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Show ; FlcnONcawg 1 , PvV I WALTER BUTTON'S IDEA j YV?' ' By JOHN SHARDA j Walter loved his wife but wished she did not neglect herself or 11 give herself so wholly to the art for which he knew she had no talent. He found a way at last to make her understand his feelings. trouble and effort on his part but it would be worth it if it worked. He managed to choke down the breakfast, and in a matter of minutes min-utes he was in his car, and on his way to the office. Walter had found through long experience that the best time for him to think was when he was driving driv-ing along by himself. Long before be reached a parking place his plan had taken form. He would have a talk with Emma. A long, heart-to- j heart talk. He would be tactful, but firm. He'd tell her that she must improve her cooking and her appearance ap-pearance or else. (Just what "else" meant, Walter didn't quite know himself). But and here's where the brilliance of his plan was evident first he must prepare for the talk with Emma. In the past, Emma had always countered with , a long list of his faults whenever he mentioned one of hers. As a result, re-sult, Walter got nowhere with his line of attack. "This time," he prom- j ised himself, "if s going to be dif- I ferent." "I'll keep a list of all the poor meals she cooks. And I'll mark down each time she forgets to do her hair or wash her face. Then I'H have some concrete evidence to show her when I get ready. But "Y" for a brisk workout or swim. Color came back to his cheeks and there was a new spring in his step. In the evenings he cut down the time he spent in reading detective stories. He made it a point to ask Emma if there was anything around the house that needed repairing. If there was, he fixed it quickly and efficiently. Before he retired for the night he laid out his clothing for the next day, selecting his apparel with unusual care. At the office he worked conscientiously and took pains to turn out more than was expected. His boss soon took notice of this and hinted that Walter could soon look forward to a "nice little raise." One Sunday morning Walter woke up with the satisfying realization that he had, indeed, transformed himself into a "new man." He arose and dressed rapidly, but with care. He displayed pardonable pride as he looked at himself in the mirror. Today would be the day. He'd have that talk with Emma. She'd have nothing to say. No excuses. She wouldn't be able to find a thing wrong with him in return. He busied bus-ied himself in the living room while Emma prepared breakfast. While he tidied his desk and bookcase, he thought of what he would say. When his wife called "Breakfast, Walter," he felt that his speech was all prepared. He politely pulled out her chair at the table. Then he sat dowH himself. I'll wait, he thought, until we're almost through with the meal. It took Walter only a few mouth-fuls mouth-fuls to realize that this was quite a breakfast. Golden brown waffles, tight and fluffy with plenty of maple syrup. The chilled orange juice was served m a sparkling clean glass. Delicious sausage patties were also on his plate. And that toast! Done to a delicate brown. What sort of magic was this? He glanced at Emma, then baek at the tastefully prepared food and back to Emma again. Her hair was gracefully arranged. Her face was immaculately clean and just the right amount of make-up brought out the natural beauty that Walter had almost forgotten was there. She was wearing a neat housedress and she appeared decidedly slimmer. slim-mer. He finished breakfast in silence. He was wide eyed with amazement. Forgotten was his speech, his "heart-to-heart" talk. After only one cup of coffee, he went hastily upstairs to the bedroom. bed-room. He must have time to think. What had caused this change in Emma? It must have been gradual. He sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the walls. Something was missing. For an instant he couldn't figure it out. Then he knew. The paintings. They were gone. And there was no trace of the brushes or the easel. Not even a paint can. He couldn't stand it any longer. Down the stairs he raced. Emma was in the kitchen, washing dishes. "Emma," he said. "I must talk with you." She looked up and smiled. "What Is it, Walter?" He gulped and blurted ut "I've got a confession to make Emma." And he told her. The whole story. When he was done, his wife was silent for a long minute. Then she spoke. "Walter, dear, when you started to make yourself over a few weeks ago, I began to take stock of myself. my-self. And I decided that there were many things that should be changed for the bettet. It hasn't been easy but I've enjoyed every minute of it, especially when I realized you weren't noticing because you were so intent on yourself." Walter groped for a chair and sat down heavily. He was still in a pleasant state of bewilderment. "Oh, Walter," said Emma, "one thing more. I've given up my hobby hob-by of oil painting. I'd like to do some reading. Could you recommend recom-mend a good detective story for me?" r i i W ALTER BUTTON put the last spoonful of plum pudding into his mouth and swallowed slowly. Under the edge of his plate he :' tucked a generous tip and pushed his chair back from the table. Care- i fully he put on his coat and hat j and sauntered to the cashier's coun- I ter. He paid his check and casually selected a good cigar from the wide I assortment of boxes. After pausing