The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1891-02-04
Next day M. Mozart paid few visits


his father. | have exercised my fin
gers and now am going to rest"
Nice restl" replied his father,
laughing.
Eyes, papa, each one has his own
way of doing things
The evening came. Wolfgang was
conducted by his father to the imperial
palace. The master of the chapel was
dressed in black. His son had on a
court costume, little coat of purple,
with vest of the same color, cuffs of
rose silk, white stockings and buckled
shoes. He was pretty enough to sketch.
One might call him little marquis.
A master of ceremonies conducted
them to the large concert hall; there
was not person there. The first
thing Wolfgang perceived was "a superb
piano, before which he quickly took
his seat. M. Mozart went on the bal
cony which overlooked the superb gar
dens of the palace.
Wolfgang, alone in this large salon,
illuminated as for royal feast, was
seated at the piano. His small fingers
ran over the keys with a wonderful
rapidity, when he heard, near him, a
child's voice say:
ooh, how well you playl Are you
the little Mozart that they have been
discussing for the last week or two?"
Wolfgang turned around; he saw
at his side a little girl seven years old,
very richly dressed, and of ravishing
beauty.
How beautiful you are" was the
response of the Bohemian child
hot t,11
day." said the little girl. "Tell me,
are you Wolfgang Mozart?"
Yes, MademOiselle."
"And who has taught you how to
play so well on the piano?'
My father"
How annoying it must have beenl
you must have studied a great deal to
have become so proficient"
Yes, and it makes me very tired
sometimes, too: then begin to pray to
the great Saint John Nepomuk to give
me courage-good willard he gives
me all that"
"Who is this great John Nepomuk?"
"The Saint of Bohemia"
Why do they call him the Saint of
Bohemian"
Because his statue is on the bridge
of the Moldau at Prague"
"That is no reason" said the little
girl, with Impotence.
e. know his history, and l can re-
late it to you"
Oh, yes, tell me all; it will give me
great pleasure"
Listen: A long time ago-a very
long time ago--there was at Nepomuk
an archbishop of Prague, who was
good, uncommonly good, and who was
so charitable that he never kept any
thing for himself. Often he would
go to bed without any supper and would
save his dinner to give the poor. They
called him John Wellin. The arch
bishop happened to pass by one day
and confessed to this vicar.
"The next day the king, Wenceslaus,
sent for the vicar and ordered him to
tell the confession of the archbishop.
{ can not, SIR replied the vicar very
humbly, 'the confession is sacred
thing l wish it, said the king in his
loudest tones. i can not do it, SIR
John still replied. Then the king
grew terribly angry, condemning the
vicar to terrible death, if he would
not tell him what he wanted to know.
Neither for gold nor silver, threats
nor tortures, will / speak, replied the
vicar. The confession is a sacred
thing Seeing that he could not OBJ
tain anything, the king ordered that he
night, the poor John Welfn was
dragged by some mean men upon the
bridge of the Moldau. In spite of his
tears and entreaties, he was thrown
into the river in the deepest place.
They never recovered his body, because,
instead of its going to the bottom of
the water, it was carried by an angel to
paradise, and John Welfn, who was
poor man on earth, is to-day in
heaven-the representative of Bo-
hemia; he well deserves it,"
AS Wofgang finished his recitation,
he heard great rustic of silks, satin
shoes, plumes, etc. He looked all
around him and saw, with great aston
ishment, this large salon, so empty
moment before, filled with beautiful la
dies and fine-looking men. He arose
very red and quite confused.
DO you not recognize me?" asked
gentleman who came towards him.
"You are the Emperor" said Wolf
gang, looking at him.
"And here is the Empress Maria
Theresa" added the Emperor in con-
Quoting the little Mozart towards lady
about forty-five years old, in all the
beauty and brilliancy of youth. She
welcomed the child with the best will.
The little Mozart went and sat down
at the piano, and there, smiling to those
who surrounded him, especially the
little girl-ior she would not sit very
far from him-he began to play. He
showed so much ease that his small
fingers seemed to play with the keys,
passing from rapid measure, difficult
and grave, to slower and more melodi-
Gus accent. The illustrious audience
could not suppress a cry of admira-
ton, moved by such wonderful talent.
Wolfgang knows his piece so we'll
that he could play it with his eyes
shut" remarked his father.
"Cover the piano and you will see,"
said Wolfgang.
Then he played his finest piece under
the cloth that covered the keys. When
l. fasr