“Now,” whispered Telemann to his friends, “listen to those fellows confessing their sins!” The rehearsal began, and from all throats came, like a tremendous wailing, “We—we—we know nothing—nothing—nothing—we know nothing—know nothing—no”—until at last, the whole company having shouted away for dear life—without suspecting anything wrong—was awakened from their dream, by shouts of laughter from Telemann and his friends. Then there was general consternation, the poor organist stood completely crushed. “To be sure, this does not sound very well, gentlemen,” said Telemann, and to comfort the crestfallen organist he drew from his pocket another small cantata, which he and his friends rendered at the church. A Lucrative Position Goldmark, the composer of “The Queen of Saba,” while traveling one day, found himself in a railway _coupé_ with a strange lady. A conversation was soon started, and the composer introduced himself with these words: “I am Goldmark, the composer of The Queen of Saba.” “Ah,” replied the lady, who was not much versed in musical or theatrical matters, “that must be a very lucrative position.” Ludwig van Beethoven Beethoven’s parents had him instructed in music at a very early age. When he was only eight years old he played the violin so well as to astonish all his hearers. In the little room under the roof, where he practiced, he noticed one day a very large spider, leaving her web and coming close to him to listen. By and by she grew so tame, that she came and sat first on his desk, then on the artist, and finally made herself at home on the arm which held the bow. Her interest spurred on the boy to do his best, and helped not a little in his progress. One day, his aunt, who filled his mother’s place, came into the little room, bringing a friend who wished to hear the boy play. As he began, the spider came from her corner and settled upon his arm. The aunt seeing the insect, pounced upon her, and crushed her under her foot. Beethoven, horror-stricken at his comrade’s fate, fell fainting to the floor. He Beat the Emperor Once while at court, Beethoven forgot himself so far as to beat the time on the back of Emperor Francis. The monarch was not the least angry, and often said smilingly, that one of his subjects had beaten him, without being punished for it. Brains Versus an Estate Beethoven’s younger brother had, by extreme economy, saved enough to purchase a country estate. One time he sent to his famous brother, just to anger him, a New Year’s card with: “Johann van Beethoven, possessor of a country estate;” to which polite action, he received the answer: “Ludwig van Beethoven, possessor of brains.” Forgot to Eat