Diary of a Young Oil Speculator.

(Continued from the January Number)

July 16, 1884.

I was again on the floor of the Exchange today. I have not been making any money for a month and have grown decidedly restless. My disgust at the oil business is not as keen as it was some time ago. I constantly recall the fact that I could have made eight thousand dollars had I remained "short" until last month, of the twenty thousand barrels which I sold in April. After considerable deliberation I concluded to try a little "piking," and had Leslie sell five thousand barrels "short" at 64. He covered it at 6312, netting me a profit of eighteen dollars and seventy-five cents. This is a pretty good day's work.

July 18, 1884.

I sold five thousand barrels "short" at 6412 and covered it at 64; the profit is eighteen dollars and seventy-five cents.

I went calling with G- this evening and told him what I had made during the day. I am a regular "scalper" now.

July 22, 1884.

I sold five thousand barrels "short" at 625% yesterday and covered it today at 615%; the net profit is forty-six dollars and twenty-five cents. I gave Leslie a check for five hundred dollars for "margins," as my deal was not closed until today.

July 26, 1884.

I am still a "bear," and sold five thousand barrels "short" at 641%.

The "shut-down" movement, to the present time has had no effect on prices. The new Wardwell's Ferry district in Warren County is keeping up the production. I reason thus: oil was down at fifty cents last month, and is now nearly fifteen cents higher, hence it will certainly be a good

"short" sale. It ought to settle down pretty close to fifty cents again, as times instead of improving are undoubtedly becoming worse every day.

July 29, 1884.

Prices are climbing up fast; instead of being able to boast of the money I have made, I had to give Leslie a check for five hundred dollars to keep up my "margins." This makes a thousand dollars which I now have up on five thousand barrels of "short" oil.

The reports are that Wardwell is clearly defined, and playing out, and that evidences of drainage are becoming apparent. The production is ten thousand barrels a dayas high as ever it was, but hearing the same song sung so often, makes everybody, even most of the "bears" believe that the "bull" stories are true.

These mornings at breakfast my first duty is to prop the Commercial Gazette against the sugar bowl, and while eating, eagerly read what the oil reporter has to say about the preceding day's market, and the prospects for the future, and try to get encouragement to hold on.

August 7, 1884.

Another five hundred dollar check was called for. This takes about all the money I have in bank, and "margins" my oil up to about 942. The market is now between 90 and 93.

It provokes me to think that I cannot school my features so as to hide my feelings. Every evening mother scans my face to see whether I look pleased or worried. This barometer tells her without questioning whether oil has gone up or down. I try to look pleasant, but everything annoys me. I do not care about speaking or being spoken to. I feel as if the folks at home wanted to speak more when I am depressed than at other times. I am angry with people when I do not have the least cause. It appears to me that selfish human nature always likes to attribute its misfortunes to some one, even though the person blamed is in no way concerned with them. In this instance I feel angry because I have no one to blame for my trouble but myself.

This continual worry gives me a preoccupied air, and makes me abrupt in conversation. I find little pleasure anywhere. In the morning I get up red-eyed from an unrefreshing sleep. No matter where I am, at church, the theatre, or at evening parties, oil is uppermost in my mind. The depressing effect is especially strong on the days when it is raining. I felt so disheartened today that I came near "covering," but have concluded to wait a few days longer.

Sept. 8, 1884.

Yesterday we had another panic in the oil market. The newly discovered Phillips well on Thorn Creek, in Butler County, is the cause. The market made one plunge from 864 to 7758. Everybody went wild and the Exchange looked much as it did last May and June. I sold five thousan barrels more "short" at 74.

Notwithstanding the excitement, there were two things that amused me-the first was the sight of a broker gravely studying a book of prophecy, in order to be able to determine the course of the oil market; and the other was the action of a friend, an amateur speculator, in laying down rules for my guidance, by following which he declared I could not fail to make money all the time in the oil market.

