At last the man's work was finished. Pine Tree had been made into a wonderful musical instrument—a violin. The man took a bow and drew it across the strings, and as he did so he smiled and nodded his head, for the music was very sweet. The violin, which had once been Pine Tree, and then part of a ship, and the ridge-pole of the cottage and the barn, seemed to sing to the man the songs of the forest, the songs of the ocean, the songs of the home, and the songs of the lowly barn.
One day the man put the violin in a case and took it away on a long journey. When the case was opened, the violin saw that they were in a strange hall full of people, and many of them were talking of this man—the violin-maker.
The man lifted the violin from the case and went out upon a large platform before the people, and began playing for them. He seemed to say to the violin, "Sing for me," and as he drew the bow across the strings the violin sang. It sang to the people, first the very songs that the tall pines sang in the forest. The song changed, and the lap of the waters, and the dip of the oar could be heard as on a moonlight summer night; then the angry wind and the dash of the waves could be heard as in a fierce storm. Slowly this song died, and everything was quiet. Then, after a little while, the faraway sound of children's voices—their laughter and singing—was heard, and then came the sweet lullaby to the sleepy babes.
These songs all died away, and the violin sang the songs of the birds in the summer-time, and the lowing of cattle, and the bleating of sheep in the cold winter-time.
At last the violin could sing no longer the songs it knew, but a new song came forth which was also very beautiful, and which caused the people to bend forward and listen with eager faces, for it was the song that came from the heart of the old man who was master of the violin.
A CHRISTMAS STORY
It was so long ago that the whole world has forgotten the date and even the name of the little town in which lived a little boy whose name was Hans.
Little Hans lived with his aunt, who was quite an old lady. She was not always kind to Hans, but this made no difference to him. He loved her just the same, and forgot that she was ever cross and very unkind to him at times.