ions to all rules, and we must remember that when Tom Sawyer
forbade the boys using his whitewash-brush, the scheme worked well.

One instance, however, might be cited where the law of compensation
seems really to have stood no chance. Christoph had a goodly musical
library and a collection of the best organ-music that had been produced
up to that time. He kept this music in a case, and carried the key to
the case in his pocket. On rare occasions he had shown bits of this
music to Sebastian, who read music like print when it is easy. The boy
devoured all the music he could lay his hands on, and hummed it over to
himself until every note and accent was fixed in his memory. He dearly
wanted to examine that music in the locked-up case, but his brother
declared his ambition nonsense--he was too young. But the boy contrived
a way to pick the lock--for a music-lover laughs at locksmiths--and at
night when all the household were safely in bed, he would steal
downstairs in his bare feet and get a sheet of the music and copy it off
by moonlight, sitting in the deep ledge of the window. Thus did he work
for six months, whenever the moon shone bright enough to read the lines
and signs and marks. But alas! one day the elder brother was rummaging
around the boy's room in search of things contraband and he pounced upon
the portfolio of copied music. He summoned the offender into his
presence. The facts were admitted, and Johann Sebastian had his bare
legs well tingled with an apple-sprout. Then the portfolio was
confiscated and carried away, despite pleadings, promises and tears. And
the question still remains whether "discipline" is not a matter of
gratification to the person in power rather than a sincere and honest
attempt to benefit the person disciplined.

Nevertheless, Johann Sebastian Bach was working out his own education:
he belonged to the boys' chorus at Ohrdruf, as all boys in the vicinity
did. Music in every German village was an important item, and the best
singers and best behaved members of the village choir were set apart as
a sort of select choir--a choir within a choir--and were often gathered
together to sing on special occasions at weddings and festivals. Johann
Sebastian had a sweet, well-modulated voice, and whenever he was to
sing, he carried his violin in the green bag, so he could play, too, if
needed. Thus he played and sang at serenades, just as did Martin Luther,
many years before, in Johann Sebastian's o