THE BELL RINGER

After Quasimodo's death, the Bishop of the Cathedral of Notre Dame

sent word through the streets of Paris that a new bell ringer 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

several applicants demonstrate their skills, he had decided to call it a
day


Just then, an armless man approached him and announced that he was

there to apply for the bell ringer's job.



The Bishop was incredulous. "You have no arms!"



"No matter," said the man. "Observe!." And he began striking the bells

with his face, producing a beautiful melody on the carillon.



The Bishop listened in astonishment; convinced he had finally found a

replacement for Quasimodo. But suddenly, rushing forward to strike a

bell, the armless man tripped and plunged headlong out of the belfry

window to his death in the street below. The stunned Bishop rushed to

his side.



When he reached the street, a crowd had gathered around the fallen

figure, drawn by the beautiful music they had heard only momentsmbefore.

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. "I don't know

his name...



...."but his face sure rings a bell"



WAIT! WAIT! There's more . . . DON'T DELETE YET!



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 bell ringer 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 honor his life by allowing me to
replace

him in this duty."



The Bishop agreed to give the man an audition, and, as the armless

man's brother stooped to pick up a mallet to strike the first bell, he

moaned, clutched at his chest, twirled around, and died on the spot.



The monks, hearing the Bishop's cries of grief at this second tragedy,

rushed up the stairs to his side.



"What has happened? Who is this man?" the first monk asked

breathlessly.



"I don't know his name," sighed the distraught Bishop, "but...







.. . . . Wait for it . . . .







.. . . . It's worth it . . . .







.. . . . Here it comes . . . .













"He's a dead ringer for his brother."