New-York tribune., 1920-01-11
By Arnold D. Prince


Bidding US list to the warning it brings,
Sailor beware; sailor take care;
Danger is near thee. Bewarel Beware!
"HIS is very effective when
sung in deep bass in a coy
parlor with the steam crack
ing cheerily in the radiator.
But il doesn't give you the complete
picture. To get the real atmosphere
Of the bell, or the siren, sending its
far cry to the beleaguered sailor,
and Of the dangers against which it
raises its clarion voice, you must
visit one of the Old Towers in per-
son. Especially in these wintry
days. The experience will not only
be illuminative and instructive, but
you will come away from it with a
series Of impressions which will last
you the rest of your life.
You are sitting, let US suppose, in
the watch room Of the lighthouse on
Minot's Ledge in Massachusetts
Bay, which is an excellent place for
making observations, as it is what is
known as a sea rock beacon and en-
tirely surrounded by water. Because
Of the heavy spray ice on the iron lad
der extending down the side Of the
wall from the door, you may have
been hauled aloft at the end of a
rope, like a beetle on a string, but
as this is an everyday occurrence
these cold days with the hardy folk
who sound the siren and tend the
light, you dismiss it from your mind
as an incident Of no Importance.
Keeper Is Unmoved
But as you are sitting there, the
strains of the old song running
through your mind, perhaps, and
basking in the peaceful atmosphere
of your surroundings, somebody, so
it seems, suddenly hits the tower
with the Woolworth Building. The
iron doors clang horribly, there is a
fearful rending and grinding among
the steel supports, but you note
with amazement as you leap to your
feet in terror that the keeper of the
light seems to have noticed nothing.
Can the man suddenly have gone
deaf? you wonder.
You shake him by the shoulder,
thinking to arouse him to his danger.
"Something has hit u.s." you shrek
in his ear. Better do something or
we'll be drowned" but he merely
smiles back reassuringly.
"Must be takin' on little sea-" he
ventures, in explanation Of the comb
er which has just tried to lift the
building off its foundations. "Noth-
in to get excited about. There1l
be bigger ones along presently"
And he's right. There are. With
that peculiar coincidence which at
tends the feet of those who look for
trouble, you find yourself in the
midst Of a brisk nor'easter which
gives you plenty Of opportunities for
getting the real sentiment Of that
stanch old song that thrilled you 80
delightfully."- in the warm little fiat
back home.
The blows gain in number and VOL
ume and are accompa1ed by a rush
Ing and a moaning sound which is
IN itself disconcerting. You begin
TO recall stories you've heard and
read about lighthouses. You won
der II, after all, altogether too much
1uss has not been made about the
poor sailor and altogether too little
sad about the people who tend the
lights. You take quick look out of
ffe window, but the view is not reas-
suring.
Visions Of Starvation
As Tar as eye can see, nothing but
"ng, livid lines of breakers greet the
vision. The outlines Of the Cohasset
shore, which looked so protectingly
"ssr when you started out, have dis
appeared entirely. 1t is beginning to