Part 8 (1/2)
I took the reprimand like a lamb and tried to concentrate, but Mr.
Tucker's cheerful countenance kept forcing its way in front of Estates General, and what that history lesson was about I do not know to this day.
Six o'clock came at last and we piled on the train, the envy of all the girls at Gresham who had not had somebody pull wires and legs of the Bishop and other Clergy so they could go spend Thanksgiving in Richmond and see the famous game.
Our train did not puff into the station at Richmond until way into the night and we were tired and very hungry. Our food since a one o'clock dinner had been nothing but stacks of chocolate and crackers and chewing gum and fruit we had purchased from the train butcher, who pa.s.sed us every five minutes of the journey with a fresh supply of tempting wares.
”h.e.l.lo, girls!” Zebedee embraced all of us with his kind eyes, but Tweedles with his arms. ”Geewhilikins! but I am glad to see you! I was afraid you were never coming. Train an hour late and I know you are starving.”
”Starving? Starved!” exclaimed Dum.
”Well, I've had some eats sent up to the apartment and maybe you can make out until morning on what I have there.”
We packed ourselves two deep in the faithful Henry. We were tired and hungry but sleep was a million miles from the thought of any of us. When we arrived at the Tuckers' apartment and had satisfied the cravings of our inner men with the very substantial food that our host had provided for us, we decided that we might as well make a night of it, so we sat up to the wee small hours regaling the delighted Zebedee with tales of Gresham and Miss Plympton's chins.
”I declare, you girls tell so many stirring tales of adventure I should think you would write a book about it. If it were possible for a mere man to do such a thing, I'd write a book for girls and put all of you in it.”
”Please don't,” I begged, ”because I am going to do that very thing myself just as soon as I get through with school. 'Bright, clean, juvenile fiction,' as the ads say, that's what I mean to make of it.”
”Are you going to put me in?” he pleaded.
”Of course! Aren't you in it? How could I make a book of all of us without you?”
”Well, if I am going to be in the great book of books as a hero of romance, I think I'd best go to bed and get some beauty sleep so I can make a good appearance in fiction. I've had a cot put up for myself in an empty apartment on the floor below so you young ladies can have the freedom of the flat. I'm going to let you sleep until luncheon. We have to get an early start for the ball park so we can get a good place.
Speaking of romance,--did I tell you that Miss Mabel Binks is making a visit with your Cousin Park Garnett, Page?”
”Heavens!” tweedled the twins. ”Old Mabel Binks is always around.”
”She is looking very handsome, and is quite toned down. She is having a ripping time in society and Mrs. Garnett is doing a lot for her, dinner parties, teas and such.”
”I bet you have been to them and are being nice to her!” stormed Dum.
”Well, I have been so-so nice to her but not so terribly attentive. She is not my style exactly.” But Dum and Dee would not be satisfied until Zebedee promised he would not be any nicer to Mabel Binks in the future than common politeness demanded, and that they were to be the judge of what common politeness did demand. Zebedee went off laughing to seek his lowly cot in the vacant apartment and we were soon asleep, but the last thing Tweedles said was: ”Horrid old Mabel Binks!” And certainly the last thing I thought before slumber held me was the same thing.
CHAPTER X.
VIRGINIA VERSUS CAROLINA.
What a day that Thanksgiving was! Could anything be more fun than to be sixteen ('most seventeen); to have devoted friends; good health; to be allowed 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 the great event of the year: the football match between Virginia and Carolina?
We were in such a gale that Zebedee threatened to lock us up for the day.
”I am afraid you will disgrace me before night,” he declared.
The best thing of all that happened was a sharp ringing of the bell while we were having the luncheon Zebedee had brought from the cafe and served in the apartment, and who should come in but Father? Zebedee had long-distanced him to Bracken and in spite of the sickly condition of the neighbourhood and Sally Winn's having him up in the night, he had caught 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 the game in, Zebedee had rented for the day a great seven-seated car that held us all quite comfortably. It was a rusty old thing but was decorated from end to end with blue and yellow, the University of Virginia colours. Our host had ready for us a dozen huge yellow chrysanthemums, two for each girl and one for each man. We looked like a float in a parade and as we chugged out Monument Avenue, every one turned to look at the gay car. Everybody had a horn and everybody blew like Gabriel on the last day.
Of course Zebedee had found out the very best place on the grounds to park the car and of course he got that place. He was a man of great resources and always seemed to know exactly where to apply for what he wanted. For instance, his getting permission for us to leave Gresham for Thanksgiving holidays was simply unprecedented. As he said, he had pulled every wire in sight, and where there wasn't a wire, he found a leg. Anyhow, there we were.