When Ludwig was nine his father, regarding him with satisfaction and some pride, declared he could teach him no more—­and another master must be found.  Those childhood years of hard toil had resulted in remarkable progress, even with the sort of teaching he had received.  The circumstances of the family had not improved, for poverty had become acute, as the father became more and more addicted to drink.  Just at this time, a new lodger appeared, who was something of a musician, and arranged to teach the boy in part payment for his room.  Ludwig wondered if he would turn out to be a more severe taskmaster than his father had been.  The times and seasons when his instruction was given were at least unusual.  Tobias Pfeiffer, as the new lodger was called, soon discovered that father Beethoven generally spent his evenings at the tavern.  As an act of kindness, to keep his drunken landlord out of the way of the police, Tobias used to go to the tavern late at night and bring him safely home.  Then he would go to the bedside of the sleeping boy, and awake him by telling him it was time for practice.  The two would go to the living room, where they would play together for several hours, improvising on original themes and playing duets.  This went on for about a year; meanwhile Ludwig studied Latin, French, Italian and logic.  He also had organ lessons.

Things were going from bad to worse in the Beethoven home, and in the hope of bettering these unhappy conditions, Frau Beethoven undertook a trip through Holland with her boy, hoping that his playing in the homes of the wealthy might produce some money.  The tour was successful in that it relieved the pressing necessities of the moment, but the sturdy, independent spirit of the boy showed itself even then.  “The Dutch are very stingy, and I shall take care not to trouble them again,” he remarked to a friend.

The boy Ludwig could play the organ fairly well, as he had studied it with Christian Neefe, who was organist at the Court church.  He also could play the piano with force and finish, read well at sight and knew nearly the whole of Bach’s “Well Tempered Clavichord.”  This was a pretty good record for a boy of 11, who, if he went on as he had begun, it was said, would become a second Mozart.

Neefe was ordered to proceed with the Elector and Court to Muenster, which meant to leave his organ in Bonn for a time.  Before starting he called Ludwig to him and told him of his intended absence.  “I must have an assistant to take my place at the organ here.  Whom do you think I should appoint?” Seeing the boy had no inkling of his meaning, he continued:  “I have thought of an assistant, one I am sure I can trust,—­and that is you, Ludwig.”