But the great event of the afternoon is the reception of opening prices from the New York Stock Exchange. In comparison with these, the Paris quotations that arrive about noon are uninteresting, and the American Market grows into a surging crowd between three o'clock and a quarter-past. It is often remarked upon as singular that no official prices are sent over from Wall Street; the arbitrage firms who deal between London and New York alone know the prices cabled across, but by their offering or bidding for shares it is obvious whether Wall Street opens in good humour or bad. By rapid degrees the American fluctuations become generally circulated; the market seems to be full of the little pink slips that come flying in at the hands of boys and clerks stationed in a line that stretches from the offices of the cable companies outside the House to the very heart of the Yankee Market in the Stock Exchange. Again the telephone and telegraph come into requisition, and the House usually finishes up, unless there is really nothing doing, in a state of more or less mild excitement. For one thing the markets are decidedly crowded, everyone making a solemn point of being in at the close, and for another, the brokers are engaged in a tour of the various departments to make finally certain that they have overlooked no order on their books which could be done, and to hear reports from the jobbers in regard to limits that have been left during the earlier part of the day. At four o'clock, at a signal from the main door of the Kaffir Circus, a number of the waiters stand up with a loud shout of "Close!" and the Stock Exchange doors are then open for exit only. Under no consideration can a member or clerk re-enter when once the stentorian "Close" has rung through the markets, and the cry is caught up by the small fry in the street, who are waiting with their masters' hats and umbrellas; so that the whole neighbourhood of Throgmorton Street knows when four o'clock has come.
A cup of refreshment, and the broker hurries again to his office. A clerk is left in the Street to report any vagrant movements which may occur in the after-hours markets of mining shares or American Rails, but the head goes back to attend to the correspondence. Herein lies one great advantage possessed by the jobber over the broker; the former has perhaps one letter to write, or possibly two; not often more, unless he does a large shunting business with the country--taking advantage of fractional differences of quotation which prevail in the provinces as compared with London. But the broker finds himself confronted with a shoal of letters, letters on every subject conceivably connected with finance, besides a good many that are not. Some of the answers have, of course, been dictated and written earlier in the day, but a good proportion cannot be dealt with until the markets are over, and the movements of the past six hours probably call for written comment to clients who are interested in the various sections. Moreover, the movements outside in the Street markets are possibly tending towards the execution of fresh orders, so that altogether the post can with difficulty be despatched on the sunny side of five o'clock even in quiet times, and when business is active the hour may be considerably later. The chief clerks are quite competent to deal with the finalities of the correspondence, so that the heads of the firm need rarely stay to the bitter end. Last of all come the batches of printed price lists, which a good many brokers are in the habit of circulating amongst their clients. Some firms not only issue, but print their own lists; at least one complete set of printing machinery can be seen at work in the basement of a broker's office.