PAGE TWO Mb# <Pailg Jtemrd IKijki DUNN, N. C. iHfl# Published By W NMfcr' RECORD PUBLISHING OOMPANT * [_ At 311 East Canary Street • NATIONAL ADVERTISING REPRESENTATIVE | THOMAS F. CLARK CO., INC. ; **s-217 E. 42nd St, New York 17. N. Y. Breach Office* In Every Major City I"' v SUBSCRIPTION RATES v BY CARRIER: 2* cents per week; $8.50 per year In advance; $5 for six months; S 3 for three months IN TOWNS NOT SERVED BY CARRIER AND ON RURAL ROUTES INSIDE NORTH CAROLINA: $6.00 per year; $3.50 for six months; $2 for three months OUT-OF-STATE: $8.50 per year in advance; $5 for six months. $3 for three months Entered as second-class matter in the Post Office in Dunn, N. C., under the laws of Congress, Act of March 3, 1879. Every afternoon, Monday through Friday Waste Creates Corruption -- Defenders of the proposed Federal budget frequently r challenge critics to point out specific places where sub - stantial cuts can be made without weakening essential : government activities. And sometimes they get away ; with this challenge, for the reason that the budget is . so complex that the average man can hardly make head or tail of it. Luckily, however, there are experts who can read and analyze even an $85,000,000,000 budget, and find out where money would be needlessly squandered. One such - expert is Senator Byrd, who has specialized in fiscal "matters during his whole public career. The Senator has 'submitted a detailed, step-by-step trimming program - which would reduce the budget as a whole by the huge I sum of $8,600,000,000. Other individuals and organiza tions have also presented detailed analyses showing where the budget can be reduced by comparable amounts - —without eliminating or in any way weakening “neces sary” government undertakings and policies. ■ These cuts take various forms. Some are simply de signed' to rid the government of routine administrative wa£,e, resulting from duplication of effort, inefficient purchasing methods, excesses of red-tape, and so on. Others go farther and would prevent the government from spending our tax money on jobs that should and can be done by private enterprise. These last would do more than just save money, important as that is—they would be a barrier to the blight of state socialism that has grown like a fungus over the past 20 years. A wasteful government inevitably becomes a corrupt government—as recent sordid revelations of scandals and graft in high places hae proved. And a corrupt gov ernment can destroy a nation. All the signs indicate that the American people are awakening to that fact at last. We Need These Taxpayers There is one little matter the drum-beaters for social ized electric service always try to sidestep. It’s what happens when taxpaying enterprise is supplanted by tax-free, tax-eating enterprise. As a good example, take a California power and light company, Pacific Gas & Electric Co. This concern pays $2 in taxes every time the clock ticks. Last year, its total taxes were close to $66,000,000, which works out to something more than SIBO,OOO for every day of the year T3xes are the company’s largest single item of operat ing-expense. In 1951, they exceeded by over $14,000,000 the-payroll for all employes save those engaged in con struction. And they exceeded by more than $25,000,000 the total paid in dividends to the 188,463 people who -own the company. I utility pays property taxes in 48 of the state’s 58 counties. And tn several of the counties it pays over -50" per cent of the total taxes collected —that is, more than all the other taxpayers combined. • All over the United States power companies, regard less of their size, are among the largest and most de pendable taxpayers. On the average, substantially more -than 20 per cent of all the money these utilities take in Igoes out for taxes. Every time they improve and expand •their facilities new taxable assets are created—and every lunit of government, -from the village to Washington, ;D. C., benefits financially. - Contrast this with socialism, which levies heavier and "heavier taxes on the people—and destroys our liberties with our money! Frederick OTHMAN WASHINGTON. Old friend of mine in Pittsburgh has a son I hadn't seen since he was wearing socks and Buster Brown suits. So •the son married the most beautiful girl In the world and headed for