On Thursday, March 29, 1827, the people of Vienna flooded into the streets. They came to pay their respects to Ludwig van Beethoven, the great composer, who had died three days earlier.
At three o'clock in the afternoon nine priests blessed the coffin, and the funeral procession left Mr. Beethoven's house for the church. So dense were the crowds that the one-block journey took an hour and a half.
I wasn't in Vienna on that famous day. I was a student of music in Salzburg at the time. But, if you had looked carefully, you might have spotted in the crowd a little boy with a serious face. He is Christoph, my nephew, and there was a time when he came to know Mr. Beethoven quite well.
It was not a happy time in Christoph's life. He was only ten years old, and his father had recently died.
The first of Christoph's letters arrived at my door in the autumn of 1822. I was surprised that he had written. I had not seen my nephew for some years. . .
7 September 1822
Dear Uncle,
I hope you will remember me. It is Christoph, your nephew, who writes. As to the reasons, I will not keep you in suspense. I write, Uncle, because something terrible has happened. A madman has moved into our house.
Do you remember that when Father died, Mother decided to rent out his office upstairs? Well, she has done it, and Ludwig van Beethoven has moved in.
Every morning at dawn Mr. Beethoven begins to make his dreadful noise upstairs. Loud poundings and howling come through the door. They are like the sounds of an injured beast. All morning Mr. Beethoven carries on this way. After lunch he storms into the street. He comes home, sometimes long after the house is quiet for the night, tracking mud and stamping his way up the stairs about our heads.
Mother says I mustn't blame him. He's deaf and can't hear the noise he makes. But he wakes up the twins, and they start their crying. They cry all day.
Uncle, I must make this one request, I beg you to tell my mother to send Mr. Beethoven away.
Your nephew,
Christoph
22 November 1822
My dear Christoph,
Today I have returned home from a visit away to find three of your letters waiting. Christoph, I will admit that Mr. Beethoven does not seem to be an easy guest.
Perhaps I can help, though, by saying that as strange as Mr. Beethoven seems, there are reasons for the way he acts.
They say he is working on a symphony. And so, all day long, he is hearing his music in his head. He doesn't think, perhaps, how very strange he sometimes seems to us.
Tomorrow I am leaving Salzburg again and traveling with friends to Bonn, the city where Mr. Beethoven was born. I know I will find something to tell you about and I will be sure to write on my return.
Uncle Karl
From Beethoven Lives Upstairs by Barbara Nichol. Text copyright © 1993 by Classical Productions for Children Limited.
A. noun
B. verb
C. preposition
D. adjective
A. He was a great church man.
B. Many people still read his books.
C. He was a great composer.
D. Christoph wrote letters about him.
A. old.
B. clever.
C. deaf.
D. important.
A. Christoph wanted to help his uncle.
B. He wanted his uncle’s help.
C. He did not have any friends.
D. Bonn was his favorite city.
A. humorous
B. serious
C. sarcastic
D. cheerful
A. the body.
B. the greeting.
C. the heading.
D. the closing.
letter. What does the word dreadful mean?
A. hopeful
B. careful
C. awful
D. helpful
A. The twins cry all day.
B. He misses Bonn, his hometown.
C. The weather bothers him.
D. He is working on a symphony.