--> "Quasimodo's Replacement" 
> 
> 
> 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 was there 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 listened in astonishment; 
> convinced he had finally found a replacement for 
> Quasimodo. But 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." 
> 
> 
> 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 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, 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..." 
> ...he's a dead ringer for his brother. 
> 
>