichola, who began to drift re tL
around the hall. As the black-robed f came to the water that streamed through
“It's either the roar of a wild panther or the trolley car on Main Street.”
to the dais, she stopped. She cupped ds and caught some of the water, mur- soft words to it.
erine shut her eyes again. A merciful sss fell across her mind.
yg the next days at Kettlethorpe, Kath- d opportunity for the exercise of many s she had not known she possessed. ong young body recovered soon from austion of her arrival; the acceptance itions so different from her imaginings ger. Yet a sturdy common sense came uid. For better or worse, this was now e, and she the lady of the manor. She Id enough to feel pride in the sudden sibilities thrust upon her. ethorpe had never been a populous or lly productive manor, the soil being only to the growth of hay, flax, hemp sh. Earlier owners had had large hold- ewhere to supplement their rents, as igh’s father until mismanagement had >d off Nichola’s dowry, leaving the rds only Coleby and Kettlethorpe. hese two would have supported them ufficient comfort, were they well ad- red. Hugh had near sixty serfs at Ket- ye, plenty to give him week work on his arms, boon work at the harvests, and york to run the manor. The trouble was |: the Lady Nichola’s eccentricities and rtal sickness which had attacked Gib- e bailiff. > days after Katherine’s arrival she de- see this man who lay in a wattle-and- it at the end of the courtyard. veather had cleared and Hugh, having and whipped some sulky serfs from yn field work and back into the manor , had taken Ellis and ridden into the o hunt for sorely needed food. The must be replenished; they were com- empty. Lady Nichola lived on sheep’s id stewed herbs which she cooked her- bbon existed on the fitful donations of y Brewster, the village alewife, but her duties and brood of babies left her ne for charity. No one knew what old ved on in the gatehouse, but he was , despite his age, and there had been ‘to notice the squeal of snared rabbits ord’s hunting preserve. erine had not asked Hugh’s permis- visit the bailiff. Already she had learned -mention of painful subjects induced in angry stubbornness which might well d to refusal. vaited until she saw the tip of his long- appear into the forest, then set herself ured inspection of her domain. She de- o visit the Lady Nichola first in the oom. She had not seen her mother-in- e the night of arrival. ower had been built, as had the manor, red and fifty years ago. It was attached aall and solar, but there was no com- tion with these except by the outside e, which also served the solar. The plan was simple. There was the d two-storied hall, forty feet long, and row solar where Katherine slept with vas tacked high onto its western end. 1 the solar lay an undercroft for stores. eastern end of the hall there was a , and a half loft above it where the s slept. These and the tower with its donjon and two round rooms above | there was to Kettlethorpe.
; a more primitive dwelling than any ine had ever known; even the convent jpey had been more luxurious. And the ings at Kettlethorpe she deemed shock- lain and scanty for a knight’s home. inks and trestles and benches in the hall roughly hewn as those in a rustic’s cot, he solar was furnished only with a box frame heaped with a moldering eather bed and a bearskin for a cover- surprised her that there should be no of the slightest value to be seen, nor a y to keep out the constant drafts.
1e ascended the outside flight of wooden ito the tower, her heart beat fast, for ird the Lady Nichola’s high murmur- it out onto the still air. The dairymaid at the Lady Nichola had water-elf sick-
ness, a fearsome spell; and none of the sery- ants would go near her.
Katherine mounted the stairs and entered the tower’s ancient guardroom. The room con- tained only two ironbound chests. In the cen- ter of the stone floor there was a rusty grille over the air shaft to the donjon beneath; it had long been empty of all but rats that tunneled upward from the surrounding moat. Kath- erine saw that dust lay thick on the chests and a drift of dead leaves had blown into the corners.
She climbed the narrow stone steps and came to the top room. A mangy deerhide barred the doorway. The murmuring had stopped; there was a listening silence within.
Katherine cleared her throat and called softly, “My Lady Swynford! It’s Katherine, Hugh’s bride. May I enter?”
She heard a scuffling noise as though some- thing were being quickly hidden and a tiny stifled sound, sharp and high, but there was no answer.
She pushed the deerhide and entered. ‘‘Ah, no!” she cried when she saw the little black figure. ““My poor lady, you mustn’t be afraid of me!”
ie: Lady Nichola, her arms clasped tight across a lumped cloth on her breast, crouched behind her bed. Her dark eyes were fixed on Katherine with dumb terror.
“Dear lady, I won’t hurt you. ’'ve come up to do you honor. See, I'll come no nearer.” Katherine’s voice, low and soft as a viol, thrilled with pity.
Nichola stared unbelieving. ““You’d take her away from me,” she whispered. “Don’t take her away!”
Though the Lady Nichola was over forty and her scant dark hair was streaked with gray, yet her little face, twisted by fear, was somehow childlike.
Katherine stood stock-still as she had prom- ised and saw the clutch of the claw hands slowly relax on the bundle they protected. The cloth heaved and squirmed.
““What have you there, my lady?’’ said Katherine very gently. ““I swear by St. Mary and her blessed Son that I'll not touch it, nor do anything you don’t wish.”
“But Hugh would—he’d take her away from me and beat me as his father did. Beat me because I’m barren.”
Katherine stiffened. ““No,’ one shall beat you.”
The Lady Nichola crept forward to the bed. She put the bundle down on the coarse hemp coverlet.. The cloth heaved and from under- neath there walked out a small bedraggled kitten. It wore a collar of woven grass from which dangled a leash of plaited scarlet wool.
Almost Katherine laughed, for she had ex- pected some shocking thing, a baby perhaps— crazed women did steal babies. ““Dear, my lady,” said Katherine, “‘’tis no sin for you to keep a kitten.”
‘They gave her to me,” said Nichola, strok- ing the little beast while she tied it to the bed- post. ““She was drowning in the river, because they wanted her themselves to play with, down there amongst the reeds, but they let me have her. Sometimes they’re very kind. But they didn’t tell me you were coming—Hugh’s bride.”” Suddenly the unseeing stare left Nichola’s red-rimmed eyes. “‘So there’s a new Lady of Kettlethorpe,” she said. ““How did you come to be here?” She sat down quietly on the bed.
Katherine was startled at the change. Now for a few minutes while there was sanity in Nichola’s questions, Katherine told her some- thing of her life and how she came to marry. Nichola nodded from time to time and listened sadly.
“TI, too, came from the south,” she said, “to this most dismal place. But I was always afraid. He would not have hated me so, had I not been afraid.” She twisted her head and looked at Katherine. ‘Youre beautiful. Yet you will molder here, even as I, and grow ugly and afraid unless—unless ” She jumped up, her voice soared to its high chanting note. “I'll weave a spell for you, Hugh’s bride. Ill make a potion that'll save you.”
She ran to the iron pot which hung on a tripod against the smoke-blackened wall. She blew the smoldering charcoal embers in the
>
she said. ““No
”
j erence a
i
RSMMC EMER OR:
D7,
Are you the master
of your car?
Meee is a favorite pastime for mil- lions of Americans . . . especially during summer when the countryside is so inviting. However, since traffic is heaviest during summertime, long vacation trips
. or short weekend drives . . . can be hazardous.
Safety authorities say that motoring can be safer and more pleasant and relaxing if all drivers learn to keep their cars under control in varying road, weather and traffic conditions.
No driver should ever “take the wheel” when preoccupied, confused or fatigued. When perception is dimmed, no one can be sure he can control his car. If you are planning a long vacation tour, it is wise to keep the following facts in mind for your own safety and that of others.
The majority of accidents due to fatigue occur after long periods of driving. If long distances must be traveled in a day’s time, pace yourself to avoid getting tired. If you do feel tired, pull off the road and take a short nap.
Metropolitan Life Insurance Co.
The competent driver always keeps con- trol of his car by traveling at safe speeds. The rate of speed is still the greatest single factor in automobile accidents. In fact, if existing speed laws in every state were rigidly observed and enforced, many thou- sands of lives could be saved every year.
For safer summer driving, here are other precautions to take:
1. Follow other cars at a safe distance. This distance, of course, should be in- creased at night or when the weather is bad.
2. Always be alert for what other drivers may do, and try to anticipate their possible mistakes.
3. Keep a sharp lookout for pedestri- ans, especially at night and when passing through congested areas.
4. Have your car regularly and thor- oughly checked by acompetent mechanic, especially before taking a long trip.
If you are a relaxed and alert driver, and observe all traffic and safety regula- tions, summer motoring can be fun.
1 Madison Ave., N.Y. 10, N. Y. Please send me the free book- let, 754).
Nanie
Street___
City
FANCY QUALITY ~
aT oC ee
IN ideal ea tg
Prego te) sedi sei oS
Pah Coualay thin, Laver |
fairly bursting with that farm-kitchen good-
Whole California peaches and pears are Those carnival-bright cherries and grapes are the juiciest apple? DOLE-grown in Hawaii, of course. serve your family eating pleasure!
58
pan beneath, and catching up a fistful of dried herbs, began to cast them in the pot.
“Nay, dear lady,”’ said Katherine gently, “I want no potion.”” But she saw that the mo- ment of reason had passed. Nichola did not hear her.
Katherine turned away and slipped from the tower room. She felt no fear now of: the Lady Nichola, but she was heavy of heart. She descended the steps to the courtyard. Ajax, the great mastiff, walked over to her stiff- legged from his kennel, sniffed her gown, then stalked away toward the stables. She fol- lowed him and, entering, went to Doucette’s stall. The little mare greeted her with a whinny, and she threw her arms around its neck. Then she looked at her horse and a sud- den anger possessed her.
She spied a stableboy’s bare legs protruding from a mound of straw in the next stall. ‘‘Wake up, you lazy churl!” she cried. ““What’s your name?’’ Katherine surveyed him with disgust—his matted hair, dangling red hands and torn, dung-spattered tunic.
“Wat—that be Walter—Wat’s son, m’lady.”
“Well, Wat Watson!’’ cried Katherine. ““Why have you not curried my palfrey? Why is the hayrick empty?”
Wat swallowed and said that the hayrick was empty because there was no hay.
“‘There’s green grass in the meadow beyond the moat,’’ she snapped. ““Go pull enough to fill the manger. Then curry Doucette and wa- ter her. When you’ve finished, clean out this foul stable. You should be shamed!”
He nodded, openmouthed. Later in the ale- house he told the story with embellishments. He said that Katherine had belabored him with a pitchfork and roared at him with strange oaths. Nobody believed all this, but it confirmed the general apprehension that the easygoing days were over.
Buoyed on the wave of her anger, Katherine quitted the stables, picked her way through an- cient refuse to the hut where she knew the bailiff lay, and tapped upon the door.
A man’s harsh voice said, ‘““Who’s there?”
She answered, “Katherine Swynford, the new Lady of Kettlethorpe.”’
“Enter then!”
The stench inside the hut nearly knocked her over. She gasped and stepped back into the courtyard. ‘Is he unclean?’’ she whispered, not knowing that she spoke.
“Nay, lady,’ said the bitter voice in the darkness, “I’m no leper. Would that I were, for I'd be with others of my kind and tended by the brothers.”
Katherine came back within the door.
“Open the shutter, lady,” said the voice, half sneering. “’Twill sweeten the air for squeamish noses.”
ocean flung back the little window shut- ter. The cool spring breeze blew across the room and out the door. She looked down at the man who lay on a straw pallet on the floor. A russet mantle covered his body; she could see but his arms. And in his ivory skull-head the eyes were sunk so that she scarcely could see that they were blue. Only the curling brown hair of his head and his matted beard showed that he had been a comely man.
“Behold Gibbon, your steward, my lady,” he said. “I can move nothing but my head, and these fingers—see!”’
“What is it, Gibbon?”’ she asked.
“T know not. It began two years ago with a weakness in my legs. They trembled much. The trembling crept from limb to limb, but now they do not even tremble.”
“You've had a leech?”
““A barber from Torksey bled me often. It does no good.”
“Does no one tend you, Gibbon?”
“Oh, aye—when they remember. Old Toby at times, big Margery Brewster from the vill.”
