The Bell-Ringer of Notre DameAfter Quasimodo's death, the bishop of the
Cathedral of Notre Dame sent 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 belfry to begin the screening process. After observing several
applicants demonstrate their skills, he had decided to call it a day - when 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 suitable replacement for
Quasimodo. But suddenly, rushing forward to strike a bell, the armless tripped
and plunged headlong out of the belfry window to his death in 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 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."
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The following day, despite the sadness that weighed heavily on his heart 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 fell to his
death from this very belfry yesterday. I pray that you honor life by allowing me
to replace him in this duty." The bishop agreed to the man an audition, and, as
the armless man's brother stooped to pick mallet to strike the first bell, he
groaned, clutched at his chest and 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? Who is this man?" first monk asked
breathlessly. "I don't know his name," sighed the distraught bishop,
{WAIT! WAIT! Not through yet}
"but he's a dead ringer for his brother."