Chapter118

itwaslateintheeveningwhenphiliparrivedatferne.itwasmrs.athelny’snativevillage,andshehadbeenaccustomedfromherchildhoodtopickinthehop-fieldtowhichwithherhusbandandherchildrenshestillwenteveryyear.likemanykentishfolkherfamilyhadgoneoutregularly,gladtoearnalittlemoney,butespeciallyregardingtheannualouting,lookedforwardtoformonths,asthebestofholidays.theworkwasnothard,itwasdoneincommon,intheopenair,andforthechildrenitwasalong,delightfulpicnic;heretheyoungmenmetthemaidens;inthelongeveningswhenworkwasovertheywanderedaboutthelanes,makinglove;andthehoppingseasonwasgenerallyfollowedbyweddings.theywentoutincartswithbedding,potsandpans,chairsandtables;andfernewhilethehoppinglastedwasdeserted.theywereveryexclusiveandwouldhaveresentedtheintrusionofforeigners,astheycalledthepeoplewhocamefromlondon;theylookeddownuponthemandfearedthemtoo;theywerearoughlot,andtherespectablecountryfolkdidnotwanttomixwiththem.intheolddaysthehopperssleptinbarns,buttenyearsagoarowofhutshadbeenerectedatthesideofameadow;andtheathelnys,likemanyothers,hadthesamehuteveryyear.

athelnymetphilipatthestationinacarthehadborrowedfromthepublic-houseatwhichhehadgotaroomforphilip.itwasaquarterofamilefromthehop-field.theylefthisbagthereandwalkedovertothemeadowinwhichwerethehuts.theywerenothingmorethanalong,lowshed,dividedintolittleroomsabouttwelvefeetsquare.infrontofeachwasafireofsticks,roundwhichafamilywasgrouped,eagerlywatchingthecookingofsupper.thesea-airandthesunhadbrownedalreadythefacesofathelny’schildren.mrs.athelnyseemedadifferentwomaninhersun-bonnet:youfeltthatthelongyearsinthecityhadmadenorealdifferencetoher;shewasthecountrywomanbornandbred,andyoucouldseehowmuchathomeshefoundherselfinthecountry.shewasfryingbaconandatthesametimekeepinganeyeontheyoungerchildren,butshehadaheartyhandshakeandajollysmileforphilip.athelnywasenthusiasticoverthedelightsofaruralexistence.

“we’restarvedforsunandlightinthecitieswelivein.itisn’tlife,it’salongimprisonment.letussellallwehave,betty,andtakeafarminthecountry.”  “icanseeyouinthecountry,”sheansweredwithgood-humouredscorn.“why,thefirstrainydaywe

hadinthewinteryou’dbecryingforlondon.”sheturnedtophilip.“athelny’salwayslikethiswhenwecomedownhere.country,ilikethat!why,hedon’tknowaswedefromamangel-wurzel.”

“daddywaslazytoday,”remarkedjane,withthefranknesswhichcharacterizedher,“hedidn’tfillonebin.”

“i’mgettingintopractice,child,andtomorrowishallfillmorebinsthanallofyouputtogether.”

“comeandeatyoursupper,children,”saidmrs.athelny.“where’ssally?”

“hereiam,mother.”

shesteppedoutoftheirlittlehut,andtheflamesofthewoodfireleapedupandcastsharpcolouruponherface.oflatephiliphadonlyseenherinthetrimfrocksshehadtakentosinceshewasatthedressmaker’s,andtherewassomethingverycharmingintheprintdresssheworenow,looseandeasytoworkin;thesleevesweretuckedupandshowedherstrong,roundarms.shetoohadasun-bonnet.

“youlooklikeamilkmaidinafairystory,”saidphilip,asheshookhandswithher.

“she’sthebelleofthehop-fields,”saidathelny.“myword,ifthesquire’ssonseesyouhe’llmakeyouanofferofmarriagebeforeyoucansayjackrobinson.”

“thesquirehasn’tgotason,father,”saidsally.

shelookedaboutforaplacetositdownin,andphilipmaderoomforherbesidehim.shelookedwonderfulinthenightlitbywoodfires.shewaslikesomeruralgoddess,andyouthoughtofthosefresh,stronggirlswhomoldherrickhadpraisedinexquisitenumbers.thesupperwassimple,breadandbutter,crispbacon,teaforthechildren,andbeerformr.andmrs.athelnyandphilip.athelny,eatinghungrily,praisedloudlyallheate.heflungwordsofscornatlucullusandpiledinvectivesuponbrillat-savarin.

“there’sonethingonecansayforyou,athelny,”saidhiswife,“youdoenjoyyourfoodandno

mistake!”

“cookedbyyourhand,mybetty,”hesaid,stretchingoutaneloquentforefinger.

philipfelthimselfverycomfortable.helookedhappilyatthelineoffires,withpeoplegroupedaboutthem,andthecolouroftheflamesagainstthenight;attheendofthemeadowwasalineofgreatelms,andabovethestarrysky.thechildrentalkedandlaughed,andathelny,achildamongthem,madethemroarbyhistricksandfancies.

