Monday as a "Fatal" Day

1895

A statistician in the employ of the German government has come to the rescue of those who do not share in the widespread superstition that Friday is the most "unlucky" day of the week. Three years ago this particular man of figures, and of great resources for accurate deductions, determined to make a scientific investigation of the Friday superstition. As a result of his exhaustive labors he has given the world a book of queer tables and figures, which proves that it is Monday, and not Friday, that is the most fatal or unfortunate day of the week.


A Recitation In Logic

"And now, Mr. Jones, will you please explain the theory of the sequence of ideas?"
"Sequence? Some call 'em 'straights.' That's where you have ace, king, que — er — that is, I sat up with a sick man last night, professor, and I'm shy on this — not prepared, I mean." — New York Recorder.


Philanthropy

A professional philanthropist once circulated a subscription list to enable a poor woman to pay her house rent. He owned the house. — New Orleans Picayune.

Ornaments Supposed to Ward Off Disease and Bring Luck

1911

Guard Against Evil

London. — Perhaps the instinct to avert the evil eye is born in our natures. Civilization had lessened it to a great extent, but in every race we find an instinct exists. The wearing of nearly all personal adornment seems to have originated in an idea of pacifying evil deities.

The savage wears ornaments symbolizing the protective powers supposed to be able to keep away harm or danger. In the West Indies there is a bean or seed which the natives think possesses many valuable properties. If carried in the purse they say the owner will never want for money; if hung on a watch chain good luck will ever be with the wearer. But woe betide the man who loses his precious charm. The East Indian leaves a tiny corner of his embroidery unfinished to propitiate the gods; the dusky mother calls her baby hard names for fear her love should bring ill fortune upon him

In England superstitious country folk tie amulets around their necks to prevent disease. Some of the earliest of those were skillfully wrought by the people who inhabited this country thousands of years ago and treated flint much the same as a cameo, producing varied effects by cutting through into the different layers of color. Several examples of this practically lost art may be seen in the museum at Ipswich. They are carved to represent the heads of men and women, birds, fishes and reptiles, and are for the most part cleverly and prettily done.

The fossil belemnites found on many of our coasts embedded in the rocks were once thought to be thunderbolts and were worn as charms by fisher folk. Farmers in ancient times decorated their horses by hanging amulets and gypsy fetish charms among their trappings to insure a good harvest. These amulets were frequently associated with the worship of the sun and were of Egyptian, Moorish and Persian origin.

Although most people profess to laugh at the idea of wearing them purely for luck or from superstitious motives, yet charms are worn still with good humored toleration and, for reasons none can explain, secretly favored, just in the same way that sober minded men and women cling tenaciously to a crooked sixpence and treasure a three-penny bit with a hole in it as omens of good luck.

A pink coral band in Italy is supposed to ward off the evil eye and plays its part in ornaments. Ruby ornaments are supposed to disperse evil spirits and are considered a protection from poison and other dire evils. Emeralds banish blindness. Garnet ornaments are supposed to keep one in good health; the sardonyx insures happiness. The sapphire keeps off fever. Amethysts keep off worries. A turquoise means that you will never want a friend. A four leaved clover in a crystal locket is a favorite charm and is said to bring good fortune and long life to its wearer. Jade also has a reputation for a luck bringer.

Bowlegged Fellows Are Not Likely to Face Poverty

1919

Bad Luck for Turn-In Toes

There is an old saying that a bandy legged boy will never lack warm stockings, meaning that he will never be in want of money, so that folk whose friends are apt to be rude about their manner of walking may find consolation therein, says a writer in London Answers.

On the other hand, persons who walk in a fashion which quickly wears down their heels are likely one day to be in need of cash, while knock-kneed folk, though they have the ability to get wealth, have not the power to attract love — so it is said.

A long stride and a swinging walk are good — they imply that there may be ups and downs, but good fortune will never get far away, and will come out on top eventually.

Bad luck follows in the train of those who habitually turn in their toes, however, and an ancient adage has it that the man who always walks on the tips of his toes is likely to end his days in prison.

So watch your step!

2 Plus 2 Plus 3 Plus 6 is 13

1915

They Give Barney Oldfield Badge 2,236, and He Broke Rod

The number thirteen is not popular with drivers of racing cars, and it was noticed that no car at the Astor cup race bore that number. And thirteen did not appear on the official score board.

Barney Oldfield had badge number 2,236 given to him quite by chance. An hour or so before the race W. Bob Holland of the speedway publicity department was talking to Oldfield, and he noticed the badge number.

"You have a hoodoo number, Barney," he laughingly remarked.

"What's the matter with it?" asked

"Add the figures together," said Holland.

Barney turned the badge up. "Two and two are four and three is seven and six is thirteen," he said slowly. He eyed the badge suspiciously for a moment, shrugged his shoulders, and remarked: "Oh, I'm not superstitious; I guess the badge is all right."

