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Perhaps the greatest basso the stage has known was Lablache. He was a very tall and powerfully built man, with a head which was said to be the "finest that ever decorated a human body." His voice was powerful beyond description, yet was subject to the most complete control; and withal Lablache could enjoy a joke.

He happened to be in Paris at the same time as Tom Thumb, he of the minute proportions. One day a Frenchman from the rural districts, having come to town for the express purpose of seeing the "General," asked of a wag the way to Tom's stopping place. This joker, instead of giving the diminutive general's address, gave that of Lablache. Hastening to the address given, the rustic rang the bell and was confronted by Lablache himself. The amazed visitor stood confounded, but managed to gasp: "A thousand pardons, Monsieur, there must be a mistake. I hoped to see Tom Thumb."

Lablache immediately saw the point and replied gravely: "Sir, there is no mistake, I am Tom Thumb!"

"But—how—I—Tom—why! I thought Tom Thumb was very small!"

"Yes, yes; before the public I am small, very small, indeed—only so tall," holding his hand two feet from the floor; "but here at home," raising himself to his full height and sending out his voice in full, deep tones, "here at home I sing and take my ease."

The Frenchman departed full of wonder and satisfaction.  

Moscheles, the virtuoso, composer, and teacher, had one fault that we must say was not confined to him alone. In teaching he used frequently to forget the purpose for which the pupil was present, and instead of