Throwing an old shoe is perhaps most intimately associated, in the popular mind, with marriage ceremonies; but it is also found doing duty in other matters concerning personal advantage or welfare,--as when, for instance, a person was going out to transact business, it was considered lucky to throw an old shoe after him. The same thing was done when servants were seeking or entering upon situations. So far, the meaning of the act is simple enough, the controlling idea being to propitiate success. But if we should divest an old shoe of its assumed mystical property, in the name of that superior wisdom which our cultured class is supposed to possess, why would it not be as well, or even better, to throw a new pair after the candidate for good fortune? But no, it must be an _old_ shoe. And therein lies the whole philosophy of the matter. Unless we shall conform to the strict letter of this antiquated custom, there will be no luck about the house.[12] In Ben Jonson’s “Masque of Gypsies,” we find this joyous couplet:-- “Hurle after an old shoe, I’ll be merry whate’er I do.” Much to the same purport is Tennyson’s:-- “And wheresoe’er thou move, good luck Shall throw her old shoe after.” Apropos of beliefs affecting tradespeople of to-day, a newspaper clipping notes the following curious custom prevailing among the street pedlers and small storekeepers of New York, that has its origin with the Russian Jews. In Baxter Street the clothing men and in Division Street the milliners insist that a sale must be made before nine o’clock on Monday morning. No matter what the price and regardless of profit or loss, some piece of goods must be turned into coin by that hour; otherwise the week will prove an unlucky one. On the other hand, there is a firm belief in some parts of New England that if you pay a bill on Monday, you will pay out money all the rest of the week. Hence, a very natural prejudice has arisen against paying a bill on that day. Shipmasters are admittedly very superstitious folk. I once knew of a ship being named for a certain well-known cotton mill, because the said mill had always proved a lucky investment to its owners. Another instance came to my knowledge where a master, himself part owner, consulted a clairvoyant about naming his new ship. When the applicant timidly suggested the name of _Pocahontas_, it was promptly rejected with the remark: “She was nothing but an old Indian woman. What do you want to name your vessel after her for? Call her the _Eagle Wing_.” And _Eagle Wing_ it was.