Frequently one day’s advance in price would cover a whole year’s interest or more. Nor did it matter that brokers’ commissions had nearly doubled, and that this gigantic “kitty” was taking millions of dollars in toll every day. It works on the same principle as poker: if seven players sit into a game with a “kitty,” it’s only a question of time when at least six of them will go broke. I heard one trader proudly declare that in three years he had paid his broker upward of half a million dollars in commissions, and nearly twice that amount in interest. Now and again the brokers’ letters and the comments of financial editors contained notes of warning, but the public having got the bit firmly in its teeth was like a runaway team: it could neither see nor hear anything that stood in the way of progress. Facts were more conclusive than theories; and since those arrayed on the constructive side had all the advantage in their favor for an almost uninterrupted period of several years, they indulged themselves in a delirium of dreams from which there appeared to be no awakening. It was as useless to warn people of the inevitable results as it would be to warn a young flapper against the approach of old age, or a carousing young sinner that the Judgment Day is coming. Many speculators were willing to admit that stocks might react sometime, but they were too drunk with prosperity to worry about anything so far in the future. The one thing that annoyed them was the occasional appearance of some venturesome “bear” at their banquet. Whereas in the past the bulls and bears had regarded each other as friendly antagonists, the bulls now came to look upon the bears as the deadly enemies of bullish society, and for a time this animal was threatened with total extinction. Anyone discovered short of stocks was viewed in about the same light as one caught with stolen goods; he was punished accordingly and the feast went merrily on. I know, because I was one of the offenders. But fortunately I got off with a light sentence.