Washington on his honeymoon. He and bride never saw such a place. There were so many people they hardly even got a glance at the cherry blossoms. So they star red looking for a room. None to be •had. They phoned me and I was ]out somewhere listening to law givers yammer. Next they called the lobbyist here for a steel company; used to know him in Pittsburgh. He was an in fluential fellow for sure’. He got 'em into our biggest hotel for the night. The clerk said there'd prob ably be a cancellation the following day and not to worry. They took a sightseeing tour, after some trouble finding tickets for that. Got back to the hotel and the man said he was sorry but they'd have to move. Too many reservations for the same bed. All the qtßer hotels also were as crowd ed as., concentration camps. : The steel man wished he could take him in at his house, but he jUready was full qp wjth ' impS couldn't rent •'rooms. I wishes Jttp. but saw 'guest room also was Mlftto. ; 9?h# IMmaynyooners regret ifpUy shoved igf for ihe ,Wesi. Some ■ all iw days hspej our', town fwr'j'iriir ** en: f dmmed - with fjttfatfs. The sightseeing buses park Biglouhfe lines on Capitol HUI. at •f f the Washington Monument, and at I Mt. Vernon. The Federal buildings r are clogged with callers suffering ? from the peculiar tenderness that 1 comes to feet tramping on marble r floors. Even ti.<- Oeuators. who only a 1 few weeks back were orating be ! fore nearly empty galleries, now t have S. R. O. audiences. Most of • our restaurants have lines of the : hungry waiting for seats. ; The hardships for a tourist with ■ out iron-clad reservations are con siderable. but I must report that : a visit here now is worth the effort. r I don’t believe Washington ever ' has been so beautiful. ; Flowers all over the place, in ■ eluding those late-growing, orange ■ colored tulips the Dutch sent over ! to cheer up their Queen. The landscape artists who went to work • at the White House after the build • ers got through with their $6,000,000 1 remodeling job were bell ringers fp~ - sure. The turf looks like it had been ' there a century; you'd never guess I that the mighty boxwood bushes ( around the front were installed oniy ( a couple of weeks ago. The place , I is so doggoned magnificent it hard : ly looks real: squint your eyes a ( \ little and you’d think you were , > looking at a picture postcard. ■ i All this . salubrious atmosphere , I guesss is impressive largely he \ ,cjuse til .is >so brief. In another i > eaujke of weeks dbr town gets hot .and stays that way. MBdeW comes i on the shoes in the’ eloiets and J anybody ta my business who writes ’ a piece about frying ap egg on < Pennsylvania Avenue gets a pljin- I These Days CROSBY ON THE FBI Men do get excited on these tele vision panel programs ami say , more than they planned to. So it seems that John Crosby, the radio and television expert of the New York Herald Tribune, got all ex cited on the "Author Meets the Critics” program, which these days booms with controversial inepti tudes. His desire was to denounce his opponent. Ted Kirkpatrick of ■'Counterattack” and "Red Chan nels.” which is anyone’s privilege. Instead Crosby walloped the FBI. to which service Kirkpatrick once belonged. Crosby has since apol ogized for so heated and careless a remark as this: "Everybody was in the FBI dur ing the war. It was away of get ting out of the army. We have copy boys on our paper who were in the FBI during the war.” On September 6, 1939, to the FBl's duties in the criminal field was added the responsibility of guarding the internal security of the nation. This required a rapid build-up of its forces, which could not be done with a lowering of qualifications, as that would defeat itself. No man could serve in the FBI who had not been especially train ed. Once appointed, the new agents were sent to the FBI Academy, located on the Marine base at Quantico, Virginia. Here they were given an intensive course of in structions. Classes were from nine in the morning until nine at night. Already qualified as lawyers or ac countants or college graduates with specialized skills, they were train ed as expert investigators and they qualified as experts in firearms— the Thompson sub-machine gun. the rifle, the shotgun and the pistol. A daily class in athletics training kept them