The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1890-05-27
oLp HUTCH IN OFF HOURS.
The Master of the Chicago Wheat
Pit a close Student and a Good
TaIkeY.

CHICAGO. May 26.-When the market
is active and the wheat pit ON the floor
Of the board of trade contains n buzz-
ing, shouting, screaming swarm of
brokers, the eyes of those most deeply
interested are not SO much ON the dial
where the fluctuations in price are being
constantly registered as on a grim and
terror inspiring figure stalking about
near the grand staircase. This is "Old
HUTCH" as he has been christened by
those who have fallen in the fray. So
large percentage of the population
bear the scars of wounds received in the
wheat pit that the fame of B. P. Hutch
inson as fnancier is obscured by the
notoriety of "Old Hutch"
Probably no prominent character in
the west is more generally misunderstood
than he. Even his enemies have to ac-
knowledge that his most disastrous forays
on the market have invariably been pre-
coded by repeated warnings to the crowd
to ''stand from UNDER" which, had they
been accepted, would have meant safety.
Unprejudiced observers can see plainly
enough that what some of his rivals ac-
complish by means of trickery, luck and
reckless ''bluffing," this much traduced
veteran owes to his extraordinary physi-
cal vitality, his phenomenal energy and
vigilance that never relaxes for moment.
A very few of Mr.. Hutchinson's bust
ness associates know him as something
more than the terror of the wheat mar
ket, and they thoroughly enjoy his So
ciety. When change opens they stand
aloof, for the cold man" is carrying in
his mind the operations of dozen brok-
ers, who are reporting constantly how
the battle wages in the pit. When the
bell taps at the close the veteran stalks
little way up the street to his bank, the
Corn Exchange. Here the loose ends of
the days business are picked up and
some laconic general orders issued for
the morrow Toward p. IN. few con-
genial spirits will be found in the Century
club drinking in the wisdom that falls
from the lips of "Old Hutch" But if
any one expects to hear a word about
how to get money out of wheat, or out
of anything else for that matter, disap-
pointment awaits him.
1t is Thoreau, his favorite philosopher,
Margaret Fuller, the dispersion of the
races, the theory of evolution, the poetry
of Browning, Tennyson, Dante, Shake
speare, evolution, religion, art music,
medicine-the whole range of subjects
which appeal to the intelligence Of en-
hghtened humanity supply texts for the
discourse of this wonderful man. His
grammar is often faulty, and his pronun-
citation occasionally something to smile
at. He sees the smile and affably ex-
plains how he never went to school a
day in his life. But he has rugged
eloquence that never fails to impress
those who listen. They know that this
man, who is master of trade and finance,
has read more books than the professors,
and read them better; that he knows
pictures and poetry better than the pain
tiers and the poets; that he has looked
deep into the lives of the men and
women of history and found in them
more than their biographers dreamed of.
Often the old man holds forth on these
matters, over an occasional glass of beer
and cheese sandwich, until within an
hour of dawn. Then his little audience
crawls off to bed. But bed is not in the
thoughts of "Old Hutch" He gives his
big form shake, and, going to the office
of his favorite newspaper, buys the first
sheet wet from the press, boards horse
car and is at the stock yards by sunrise
Usually day thus begun makes history
in the wheat pit