Katherine frowned. ‘“There must be many changes on the manor!” she cried. ‘‘/’// see that you’re tended properly—then you'll get better.”
He looked at her with some attention. A feeble smile narrowed his sunken lids. ‘‘You’re full young to be so resolute.”
“Is there much pain?” she said. There was a fiagon of ale on the floor, and a piece of bread. She poured ale into a wooden cup and held it to his lips.
LADIES’ HOME
He shook his head to the ale. was here this morning. I was fed. no pain. Where’s Hugh gone? | |B) horses in the courtyard.” ha
‘Hunting in the forest. We need ie said it lightly, that he might not thin ifs proach to his stewardship.
“Hugh told you nought about me, , Gibbon looked up at her. It had i since anyone had lingered to talk to |r
“No,” she said, “she spoke neve i nor of his manors.” y
“Aye, it was always that way. Hug tle interest in his lands, but / had. I fay him, and ruled his villeins. We were ing. Soon we might have made th worthy of Swynfords. I can guess wh tion it’s in.”
“T’ve wondered,” she said, hesitati there are no furnishings, except the
“Hugh sold them at his father’s dé had to pay relief and heriots to his feuc of course, before he could claim h itance. Hugh should find a new bailiff You will need help to administer your
“T bring no dowry,” said Katherine
His silence hurt her so that she fe iliness and added sharply, “‘Is it the ei Lincolnshire for the hired bailiff to himself so deeply in his master’s affairs
Gibbon turned his eyes back to but madam, I, too, am a Swynford, I are half brothers.”
”
H. made a derisive sound in his “‘Simple enough, for I’m a bastard. All most dear father, Sir Thomas, had mé by the Gilbertines at Sempringhaml father made full confession on his de Hugh summoned me to aid him on It was generously done, and I was graté “Aye, it was generously done,” Ka murmured, turning this new aspect o ty band over in her mind. “Gibbon,” sh “‘will you help me when you can, teli tt must be done here?” His lips moved in assent, then fell sk She went quickly out of the hut sunny courtyard. Dear God, this is home, she thought. Soon Hugh and Ellis to Aquitaine and I shall be here alone| crazed woman, a dying man and a pack 0, lious serfs. Then from the forest she heard a Wi looing and the fainter winding of a he least there would be meat for dinner.
Hugh left Kettlethorpe in the rhe Al gust, on the day after the Feast of the A tion. They had managed to celebrate thi with some of the traditional lavishness} had been dancing on the green, while) little church for blessing the peopl} brought samples from the harvest: oat ley and flax plants, in woven baskets.
In June the Manor Court had been he Hugh had dealt out punishment to hi He exacted immediate payment of the rents and fines and clapped those who for time into the stocks, besides per flogging others.
Katherine had had a litter made for G and he had been carried into the hall tot the court. When he found the strength advice, Hugh usually heeded. f
So now in August, the administration manor had improved. New officers had appointed from among the villeins: a hay to guard the rields and pastures, and a Sim the Tanner, the shrewdest man in lage. Sim was cold-eyed and slippery mackerel, but being an indefatigable ¥ himself, would brook no excuses from ft leins it was now his duty to oversee.
Gibbon had suggested that the tann chosen. No life had returned to the ba useless limbs; still, cared for now by a] lad, his mind had lightened and a trace of came into his bone-pale skin. No new! had been found, and in truth Hugh woul have known how to look for one, nor the money for his wages.
On the night of the feast, when Hugl Katherine went to bed, he, being hot wi and suddenly aware of how sorely he ¥ miss her, pulled her roughly toward him
“Let me be, Hugh,” she said sharply.
er flared. “‘How dare you shove me ”’ As she stiffened, turning her head rink-soured breath, he struck her, t hard, across the cheek.
she said with biting contempt, “‘like > son. But you will not need to beat blackthorn stick for that I’m bar-
hy should I not!” Then he caught g. His clenched fists fell open. “Are hild, Katherine?”
lieve,’ she said coldly.
think you itll be born?’’ Hugh’s ed with gladness.
y, I suppose,”’ she answered in the tone.
y?” said Hugh eagerly. ““No doubt k with you. It won’t take us long to astilian rabble.”