in trim. When war came, these men were engaged in tasks which were an essential part of any war, namely, guarding against espionage, sabo tage, subversion. They were de ferred from the armed services be cause they were actually doing war work. General Lewis B. Hershey, director of the selective service sys tem. issued this memorandum on the subject: 'The Federal Bureau of investi gation is charged with the respon sibility of investigating all viola tions of Federal statutes, and has further been charged with respon sibility in matters pertaining to the national defense, including espionage, sabotage, and subver sion. As a part of its duty the bureau receives and maintains ex tensive fingerprint records. In the present national emergency’ the du ties of the Federal Bureau of In vestigation will become more ex tensive and will assume an in creasing importance. It is consid ered essential to the national health, safety, and Interest, and to the national defense that the functions of the Federal Bureau of Investigation should not be im paired by the removal of trained personnel from critical positions with the bureau.” Even to intimate that these men were draft-dodgers, slackers, or anything of the sort, is stupid non sense and represents the kind of wild thinking so characteristic of all ad hominem arguments. In fact, FBI men were regarded as so im portant in their work that they were required to give up any re serve commissions they held. In March, 1952, the Secretary of War issued this order: "In view of the fact that your civilian employment in the Fed eral Bureau of Investigation, Unit ed States Department of Justice, is of such a vital nature to the na tional defense as to necessitate your remaining at your post of duty, despite the fact that you hold a reserve commission in the United States Army, I request that you submit, through proper channels, your resignation from yoUr com mission. “I am making this request be-* cause of my knowledge that the services being rendered by you to your government in your present employment are of great value to the war effort. The personal risks, the hazards and the sacrifices which you are called upon to make in your daily service in the Federal Bureau of Investigations are in no manner or degree inferior to those you might be called upon to make in the armed services.” A similar order was issued by the Navy. John Crosby may not like Ted Kirkpatrick because of “Counter attack” and “Red Channels,” but to attack the FBl’s war record, in the year 1952, is a dangerous sup port of men and women whom no American should regard as friends. The FBI kept this country free of Hitler's agents during the war: the FBI can do the same in rela tion to Stalin's agents. If you want to know how they do it. see the motion pictures, “My Son John” and “Walk East On Beacon” when they appear in your neighborhood. tive call from the Board of Trade A female author of my acquain tance wrote last year that Wash ington wae summer resort This wa£ a 'fraud. It isn’t. Fact is even now my wool suit is beginning to feel sticky, THE DAILY RECORD. DUNN. If. C. MISTER BREGER •ryes, sir! What we breed in this club are CHAMPIONS!” k Cfte WASHINGTON diiMERRY-GO-ROUND tf OtlW MAtSOW DEAR DAUGHTER I have been sitting in my hotel room looking down at the park next to the Champs Elysees, watching French children play and thinking of the many times when I have been in Paris before. The children are swinging oh swings, riding on a merry-go-round, roller-skating, or sitting on bored and dejected donkeys which walk the length of the park and back for 10 francs per promenade. It reminds me of the time when you and Tyler were very small and we visited Paris. And it also re minds me of other trips when I was a lot younger and more opti mistic about the peace of the world. The first time I came to Paris wqg after a great war had been fought which we thought was to free the world, when Woodrow Wil son's virbrant doctrine still rang in people's ears and they were con vinced that peace could be with us permanently. The next time I came to Paris was in 1927, en route to the Geneva Naval Conference which was to carry out the disarmament goals of that peace. Your mother was with me then and we left you behind— so small you didn’t recognize me when I returned. But at