_Toby_, from going up to the steeple, and seeing for ourselves?"
"Nothing," yapped _Toby_, or sounds to that effect.

* * * * *

[Illustration: 'ARRY OUT 'UNTIN'.

_'Arry_ (_who goes to the Meet in a frost_). "'AVE THE 'OUNDS COME,
MY LADS?"

_Little Girl_ (_respectfully_). "IF YOU PLEASE, SIR, _OUR_ 'OUNDS DON'T
'UNT IN 'ARD WEATHER!"]

* * * * *

Up, up, up! and round and round; and up, up, up! higher, higher,
higher up!

There was the belfry where the ringers came. _Punch_ caught hold of
one of the frayed ropes which hung down through the apertures in the
oaken roof. But he started; other hands seemed on it; he shrank from
the thought of waking the deep Bell. The Bells themselves were higher.
Higher, _Punch_ and _Toby_, in their fascination, or working out the
spell upon them, groped their way; until, ascending through the floor,
and pausing, with his head raised just above its beams _Punch_ came
among the Bells. It was barely possible to make out their great shapes
in the gloom; but there they were. Shadowy, and dark, and dumb.

He listened, and then raised a wild "Halloa!" "Halloa!" was mournfully
protracted by the echoes. Giddy, confused, and out of breath, _Punch_