THE SCOUT MASTER
385
All of the grown people went to the Thanksgiving game. Virginia
Ann had been going almost as far back as I could remember. Finally
the year arrived when even Brother was to be allowed to go with the
family; and the question was naturally raised, since I was only two
years younger than he, as to whether or not I, too, should be allowed
to go.
I should certainly have been taken along that day had I not
shown real indifference to it. But it was considered on the whole well
enough to leave me behind since Brother would be responsibility
enough for Uncle Jake on this, his favorite holiday. Further, this
year Virginia Ann was planning to attend, not with the rest of the
family, but with Bill Evers. And this, strangely enough, involved
myself.
When Brother told me that Bill Evers was her "date" for the
game, I did not quite understand what he meant. For several months
she had been going to movies and to dances with Bill Evers, but it
just happened that I had never before noticed this use of the word
"date."
Mother must have seen the puzzled expression on my counte–
nance. She put her hand on the top of my head and explained,
"Brother means that Bill Evers is going to escort Virginia Ann to the
football game." It did not occur to her that "escort" meant no more
to me than "date." She allowed a faint smile to play across her face
that seemed to tell me that other considerations than the weight of
Uncle Jake's responsibility had brought her to agreeing to leave me
alone on Thanksgiving afternoon. Presently she addressed these re–
marks to Father and Uncle Jake,
"As
we used to say in the country,
Bill Evers is going to carry her to the game today. And if I know
Virginia Ann's beaux, he'll not come for her till after we've left for
the game. Boys today don't seem to have any respect for the girls,
the way they keep them waiting."
"It used to be the boys that were kept waiting," Father said.
"It's really the girls' own fault. They don't requite anything of them."
"It never enters Virginia Ann's head," Mother said, "whether or
not promptness is a virtue in young men.'
"Well, well," Uncle Jake said rather sadly yet with the obvious
intention of softening the remarks being directed against his niece,
"Customs change. Everything changes."
Mother gazed about the room as though she were keeping most
of her thoughts to herself. At last she absently put her hand on my
head again and said that Uncle Jake was quite right, that everything
