by Nell Speed
CHAPTER X.
VIRGINIA VERSUS CAROLINA.
What a day that Thanksgiving was! Could anything be more fun than to besixteen ('most seventeen); to have devoted friends; good health; to beallowed to sleep until mid-day; to get up to a good breakfast luncheon;and by one o'clock to be on the streets of Richmond en route for thegreat event of the year: the football match between Virginia andCarolina?
We were in such a gale that Zebedee threatened to lock us up for theday.
"I am afraid you will disgrace me before night," he declared.
The best thing of all that happened was a sharp ringing of the bellwhile we were having the luncheon Zebedee had brought from the cafe andserved in the apartment, and who should come in but Father? Zebedee hadlong-distanced him to Bracken and in spite of the sickly condition ofthe neighbourhood and Sally Winn's having him up in the night, he hadcaught the train to Richmond and was like a boy off on a holiday.
Instead of the snug little Henry Ford that we had expected to go to thegame in, Zebedee had rented for the day a great seven-seated car thatheld us all quite comfortably. It was a rusty old thing but wasdecorated from end to end with blue and yellow, the University ofVirginia colours. Our host had ready for us a dozen huge yellowchrysanthemums, two for each girl and one for each man. We looked like afloat in a parade and as we chugged out Monument Avenue, every oneturned to look at the gay car. Everybody had a horn and everybody blewlike Gabriel on the last day.
Of course Zebedee had found out the very best place on the grounds topark the car and of course he got that place. He was a man of greatresources and always seemed to know exactly where to apply for what hewanted. For instance, his getting permission for us to leave Greshamfor Thanksgiving holidays was simply unprecedented. As he said, he hadpulled every wire in sight, and where there wasn't a wire, he found aleg. Anyhow, there we were.
"How on earth did you get such a grand place for the car?" asked Dee. Apoliceman seemed to be saving it for us, as the parking privileges werenot very extensive at the ball grounds.
"Oh, newspaper men get there somehow. We have what one might call'press-tige'."
We were wedged in between two cars, one decorated with the Virginiacolours and one with the Carolina, white and light blue. Both werefilled to overflowing with enthusiastic rooters for their respectivestates.
The crowd was immense. I never saw so many people together. All of themseemed gay and happy, and good nature was the order of the day. Therewas much pushing and crowding, but no one seemed to mind in the least.The grandstand was creaking and groaning with people, and every inch ofspace within six feet of the fence that enclosed the gridiron waspacked and jammed with one solid mass of enthusiasm.
Zebedee seemed to know about half of the people who passed us. He hadhis hat off more than he had it on and usually called out some greetingto his acquaintances, who one and all addressed him as: "Jeff."
Father saw many old cronies, schoolmates of by-gone years, members ofhis fraternity and learned doctors and surgeons, who, I noticed, greetedhim with great respect and affection. Our car was the center ofattraction seemingly. Young men and old stopped to speak to Father andZebedee, were introduced to us and stayed to chat. Our old car gaveseveral ominous squeaks as the visitors climbed on the steps or perchedon the sides. It took it out in squeaking and did not go to pieces as Ifor a moment feared it would, but settled down into submission.
"If there isn't old Judge Grayson!" shouted Dee. "I wish he would lookthis way." There he was, our friend of Willoughby Beach. His old pinkface was beaming with enthusiasm as he wedged his way through the crowd.
"Grayson! Grayson! Rah, rah, rah!" and then Zebedee blew such a blastfrom his beribboned horn that the crowd trembled and turned as one man,and Judge Grayson, of course, turning with them, saw us. He waved hislarge soft felt hat and in a moment was up in the car greeting us withhis old-fashioned courtesy.
"'Ah! happy years! Once more, who would not be a boy?'" Of course thedear old man had to greet us with a quotation. "Gad, Tucker, it is goodto see you and your young ladies once more! Are you sure I won't crowdyou, getting up in your car this way?"
"Crowd us, indeed! We've got room for a dozen friends if they were aswelcome as you, eh, girls?" We agreed, but the rented car gave anothergroan.
Then the teams came trotting in, twenty-two stalwart giants.
"I can't tell one from the other," I said.
"There's George Massie, there, standing by himself to the left! Sleepy!Sleepy! Massie! Massie!" yelled Zebedee like a Comanche Indian. We alltook it up until the object of our excitement heard his name above theroar of the crowd and looked our way. We were not so very far from himand he saw us and he said afterwards that the sun shone on Annie's hairso that he just knew who we were.
"Hello, peoples!" Who but Wink White and Harvie Price should comeclambering in our car from the back? Some good-natured passerby hadgiven them a leg-up over the lowered top. The car gave another moan ofagony. She was built to seat seven not to stand twenty, but stand atleast twenty she had to.
