order that she might instruct
the 'apprentices' at her husband's dancing-school. Another
performer was Mrs. Namby, who entertained Mr. Pickwick with
solos on a square piano while breakfast was being prepared. When
questioned by David Copperfield as to the gifts of Miss Sophy
Crewler, Traddles explained that she knew enough of the piano
to teach it to her little sisters, and she also sang ballads to
freshen up her family a little when they were out of spirits,
but 'nothing scientific.' The guitar was quite beyond her. David
noted with much satisfaction (though he did not say so) that
his Dora was much more gifted musically.

When Dickens wrote his earlier works it was not considered
the correct thing for a gentleman to play the piano, though
it might be all very well for the lower classes and the music
teacher. Consequently we read of few male performers on the
instrument. Mr. Skimpole could play the piano, and of course
Jasper had a 'grand' in his room at Cloisterham.

At one time, if we may believe the turnkey at the Marshalsea
prison, William Dorrit had been a pianist, a fact which raised
him greatly in the turnkey's opinion.

Brought up as a gentleman, he was, if ever a man was.
Educated at no end of expense. Went into the Marshal's
house once to try a new piano for him. Played it,
I understand, like one o'clock--beautiful.

In the _Collected Papers_ we have a picture of the 'throwing
off young gentleman,' who strikes a note or two upon the piano,
and accompanies it correctly (by dint of laborious practice)
with his voice. He assures

a circle of wondering listeners that so acute was his
ear that he was wholly unable to sing out of tune,
let him try as he would.

Mr. Weller senior laid a deep plot in which a piano was to
take a prominent part. His object was to effect Mr. Pickwick's
escape from the Fleet.

Me and a cab'net-maker has dewised a plan for
gettin' him out. 'A pianner, Samivel, a pianner,'
said Mr. Weller, striking his son on the chest with
the back of his hand, and falling back a step or two.

'Wot do you mean?' said Sam.

'A pianner-forty, Samivel,' rejoined Mr. Weller, in a
still more mysterious manner, 'as he can have on hire;
vun as von't play, Sammy.'

'And wot 'ud be the good of that?' said Sam.

'There ain't no vurks in it,' whispered his father. 'It
'ull hold him easy, vith his hat and shoes on; and
brea