two o'clock
There is a tradition at Hillton , almost as firmly inwrought as that which credits Professor Durkee with wearing a wig , to the effect that Thanksgiving Day is always rainy . To-day proved an exception to the rule . The sun shone quite warmly and scarce a cloud was to be seen . At two o'clock the grand stand was filled , and late arrivals had perforce to find accommodations on the grass along the side-lines . Some fifty lads had accompanied their team from St. Eustace , and the portion of the stand where they sat was blue from top to bottom . But the crimson of Hillton fluttered and waved on either side and dotted the field with little spots of vivid color wherever a Hilltonian youth or ally sat , strolled , or lay . Yard and village were alike well-nigh deserted ; here was the staid professor , the corpulent grocer , the irrepressible small boy , the important-looking senior , the shouting , careless junior , the giggling sister , the smiling mother , the patronizing papa , the crimson-bedecked waitress from the boarding house , the -- the -- band !