ow here. He eyed
somewhat hungrily the package under my arm, his long, spider-like
fingers approaching it in such an alarming manner that I thought it
advisable to open at once. He turned over the leaves, reading through
the Sonata. He had now become interested, but my courage dropped to
zero when he asked me to play the Sonata, but there was no help for
it.

"So I started on his splendid American Chickering grand. Right in the
beginning, where the violin starts in, he exclaimed: 'How bold that
is! Look here, I like that; once more please.' And where the violin
again comes in _adagio_, he played the part on the upper octaves with
an expression so beautiful, so marvelously true and singing, it made
me smile inwardly. My spirits rose because of his lavish approval,
which did me good. After the first movement, I asked his permission to
play a solo, and chose the Minuet, from the Humoresken."

At this point Grieg was brave enough to ask Liszt to play for him.
This the master did in a superb manner. To go on with the letter:

"When this was done, Liszt said jauntily, 'Now let us go on with
the Sonata'; to which I naturally retorted, 'No thank you, not after
this.'

"'Why not? Then give it to me, I'll do it.' And what does Liszt do?
He plays the whole thing, root and branch, violin and piano; nay more,
for he plays it fuller and more broadly. He was literally over the
whole piano at once, without missing a note. And how he did play! With
grandeur, beauty, unique comprehension.

"Was this not geniality itself? No other great man I have met is like
him. I played the Funeral March, which was also to his taste. Then,
after a little talk, I took leave, with the consciousness of having
spent two of the most interesting hours of my life."

The second meeting with Liszt took place soon after this. Of it he
writes in part:

"I had fortunately received the manuscript of my Concerto from
Leipsic, and took it with me. A number of musicians were present.

"'Will you play?' asked Liszt. I answered in the negative, as you
know I had never practised it. Liszt took the manuscript, went to the
piano, and said to the assembled guests: 'Very well, then, I will show
you that I also cannot.' Then he began. I admit that he took the
first part too fast, but later on, when I had a chance to indicate the
tempo, he played as only he can play. His demeanor is worth any price
to see. Not content with playing, he at the same time converses,
add