Smyrna times., 1896-11-04
ENGLISH HOP YARDS.
HARVEST SCENES DESCRIBED BY AN
AMERICAN VISITOR.

esque Situations, but There Is Too Much
Poverty to Admit of Poetry.
Yesterday 1 spent at Mailing, an an
cient market town about 80 miles from
London, which is i'll the midst of one of
the most fertile and extensive hop dis
tricts in the world, the soil being of the
rich quality that produces the famous
golden hop. 1 stood ON an eminence
and surveyed in every direction the
plantations of tall hops, luxuriant on
the straight, firmly set poles, the deep
green of the vine leaves beautifully
gemmed by the great punches of golden
flower. On a hillside little distance
to the left were the uniform white tents
of the hop pickers, like the encampment
of an army-for you must know that
the hop pickers are not residents of the
neighborhOod. They come from distances
by families. a large proportion of them
from London. And, be it known, the
majority of the hop pickers are wretch
edly poor The pay for hop picking is
SO very little that only by the united
efforts of family of three or four
workers is the result of the days labor
worth the effort Last year, for exam
pie, the pay for picking was shilling
for seven bushels, SO that a worker had
to complete seven bushels before the
shilling was earned. This year cOndi-
tions are little better, but at the best
hop picking is only profitable when the
family has six or eight pairs Of expert
hands to strip the vines swiftly. Some
Of the women have reduced this picking
to an art, the deft facility with which
they take four or five flowers at a time
completely deceiving the novice, who
iulagines skill to be nothing i'll this
business.
The poles i'll a hopfield are so perfectly
set at right angles that you may look
down a uniform avenue of Overhanging
vines in whatever direction you turn
your eyes. But this exactitude is less
for beauty Of appearance than for con-
venlence OF arrangement of picking par
ties, for Il field is let out i'll small sec
tiOns, so many hills-two poles make a
hill-tO a family, according as the fam
lily has agreed for half bin or more.
Therefore, as you walk down the path
that intersects IA hopheld, you see here
and there ut fixed distances apart the
different independent groups Of pickers,
their canvas bins, with wide, flaring
mouths, all Of regular size, stretched OH
poles and set on CrOsspieccs the length
of their section, and while the man cuts
the vines a thrd Of the way up the psles
and pulls up the poles to carry to the
bin side the women and children inces-
sanity work from Il. III. to z p m,
save only Tor the half hour at noon for
dinner. And what sight it is! At the
very edge Of the field where | spent
most time rcGIs, rugged and tall, the
ivy draped tower Of st. Leonards, said
to be the YcIy first, and therefore the
Oldest, Of the Norman towers, the pic
tuIesque ruins Of which so interest the
intelligent visitor to rural England.
This tower was built by Gundulf, bishop
of Rochester, somewhere about IO7S-9O.
This abbey, iy the way, has been re-
stored and is once more home Of nuns.
AT the foot Of this old tower yesterday
rolled and tumbled score of grimy,
half naked, tatterdemalion children, Of
have been IN arms to pair Of 4-year-
old twins, In patched, dirty red dresses,
and with huge brass earrings hiding the
lObes Of tEeir uncleam little ears. Thus
did half barA&rCus young mOdesty kick
up its slOvcnly little legs III contempt of
that still grim though dismantled tower,
built eight centuries ago to repeI the
assaults Of those savages who were fore
runners Of the present day Englishman.
And among the vines yonder We're the
motley groups Of persons to whom these
little human blOts appertained. Not by
any means rs picturesque and fascinat-
ing as Italian grape pickers; nothing of
the rich, dark beauty of the southern
types, but ii different sort of interest at
taches to these hOpeleSSly ignorant, half
vagrant creatures, who have come to
the picking-by donkey cart, by train,
on foot-bearing with them their mis-
cradle utensils for cooking and faring,
III their rags and their tatters, the filth
of which they are not ashamed, Sleep
ing by night i'll tents if they are so for
tunate, behind hedges and under rude
wigwams Of boughs, if they must, work
ing from day dawn to evening close for
mere pittGnce-yet not woltish or sur
ly, not ruuC-indeed, good natured
when you address them, and in rough
way jocular or i'll shy way communica-
tive. Here and there, to be sure, some
thing more pretentious, the epitOme of
lower middle class shift and tidiness,
but III the main hop picking scene
| such as you may witness at Mailing
tells you what pitiful poverty and
wretchedness are hidden from the world
by the purple splendOr of the richest ma
tion upon which the curious sun looks
askance.
Fill i'll imaginatively the picture Of
which l have given but true outlines.
Scan the hillside encampment, where in
fancy and age swarm about the evening
fires. Walk through the fields of vine girt
poles, that seem a compact mass as you
look down upon them. Talk with these
women and children stripping the yell
low flowers swiftly from the stems.
Glance at the various troops of thought
lessly begotten infants rolling on the
green grass or burrowing i'll the soft
earth, and then, as you blow the froth
from your next glass of beer, reflect
how the best hops yielded by bountiful
nature are gathered for your benefit
| Cor. Chicago Times Herald