[blue jammer]

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 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 . . ..)



















He's a dead ringer for his brother.