Sunk
By PERIODIC PAIN
Every month Deborah wu sunk by
funtthnsl mtnstrusi dhtrtu. Now she ,
u take Midol and goes her way
in comfcxt because Midol tablets
contain:
An exclusive anti-spasmodic that
Stops Cramping . . .
, Medically-approved ingredients
that Reuevi headache and Back
ache . , . Calm Jumpy Nieves . . .
A special, mood-brightening; med
ication that Chases "Blues.'
"WHAT WOMEN WANT TO KNOW"
FRtlt Frank, wtoling 37-poo book,
pkMM womonhood'i mot$ commm phytkol
proMom. Writtsn by a phyacfofi. Writ
Dapl.33. Bo 2S0, Nw York IS, N.Y. ISant
mi ptawi wrapper J
m
Saved
r
STOP PAIN
INSTANTLY
COMBAT INFECTION
PROMOTE HEAUN6
WITH SOOTHIN
Campho-
Phenique
(miMtvmcit CAs-m-tm it )
use IT FOR
FEVER BLISTERS
COLD SORES,
GUM BOILS
Not only do fever
hllntrra heal faater,
but the name thinjr
happena when Cim-pho-Phrnlque
la
uaed on cold aorea.
itum boila. Wonder
full aoothinar too,
fur minor burna,
imtaon Ivy, Itch In
of Inflect bltea. Ami Campho
lhtnlque la a highly effective,
paln-rellvlnic antlarptlc for
minor cuta and acratchea from
paring knlvea, can openera, tin
a. .
1 l'ned on plmplea, rampho
I I'henUtue helpa prevent their
npread and re-lnfeetlon.
II
Cordon BloooyI
Cooking' an art, or supposed to be.
So I never go by a recipe.
Soups or salads or cakes or pieiti
I cook ad lib and I Improvise.
A dab of thai, a little of ihUi
I throw il together hit or mis.
For art's not art if you bind
and curb it.
So be il beans or banana sherbet,
I blithely sing, "A fig for the book!"
And, golly, am I a lonsy cook!
Georgia Starbuch Galbraith
Ik trV
Quips
and
Quotes
Like many husbands, he had a
hard time getting started for work
in the morning. This particular day
he sat bleary-eyed at the kitchen
table and after a long silence said:
"Make mine coffee and a roll no
butter, please."
The wife looked at him quizzically.
"Aren't you going to work today?"
"Good heavens!" he exclaimed,
looking at his watch. "I thought I
was at the office already!"
Giles H. Runyou
As part of a government project,
a group of Eskimos was sent on a
tour of U.S. cities.. When one re
turned home, he proudly carried a
long piece of pipe, which he prompt
ly stuck through the roof of his
igloo.
"What's that?" asked his puzzled
wife.
"That's something I picked up on
my trip," the Eskimo said proudly.
"When you want heat, you just bang
on this pipe." Frances Benson
Supormarketeors By Bob Gustafson
Words I Was Sorely Tomptod
to Speak to a Young Callor
Yes, dear, I love your picture,
I think it's perfectly fine.
I especially like that up-and-down,
Squiggly, six-foot line.
Now why not take your crayon
And draw that whole design
For your Mommy on her fresh
painted wall,
Like you did for me on mine?
Barbara Gardner
VOLS - --, .,
L
t
V
:
IN the dark hours of my
life there were two dreams.
One was a book bearing my
name. One was a cottage with
roses around its door.
In the passage of years, the pres
sure of time, I had half-relinquished
both. In the velvet night I lay in my
alien bed and could not find the cot
tage lane, could not conjure the book.
The loss of them I reconciled in scorn
for my romanticism, rejection of a
childlike faith.
Today there is no way to put into
words the joy which is mine. Beside
me on this table are the key to my
cottage, the book filled with my
14 family Wttkly. Unitary M. IK)
thoughts. I need not be reminded
that these are tangible and not half
so great as the verities which can
neither be seen nor touched. I know
the cottage is weathered and has no
roses. I know the book is neither
bound in vellum nor inscribed in
gold. But I knew both dreams at
once from long association of hope
and yearning.
I sit in the light of my own hearth
and admire the skill of artists
who gave my hesitant words a color
and appeal they never owned. Per
haps this little house will not last
me all the days of my life. Perhaps
this little book is only a wayside
toward the road's end. Yet both are
a culmination, though I played small
part in them, and I bask, therefore,
in gratitude, not in glory.
Yet all of you who have seen
dreams come true will understand
that life does not often give pure
delight rising like a fountain from
a well seemingly dry. When it hap
pens, its sweet waters fill the heart
to overflowing.
And so I am impelled to share
this with you, not so much for my
own sake as for all of you whose
dreams are dust.
Wait a little while. Never give up.
Dreams, blessed dreams, do come
true. I know! I know!