He put it on the cloth and looked at it.

Then he took it up, and laid his chin on it like a man full of love, and drew the bow across just once.

He whirled away the bow, and knocked down our candle, and in the darkness I heard something snap and break with a hollow sound.

When I could see, he had broken it, the neck from the body--the dear old violin! I could cry still.

I--I was too late to save it.