Dearest Daddy:—

I have been having a delightful time—have seen a good many of the sights, and have been to the theater. The houses are pretty good, not crammed, but better than the average house has been in Boston for the last two years. The pit is always full. The plays are frightfully long-drawn-out, and I can’t help thinking all the time that an American audience would never endure them, but they are bright and beautifully staged, which surprised me. We went to the Battle of the Somme pictures, and enjoyed them very much, if one can use the word “enjoy” for such interesting but harrowing pictures. There was a very small house, but they were charging regular theater prices, and the pictures have been here for a long time. The opera was good, and was particularly interesting to us, for Mr. Julius Harrison, who conducted, is a friend of the Smiths. It did seem strange to me to have them sing in English, and once in a while an awful bit of Cockney would get in, such as in “Cavalleria,” the fiery Alfio, in his rage at discovering his wife’s infidelity, gave a wild leap on the stage and shrieked, “It’s strienge, it’s straeynge.” That is as near to the spelling as I can get. There was a small but appreciative audience, and again the pit was crammed full—Tommies and their girls.

Chelsea is certainly much the most pleasant part of London to live in if one is an ordinary mortal—not a title, I mean. The houses have lots of personality, and make me think of Beacon Hill all the time. It is fun to compare them with the Boston houses and see just what the Americans have copied and what they ignored. I love the plumbing here; it is so very informal—the way it is all on the outside and usually down the front of the houses. One bath to seven rooms is the average, I gather. And that one bath is usually in the end of a hallway, or in a closet.

The weather is behaving in a true London fashion—was at first foggy, as I told you, and now is absurdly warm. I have not suffered from the cold, therefore, so far, and am waiting for my trials to begin in Paris along that line. I have been so lucky this far on my trip that I suppose something awful will soon happen to me, but I can look back to these weeks of comfort and good food when I starve on the Channel ship!

You will be disappointed to know that they have not done away with the dogs here, and that there are quantities of them everywhere! There is a dear little puppy in this household, which makes me think of how you would enjoy her, if only you were here.

I have so far had no difficulty in arranging affairs, and now with Dr. Page behind me, I think I shall be in Paris soon. I have found my various letters and papers valuable, and have been impressed with the courteous efficient officers I have met. I can very well see, though, that it would be impossible to get anywhere unless one knew exactly what one wanted to do, and where one was going, and had good evidence to back up one’s statement.