"Your name, please."
"Michael O'Connor, twinty-wan —— Wharf, junk-dealer and licensed
liquor-seller."
There was a slight stir of expectancy among those present. The president
glanced at me, waiting for me to verify O'Connor's statement. I had run
my finger down the O's in the list of names, well knowing, of course,
O'Connor's was not there. I shook my head.
"Your name does not seem to appear on the list, Mr. O'Connor," said the
president.
"Shure, I only bought me shtock this mornin', sor," replied O'Connor
with a reassuring and comforting wave of the hand to the chief officer
of the company. Chimmie, at his elbow still, handed him a paper from a
bunch of many he held ready in his hand. O'Connor passed it up to the
president, with the remark, "Here is me credintials, sor, av you plaze."
That gentleman merely glanced at it, then returned it to O'Connor, and
said,
"A certificate of stock, I see. Did you expect to vote?"
"Dthat's phwat I kem here fer," said O'Connor, with a quick nod of the
head, which showed that the royal blood was stirring.
Then the president explained to him that the transfer-books were closed,
and that, by the by-laws of the company, nobody was allowed to vote at
its meetings except such persons as were duly registered holders of its
stock, or were holders of a proxy from somebody who was.
[Illustration: Enter O'Connor and Chimmie.—Page 228.]
"Proxy, is ut!" exclaimed O'Connor. "Chimmie, me boy, give me the odther
wan." Jimmie handed him a second paper, which he in turn handed to the
president.
[Illustration: The royal blood was now at boiling-point.—Page 232.]
"This seems to be perfectly regular, dated to-day, from Andrew J. Ahearn,
for five hundred shares," the president said, and handed the proxy to me.
The stir of expectation had become a ripple of excitement. I observed
that Mr. Walker moved uneasily.
"Yis, sor," said O'Connor, with a touch of ludicrous _aplomb_. "Andy
Ahearn—shure, the ould divil wouldn't give me the wan widout I bought
the odther. And now, thin, sor, I have the privilege to vote, is ut?"
The president bowed and looked about the room for some other person who
might have business before the meeting.
"Thin I, Michael O'Connor," the old fellow continued, to everybody's
surprise and amusement, "do hereby vote on these five hunder'
shares"—here he held the certificate aloft in his right hand—"for Mr.
Hinry Haitch Cutting, Esquire, so help me God, and——"
He was interrupted by a roar of laughter. Mr. Walker was now on his
feet. When the laughter ceased, he said:
"Mr. President, are we to take this stockholder as a fair example of
Mr. Cutting's faithful following?"
The question was greeted with silence. Mr. Walker had made a blunder,
and he was instantly made to feel it. O'Connor spoke again, quietly and
slowly, addressing the presiding officer, but looking angrily at the
interrupter through half-closed eyelids, his nose held high. As he spoke
he gently smoothed down his long upper lip at the corners with thumb
and forefinger.
"Mr. Prisidint," he said, "I think—I dunno-o—but may-be-e—I have the
floo-or?"
The president bowed, but added that it was not yet time to take a vote.
Those who are familiar with the Irish well know how rarely you find one
with absolutely _no_ knowledge of parliamentary procedure. It seems
to be imbibed with the mother's milk. O'Connor was not in the least
disconcerted. "Thin, sor," he continued, "wid your kind permission, I
will make a few remarks."
"I shall be glad to hear them, Mr. O'Connor," the president said. A small
wave of approval passed over the meeting. O'Connor placed his thumbs
firmly in the armholes of his waistcoat, planted his feet well apart,
and began. The royal blood was up.
"Mr. Prisidint and gintlemin," with a low, sweeping bow from left to
right, "and Jarge Double-ye Walker." Here he cleared his throat to allow
his sarcasm time to penetrate the understanding of his hearers. It did.
"Whidther or not I am a fair example uv _ahl_ Mr. Hinry Haitch Cutting
Esquire's fait'ful follyers, I am unabil to say, they bein' so large in
noomber, by God's justice. _But_, Mr. Prisidint and gintlemin, and Jarge
Double-ye Walker, wid ahl modesty, I do claim to be a fair example av some
thirty-foor av Mr. Hinry Haitch Cutting Esquire's fait'ful follyers, who
owns bechune thim two t'ousand wan hunder' and sivin shares, countin' me
own five hunder'. They are ivery wan av thim Oirish, includin' mesilf,
and I have the proxies av ivery wan av thim, includin' me own. Put that
in your poipe, Jarge Double-ye Walker." The royal blood was getting
hot. A round of applause burst from Mr. Cutting's party, but it quickly
subsided at the sharp rap of the president's gavel upon the table. This,
however, had little effect upon O'Connor. The royal blood was now at
boiling-point.
