Do you remember the story of "The Hunchback of Notre
Dame"? Well, after Quasimodo's death, the bishop of the
Cathedral 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 just about decided to call it a day. But
just then, an armless man approached him and announced
that he was there to apply for the bell ringer's job.

Incredulously, the bishop blurted out, "But. . .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
man tripped and plunged headlong out of the belfry
window, falling 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."

{WAIT! WAIT! Not through yet}


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 word-of-the-day...), the
bishop continued his interviews for a new bell ringer 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? Who is this man?" the first monk
asked breathlessly.

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




"....but he's a dead ringer for his brother."