In London it is possible to speculate in dried flies. And on at least one occasion there was a disastrous attempt to corner the market in ant eggs. To such a pretty trading pasture at some indeterminate date went greasy Garabed Bishirgian, fresh from the sere uplands of his native Armenia. He took a flier in Turkish carpets. He traded in caviar. He gambled in tin. By the time he set himself up as a stockbroker, his friends declared that his only god was a "rising share." In 1929 he swore allegiance to...
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