156. 1938:
Simcoe, Ont.    February 5, 1938

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Dear A.L.P.,

Being laid up with influenza and arthritis (the swollen finger; if it were only the fingers!), and being wise now with the mellow wisdom of my very nearly 66 years, I have read and reread your epistolary essay. Were you writing with your tongue in your cheek?

"They (R.C.B.C.) need the support of the positive suggestions you (I!!) could make about music (shades of Beethoven and Brahms!) drama, technical handling, etc -"

Was it you who wrote to Gladstone Murray? About me, I mean? Please, for once in 15 years, answer this question, will you? I have a reason for asking it. Others tell me "Don't try to do anything with the C.B.C."

No. "The [?]" wont escape. Was it poetry, though? Now, don't get huffy. I mean that as a question: not: "Numerat Poesis;" nor: Nonie poesis erat;" but "poesime erat." I don't hear any too well; and the thing was news to me: I had to hear , could not recognize merely. I wish, sometimes, the C.B.C. would give me 1 ½ hours to read Richard II (if they did, they gladly give me 120 X 1 ½ hrs to read the rest); and 1 ½ hours to talk modern fiction. But they won't. No, no, they never will!!! Not while I live.

Who says I am opposed to gaiety? I love a laugh as dearly as the next one - even when it is at myself - that's why I answer your letter so promptly.

"How we all are?" We are all three laid up wit the flu and take turns in looking after fires and "lites". You don't say how you are.

As ever,
F.P.G.