better."

"My dear Agnes, we might talk for ever about this dreadful snow, it
won't melt the sooner for it: how do you like this passage that I am
going to play to you? It is from a charming Nocturne, by Chopin, and is
so difficult that I shall have to play it over fifty times, or else I
shall always stumble at this place, and I never shall know the Nocturne
to play to any one. Don't you think it is beautiful?--so spiritual and
original! I can tell you it will be something to boast of, when I have
accomplished that. You like it better the oftener I play it? So do I."

"We have an invitation out. Mother has a great deal to arrange, and
directions to give. We shall have to go in ten minutes. I must rush to
the piano, though I am in rather an inconvenient toilette: I may as well
accustom myself to play in it. I shall have to spend three hours this
evening without any music. Well, to make up for it, I will occupy myself
for the next ten minutes with an exercise for this obstinate fourth
finger, though it is pretty dry. That weak finger has been a hindrance
to many a fine passage and scale. That is better! Now I can put on my
tight gloves. Suppose I should put on the left glove on the way."

Well, my young ladies, how many hours do you think all those minutes
would make in a year? But I hear you say, "What is the use of worrying
to pick up all those stray minutes, like lost pins? We have a whole hour
to practise every day, when nothing prevents." Exactly, when nothing
prevents.

I will now tell you a few of my secrets for piano performers.

If in piano-playing, or in any art, you wish to attain success, you must