Argosy (UK), January 1955 — page 109: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ae Oe TWELVE BELLS 107 night, for the carols. Half past seven in the church hall. He said to tell you.” George nodded and fidgeted, turned away and came back. He said, “ Look, will you ask him to hang they bells up tonight? ” “ Hang em up where? ” “ Any place. Hooks or something. I just—” George withered under Albert’s wife’s surprise. He said feebly, “‘ I were reading a book about bells. It says while the straps are new they ought to hang.”’ “Oh, all right,” said Albert’s wife. “‘ I'll tell him.” Her placid acceptance emboldened George to add more firmly, “ It’s important.” “IT won’t forget.” Once in the night George woke up, from disquiet or newly- acquired habit. He waited anxiously and hopefully to see if he had a ringing in his ears, a stomach-ache, or any other en- couraging dyspeptic sign, but there was nothing. He felt bothered but perfectly well. Rain dripped from the thatch, his ‘clock ticked, his wife breathed, a goose stirred and cried with previsianary unease in its sleep; that was all. He sighed and turned over. It was still raining when he went to the practice. He started early, knowing that Albert, a fusser, would be early too. The rain was cold and heavy, and he splashed through it in oilskins and gumboots, arriving to drip in rivulets on the church hall’s dusty boards. The peal was arranged on a table at the far end, and Albert was looking through carol-sheets. He said, ““ What’s this about hanging bells up? ” “IT got a book from the libery,” said George. On church premises, he felt, he should stick as close to the truth as possible, and this, though the book was on repairing wirelesses, was in fact true. “T never heard tell that, about straps,”’ said Albert disbeliev- ingly. “There’s things as you haven’t heard, I dare say. Did you hang ’em up?” ‘“Can’t make head nor tail why us should,” said Albert, “ but seeing as you was so keen, yes, I did.” “Did you—”’ said George, and stopped. He shied from a direct question; he knew Albert was a light sleeper, always moaning about they owls and cockerels and Sam Collis’s dratted motor bike, and it seemed likely nothing had happened, but he had to know. He descended to guile, and said, ‘* | were thinking you looked a bit off colour, when I come in.”’ comiclooks.comnn