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Updated: July 1, 2025
He still felt the effects of it, his chest rose and fell tumultuously oh, what a pleasure it was to swing a girl round in his arm like that. Wonderful! Everything was wonderful. Wolfgang trembled inwardly with untamed animal spirits, and clenched his teeth so as not to draw people's attention to him by means of a loud, triumphant shout.
His children's musical gifts induced the father to turn them to advantage, both to supply the family needs and to provide the children a broad education in music. He determined to travel with the children. A first experiment in January, 1762, had proved so successful that the following September they set out for Vienna. Wolfgang was now six years old and Marianne eleven.
Frau Schlieben was approaching the door with quick steps. Oh dear! A few quick bounds brought her behind a bush: did she intend fetching her Wolfgang herself to-day? Oh, then she would have to go. And she stole away to the station, full of grief. The joy that had made her heart beat had all disappeared; but she still had one consolation: Wolfgang would not forget her. No, never!
"He'll do better with a master," said her husband, consolingly. And it was better, although it could not exactly be termed "good." Wolfgang was not lazy, but his thoughts were always wandering. Learning did not interest him. He had other things to think about: would the last leaves in the garden have fallen when he got home from school at noon?
They could not be driven away, they would wait there patiently until Wolfgang joined them. "He's like a brother to my Hans," the coachman used to say, and he would greet him with a specially condescending flick of his whip from his high seat.
And what joy it would be to teach them both. It was a happy household that retired that night. Nannerl was happy because she at last had the chance to take piano lessons. Wolfgang, little "Starbeam," dreamed of the wonderful Goddess of Music, who carried him away to fairyland which was filled with beautiful music.
Wolfgang and his sister, Nannerl, as he used to call her, had been taken by their father, in 1762, to Vienna, where the children played the piano before the Empress Maria Theresa and her husband. Little Wolfgang was here, as everywhere, perfectly at his ease, with a simplicity and childish grace that won every heart.
Wolfgang's father knows very well what the boy is to him and where he got him from. And if the lady is satisfied with it, no one else has a word to say about it." Wolfgang stared at the gossip. "The boys say Lisbeth said and now you say you too" he jumped up "I'll go and ask them." He pointed with his finger as though pointing at something at a great distance of which he knew nothing.
Wolfgang and the Schafberg, an isolated mountain on whose rocky horn an inn has been built. It stands up almost like a bird-house on a pole, and commands a superb prospect; northward, across the rolling plain and the Bavarian forest; southward, over a tumultuous land of peaks and precipices.
As there was nothing on the table but a covered silver dish, Wolfgang thought that the lady who proposed such a multiplicity of delicacies to him was only laughing at him; so he determined to try her with something extremely rare. "Fair princess," he said, "I should like very much a pork-chop and some mashed potatoes."
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