> you'll be back, Hugh!” She spoke tly, though in truth she could not ow it would be in May, and longed m go.
must be a midwife on the manor,” 1. “I believe *tis the parson’s wench, k Gibbon. And mind you keep away crazed Nichola; she might upset you wvings, might mark the child.”
- careful, Hugh.” She was faintly y his solicitude. And when he again ‘toward him, but now with clumsy ce, she suffered the scrape of his rd while he kissed her hungrily.
t morning, before the dew was off thé-church bell rang and all the vil- embled to Godspeed their manor
‘as dressed in gleaming armor from s had polished every trace of rust or ne came through the gatehouse and e drawbridge, his serfs gave a polite 2y made way for the parish priest, ered through the lich gate to give ing. Hugh and Ellis knelt on the ) receive it. The priest murmured zed them with holy water. ose and clambered into the saddle mounting block. Then he sat stiff to look down at Katherine. ‘‘Fare- God keep you, my Katherine.” ou, my lord and husband,” she re- suard him well, Ellis,” she added. ne dutifully waved good-by until otting horses faded from sight down avenue of wych-elms. She felt ief nor the slightest doubt that Hugh irn. Her certainty of his safety arose ch from ignorance of war as from a ecognized trust in the overlord he ve. Because the Duke of Lancaster erable, so would his men be. ay grows warm, lady,” said the pping his shining red face. ‘*’Twill ime.”
NE took the hint. “Comé in and r fast with me, Sir Robert. I believe l some mead left from the feast.” ner, the reeve, who stood waiting to peasants back to their tasks, gave a ort. Nobody believed that the priest d his belly. A greedy and lazy man rt de Northwode, but well liked by nonetheless. He came from the par- as the only son of a freeman black- > prospered enough to finance his in the world. Robert took minor d when the old rector died Hugh, at suggestion, appointed Robert to the tainly there were no other eager 3.
however, was pleased. It was agree- addressed by the priest’s honorary ir’ and to have become the chief the parish after the manor lord. Be- and lusty, he soon picked a hearth- tout good-natured wench from the nd with his Molly and their four ints he made himself very comforta- gh canon law denied her the title of ly was not ill thought of. Celibacy asked of monk or friar, but hardly atural a man as a village parson, nor 3ishop of Lincoln trouble himself gularities in poor parishes.
ine had hoped for spiritual and intel- idance from her manor priest. But discovered that Father Robert could
neither read nor write, and that to her timid confessions he scarcely listened, but granted absolution in a hurried gabble before she had finished, while his flat Lincolnshire accent made the Latin he had learned by rote almost ludicrous.
More and more during the autumn months as her pregnancy advanced Katherine drew into herself. She scarcely found the energy for talks with Gibbon and he did not trouble her, having established a fair working relationship with the reeve.
The Lady Nichola was no companion. Now that the weather was bad, she kept always to her tower room with her cat and seemed to be confused by Katherine’s rare visits. Besides, the girl was not unmindful of Hugh’s com- mand. Who knew what might not mark the child?
After the leaves fell and the freezing No- vember rains began, Katherine stayed almost
DERRING-DON'T
BY GEORGIE STARBUCK GALBRAITH
There’s little, my hero, you wouldn’t do
For me, your lady. I know that’s true.
You’d seale Mt. Everest any time.
But what are the chances, beloved, you’d climb
The attic stairs to find me a carton?
Of course you’d leap like a dauntless Spartan
To slaughter a dragon; but, dearest spouse,
Dispose mayhap of a plain old mouse?
You’d swim the Hellespont might and main;
But empty the garbage in the rain?
You’d fetch me the moon, that’s perfectly clear.
But change me a bulb in a chandelier?
I wouldn’t ask it! I want to save
Your strength, my gallant, for something brave
Like moving a mountain, not female sport
Like moving a pennyweight davenport!
entirely in her room, either shivering by the smoking fire or huddled in the great bed be- neath the bearskin. Sometimes she roused her- self and plied a listless needle to make swad- dling clothes for her baby. But the baby still seemed imaginary.
