were a dozen mouths to feed.  But we hear of him and Maria making music only in the evenings; his days were more profitably occupied.  It goes very much without saying that he was not rich—­in what age or clime are working wheelwrights rich?—­but he cannot be called poor.  Poverty is a comparative term; even to-day peasants feel its biting teeth only when they desert or are driven from their country-side, and make for the overcrowded towns.  Joseph, but for a few accidents, might have remained a peasant all his days, and never faced what he would consider hardship.  The first accident was his voice, which was undoubtedly of singular beauty; the second was an extraordinary musical aptitude, which led him to sing expressively and perfectly in tune the airs he heard his father and mother sing.  Mathias, by the way, accompanied himself on the harp; and Joseph, long before he had a fiddle of his own, imitated the fiddling of his elders with two bits of wood, so the family orchestra was complete.  The last accident was the arrival of one Frankh, a distant relative.  This was long before the magical feats of the baby Mozart had set every grasping parent staring for signs of musical precocity in his children.  But Mathias undoubtedly wanted to do his best for his boy, and Joseph himself must have had ambition of a sort—­witness his endeavours to play the fiddle without a fiddle to play—­and when Frankh undertook to place the boy in a choir and teach him music, the offer was joyfully accepted.  So he went to Hainburg, never to return to Rohrau until he was an old and celebrated man.

Nothing need be recorded of his life in Hainburg save that Frankh worked him hard.  Indeed, much later Haydn declared himself thankful to Frankh for forming in him the habit of working hard.  He sang, played the fiddle and harpsichord, and went to school; and suddenly one George Reutter came on the scene.  He came, heard, and was conquered by Haydn’s voice.  He was Hofcompositor and Kapellmeister at St. Stephen’s Church in Vienna, and he took the boy on the same terms as those on which Frankh had brought him away from Rohrau.  To Vienna Haydn went, was entered in the Cantorei of St. Stephen’s, and there for some years he sang in the choir.  In return he was taught reading, writing and arithmetic, religion and Latin.  He had excellent masters for singing and for violin and harpsichord; but he had no teaching in theory.  Reutter gave him only two lessons, and he was left without guidance to cover as much music-paper as he could get hold of.  But he stuck grimly to the task of making himself an efficient composer, and worked out his own salvation.  Reutter, having secured him for his voice, took no interest in him, and when the voice went Haydn had to go too.  That happened in 1745.  His brother Michael came, with a voice superior to Joseph’s; Joseph’s broke, and the Empress said his singing was like a cock’s crowing.  Michael sang a solo so beautifully as to win a present of 24 ducats, and since it was evident that the services of St. Stephen’s could go on without Joseph, Reutter waited for a chance of getting rid of Joseph.  So Joseph, though far from wishing to oblige, must needs play a practical joke, and was ignominiously spanked and turned out into the streets.