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For the "Big Four" this turn of events was a humiliation. The Ruthenian army, whose interests they had so taken to heart, had suddenly ceased to exist, and the future danger which it represented to Poland was seen to have been largely imaginary. Their judgment was at fault and their power ineffectual. Against M. Paderewski's impotence they blazed with indignation.

I would come to him for a stipulated half-hour, but the lesson would continue indefinitely, until we were both forced to stop from sheer exhaustion. I have studied with him at various times. One summer especially stands out in my memory, when I had a lesson almost every day." Speaking of the rarely beautiful character of Paderewski's piano compositions, Mr.

She was learning to posture, and to utter every emotion so accurately that any spectator would recognize it at once. "And in time your voice and your body," said Brent, "will become as much your servants as are Paderewski's ten fingers. He doesn't rely upon any such rot as inspiration. Nor does any master of any art. A mind can be inspired but not a body. It must be taught.

He could not do it. Then he turned the handle of the music-room door and entered. Only three of the electric lights were on in the music-room. In the rosy light and half shadows the room looked larger than when seen in daylight, and different. She had wandered from the Mazurka into Paderewski's Mélodie Op. 8.

To exemplify what I mean, I could, for instance, refer to Paderewski's interpretations of Liszt and Chopin. During the time I was associated with the master pianist as a pupil I had abundant opportunities to make notes upon the very individual, as well as the highly artistically differentiated expressions of his musical judgment.

The critics, some of whom would have found Paderewski's hirsute crown a delightful rack upon which to hang their ridicule, went into ecstasies instead. His art and his striking personality, entirely apart from his appearance, soon made him the greatest concert attraction in the musical world.

Besides, they so often have small-pox and become quite sensible." "The atheists?" "I used to think so, but not now. And most of those I knew are Roman Catholics at present." "The women who don't desire to be slaves?" "There aren't any." "The tearers of Paderewski's hair?" "I so seldom meet them, because they all live out in the suburbs." "The tight-lacers?"

Besant, a drinker of hop bitters and Zozophine, a Jacobite, a hater of false hair and of all collective action to stamp out hydrophobia, a stamp-collector, an engager of lady-helps instead of servants, an amateur reciter and skirt dancer, an owner of a lock of Paderewski's hair torn fresh from the head personally at a concert an admirer of George Bernard Shaw as a thinker but a hater of him as a humourist, a rationalist and reader of Punch, an atheist and table-turner, a friend of all who think that women don't desire to be slaves, a homoeopathist and Sandowite, an enemy of babies as if all women didn't worship them! a lover of cats as if all women didn't hate one another! a "

M. Paderewski's colleague, the less malleable M. Dmowski, is reported to have said: "It is my desire to be quite sincere with you, gentlemen. Therefore I venture to submit that while you profess to have settled the matter on principle, you have not carried out that principle thoroughly. Doubtless by inadvertence.

It was while he was writing that Jane Brown had a sort of mental picture the shabby piano at home, kicked below by many childish feet, but mellow and sweet, like an old violin, and herself sitting practising, over and over, that part of Paderewski's Minuet where, as every one knows, the fingering is rather difficult, and outside the open window, leaning on his broom, worthless Johnny Fraser, staring in with friendly eyes and an extremely dirty face.