"Moreover, Jarge Double-ye Walker," he continued, too quickly for
interruption, and emphasizing each clause with clenched fists, "they
pays their taxes, they pays their bills. They has paid for their
little hard-earned holdin's in this company, and—some av thim owns
tinimint-houses, but not one wid bad plumbin' and defective drainage,
Jarge Double-ye Walker."
Caution had been royally thrown to the winds. The president rapped hard
and long upon his desk. The listeners moved uneasily in their seats.
"Mr. O'Connor," the president said, sharply, "you must confine your
remarks to the business in hand and address them to the chair, or I must
ask you to take your seat."
"I ax your pardon, Mr. Prisidint," said O'Connor. He was now his old
self, and went on with homely courtesy, to say: "It is my wish, sor,
to say just a few worruds more regyardin' me idee av phwat conshtitutes
the fitness av a man for the job av managin' the affairs av odthers than
himself—wid your kind permission, Mr. Prisidint, and I'll not be long,
at all, at all." The president bowed. As the old Irishman continued,
his voice grew soft and tender, at times sinking almost to a whisper.
"I am unabil, bein' mesilf uneddi_cay_ted and a plain man, to deshcribe
to yez just phwat I'm wantin' to tell yez. But maybe you'll know from
this. Twinty year ago come the tinth av this prisint month, I wint to
worruk for a certin gintleman, to do chores about the place and phwat
gyardenin' and potherin' round the grounds was nicissary. He had a purty
place in the country—a rale pur-rty place, and there was a shweet little
house there he putt me in—all for mesilf and me wife and me baby—a
little gurrul she was, wan year old. I had been to worruk in the city,
where I lived in a tinimint—noomber t'ree Gay's Alley, so called it was.
Me wife was ailin', and the baby was takin' afther her modther at the
time; so, shure, it was deloighted we was at the chanst to live in the
country and wid our new place. A lovely home it was. Well, just tin days
afther we kem, me wife was tuk wid fever—typhide fever it was—and two
days afther little Mollie was tuk, too, just the same. Oh! wurra! wurra!
but thim was heart-breakin' days! But niver moind, I'll not bodther you
wid ahl av it. Wan night me wife was terrible bad, little Mollie bein'
ashleep in the nixt room, and not near so bad as her modther, to my
thinkin'. The docthor kem, and wid him the gintleman that emplyed me.
Whin the docthor had looked at the two, he sez to me, 'The modther is
very low,' he sez, 'but she will come t'rough all right; but the young
un,' he sez, 'is in a viry criticil condition. She'll need conshtant
attintion,' he sez, 'and I cannot be here mesilf,' he sez, 'to save her
life!' Me heart died in me that minute.
"But quick, wid no hesitation, the gintleman sez to the docthor, callin'
him by name, he bein' a frind av his, he sez, 'John,' he sez, 'I'll look
afther the little one mesilf durin' the night,' he sez. 'I've done it
before this, as you know,' he sez; 'and come again, you, in the mornin','
he sez."
Here the old man paused. There was perfect silence in the room. When he
again spoke, it was in a hoarse whisper, but he could be distinctly heard.
"For t'ree whole nights—long, sad, weary nights—the gintleman niver
lift the side av Mollie's bed, onliss whin he crep' in to putt his
hand on me shoulder and say to me, 'Keep up, me man. We'll pull 'em
both t'rough, all right'—and we did that same. Glory be to God and the
Blessed Virgin! they're alive and well this day, the two av thim.
"Well, Mr. Prisidint and gintlemin, I am not eddi_cay_ted and I dunno-o—I
may be wrong, but to my moind that gintleman is the kind av a man that
hav fitness for the job av managin' the affairs av odthers beside himself.
And that gintleman is Mr. Hinry Haitch Cutting, Esquire."
He paused and looked about him sheepishly; then turning so as to face
Mr. Walker, he said:
"Mr. Jarge Double-ye Walker, I ax your pardon for shpeakin' so rough to
ye, sor. 'Tis ahl past and gone now, sor, and I bear ye no ill-will." Then
to the president he said, quietly, "Thank you kindly, Mr. Prisidint;"
and taking his hat, moved back among those who were standing near the
door.
Mr. Cutting now moved that we proceed to the election of officers for
the ensuing year. The motion was carried.
When the ballots were counted, it was found that the existing officers
had received the votes of twenty-seven thousand and some odd shares,
thus having a clear majority. We could, of course, tell exactly how many
votes were due to O'Connor's proxies; but how many more were due to his
personal presence at the meeting, we could only estimate.