A man can’t spend years at one thing and not acquire a habitual attitude towards it quite unlike that of the average beginner. The difference distinguishes the professional from the amateur. It is the way a man looks at things that makes or loses money for him in the speculative markets. The public has the dilettante’s point of view toward his own effort. The ego obtrudes itself unduly and the thinking therefore is not deep or exhaustive. The professional concerns himself with doing the right thing rather than with making money, knowing that the profit takes care of itself if the other things are attended to. A trader gets to play the game as the professional billiard player does--that is, he looks far ahead instead of considering the particular shot before him. It gets to be an instinct to play for position. I remember hearing a story about Addison Cammack that illustrates very nicely what I wish to point out. From all I have heard, I am inclined to think that _Cammack_ was one of the ablest stock traders the Street ever saw. He was not a chronic bear as many believe, but he felt the greater appeal of trading on the bear side, of utilizing in his behalf the two great human factors of hope and fear. He is credited with coining the warning: “Don’t sell stocks when the sap is running up the trees!” and the old-timers tell me that his biggest winnings were made on the bull side, so that it is plain he did not play prejudices but conditions. At all events, he was a consummate trader. It seems that once--this was way back at the tag end of a bull market--Cammack was bearish, and J. Arthur Joseph, the financial writer and raconteur, knew it. The market, however, was not only strong but still rising, in response to prodding by the bull leaders and optimistic reports by the newspapers. Knowing what use a trader like Cammack could make of bearish information, Joseph rushed to Cammack’s office one day with glad tidings. “Mr. Cammack, I have a very good friend who is a transfer clerk in the St. Paul office and he has just told me something which I think you ought to know.” “What is it?” asked Cammack listlessly. “You’ve turned, haven’t you? You are bearish now?” asked Joseph, to make sure. If Cammack wasn’t interested he wasn’t going to waste precious ammunition. “Yes. What’s the wonderful information?” “I went around to the St. Paul office to-day, as I do in my news-gathering rounds two or three times a week, and my friend there said to me: ‘The Old Man is selling stock.’ He meant William Rockefeller. ‘Is he really, Jimmy?’ I said to him, and he answered, ‘Yes; he is selling fifteen hundred shares every three-eighths of a point up. I’ve been transferring the stock for two or three days now.’ I didn’t lose any time, but came right over to tell you.”