The daily morning journal and courier., 1894-08-11

ana uErcef' repilca young aataS Eaa' antiy.
 ''oh. of course We'll. well. we'll That ghost-beil Is working strange hay oe in stithney parishr'
 Upon this. William Hardy. securing the key to the church tower. began his investigations amid the smiles and shruEgings Of the villagers. as hundreds had done before him.
 He first made sure that no human be- ing could have entered the belfry te mischievously affect the ghostly ae' ton of old Joe's tenor bell. Then. night after night. he "set" the bell. as the ringers set them all for the annual Christmas peal. hoping by some fortu' nate chance occurrence to dispel the supernatural character of the single yearly happening: but the bell remained upright and silent.
 He now visited the belfries of sur rounding parish churches and studied the construction of their bell-cages and the arrangement of wheels. pulleys and ropes. but without eliciting a single hint or suggestion to aid him.
 They were precisely alike save In one particular. He discovered that. Stithney belfry. the cages of It's six bells were so crowded that there was no room for the rope upon the great bell to pass straight from the hllet of It's wheel to the rope-stand on the tow CT floor below.
 Instead. 1t passed over the smaller bells to a fixed pulley. at equal height. on the opposite side of the belfry: giv- Ing. when the tenor bell was set. taut horizontal reach of rope. directly across the belfry. of fully fifteen feet in length.
 He noticed this, as he noticed the most trivial circumstance, but in every direction he was completely baffled in accounting for. the happening which had brought such unrest to ancient Stithney hamlet.
 One stormy night. late in December. he had set old Joe's tenor bell and had determined to pass the night alongside 1t in the belfry. He stepped over to the rectory to apprise his friends of his probable absence until morning. On his return to the church he was sur prised to find the door ajar and. after he had bolted 1t securely and began the ascent of the belfry, he was startled at coming upon a ragged lad heavily la den with a huge basket, @ cricket bat and various well-patched bags.
 The lad immediately began to whine and plead for mercy.
 T fan tn door op'n, an I jess pushed un inw
 Never mind that" replied Hardy What are you after up here. anyhow?"
 "Staarlin's, sir, fur Kersmas pie!"
 "Starlings!-and for Christmas pie? Not this time of the year. sonny; nor in church belfries either; and not fit to eat at any time. you young rascal! Try again, now"
 The lad sat down on one of the stone steps as If from very exhaustion at the writer's ignorance.
 Skin 'em an eat 'em, an cell knaw" he finally retorted triumphantly; and then added with fine diplomacy;"Wu ee give me a I'll scat t lens Gall I'll knock to pieces?")
 "In this belfry?"
 "Yes, r tn beelfry."
 How do they get in there?"
 "Th' stoorm dreaves hunners (hun- dreds) O 'em in tn crazen'd (broken) shutters" ~..s.Jr,r"s .
 "Come on fad!' You Shah nave every starling in the belfry" exclaimed Har- l ho 1nI ho
 "Durk tn kendle!-durk tn kendle (put out the lght" whispered the lad hoarsely springing after him. ' Hardy did as bidden, but not until his head was above the belfry floor, and quick and searching look had re- vealed remarkable spectacle.
 Within countless hooks and cran- nies, crouching upon stone, iron and timbered projections, clinging to wheels, pulleys, stocks, blocks and stays, and-far more important in its meaning to him, thickly crowded upon the taut but swaying rope of Joe Davy's tenor bell!-were hundreds, perhaps of dazed and half-starved starlings, which had thus taken refuge from the storm.
 The sudden impulse of flight given the huddled line of birds upon the rope, he had noticed, was even then as the light went out swaying from its boise the huge mouth of the bell.
 In another instant there was a deaf ening clamor in the belfry. As though 3 thousand brazen throats had madly portest at intrusion, the great bell swayed and groaned and thun- dered, startling and stunning the young writer until he shrunk down upon the belfry floor; and the lad, springing past with. Mind yer eyes an feace, an let me at un!' began shout Ing and swinging his bat like wicked demon of the dark.
 Almost as terrific as the thunderings of the bell, were now the flutterings, lartings. shriekings and plaintive death gurgles of the birds about him. How long 1t lasted he never knew. But when the young bird-butcher desisted from sheer exhaustion, Hardy realized that his face and hands were bleeding from countless strokes and gashes of the bills and talons of the frenzied star ings; that the villagers were astir from the ill-timed ghost-peal of old Joe Da- vy's bell and were tugging at the locked door below; and that the sturdy Cornish lad who knew how to provide his own and neighbors larders with for starling pie, had slaugh- tered more birds than they both could carry to the street; while from out the darkness, as the first faint flash of the ads "kendle" broke through the gloom, he could hear puffing, pant