“Young Jimsie
Judson’s Horseshoe Episode by Old Hurrygraph,” from the Watauga Democrat, March 29,
1917. (According to Editor and Publisher, Jan. 19, 1918, James A. Robinson, also known as “Old Hurrygraph,” had
been named editor of the Durham Sun and
assumed editorial charge with a single word—“Howdy.”)
Jimsie Judson grew,
as all boys have a way of doing. He reached the supreme height of his ambition
to be a “printer’s devil,” and he was one. He soon became familiar with the ink
and the rollers in the office of the Piedmont Virginian at Orange, Va. You
could see from his hands and his face when he emerged from the office that he
was in love with the “art preservative” and knew how to apply the ink but not
altogether in the right place. A printer’s “devil” is the youngest apprentice
in a printing office and is the editor-in-chief of the ink-rollers and the
errand bureau.
Jimsie, having been
initiated into the art of making papers, in those days on a hand press and by
muscular power, he began to sharpen his wits and pick up things. The future
dawned upon his young mind as a great aurora borealis, with a Washington hand
press in the center, and there was a young mind scanning the horizon and
absorbing thoughts and events.
In Jimsie’s search
for knowledge he somewhere read that as far back as in the year 1813, in
Monmouth Street, London, there were no less than 13 horseshoes nailed over the
doors. He wondered and investigated until he found that it was an old
superstition, carrying with it protection against witches. Like all other
people on the subject, he had learned from the “old folks” that it was lucky to
pick up a horseshoe in the “big road” and nail it over the door. Lord Nelson
had one nailed to the mast of the ship Victory. The legend of the horse shoe is
interesting. Jimsie seized it as a wonderful discovery. It is to the effect
that the devil one day asked St. Dunstan—St. Dunstan was the patron saint of
goldsmiths, being a noted worker in gold—who was also noted for his skill in
shoeing horses, to shoe his “single hoof.” Dunstan knowing his customer, tied
him tightly to the wall; proceeded with the job, but purposely put the devil to
so much pain that he roared for mercy. Dunstan at last consented to release his
captive on condition that he never enter a place where he saw a horseshoe
displayed.
Jimsie, on a
holiday fishing tramp, found in the public highway the treasure the legend had
caused his young mind to covet. They might call him a printer’s “devil,” but
the Virginian office would now bear the insignia that was a warning to his
Satanic majesty. So Jimsie mounted his horseshoe over the entrance and breathed
of wonders accomplished.
But alas, for theories and luck, and of
horseshoes over the door! At an untimely moment, as Jimsie was going out one day,
that particular horse shoe left its fastening and dropped. It struck Jimsie a
slanting lick on the head, not only with surprise, but with great force, and
raised a knot as large as a guinea egg. That broke the charm with Jimsie’s
belief in the luck of the horseshoe, and whenever he sees one, his hand
involuntarily goes up and scratches the side of his cranium. His philosophy
from that hour to this is—if you do not put your horseshoe on your horse’s
hoof, put it outside the door on the floor. There was no peach tree blossoms in
the ending of his youthful vision.
Jimsie is a big boy
now. He has owned a daily paper of his own, which he ran successfully for 24
years in the chosen town of North Carolina, after following the fortunes of the
printing office from the time he was a “printer’s devil” in 1869. The scenes of
his childhood, the blossoming peach tree, the old lumber house, all of which
have passed away, are the dearest pictures that hang on memory’s hall, and
parental lessons then taught have been guideposts along the journey of life.
Boys, fatherly correctiveness may seem hard to your young, untutored minds, but
many a good boy has been spoilt by sparing the rod. You will see through it all
if you live long enough, and then the memory will cast a beautiful glow and
halo over its correctness.
