The pianist's route took him from San Francisco to Oakland, San José, and Portland, Oregon. To make certain that he always will have a fine instrument to play on, a method of shipping ahead the instruments not in use is adopted. Thus, while he was playing on No. 1 in San Francisco and Oakland, No. 2 was sent on to San José and No. 3 to Portland. Of course, none but an expert could detect the slightest difference in these pianofortes, but a player like Paderewski is sensitive to the most delicately balanced distinctions or nuances in tone and action. One of his idiosyncrasies is that always before going on he asks the "doctor" which of the three instruments is on the stage, because, as he himself expresses it, "I don't want to meet a stranger." After each concert, at supper, this conversation invariably takes place:
Paderewski: "Well, 'Doctor,' it sounded all right to-night, didn't it?"
Paderewski: "Well, then, please pass me the bread."
There never has been occasion to record what would happen if the "doctor" were to say, "No, sir." For he always has been able to answer in the affirmative, with the most scrupulous regard for veracity.
Paderewski is as careful to play his best in the least important place in which he gives a concert as he is in New York. This high sense of duty toward his public accounts in part for his supremacy among pianists Paderewski is not a mere virtuoso. He is a man of fine intellectual gifts who plays the piano like a poet. Paul Potter, the playwright, who lives in Geneva, Switzerland, and occasionally has dined there with Paderewski, tells me that he has conversed with the pianist on almost every conceivable subject _except music_ and always found him remarkably well informed. His knowledge of the history of his native land, Poland, and of its literature is said to be quite wonderful. Chopin, also a Pole, he idolizes and regards as far and away the greatest composer for the piano. To the fund for the Chopin memorial at Warsaw he contributes by charging one dollar for his autograph, and two dollars for his signature and a few bars of music. From the money received as the proceeds of one season's autographs he was able to remit about $1,300 to the fund.