For whom the bell tolls
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After Quasimodo's death, the bishop of the cathedral
of Notre Dame sent word through the streets of Paris
that a new bellringer was needed. The bishop decided
that he would conduct the interviews personally and
went up into the belfry to begin the screening process.
After observing while several applicants demonstrated
their skills, he decided to call it a day. Just then a
lone, armless man approached him and announced that he
was there to apply for the bellringer's job.
The bishop was incredulous. "You have no arms!"
"No matter," said the man, "observe!" He then began
striking the bells with his face, producing a beautiful
melody. The bishop listened in astonishment, convinced
that he had finally found a suitable replacementfor Quasimodo.
Suddenly, while rushing forward to strike the bell, the
armless man tripped and plunged headlong out of the belfry
window to his death in the street below. The stunned bishop
immediately rushed down the stairway. When he reached the
street, a crowd had gathered around the fallen figure, drawn
by the beautiful music they had heard only moments before.
As they silently parted to let the bishop through, one of them
asked,
"Bishop, who was this man?"
"I don't know his name," the bishop sadly replied, "but his
face rings a bell."
The following day, despite the sadness that weighed heavily
on his heart due to the unfortunate death of the armless
campanologist, the bishop continued his interviews for the
bellringer of Notre Dame. The first man to approach him said,
"Your excellency, I am the brother of the poor, armless wretch
that fell to his death from this very belfry yesterday. I pray
that you honour his life by allowing me to replace him in this
duty."
The bishop agreed to give the man an audition, but as the armless
man's brother stooped to pick up a mallet to strike the first
bell, he groaned, clutched at his chest and died on the spot.
Two monks, hearing the bishop's cries of grief at this second
tragedy, rushed up the stairs to his side.
"What has happened?" the first breathlessly asked, "Who is
this man?"
"I don't know his name," sighed the distraught bishop, "but
he's a dead ringer for his brother."
.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After Quasimodo's death, the bishop of the cathedral
of Notre Dame sent word through the streets of Paris
that a new bellringer was needed. The bishop decided
that he would conduct the interviews personally and
went up into the belfry to begin the screening process.
After observing while several applicants demonstrated
their skills, he decided to call it a day. Just then a
lone, armless man approached him and announced that he
was there to apply for the bellringer's job.
The bishop was incredulous. "You have no arms!"
"No matter," said the man, "observe!" He then began
striking the bells with his face, producing a beautiful
melody. The bishop listened in astonishment, convinced
that he had finally found a suitable replacementfor Quasimodo.
Suddenly, while rushing forward to strike the bell, the
armless man tripped and plunged headlong out of the belfry
window to his death in the street below. The stunned bishop
immediately rushed down the stairway. When he reached the
street, a crowd had gathered around the fallen figure, drawn
by the beautiful music they had heard only moments before.
As they silently parted to let the bishop through, one of them
asked,
"Bishop, who was this man?"
"I don't know his name," the bishop sadly replied, "but his
face rings a bell."
The following day, despite the sadness that weighed heavily
on his heart due to the unfortunate death of the armless
campanologist, the bishop continued his interviews for the
bellringer of Notre Dame. The first man to approach him said,
"Your excellency, I am the brother of the poor, armless wretch
that fell to his death from this very belfry yesterday. I pray
that you honour his life by allowing me to replace him in this
duty."
The bishop agreed to give the man an audition, but as the armless
man's brother stooped to pick up a mallet to strike the first
bell, he groaned, clutched at his chest and died on the spot.
Two monks, hearing the bishop's cries of grief at this second
tragedy, rushed up the stairs to his side.
"What has happened?" the first breathlessly asked, "Who is
this man?"
"I don't know his name," sighed the distraught bishop, "but
he's a dead ringer for his brother."
.
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