Of late years, too, the horseshoe has grown to be a favorite symbol in the house,--a sort of household fetich, as it were,--if not because of any faith in its traditional ability to bring good luck, one is at loss to know why a piece of old iron should be so conspicuously hung up in the houses of rich and poor alike. The horseshoe was always, also, the favorite emblem of the tavern and inn, in all countries. Such signs as the “Three Horseshoes,” once swung in Boston streets. In Samuel Sewall’s Diary we find the following entry: “Sanctifie to me ye deth of old Mrs. Glover who kept the 3 horseshoes, and who dyed ye last night.” Sewall, who lived in the immediate neighborhood, leaves us in the dark as to whether he mourned most for Mrs. Glover or her exhilarating mixtures. Returning to its proper place in folk-lore, I myself have seen the horseshoe nailed to the bowsprit of a vessel, over house and barn doors, and even to bedsteads. In the country, its supposed virtues continue to hold much of their old sway, while among sailors a belief in them has suffered little, if any, loss since the day of Nelson and of the _Victory_. On some very old country house, as old as the witchcraft times, one can still see the shape of a horseshoe wrought in the brickwork of the chimneys, as well as one nailed above the door, thus cleverly closing every avenue against the entrance of witches. But of all the odd caprices connected with the use of the horseshoe, that related of Samuel Dexter, of Boston, must carry off the palm for oddity. He, being dissatisfied with his minister, Dr. Codman, nailed a horseshoe to his pew door, and then nailed up the pew itself. The origin of this remarkable superstition is involved in the obscurity of past ages. It is usually attributed to the virtue of cold iron to keep witches out, through their inability to step over it, and is probably allied to that other superstition about the driving of iron nails into the walls of Roman houses, with a like object. Beyond that point its meaning grows more and more obscure. The conjunction, so essential to perfect the charm, between iron in any form and the horse, is said to have come from the magical properties attributed to the animal by the ancients, in whose mythology the horse always plays an important part. King Richard, on Bosworth field, offers his kingdom for a horse, and Poor Richard, in his Almanac, tells us how a man lost his life for want of a nail in his horse’s shoe. Butler, from whose pen figures of speech gush forth like water from a never-failing spring, declares that evil spirits are chased away by dint “of sickle, horseshoe, hollow flint.” In Gay’s fable of “The Old Woman and her Cats,” the alleged witch laments that “Straws laid across my path retard; The horseshoes nail’d each threshold’s guard.”