"Never had subject such king!"
"Newgate he builded faire

For prisoners to live in;
Christ's church he did repaire
Christian love for to win.
Many more such like deedes
Were done by Whittington
Which joy and comfort breedes,
To such as look thereon."

Robert Southey, in his famous book, "The Doctor," has the following story.

“That bells can convey articulate sounds to those who have the gift of interpreting their language, Whittington, Lord Mayor of London Town, knew by fortunate experience; so did a certain Father Confessor in the Netherlands, whom a buxom widow consulted upon the perilous question whether she should marry a second husband, or continue in widowed blessedness, The prudent priest deemed it too delicate a point for him to decide, so he directed her to attend to the bells of her church when next they chimed and bring him word what she thought they said. ... The first time the bells struck up she listened with mouth and ears, and the more she listened the more plainly they said, "Nempt een man, Nempt een man." (Take a spouse, take a

spouse.) "Aye, daughter," said the confessor, when she returned to him with her report, "if the bells said so, so say I, and not I alone, but the apostle also hath told us when it is best for us to marry."

Then Southey asks:

What said the Bells of Doncaster to our dear doctor on that happy morning which made him a whole man by uniting to him the rib which he had till then wanted?

They said to him as distinctly as they spoke to Whittington and the Flemish widow:

Not only Robert Southey but Charles Dickens realized that "this tongue had language," as you will see in his Christmas Chimes, where Tobias says:

"How often have I heard them bells say

'Toby Veck, Toby Veck, keep a good heart, Toby. Toby Veck, Toby Veck, keep a good heart, Toby.' A million times? More! When things are very bad, almost at the worst, then it's

'Toby Veck, Toby Veck, job coming soon, Toby, Toby Veck, Toby Veck, job coming soon, Toby!""

To Panurge in Rabelais the bells said:
"Marry, marry, marry."

But perhaps no eager listener has ever heard the bells communicate so much invaluable information as Mother Goose. From that inexhaustible mine of wisdom let us cull a few nuggets: Kettles and Pans

Say the Bells of St. Anne's.

Poker and Tongs

Say the Bells of St. John's.

Bull's eyes and targets

Say the Bells of St. Margrets.

Brickbats and Tiles

Say the Bells of St. Giles.

Pancakes and Fritters

Say the Bells of St. Peter's.

Oranges and Lemons

Say the Bells of St. Clement's.

Half pence and farthings

Say the Bells of St. Martin's.

You owe me ten shillings Say the Bells of St. Helen's.

When will you pay me?
Say the Bells of Old Bailey.

I am sure I don't know
Says the great Bell of Bow.

When I grow rich

Say the Bells of Shoreditch.

Old Father Baldpate

Say the slow Bells of Aldgate.

Chapter IX

LOST BELLS

The ancient bell believed to have belonged to St. Fillan, and to have been frequently used by him to restore the insane to perfect sanity, continued till the beginning of the nineteenth century to lie loose on a gravestone in the churchyard ready to be employed in the good work. It was believed that it was useless to carry it away because by some mysterious means it was always brought back and placed where St. Fillan last laid it down. A doubting traveler, probably a Yankee, put the miracle to the test, carried away the bell, and it has been no more heard of.

There are forests in Switzerland and Germany where bells are heard to ring which can never be traced to any abiding place, and are fabled to belong to lost cities. In Nottinghamshire, England, there is a valley said to have been caused by an earthquake, which swallowed up a whole village, together with the church. Formerly it was a custom for the people to assemble in this valley on Christmas Day to listen to the ringing of the bells beneath them. This it was positively