Jon Bouman to the Bouman Family

Jon Bouman to the Bouman Family

Bouman, Jon Anthony, 1873-1958

WWP23061

1919 August 26

Letter from Jon Bouman to his family.

Gift of William C. and Evelina Suhler

Correspondence

Paris Peace Conference (1919-1920)

Rachel Dark

Denise Montgomery

English

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.

Paris, August 26th, 1919

My dears—

Now I must tell you how I went to see Robinson last Friday. Not Peter Robinson, nor Jack Robinson. It is a little village about forty minutes by train from Paris. First you have to climb a steep hill and then you find in a wood of very old chestnut trees a lot of nice little restaurants with verandahs and balconies and gardens &c. And that is Robinson. They are all called that; one is the ‘old Robinson” another the real R; a third the original R; but the genuine one is the old real original R, established 1848, which has a huge statue of Robinson Crusoe carved in wood, with his gun and his dog. There is a most lovely view from the top of that hill, something like from the Flagstaff, Hampstead, but still bigger. Then I went on and went into a wild wood called the Forrest of Verrieres. Of course I had a map in my pocket or else I would never have found the way. I went along a rough forest track where the trees met overhead, which made it lovely and cool as it was burning hot. I never saw so many blackberries on both sides of the track bushes of them so I picked some as I went along. And then I came all of a sudden upon a kaboutertje; a tiny little man with long grey curls falling over his shoulders, and a wavy grey beard, and he smiled at me with his little beady black eyes and I smiled back in return. Fortunately he didn’t offer to shake hands, for he was rather a dirty little kaboutertje. He was a herb picker, and carried a bag on his back full of herbs; heather bunches were sticking out of it at the back. Then through a footpath that one could hardly see for grass and weeds I came to a small village called Bievres and I had lunch at the Hotel of the Golden Chariot where they had home made potted goose with truffles in it which was a dream! I tell you.

  Then last Sunday I saw a swimming race in the Seine; I live at a hotel you know which is on the embankment, as all I had to do was to stand on the nearest bridge and look over so I could see them all swimming along. There were nearly 30 competitors eight of them ladies, all French. The men were Italians one Spaniard, and the rest mostly French too. There was one Englishman, Billington, the world's champion, he came in just for fun, because the others were not champions. And he beat them all, of course, because he is such a good swimmer. Then afterwards there was a swimming match between twenty men and a live pig; the one who won got the pig.

  Oh I forgot to tell you about Robinson; you can have lunch or dinner in the tree tops like the dickie bydies; there are cunning little winding staircases up the big trees, which is awfully jolly and amusing. I didn't have any though because it was not yet lunch time when I passed through. So you see, I have all kinds of queer adventures.

  When is that picture in the bath coming? With many hugs and don't forget to hug mother hard for me -- altogether! hugg! like that;

                                                           Your loving
                                                               Dad.

I sent Bill the French Rainbow
but it is not so good. I'm afraid

Letter

Bouman Family