“It ll be different when you quicken, lady,” said Milburga. This was the servant Katherine had chosen as personal waiting maid because she was cleaner and less stupid than the others.
On St. Catherine’s Day, November twenty- fifth, Katherine awoke to find that she had been crying in her sleep, and knew that she had dreamed of her childhood. The fire had died to ashes. Katherine looked at the cold gray ashes and her tears changed to a loud and passionate sobbing. When Milburga bustled in with the morning ale, the maid exclaimed, ‘‘Mistress, what ails ye?”
As the girl merely hid her face in her arms and continued to sob, the woman drew back the covers and made a quick examination.
““Have ye pains, here or here?” she de- manded.
Katherine shook her head. ““Leave me. Go away,”’ and she sobbed more violently.
Milburga’s sallow face tightened. “Stop that, lady! Ye’ll harm the child.”
“Oh, a murrain on the child!”’ cried Kather- ine wildly, rearing herself on the bed.
“St. Mary protect us!” gasped Milburga, backing away.
The wild, angry grief fell off Katherine like a mantle, leaving her afraid. “I didn’t mean it. Send for Sir Robert. Tell him he must celebrate a Mass. This is my saint’s day—my sixteenth— that’s why—why ——”’
But of what use to explain to that shocked face that she had been sobbing for her own childhood. Even at Sheppey the nuns had made a little atmosphere of fete and congrat- ulation for her on this saint’s day. Here there was nobody to either cherish her or care.
Miisurca, bound on her errand to the rec- tory, paused in the kitchen to regale the other servants with their mistress’ shocking be- havior. They clustered around exclaiming, the cook and the servitor and the dairymaid. All work stopped at once, except that little Cob o’ Fenton, the towheaded spitboy, crouched in his niche in the great fireplace, automatically turning the handle with his toes. They were roasting a lean old ewe, and her scanty grease smelled rancid as it hissed into the fire. The manor food was poor, and slackly prepared, now that Lady Katherine kept to her room.
The initial good will Katherine had aroused on the manor by reason of her beauty, youth and the promptness with which she had done her duty in conceiving an heir had soon died down. After all, she was a foreigner. She spoke an English they had trouble understanding. And moreover, she was a nuisance. Were it not for her, the house carls might all have returned to their own pursuits, as they had before Sir Hugh’s brief visit. Katherine, sunk in sickli- ness and torpor, knew that they gave her grudging service, but had not the spirit to care.
On the fourth Sunday in Advent she dragged herself up and, feeling a trifle better, crossed over to the church for Mass. She sat alone and watched as through a fog the priest lurch and gabble through the service. She tried to fix her thoughts upon the elevation of the Host, yet all she could think of were the rolls of pink fat on the priest’s neck and the quivering of oily curls around his tonsure.
It was at that moment that she felt the baby quicken, and was frightened. Katherine stifled acry and rushed from the pew through the side door of the church into the open. She sank on the bench beneath the lich gate and drew great lungfuls of the cold, sparkling air. Her terror receded and she grew ashamed. She must go back into church and apologize to the Blessed Body of Jesus for her irreverence. She got slowly to her feet, then turned, for a horse came galloping down the frozen road.
The horseman reined his mount before the drawbridge and Katherine, with a great leap at her heart, saw that he wore on his tunic the Lancaster red rose.
She ran across the court. ““Whence do you come? Is there news of the war?”
The lad was Piers Roos, the duke’s erstwhile body squire, who had been left at home to serve the duchess. He said with some uncer- tainty, “My Lady Swynford?”
She nodded. “What news do you bring?”
“Nothing but good. At least we know no war news yet from Castile. I come from Bolingbroke, from the Duchess Blanche. She sends you greeting.”
**Ah.”’ Katherine’s drawn little face softened with pleasure. She had never dared hope that the Lady Blanche would remember her.
“She bids me escort you to Bolingbroke for the Christmas festival,” Piers told her, “if you'd like to come.”
Her indrawn breath and the sudden shining of her eyes were answer enough, and Piers Roos laughed, seeing that she was even younger than he was and not the solemn woman she had seemed as he dismounted.
“We'll go tomorrow, then, if you wish. The ride’ll take but a day.”
