The Margin Call

YESTERDAY along Broad Street there was observed an animation of the most extraordinary character, as brokers, clerks, and at least one bootblack abandoned their posts upon the news that a new token, styled $MARGIN, had been listed upon the Arc exchange.

The instrument, settled entirely in dollars upon a chain kept—it is said—by institutions of the very highest respectability, promises its holders nothing whatever. This, observers agree, is precisely its charm.

“It has no dividend, no board of directors, no allotment for its promoters, and no tax,” declared a man in a derby hat, who declined to give his name but not his opinion. “It is the purest speculation since the tulip.”

By the noon bell the throng before the telegraph office had swollen to such proportions that mounted police were summoned. Several gentlemen were seen telephoning their brokers to demand leverage; the brokers, in turn, were seen telephoning theirs.

Your correspondent, seeking a sober assessment, consulted an economist of the old school, who removed his spectacles, regarded the ticker for some minutes, and said only: “Do not look at the chart.” He then purchased a modest position.