Near the Zamek, in a triangle of fresh green trees, was the shrine of the Mother of Sorrows. The heroic King John Sobieski had built it two hundred years before and dedicated it to “the Queen of Poland.” It was here that the boy knelt most often to pray for the liberation of his country and for his own future. Another favorite spot was the seventeenth century Church of the Holy Cross, a spot particularly dear to the people of Warsaw. In its crypt was buried the heart of Chopin, and as young Paderewski saw it for the first time, he must have felt as many Poles had felt before him that the heart of Poland itself was buried in this holy spot. “Where your treasure is,” read the inscription over the shrine, “there shall your heart be also.”
Although Ignace was a serious boy and a tireless student, he had an incurable streak of mischief in him. In Warsaw, for the first time, he had a real opportunity to exercise it. At home, he had never had any playmates but his older sister, and a boy’s older sister is hardly the ideal playmate. But now the rather shy country lad blossomed out and became a favorite among his young fellow students. They called him “Squirrel,” in honor of his quick ways and his bright red hair. (Polish squirrels are not gray, but red.) He soon became the ringleader in most of the pranks that went on in the stately corridors of the Conservatory. He also became an expert in the art of playing practical jokes on the older, more dignified students, who frequently called him several names other than “Squirrel.”
It was not Ignace’s mischief-making, however, that finally got him into serious trouble with the officials of the school. It was his skill as a trombone player. During the boy’s second year as a student, Director Kontski decided to rouse up some publicity for the Conservatory by founding a student orchestra to play at local functions. As the school’s finest trombone player, Ignace was naturally drafted into the brass section as first trombone. Final exams were looming ahead. The nearer they came, the more the boy resented the considerable time he had to spend blowing his trombone at rehearsals when he preferred to be studying the complexities of harmony and counterpoint. One day he flatly refused to attend the day’s rehearsal.
The outraged director called him into the office and delivered a lecture on student discipline. Ignace countered with some ideas of his own on the useless, time-wasting aspects of the student orchestra. One word led to another, as one word unfortunately does at tense moments. Before he knew exactly what had happened, Master Ignace Paderewski had been expelled from the Warsaw Conservatory.
Fortunately for Ignace, he had friends among the faculty members. They raised such a fuss in his behalf that the Director was forced to change his mind. The boy was taken back in time to pass his examinations.
A less hot-headed fellow than the red-headed “Squirrel” might have learned a lesson from this extremely close call. But Ignace did not have the sense to stay out of trouble. The next year the orchestra question flared again. Seven students drew up a letter of protest which appeared over their signatures in the newspaper. The seven students were promptly expelled for one year, Ignace among them. This time no amount of influence helped.
Only the loyal support of Edward Kerntopf enabled Ignace to stay on in Warsaw and work at the piano as best he could by himself. And by giving piano lessons to the young children of Kerntopf customers he earned the princely sum of twelve cents an hour.
By the end of the school year he was getting a little bored with this routine and yearned to launch his concert career. So did his best friend, a seventeen-year-old violin student who was also named Ignace. “Why wait around until we’re too old to enjoy success?” the seventeen-year-old asked the fifteen-year-old. “Now look, Squirrel. We’re wasting our time! The summer vacation is coming. What do people do in summer? They go to summer resorts. And they need entertainment there, don’t they? Let’s go on tour and present a violin and piano recital. You have enough Liszt and Chopin pieces ready for your half of the program. What do you say?”
“Well—uh—”
“Good! Then it’s all settled. We’ll tour as far as Russia. That’s it! We’ll go all the way to St. Petersburg, leaving a trail of triumph behind us!”