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The Master's Hand
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"Twas battered and scared, and the auctioneer Thought it scarcely worth his while To waste much time on the old violin, But he held it up with a smile. "What am I bidden, good folks," he cried, "Who'll start bidding for me? A dollar, a dollar - now who"ll make it two Two dollars, and who"ll make it three? "Three dollars once, three dollars twice, Going for three". . . but no! From the room far back a gray-haired man Came forward and picked up the bow; Then wiping the dust from the old violin, And tightening up the strings, He played a melody,pure and sweet, As sweet as an angel sings. The music ceased and the auctioneer With a voice that was quiet and low, Said: "What am I bidden for the old violin?" And he held it up with the bow; "A thousand dollars - and who'll make it two?

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