The Golden Hearth Bell

I trotted in from the garden step and scrambled straight toward the dark brick hearth—gasp! Sitting beside the cold iron screen rested a small, heavy brass handbell with an ornate carved timber handle! I lunged forward on my little hooves and bumped the curved metal rim with my snout! *CLING-ting-ting!* A sudden, bright chime rang sharp through the quiet evening air, and I froze rock-still on the spot, wide-eyed, hooves clamped tight to the rough hearthstone, waiting to see if a phantom butler would appear! But nobody came. The clear chime just dissolved into a sweet, vibrating hum. I gently nestled my felt chin right over the warm wooden handle, listening until the very last whisper died away.