CHAPTER X
THE SIREN
The startling episode of the attack of the dog had not sufficed todistract Colonel Livingston's regard from his manifest duty as guide,philosopher and friend to all the incarcerated wayfarers. He was too olda campaigner for that. After the confusion had ceased and comment on thestirring incident had died away, he looked about in austerecontemplation. His eyes rested upon the Conductor and Porter, who werediscussing something together at the end of the car. He acted promptly.
"Here," he called out, cheerfully but imperatively, "if you think thatthis train crew has but one sort of responsibility just now, you aremistaken. Passengers must, under the circumstances, have even moreattention than usual. They must be entertained. You must each tell astory. Mr. Conductor, I call upon you first."
The conductor was mightily embarrassed. Evidently story-telling was nothis specialty. Recognizing, however, the fact that there was nothingfor him but submission to the inflexible Colonel, he succumbed, red inthe face and twisting nervously his short mustache.
"I'm not much at telling anything," he managed to explain, "and don'tbelieve I have any story of my own that would be worth while, but Inever hear the whistle cut loose that I don't think of what a man I metin San Francisco told me of what has been going on in one of the bigcities, and may be going on yet for all I know. I haven't been East ofDenver for a long time--that's the end of my run--and, it seems to me,that, if what he told me is true, I'd have seen something about it inthe newspapers. Maybe not, though; they miss lots of things. Anyhow,this is what he told me--and I'll try to tell it just as he did, evenusing some of his big words, about what has been happening with a kindof big whistle to help sailors which they call,
THE SIREN
Half a mile off shore, an adjunct of the light-house, was the Siren,friend of mariners and enemy of all the rest of mankind. When the fogcame upon the face of the waters and steamers and sailing vessels,creeping fearfully about in all directions, were in danger of collision,with resultant horrors, and shrieked out their apprehensions in stridentwhistlings, the Siren responded through the opaque waste with a warninghowl, telling each seaman where he was and where was safety and wherewas death. It was a howl of the pitch and key best adapted for reachinga great distance and served its purpose well, yet it was doleful as asound from the tomb or the wail of a lost soul with a bass voice. Butlittle cared the fog-fretted captains or their crews or passengers forthe lugubriousness of the Siren's call. As long as the notes of themisnamed fog-horn indicated the path to safety they cared nothing forthe quality of the note.
In the city which stood beside the shore, the case was different. Peoplerecognized the fact that the great water highways must be made safe andthat mariners must be protected, but the burden of the Siren was hard tobear. Little attention had been paid to its sound at first but theconstant iteration had told upon mind and body as tells the constantfalling of a single drop of water upon the head. People were seriouslyaffected. In the foggy season strong men became fretful and impatientand weak women were compelled to seek the country. The whole city wasthreatened with an attack of nervous debility. All night long, andsometimes late into the forenoon, the fog would hang stubbornly abovethe harbor, and all night long and far into the daylight, the Sirenwould groan and groan while the people raved. Sanitariums did a thrivingbusiness. Some sort of climax was approaching when Hannibal Perkinsappeared from the suburbs upon the scene.
Hannibal Perkins was a young man about twenty-one years of age. He wasborn "down East" as he explained, and was tall and gaunt, with pleasantblue eyes and a soft voice. He was ambitious and possessed of aninventive genius which he wished to cultivate. He had graduated from thecity high school and desired now to spend two or three years in a famousscientific academy, but could not gratify his wish, because of relativepoverty. He helped his father in the work of a small truck farm justoutside the city, but there was small yearly surplus to aid in therealization of Hannibal's hopes and plans. There was stuff in the youth,though. Regretting but not dismayed, Hannibal worked doggedly, everplanning as to how he might raise honestly the needed money. The littlefarm lay close beside the shore and at night the youth's thoughts werefrequently disturbed, for the Perkin's family got the full benefit ofthe Siren's groans.
Not only was Hannibal Perkins an inventor, but he had a musical gift aswell. He played the violin with skill and feeling, and had studied withan excellent teacher, a friend of the family who had become interestedin Hannibal and given him lessons gratis. He possessed an exquisite earand it is doubtful if in all the city there was a person who sufferedmore from the Siren's dismal cry than did this robust young man. Nightafter night he would toss about in his bed and but endure. "Is there noway of stopping it," he thought. "Cannot the same end be attained insome less melancholy and devastating way?" Unable to sleep regularly, atlast, in desperation he set his wits to work.
Reading a scientific magazine one day, a single sentence impresseditself upon Hannibal Perkin's memory: "It is a well known fact that amusical sound can be heard distinctly at a greater distance than can anunmusical one." Hannibal pondered much.
