VOObyM

Reminiscences of a Stock Operator
The loss of the money didn't bother me. Whenever I have lost money in the stock market
I have always considered that I have learned something; that if I have lost money I have
gained experience, so that the money really went for a tuition fee. A man has to have
experience and he has to pay for it. But there was something that hurt a whole lot in that
experience of mine in Dan Williamson's office, and that was the loss of a great
opportunity. The money a man loses is nothing; he can make it up. But opportunities
such as I had then do not come every day.
The market, you see, had been a fine trading market. I was right; I mean, I was reading it
accurately. The opportunity to make millions was there. But I allowed my gratitude to
interfere with my play. I tied my own hands. I had to do what Dan Williamson in his
kindness wished done. Altogether it was more unsatisfactory than doing business with a
relative. Bad business!
And that wasn't the worst thing about it. It was that after that there was practically no
opportunity for me to make big money. The market flattened out. Things drifted from
bad to worse. I not only lost all I had but got into debt again more heavily than ever.
Those were long lean years, 1911, 1912, 1913 and 1914. There was no money to be
made. The opportunity simply wasn't there and so I was worse off than ever.
It isn't uncomfortable to lose when the loss is not accompanied by a poignant vision of
what might have been. That was precisely what I could not keep my mind from dwelling
on, and of course it unsettled me further. I learned that the weaknesses to which a
speculator is prone are almost numberless. It was proper for me as a man to act the way I
did in Dan Williamson's office, but it was improper and unwise for me as a speculator to
allow myself to be influenced by any consideration to act against my own judgment.
Noblesse oblige but not in the stock market, because the tape is not chivalrous and
moreover does not reward loyalty. I realise that I couldn't have acted differently. I
couldn't make myself over just because I wished to trade in the stock market. But
business is business always, and my business as a speculator is to back my own
judgment always.
It was a very curious experience. I'll tell you what I think happened. Dan Williamson
was perfectly sincere in what he told me when he first saw me. Every time his firm did a
few thousand shares in any one stock the Street jumped at the conclusion that Alvin
Marquand was buying or selling. He was the big trader of the office, to be sure, and he
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