My father was an intelligent master craftsman2. Though his gift didn't bring him any fame or fortune, his zest3 for the violin making had never been worn away. One day in an odorous, dirty sty he discovered a wedge of spruce, which is light and strong---perfect for the violin. Joyfully4, he trade a packed of food for it with the puzzled countryman. After three weeks' hard work, my sister and I were born into this world. My father couldn't afford the expensive varnish5 for us. But I can assure you, plain as we are, we are the first-class violins with the hypnotic sound you've never heard!
How long did I take in the shelf to wait for my master coming up? Two years, three years? Memory puzzles herself to reply this question. Besides, I always fell confused about the time in human's world. But it's definitely a long, long time. All I can recall about that is many, many people have passed by without even offering me a glance. How helpless unattractive I am! Finally I got a terrible feeling that my master perhaps would never show up, and my beautiful voice would be buried forever without even a chance to be heard.
colourless and gloomy. Like a dream a little girl, probably 6 years old, suddenly came up to me. For some reason, her beautiful eyes looked so empty and sad. But she was actually looking at me! Excited, my long lost hope rose up. I hold my breath, dreading6 to freight her away. Her mother came up and asked softly: Are you sure? The little girl cast her eyes down to the floor, she answered in an almost unread voice: Yeah. I cried for this single word. It sounded like a word from the heaven. At last, I found my master! Thousands words I tried to say, thousands questions I'd like to ask: Is she a good player? What kind of music is her favourite? She reached her hands for me. Her fingeres felt so cold! Oddly, she didn't give a try on me like most other masters would do. Lowering her head, she followed her mother out of store and down to the street. Few minutes later, with my excitement for the future calming down, I soon realized there was something wrong. My little master was obviously deeply troubled and upset. She grasped me tighter and tighter with her little fingers. She was fighting hardly a urge to cry but failed. Tears swelled7 up to her eyes.