|Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer thought it scarcely worth his while to waste much time on the old violin, but held it up with a smile: gWhat am I bidden good folk,h he cried, gWhofll start the bidding for me?h gA dollar, a dollar;h then, gTwo!h gOnly two? Two dollars, and whofll make it three? Three dollars once, once; twice; going for three-h 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 the loose strings, he played a melody pure and sweet as a caroling angel sings.
The music ceased and the auctioneer with a voice that was quiet and low, said; gWhat am I bid for the old violin?h And he held it up with the bow, gA thousand dollars, and whofll make it two? Two thousand? And whofll make it three? Three thousand once, three thousand twice,. And going and gone,h said he. The people cheered and some of them cried.
gWe do not quite understand what changed its worth,h Swift came the reply: gThe touch of a masterfs hand.h
And many a man with life out of tune and battered and scarred with sin, is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd, much like the old violin, A mess of pottage a glass of wine; a game-and he travels on. He is ggoingh once and ggoingh twice, he's ggoingh and almost ggone.h but the Master comes and the foolish crowd never can quite understand the worth of a soul and the changes thatfs wrought but the touch of the Masters Hand!