During her pianoforte lessons, I used to stand, mouth and ears wide open, by the upper C (the extreme limit of the little instrument), watching how my sister worked her way through the little pieces, which she never thoroughly mastered. When by myself I had tried to spell out these same pieces, it seemed to me anything but a difficult matter. My sister's clumsy playing was trying to my temper, and on one occasion I forgot myself so far as to call out, 'Dear me, how stupid! I could do it better myself.'