and the spelling and writing so bad, that Mr. Romecki was taken
in. Indeed, he flew at once into such a passion that he sent for
the Jew with the intention of administering to him a sound
thrashing. Only Frederick's timely confession saved the poor
fellow from his undeserved punishment. But enough of Szafarnia,
where the young scapegrace paid so long a holiday visit (from his
letter to William Kolberg we learn that he would not see his
friend for four weeks more), and where, judging from what has
already been told, and also from a remark in the same letter, he
must have "enjoyed himself pretty well." And now we will return
to Warsaw, to Nicholas Chopin's boarding-school.

To take away any bad impression that may be left by the last
anecdote, I shall tell another of a more pleasing character,
which, indeed, has had the honour of being made the subject of a
picture. It was often told, says Karasowski, by Casimir
Wodzinski, a boarder of Nicholas Chopin's. One day when the
latter was out, Barcinski, the assistant master, could not manage
the noisy boys. Seeing this, Frederick, who just then happened to
come into the room, said to them that he would improvise a pretty
story if they would sit down and be quiet. This quickly restored
silence. He thereupon had the lights extinguished, took his seat
at the piano, and began as follows:--

Robbers set out to plunder a house. They come nearer and
nearer. Then they halt, and put up the ladders they have
brought with them. But just when they are about to enter
through the windows, they hear a noise within. This gives
them a fright. They run away to the woods. There, amidst the
stillness and darkness of the night, they lie down and