When little Wolfgang saw tears glistening in his sister’s eyes and noticed her manifest grief, it came over him all at once that he had behaved improperly. Thoroughly surprised, he was at her side in an instant. He gently pulled at her dress and softly said: “Don’t be angry, dear Nannerl, I beg of you. Little Wolfgang has been naughty, but he will not do so again. Only don’t be angry, my dear, darling Nannerl.” He begged so piteously, appeared so thoroughly contrite, and raised his little clasped hands so imploringly to his sister, that she could not remain offended. She turned a kindly face to him, and Wolfgang was not slow in noticing it. “Now you are again my good Nannerl, and you have forgiven me,” he loudly exclaimed, as he put up his mouth to her. “Well, this shall be overlooked,” said his sister, as she lovingly kissed her brother’s little lips, “but don’t make any more trouble. I will quickly rub it all out, so that mother will never know how naughty you have been.” Little Wolfgang sat quietly by while Nannie rubbed out the chalk-marks with nimble hands. In a few minutes everything was again clean and orderly, and Wolfgang embraced her, and over and over again called her his “dear, good Nannerl.” “You are a good-for-nothing,” she replied, half laughing, half angry, “but I cannot help being good to you because you have a good heart; but don’t play any more of your silly tricks, for your father will soon be here, and then you must recite your little piece. Can you do it now?” “Oh, yes, every line of it,” he answered. “I guess papa will be astonished for once. Listen.” At that instant the house door opened, men’s voices were heard in the hall, and soon Vice Chapelmaster Leopold Mozart entered with some of his friends. Wolfgang joyously flew to him and embraced him. “God greet you, father,” he cried. “I congratulate you a thousand times on your birthday.” “Thank you, thank you, my little one,” replied Father Mozart, kissing him. “Do you love your father very much?” “Yes, father,” said Wolfgang, looking at him with beaming eyes, “I love you very, very much, and, do you know, after the dear God comes my dear, good papa.” “This greatly pleases me, little fellow. Keep both in your heart as long as you live and all will be well with you,” said Father Mozart, with great emotion, as he laid his hand in blessing upon the child’s curly head. The mother and sister also entered and offered their congratulations. While this was going on little Wolfgang mounted the stool, struck an attitude, and recited his little address, not only correctly and in good voice, but with heartfelt emotion. It ran thus: