befall one who
steps on the cracks of a flagged sidewalk; and so on through a score of
funny conceits and games, innocent enough as child's play, but hardly
worthy of sensible girls in their teens.

"You know, the practice of refraining from beginning a journey or
undertaking on Friday," continued Miss Irene, "arose from a religious
observance of the day upon which Our Lord was crucified. As the early
Christians were accustomed to devote this day to meditation and prayer,
it followed that few went abroad at that time, or set about new
temporal ventures. Superstition early perverted the import of this
pious custom. As on that day Satan marshalled all the powers of evil
against the Son of God, so, said the soothsayers, he would beset with
misfortune and danger the path of those who set forth on a Friday. As
regards the case in point, since we do not go into retreat once a week,
I presume Anna and Rosemary have not this reason for refusing to visit
their young friend on Friday."

There was a general laugh, after which Miss Irene went on:

"For the rest, we know God's loving providence carefully watches over
us at all times, and constantly preserves us from countless dangers;
that nothing can betide us without His permission, and that He blesses
the work of every day if we ask Him. Far from being influenced by the
common superstition with regard to Friday, it would seem as if we
should piously prefer to begin an undertaking (and in this spirit seek
a special blessing on the work thus commenced) on the day of the week
which commemorates that most fortunate of all days for us, on which was
consummated the great act of Redemption.

"The superstition with reference to thirteen at table dates from the
Last Supper, of which Our Lord partook with His twelve Apostles on the
eve of His crucifixion. Hence the saying that of thirteen persons who
sit down together to a repast, one will soon die. I think it was
originally the custom to avoid having thirteen at the festive or family
board, not so much from this notion, as to express a horror of the
treachery of Judas. Such would be, for instance, the chivalrous spirit
of the Crusaders. We can understand how, in feudal times, a knight
would consider it an affront to his fellows to bid them to a banquet
spread for thirteen. In those days, when a feast was so apt to end in
a fray,--when by perfidy the enemy so often entered at the castle gate
while the company were at table, a