Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 176, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 August 1918 — Cap’n Ben’s Spy Glass [ARTICLE]

Cap’n Ben’s Spy Glass

By JONATHAN BANG

of The Wtartw

Passing through the North station in Boston on my -way home one evening last fall, I caught sight of a striking figure that I knew at once. Taller than most men and slow in his movements, his clothes a combination of nautical and rustic, he stood ont like a lone pine tree in a field. He was the ideal type of the old-fash-ioned New England shipmaster, with an eye as blue as the sky on a summer day. I recalled how I had first seen him at a little town down East where I was spending my summer vacation. He was standing out on the wharf looking out to sea through a large spyglass. We had got into conversation, he had taugL. me how to use the glass and I had learned how greatly he valued It and had carried it around the world with him on several voyages. Seeing him again now in the crowded station, I went up to him at once. “Why, Cap’n Ben,” I exclaimed, “where in the world did you come from and what are you doing in Boston?” “Oh, my daughter is married to a feller that works down in the market district and I’ve been up here makin’ them a visit. I’m goln’ back tonight on the train. I'd rather go down by boat, but they have pulled ’em all off on account of the war.” “Well, how is the old spyglass?” I said. “I presume you go down every little while and have a look around just as you did last summer." Cap’n Ben paused a minute before he answered and then said, “There’s quite a little yarn ter spin about that old glass since you last saw her. My train don’t go for an hour and if you have the time and would like to hear It Til spin it to yer.” “Well, Captain, a real yarn from a real sailor isn’t to be heard every day. I think that we had better take one of these seats and you reel it off to me.” Old Man Did His Bit. “Yer know," said Cap’n Ben after being seated, “I told yer last summer that I thought a powerful lot of that glass and I didn’t think that she and I would ever part company, and now, by jingo, I’ve sold her, or just as good as sold her for a dollar.” *Why, Cap’n Bear I exclaimed, “how did that happen?” “Well, Hl tell you,” resumed Cap’n Ben. “Ever since Uncle Sam went inter this war, Fve felt meaner than a skunk that I wa’nt in it. I wrote to Washington and to some kind of a shipping board here in Boston offerin’ my services, but they wrote back I was too old. I ain’t but seventy-three at that, and thbn, too, they said that they wanted men who had experience in steam and as I’d been on a windjammer all the time I went to sea, they didn’t seem ter have any place for me. > “Well, of course, like everybody else, I was reading In the papers as how the submarines were sinking vessels right and left and how our boys on the destroyers had gone over to help the English ter destroy that special breed of sea lice, and one day I saw a piece saying that the navy was mighty shy of marine glasses of all kinds. It seems that most of them had been made in Germany and we couldn’t make them here fast enough because we had to have a lot of ’em right away quick, and this article said that if anybody had a spyglass or a pair of binoculars, if they would send them to the navy department they could use them to mighty good advantage; it said that Uncle Sam would pay a dollar for the use of them and return them after the war, but if they were lost the dollar was to be the purchase price of ’em. It seems that they had to give you the dollar, for there was some kind of a law that wouldn’t let you give ’em to the government. “Well, I got to thinking the thing over, and I concluded that if they wouldn’t give me a show, here was a chance for the old glass to do her bit, and I sent her along. My name was engraved on it, had that done years ago, and in about a week I got a letter from this man Roosevelt who Is assistant secretary of the navy, saying be had received it. A Glass Saved Thousands of Men. 1 “Of course I missed the old gal a good deal, but I didn’t regret it fer a minute, although- m admit I didn’t bank much on ever seeing her ag’in. “Well, do you know about three weeks ago I got one of these letters from across that had been opened by the censor; I couldn’t imagine who it was from, and I looked at it quite a while before I opened it, but when I did I sure got a good surprise. I’ve got the letter here in my pocket and you can read it for yourself.” He took out a large, old-fashioned wallet from an inside coat pocket and took a letter from its spacious depths and handed it to me to read. “Mr. Benj. F. Buck: “Dear Sir—l have in my possession, aboard the U. S. torpedo destroyer j , a spyglass on which your name is engraved. As I am aware that a great many patriotic citizens have contributed such articles to the U. S. navy, I take it for granted that you were one of that number. As this glass was only yesterday probably the means of saving the lives of several thousands of our boys on one of our transports. I thought it might interest you to be acquainted with the fact. Of course naval regulations are such that I cannot at present give you the

details of the affair, but after the war is over, I hope to meet you and tell you about it. I would like to say tn addition how much we appreciate having such a fine glass aboard and we all feel sure that it will help us in the future as it did yesterday. * “Yours truly, “J. R. E., “Commanding Destroyer J ." “Thar,” said Cap’n Ben, “isn’t that the windup of quite a yarn? Just think of that old glass saving the lives of so many of our boys! Why, some of them boys on that transport might have been from our own village. Who knows? Do yer know if I hadn’t sent them that glass I don’t believe I could have looked the women who have Sent their boys in the face again. “Well, so long, Son; my train is in. I guess I must be gettln’ aboard. Be sure and come and see us next summer.”