An hour or so later Oldfield completed six laps, twelve miles, in the race for $50,000 in prizes. While negotiating the thirteenth mile the connecting rod of his car broke, and he was out of the race.

—Saturday Blade, Chicago, Dec. 18, 1915, p. 8.

Luck In the Clover

1903

Any one who carries about a four leaved clover will be lucky and will have the power of discovering ghosts or evil spirits. With it under the pillow the lover may insure dreams of the beloved one. A fragment in the shoe of a traveler insures a safe journey. Of the five leaved clover it is declared that if it be worn on the left side of a maiden's dress or fastened behind the hall door the Christian name of the first man who enters will be the same as that of the future husband.

The power of the four leaved shamrock for good is familiar to all, from Lover's once popular and pretty song, the speaker in which pictures what she would do should she find the magic plant:

"I would play the enchanter's part and scatter bliss around,
And not a tear or aching heart should in the world be found."


Centenarian Chances

Taking a million as a basis of calculation, statistics show that at the end of seventy years there will still survive 212,000 out of 1,000,000 persons. At the expiration of eighty years there will be 107,000 survivors of the original million. When it comes to ninety years of existence only 8,841 out of the 1,000,000, or one in 115, will be living. Of the original 1,000,000 only fifty-four will live to see ninety-nine years, or about one person out of 18,500. The century mark will be reached by only twenty-three out of the 1,000,000.

Dice Turn Up "Seven" Five Times for Judge

1920

Negro Caught With "Loaded Bones" is Fined $200

KANSAS CITY, Mo., March 18. — The magic number seven failed to bring luck to Al Fields, negro dealer in supplies for crap shooters, in South Municipal Court, when Judge Edward J. Fleming took a turn at the dice. Fields, who was arrested on the street by "Tug" Carter, "ace" of the negro policemen, had in his possession a complete outfit for loading dice as well as a jar containing forty dice which Patrolman Carter declared were loaded.

"Them dice ain't loaded, judge," protested Fields.

"We'll see," said Judge Fleming.

The judge rattled the "bones" three times. Every time they turned up "seven."

"That's just luck, judge," insisted Fields.

Judge Fleming shook twice again. Each time "seven" faced him.

"Two hundred dollars," said the judge.

Fields was sent to the municipal farm to work out his fine.

Asleep on Card Table, Man Has Coughing Fit, Dies

Iowa, 1901

DIES ON A CARD TABLE

WILLIAM HANNAH'S DEMISE IN DELMONICO CLUB ROOMS

So Sudden Was His Passing That Those In the Room With Him Knew Nothing of It Until the Man Was In His Death Struggles — Leaves the Text of a Sermon Written In His Note Book

Several men were gathered in the club room over the Delmonico early yesterday morning. One was lying asleep on the table. Several others had just been out for a lunch, and on returning to the room one of them had brought in with him a very large Newfoundland dog, the big shaggy animal making himself at home near the stove. Suddenly a loud coughing or choking was heard, and Osborn Reynolds cried "Put that dog out. This room is too warm for him."

"It's not the dog; it's 'Ditch,' answered one of the men.

"Wake him up, boys," and two or three of them hurried over to the table to do so.

"My God! He's dead," they cried and the limp form was allowed to fall back. The face was of chalky whiteness, and it was not necessary to call a physician to learn that life had fled, though, of course, a physician was speedily, but uselessly called.

Thus, lying on a card table in a saloon club room, William Hannah died. Not the slightest warning had he; probably not a moment of conscious suffering. His heart had filled up with blood and then refused to work. It was all so sudden that the men about the corpse could hardly realize what had happened.

There was considerable difficulty yesterday in identifying the dead man. He was known to several people but only as "Ditch," this peculiar nickname coming from the fact that he worked at laying tile when he worked at all. The remains were taken to the Boies' undertaking parlors and during the forenoon Coroner Fred Lambach conducted an autopsy. In the afternoon the coroner's inquest was held and a verdict was rendered that William Hannah came to his death by cardiac paralysis. The coroner's jury consisted of M. J. Scandrett, William Schwarnweber, and O. K. Wilson.

A Dead Man's Sermon

"There's no fool like an old fool," wrote Hannah in his note book not long ago, and the quotation is the text of a sermon that the dead man is preaching to his fellow creatures. The rest of his sermon is found in the story of his life. It developed at the inquest that not many months ago William Hannah had come into the possession of some money, inherited from an eastern relative. He came to Davenport and spent most of his time about a card table. At first he was successful. He did not play heavily, but he won, and he grew to love the game. Men who knew him say it was a study to watch the face of "Ditch" when he was handling the pasteboards. It often made them forget their own game. But there came a time when "Ditch" didn't win. Every bit of his money was gone. He had been known to the police for the past two weeks as "broke," and when Dr. Lambach examined his stomach at the autopsy yesterday morning it was learned that no food had been eaten in the last 24 hours. It was probably during this period that the text was written in the note book.

