Some of the names on the programme looked like a round robin sent out by a Turnverein bowling club, but I suppose if they were baked in the oven until translated they would mean something soft and soothing like a custard pudding.
Why is it that foreign singers and singerettes always have a name which listens like a cuckoo clock with a sore throat.
Perhaps if we knew how to unlock them these names would mean just plain Schmidt or Jones.
There was one singer on the programme that had the most extravagant name I ever witnessed.
If you read it off quick it sounded like the finish of the six-day bicycle race at the Madison Square Garden.
Then if you looked at it sideways it seemed to be the report of a skirmish between the Russians and the Japs.
I think that fellow just waded into the alphabet with a dip net and all the letters he caught he kept.
I liked the plot of the Opera.
