Argosy (UK), January 1955 — page 110: what you’re looking at

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

108 MARGARET BONHAM “Funny,” said Albert, “‘ I were just thinking same about you.” George was struck dumb by this. The other four ringers saved him from having to answer; dripping, a little gloomy, not yet fired by Christmas spirit, they came stamping in to be received with a sour glance from Albert and a pointed scrutiny of the clock, which showed two minutes after the half-hour. Oilskins removed and noses blown and the new peal admired, the practice began. “‘ Us’ll try ’em out,” said Albert, standing at the head of the table. “‘ First Nowell.” George picked up 5 and 6, the ones he always rang. The straps were stiff and unyielding, but he felt the lovely balance of the bells themselves in every muscle of his arms. He smiled with anticipation. ‘The first six notes were purest delight, he caught his breath with pleasure at the sound; his left-hand bell came in at the seventh, and his breath caught once more. So did everyone else’s: this time, with horror. Albert groaned. “ Cracked.” “Don’t be daft,”’ said George, now breathing hard. ‘‘ How could it be cracked? Ferring’s would have told us, wouldn’t they?” “Try it again.” George tried it again. It made the same sound. He rang his No. 6 bell. It was a caricature of the note above. Albert gave a sort of moan. “Let’s have a look,” said George’s neighbour. “’Tisn’t sense, that isn’t.” They crowded round the bells, turning them over and over, peering at them; the metal shone in flawless curves. Someone said facetiously, ‘‘ I reckon you’m out of practice, George.” ‘*T reckon he is that,” said George’s neighbour, and he picked up the No. 5 bell and tossed out of it a note as exquisite as a blackbird’s. They all laughed, though not quite easily, except George, who went extremely pale. He took up the first six bells one after the other and rang them in turn, and none of them would sound for him more than a metallic croak. The crippled echoes rever- berated and died. A total silence fell. “I know what ’twas,”’ said George at last, hoarse and sweating. “I weren’t dreaming. I hung ’em on the dresser and they rang in the night, two nights, just afore three o’clock. I d’know what I done, but they bells got it in for me. That’s what.” “Don’t talk daft,” they said, but they avoided his eyes, stared with apprehension at the table. George’s neighbour wiped his forehead. “They got the devil in ’em,” said George. comiclooks.com