March 2, 1944 was a Thursday. One of the few superstitions I have ever had was that there was always something over the next hill.
Hermes is the son of Zeus and Maia (daughter of Atlas). He was raised by the Nymph Cyllene in Arcadia. He grew quickly and as soon as he could, sneaked away looking for adventure.
Coming to Pieria where Apollo was tending his herd of cows. Hermes waited until night before stealing the herd (as well as Apollo's bow and quiver), and then hid them in a cave. On the way back he discovered a tortoise and using its shell, stretched ox-hide and reeds, made the first lyre. Then he returned to his nurse Cyllene, who was unaware that he was missing.
Apollo discovered the loss the next morning and by means of divination determined that it was Hermes who'd done the deed. Going to Cyllene he accused Hermes of the crime, to which Hermes denied and Cyllene did not believe possible. In frustration Apollo seized the infant and carried him to Olympus to ask Zeus for a judgement.
Zeus was amused by the prank but had to give Apollo, another of his sons, justice. Hermes at last confessed to the deed and lead Apollo to the cave where all but two of the herd were hidden. Hermes however showed Apollo the lyre and played it for him. Apollo, impressed by the instrument, traded the herd and a golden staff for it. From then on, Apollo became a god of music and Hermes a god of flocks and herds, and they became friends. The other two cows had been slaughtered and served up into twelve portions, one for each of the gods of Olympus and one for Hermes, who was then accepted as an Olympian.
Mondays child is fair of face,
Tuesdays child is full of grace,
Wednesdays child is full of woe,
Thursdays child has far to go,
Fridays child is loving and giving,
Saturdays chld works hard for his living,
And the child that is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.
And one of my favorite songs has always been: Wandrin' Star