“I tell you again, I do not think that it would be suitable to convert this boat into the Company’s office.—That unfortunate man, did you relieve him at all?”
“Let the unfortunate man relieve himself.—Hand me the statement.”
“Well, you are such a business-man, I can hardly deny you. Here,” handing a small, printed pamphlet.
The youth turned it over sagely.
“I hate a suspicious man,” said the other, observing him; “but I must say I like to see a cautious one.”
“I can gratify you there,” languidly returning the pamphlet; “for, as I said before, I am naturally inquisitive; I am also circumspect. No appearances can deceive me. Your statement,” he added “tells a very fine story; but pray, was not your stock a little heavy awhile ago? downward tendency? Sort of low spirits among holders on the subject of that stock?”
“Yes, there was a depression. But how came it? who devised it? The ‘bears,’ sir. The depression of our stock was solely owing to the growling, the hypocritical growling, of the bears.”
“How, hypocritical?”
“Why, the most monstrous of all hypocrites are these bears: hypocrites by inversion; hypocrites in the simulation of things dark instead of bright; souls that thrive, less upon depression, than the fiction of depression; professors of the wicked art of manufacturing depressions; spurious Jeremiahs; sham Heraclituses, who, the lugubrious day done, return, like sham Lazaruses among the beggars, to make merry over the gains got by their pretended sore heads—scoundrelly bears!”
“You are warm against these bears?”