I was still dignified with Wink and Harvie for the position they had putus in at Gresham, but they were so contrite and so jolly that I had tocave in and be pleasant. It was too bright a day to have a grouch withany one, and besides, they had not really got us into trouble after all.Zebedee thought as I did, that they were certainly selfish andthoughtless to place us where sure expulsion would have been theoutcome had the authorities discovered that boys had come to the dance,and we had been in a measure party to the crime.
Harvie and Wink had not heard of how the escapade had turned out, as wehad had no opportunity of informing them. We had been very careful inspeaking of the matter at all and had only divulged our part in theaffair to a chosen few who had sworn never to tell a soul. It was toogood a story to keep indefinitely, however, and now Dum and Dee togethertold the whole thing while the teams were trotting around, makingsenseless looking passes (senseless to the uninitiated, at least). Theautomobile rocked with laughter at their description of Wink's tanshoes, No. 8, that were much in evidence under the drapery, and Harvie'sfalsetto giggle that at one time turned into a baritone guffaw.
"What's the joke? What's the joke?" A strident voice broke into ourgaiety. It could belong to only one person of my acquaintance. Sureenough, there stood Mabel Binks with all the glory of a grown-upsociety beau in her wake and all the manner a month of debutanting couldgive her. "Let me introduce Mr. Parker, girls. You just adore girls,don't you, Mr. Parker?"
Mr. Parker, who was in a measure the Beau Brummel of Richmond, assuredus he did and immediately took stock of our charms, at least that washis air, as Mabel, with many flourishes, presented us. She was quiteimpressive in her manner of introducing Tweedles and Annie Pore, and Iheard her whisper behind her hand that Annie was a "descendant ofnobilities." She almost ignored me altogether, but finally brought me inas "little Miss Allison from the country," and pretended to haveentirely forgotten Mary's name.
Mr. Parker was a type I had never met before. He was good looking andclever in a way, always knowing the latest joke and the last bit ofgossip and retailing his knowledge to his greatest advantage, that is,never getting it off to one person but saving himself for an audienceworthy of his wit. He was older than Zebedee, in his forties I shouldsay, but his countenance was as rosy as a boy's. Dee declared she knewfor a fact that he had his face massaged every day. His attire was ascarefully thought out as any belle's: socks and tie to match, shoes andgloves also to match, and scarf pin and jewelled wrist watch in harmonywith his general get-up.
He was a man, I was told, not of the F.F.V.'s, but from his earliestyouth Society with a big S had been his object and he had made good. Hewas invited everywhere but went only to those places that he felt wouldhelp him in his great object, that of being Dictator, as it were, toSociety. He controlled the vote as to whether or not a debutante was asuccess. If he said she was to be the rage, she was the rage, and if hercharms did not appeal to him, it was a ve
ry wonderful thing for her toget by with them. He was a man of no wealth, having held for many yearsthe same position in a bank at a comfortable salary. It was no more thanenough to enable him to belong to all clubs, to live in bachelorapartments, to support thirty pairs of trousers and a suitable numberof coats and various grades of waistcoats, fancy and otherwise, andshoes and shoe-trees that mighty forests must have been denuded toobtain.
Mr. Parker had smiled on the effulgent beauty of Mabel Binks, and hersocial fortune was made. Any girl with social ambition would rather beseen at the ball game with Hiram G. Parker than any other man inRichmond, although he was never known to have seats in the grandstand orto take a girl in an automobile. The honour of being with him wassufficient, and the prestige gained by his favour was greater than allthe boxes in the grandstand could give or the delight of riding in ayear-after-next model of the finest car built.
Mr. Parker made no excuses, they say he never did, but just handed hislady fair up into our car and stepped in after her as though they hadreceived written invitations. The car was already full to overflowingand so overflow it did. Father and Wink spilled out and were soonwalking arm-and-arm, evidently striking up quite a friendship. Mabelmade her usual set at Zebedee, who was willy-nilly engrossed by herfavour.
Mr. Parker eyed all of us with the air of an appraiser and Dum saidafterwards she felt as a little puppy in a large litter must feel whenthe hard-hearted owner is trying to decide which ones must be drowned.Before he could decide which ones of us, if any, would make successfuldebutantes, the game was in full swing and even Mr. Parker had to letthe social game give way to that of football.
My, how we yelled! We yelled when Virginia came near making a point, andwe yelled when she came near losing one. When we could yell no longer weblew our horns until throats were rested enough to take up the burden ofyelling once more. Zebedee, standing out on the engine to make room forhis many guests, invited and otherwise, behaved like a windmill in acyclone. He waved his arms and legs and shouted encouragement to ourside until they could not have had the heart to be beaten.
