“Try it,” said his father encouragingly, as he placed the boy’s fingers upon the keys. “Keep your fingers firm and let them follow as I guide them.”
The little Ludwig was greatly pleased. His father repeated the melody which had so much delighted him. After he had played it a few times, the boy said:
“It is all right now, father. Now I can play it all alone.”
“Oho!” said his father. “You can hardly do that yet. You are venturing a little too far.”
“Only let me try,” persisted the boy.
His father let him do as he wished. He seated himself at the piano; at first he ran his fingers over the keys and then accurately began the folk melody, which he played smoothly to the end without hesitation or mistake.
His father, who had not expected any kind of excellence in the performance, sat as if spell-bound and regarded the boy with wide-open eyes.
“Youngster, truly there is more in you than I have expected or thought of until to-day,” he exclaimed, and, taking him upon his knee, he kissed his fresh, young lips. “You will yet become a finished musician, and a support for your father and mother.”
“I wish for nothing better than to be able to make music correctly,” said the boy, as he joyfully clapped his hands.
“Good! No one shall prevent you, and I myself will be your teacher,” said his father. “If you are truly industrious, you will get ahead wonderfully, provided you do not go too fast and will practise regularly.”