Beethoven was a hard worker. Strange to say, the greater part of his work was done after he became deaf. He often rose at three in the morning to write a concerto or a symphony. Sometimes he worked far into the night, composing a sonata or a serenade. His published works number several hundred pieces of music. The last years of the great master's life were sad. For a long time he had been unable to hear the notes of his loved piano. "He, the maker of sweet sounds, could not hear his own voice, or catch the words that fell from the lips of those he loved." During his last illness Beethoven found great comfort in reading music. A friend sent him some of Haydn's compositions. Beethoven passed many pleasant hours reading them. He found much comfort, too, in Schubert's _Songs_. Beethoven died in 1827. A few days before his death he said, "I shall soon go upon the long journey." His last words were, "I shall hear in heaven." THE MOONLIGHT SONATA (Adapted) It happened at Vienna. One moonlight evening, in early summer, a friend called upon Beethoven. He said, "Come, let us walk together in the moonlight." Arm in arm the two friends strolled through the city. In passing through a dark, narrow street, Beethoven paused suddenly. "Hush!" he said. "What sound is that? It is from my sonata in F. Hark, how well it is played!" It was a mean little dwelling before which the two friends paused to listen. The music went on. Almost at the end of the beautiful sonata, the music ceased, and low sobs were heard instead. A girl's soft voice said, "I can go no farther. It is too beautiful. I have not the power to play it as it should be played. Oh, what would I not give to go to one of Beethoven's concerts!" "Ah, my sister," said another voice, "why wish for that which you can not have? We can scarcely pay our rent." "You are right," answered the girl, "and yet I wish for once in my life to hear some really good music." "Such a wish will never be granted," said her companion. Beethoven looked at his friend. "Let us go in," he said. "Go in! Why should we go in?" "I will play for her," said the master, in a low tone. "This girl has the soul of a musician. I will play for her, and she will understand." Without waiting for an answer his hand was upon the door. As the two friends entered the room, they saw a pale young man sitting by a table making shoes. Near him sat a young girl. She was leaning sorrowfully upon an old-fashioned harpsichord. Her long golden hair fell over her neck and shoulders. Both the young man and the girl were very poorly dressed. Both started and turned toward the door as the strangers entered the room. "Pardon me," said Beethoven, "but I heard the music and was tempted to enter. I am a musician." The girl blushed, and the young man appeared annoyed. "I also heard something of what you said," continued Beethoven. "Shall I play for you? Shall I give you a concert?"