amount of nervous energy one has, the hand and wrist. Perhaps the
poorest kind of hand for the piano is the long narrow one, with long
fingers. Far better to have a short, broad one with short fingers. Josef
Hofmann has a wonderful hand for the piano; rather small, yes, but so
thick and muscular. The wrist, too, is a most important factor. Some
pianists have what I call a 'natural wrist,' that is they have a natural
control of it; it is no trouble for them to play octaves, for instance.
Mme. Carreño has that kind of wrist; she never had difficulty with
octaves, they are perfect, Hofmann also has a marvelous wrist. I am
sorry to say I have not that kind of wrist, and therefore have been much
handicapped on that account. For I have had to work tremendously to
develop not only the wrist but the whole technic. You see I was a wonder
child, and played a great deal as a small boy. Then from fifteen to
twenty I did not practise anything like what I ought to have done. That
is the period when the bones grow, muscles develop--everything grows.
Another thing against me is the length of my fingers. When the fingers
are longer than the width of the hand across the knuckle joint, it is
not an advantage but a detriment. The extra length of finger is only so
much dead weight that the hand has to lift. This is another disadvantage
I have had to work against. Yes, as you say, it is a rather remarkable
hand in regard to size and suppleness. But I hardly agree that it is
like Liszt's; more like Chopin's, judging from the casts I have seen of
his hand.

"As for technical routine, of course I play scales a good deal and in
various ways. When I 'go into training,' I find the best means to attain
velocity is to work with the metronome. One can't jump at once into the
necessary agility, and the metronome is a great help in bringing one up
to the right pitch. You see by the firmness of these muscles at the back
and thumb side of my hand, that I am in good trim now; but one soon