This story is no invention of mine. I could not invent anything half so lovely and pathetic as seems to me the incident which has come ready-made to my hand.
ld hear, in the pauses of the winter wind, faintly and doubtfully somewhere in the distance, the sound of the little violin.
Ah, that little violin!--a cherished relic now. Perhaps it plays soft, plaintive airs all by itself, in the place where it is kept, missing the touch of the baby fingers which used to waken it into life!
End of Project Gutenberg's The Little Violinist, by Thomas Bailey Aldrich
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A rather sad short story about a child violinist, told from the point of view from a father who greatly loves his sons.
A beautiful story of raising children, and the tender condition of a child's spirit. A short but insightful read.