Sunday morning Frank and I went to church at the Madeleine, an old church in the center of Paris. The service was very like the American Catholic services. Inside the old place is as interesting as out. Over the altar is a fine strip of mosaic, and above that a mural painting. Ancient chandeliers fang from the vaulted roof clear down to within a few inches of the heads of the congregation. It has noble Ionic and Doric columns that will last hundreds of years more, and a marble floor. The building is like a Greek temple from the outside: there is a frieze over the front; the roof is supported by countless columns, and all around the outside of the buildings are the niches containing statues of saints.
Church was out at noon, and Frank had an appointment for dinner, so he left. The Madelaine is only a block from the Place de la Concorde – a big open plaza about a half mile wide. I left Frank on the corner and stood wondering where to have dinner. Suddenly I saw someone in the distance running my way. He wore my kind of a uniform and as he came nearer I saw it was Jack Wagner. The eagle eye of hunger had descried me from way across the Place and Jack came bounding towards a life saver. For he was in his usual condition, that is he had spent it all. Now he is one man who can share anything I have, and he knows it. So we went and had dinner; then we separated. I came back home and went to movies, which were mostly American with French titles.
Next post July 31
Letters from Sidney Friend During The Great War 