One night, either because his nerves chanced to be a little more nearlyon edge than usual or because the Siren chanced to be in good workingorder, the sounds which came from the outer harbor seemed to Hannibalmore than ordinarily loud and mournful and appalling. He ragedhelplessly. "What need of so much noise, and such a noise!" he fumed,but, sobering in temper with reflection, tried to content himself withmuttering resignedly: "I suppose it's necessary that the thing should beheard as far away as possible,"--then checked his muttering suddenly.The sentence in the scientific periodical had recurred to him. "It is awell known fact that a musical sound can be heard distinctly at agreater distance than an unmusical one." He rose from his bed and satsilent, with wrinkled brow. Gradually the wrinkles disappeared and alight came into the young man's eyes. He sprang to his feet, giving ventas he did so to the single, all unstudied, expression "B'gosh!" He hadlearned it when a boy "down East" while working in the fields with thehired man.
For the next two weeks Hannibal Perkins did little labor on the farm.His time was spent from daylight to dark in a small lean-to which servedthe double purpose of woodshed and workship. Then for another week,he was in town studying the mechanism of the great churchorgans--instruments with which he was already tolerably familiar--andconsulting with organ-builders and other craftsmen. The fourth week wasspent in the little shop again.
It was the beginning of one of the foggiest months in the year thatHannibal Perkins, hat in hand, somewhat abashed, but resolute, enteredthe office of the mayor of the city. He looked curiously upon the manseated at his desk. He saw a person of apparently strong physique, butthin and pale and with glittering eyes, the eyes of a victim ofinsomnia. The mayor wheeled about in his chair.
"What do you want?" he asked peevishly.
It was not a pleasant reception but, as a matter of fact, the manordinarily affable was nervous and consequently irritable. Hannibalresolved not to appear abashed.
"It's about the Siren," he said.
"What!" The mayor was all interest now. "What about the Siren?"
"I want to suggest a means for getting rid of the awful sounds whichcome over the water every night; to get rid of them so that the peopleof this city can sleep again."
The mayor stared at his visitor for a moment or two and then spokesolemnly:
"Young man if you can do what you propose you are not unlikely to takemy place in this seat, some day. You will be the most popular man in thecity. Look at me! I weighed two hundred and ten pounds when the Sirenwas first placed in the harbor. Now I weigh a scant one hundred andfifty-six. There are thousands of others who have suffered in the sameway--insomnia, shattered nerves and all that sort of thing--and thesituation is growing worse instead of better. Only the stolid and dullare unaffected. Talk about American restlessness and excitability! Why,what has been in the past will be calm philosophy compared wi
th whatwill come in the future when Sirens are established in every harbor ofthe country. Of course, young man, I know that you're only a dreamer, awould-be inventor--you have the big full eyes of an inventor--but Idon't feel like being impatient with any one whose efforts are bent in adirection as laudable as are yours. Tell me what your particular dreamis." And the mayor leaned back wearily.
"But I'm not a dreamer!" exclaimed Hannibal excitedly. "I know what Ihave been doing and what I'm talking about. I tell you I can get rid ofthe ghastly noise made by the Siren and yet have the vessels warned in afog as well as they are now. Yes, I'll warn them at even a greaterdistance. More than that," and Hannibal began to get excited, "more thanthat, I'll transform what is now a source of agony to one of pleasure. Iguarantee it. I can explain my plan to you and you'll say it's feasible,sir; I know you will!" and the young man paused, out of breath.
The mayor's face had taken on a look of patient endurance. "Go ahead,"he said, "and show me how the wheels work in your head. I hope it willnot take long."
Hannibal paid no attention to the sarcasm. He was too full of hissubject: "I tell you, Mr. Mayor, that I've solved the problem. I'vespent weeks and weeks upon it and at last I've got it. I can make it asclear as day to you. First I want you to hear this from one of theleading scientific magazines of the world," and he drew forth a clippingand began to read--
"It is a well known fact that a musical sound can be heard distinctlyat a greater distance than can an unmusical one."
"THE MAYOR HAD BEEN GETTING INTERESTED"]
"There," continued Hannibal triumphantly, as he restored the clipping tohis pocket, "you see the point; you can hear a musical sound at agreater distance than you can hear an unmusical one. The dismal wails ofthe Siren are not musical, but why not make them so? There's a way and Ihave found it."
The mayor was sitting erect in his chair, now. He was becominginterested. "Go on," he said.