to light it he strolled out of the I restaurant. Outside, he made his 1 way quickly to his battered, pre war coupe. On the way home he reflected about the meal he had just finished. Emma, his wife, wouldn't approve of such extravagance. But it had been worth it. He hadn't known that food could be so good. That steak had been broiled until It was medi-I medi-I um well done, the way he liked it. i The snowy white mashed potatoes I topped with a delicious, rich gravy i tasted even better than it had I looked. And such service! j Business had kept him in town 1 several hours past his usual quit- ting time. He had phoned Emma i to say that he would be late and would grab a bite to eat on the way home. He knew how she hated to go to any trouble to fix him a snack whenever he had to work late at the office. ! He turned his car into the drive that led to his small, unpretentious 1 home. As he locked the garage he notioed a bright light upstairs in the bedroom. Walter shrugged his shoulders, shoul-ders, disgustedly. She's painting again," he said, half out loud. "Why doesn't she have a good hobby, like reading detective stories?" He was an avid reader of such literature himself. Emma had taken up oil painting almost a year ago, much to Walter's contempt. She considered consid-ered herself quite talented and dozens doz-ens of hideous pictures were dis-j dis-j played throughout the house. More I, than half of the bedroom had been converted into her "studio," as Era- ma fondly called it. Most of the time it was cluttered with half fin-j fin-j ished paintings, easels, brushes and i cans of paint. Walter entered the house and went J upstairs. It would be best to let her know immediately that he was j home. j Emma's harsh, unpleasant voice greeted him before he was in the room. "Haven't got anything for you to eat." She was busily daub- ! Ing away at a canvas, her hair rumpled and her face smudged. "That's all right, Emma," re- j plied Walter. "I stopped in at the , Regal restaurant after work." "What! The Regal restaurant!" I cried Emma. "Walter Button, you ; know good and well we can't af ford such fancy places!" "It was a very good meal, Em- ma," answered Walter, his voice meek and low. ' "I don't doubt It one little bit," I his wife said with as much sarcasm in her tone as possible. "For the kind of prices they charge the food should be fit for a king." She turned back to her work with a grimace. Walter stepped over a little closer so he could see what she was paint-, paint-, Ing. He studied it intently for sev eral seconds. Then his face lit up. "That's a picture of a rainbow, isn't I It?" ("Rainbow!" Emma shrieked. "That just shows how much you i know about art." Walter shifted his feet uneasily. "Well, what is it, if ifs not a rainbow?" he cautiously inquired. "It's aa abstract painting," said i Emma, "though of course you pi wouldn't understand that. It repre-l.i repre-l.i cents a slice of bacon frying in a j- pan." Walter looked at the picture again and muttered something under un-der his breath. "What did you say?" J asked Emma, suspiciously. lj "I just said I think I'll go down- J stairs and read awhile," said Wal- ter. I His wife sniffed eontemptuously. J, "Those silly detective stories!" -; Walter gave no indication that he heard her last statement. He went downstairs and picked out a magazine maga-zine from the supply on his desk. With a sigh of contentment he set- f tied down in his comfortable, if old, Morris chair. This is the kind of 1 recreation a person should have, he told himself. It was long past midnight when he finally layed K down his reading and went to bed. I The great idea came to Walter at breakfast the next morning. He had come down ravenously hungry. . Gloomily, Walter looked at his plate. The bacon was only half done. The eggs, however, were fried so , hard that they were crisp. The j, toast, too, was burned and the or- ange juice had been poured into an V unwashed glass that had contained i milk the night before. J "There must be some way to get Emma to improve her cooking," he pondered. "And I wish she'd watch her looks more." Emma often f lounged around the house with her hair unkempt and her face soiled from household chores. She was also getting stout. He vividly remembered re-membered the few occasions when ) he had dared to criticize Emma's 7 ways of doing things. j Suddenly he knew what he would j do. It would take quite a bit of She looked up and smiled. "What Is it, Walter?" before I start on this list, I'm going to concentrate on improving myself so she won't have any comeback." He was talking aloud to himself in the solitude of his car. The hours dragged by at the office of-fice at a pace which seemed much slower than usual. Walter could hardly wait to get home and put his scheme into operation. At lunch time he hurried out and bought himself him-self the new necktie that he had admired in a window display. All afternoon his mind spun with excitement. excite-ment. He'd show Emma! "TPHE next two weeks were busy ones for Walter. In fact, he was so busy that he almost forgot Emma's Em-ma's cooking and her appearance. Each morning he arose a full hour earlier than bad been his custom so that he would have time to shave more carefully, comb his hair with great exactness and shine his shoes until they gleamed. During the day he practiced good posture, walking and sitting with his chest out, stomach stom-ach in and back straight. Each day after work he would stop in at the |