Jon Bouman to the Bouman Family
Title
Jon Bouman to the Bouman Family
Creator
Bouman, Jon Anthony, 1873-1958
Identifier
WWP23079
Date
1919 December 5
Description
Letter from Jon Bouman to his family.
Source
Gift of William C. and Evelina Suhler
Subject
Correspondence
Paris Peace Conference (1919-1920)
Contributor
Rachel Dark
Denise Montgomery
Language
English
Requires
PROOFREADING
Provenance
Evelina Suhler is the granddaughter of Jon Anthony Bouman and inherited the family collection of his letters from the years of World War I. She and her husband gave the letters to the Woodrow Wilson Presidential Library & Museum in 2013.
Text
Friday, Dec. 5/19
My dearest,
Do not worry about that internal chill I had a fortnight ago – it has passed away and I eat anything now. For some days I was a “miserable Starkey”, and for once glad to be away from home, but after a week or so’s dieting; avoiding red meat and red wine, I got all right again.
I have not heard about that neuritis in your arm lately, does it give you trouble still?
Nothing new of course about my next movements. I am writing today to Mr. Stone in London; (he is due there tomorrow or Sunday) to make application for transfer, so that he cannot say when reaching Paris: “Oh, that should be arranged with Collins.” And we will see what happens.
Lockett Thomson and his companion were to leave again for London this morning. It looks as if they would have a rough crossing. I took them out to dinner on Sunday and we went to a café and a picture show afterwards; and Wednesday evening they dined me. Lockett had without my foreknowledge taken a seat for me at the opera, where they wanted to wind up the evening. Naïve and boundless astonishment when I explained I had to work in the evening!! How can anyone work in the evening – after dinner, too!!!! They thought I only worked “in the evening” on Saturday, and it had to be laboriously explained that I worked throughout the whole damned night; but I am sure they didn’t understand at all why there should be such abnormalities as that.
I am very pleased with Mary getting “distinction” in drawing; I shall bevery interested in seeing their work when I get home.
Today, dull and dreary; I went to the Guimet Museum. Last Friday it was the Carnavalet, which in itself is a handsome antique palace, the former home of Madame de Sevigne. The Guimet is a museum of oriental art, and I found much to interest me. Japanese prints, bronzes, ceramics, armour, &c. also Egyptian antiquities. I am very fond of mummies; they have some there known as “white mummies” – not embalmed, or given a bitumen bath, but simply dried. One of them still had excellent teeth. I am sending Mary a postcard of the museum. The other day I sent the illustrated part of the New York Times to Betty, because of that fine large photographic reproduction of the surface of the moon, thinking that would interest her, but of course the pictures were to “all-of-yez”.
What a sensational fight that was between Carpentier and Beckett; people here went crazy. Much to the delight of our colleague Topping who had put his shirt on Carpentier. I think he will not be seen for three days; which would have been so in either case; for if C. had lost, Topping would have been stone-broke, and the result would have been the same—dead to the world!
Frank Grundy discerns signs that his wife will want to go to England for next year’s holidays, and he is already worrying about “the expense”. But I have expostulated with him, on the ground that his wife naturally wants to see her husband’s country, where she has never been before. So maybe you will meet her next year.
I have just seen in a paper that Mr. Weif, one of my two companions on the trip to the front last spring, has just died in a New York hospital. He looked far from robust when we went together. He was just about my age.
The other evening I looked in at the Dutch Quartette concert, see enclosed programme. Do you remember the names of Sam Swaap and Van Isterdael at Diligentia in The Hague? There is a big artistic Dutch move on here, for I see that the famous Amsterdam Madrigal Society is going to give performances here. The Hague Quartette played very well and were generously applauded.
Today is St. Nicholas. Wonder whether the children remembered the day? Perhaps Auntie Pell has.
With all my love,
Always, thine
Jack.