“theythinkararelotofathelnydownhere,”saidhiswife.“why,mrs.bridgessaidtome,idon’tknowwhatweshoulddowithoutmr.athelnynow,shesaid.he’salwaysuptosomething,he’smorelikeaschoolboythanthefatherofafamily.”

sallysatinsilence,butsheattendedtophilip’swantsinathoughtfulfashionthatcharmedhim.itwaspleasanttohaveherbesidehim,andnowandthenheglancedathersunburned,healthyface.oncehecaughthereyes,andshesmiledquietly.whensupperwasoverjaneandasmallbrotherweresentdowntoabrookthatranatthebottomofthemeadowtofetchapailofwaterforwashingup.

“youchildren,showyourunclephilipwherewesleep,andthenyoumustbethinkingofgoingtobed.”

smallhandsseizedphilip,andhewasedtowardsthehut.hewentinandstruckamatch.therewasnofurnitureinit;andbesideatinbox,inwhichclotheswerekept,therewasnothingbutthebeds;therewerethreeofthem,oneagainsteachwall.athelnyfollowedphilipinandshowedthemproudly.

“that’sthestufftosleepon,”hecried.“noneofyourspring-mattressesandswansdown.ineversleepsosoundlyanywhereashere.youwillsleepbetweensheets.mydearfellow,ipityyoufromthebottomofmysoul.”

thebedsconsistedofathicklayerofhopvine,onthetopofwhichwasacoatingofstraw,andthiswas

coveredwithablanket.afteradayintheopenair,withthearomaticscentofthehopsallroundthem,thehappypickerssleptliketops.bynineo’clockallwasquietinthemeadowandeveryoneinbedbutoneortwomenwhostilllingeredinthepublic-houseandwouldnotcomebacktillitwasclosedatten.athelnywalkedtherewithphilip.butbeforehewentmrs.athelnysaidtohim:

“webreakfastaboutaquartertosix,butidaresayyouwon’twanttogetupasearlyasthat.yousee,wehavetosettoworkatsix.”

“ofcoursehemustgetupearly,”criedathelny,“andhemustworkliketherestofus.he’sgottoearnhisboard.nowork,nodinner,mylad.”

“thechildrengodowntobathebeforebreakfast,andtheycangiveyouacallontheirwayback.theypassthejollysailor.”

“ifthey’llwakemei’llcomeandbathewiththem,”saidphilip.

janeandharoldandedwardshoutedwithdelightattheprospect,andnextmorningphilipwasawakenedoutofasoundsleepbytheirburstingintohisroom.theboysjumpedonhisbed,andhehadtochasethemoutwithhisslippers.heputonacoatandapairoftrousersandwentdown.thedayhadonlyjustbroken,andtherewasanipintheair;buttheskywascloudless,andthesunwasshiningyellow.sally,holdingconnie’shand,wasstandinginthemiddleoftheroad,withatowelandabathing-dressoverherarm.hesawnowthathersun-bonnetwasofthecolouroflavender,andagainstitherface,redandbrown,waslikeanapple.shegreetedhimwithherslow,sweetsmile,andhenoticedsuddenlythatherteethweresmallandregularandverywhite.hewonderedwhytheyhadnevercaughthisattentionbefore.

“iwasforlettingyousleepon,”shesaid,“buttheywouldgoupandwakeyou.isaidyoudidn’treally

wanttocome.”

“oh,yes,idid.”

theywalkeddowntheroadandthencutacrossthemarshes.thatwayitwasunderamiletothesea.thewaterlookedcoldandgray,andphilipshiveredatthesightofit;buttheotherstoreofftheirclothesandraninshouting.sallydideverythingalittleslowly,andshedidnotcomeintothewatertillalltherestweresplashingroundphilip.swimmingwashisonlyaccomplishment;hefeltathomeinthewater;andsoonhehadthemallimitatinghimasheplayedatbeingaporpoise,andadrowningman,andafatladyafraidofwettingherhair.thebathewasuproarious,anditwasnecessaryforsallytobeveryseveretoinducethemalltocomeout.

“you’reasbadasanyofthem,”shesaidtophilip,inhergrave,maternalway,whichwasatoncecomicandtouching.“they’renotanythinglikesonaughtywhenyou’renothere.”

theywalkedback,sallywithherbrighthairstreamingoveroneshoulderandhersun-bonnetinherhand,butwhentheygottothehutsmrs.athelnyhadalreadystartedforthehop-garden.athleny,inapairoftheoldesttrousersanyonehadeverworn,hisjacketbuttoneduptoshowhehadnoshirton,andinawide-brimmedsofthat,wasfryingkippersoverafireofsticks.hewasdelightedwithhimself:helookedeveryinchabrigand.assoonashesawthepartyhebegantoshoutthewitches’chorusfrommacbethovertheodorouskippers.