Father's behaviour was really not much more dignified than Zebedee's.Love for his Alma Mater was as strong as ever and he rooted with as muchfervor as any one on the grounds.
Sleepy's playing was wonderful. I could hardly believe he was the sameman we had known at Willoughby. There was nothing sleepy about him now;on the contrary, he was about as wide awake a young man as one couldfind. He seemed to have the faculty of being in many places at one time,and if he once got the ball in those mighty hands, it took eleven men tostop him. When he would drop, great would be the fall thereof. Sorry,indeed, did I feel for the one who was under him when he fell. He musthave weighed a good two hundred pounds and over. He certainly did thebest playing on the Virginia team, so we thought, and when he made atouch-down that Zebedee said should go down in history, we were veryproud of being friends with the great Massie.
We won! Everybody in our car was wild with delight, but I must say mypleasure was somewhat dampened when I saw the people in the car next tous, the one decorated in light blue and white, in such deep dejection. Amiddle-aged man was openly weeping and his nice, pleasant-looking wifewas trying to console him and at the same time wiping her own eyes.Their son was on the Carolina team. It seems strange for non-combatantsto take defeat so much to heart, but it is just this kind of enthusiasmthat makes the annual game between Virginia and Carolina what it is:something to live for from year to year in the minds of a great manypersons. If Father, with no son to root for, could have tears of joy inhis eyes because Virginia won, why should not the father of the Carolinaplayer weep copiously when his state lost?
The victorious team were picked up bodaciously by the shouting crowd andborne on their shoulders to the waiting cars. The great Massie, begrimedalmost beyond recognition, passed us in a broad grin. Zebedee leapedover the fence and shook the young giant's dirty hand.
"Come to dinner with us! Got a table reserved at the Jefferson! Dinnerat six! Dance after!" Of course Sleepy was pleased to come, havingespied the sun glinting on Annie's hair.
"Of all sights the rarest And surely the fairest Was the shine of her yellow hair; In the sunlight gleaming, Each gold curl seeming A thing beyond compare.
Oh, were it the fashion For love to be passion, And knights still to joust for the fair, There'd be tender glances And couching of lances At the shine of her golden hair."
I know Sleepy felt like a knight of old, way down in his shy heart, ashe grabbed that football and turned over all his doughty opponentsmaking for the goal. In his heart he wore Annie's colours and in hismind he kissed her little hand. Annie had been receiving Harvie'sdevotion with much politeness, but now that Sleepy was the hero of thehour, she turned from her more dapper admirer and waved her hand to thedelighted and blushing George. Girls all love a football player. Theyare simply made that way. I think perhaps it is some old medievalspirit stirring within us, and we, too, fancy ourselves to be the ladyesfaire and idealize the tumbling, rolling, sweating, swearing boys intoour own true knights.
After the Virginia team, borne by in triumph, came the poor Carolinamen. They had put up a splendid fight and there had been moments whentheir success seemed possible. They took their defeat like the gentlementhey were, but I saw their mouths were trembling and one enormous blondwith a shock of hair resembling our big yellow chrysanthemums, had hisgreat hands up before his mud-caked face and his mighty shoulders wereshaking with sobs, sobs that came from a real broken heart. I hope a hotbath and a cold shower and a good Thanksgiving dinner helped to mendthat heart, but it was certainly broken for the time being if ever heartwas.
Now we all of us yelled for Carolina, yelled even harder than we had forour own team, and they gave us a sickly smile of gratitude.
During the game Mr. Parker had been very busy in his polite attentionsto all of us, and from his generally agreeable manner it looked asthough he thought we were all worth saving and none of the litter was tobe drowned. Mabel had renewed her attack on Zebedee and had crawled outon the engine by him, where she stood clutching his arm for support andgenerally behaving as though he were her own private property.
"She makes me sick!" declared Dum. "And Zebedee acting just as though heliked it!"
"Well, what must he do? Let her fall off?" I asked.
"Yes, let her fall off and stay off!"
All was over at last and the automobiles were busy backing out of theirplaces. Mr. Parker gathered in the pushing Mabel, who had doneeverything in her power to be asked to dinner with us at the Jefferson,but Zebedee had had so many quiet digs from Tweedles that even had heconsidered her an addition to the party, he would have been afraid toinclude her.
Our car was the last one out of the grounds because Mabel took so longto make up her mind to get off the engine and accept an invitation fromsome acquaintances who passed and asked her to let them take her home.
"See you to-night!" she called affectionately to Tweedles as she finallytook advantage of the offer.
"Not if we see you first!" they tweedled, in an aside.