My friends, that man had never heerd of Wall Street, and I'de bet all
the money I can borrer on it.

With such a prop as this ere little territory, where games of chance are
"entered into accordin' to the act of Congress," to cote from a familiar
passage in every printed copy of PUNCHINELLO, the Perfesser could have
raised this little hemisfeer quicker than any of you chaps can gobble up
a greenhorn.

And, sirs, I'me sorry to be obliged to speak plain, it would be a darned
site more to your credit if you'd try and raise the earth, instead of
daily usin' Wall Street as a base of operations to raise H----,
well--excuse me, the futer asilum for retired brokers.

How do you manage, when you want to make a steak?

You run up stocks and produce a crysis.

Outsiders rush in lickety smash, and invest all the money they can rake
and scrape, in these inflated stocks. Suddenly you prick the bubble,
when, alas! besides the cry-sis, there's more cry-bubs in and about Wall
Street than there was in Egipt, when NAPOLEON BONAPART chopped off the
heads off all the first born. Instances have been known, where a good
many of you chaps have rammed your head in the Tiger's mouth once too
often.

If my memry serves me correctly, FISKE and GOOLD made you perambulate
off on your eyebrows, last fall, and while the a-4-said Tigers walked
off with the seats of your trowserloons in their teeth, you all jined in