“youmustn’tdawdleoveryourbreakfastormotherwillbeangry,”hesaid,whentheycameup.

andinafewminutes,haroldandjanewithpiecesofbreadandbutterintheirhands,theysaunteredthroughthemeadowintothehop-field.theywerethelasttoleave.ahop-gardenwasoneofthesightsconnectedwithphilip’sboyhoodandtheoast-housestohimthemosttypicalfeatureofthekentishscene.

itwaswithnosenseofstrangeness,butasthoughhewereathome,thatphilipfollowedsallythroughthelonglinesofthehops.thesunwasbrightnowandcastasharpshadow.philipfeastedhiseyesontherichnessofthegreenleaves.thehopswereyellowing,andtohimtheyhadthebeautyandthepassionwhichpoetsinsicilyhavefoundinthepurplegrape.astheywalkedalongphilipfelthimselfoverwhelmedbytherichluxuriance.asweetscentarosefromthefatkentishsoil,andthefitfulseptemberbreezewasheavywiththegoodlyperfumeofthehops.athelstanfelttheexhilarationinstinctively,forhelifteduphisvoiceandsang;itwasthecrackedvoiceoftheboyoffifteen,andsallyturnedround.

“youbequiet,athelstan,orweshallhaveathunderstorm.”

inamomenttheyheardthehumofvoices,andinamomentmorecameuponthepickers.theywereallhardatwork,talkingandlaughingastheypicked.theysatonchairs,onstools,onboxes,withtheirbasketsbytheirsides,andsomestoodbythebinthrowingthehopstheypickedstraightintoit.therewerealotofchildrenaboutandagoodmanybabies,someinmakeshiftcradles,sometuckedupinarugonthesoftbrowndryearth.thechildrenpickedalittleandplayedagreatdeal.thewomenworkedbusily,theyhadbeenpickersfromchildhood,andtheycouldpicktwiceasfastasforeignersfromlondon.theyboastedaboutthenumberofbushelstheyhadpickedinaday,buttheycomplainedyoucouldnotmakemoneynowasinformertimes:thentheypaidyouashillingforfivebushels,butnowtheratewaseightandevenninebushelstotheshilling.intheolddaysagoodpickercouldearnenoughintheseasontokeepherfortherestoftheyear,butnowtherewasnothinginit;yougotaholidayfornothing,andthatwasaboutall.mrs.hillhadboughtherselfapianneroutofwhatshemadepicking,soshesaid,butshewasverynear,

onewouldn’tliketobenearlikethat,andmostpeoplethoughtitwasonlywhatshesaid,ifthetruthwasknownperhapsitwouldbefoundthatshehadputabitofmoneyfromthesavingsbanktowardsit.

thehoppersweredividedintobincompaniesoftenpickers,notcountingchildren,andathelnyloudlyboastedofthedaywhenhewouldhaveacompanyconsistingentirelyofhisownfamily.eachcompanyhadabin-man,whosedutyitwastosupplyitwithstringsofhopsattheirbins(thebinwasalargesackonawoodenframe,aboutsevenfeethigh,andlongrowsofthemwereplacedbetweentherowsofhops;)anditwastothispositionthatathelnyaspiredwhenhisfamilywasoldenoughtoformacompany.meanwhileheworkedratherbyencouragingothersthanbyexertionsofhisown.hesauntereduptomrs.athelny,whohadbeenbusyforhalfanhourandhadalreadyemptiedabasketintothebin,andwithhiscigarettebetweenhislipsbegantopick.heassertedthathewasgoingtopickmorethananyonethatday,butmother;ofcoursenoonecouldpicksomuchasmother;thatremindedhimofthetrialswhichaphroditeputuponthecuriouspsyche,andhebegantotellhischildrenthestoryofherlovefortheunseenbridegroom.hetolditverywell.itseemedtophilip,listeningwithasmileonhislips,thattheoldtalefittedinwiththescene.theskywasverybluenow,andhethoughtitcouldnotbemorelovelyeveningreece.thechildrenwiththeirfairhairandrosycheeks,strong,healthy,andvivacious;thedelicateformofthehops;thechallengingemeraldoftheleaves,likeablareoftrumpets;themagicofthegreenalley,narrowingtoapointasyoulookeddowntherow,withthepickersintheirsun-bonnets:perhapstherewasmoreofthegreekspirittherethanyoucouldfindinthebooksofprofessorsorinmuseums.hewasthankfulforthebeautyofengland.hethoughtofthewindingwhiteroadsandthehedgerows,thegreenmeadowswiththeirelm-trees,thedelicatelineofthehillsandthecopsesthatcrownedthem,theflatnessofthemarshes,andthemelancholyofthenorthsea.hewasverygladthathefeltitsloveliness.butpresentlyathelnygrewrestlessandannouncedthathewouldgoandaskhowrobertkemp’smotherwas.hekneweveryoneinthegardenandcalledthemallbytheirchristiannames;heknewtheirfamilyhistoriesandallthathadhappenedtothemfrombirth.withharmlessvanityheplayedthefinegentlemanamongthem,andtherewasatouchofcondescensioninhisfamiliarity.philipwouldnotgowithhim.

“i’mgoingtoearnmydinner,”hesaid.

“quiteright,myboy,”answeredathelny,withawaveofthehand,ashestrolledaway.“nowork,nodinner.”