Geneva. Bethlehem Steel, Newport News Ship and other shipbuilding com panies had hired a lobbyist to upset the treaty—because they wanted to build warships. And because the French, Italians and Japanese were also not enthusiastic, he succeeded The next year I came back to Paris with Frank B, Kellogg, who, as Secretary of State, had nego tiated a treaty to outlaw war. I watched the ceremony of the sign ing of the Kellogg-Briand Pact and - got a great thrill—as did much of the world—over the idea that at long last it was now illegal to make war. SEEDS OF WAR PLANTED , My next trip to Paris was during the London Naval Conference in i 1930—an attempt by a most high minded Secretary of State. Henry ■ L. Stimson, to curtail the weapons i of war. But he was not even able to persuade his isolationist chief in j the White House—Herbert Hoover —that we should consult with j other nations in case war threat- j ened. That conference was a tragic | failure. And with that failure it ■, seemed to me that the world started i downhill again—toward war. War ] does not start easily or quickly, i The seeds are planted long in ad- i vance. They do not sprout suddenly l —as when Hitler invaded Poland in j 1939. They had been planted per- : haps eight or nine years before that invasion. And by the next time I came to Paris they had 1 definitely begun to sprout. t That was Christmas of 1936. You ! were with me then. But you didn’t , CUTIES / \ Axil / fnEljH! jp , II j iilli-lillK j . jjj j 11UH; j imi l § Wi I j limMmMSKmmmMSKHam ill ' !§§ m) % hold me in’your 5 arnis, j of my nail polish, my lipstick, rty penirahent—«nd, ohi , . : v yes, Kiki aiid FUi/.’ . - know, any more than the children playing in the park below my hotel window today know, that the seeds of war were already planted. A sure and certain sign that they were planted had come in March 1936, when Hitler’s troops marched into the Ruhr and Rhine land. With that vital source of iron and steel. Hitler had the tools of war in his hands, and it was only a matter of time before hostilities started. Actually the seeds of war had sprouted well before this. They had been nurtured in the soil of de pression, bank failures, unemploy ment, hopelessness. The seeds were really planted when American in vestors stopped buying European bonds, thereby ending the American subsidy which kept Europe pros perous under Harding and Cpolidge and which—though paid in a dif ferent form through the Marshall Plan—also has kept Europe pros perous under Truman. When people lose hope they turn to war. And the great depression from 1932 to 1939 had made Europe lose hope. MILESTONES TO PEACE It seems that most of my trips to Paris have been connected some how or other with milestones on the road to or from peace. My next trip was for the Paris Peacfc Con ference in 1946, when Americans generally had great hope for peace —though Europe was skeptical. That was when Jimmie Byrnes gradually saw hope fade—dashed on the rock of Russian recalcitrance. That was also When Europe again began to lose hope. And when I visited Paris one year later with the Friendship Train. Europe was starving, ships were tied up by mutinous steve dores, railroads were on strike communism was on the March, and I have never seen Paris so woeful and discouraged. The Marshall Plan came after that and, despite some of its faults, it wrought miracles. Its drive in the right direction is being con tinued by Eisenhower and the North Atlantic Pact. As a result, there is a note of hope today in Paris. But, underneath that hope, there is danger. Eisenhower’s departure is one danger. Inflation and soaring prices are another Resentment a gainst America for forcing rearm ament is another. Reversing the disarmament policies of Frank Kellogg and Henry L. Stimson, we now tell Europe their only hope is to rearm. Naturally, people don’t take this reversal happily—espec ially when it means higher taxes and higher prices. WORLD HANGS IN BALANCE But the greatest danger in Europe today is the intense, ex tremely skillful propaganda of Soviet Russia against the North Atlantic Army—especially against Walter Winehell York *■*=“ BROADWAY HEARTBEAT Celebs About Town: The XI. S. Senator Brewsters (of Maine) in the Stork Club, enchanted by the star-studded scene. . . . Scott Brady and Dorothy Malone of Hollywood