Very often [he writes] the flies sit on my prominent nose—­ this, however, is of no consequence, it is the habit of these little animals.  The mosquitoes bite me—­this too, however, is of no consequence, for they don’t bite me in the nose.

The reader sees from this specimen of epistolary writing that Frederick is still a boy, and if I had given the letter in extenso, the boyishness would have been even more apparent, in the loose and careless style as well as in the frolicsome matter.

His letters to his people at home took on this occasion the form of a manuscript newspaper, called, in imitation of the “Kuryer Warszawski” ("Warsaw Courier"), “Kuryer Szafarski” ("Szafarnia Courier"), which the editor, in imitation of the then obtaining press regulation, did not send off until it had been seen and approved of by the censor, Miss Dziewanowska.  One of the numbers of the paper contains among other news the report of a musical gathering of “some persons and demi-persons” at which, on July 15, 1824, Mr. Pichon (anagram of Chopin) played a Concerto of Kalkbrenner’s and a little song, the latter being received by the youthful audience with more applause than the former.

Two anecdotes that relate to this stay at Szafarnia further exemplify what has already been said of Frederick’s love of fun and mischief.  Having on one of his visits to the village of Oberow met some Jews who had come to buy grain, he invited them to his room, and there entertained them with music, playing to them “Majufes.”

[Footnote:  Karasowski describes “Majufes” as a kind of Jewish wedding march.  Ph.  Lobenstein says that it means “the beautiful, the pleasing one.”  With this word opened a Hebrew song which dates from the time of the sojourn of the Jews in Spain, and which the orthodox Polish Jews sing on Saturdays after dinner, and whose often-heard melody the Poles imitate as a parody of Jewish singing.]

His guests were delighted—­they began to dance, told him that he played like a born Jew, and urged him to come to the next Jewish wedding and play to them there.  The other anecdote would be a very ugly story were it not for the redeeming conclusion.  Again we meet with one of the numerous, but by no means well-loved, class of Polish citizens.  Frederick, having heard that a certain Jew had bought grain from Mr. Romecki, the proprietor of Oberow, sent this gentleman a letter purporting to be written by the grain-dealer in question, in which he informed him that after reconsidering the matter he would rather not take the grain.  The imitation of the jargon in use among the Polish Jews was so good, and the spelling and writing so bad, that Mr. Romecki was taken in.  Indeed, he flew at once into such a passion that he sent for the Jew with the intention of administering to him a sound thrashing.  Only Frederick’s timely confession saved the poor fellow from his undeserved punishment.  But enough of Szafarnia, where the young scapegrace paid so long a holiday visit (from his letter to William Kolberg we learn that he would not see his friend for four weeks more), and where, judging from what has already been told, and also from a remark in the same letter, he must have “enjoyed himself pretty well.”  And now we will return to Warsaw, to Nicholas Chopin’s boarding-school.