work and subtract from his pleasure by such thoughtless requests.
Of course it is not in all cases that such an invitation brings a subtraction of pleasure, for it is a real pleasure to sing and play to an appreciative audience, be it large or small. But the trouble is, that in many cases he is desired to sing or play something light and trifling in order to amuse a non-musical audience.
If he has any conscience and refuses to give trash,—if he chooses some music that is really good, music that he is not ashamed to see on the programme, his hearers are not interested. But if, on the other hand, he descends to the level of the musical education of the average person, he loses in artistic self-respect.
In the larger cities musicians generally receive a stated sum for their services in such affairs, as funerals, weddings, private gatherings, and musicales. One way of getting entertainment out of some well-known musician is to invite him to dine, thinking he can hardly decline to play or sing when enjoying his entertainer's hospitality. But even this scheme is not always successful, as the following shows:—
When Fischer, the celebrated oboe player, who was remarkable for the oddity of his manner, played concertos at the grand concerts given at the rotunda in Dublin, a noble lord, who had been enraptured with the rare talent he displayed, came up to him, and having complimented him, gave him a pressing invitation to sup with him the following evening, adding, "You will bring your oboe with you."
Fischer, who was a little nettled at that sort of invitation, hastily replied, "My lord, my oboe never sups."
A similar story is told of a celebrated violinist who was invited to dine at a certain mansion, and after dinner was asked to play. Upon saying that he did not have his violin with him, his hostess expressed surprise that he had not brought it. But he excused himself by saying that his violin had no necessity for dining.
