ANNE PELHAM didn’t see Tommy Brace when she first got out of the car. If she hadn’t been thinking of Tommy she probably wouldn’t have seen him at all. Quite a few people were going in and out of Markham’s, the biggest department store in Claymore, and Tommy wasn’t in uniform any more.By ALEC RACKOWE
THE comic strip industry is a mad and cockeyed business, and on the dollar scale a fabulous business. Some 70,000,000 (at least) Americans read comic strips every day, as do some five to seven million Canadians (New York estimates), plus scores of uncounted millions more in 100 other countries and colonies, in 30 languages other than English.By HAROLD DINGMAN
MOM answered the telephone. She was so tiny she had to stand on tiptoe to talk into it. Dad was so big he had to stoop way down, and put a kink in his back, and Mary Ellen—well, seeing Mary Ellen’s eighth birthday was only a week past, and she was small for her age at that, she always had to stand on a chair.By DOREEN CORPS
KALEEN hummed a tune as she prepared dinner. She was so excited she could hardly wait. Bob would probably walk in, throw out his chest, hook his thumbs in the armholes of his vest, and announce: “Mrs. Hill, you are now part owner of this Good Earth,” and she’d be thrilled to the tips of her toes.By CLAYTON HARTSOE
THERE are those who feel there is considerable justice in George Hebden Conan’s close association with nuts. This opinion is well known to Mr. Corean. If he cares, it certainly doesn’t cause much of a ruffle on the calm of his 88 years of living.By SCOTT YOUNG
THREE MILES out of Atikokan the wilderness road turns rust red. Another three miles and you suddenly emerge from virgin bushland to skirt the edge of an immense, barren, man-made saucer. A few scattered buildings at its edge look like toy houses.By ROYD E. BEAMISH
NOBODY likes Ontario’s beverage rooms. They are a nuisance to Government, a headache (be it ever so profitable) to the hotelmen who run them, a moral and social affront to temperance people, a blot on the landscape to people who do not use them, and an indignity to those who do.By MORLEY MURRAY
CANADA’S Man-Behind-The-Eight-Ball this winter of 1945 is the citizen of medium to low income who dreams of a neat house or apartment, on a decent street, with a “For Rent” sign prominently displayed in the window. Contractors, insurance companies and governments all hope to be able to do something toward making his dream come true in 1946—but in the meantime “For Rent” signs continue to be as scarce as steaks on a meatless Tuesday.By John Caulfield Smith
DROP your glasses on the sidewalk and they’ll bounce. Kick them and you may scratch their surface—but the scratch can be polished away, Wear themߞand they vanish . . . completely. We’re talking about eyeglasses. Not spectacles, of course, and actually not even glass.By Geoffrey Hewelcke
PARIS (by Wireless)—One of England’s favorite parlor stories during the war tells of three generals who found themselves in the same compartment of a train on the London-Birmingham run. They were on furlough from the front and were bristling with brass, bombast and campaign reminiscences.By L. S. B. SHAPIRO
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