The Death of Quasimodo

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

bellringers 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."

Part II

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 for you), 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 that 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 monk 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