ety, to spend the two pieces of six
francs I had yet remaining in a good breakfast. I found myself so
cheerful that I went all the way singing; I even remember I sang a
cantata of Batistin's called the Baths of Thomery, which I knew by heart.
May a blessing light on the good Batistin and his good cantata, which
procured me a better breakfast than I had expected, and a still better
dinner which I did not expect at all! In the midst of my singing,
I heard some one behind me, and turning round perceived an Antonine,
who followed after and seemed to listen with pleasure to my song.
At length accosting me, he asked, If I understood music. I answered,
"A little," but in a manner to have it understood I knew a great deal,
and as he continued questioning of me, related a part of my story.
He asked me, If I had ever copied music? I replied, "Often," which was
true: I had learned most by copying. "Well," continued he, "come with
me, I can employ you for a few days, during which time you shall want for
nothing; provided you consent not to quit my room." I acquiesced very
willingly, and followed him.

This Antonine was called M. Rotichon; he loved music, understood it, and
sang in some little concerts with his friends; thus far all was innocent
and right, but apparently this taste had become a furor, part of which he
was obliged to conceal. He conducted me into a chamber, where I found a
great quantity of music: he gave me some to copy, particularly the
cantata he had heard me singing, and which he was shortly to sing
himself.

I remained here three or four days, copying all the time I did not eat,
for never in my life was I so hungry, or better fed. M. Rolichon brought
my provisions himself from the kitchen, and it appeared that these good
priests lived well, at least if every one fared as I did. In my life, I
never took such pleasure in eating, and it must be owned this good cheer
came very opportunely, for I was almost exhausted. I worked as heartily
as I ate, which is saying a great deal; 'tis true I was not as correct as
diligent, for some days after, meeting M. Rolichon in the street, he
informed me there were so many omissions, repetitions, and
transpositions, in the parts I had copied, that they could not be
performed. It must be owned, that in choosing the profession of music,
I hit on that I was least calculated for; yet my voice was good and I
copied neatly; but the fatigue of long works bewilders me so much,