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.You may remember the story I told you about that time when I was short thirty-fivehundred Sugar in the Cosmopolitan and I had a hunch something was wrong and I'dbetter close the trade? Well, I have often had that curious feeling.As a rule, I yield to it.But at times I have pooh-poohed the idea and have told myself that it was simply asinineto follow any of these sudden blind impulses to reverse my position.I have ascribed myhunch to a state of nerves resulting from too many cigars or insufficient sleep or a torpidliver or something of that kind.When I have argued myself into disregarding myimpulse and have stood pat I have always had cause to regret it.A dozen instances occurto me when I did not sell as per hunch, and the next day I'd go downtown and the marketwould be strong, or perhaps even advance, and I'd tell myself how silly it would havebeen to obey the blind impulse to sell.But on the following day there would be a prettybad drop.Something had broken loose somewhere and I'd have made money by notbeing so wise and logical.The reason plainly was not physiological but psychological.I want to tell you only about one of them because of what it did for me.It happenedwhen I was having that little vacation in Atlantic City in the spring of 1906.I had afriend with me who also was a customer of Harding Brothers.I had no interest in themarket one way or another and was enjoying my rest.I can always give up trading to- 57 - Reminiscences of a Stock Operatorplay, unless of course it is an exceptionally active market in which my commitments arerather heavy.It was a bull market, as I remember it.The outlook was favorable forgeneral business and the stock market had slowed down but the tone was firm and allindications pointed to higher prices.One morning after we had breakfasted and had finished reading all the New Yorkmorning papers, and had got tired of watching the sea gulls picking up clams and flyingup with them twenty feet in the air and dropping them on the hard wet sand to open themfor their breakfast, my friend and I started up the Boardwalk.That was the most excitingthing we did in the daytime.It was not noon yet, and we walked up slowly to kill time and breathe the salt air.Harding Brothers had a branch office on the Boardwalk and we used to drop in everymorning and see how they'd opened.It was more force of habit than anything else, for Iwasn't doing anything.The market, we found, was strong and active.My friend, who was quite bullish, wascarrying a moderate line purchased several points lower.He began to tell me what anobviously wise thing it was to hold stocks for much higher prices.I wasn't payingenough attention to him to take the trouble to agree with him.I was looking over thequotation board, noting the changes they were mostly advances until I came to UnionPacific.I got a feeling that I ought to sell it.I can't tell you more.I just felt like selling it.I asked myself why I should feel like that, and I couldn't find any reason whatever forgoing short of UP.I stared at the last price on the board until I couldn't see any figures or any board oranything else, for thatmatter.All I knew was that I wanted to sell Union Pacific and I couldn't find out why Iwanted to.I must have looked queer, for my friend, who was standing alongside of me,suddenly nudged me and asked, "Hey, what's the matter?""I don't know," I answered."Going to sleep?" he said."No," I said."I am not going to sleep.What I am going to do is to sell that stock." I had- 58 - Reminiscences of a Stock Operatoralways made money following my hunches.I walked over to a table where there weresome blank order pads.My friend followed me.I wrote out an order to sell a thousandUnion Pacific at the market and handed it to the manager.He was smiling when I wroteit and when he took it.But when he read the order he stopped smiling and looked at me."Is this right?" he asked me.But I just looked at him and he rushed it over to theoperator."What are you doing?" asked my friend."I'm selling it!" I told him."Selling what?" he yelled at me.If he was a bull how could I be a bear? Something waswrong."A thousand UP," I said."Why?" he asked me in great excitement.I shook my head, meaning I had no reason.But he must have thought I'd got a tip,because he took me by the arm and led me outside into the hall, where we could be outof sight and hearing of the other customers and rubbering chair-warmers."What did you hear?" he asked me.He was quite excited.UP.was one of his pets and hewas bullish on it because of its earnings and its prospects
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