Station Bell Mounted

That brass key from the morning shift needed an honest mount to work as a true muster bell. I stumped along the cedar bed and picked up a stout, Y-shaped oak twig from the mulch. Tough seasoned wood with a clean fork. I drove the blunt stem straight down into the packed loam beside my pebble hearth, leaning in with both palms until it stood firm as a fence post. Then I slipped the brass key's round bow over the angled peg. It swung free, clear of the dirt. One light tap with my striker twig—ting! A crisp chime cut clean through the afternoon quiet. Ha! Free swing, true chime, and the station bell is officially mounted.