The sound of ringing bells was music to Millie’s ears,
Every time she heard them, they brought her cheers.
She had to walk past the bell tower, into town,
So one day she stopped, with a quizzical frown.
“I should go inside this campanile to see,”
“What the inside story of bell ringing might be.”
And so that is indeed what she did.
Taking those stairs to where the bell ringers hid.
There were four of them, looking with hope,
Towards their respective bell pull rope.

She asked the older gent, in a tremulous voice,
If she could have a try, if there was a choice.
“So would you like to be a campanologist, my dear?”
“We can surely instruct you, never you fear.”
“Come in and stand just in front of me,”
“And we’ll have you bell ringing before time for tea.”
So Millie stood with her back to the wall,
And the long bell rope, before her, did fall.
The older gent, whose name was Pervice,
Stood closely behind her, making her nervous.
In fact, he stood so very, very close,
That the proximity seemed to be gross.

He seemed to be both excitable and frisky,
And he emitted a strong aroma of whiskey.
“My dear,” said he as he covered her hands,
“I’ll help you, initially, to pull the bell bands.”
“You’ll soon ‘get to know the ropes’ so to speak.”
“And then my hands may go elsewhere to seek.”
With that he guided her hands to tug very hard,
And the bell rope flopped against it’s guard.
“As a campanologist, you’re a natural, my dear,”
“Although you require much more practice with me near.”
“If you would care to come back tonight,”
“I’ll see to your training, see you all right.”

Now Millie was thinking, “He has been drinking,”
“Of whiskey or Gin, he was stinking.”
There was no way she was coming back,
Pervice was so grubby, full of tack.
“Tonight I’m travelling to see grand mother,”
“But, another time I could return with my big brother.”
“He is most protective of me, and I’ve a hunch,”
“He may well decide to give you a punch!”
Now Pervice said, “Really my dear,”
“Of me you should have no fear.”
“You are undoubtedly a beautiful belle,”
“And I have so many things, to you, I could tell.”
“But it seems that our dalliance is not to be.”
“Undoubtedly, I must have Bats in my Belfry!”
“Although I’m partial to cute little dolls,”
“I seem to be the one for whom The Bell Tolls!”