Enclosures: Front and back of postcard from Musee Guimet, showing bronze Japanese temple sculptures
Enclosure: Concert program of The Hague Quartet, December 2, 1919
Enclosure: Undated newspaper clipping from unknown source, Olcott, Frances Jenkins. “Once More Told Tales And Other Stories For Story Tellers: The Furz Blossom Treasure—An Irish Folk Tale”
My dearest,
Do not worry about that internal chill I had a fortnight ago – it has passed away and I eat anything now. For some days I was a “miserable Starkey”, and for once glad to be away from home, but after a week or so’s dieting; avoiding red meat and red wine, I got all right again.
I have not heard about that neuritis in your arm lately, does it give you trouble still?
Nothing new of course about my next movements. I am writing today to Mr. Stone in London; (he is due there tomorrow or Sunday) to make application for transfer, so that he cannot say when reaching Paris: “Oh, that should be arranged with Collins.” And we will see what happens.
Lockett Thomson and his companion were to leave again for London this morning. It looks as if they would have a rough crossing. I took them out to dinner on Sunday and we went to a café and a picture show afterwards; and Wednesday evening they dined me. Lockett had without my foreknowledge taken a seat for me at the opera, where they wanted to wind up the evening. Naïve and boundless astonishment when I explained I had to work in the evening!! How can anyone work in the evening – after dinner, too!!!! They thought I only worked “in the evening” on Saturday, and it had to be laboriously explained that I worked throughout the whole damned night; but I am sure they didn’t understand at all why there should be such abnormalities as that.
I am very pleased with Mary getting “distinction” in drawing; I shall bevery interested in seeing their work when I get home.
Today, dull and dreary; I went to the Guimet Museum. Last Friday it was the Carnavalet, which in itself is a handsome antique palace, the former home of Madame de Sevigne. The Guimet is a museum of oriental art, and I found much to interest me. Japanese prints, bronzes, ceramics, armour, &c. also Egyptian antiquities. I am very fond of mummies; they have some there known as “white mummies” – not embalmed, or given a bitumen bath, but simply dried. One of them still had excellent teeth. I am sending Mary a postcard of the museum. The other day I sent the illustrated part of the New York Times to Betty, because of that fine large photographic reproduction of the surface of the moon, thinking that would interest her, but of course the pictures were to “all-of-yez”.
What a sensational fight that was between Carpentier and Beckett; people here went crazy. Much to the delight of our colleague Topping who had put his shirt on Carpentier. I think he will not be seen for three days; which would have been so in either case; for if C. had lost, Topping would have been stone-broke, and the result would have been the same—dead to the world!
Frank Grundy discerns signs that his wife will want to go to England for next year’s holidays, and he is already worrying about “the expense”. But I have expostulated with him, on the ground that his wife naturally wants to see her husband’s country, where she has never been before. So maybe you will meet her next year.
I have just seen in a paper that Mr. Weif, one of my two companions on the trip to the front last spring, has just died in a New York hospital. He looked far from robust when we went together. He was just about my age.
The other evening I looked in at the Dutch Quartette concert, see enclosed programme. Do you remember the names of Sam Swaap and Van Isterdael at Diligentia in The Hague? There is a big artistic Dutch move on here, for I see that the famous Amsterdam Madrigal Society is going to give performances here. The Hague Quartette played very well and were generously applauded.
Today is St. Nicholas. Wonder whether the children remembered the day? Perhaps Auntie Pell has.
With all my love,
Always, thine
Jack.
Enclosures: Front and back of postcard from Musee Guimet, showing bronze Japanese temple sculptures
Enclosure: Concert program of The Hague Quartet, December 2, 1919
Enclosure: Undated newspaper clipping from unknown source, Olcott, Frances Jenkins. “Once More Told Tales And Other Stories For Story Tellers: The Furz Blossom Treasure—An Irish Folk Tale”
Original Format
Letter
To
Bouman Family
Files
Collection
Citation
Bouman, Jon Anthony, 1873-1958, “Jon Bouman to the Bouman Family,” 1919 December 5, WWP23079, Jon Anthony Bouman Collection, Woodrow Wilson Presidential Library & Museum, Staunton, Virginia.