On walking through one of the back-streets I hear some showy pianoforte playing. 'Oho! Oho! that - that is no amateur, but a professional hand'. I pull the bell, and ask boldly if 'II Professore di Cembalo sia di casa?' 'Si, Signore,' is the answer, and I am soon conducted into a room, where a man of some thirty years of age is playing a Bravura Mazurka by Fumagalli, the beginning of which I had heard below; near the player sits a young Abbé. I make him understand by signs that I am anxious not to interrupt him. When he has finished, I ask, 'Will you give me lessons?' and he consents. He now plays Fumagalli's' 'Carnovale di Piu,' making all kinds of brilliant skips and octave passages; I repeatedly interrupt him with a 'bravissimo.'