Daily Bread
Sunday, July 13, 2008
The Touch of the Master's Hand'Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer thought is scarcely worth is while to waste much time on the old violin, But held it up with a smile.
"What am I bidden, good folks," he cried,
"Who will start the bidding for me? A dollar, a dollar"--then, "Two" "Only two?
Two dollars once, 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 loose strings,
He played a melody pure and sweet
As sweet as a caroling 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?
Two thousand! And who'll make it three?
Three thousand once, three thousand, twice; And going, and gone! said he.
The people cheered, but some of them cried,
"We do not quite understand what changed its worth?"
Swift came the reply: "The touch of the master's hand."