with Herr Frankh. Reutter was the music director of St. Stephen's Church in Vienna. He complained to Herr Frankh that it was very hard to find good voices for his boy-choir.

"I have a boy here in my house who has a wonderful voice," declared Herr Frankh. "You shall hear him and judge for yourself."

Little Sepperl was now eight or nine years old. He was called from the kitchen where he was having dinner with the cook. Reutter was delighted with the child's singing. He tested him in sight-reading and in the use of his voice.

"Very good! Excellent!" said Herr Reutter. "Now, then, can you trill?"

"No, sir," replied Sepperl. "My cousin didn't teach me to trill because he can't do it himself. But I can try.”

He learned to trill so quickly that Reutter was more. pleased than ever. He decided to take the boy to Vienna. Sepperl's parents gave their consent, and once again the little fellow set out for a new home.

For ten years Joseph sang in the choir of the stately, magnificent old church of St. Stephen. He was given lessons in music, and besides. this he had the usual school studies. His great trouble was that Reutter never would give him lessons in composition. The old director wished. to have the boy spend all his spare time in choir practice. Whenever Joseph's parents sent him a little money from

home for new clothes, the boy saved it to buy books on the theory of music. In those days he often wore untidy clothes and a dirty wig, just as his mother had feared he would do. But he was always a merry, industrious little fellow. He studied hard and learned much from the works of Emmanuel Bach, who was the son of the great Sebastian.

Joseph was fond of frolic and sometimes got into trouble. When his voice changed, Reutter had no more use for him in the choir. Just about that time Joseph played another prank. He cut off the pigtail of a wig which was worn by one of the choir-singers. This piece of mischief gave Reutter an excuse for turning the boy out of the choir without a day's warning.

VII

PAPA HAYDN

It was a stormy winter night when young Haydn found himself homeless in the streets of Vienna. He had been dismissed from St. Stephen's choir without so much as a penny in his pockets. His only possessions were his books and three shirts, which were tied up in a little bundle. That night he slept on a bench out of doors. He put his bundle under his head for a pillow.

The next day he went to a friend of his, who was a wigmaker and barber. This wigmaker was a kindly man.

He gave Haydn the use of his garret.

The snow blew

in through the cracks of the roof; sometimes the garret was so cold that the water in the pitcher was frozen. But the young musician was glad of any shelter.

A little worm-eaten harpsichord stood in the garret. Here Haydn worked and studied. He took his meals with the wigmaker's family. He gave the daughters music lessons, and sometimes he helped to dress and powder the wigs.

After a while things began to improve. Haydn got a few pupils. He played the violin in one church and the organ in another. Best of all, he made friends who were able to help him.

On moonlight nights Haydn and two young friends of his used to stroll through the streets of Vienna and serenade famous musicians. One night they stopped under the window of Herr Curtz, the leader of the opera. Haydn began to play one of his own compositions on the violin.

Down rushed Herr Curtz in a great state of excitement. "You are just the man I need to write music for my new libretto!" he cried.

He fairly pulled Haydn upstairs. The young musician was much surprised to find himself hurried into a big, candle-lit room and pushed down upon a piano stool. Then Herr Curtz got his breath and began to explain. "The music must represent a great tempest at sea,"

he said.

"But I have never seen a storm at sea," cried Joseph Haydn.

"Neither have I," said the director, "but we must manage it somehow."

They had a dreadful time. Haydn sat banging away and Herr Curtz stood behind him, angry and excited. At last Haydn was in despair. He opened his arms wide, lifted them, brought both hands down suddenly at the ends of the keyboard, and drew them quickly together until they met, striking all the notes on the way. Curtz threw his arms around the young musician.

"Fine! Grand!" he shouted. "That's exactly what I wanted. That's the tempest!"

Haydn was well paid for this work. It seemed to be the beginning of his good fortune. After that he never was hungry or poor again. He became the director of music to Prince Esterhazy. For thirty years he was a

friend and companion of the Prince.

His life at the Esterhazy country estate was quiet and contented. He could work there without interruption. Sometimes he visited Vienna, but he was happiest in the country, hunting and fishing and taking long walks in the mountains. He conducted the Prince's orchestra and wrote music for it. In summer the musicians gave open-air concerts. Sometimes they enjoyed friendly musical evenings with the Prince's family.

All this time Haydn's fame was growing in France and