On our return [from the walk] we had dinner at two o’clock. It was a most curious one and so plentiful that dishes came in as we came out, for, unfortunately, we were rather in a hurry to get to the stage coach by four, it being the only one going to Vienna that evening. I overheard Beethoven say, “We will try how much the Englishman can drink.” _He_ had the worst of the trial. I gave him my diamond pin as a remembrance of the high gratification I received by the honour of his invitation and kind reception and he wrote me the following droll canon as fast as his pen could write in about two minutes of time as I stood at the door ready to depart. [Illustration: Ars longa vita brevis] “Written on the 16th of September, 1825, in Baden, when my dear talented musical artist and friend Smart (from England) visited me here. Ludwig van Beethoven.” [Sidenote: A VISITOR FROM AMERICA] Smart left Vienna on his return journey to London on September 20. Three months later Beethoven received a visit from one who must have raised more curious questionings in his mind than did the brilliant young Englishman. With Smart he had corresponded years before. Smart had produced his oratorio and his “Wellington’s Victory” in England and conducted the first performance in London of his Ninth Symphony; there were direct bonds of sympathy between them. The other visitor brought a message of appreciation from across the wide Atlantic. It was Theodore Molt, evidently a German or a man of German birth, who, a music teacher in Quebec, was making a European tour and gained the privilege of telling Beethoven to his face how greatly he admired him, then asked the favor of a souvenir which he could carry back on a journey of “3,000 hours” as a precious keepsake. For him, on December 16, Beethoven wrote the canon, “Freu dich des Lebens” (Ges. Aus. Series XXV, 285, 5).[143] To this period belongs an anecdote which is almost a parallel of one related by Zelter to Goethe. It was told[144] by Mittag, a bassoon player who had taken part in a performance of the Septet at a concert on December 11. Going home one evening, Mittag stepped into a tavern known as “Zum Dachs” to drink a glass of beer. Smoking was not allowed in the place and there were few guests. In a corner, however, sat Beethoven in the attitude of one lost in thought. After Mittag had watched him a few minutes he jumped up and called to the waiter: “My bill!” “Already paid!” shrieked the waiter in his ear. Mittag, thinking that Beethoven ought not to be left alone, followed him without betraying himself and saw him enter his house safely.