k, Herr
Schachtner!' he cried. 'See how correct and orderly it is! Only it
could never be of any use, for it is so extraordinarily difficult that
no one in the world could play it.'

Wolfgang at this looked up quickly into his father's face. 'That is
why it is a concerto,' he explained, with flushed cheeks. 'People must
practise until they can play it perfectly. Look! This is how it goes;'
and he began to play it on the piano, but only succeeded in bringing
out sufficient to show his hearers what he meant it to be.

His ear for music was wonderfully fine, for when only seven years old
he could detect the difference of half a quarter of a tone between two
violins. It was an ear of such extreme delicacy, in fact, that
anything in the shape of rude or harsh sounds caused him positive
distress. On one occasion Schachtner, at the request of Leopold
Mozart, who imagined that Wolfgang's aversion to loud sounds was a
mere childish fancy, blew a blast upon the trumpet towards the child,
but he regretted it the next moment, for the boy nearly fainted away
at the shock.

'What took others months of practice to achieve came to him as a gift
of God,' his father used to say; and truly there seems to have been
something of the miraculous about Wolfgang's powers. His violin
lessons had hardly begun when one evening, as Leopold Mozart, Herr
Schachtner, and Herr Wentzl were about to play a set of six trios
composed by the last-named musician, Wolfgang put in a plea that he
might be allowed to play second violin! Needless to say, his request
was refused as a matter of course. The child, however, persisted, and
at length he was told that if he were careful to make no sound he
might sit beside Herr Schachtner with his violin and bow, to make
believe that he was playing.

The first trio began, but it had not proceeded far ere Schachtner's
attention was drawn to the boy at his side. He was actually playing
the part--and playing it correctly! The second violin ceased bowing in
astonishment, and allowed Wolfgang to go on alone, which he did to the
end. Schachtner and the father exchanged glances, and the former
perceived that Leopold's eyes were full of tears. After this trial the
boy was allowed to play in the remaining pieces, unaccompanied by
Schachtner. At the conclusion, emboldened by success, he volunteered
to play the first violin's part--an offer which was greeted with
laughter; but, nothing daunted, he seized his violin and began,