Life — May 3, 1928 — page 23: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

With Apologiesta TRUE STORY MAGAZINE She was about to be mar- ried and then....Read this enthralling story of a girl’s love life with three men and what followed. Endorsed by thinking clergymen. He stood there feast- ing his eyes upon my youth and beauty. “Go out of my life, Ralph,” I screamed, swallowing my pride. Is Companionate Love Immoral? I WAS an innocent country girl when it all began. But alas, it was not fated to endure. My father, a fashionable poultry farmer, had pledged my hand in marriage to the hired man in lieu, as I afterwards discovered, of fifty cents in back wages. He was a veritable beast who hungered after my body. My face went scarlet at the mere thought of it all. I hated him and his country ways. ‘0 I left home and sought success among the bright lights of New York. Soon I became head buyer for a large department store. Then I met Ralph and my troubles began. He was a traveling salesman, a drummer, with a face like a Greek God. He offered me love — and companionship. And I, poor butterfly that I was, how was I to know he had a wife and seven children in Rochester? He told me I was his and once while we were seated He spoke tenderly into my shell-like ear, whispering words of love. I drank in every syllable. He breathed my name. Then he exhaled it. Our lips met cle- gantly in a refined kiss. I was lifted to the heights. Hap- piness came to me on the wings of the morning. I had loved as only a woman can. The afternoon sped by on golden wings. Then my babe was born, and Ralph vanished into thin air. I was disconsolate but soon dried my tears and sought solace in my work. During this time I had become part owner of the depart- ment store in which I worked and found many matters to occupy my attention. I put on a mask of gaicty and was much sought after for parties among the society folks of New York. They were real kind to me and often asked, “Mary Doolan, why don’t you marry and settle down?" But I laughed at their solicitude and refused many a tch of the season” while they marvelled at my cynical indifference. HEN Jim, good kind] m Barston, swam into my ken (he used the Aust n crawl stroke—and how!) and the ashes of love w kindled by cle. He was an itinerant fruit dealer in an exclusive neighborhood and had money to burn. Our regard for each other was mutual, but on our wedding day the Heavens fell. I had gone for a walk in the moonlight and there block- ing my path was—Ralph. He had come back and stood there feasting his eyes upon my youth and beauty. “Go out of my life, Ralph,” I screamed, swallowing my pride. But he did not go. And then Jim came up. ND now I have Jim no longer, or Ralph either. For he as killed in a drunken brawl a short time afterward, and I have only my babe and my memories. Why do I write this, I wonder? Well, perhaps some young girl will read it and profit and so my life will not have been in vain. I hope so, any And so my message to you girls is this: when your parents start bossing you and crabbing about your habits, tell them where to get off. If they get too fresh, walk out on them. Because even if the Primrose Path isn’t everything that it’s cracked up to be, home life in America isn’t so hot, either. But now my babe is calling for his gruel and I must go. I live for him alone. comicbooks.com