Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1898-10-15
TOP-PICKING," said young

4 Il August apple from his
pocket. and fed 1t leisurely to the beau
tiful horse against which he leaned
"Why. yes. it is rather romantic bust
ness. if you look upon it from a roman.
tic point of view. You're an artist ell?
Come to sketch our little bits of roman
,ic scenery? But there's nothing par
ricularly picturesque about our hop
fields. Just sunshine and the gold
green of the clusters, and the curling
tendrils reaching out for something To
Grasp at, and the air so blue and clear
that one can almost see the straight
lines of the sunshine. OF course, it
looks pretty to me, for | was born and
brought up upon it; but-eXcuse me
| can't see what there is specially WOr
thy Of an artists pencil
do you see those long perspectives
of green alleys" said he; with figures
running in ana out, and the old wom-
an sitting among the fragrant heaps,
with the scarlet cloak, and two little
foddles at her feet? And Wonder feeble,
bent old man, with water cans on his
shoulders? Why. there are a hundred
hits of genre Eere, to say nothing of
the background
And Raymond took out mis- millboar1s
and color boxes, set up an impromptu
easel aud began diligently to paint.
Squire Durell'S son looked on with Il"
amused smile r him, the machinery
o. the great hop farm was the real
business of life. Artists and such like
were merely pleasure seekers who dis
ported themselves airily on the out
skirts of creation.
You will find some very pretty faces
here" said Darrell. IF you care tor
Sketching that sort of thing. People
come here from all parts of the country
il hop-picking time. Gypsies. tranps,
respectable poor workers who don't OBJ
ject to turning an honest penny, young
people who come here for the froliC of
the thing, and poor old wretches who
think that every season will be their
last. It's healthy. the doctors say. At
all events it's profitable. In hop season
there isn't a cottage. a farmhouse gar
ret nor even barn untenanted. There
are tents, white sprinkle Of them,
down in the meadow by the vines,
where people sleep at nights. You can
see them from here. You are staying
in this part of the neighborhood? No?
My father will be very glad to see you
up at the house. if you will honor us
by becoming our guest tonight
And raising his light straw hat
Daniel DurelI went his way, the beau
tiful, satin-s skinned white horse follow
ing like docile kitten at his heels
Hugh" he said to a servant who
had come down with a hamper from the
house. take a cup of coffee and two or
three of these white rolls with my COM
plments to that gentleman in the white
linen coat who Is sketching under the
trees. And, Hugh
STRIP A.
Did you carry the sardine sand
wiches and the basket of apricotS and
the fresh milk to the young girl in
black?'
The man nodded.
"She didn't want to take EN-, Mr.
Durell," said he she was all for call
ing me back. but | minded your order
sir, and made off as fast as | could,
pretending not to hear
Durell smiled.
That's right" said he, "and don't
forget the cold meat and slices of new
bread for old Dunstable. He grows
weaker and weaker every day, and
there was nothing but the heel of a loaf
and black cheese rind in his dinner
basket, for saw it myself"
ITS all right, sir said Hugh.
And then Durell, going up to the great
house. shrewdly noticed all the hop
pickers as they sat and lay around un-
der the shadow of the vines, in the
dolce far nlente of the noon interms
sion, and finally came into the great
cool room where the scent of cheese
making filed the air, and the muslin
curtains futtered to and fro in the
breeze.
The squire himself sat there, equity
out content. Iced claret and cold chick
EN- We're on the table; forced dollhouse
peaches scented the atmosphere; plate
Oh deviled tongue, with curry sauce
supplied the fiery element, and delicate
outlets, Dreaded and fried in egg, were
brought in. The old gentleman's face
\ frightened at the sight of his son.
1t has seemed a long day without
you, my boy" said he. "Sit down, sit
uown Do you know, Daniel, I've been
ulihking all the morning that l wish
- YOU'D bring a wife home to the old
place. She would be company for me
when you are gone. Why don't you
mink of it, my lad?"
have been thinking of it. father"