System Much Deranged

Though to outward appearance Hannah was a healthy man, the autopsy showed that his system was very much disordered. His stomach was what is known as a "whisky stomach," though there was no testimony to show that he was a hard drinker. His kidneys were in bad shape. His right lung had grown to his side as the result of an attack of pluerisy. His liver gave evidence of a disease from which few men recover, and all tended to weaken his heart.

At the inquest testimony was taken from Captain Fred Hitchcock, Michael Rourke, P. Phelan. Ed Neils, W. H. Costello, John Cahil, Dr. Porter, who was called at the time of Hannah's death, and Os Reynolds, the proprietor of the place where the man died. From the testimony it was learned that Hannah had been in Gallagher's place in the early evening, that he had gone to the Delmonico about 12 o'clock, and had fallen asleep upon the card table, a habit that he had been more or less regular in of late. No one took any particular notice of him until the fatal coughing fit attracted them.

Hannah had previously lived at Williamsburg, Ia., where it is understood he has a sister. He carried photographs of two men, one young and the other old. He had told some of his acquaintances that they were his brother and father, and lived in California. The dead man was about 35 years of age.

—Davenport Daily Republican, Davenport, Iowa, Feb. 17, 1901, p. 7.

Friday the 13th and 12-12-12

1912

TODAY WAS LAST OF THE HOODOO DATES

Friday the Thirteenth Will Not Come Again Until June 1913 a Genuine Jonah Day.

. .B-e-w-a-r-e! This is Friday the 13th! But, thank goodness, it is the last "hoodoo" day we will have this year. Next year only one Friday falls on the unlucky number. It is June 13, 1912.

Yesterday was Dec. 12, — or, written in business form, 12-12-12. No triple set of numerals will be seen again until Jan. 1, 2001, which may be written 1-1-1.

Christmas shoppers took warning and kept their clutches tightened on handbags and pocketbooks.

The superstitious dread of the number 13 seems to have spread over the earth. It is said Italians never use it in making up the numbers for their lotteries; that the thirteenth card in one of their games bears the figure of Death, and that no house in Paris is No. 13. The Quatorziemes are persons known in Parisian society who hold themselves in readiness to go to any dinner which otherwise would have the fatal 13 at the table.

—Janesville Daily Gazette, Janesville, Wisconsin, Dec. 13, 1912, p. 14.


Today Friday, Thirteenth and Yesterday, 12-12-12

Today is Friday the thirteenth, the last unlucky day of its kind until the second week of June, which the superstitious believe will be especially unlucky on account of the year being 1913. Yesterday the date could be Written "12-12-12," and it will be 88 years before the similarity is duplicated. January 1, 2001, can be written "1-1-1."

—Colorado Springs Gazette, Colorado Springs, CO, Dec. 13, 1912.


THURSDAY WILL BE 12-12-12

Making the Last of Such Combinations for 88 Years.

Thursday, when the "tired business man" and the busy stenographer dash off a letter headed by 12-12-12 on the date line, few will recognize the fact that it is a calendar peculiarity, the last of a series of twelve such which will not recur again for 88 years, or until the dawning of a new century.

The superstitious may draw satisfaction from the fact that the following Friday is the last that will occur in his lifetime falling upon the thirteenth and having the sum of the numerals of the year likewise make the fateful thirteen.

—The Mansfield News, Mansfield, Ohio, Dec. 10, 1912, p. 8.

A Date with Number 9 — The Rest of Their Lives

1890

The New York Tribune draws attention to the fact that for 110 years to come, no man, woman or child will write the current date without using the figure 9; for nineteen years during that period two 9's must be written — in 1899, 1909, 1919, 1929, 1939, 1949, 1959, 1969, 1979, 1989, 1990, 1991, 1992, 1993, 1994, 1995, 1995, 1997, 1998; and for one year — 1999 — three 9's will have to be set down. Of the people now living, it is safe to say that not one will ever write the date of his or her time without using a 9. Besides minding their p's and q's, the next three generations much give particular heed to their 9's. Nine has never been regarded as a particularly lucky number, but beyond question the years in which it will hold so conspicuous a place will bring benefits of undreamed of value to the world.

—New Oxford Item, New Oxford, PA, Feb. 28, 1890, p. 6.

Hoodoo Too Much For Columbus Girl

1910

Shoots Herself After Dining at Table With Thirteen

Columbus, Ohio, Nov. 25 — Miss Mary Hollenback, 18, if she recovers from a bullet wound in her left breast, will probably have more respect for the hoodoo number 13. The Hollenback family held a housewarming at their home on the North Side. Members of the immediate family were present and when the time for dinner came it was found there were 13 present. Mary was the last to seat herself at the table. "I don't care if there are 13 here," said Mary. "I can't believe in luck anyway."

Shortly after the conclusion of the meal Miss Hollenback, while examining a revolver belonging to her brother, accidentally pulled the trigger, the bullet hit a corset stay, was deflected and entered her left breast, inflicting a serious but not necessarily fatal wound.

—The Mansfield News, Mansfield, Ohio, Nov. 25, 1910, p. 2.