using every minute for the pupil's advancement, he would take up much time in relating his experiences and reminiscences, and telling about the different composers and notable people he had met in his long and busy life. And his pupils were oftentimes not averse to this, for besides being very entertaining, it occasionally concealed the fact that the lessons were not as well prepared as they might have been.
In one of his classes were Sir Arthur Sullivan, and the violinist, Carl Feininger. As they came to recitation one morning all the class was struck with the downcast expression on the face of the usually smiling Moscheles, and as the pupils came in each one would exclaim: "Um Gotteswillen, Herr Professor, what is the matter; are you ill?" But never a word did they get in reply, only a wave of the hand toward the piano, as much as to say, "You are here to study music and not to pry into my feelings. Do not chatter to me; sit down and attend to the lesson."
The last pupil to enter was Feininger, and he being Moscheles' pet pupil, felt brave enough to insist that the dear Herr Professor tell his anxious pupils what had occurred to so cast a cloud over his genial spirits.
"Well," said Moscheles, "I will tell you." So with labored breath he began: "I got up this morning—I dressed myself—I went to eat my breakfast—there was no butter—I sent my Dienstmädchen for some butter—" and then his voice burst forth in agony, almost in sobs, "and what do you think she brought it in? That butter was wrapped in a page of—my G minor Concerto!"
97.—THE FRIENDS, MOZART AND HAYDN.
The jealousy and dislike that has existed in the minds of certain of the great musicians for others of their guild found no place in the feelings Mozart and Haydn entertained for each other.
Haydn was writing his symphonies before Mozart
