e tried, but the tendons were injured, and at last the
doctors told him his brain could never again telegraph to that hand so
it would perfectly obey orders. He begged that they would cut the finger
off, but this they refused to do, claiming that, even though the finger
was in the way, piano-playing in any event was not the chief end of
man--he might try a pick and shovel.

Clara, who now wore her dress to her shoe-tops, sympathized with the
young man in his distress. She said, "Never mind, I will play for
you--you write the music and I will play it!"

Gradually he became resigned to this, and spent much of his time
composing music for Heine's songs and his own. Wieck didn't much like
these songs, and forbade his daughter playing such trashy things--only a
paraphrase of Schubert's work, anyway, goodness me!

The girl pouted and rebelled, and erelong Robert Schumann was requested
to take lodgings elsewhere. Moodily he obeyed, but he managed to keep up
a secret correspondence with Clara, through the help of her sister.
Whenever Clara played in public, Robert was sure to be there, even
though the distance were a hundred miles. He had given up playing, and
now swung between composing and literature, having assumed the
editorship of a musical magazine.

When Clara now played in concert, she wore a train, and her hair was
done up on the top of her head.

Schumann's musical magazine was winning its way--the young man had a
literary style. Mendelssohn commended the magazine, and its editor in
turn commended Mendelssohn. A new star had been discovered on the
horizon--a Pole, Chopin by name. And whenever Clara Wieck appeared,
there were extended notices, lavish in praise, profuse in prophecy.

Herz had written an article for a rival journal about Clara Wieck,
wherein the statement was made that no woman trained on, that her
playing was intuitive, and the limit quickly reached--marriage was death
to a woman's art, etc.

To this Schumann replied with needless heat, and his friends began to
joke him about his "disinterestedness." He was getting moody, and there
were times when he was silent for days. His passion for Clara Wieck was
consuming his life. He resolved to go direct to Frederick Wieck and have
it out.

* * * * *

They are always called "the Schumanns"--Robert and Clara. You can not
separate them, any more than you can separate the great Robert Browning
and Elizabeth Barrett. "Whoms