Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1905-06-05
CHAPTER K.
A Flutter in Values.

Could the picture of Jacob Little above
Richard Strong desk have descended from
its frame that morning and stridden forth
In flesh undoubtedly that speculator of tie
street would have rubbed his thin hands In
delight. AS 1t was, his eyes appeared to
glow in portraiture and his features to
sharpen with Zest Here's Excitement
here's life!" the little man seemed to say, as
is he were enthusiastically an inky SEM
blance of a mortal. but the real Jacob
who could paper his office with notes he
had forgiven the members of the board
And truly the scene at the stock exchange
was inspiring enough to draw to the tenn
pie of finance all Tennie Clafiins band of
ghostIy. wagering veterans. the spirits or
those first Wall street gamesters who met
and organized beneath the shadow of the
buttonwood tree; or the venturesome long
or-short" gentlemen of the board who held
forth betimes in the offices of the old
Courier and Journal. The great money
temple itself had not long been built. and
represented the evolution of the ancient
Tontine Coffee House, the bourse OF the
early fathers.
Like Solomon's temple, the foundations
were on the rock. 1t also had several en-
frances, after the fashion of that ancient
proud edifice but no Gate Beautiful. A
soft religious light, however, pervaded its
interior. Nor the odor of incense
wanting; a ventilating apparatus took the
place of swinging censers and supplied pure
air and perfumes for the devotees. There
stood not one altar. but many. each Of
which served specific purpose and was
surrounded by certain of the elect.
The edifice was crowded From Broad,
New and Wall streets the people came
and went. swarming In and out the main
and back entrances and thronging about
the Wall street door. Upon the floor or
the temple no place had been arbitrarily
fixed for Jews and Gentiles; they brushed
against one another, brethren in the ritual
of fortune. The service was neither Ju-
daical nor Christian. but partook of sem
sational fanaticism, like that of a barbaric
religious feast of old. Only these modern
worshpers did not cut and hack their
faces or breasts. but one another's for
tunes.
II wonder what spring Storm Is
drinking from now?'' laughed one
of the devotees after an unusual
ly animated exhibition about the
altar especially set apart for that gentle
mans securities.
1T may be a s-s-spring at Saratoga, but
it's a d-d-deluge for d. B. and c. at home,
said the gentle, soothing voice of the person
addressed.
ooh. it is, Is it?'' thought Tim Taplin.
who was hurrying by at that moment. all
ears and eyes What would you say IL
you knew he was right here in New York;
And Tim glanced knowingly at the speak
ers; then wriggled himself out of the multi
tude. Hubbub and racket followed him: a
babel of voices. shrill, clamorous, stem
torian For a moment he stood on the
verge of the tumult. and then plunged into
the street and the bright sunshine.
AS he turned away his ears vibrated to
the din but-such is habit-he soon forgot
the discord and riotous spectacle, and, be-
fore he reached the office had begun TO
hum the latest parody on the Italian opera: