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Acquaintances along Wall Street remember that one morning Wyckoff failed to appear at the office at No. 42 Broadway. He never returned. For a while there were rumors that he had died, that he was paralyzed, that he was very sick. But he was reached by telephone at the Great Neck mansion. Then before long even the telephone failed to reach him. Eventually he turned up forlorn in California, and started a new business for himself: the Richard D. Wyckoff Analytical Staff, which still tells people how to invest their money.
The way was clear for Mrs. Wyckoff to become a prima donna, not at the Metropolitan Opera House, but on Wall Street.*
Plot. In his bill filed last week, Wyckoff charged that Mrs. Wyckoff thus cajoled and nagged him out of everything he owned, wheedled him with the promise to keep it a joint account. Through her attorneys Mrs. Wyckoff replied that he was just envious and his story was fantastic. She said he owed her some money even now.
Not quite so pretty now, Publisher Wyckoff devotes herself to the editing and managing of her Magazine of Wall Street with aggressive vigor. She supervises everything from advertisements to editorials and keeps sharp discipline at conferences with her writing staff.
Occasionally she publishes doggerel verse. She likes cartoons and illustrations such as a "Building your future income," layout with collar-ad, studies of the young executive today, the business leader tomorrow, against a sentimental background of home, babies, fireside. The Magazine of Wall Street (circulation 68,228 in 1927) has attained-some success in a field where competition is weak.
* There were prima donnas on Wall Street in the '705, when Tennie C. Claflin and Victoria Woodhull, sisters, were brokers at No. 44 Broad. A cartoon captioned "Female Brokers Seciiring a Customer," published in Bulls and Bears oj New York in 1874, showed them with Commodore Vanderbilt. While Tennie chucked the Commodore's chin, Victoria held him some stocks to pocket.