among the iiandholuers at the 400. . . . Elliott Roosevelt’s lovely com panion over the holidays his grownup daughter from Texas. . . . Arleen Whalen’s sunset hair and emcrald-hued gown. . . . Frank Costello, more concerned over the newspapers listing his age at 61 in stead of 57. . . . Critic George Jean Nathan and actress Julie Haydon feasting on peeled furters. . . . Bet ty and Jane Kean, the Copa come diennes, shop-talking on the 54th and 6th corner. . . . Gloria Swan son, in "The Grass Harp” audi ence, stealing the show from the cast. . . . Martha Wright of “South Pacific,” being adored by the crew on the U. S. S. Wasp. . . . Frank Sinatra, pacing the Central Park South pavement, waiting for Ava to show up. Sallies in Our Alley: Tallulah Bankhead tuned in on “The Con tinental” for the first time the other night. . . . When he looked straight into the camera and purr ed: "Don’t be afraid. Eeet ees only a man’s .apartment,” Tallulah bari toned back: 'Tm simply petrified!” . . . Marlene Dietrich c&nsiders it one of her pet compliments. As she walked into a Hollywood studio commissary, a wag said: "Gee, I wish I had a grandmother like that!” Midtown Vignette: The Robert Ruarks (of the Colyuming Set) have some house pets. One is a standard poodle .... When they came home from a play they found utter cha os. .. . The dogs had practically wrecked the redecorated penthouse. . . . The Ruarks got slightly hys terical from laughter, however, when they saw Mamselle, the poo dle, sitting in the middle of the ruins—with a long-stemmed Amer- ; ican Beauty in her teeth. . . . They now call her Carmen. Memos of a Midnighter: NBC paid Judy Holliday $17,500 to date but hasn’t used her once this sea- : son on “The Big Show.” The net work fears casting her, despite the fact that Cong. Comm, recently cleared her. . . . Garbo has a ren dezvous at Johns Hopkins for sur gery. . . . That fight Barlon Bran do was in (with 3 French sailors at a Paris bistrop) may cost him $3,000 for wreckage . . . Sharman ■ Douglas and Nick Bjorn have Let It Cool. . . . Maxine Moore, for mer show girl, and her rich groom, Col. S. Sanson (victims of a $350, 000 gem robbery), may lose sheir marriage, too. ~ . Washington hears 1 that ex-Ambassador Wm. Bullitt’s 1 next will be a French socialite. . . . 1 Dick Cowell's charming decoration ‘ is Barbara Gaylord Cook, dghtr of < the Mayer of Trenton. . . . The Jack (CBS) Sterlings are letting it melt. It was their 2nd Try. ... Adman j Scott Eddy of the Soc. Register and f stylist Georgians Rake will try to $2 window in June. , Behind the Scenes: Gertrude , Lawrence unveiled this to Berna- , dine Kielty. ... It happened when I the star was playing "Susan and , God.” . . . She told producer John -] Golden that she was considering l matrimony. . . . "Rut why?” said , Mr Golden. "Why you—of all peo pie. You’re one of the most popu? < lar actresses, you’ve had a great I career, you have plenty of money ] and lots of beaux. Why marry?” i ’ : - “Because,” said Miss Lawrence t wistfully, “I want someone to < nudge.” The Orchid Garden: Jana Jones' [ 2 a. m. "Singing the Blues” session f at La Vie En Rose. . . . Rita Moss’ i 4-octave chirping at the Pomp . Room. . . . Les Freres Jacques at Blue Angel.^. . . The new Havana- j the dread idea of France and Germ- ! any marching together, unified, un- ! der the same flag. The Kremlin * sees this, as many Europeans do 3 not see it, as the first step toward J European unity. And the Kremlin l knows that European unity means < prosperity, strength, and hope. In , that kind of soil, also, the seeds \ of war do not* grow. That’s why I think the next few c months—during our elections—are l so crucial. One more push can 'put ] across the unified European army E —and, with it, European cooper&- r tion. But any number of things can r stop it—the wrong president of the t u. S. A., more harmful speeches 1 like Tom Connally’s, a sudden cur- l tailment of American budgets for 1 European defense, bickering among 1; our Allies, or the continued success t of Soviet propaganda. I That’s why I look down at the •«! French kids playing in the park and t wonder whether in 10 or 15 years r they will still be enjoying life or » marching bff to war. If they march 1 off to war, my grandsons also march off to war, and, as General Eisenhower