The story
“This jolly little Princess comedy is aimed at the ancient superstition of unlucky days and unlucky numbers—which, strange to say, still has considerable hold on the average mind. It is up to date—showing that if we must have superstitions, why not good superstitions? A year ago this time, Woodrow Wilson was telling us that he looked forward to 1913 as the luckiest year of his life. And the President’s daughter has also turned the unlucky number into a lucky one—for she will be the thirteenth bride of the White House. Mr. Hooley, of the Princess play, starts out, fully convinced that Friday the thirteenth is going to bring him all sorts of misfortunes. Instead, the date opens propitiously with a delicious breakfast—Mrs. Hooley, daintily attired in a new negligee, sitting opposite. She sees him off to the office with a kiss—so that he goes to business whistling and cheerful. A few yards down the street he stumbles upon a purse with a roll of bills in it—and no prospect of being able to identify the owner. At the office, a telegram awaits him: ‘Have just struck a rich vein assaying three thousand to the ton. Your stock is worth three times as much. Lost Rocks Mining Co.’ Then, to crown all, the evening mail brings a letter announcing that his mother-in-law is obliged to postpone indefinitely her proposed visit. Hooley is converted to the Wilson view of superstition—no hoodoo about thirteen—it’s just the luckiest number ever.”
Summary from Reel Life · 8 November 1913