"Well," replied Hannibal. "There's not much more to say at present. I'vegiven you the general idea. The principle is sound and I know how to putthe design into execution."
"Are you sure," said the mayor, "are you very sure?"
"I am," responded Hannibal.
"Well, what do you want?"
"I want the privilege of putting new works inside the Siren, that'sall."
"But the Siren is under the control of the United States Government. Howcan we get permission for the experiment?"
"Oh," said Hannibal, cheerfully, "I've thought all that out. Thegovernment usually pays attention to the advice of business men of anylocality where it has established something in their interest. Thevessel men here are the ones who have influence in the case. Get thevessel men to endorse it and the government will consent to theexperiment."
The mayor had been getting more and more interested as all the bearingsof the case became clear to him. The thing seemed practicable, and whatwould not follow should it really prove a success! It would redound tohis credit that he had recognized the plan which gave the city peace. Hereached a decision promptly.
"I'll help you," he declared, "I'll call a meeting of the vessel men forto-morrow night. You'll have to be there to explain the thing as youhave to me--more fully though. Does that suit you?"
Hannibal departed walking on air. Could he convince the vessel men! Hehad not the slightest doubt of it.
He neither ate nor slept much from the time he left the mayor's office,until on the evening of the next day when he entered the hall where thevessel men were assembled, the mayor with them.
The mayor took the chair, called the meeting to order, explained brieflythe proposition which had been made to him, and said that he hadthought it best to refer the suppliant to those most vitally interestedin the matter. The inventor was present and would make his ownexplanation.
Hannibal took the platform tremblingly. He had never addressed anaudience in his life, and his knees shook and there was a lump in histhroat. At first he could not articulate, but when a bluff, red-facedold mariner, taking pity on him, called out--"Don't be scared, youngman; take your time," he recovered himself and began stammeringly.Gradually the words came more freely. He believed in his scheme, andthat gave him strength. He warmed to his subject and almost forgot wherehe was. He became eloquent, in an inventor's way. He described thepresent horrors of the Siren, the condition of the people, and theprejudice that was growing up in consequence against anything marine, aprejudice which might in time affect seriously the shipping interest.
Then he told how much farther a musical sound could travel than could anunmusical one. Then he outlined vaguely the value and nature of hisinvention which would substitute one sound for the other, and make ofthe Siren a blessing on land as well as on the water. He carried hisaudience with him and, when he closed his address, flushed and earnest,his hand was grasped heartily by a large proportion of those present.There was a brief debate, but it was nearly all one way, and it wasdecided, that the Presidents of the Vessel Owners Association and theTug Owners Association should form a committee of two, to proceed atonce to Washington and there secure from the right department permissionfor the trying of Hannibal's experiment. Furthermore there wascontributed on the spot a sum sufficient, in Hannibal's estimation, forthe execution of his plan. Within two weeks the committee had made itstrip and returned with the government's consent to the undertaking.Hannibal went to work.
It was no simple task that now faced the young man, albeit the greatestobstacle was just removed. Sanguine as most inventors are, supplied withfunds sufficient for his purpose, unlimited as to time, he yet realizeda certain gravity to the situation. He rented a wing of an oldwarehouse, hired capable mechanics as assistants and plunged into hislabor, feverishly.
What is known as the "orchestrion" is a gigantic musical machine popularin summer gardens, restaurants and various similar places of publicresort. Perforated sheets of metal are slipped into the machine, oneafter another, and different tunes are played according to theperforations in the metal. The basis of Hannibal Perkin's idea was theorchestrion, with the addition of certain adjuncts of the fog-horn, tosecure a volume of sound equaling that which nightly woke the echoes andeverything else. Of course he could not himself manufacture perforatedplates of the size he required, but a special order to a great firm inthe business solved this part of the problem and a huge set of circularplates, twenty-five feet in diameter, was soon delivered at his shop.The machine itself was all the work of Hannibal and his two assistants.The day came when the thing was done and the monster orchestrion, orwhatever it might be called, was loaded on a barge and towed to thelight-house where the siren was about to be deposed. To make the properattachments for the orchestrion--which did not get its power fromwinding up in the ordinary way, but by a steam arrangement--was a workof time, for just here was the most difficult part of the undertaking,and where the inventive genius of Hannibal Perkins shone out mostbrilliantly. It was a new departure but it was all right in principle,as Hannibal had maintained, and the day came when he announced that,when the fog fell that night, a new Siren, one with a voice such as wasnever heard before on sea or shore, would call across the waters tobelated vessel men.
