Whoever is on TIME'S cover next week (in this case he will be TIME'S Man of the Year for 1946) can expect, in the course of the following few weeks, to receive a copy of the issue together with a polite request for his signature from one of our subscribers who has patiently assembled a collection of nearly 300 autographed TIME covers during the last six years. She is Pierrette Anne Towers, wife of Admiral John Towers, who became Commander in Chief, Pacific Fleet, and Pacific Ocean Areas in 1945.

Other readers have collected TIME'S covers of the war years as a reasonably complete and faithful portrait record of the men who waged World War II, but Mrs. Towers had a highly personal reason for doing so: many of our cover subjects were friends and associates of hers and of Admiral Towers.

Although her six-year record is necessarily incomplete--the Hitlers and Yamamotos were obviously unavailable, and the Stalins and Gandhis do not give autographs willy-nilly--Mrs. Towers reports that TIME'S cover subjects (the ones she was able to get to personally or by mail) are an extraordinarily obliging lot: none of them refused a request for his signature. Now that peace is at hand, Mrs. Towers has hopes of filling in some of the gaps. For instance: at present she is waiting for Molotov (says she: "He's very slow"). The prize of her collection, however, needs no waiting for: Admiral Towers was the subject of TIME'S cover of June 23, 1941.

In the process of collecting her intimate portrait gallery, Mrs. Towers has discovered one reason, among others, for continuing it beyond the war years. She claims that in the case of men like Generals Marshall and Eisenhower and President Truman, each of whom has made four appearances on TIME'S cover (the late Franklin D. Roosevelt was there eight times), she can see their faces change with the added responsibility and authority of their jobs. If so, TIME cover artists Boris Artzybasheff, Ernest Hamlin Baker, and Boris Chaliapin, who work from the" latest available photographs of their subjects, can take a bow.

Over the years, TIME'S 1,240 cover portraits (including 19 Men of the Year) and TIME'S cover format have been the subject of considerable collecting, reproduction and imitation. The art department of the University of Illinois mounts and catalogs all TIME covers as part of its permanent collection. A loyal son of Texas has a standing order for the artists' originals of all Texans appearing on the cover. They are hung in a Texas museum. Originally, this art buyer (an ex-cattleman) wanted to know what longevity guarantee we would give him with each painting. Artzybasheff said he would be happy to guarantee his to last for about 500 years.

Requests from scores of TIME readers who want to bombard their friends with card-sized replicas of themselves on TIME'S cover bringing holiday greetings, announcing new offspring, from school and college annuals, etc., make a real problem for us. We are highly gratified by such requests, but, the trademark laws of the U.S. being what they are, we have to refuse permission for reproductions of TIME'S format and take action against unauthorized uses of it. During last fall's election campaign, for example, an enterprising candidate for New York State assemblyman from The Bronx headlined his campaign literature with a brochure of himself on TIME'S cover, which led some voters to think that he had our endorsement. Obviously something had to be done.

Sometimes, however, we wish we could ignore the matter entirely. Last summer, an unemployed veteran, convinced that he was a natural-born advertising copywriter and unable to get a job in Chicago's ad agencies, addressed his message to 60 of their top executives via a miniature six-page replica of TIME, with himself on the cover. He didn't pose as Man of the Year, but he did get 17 replies and, within a week, the job he wanted.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.