He was always writing music to sell to try and make money. Ruthless music publishers would buy songs, have them copied by hand, and sell them so people could play them at home. (Remember, they didn't have radios and CDs). Musicians were paid according to the demand for their songs.

Occasionally, Wolfgang would sell a composition to a publisher for a good price or he would get an order to write an opera. Then he would have plenty of money. . . . . . for a while.

(Sometimes he burned his furniture to keep warm.)

He wasn't getting enough sleep and he would get back aches from sitting at the piano all day. Finally, his doctor told him that he would have to get out and get some exercise.

So Wolfgang would get together with friends and play billiards...

...or go play Nine Pins.

He loved to play these games so much, that sometimes it seemed he wasn't writing enough music for the people who had commissioned it.

But the music was always working itself out in his head. All he needed to do was stop and write it down, which he would do while he waited for his turn.