Things are more or less quiet here. The even tenor of our ways strikes a bum note once in a while, but most of them are on the key. Which musical metaphor reminds me that when the Paris opera opens, I shall at least be able to hear Bohème without Alda. Also French opera sung by French artists, which ought to prove interesting. French music has never been over strong in America because it doesn’t reach its full power with German or Italian singers. But here I shall hear the real thing.
Next post September 5.
Letters from Sidney Friend During The Great War 