told me the other day so will his grandsons. That’s why the next six months are so all- , important. That’s why it’s going to ’ take a lot of understanding and I patience by the American people li plus a lot of understanding and a paflence fey our AlHgs i„ gurope’ 1 to achieve the »great" gbal that t seems almost within' our grksp. g With Love From ”‘v ' t Tour Father. < ; rJB | TUESDAY AFTERNOON, APRIL 22, 1952 • I The Worry Clinic By DR. GEORGE W. CRANE Notice how I won a wager with Professor Clyde. “Earned" love can easily be developed if two reasonably attractive people of the opposite sex will just fol low the psychological rules. Love may grow so gradually, you don’t realize you are its victim until the threatened loss of your constant companion suddenly wakes you up to the real diagnosis. CASE D-326: Clyde G., aged 27, was a cynical young college pro fessor. “Dr. Crane, women are all alike;” he spoke positively. “When you’ve known one, you’ve known them all. “I never had many dates with any of them. I’ll admit, but that’s because I am more interested in figures that are Arabic instead of anatomical. “However, I’m willing to be shown. If you want me to date some eligible girl, I’ll follow' your prescription for a few months and test your theories. “If after six month's I am still fancy free, then you can take me to dinner and the theater. “But if I fall in love, then I’ll take you and Mrs. Crane to din ner and a show. What do you say?" DIAGNOSIS Os course, I said “Yes.” That’s tile kind of wager I always enjoy. Since Clyde let me do the choos ing of his girl friend, I looked a round among the students in my larg evening classes where the ages ran a little higher than on our Evanston daytime campus. Then 1* selected an attractive girl whose anatomical figure might well distract Clyde’s attention from the Arabic variety with which he deals in his profession of mathe matics. This girl, whom I shall call Pol ly, had an engaging laugh and had also memorized my “Formula for Being an Interesting Conversa tionalist.” She was really quite charming. “I wonder if you’d mind having a.\ date with a friend of mine?” I asked her after class one evening. LOVE A LA CARTE "He is somewhat cynical, but was brought up in a cultured home by a religious mother,” I added, “and he isn’t such a bad looking fellow. ®y America's Foremost Personal Affairs Counselor GIRL SUFFERS MENTAL AN GUISH AS SHE RECALLS HAV ING BLOCKED MOTHER’S ASPIRATION TO MARRY WID OWER. DEAR MARY HAWORTH: My father died when I was 7, leaving just mother and me. We managed on a small insurance, with mother working. When I was 16, mother met John, a nice widower, and w'anted to marry him, but I was very upset at the idea, as she had n’t gone out with men before. I loved her so much, and feared I would be thrown down if she married again. * Mother tried to reassure me. She said she wouldn’t have considered the idea when I was little; but now I was almost grown and would be leaving her in a few years to es tablish my ow'n home and family. She said she was thinking of me as well as herself, in contemplat ing second marriage, and certainly didn’t want to be a burden to rpe in her last years. None of this sank into my head at, the time. I threatened to leave home and school, told mother she would be sorry and never would see me again if she married John,—and many other things a jealous 16- year-old would say in like circum stances. To please me, she didn’t marry, and all our friends know why. John married another woman in a nearby city. All this was 10 years ago, and mother has aged 20 years since. Now mother is sick with an in curable disease and hasn’t long to * live; and J don’t think I can live long after she is gone. My con science hurts. I feel if she had married and been happy, she might not have taken sick. How can I tell her I am sorry, so she will love me as much as she used to? And should i ■ find John and tell him of her illness? Maybe a friend ly visit from him would cheer her ; up. Or would it make her worse?. : Now I am her support, and you don’t know what I am going i through, working to pay for her medical and nursing care. Any ad vice will be greatly appreciated.— i T. K. • i DEAR T. K.:, In the circum stances, you have’ enough to bear without borrowing , anguish) frqm j Madrid revue ft!