A BRAVE LITTLE MUSIC-LOVER A few weeks before the birth of Sebastian Bach, a boy named George Frederic Handel was born at Halle, in Germany. Halle is a town not far distant from Bach's birthplace. You remember that Bach's relatives were all musical and that his father was the town-musician. Little Handel's family, on the other hand, were not in the least musical. His father, who was a doctor, really hated music. From the time that George was a baby he loved sweet sounds. When he was only five years old, he and some larger boys organized an orchestra of their own. They played upon drums, Jew's harps, small flutes and horns. I fear that they sometimes made more noise than music. But they were very happy until old Dr. Handel, George's father, discovered them. "What nonsense is this?" he cried. "My son is to be a lawyer, a gentleman, not a poor, idle musician." The doctor took the toy instruments away from his son. He would not allow any music to be played in his house, and he forbade George to visit at any house where music might be heard. He was so greatly worried by the boy's love of music that he even took him out of school. "Children are taught the scale in school," said Dr. Handel, "and my boy would soon grow too much interested in that sort of foolishness." But young George had a passionate love for music. Nothing that his father did could keep him from thinking about it. A friend of the Handel family admired the talented boy and was sorry for him. One morning when the doctor was away from home, this kind friend secretly placed a clavichord in Handel's attic. The strings of the little instrument were muffled with strips of cloth. It made only a very faint sound, just loud enough for the player to hear. No one in the rooms below noticed the soft tinkle. The boy was delighted with his treasure. Night after night he slipped out of bed and went up to the gloomy attic. There he taught himself to play. He had no help of any kind, but he learned the notes and had a chance to use his fingers in practice. As time went on, people began to say that the Handel house was haunted. Late at night servants caught glimpses of a little white figure flitting over the stairs. Passersby thought that they sometimes saw a ghost at the window, or a glimmering light up in the attic. The women of the family grew nervous. The story came to the ears of the old doctor. He would not believe it at first. But the servants persisted in saying that they had seen a white figure on the stairs leading to the attic. They had been too badly frightened to look at it closely. The doctor took a lantern and went up to the attic to find the ghost. His wife and the rest of the household followed him. Their curiosity almost overcame their fear. When they opened the door, what was their amazement to find no ghost,-nothing but poor little George Frederic sitting at his clavichord in his nightgown and nightcap, with his bare feet swinging some distance from the floor. You might think that after this Dr. Handel would have seen how foolish it was to try to keep his son from being a musician. But still the doctor was determined that bright little George should be a lawyer. One day Dr. Handel was starting on a visit to an older son who was in the service of a great Duke. George was then about seven years old. He begged to be allowed to go with his father, for he felt sure that at the Duke's castle he would have a chance to hear some music. But his father refused to take him. In those days all long journeys were made by coach. Dr. Handel's coach had jogged on comfortably for about a mile when he heard a shout behind him. He looked around. There was George running after the coach as fast as his little legs would carry him. The father scolded the boy and ordered him to go home. George would not obey. He cried and said he was sorry that he had been naughty, but still he followed the carriage. Finally his father picked him up, and, after making him promise to behave well, took him to the Duke's castle. |