southend4ever
I used to play a little.
An old one but a good one ......
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 wanted 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
was astounded & cried out you are marvellous the jobs yours.
But suddenly, rushing forward to strike a bell again the armless man
tripped and plunged headlong out of the belfry window to his death in
the street below.
The stunned bishop rushed down to be at 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,
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"but his face rings a bell"
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WAIT! 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, 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 honour 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, twirled around, 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..."
( . . . Wait for it . . .. )
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( .. . . It's worth it . . ..)
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He's a dead ringer for his brother.
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 wanted 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
was astounded & cried out you are marvellous the jobs yours.
But suddenly, rushing forward to strike a bell again the armless man
tripped and plunged headlong out of the belfry window to his death in
the street below.
The stunned bishop rushed down to be at 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,
*
( scroll down )
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
"but his face rings a bell"
*
WAIT! 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, 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 honour 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, twirled around, 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..."
( . . . Wait for it . . .. )
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
( .. . . It's worth it . . ..)
*
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*
*
*
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He's a dead ringer for his brother.