loss of her first husband. Geyer was a man of much artistic talent,
an actor, singer, author and painter. He thought little Richard might
become a portrait painter, or possibly a musician, since the child had
learned to play two little pieces on the piano.

Geyer found employment in a Dresden theater, so the family removed to
that city. But he did not live to see the blossoming of his youngest
step-son's genius, as he passed away on September 30, 1821, when the
child was eight years old.

Little Richard showed wonderful promise even in those years of
childhood. At the Kreuzschule, where his education began, he developed
an ardent love for the Greek classics, and translated the first twelve
books of the Odyssey, outside of school hours. He devoured all stories
of mythology he could lay hands on, and soon began to create vast
tragedies. He revelled in Shakespeare, and finally began to write
a play which was to combine the ideas of both Hamlet and King Lear.
Forty-two persons were killed off in the course of the play and had
to be brought back as ghosts, as otherwise there would have been no
characters for the last act. He worked on this play for two years.

Everything connected with the theater was of absorbing interest to
this precocious child. Weber, who lived in Dresden, often passed their
house and was observed with almost religious awe by little Richard.
Sometimes the great composer dropped in to have a chat with the
mother, who was well liked among musicians and artists. Thus Weber
became the idol of the lad's boyhood, and he knew "Der Freischuetz"
almost by heart. If he was not allowed to go to the theater to
listen to his favorite opera, there would be scenes of weeping and
beseeching, until permission was granted for him to run off to the
performance.

In 1827 the family returned to Leipsic, and it was at the famous
Gewandhaus concerts that the boy first heard Beethoven's music. He
was so fired by the Overture to "Egmont," that he decided at once to
become a musician. But how--that was the question. He knew nothing of
composition, but, borrowing a treatise on harmony, tried to learn the
whole contents in a week.

It was a struggle, and one less determined than the fourteen-year-old
boy would have given up in despair. He was made of different stuff.
Working alone by himself, he composed a sonata, a quartette and
an aria. At last he ventured to announce the result of his secret
studies. At this news his relat