Section 200. THE POWER OF MUSIC.
Reading edition
On one occasion when young Chopin[1] had been travelling for several days in the slow fashion of German diligences, he was delighted and surprised, on stopping at a small post-house, to discover a grand pianoforte in one of the rooms[2], and still more surprised to find it in tune[3]—thanks, probably, to the musical taste of the postmaster’s family. He sat down instantly and began to improvise in[4] his peculiarly happy manner. One by one the travellers were attracted by the unwonted sweet sounds. One of them even allowed[5] his beloved pipe to go out in his ecstasy, and the postmaster, his wife, and his two daughters joined the group of listeners. Unmindful of his audience, of the journey, the lapse of time[6], and everything but the music, Chopin continued to play, and his companions[7] to listen in rapt attention, when they were suddenly roused by a stentorian[8] voice, which made the windows rattle, calling out[9]: “The horses are ready, gentlemen!” The postmaster roared out an anathema[10] against the disturber—the postillion—and the passengers cast angry glances at him. Chopin started from his seat, but was instantly surrounded by his audience, who entreated him to continue. “But we have been here for some time,” said Chopin, consulting his watch, “and are due in Posen already[11].” “Stay and play, noble young artist,” cried the postmaster, “I will find you courier’s horses if you will only remain a little longer.” “Do be persuaded[12],” added the postmaster’s wife, almost threatening the artist with an embrace[13]. What could he do but resume his place at the instrument? When at last he paused, the servant appeared with wine; the host’s daughter served the artist first, and then the travellers, upon which the postmaster proposed a cheer for[14] the musician, in which all joined[15]. The ladies in their gratitude filled the carriage pockets with the best eatables and wine the house contained; and when at last the artist rose to go[16], his gigantic host seized him in his arms and triumphantly bore him to[17] the carriage! Long[18] years afterwards Chopin would recall (S. 101, N. 22) this little incident with pleasure, and declare that the plaudits of the press had never given him more delight than the homage[19] of these simple music-loving Germans.—Manchester Tit-Bits.