Night came and the fog came with it. Dimmer and dimmer grew the flashesfrom the light-house lantern until, at last, they could no longer bedistinguished from the shore, and then, to the people of the great citycame a sensation.
"Chippie, get your hair cut, hair cut, hair cut, Chippie, get your hair cut, hair cut short."
Loud and clear from away out in the harbor came the notes of therollicking tune, once so generally popular. The atmosphere was fairlysaturated with it. Never had even the howl of the detested Siren sothoroughly permeated every outdoor nook and cranny of the town. Themoving multitudes on the brilliantly lighted streets paused andlistened, and as they stood there, lost and curious, the same sweet buttremendous voice informed them affably:
"There'll be a hot time, In the old town to-night."
Evidently this spirit
of the waters, was of a lively, not to sayhilarious, disposition--at least that was the first impressiongiven--but as the hours passed, the music changed in character, and itfinally dawned upon the populace that there was method in the madness ofthe Siren--for the news had flown rapidly of what the wonderwas--gentler airs succeeded until the hour when the young men callingshould go home, when apparently impersonating all the young women in thecity, the Siren spoke softly:
"Bid me good-bye and go!"
and, later, as the time came when erring heads of families might belingering out too late for their own good, the mentor started in with--
"Oh, Willie, we have missed you!"
and, a little later, after apparent consideration, wailed outdespairingly:
"Oh, father, dear father, come home with me now."
It was charming! Still later, came soothing, familiar airs in a minorkey, such as were sleep-encouraging, and there was no variation fromthis until six a.m., when there was an outbreak:
"I can't get 'em up, I can't get 'em up, I can't get 'em up this morning! The sergeant's worse than the private, The captain's worse than the sergeant! The major's worse than the captain, The colonel's the worst of 'em all! I can't get 'em up, I can't get 'em up, I can't get 'em up to-day!"
Ringing out over all the city was the reveille, but, as if in drowsyanswer came a little later, almost like an echo--the lazy, listless,
"Let me dream again."
Evidently not what was approved of, for, sharply and indignantly,followed the peremptory demand to--
"Take your clothes and go."
And so, until the fog lifted, continued the interesting programme of theSiren. The people were delighted. No more was the name of the "Siren" amisnomer. The newspapers were full of praise of Hannibal Perkins, theinventor, and a dream, for once, was realized. Improvements were made bythe elated genius. People in the city soon perceived that certain airswere played only at certain hours, so that one could tell what time ofnight it was while lying comfortably in bed. The invention wasrecognized as a boon to the community. The Board of Trade voted a neatlump sum to Hannibal Perkins, he was elected member of numerousscientific and musical societies, and negotiations were begun with thegovernment looking to the introduction of the Siren in harborseverywhere.
Now comes reference to the action of a law of nature which has alwaysbeen accounted curious, that law which is in direct contradiction of theold and popular saying that one cannot have too much of a good thing.The months passed, months of triumph and elation for Hannibal Perkins,and, at first, of enjoyment for those on land. Then in the city came agradual change, though Hannibal, in the light-house, was not aware ofit. There arose an anti-Siren party, and a clamorous one! It was the oldstory--they were "tired" of the same old tunes. They were all antiquatedthings it was declared. It was the result of that quality in the humanear and human nerves which enables them to endure the continual passingof a railroad train, but not the too frequent repetition of a musicalair. Even an effort to remedy this fault did not avail. There came twodread November weeks of almost continual fog, day and night, and, asthe Siren gave four tunes an hour for variety's sake, it necessarilyplayed ninety-six tunes a day, and there weren't enough popular airs inexistence to keep this up without constant duplication, or worse! A newform of nervousness was seizing upon the multitude. Even the mayor, whohad grown fat, was getting thin again.
On the other hand the Siren had a powerful supporting force in theofficers and crews of every vessel entering the harbor. Most delightfulwas it to those gallant seamen, when the fog lay dense and sinister, tohear, at a greater distance from land than ever before, the sounds whichguided them to safety and, at the same time, to recognize and be cheeredby the notes of some familiar air. They heard the Siren onlyoccasionally and to them there was no monotony. The whole shippinginterest arose figuratively in arms against those who objected to thenew order of things.
And so the case stands now. The government is considering the matter.Doubtless the Perkins Siren will, in the end, be adopted--withmodifications and restrictions. Hannibal Perkins is pondering over thequestion of why people get so maddeningly tired of a piece of music,from some favorite of the operas down to the latest bit of "rag-time."They do not get tired of bread and beefsteak! Is the palate wiser thanthe ear? Even Hannibal Perkins cannot answer that question. Human natureis odd.
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