Evening Republican, Volume 20, Number 89, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 April 1916 — Kin Hubbard Essays [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Kin Hubbard Essays

Luck, Superstitions, Omens, Etc.

By KIN HUBBARD.

Too many o’ us t’day attribute our failures an’ successes t’ luck. We re: gard good luck, next t’ a frock coat, as th’ most powerful agency in th’ realization of our fondest hopes. While it is true that some of us hustle an’ persevere an’ keep everlastin’ly at a thing, it is alius with a quiet inner consciousness that unless we win lucfc t’ our side our efforts, no matter how strenuous, will be in vain. So we have come t’ regard good luck as somethin’ without which we might as well be a minority stockholder. Accordin’ t’ th’ dictionary luck is that which chances t’ a person, whether fer good er evil; an event regarded as casual, an’ as affectin’ or tendin’ t’ affect a person’s interest or happiness, such as an ingrowin’ face, a well rounded figure, a fondness fer pool or a luxuriant growth o’ beard. O’ course ther are instances where people handicapped by ingrowin’ faces have been successes jest th’ same as ther’s isolated cases where a full flowin’ beard has met with disappointment. So while there is really little or no foundation fer th’ belief that luck guides our destinies, it is not difficult, however, t’ understand why th’ more amenable among us attach so much Importance t’ luck since so much that is considered necessary in roundin’ out a successful life is apparently missin’ in go many whose lives have been successful. Fer instance, how many times have we said, “I don’t see how that feller gits by,” or “How do you suppose she ever got married?” T’day th’ world is full o’ super-

stition. At th’ least calculation ther’s three times as many folks carryin’ buckeyes in ther pockets as ther wuz thousands o’ years before either Carthage or Tyre. Th’ other day I heard a feller wearin’ a rubber collar blame a black cat fer his humble position in life. I’ve heard spinsters with ther temples streaked with gray an’ reconciled t’ ther life o’ loneliness trace ther ill luck back thro’ th’ mist o’ years t’ an unguarded moment when, in th’ flush o’ young girlhood, they innocently accepted an opal ring. Some time ago I heard a young man wearin’ a red necktie an’ barely out o’ his teens remark, as he placed a thin pale hand with two yeller fingers t’ his brow, “I haven’t won a game o’ pool since I went t’ Vincennes on Friday.” ■

In th’ ole palmy days o’ th’ Loulslany Lottery superstition.wuz rampant an’ th’ one thing above all others that wuz regarded as th’ surest method o’ bringin’ good luck wuz t' rub a keg backed person on th’ keg an’ then hurry t’ th’ nearest pustoffice an’ send a dollar t’ New Orleans. Th’ superstition originated at Sidney, Ohio, an' spread so rapidly that lots o’ fellers haven’t got ther prizes yet. Ther’s many silly superstitions about walkin’ under a ladder, dryin o’ warts, upsettln’ th’ salt, seeln’ th’ moon over th’ left shoulder, breakin’ lookin’ glasses an’ settin’ down t’ dinner with thirteen, all pop’larly regarded as omens o’ some impendin’ calamity such as bustin’ a tire, sudden adversity, tall dark strangers enterin’ your life, early wedlock an’ th’ visit o* relatives.

Some Time Ago I Heard a Young Man Wearin’ a Red Necktie an’ Barely Out o’ His Teens Remark, as He Placed a Thin, Pale Hand With Two Yellow Fingers t’ his Brow,-“I Haven’t Won a Game o’ Pool Since I went to Vincennes on Friday.”