itten by little Wolfgang were
written down by his father, and also the minuets he learned, and in the
book his father wrote after them:

"The preceding minuets were learnt by Wolfgang in his fourth year," and
further on we find the record:

"This minuet and trio Wolfgang learned in half an hour on the 26th day
of January, 1761, the day before his fifth birthday, at half-past nine
at night."

In his first composition the sense of perfect form is felt to a
remarkable degree, and the little book in which it was written down,
not only accompanied the family on their travels, but in it Wolfgang
also wrote down his first sonatas, published in 1763.

When he was not much over five years old, Wolfgang was chosen to take
the part of chorister in a Latin comedy which was given at the close of
the school year of the Salzburg Gymnasium, and among the one hundred
and fifty young people who took part in the entertainment one can
picture the charming little musical fellow as the great feature of the
occasion, and many stories were told at that time of his marvellous
sense of sound, and the ease with which he overcame every technical
difficulty. Meanwhile he learned to play on the violin, and could tell,
it is said, when one violin was an eighth of a tone lower than another.
Even games, to be interesting to him, had to be accompanied by music,
and a family friend in writing of him says: "If he and I carried
playthings from one room to another, the one who went empty-handed must
sing, and play a march on the violin as he walked."

On an evening when a number of violinists were gathered in the Mozart
home to play together, Wolfgang, who had recently been learning to play
the violin, begged to play with them. His father refused to let him,
and told him to run away, but the second violinist called him back,
saying:

"Never mind, little man; wipe away those tears and stand by me." So
close beside him stood the little chap, and presently all were
surprised to hear a clear, clean-cut tone coming from the child's
violin. His touch was so exquisite, his interpretation so masterly,
that presently the second violinist laid down his instrument and
listened breathlessly, while Wolfgang played on and on, forgetful of
everything but the magic spell of the music, and as his father
listened, his heart throbbed with pride and joy, and tears rolled down
his face, as he exclaimed:

"Little music-king thou art, my Wolferl, and thou shalt reign ove