always, well or badly.

[FOOTNOTE: Charles Rollinat, a younger brother of Francois, went
afterwards to Russia, where, according to George Sand (see letter
to Edmond Plauchut, April 8, 1874), he was for twenty-five years
"professeur de musique et haut enseignement, avec une bonne place du
gouvernement." He made a fortune and lost it, retaining only enough
to live upon quietly in Italy. He tried then to supplement his scanty
income by literary work (translations from the Russian). George Sand,
recalling the days of long ago, says: "Il chantait comme on ne chante
plus, excepte Pauline [Viardot-Garcia]!"]

Unfortunately, the greater portion of M. Rollinat's so-called Souvenir
consists of "poetry WITHOUT truth." Nevertheless, we will not altogether
ignore his pretty stories.

One evening when Liszt played a piece of Chopin's with embellishments of
his own, the composer became impatient and at last, unable to restrain
himself any longer, walked up to Liszt and said with his ENGLISH
PHLEGM:--

"I beg of you, my dear friend, if you do me the honour to play
a piece of mine, to play what is written, or to play something
else. It is only Chopin who has the right to alter Chopin."

"Well! play yourself!" said Liszt, rising from his seat a
little irritated,

"With pleasure," said Chopin.

At that moment a moth extinguished the lamp. Chopin would not
have it relighted, and played in the dark. When he had
finished his delighted auditors overwhelmed him with
compliments, and Liszt said:

"Ah, my friend, you were right! The works of a genius like you
are sacred; it is a profanation to meddle with them. You are a
true poet, and I am only a mountebank."

Whereupon Chopin replied: "We have each our genre."

M. Rollinat then proceeds to tell his readers that Chopin, believing he
had eclipsed Liszt that evening, boasted of it, and said: "How vexed he
was!" It seems that the author felt that this part of the story put a
dangerously severe strain on the credulity of his readers, for he thinks
it necessary to assure them that these were the ipsissima verba of
Chopin. Well, the words in question came to the ears of Liszt, and he
resolved at once to have his revenge.

Five days afterwards the friends were again assembled in the same place
and at the same time. Liszt asked Chopin to play, and had all the lights
put out and all the curtains drawn; but when Chopin was going to the
piano, Liszt whispered som