o received an illumination from Von Buelow. This is
a vivid tone picture, though without motto or verse. Starting with those
fateful fifths in the bass, it moves over two pages fitfully gloomy and
gay, till at the end of the second page a descending passage leads to
three chords so full of grim despair as to impart the atmosphere of a
dungeon. The player was hastily turning the leaf. "Stop!" cried the
excited voice of the master, who had been pacing restlessly up and down,
and now hurried from the end of the salon. "Wait! We have been in
prison--but now a ray of sunshine pierces the darkness. You must always
pause here to make the contrast more impressive. There is more music in
this little piece than in whole symphonies by some of the modern
composers."

Both Rhapsodies Op. 79 were played; the second, he said, has parts as
passionate as anything in the _Goetterdammerung_. Both are fine and
interesting works.

Again and again the players were counseled to make everything sound
well. Some intervals, fourths for instance, are harsh; make them as mild
as possible. For one can play correctly, but horribly! Some staccatos
should be shaken out of the sleeve as it were.

The first time a great work is heard there is so much to occupy the
attention that only a small amount of pleasure can be derived from it.
At the second hearing things are easier and by the twelfth time one's
pleasure is complete. The pianist must consider the listener in a first
rendering, and endeavor to soften the sharp discords.

With a group of five notes, play two and then three--it sounds more
distinguished. Remember that unlearning gives much more trouble than
learning.

* * * * *

In this brief resume of the Von Buelow lessons, the desire has been to
convey some of the hints and remarks concerning the music and its
interpretation. The master's fleeting sentences were hurriedly jotted
down during the lessons, with no thought of their ever being seen except
by the owner. But as Buelow's fame as a teacher became so great, these
brief notes may now be of some value to both teacher and student.

If it were only possible to create a picture of that Berlin music-room,
with its long windows opening out to a green garden--the May sunshine
streaming in; the two grand pianos in the center, a row of anxious,
absorbed students about the edge of the room--and the short figure of
the little Doctor, pacing up and down the polish