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notre-dame-bellringer
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1998-07-26
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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
several applicants demonstrate their skills, he decided to call it a day,
when 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 on the carillon.
The bishop listened in astonishment, convinced that he had finally
found a suitable replacement for Quasimodo. 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 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."
(but wait, there's more...)
The following day, despite the sadness that weighed heavily on his heart,
due to the unfortunate death of the armless campanologist (now there's a
trivia question), 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 who 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
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."