#* Lao and La . MlnerVjt . . . The., way Trudy Rich- l graSSr. ; ton’s hell-raising at at Case Society ItyWJ*- 1 Hardaway*/ ftiij(fe- * “I should like to have you keep him at arm’s length but turn on all your oomph and applied psycholo gy,” I added with a smile. Polly knew what I meant, for I(J had discussed “earned” love vei sus love at first sight, in a lecture in Social Psychology the previous term. Well, that was the start. After the first date, I saw Clyde on the campus and inquired how he liked my choice. “Not bad,” was his noncommit tal response. But I hadn't given Polly an “A” grade in my psychology courses without realizing that she knew/T. how to apply what I had taught her. And she relished the experiment. They went to the opera and to the movies. They went on hikes and picnics. “EARNED” LOVE She made him take her to church, despite his exaggerated groaning, meanwhile kidding him into good humor. Polly knew the art of using the bantering tone of voice which peryq mits a girl to say very serious 1 things without fully committing herself. For her banter keeps a man guessing, Clyde finally took her home for a weekend visit during one of the holidays. She met his mother and father, as well as other relatives. Then she gave him the acid test! Regretfully she turned down a few dates with Clyde, explaining mean while that she had promised ano ther man she would be his partner at the Senior Prom and some oth-V' er college functions, ' which was true. Clyde had begun to lean upon Polly for his enjoyment and com panionship. When the emotional crutch was no longer there, he grew panicky. Suppose another man should steal her aw'ay from him! He was in torment, •so he bought an en gagement ring. Polly got the ring and they took Mrs. Crahe and me to dinner and the theater to cele-v brate. (Always write to Dr. Crane in care of this newspaper, enclosing a long 3c stamped, addressed en velope and a dime to cover typing and printing costs when you send send for one of his psychological charts.) the past, in the form of pointless remorse about an adolescent dis play of blind selfishness. Had you known better at the time of blocks ing your mother’s disposition t<r marry John, you would have done better, of course. The sacs that you enforced your will on her wasn’t entirely your fault. The framework of your rear ing, as a half-orphaned only child, also the pitch of your mother’s character —soft and indecisive, I gather—had much to do with shap ing your proprietary feelings in relation to her. You were condi tioned to cling to her as your “one© * and-only,” somewhat as she had clung to you, as the sole consola tion of h,er existence, in her first years of widowhood. Unconsciously, without meaning to, or without considering eventual results, she had influenced you to lean ' heavily on her society and solicitude for a sense of well be ing. Thus you continued unduly childish, when more self-reliance was in ojder, en route to woman-- hood. In a sense, your mother wa“ the architect of your panic at the prospect of "losing” her to a step father, in a relationship that you couldn’t really share. TALK FRANKLY WITH MOTHER Doubtless you would have been pretty much of an outsider to their reciprocal devotion, had they made a good marriage. But if you had been a hardy 16, emotionally .abreast of your years, absorbed i©> suitable social interests—instead or beirig a mama’s girl—you would have tolerated the alliance, possibly with the adventurous hope that it would bring you certain advan tages. However, may I also add, as honest salve to your tortured con science, that most teen-agers are disturbed by the thought of par ental remarriage, or any major shift in their security arrange ments. # So your behavior, though more extreme, was in line witMg average adoleicent tension. v Sit down with your mother and talk insistently about your regret, since it is on your mind. Don’t let her silence you; tell her she must listen and forgive. Say that you want her to. understand that you acted in ignorance, without a woman’s knowledge (then) of Jier position in - the matter; and now your heart aches to make amends. Ask if she would receive John for a friendly call, because you’d likrv to apologize to hjfo too, and lean?" chanced t S °‘’h ™ a

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