A COMING BIG BORE.
Being a probable Extract from the "City Intelligence" for 1900.
The half-yearly meeting to discuss the Report just issued by the Chairman and Directors of the Amalgamated International Anglo-French Submarine Channel Tunnel Railway Company was held in the Company's Fortress Boardroom yesterday afternoon, and, owing to the present critical Continental outlook, as might have been expected, succeeded in securing the attendance of an unusually large number of shareholders.
The Chairman, who on rising was received with prolonged hooting and a chorus, again and again renewed con amore by the assembled audience, of "And he's a jolly bad fellow!" having, at length, though frequently interrupted, obtained something like a hearing, was understood to say, that he had little to offer in the shape of comment on the Report submitted to the meeting. (Groans.) The causes of its unsatisfactory nature were patent to all. Owing to their having been compelled, in what he now fully recognised was a slavish and mistaken obedience to a popular clamour (a Voice, "You're right!"), three years ago, in the height of a sudden scare about invasion—("Oh! oh!")—to let the water in and flood the Tunnel—(groans)—they had been occupied ever since in pumping it out again, and though now he was glad to announce that the last bucketful had been emptied out, and that the traffic would be resumed forthwith—(cheers)—still the operation had cost them three millions of money, that they had to get from the market in the shape of Seventeen per Cent. First Preference Debentures—("Oh! oh!")—on which, however, he trusted that a favourable season's receipts might enable them possibly to pay a next half-year's dividend of three and sixpence. (Prolonged groans.) It was not much; still, it was something. ("Oh! oh!") But if they wished to secure even this modest remuneration for their money, they must make up their minds, especially at the present moment, when there was a daily,—he might almost say, an hourly,—expectation of the withdrawal of their Ambassador from Paris, that there must be no more craven yielding to delusive impulses of an idiotic patriotism—(loud cheers),—in a word, no more talk about closing the Tunnel on the paltry plea of "national security." (Prolonged cheering.) He was glad to hear those cheers. It was an endorsement of the standpoint that he and his Directors meant to take in the present crisis, which was, in effect, to remind themselves that they were shareholders of the Anglo-French Submarine Channel Tunnel Railway Company first—and Englishmen afterwards—(thunders of applause, and loud and prolonged cheering);—and that, if called upon to shed their life's blood, it would be solely in defence of that great engineering work, the true monument of peace, in which their aspirations, their hopes, and, above all, their capital, had been so fearlessly embarked and largely invested.(Renewed enthusiasm.)
A Shareholder here rose, and said, that if there really was, as the Chairman seemed to imply, a probability that war with our friendly neighbours might break out at any minute, would it not be advisable, in the interests of the Company, to come to some amicable and therefore satisfactory commercial arrangement for the transit of troops through the Tunnel, which, no doubt, it would be their first object to secure.(Laughter.) There might possibly be some stupid attempt of our own Government forces to seize upon and even damage, with a view to rendering the Tunnel useless, the works commanding this end of it. Should not a Volunteer Corps of Shareholders be at once organised—("Hear! hear!")—for the purpose of keeping them until the French Military Authorities came over in sufficient force to enable them to seize and securely hold them against all comers? He trusted he was not wanting in a well-balanced and legitimate patriotism—("No! no!")—but like their respected Chairman, he felt that there was a higher claim, a louder call than that addressed to an Englishman by his country, and that was the deep, grim, stern and stirring appeal made to the Seventeen per Cent. Debenture-holder by his Company.(Roars of laughter.)
Considerable uproar here arose over the ejection from the meeting of a protesting Shareholder, who injudiciously proposed an Amendment to the Report to the effect that, "In the face of grave National danger, the Company ought to be prepared, even if it involved serious financial loss, to close their Tunnel, if such a step should be regarded as necessary to the security of the country by the military advisers of the Government." This proposition was howled down, and the Chairman was again about to address the now somewhat quieted meeting, when a copy of an evening paper, announcing the declaration of war, and the simultaneous seizure of the British end of the Tunnel that morning by two hundred French troops, who had crossed from Boulogne by yesterday's evening Mail-boat, and had passed the night at Folkestone in disguise, was handed up on to the platform.
The Chairman (after reading out the various items of intelligence to the Audience, who listened to them with breathless excitement). Well, Gentlemen, in the face of this not entirely unsuspected news—(laughter)-our course is, I think, pretty clear. We must at once dispatch a deputation to make the best terms we can with the French General in command, for the transit of the one or two, or even three hundred thousand troops they propose to bring over. (Cheers.) Even if we get only an excursion fare out of them, it will be something. ("Hear, hear!") And, at least, we shall be able to congratulate ourselves on this occasion with a sterling and heartfelt satisfaction that, whether the country go to the dogs or not—(roars of laughter)—the property of the Company will, at any rate, be preserved. (Enthusiastic applause.) The Chairman, who continued his address amid mingled cheers and laughter in the same strain, having submitted the names to form the proposed deputation to the meeting, the Shareholders dispersed, apparently in the highest spirits, singing a parody of the great national ditty, in which the line, "Britons ever, ever, ever will be knaves," with an accompaniment of loud guffaws of laughter, struck the listening ear, as they betook themselves to their respective homes.
THE IRISH QUESTION IN BOND STREET.
Very calmly and pleasantly is this matter settled at Messrs. Dowdeswell's Galleries. Mr. O. Rickatson takes us a mighty pleasant tour through Wicklow, Wexford, and Waterford. He gives us his views on the Land Question (Shure there are Sixty-two of them, bedad!) in Water-colours, and very bright, breezy, and delightful they are. If they will have Home Rule, if they persist in having Ireland for the Irish, we have no desire to pick a quarrel with this accomplished aquarelliste (Ha! ha!) for showing us the beauties of the "distrissful counthry;" and if we are not allowed to have the real thing, we shall find the peaceful possession of Mr. Rickatson's delightful pictures no mean substitute.