“I—I cannot go fast,’ faltered Katherine. they think I should not ride at all.”
‘What folly,”’ said Piers cheerfully, under- standing. ““The Lady Blanche is larger than you and she still rides out daily.”
“]
CONTINUED ON PAGE 62
59
mnt
\.
with
Mary Margaret McBride /
Really, I can never get over our American coffee. It just isn’t found anywhere else on earth. We brew it to a pleasantly smooth flavor and distinctive aroma that are en- tirely different from French, Italian or Turkish coffees. And these warm days. nothing can equal the refreshing lift of our own country’s summer version of the year- round favorite — coffee iced. The cardinal rule is this: good iced coffee always starts with good hot coffee! And for perfect iced coffee every time, don’t fail to follow these directions of the Coffee Brewing Institute:
The Pre-Cooled Way
Make your regular strength coffee —one Standard Coffee Measure or two level tablespoons of coffee to each 34 measuring cup of water. Cool in a non-metal container for no more than three hours. The con- tainer should be tightly covered in the refrigerator. Serve in a tall
The Quick Way
Make your coffee double strength
glass filled with ice cubes... add sugar
and cream to taste.
by using half the amount of water to the usual amount of your favor- ite brand of coffee. Pour hot into tail glasses filled with ice cubes. The extra- strong coffee allows for the dilution caused by
the melting of the ice.
A theory that seems to have originated in the tropics is that hot coffee makes you feel cooler. It may be true, too. The hottest, spiciest foods. you know, are traditional in the hot climates. But hot or cold, everyone agrees that there’s nothing like the gentle stimulation of truly fine coffee. The
Coffee Brewing Institute, Ine.
120 Wall St., New York 5, N.Y.
This one centers around a variety vegetable salad served with the one and only Miracle Whip, or Kraft Mayonnaise. Add cheese and slices and you have a menu that’s hefty enough to serve for supper, if you prefer, instead of lunch.
er ad >
Here’s one for the family or for company—hearty sal- mon salad, made with Kraft Mayonnaise, and deviled eggs that are full of zip and quick to fix with Miracle Sandwich Spread. Lots of nutrition on this plate, too.
Light and refreshing for a ladies’ luncheon! But not too light... Kraft Mayonnaise makes the frozen fruit salad filling as well as luscious. New Casino ot Miracle French will bring out the goodness of the other fruits and dress the tender greens to perfection.
LADIES’ HOME
So hearty, the men will go for this! Serve it either for lunch or for the main meal on a hot, hot day. The one and only Miracle Whip makes—abso/utely makes— the coleslaw in the ham roll-ups. For the beans and greens, give the folksa choice of Miracle French or Kraft French
MIRACLE WHIP— Far and away the best liked of all dressings for salad is Kraft’s original creation, the one and onl) Miracle Whip. Sandwiches, seafoods, salads—all get a lift from Miracle Whip Salad Dressing. There’s nothing else like it!
py eae
MH OU ims RECO COEATED OY
Salad Plate Lunches |
j KRAFT MAYONNAISE—True os Steppe A mayonnaise at its finest— made of the choicest in- gredients mixed satiny smooth in Kraft’s own exclusive beater. You'll love the delightful flavor and luxurious richness of
...L/GHT ON WORK AND LONG ON GOODNESS
dressed by Kraft
Wee some good, good ways to be the coolest, most carefree cook in town? Here they are: All-in-one salad lunches that say “cool off” . . . and the dressings that give sx them real come-on.
<n cetmnancne
MIRACLE SANDWICH SPREAD —A Thousand Island type dressing. Kraft adds lots and lots of special pickle relishes to Miracle Whip to make handy, hearty Miracle Sandwich Spread. Wonderful on salads and grand for sandwiches just as it comes from the jar.
You can drop your salad dressing cares when you let Kraft do the making. Always ready, and always just right, with Kraft’s you're sure of pleasing.
And what a grand choice of dressings the Kraft Family includes! There’s the all-American favorite, Miracle Whip ... and spicy, hearty Miracle Sandwich Spread. Also the finest of Mayonnaise . . . and three delightful French dressings. Variety to set off