The subject of Pedaling is aptly explained by means of numerous illustrations.  The author deplores the misuse of the damper pedal, which can be made to ruin all the care and effort bestowed on phrasing and tonal effects by the fingers.  The fault can, in most cases, be traced to inattention to the sounds coming from the piano.

There are quotable paragraphs on every page, which in their sincerity and earnestness, their originality of expression, stamp themselves on the reader’s imagination.  Every teacher who is serious in his work and has the best interests of his pupils at heart, should read and ponder these pages.

XIII

HAROLD BAUER

THE QUESTION OF PIANO TONE

Buried deep in the heart of old Paris, in one of the narrow, busy thoroughfares of the city, stands the ancient house in which the master pianist, Harold Bauer, has made a home.

One who is unfamiliar with Paris would never imagine that behind those rows of uninviting buildings lining the noisy, commercial street, there lived people of refined and artistic tastes.  All the entrances to the buildings look very much alike—­they seem to be mere slits in the walls.  I stopped before one of the openings, entered and crossed a paved courtyard, climbed a winding stone stairway, rang at a plain wooden doorway, and was ushered into the artist’s abode.  Once within, I hardly dared to speak, lest what I saw might vanish away, as with the wave of a fairy’s wand.  Was I not a moment before down in that dusty, squalid street, and here I am now in a beautiful room whose appointments are all of quiet elegance—­costly but in exquisite taste, and where absolute peace and quiet reign.  The wide windows open upon a lovely green garden, which adds the final touch of restful repose to the whole picture.

Mr. Bauer was giving a lesson in the music salon beyond, from which issued, now and again, echoes of well-beloved themes from a Chopin sonata.  When the lesson was over he came out to me.

“Yes, this is one of the old houses, of the sort that are fast passing away in Paris,” he said, answering my remark; “there are comparatively few of them left.  This building is doubtless at least three hundred years old.  In this quarter of the city—­in the rue de Bac, for instance—­you may find old, forbidding looking buildings, that within are magnificent—­perfect palaces; at the back of them, perhaps, will be a splendid garden; but the whole thing is so hidden away that even the very existence of such grandeur and beauty would never be suspected from without.”

He then led the way to the music-room, where we had an hour’s talk.

[Illustration:  HAROLD BAUER]

“I was thinking as I drove down here,” I began, “what the trend of our talk might be, for you have already spoken on so many subjects for publication.  It occurred to me to ask how you yourself secure a beautiful tone on the piano, and how you teach others to make it?”