《股票作手回忆录·第三章·初到纽约·对赌行的赢法为何失灵》第5节
I watched the board and saw something that looked good to me. It was behaving right. I bought a hundred at 84. I got out at 85 in less than a half hour. Then I saw something else I liked, and I did the same thing; took three-quarters of a point net within a very short time. I began well, didn’t I? Now mark this: On that, my first day as a customer of a reputable Stock Exchange house, and only two hours of it at that, I traded in eleven hundred shares of stock, jumping in and out. And the net result of the day’s operations was that I lost exactly eleven hundred dollars. That is to say, on my first attempt, nearly one-half of my stake went up the flue. And remember, some of the trades showed me a profit. But I quit eleven hundred dollars minus for the day. It didn’t worry me, because I couldn’t see where there was anything wrong with me. My moves, also, were right enough, and if I had been trading in the old Cosmopolitan shop I’d have broken better than even. That the machine wasn’t as it ought to be, my eleven hundred vanished dollars plainly told me. But as long as the machinist was all right there was no need to stew. Ignorance at twenty-two isn’t a structural defect.
注释摘要
这段文字活画出了一个自信的年轻人，揣着他在对赌行里练就的那套功夫，一头扎进了正规交易所，结果碰了个灰头土脸。故事的主角拉里·利文斯顿，也就是杰西·利弗莫尔的文学化身，在1900年代初来到纽约。他第一天踏进那家信誉卓著的经纪行，看见报价板、听见行情纸带滴答作响、闻到那股熟悉的投机气味，就觉得自己回到了主场。这种错觉，我们每个人在换到一个看似相同、实则规则迥异…