Has he or she a comparison? No one knows. A bellringer is a bell ringer. A member of a secret society dedicated to the movement of bells in their courses. Before others stir on a Sunday morning, the bell ringer steels himself, rises from his bed, and stealthily repairs towards the tower. The members of the brotherhood, gather at the door of the Church, then secretly ascend the twisting staircase knowing that few will dare to follow them to their high dusty hideout.. Once there they engage in their ritual of strictly ordered rope tugging. Little is uttered by members of the society. The bells are their voice, a loud voice to the glory of God, and a gentle jolt to the conscience of many others. The bell ringer smiles to himself as he leads his bell through the intricate dance ordained by the master, led by the passwords occasionally heard. He knows that the secret of his art is safe from spies, for no-one, even if they ventured to the lair and watched the ritual, could unfathom the merry path of the bells, unless they too were members of the brotherhood, and versed in its mystery. At the end of the meeting when the final password has been given by the master, to silence the bronze tongues, the fraternity descend the staircase and lock their door, safe in the knowledge that their secret is held in the voice of the bells which can only be made to speak by one who is learned in the intricate art practiced by the society. The bell ringers depart as secretly as they came, for once out of their tower they merge with the rest of the world, like the accomplished secret agents they are.

Little Bob.