ll play
to her, and she will understand it. Pardon me,' he continued, as he
opened the door and saw a young man sitting by a table, mending shoes,
and a young girl leaning sorrowfully upon an old-fashioned piano; 'I
heard music and was tempted to enter. I am a musician. I--I also
overheard something of what you said. You wish to hear--that is, you
would like--that is--shall I play for you?'

"'Thank you,' said the shoemaker, 'but our piano is so wretched, and we
have no music.'

"'No music!' exclaimed the composer; 'how, then, does the young
lady--I--I entreat your pardon,' he added, stammering as he saw that
the girl was blind; 'I had not perceived before. Then you play by ear?
But where do you hear the music, since you frequent no concerts?'

"'We lived at Bruhl for two years; and, while there, I used to hear a
lady practicing near us. During the summer evenings her windows were
generally open, and I walked to and fro outside to listen to her.'

"Beethoven seated himself at the piano. Never, during all the years I
knew him, did I hear him play better than to that blind girl and her
brother. Even the old instrument seemed inspired. The young man and
woman sat as if entranced by the magical, sweet sounds that flowed out
upon the air in rhythmical swell and cadence, until, suddenly, the
flame of the single candle wavered, sank, flickered, and went out. The
shutters were thrown open, admitting a flood of brilliant moonlight,
but the player paused, as if lost in thought.

"'Wonderful man!' said the shoemaker in a low tone; 'who and what are
you?'

"'Listen!' replied the master, and he played the opening bars of the
Sonata in F. 'Then you are Beethoven!' burst from the young people in
delighted recognition. 'Oh, play to us once more,' they added, as he
rose to go,--'only once more!'

"'I will improvise a sonata to the moonlight,' said he, gazing
thoughtfully upon the liquid stars shining so softly out of the depths
of a cloudless winter sky. Then he played a sad and infinitely lovely
movement, which crept gently over the instrument, like the calm flow of
moonlight over the earth. This was followed by a wild, elfin passage
in triple time--a sort of grotesque interlude, like the dance of
fairies upon the lawn. Then came a swift agitated ending--a
breathless, hurrying, trembling movement, descriptive of flight, and
uncertainty, and vague impulsive terror, which carried us away on its
rustling wings, and