Sept. 9, 1884.

I sold ten thousand barrels more "short"-five thousand at 76 and five thousand at 7612, making the average on all my oil about 73, including storage charges. Old oil men think the Phillips well has opened a big pool. I only go to the Exchange in the afternoon now; in the morning I stay at home and study.

Oct. 1, 1884.

Another well is nearly due in the Thorn Creek field. It is called the Johnston well, and has been made a "mystery." In the oil trade this means a well boarded up and all information withheld so that the owners can mystify the speculators, by sending out lying reports concerning it. The reports that the Johnston well had been boarded up, ran oil

up from 71 to 73%. The agile speculators think the well will be reported dry, no matter how it turns out.

Francis Murphy was a visitor at the Exchange today and made a little temperance speech. Mr. H, who is a saloonkeeper, took him for Mike Murphy, the oil well "mystery" man.

Oct. 15, 1884.

Yesterday the Christy Brothers struck the biggest well on Thorn Creek, that was ever known in the history of the oil trade. It is estimated that it will produce nearly six thousand barrels the first day. This is an age of wonders; who would ever have thought of a well gushing forth such a cataract of oil. It made an already weak market still weaker; the close was at 6234; and of course I feel happy with twenty thousand barrels "short" at an average price of 75.

The Uniontown crowd have been badly left this time, as they were buying oil all the way down from 90 cents.

Oct. 19, 1884.

The "shorts" were terribly squeezed or "twisted" as the newspapers put it. On Saturday oil was as low as 5914 and closed at something over 61. I would have had three thousand dollars clear profit, had I "covered" at 60. In the evening reports were circulated that the Conners well was in the sand, and was showing for a good well. Yesterday gave ample opportunity to run out to Thorn Creek, and look over the field, an opportunity that was largely embraced by the general as well as the trading public. They saw and were convinced and became "bears' or nothing." Before the opening of the Exchange, oil was sold on the "street" below 60. When the Exchange opened the "bear" spirit was still rampant, but there were exceptions. The lobby was still selling "short" as freely as it always does at the bottom. The exceptions soon became conspicuous. Instead of opening dull, weak and discouraged at about 59, the trade was electrified by an opening with a bellow at 6014. The Standard was said to be buying, and prices ran up until 7114 had been

reached. There was selling to be sure; the "bears" were selling "short" as confidently as ever. They had seen the wells, and were they not producing as represented? The "bulls" were jubilant and as they danced about the "ring" they more than once called triumphantly to the despondent "bears," "You will stay away from church, and visit oil wells, will you?" It was not soothing balm to my irritated feelings to hear the mocking expressions; one isn't in the humor for jocosity when money at the rate of a thousand dollars a day is slipping through one's fingers.

The talk now is "drainage," and it is said that the parties "inside" are playing just as they did the Wardwell tract-discounting the future by buying largely before the general public gets over its "bear" wildness, on an accidental production. This kind of talk is very discouraging to us "bears," and makes more than one feel blue even though he can make his "margins" good. People who do not speculate, tell us, that the speculator becomes callous; that nothing worries him; that no matter how much money he is losing, he still sleeps like a log at night. The story is pure fiction. A speculator may dance around and appear to be free from worry, and yet drop in his tracks the next day. I know of just such a case. The man died suddenly a short time ago, and the cause of his death was the extreme mental strain under which he labored. Girls should not marry men who speculate in oil; they will lead them miserable lives. Their conversation will be on nothing but oil. They will not be interested even in their wives.

Miss J was telling me about a sermon delivered by her pastor yesterday, in which he handled oil speculators without gloves. He called them gamblers and swindlers. I defended them as well as I could, but made a rather sorry effort. While talking with Miss J- I thought of the Rev. F-, a prominent minister and a very conscientious man, and wondered why he never speaks on this subject, when at least five members of his congregation are speculators and members of the Petroleum Exchange. I have often heard him declaiming fiercely against lesser evils.