Mood Indigo

You'll remember our tale of the Russian bells in Lowell House at Harvard: how the Russian bellringer who was brought over to ring them fell into a mood, took to drinking ink, and had to be sent home, so that the bells have never been rung. Nobody so far has denied that the Russian bellman drank ink, but several people up there have written us indignantly that the bells do ring. It comes out that every Monday evening at six-thirty Lowell House holds High Table, which is a secret--and we should imagine, sad--sort of dinner, attended only by House members and invited dignitaries. After this function, the High Tablers, led by Head Tutor Mason Hammond, wind in a solemn procession up into the tower to see and hear the bells.

The most detailed description of the bells which our story brought forth comes from Mr. Frederic W. Swift, of Leverett House, so if it's wrong, write him. He says there are fifteen bells, four of which are attached to a stick which is held in the right hand and jiggled; nine others are attached by a complicated system of wires and pulleys to nine chains which are worked separately by the left hand; the fourteenth is worked by the right foot, and it takes two men to operate the fifteenth, and largest. "The usual procedure," relates Mr. Swift, "is for the operator to start (jiggling) with his right hand, proceed down the scale with his left, bring his right foot into play, and nod his head for the two strong men to start ringing Bell No. 15." No tune results, but there is a terrific clangor.

As soon as all the bells get going, led by old No. 15, windows are flung open in Leverett, Winthrop, Adams, and Claverly* Houses, and even in Lowell House itself. Students whistle and shriek, alarm clocks ring; and everybody wails "Rinehart!"--the old Harvard wail. The bedlam lasts for about ten minutes, after which the High Tablers take a stiff drink of ink and go back to work. --New Yorker.

*(Claverly written but not too accurate, oh, New Yorker?)