"I wonder if even a little of my own musical knowledge and love for
the art will overflow upon the two dear children," remarked Father
Mozart, gazing down tenderly on the little ones.

"Why not," answered the mother; "you long ago promised to begin
lessons with Nannerl; can she not start this very night?"

"Yes, indeed, Papachen, may I not learn to play the piano? I promise
to work very hard."

"Very well," answered the father; "you shall see I am grateful for all
the love you have showed me tonight, and I will begin to teach Nannerl
at once."

"I want to learn music too," broke in little Wolfgang, looking at his
father with beaming eyes.

Every one laughed at this, while the father said baby Wolfgang would
have to grow some inches before he could reach the keys.

The lesson began, and the little girl showed both quickness and
patience to grasp the ideas. No one at first noticed the tiny child
who planted himself at his sister's elbow, the light of the candles
falling on his delicate, sensitive features and bright brown hair. His
glance never left Nannerl's fingers as they felt hesitatingly
among the white and black keys, while his ear easily understood the
intervals she tried to play.

When the little girl left the piano, or the harpsichord, as it was