We were Pavlov’s dogs long before we learned about them in class.
The sound of a handheld bell got you out of bed at first light.
A bell ring signalled breakfast had started or finished.
Another bell convened everyone outside for the daily walk to the main school building.
The peel of bells marked the beginning and end of church services, and electronic bell rings that of each individual school lesson.
Bells announced lunch, tea, supper, homework, bedtime, and after dark, fire drills.
Or real fires.
Bells defined our days and nights.
Sometimes, one of us would ring a bell at unfamiliar times.
It bred chaos.
We did it for fun.
And we robbed monotony of its reign, if only for a few minutes.