Mr Alfred Brown's death recalls the career of one who might be said to have "lived in the midst of alarms"; for to him we owe not only the fire-alarms of the street corners that have done so much to decrease the danger of fires, but also the alarm clock, which has decreased the risk of "being fired." We are so accustomed to that insistent mechanical racket that chivvies away our dreams and bids us salute the morning that it is difficult to realise how the worker was wakened before its invention to ensure a timely arrival at work.
There was - indeed, there still is - the "knocker-up," whose pole tattoos the window in the "wee sma' hours" - probably the most vituperated employee in industry - but there would hardly be sufficient volunteers for this thankless task to awaken all the world's workers. Sailors and hammock-sleepers can be aroused by letting down the bunk, but this requires that someone be obliged to spend the night awake. I remember an estate agent in the West who was sometimes required to rise very early to get to the scene of his day's work, and had hit upon an ingenious contrivance. He suspended a heavy weight at a height from the floor by his bedhead and carried the cord that held it through a candle, having calculated just how long it would take for the candle to burn down a given length. At the right moment the flame ignited the cord and the weight fell, awakening the agent by the noise it made.
The Irish Times, March 16th, 1931.