quality of fine unselfishness: Captain Thomas A. Scott and the ferryboat; Edward V. Wedin, the telegraph operator volunteering for service in New Orleans during the yellow fever; John R. Binns, wireless operator on the S.S.Republic; Peter Woodland, the foreman and day-laborer in the Hudson River Tunnel; the life-savers at Lone Hill; Sergeant Vaughan, the fireman in New York City; Walter Waite in the Cherry Mine Tragedy; "Partners," Little Mackie, the crippled child; Collins Graves and his race with the flood. Nearly all the stories cited for illustration of this topic may be found in An American Book of Golden Deeds, by James Baldwin (American Book Co.), and Heroes of Everyday Life, by Fanny E. Coe (Ginn & Co.). If you do your duty each day so faithfully that it will be a simple matter to do more than your duty in any emergency, you may make of yourself a possible hero of peace. Read: "The Hero," John G. Whittier. Houghton, Mifflin Co. JACK BINNS, THE HERO OF THE FANNY E. COE Several years ago occurred the most thrilling rescue at sea ever known in marine annals. It was at this time that the wireless telegraphy proved to the world its tremendous possibilities for service. It was the 23d of January, 1909. The great White Star liner Republic with seven hundred souls on board 1 From Heroes of Everyday Life. Ginn & Co. was groping her way through a dense fog some twentysix miles south of Nantucket. She had been enveloped in fog ever since leaving New York City some fifteen hours before. Suddenly out of the gloom appeared a huge steamer. Prow on, she dealt the Republic an overwhelming blow in the side, and then vanished into the fog. The terrified passengers rushed on deck to find themselves in total darkness. From the moment of collision, all lights went out on the ship. Captain Sealby spoke to the people, reassuring them; and they bore themselves with great calmness and self-control. Even while the captain spoke, the wireless operator, John R. Binns, a young man of twenty-five years, was bending to his work. The walls of his narrow room had been crushed and a portion of his apparatus wrecked. He could do nothing with his dynamos. But using his accumulators he began throwing messages over the sea. He told of the sad plight of the Republic and called for aid. There, in the darkness, with the ship still reeling from the shock, with the water pouring into the hold, with hundreds of human beings in terror of death on the deck hard by, Jack Binns sounded the distress call: "C.Q.D."; "C.Q.D."; "C.Q.D." "C.Q.D." is the most important signal in the service. When that call is heard, all the stations drop their work and attend to it alone. Siasconset, on Nantucket Island, the farthest seaward station on the American coast, heard the call and answered. Immediately she passed on the word to all ships on the sea equipped with the wireless telegraph within two hundred miles. She also informed all land stations within the same radius. In this way two steamships, the White Star liner Baltic and the French steamer La Lorraine, were turned from their course and directed toward their sister ship in her great peril. The Lucania also offered help. The apparatus on the Republic was weak. Binns nursed his power against a time when he might need it more. His machine could send messages only a little over sixty miles. Siasconset caught these messages and repeated them to the hastening ships and to the shore. From the harbors, revenue cutters sped towards Nantucket to see what aid they could offer. Within half an hour after the accident, thousands knew of what had occurred in the pall of fog out to sea and help was speeding toward the stricken vessel. But the Florida, the steamship that had rammed the Republic, was nearest of all. She had sustained less injury than her victim. Accordingly, on Saturday morning, the passengers of the latter ship were transferred, for greater safety, to the Florida. The dangerous task lasted for several hours. In the mean while, Binns still sat at his post directing, to the best of his ability, the steamers that were searching for the Republic in the midst of the enshrouding fog. This was not an easy task. "All the ships for a hundred miles around were inquiring, complaining, ordering, beseeching, bleating, like a flock of sheep. The electric snarl was complete for a time." The Baltic reached the neighborhood of the Republic at two o'clock on Saturday, but, owing to the fog, it was not until six o'clock that she succeeded in locating the Republic definitely. Tattersall, the Marconi operator on the Baltic, "a little slim, red-whiskered Londoner, quick on his feet and as lithe as a cat," said in regard to the search for the Republic: "It's the awful nervous strain of striving, always striving, to get the message right, when half a dozen monster batteries are jerking flashes to you at the same time, pounding in your ears, making sparks swarm before your eyes. That's what gets on a man's nerves; that's what makes you next to insane. I hardly knew what to do, with the Republic signaling me faintly, so faintly, that I could n't make out whether they were saying, 'We are sinking,' or, 'All safe."" The batteries had given out on the Republic, and for some hours all signaling had been by means of submarine bells. At six o'clock Saturday night, by orders of Captain Sealby, all the crew left the Republic, as it was feared that she might founder in the night. Binns joined Tattersall on the Baltic. Tattersall tells of their meeting as follows: "That chap Binns is a rare plucky one, he is. I know him pretty well, you know, but even so, I was astonished when he walked into my cabin Saturday night, after they had taken off the crew of the Republic. "Hullo!' he said, cool as you please; 'thought I'd see how you were, old chap. Had a brisk sort of a time, did n't we?' "He told me he never worried after the crash came. 'I worked,' he said, 'because it seemed the easiest thing to do."" The next morning Captain Sealby, with a volunteer crew of fifty men, boarded the Republic, which was still afloat. Binns obtained some new batteries and returned to his old post. He was there all Sunday. Three vessels undertook the towing of the Republic. It was thought she might be beached and so not be a total loss to her owners. But the hope proved vain. In the early evening the captain ordered the brave volunteers to "abandon ship," and at eight o'clock the Republic sank. Binns had clung to his post till ordered off by the captain. One of his brave messages had said: "I'm on the job. Ship sinking, but will stick to the end." Binns kept his word, and his bearing throughout these terrible thirty-eight hours serves as a lofty precedent for all Marconi operators in the future. His "celerity, fidelity, and intelligence have made his name immortal." A few days later M. Boutelle, of Illinois, paid in Congress a glowing tribute to Binns. He said in closing, "Binns has given the world a splendid illustration of the heroism that dwells unseen in many who are doing the quiet, unnoticed tasks of life. It is an inspiration to all of us to feel that there are heroes for every emergency and that in human life no danger is so great that some Jack Binns is not ready to face it." JUNE: THE WORKING MEMBERS OF SOCIETY FOR the Teacher: EACH AND ALL RALPH WALDO EMERSON Little thinks, in the field, yon red-cloaked clown The heifer that lows in the upland farm, Stops his horse, and lists with delight, Whilst his files sweep round yon Alpine height; Thy life to thy neighbor's creed has lent. All are needed by each one; Nothing is fair or good alone. For the Class: "The health and the happiness of each one of us is utterly dependent on the health and the happiness of |