such and such a street,' where the public find a staff of clerks in
green caps, about as pleasing to behold as broker's men."

"Nucingen," pursued Bixiou, "had supported the firm of Charles
Claparon and Company with all his credit. There were markets in which
you might safely put a million francs' worth of Claparon's paper. So
du Tillet proposed to bring his firm of Claparon to the fore. So said,
so done. In 1825 the shareholder was still an unsophisticated being.
There was no such thing as cash lying at call. Managing directors did
not pledge themselves not to put their own shares upon the market;
they kept no deposit with the Bank of France; they guaranteed nothing.
They did not even condescend to explain to shareholders the exact
limits of their liabilities when they informed them that the directors
in their goodness, refrained from asking any more than a thousand, or
five hundred, or even two hundred and fifty francs. It was not given
out that the experiment in _aere publico_ was not meant to last for more
than seven, five, or even three years, so that shareholders would not
have long to wait for the catastrophe. It was in the childhood of the
art. Promoters did not even publish the gigantic prospectuses with
which they stimulate the imagination, and at the same time make
demands for money of all and sundry."

"That only comes when nobody wishes to part with money," said Couture.

"In short, there was no competition in investments," continued Bixiou.
"Paper-mache manufacturers, cotton printers, zinc-rollers, theatres,
and newspapers as yet did not hurl themselves like hunting dogs upon
their quarry--the expiring shareholder. 'Nice things in shares,' as
Couture says, put thus artlessly before the public, and backed up by
the opinions of experts ('the princes of science'), were negotiated