swung the eight ropes about in a way I did not like. I remember saying,
"Oh, don't do that." At last I had a mad desire to ring one of the
bells. As a loop of rope swung toward me it seemed to hold a face, and
this face cried out, "Come and hang yourself; then the bell will ring."

If I slept I do not know. I may have done so. Certainly I must have
stayed there many hours. I was dull and confused, and yet on my guard,
for when far into the night I heard noises below, I ran up the steeper
steps which ascend to the steeple, where are the bells. Half-way up I
sat down on the stair. The place was cold and the darkness deep. Then I
heard the eight ringers down below. One said: "Never knowed a Christmas
like this since Zeb Sanderaft died. Come, boys!" I knew it must be close
on to midnight. Now they would play a Christmas carol. I used every
Christmas to be roused up and carried here and set on dad's shoulder.
When they were done ringing, Number Two always gave me a box of
sugar-plums and a large red apple. As they rang off, my father would cry
out, "One, two," and so on, and then cry, "Elias, all over town people
are opening windows to listen." I seemed to hear him as I sat in the
gloom. Then I heard, "All ready; one, two," and they rang the Christmas
carol. Overhead I heard the great bells ringing out:

And all the bells on earth shall ring
On Christmas day, on Christmas day.

I felt suddenly excited, and began to hum the air. Great heavens! There
was the old woman, Aunt Rachel, with her face going twitch, twitch, the
croak of her breathing keeping a sort of mad time with "On Christmas
day, on Christmas day." I jumped up. She was gone. I knew in a hazy sort
of way what was the matter with me, but I had still the sense to sit
down and wait. I said now it would be snakes, for once before I had been