d several pet names,
amongst them the 'Tyrant,' from his affectionate persecution of young
Huettenbrenner, who in return lavished upon him the affection of a
slave for his idol. They were all boisterous, merry, life-loving
spirits, venting their feelings in howls, repartees, sham-fights, and
mock-concerts--there is even a story of their 'performing' the 'Erl
King,' with Schubert himself accompanying them on a tooth-comb! The
change from this unconventional life to the aristocratic surroundings
of Zelesz was therefore immense; yet Schubert was not unhappy. The
family were musical, the comforts were undeniable, and the duties not
so heavy as to preclude his enjoying a considerable amount of leisure
for composition.

At Zelesz he heard for the first time many of the national Hungarian
melodies sung or played by the gypsies, or by the servants at the
castle, and their beauty seems to have been impressed upon his memory
by the beautiful country in which he took his rambles. Later on he was
to give these airs an artistic setting in the shape of his 'First
Waltzes.' Of one of his pieces--the 'Divertissement a la
hongroise'--it is told that returning late one afternoon from a walk,
he lingered beside the open window of the kitchen, in order to listen
to the air which was being sung by the kitchen-maid within as she
leaned against the fireplace. He wrote frequent letters to his
friends--his home circle--whom he addresses as his 'dearest, fondest
friends, Spaun, Schober, Mayrhofer, and Senn--you who are everything
to me.' He entreats them to write soon: 'Every syllable of yours is
dear to me.' Nobody is overlooked or forgotten, for his messages
include 'all possible acquaintances.' As for himself, he speaks of his
happiness and good health, and tells them that he 'is composing like a
god.' As regards his duties, he describes himself as 'composer,
manager, audience, everything in one.' 'No one here,' he says in
another letter, 'cares for true art, unless it be now and then the
Countess, so I am left alone with my beloved, and have to hide her in
my room, or my piano, or my own breast. If this often makes me sad, on
the other hand it often elevates me all the more. Several songs have
lately come into existence, and I hope very successful ones.' Of his
relations with the family he says: 'The Count is a little rough; the
Countess proud, but not without heart; the young ladies good children.
I need not tell you, who know me so well,