Myself. I fail to see any act of devotion in carrying a bell about the town. Please, Mr. Eli, explain yourself.
“You, a stranger, very naturally conclude the man is demented. When you know the object of his mission you will come to a different opinion.”
Myself. Pray, Mr. Eli, enlighten me.
“We have a church here, my dear sir.”
Myself. Yes.
“That church is situate in a hole at the head of a deep dell.”
Myself. But what has that to do with this man?
“This,” replied Mr. Eli; “we cannot, up the town, hear the church chimes, though we are not two hundred yards from them.”
Myself. But the man does not carry your church bells on his knee.
“Oh, dear me, no; but this man walks round the town just before divine service, and the ringing of his bell warns the people that it is time for them to go to church.”