Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 16, 2025
Bob Brownley continued buying Sugar until he had pushed it above 150. He then went about tallying up his trades. At the end of ten minutes' calculation he returned to the centre and bought 11,000 shares more; coming out, his eye caught mine. "Jim, have you been here long?" "An eternity. I was here at the opening and I pray God never to put me through another two hours like the past two.
When I think of what I was when your father stood us up in his office and started us in this heart-shrivelling, soul-callousing business, and what I am now, I cannot keep the madness down except with rum. You know what it means for me to say this, me who started with all the pride of a Brownley; but it is so, Jim.
His hair, which once was smooth and orderly, hung over his forehead in an unparted mass of tangled curls, and here and there showed a streak of white. Bob Brownley was still handsome, even more fascinating than before the mercury entered his soul, but it was that wild, awful beauty of the caged lion, lashing himself into madness with memories of his lost freedom.
Jim, I have found since I have been over on the floor that the Southern gambling blood that made my grandfather, on one of his trips back from New York, though he had more land and slaves than he could use, stake his land and slaves yes, and grandmother's too on a card-game, and lose, and change the whole face of the Brownley destiny those same gambling microbes are in my blood, and when they begin to claw and gnaw I want to do something; and, Jim" and the big brown eyes suddenly shot sparks "if those microbes ever get unleashed, there'll be mischief to pay on the floor sure there will!"
"The day on which the stock-gambling structure falls is the day for which all honest men and women should pray." Bob Brownley paused and let his eyes sweep his dumfounded audience. There was not a murmur. The crowd was speechless. Again his eyes swept the room. Then he slowly raised his right hand with fist clenched, as though about to deal a blow.
"I am Beulah Sands, of Sands Landing, Virginia. Your people know our people, Mr. Brownley, probably well enough for you to place me." "Of the Judge Lee Sands's?" asked Bob, as he held out his hand.
Brownley, please, for the sake of the work we have to do, look on the bright side of this calamity, for it has a bright side. You wanted me to send word to my father that we were about to grasp victory. Think if we had sent it then you will know that God is good, even when we think he is chastening us beyond endurance." Bob took me into his office.
But she made no comment, showed by no outward sign that she suffered. As soon as I was through she turned to Bob, who had stood with his eyes fastened upon her face, as though somewhere out of its soft beauty must come an assurance that this was all a bad dream. "Mr. Brownley," she said, "let us figure up just where we stand, so that we may know what to do to recoup.
Later, I learned to know that nothing is queer and unnatural in the world of human suffering; that great human suffering turns all that is queer and unnatural into commonplace. Next day Bessie Brown came to our office to see Bob. Not being able to get at him she asked for me. "Mr. Randolph, tell me, please, what shall I do with this paper?" she said. "I met Mr. Brownley in the Battery yesterday.
"Who the deuce can she be, coming in at this time on Saturday, just when all alive men are in a rush to shake the heat and dirt of business for food and the good air of all outdoors?" growled Bob. Then he said, "Show her in." Another minute and he had his answer. A lady entered. "Mr. Brownley?" She waited an instant to make sure he was the Virginian. Bob bowed.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking