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16 June, 2022

My dear reader,

I hope you and yours are well, etc. It’s rainy and dreary where I am at the moment, in a library on the Indian River, near the coast of Florida. The librarian is giving me an evil look (they wish to close), and it is the sort of library with a high likelihood of having a pirate torture chamber or pit of snakes with which to punish miscreants and people who dog-ear pages, so I must be brief.

I am in the process of collecting a complete history of the League of Scholars, who you will no doubt know as some of the most well-known and unwitting heroes of our century. I have always found it profoundly fascinating how it all began, because it was such a small, innocent action: the attendance of a symphony. I’ve included a copy of the music program from that night, November 2, 1882, because it is interesting to look at and realize the significance of such an insignificant event. For good or ill, it is small things that move us forward, and for the League it was a very small thing that changed the course of their lives forever, and perhaps even the course of this world.

In a way, this music started it all.

Yours truly,

The Author

Boston Music Hall Program
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