st a somewhat quicker tempo.
"Not that I would do anything to impair your carefulness and accuracy,
but you must take a risk, and from the beginning, too. I am reminded of
the young man who has been very carefully brought up. When the time
comes for him to strike out and take his chance in life, he holds back
and is afraid, while another with more courage, steps in and takes away
his opportunity."

We discussed the slow movement at great length. "Note in this movement
the slow, dreamy effect that can be made at the ending of the second
solo, and the artistic use of the pedal in the following chords. The
third movement must have great swing and 'go'; the octave passage
cadenza should be practised in rhythmical groups, and the final Andante
must be fast."

The third time we played the concerto I had it well in hand. Dr. Mason
accompanied as only he could do, and at the close praised me on the way
I had worked it up, and the poetry and fire I was able to put into it.
Who could help playing with fire and enthusiasm when led by such a
master!

Dr. Mason was a most inspiring teacher, quick to note and praise what
was good, and equally vigilant in correcting what was blameworthy. His
criticisms were of the utmost value, for he had such wide experience,
and such a large acquaintance with music and musicians. Best of all he
was a true artist, always ready to demonstrate his art for the benefit
of the pupil, always encouraging, always inspiring.

VITAL POINTS IN PIANO PLAYING

COMPOSITE PRINCIPLES DEDUCED FROM TALKS WITH EMINENT PIANISTS AND
TEACHERS

SECTION I

How things are done, how others do them, and the reasons for the doing
of them in one way and not in another, used to occupy my thoughts back
as far as I can remember. As a child I was fond of watching any one
doing fine needlework or beautiful embroidery, and tried to imitate what
I saw, going into minutest details. This fondness for exactness and
detail, when, applied to piano study, led me to question many things; to
wonder why I was told to do thus and so, when other people seemed to do
other ways; in fact I began to discover that every one who played the
piano played it in a different fashion. Why was there not one way?

One memorable night I was taken to hear Anton Rubinstein. What a
marvelous instrument the piano was, to be sure, when its keys were
moved by a touch that was at one moment all fire and flame, and the next
smooth as velvet or so