It was battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
Thought it sacrcely worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin,
But he held it up with a smile.
“What am I bidden, good folk?” he cried,
“Who’ll start the bidding for me?
“A dollar – a dollar – then two, only two -
“Two dollars, and who’ll make it three?
“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 the loosened strings,
He played a melody pure and …