That Beethoven took a friendly interest in other love-affairs besides his own is shown by an incident taking place in Toeplitz, where the actor, Ludwig Loewe, was in love with the landlord's daughter of the "Blue Star," at which Beethoven used to dine. Conversation was usually impossible because of stern parents and a multitude of diners. "Come at a later hour," said the girl; "only Beethoven is here, and he cannot hear." This answered for a time, but at length the parents forbade the actor the house. Despite Beethoven's serious reserve, Loewe had often noticed a kindly smile on his face, and now resolved to trust him. Finding the composer in the park, he begged him to take charge of a letter for the girl. Satisfied with the honesty of the young man's intentions, Beethoven did this, and next day brought back the answer, keeping up his role of messenger during the whole of the five weeks that he remained in the town. Franz Peter Schubert was a true son of Vienna. Sprung from the lower classes, he never felt wholly at ease among the aristocracy, and made no such deep impression upon them as Beethoven did. He was most at home in the informal society of his few chosen friends, all men of talent in some direction, whom he drew about him by his own genius and good-fellowship. His very nickname, "Kanner-was," taken from his usual question about newcomers, bears witness to the fact that he would have nothing to do with any one who did not show intellectual ability in some direction,--poetry or art, if not music. Schubert's brief schooling, where his natural gifts were left to flourish by themselves, was succeeded by three years of musical drudgery in the shape of school-teaching. But his genius was restless, and he threw up that post. How he existed during the next few years is a complete mystery. He lived for a while rent-free, and his wants were never many, but for some time he apparently got along with no income whatever. His fertility in composing songs showed itself already. His later feat of writing "Hark, Hark, the Lark" on the back of a bill of fare, finishing it within half an hour of his first seeing the poem, is well known. It seems that he could forget as easily as he invented. At one time he sent a set of songs to his friend Vogl for inspection, but the latter was unable to look them over for two weeks. On finding one of especial interest, Vogl had it transposed to suit his voice, and gave it to Schubert to play. The composer, after trying it, cried in admiration: "I say, that's not bad; whose is it?"