The Yakima herald. [volume] (North Yakima, W.T. [Wash.]) 1889-1914, 1898-09-29
T JoP-p1cKING," said young

tlrul morse against Wnlcn ne ieab,N.
"Why. yes, II Is rather romantic busl-
ness. if you look upon 1t from roman
tic point OF view. You're an artist, .ehf
Come to sketch our little bits of roman-
tic scenery But there's nothing par
ticularly picturesque about our hop
fields, Just sunshine and the gold
green of the clusters, and the curling
tendris reaching ont 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, 1t
looks pretty TO me, for | WIS born and
] cant see what there is specially wor-
thy of IN artists pencil"
"Do you see those long pcrspectives
OF green alleys" said he; with figures
running in and out and the old WON
an sitting among the fragrant heaps,
with thu scarlet cloak. aad two little
tOddles nj her feetf And yonder feeble,
bent old man. with water cans on his
shoulders? Why, there are hundred
bits OF genre here. 10 81: nothing of
the background"
And Raymond took out mis- millboards
and color boxes. set up an impromptu
easel AM began diligently TO paint.
Squire Durell's son looked on with an
amused smile. t. him. the machinery
OK the great hep 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 for
sketching that sort of thing. People
come here from all parts of the country
In hop-picking time. Gypsies, tramps,
respectable poor workers who don't oh
ject to turning an honest penny, young
people who come here for the frolic OF
the thing, and poor old wrrtcheS who
think that every season will NE their
Last. It's healthy, the doctors say. At
oil events it's profitable. In hop season
there isn't a cottage, farmhouse gar
rot, nor even barn untenanted There
are tents, a 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
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 Durell went his way, the beau
tiful satin-skinnad white horse follow
ing like a docile kitten at his heels.
Hugh" he said to a servant who
bad come down with n hamper from the
house, take cup Of coffee and two or
three of these white rolls. with my COM
pliments to that gentleman in the white
linen coat who is sketchinS under the
trees And, Hugh"
"SirT'
did you carry the Sardine sand
witches 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 I could
pretending not TO hear"
Durell smiled.
That's right" said he. land don't
forget the cold meat and slices of new
bread for old PUNISHABLE. He grows
weaker and weaker every day, and
there was nothing but the heel of a loaf
and a black cheese rind in his dinner
basket, for / saw 1t 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 I'M
der the shadow of the vines. in the
dolce far niente of the noon intermis-
sion. and finally came into the great,
cool room where the scent of cheese
making filed the air, and the muslin
curtains fluttered 10 and fro in the
breeze.
The squire himself sat there. equity
but content Iced claret and cold chick
en- were on the table; forced hot house
peaches scented the atmosphere; plate
of 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 ut the sight of his SON
at has seemed long day without
you, my boy" said he. ''Sit down, sit
down. Do you know, Daniel. I've been
thinking all the morning that ! wish
you'd bring wife home 10 the old
place. She would be company for me
when you are gone. Why don't you
think of 1t, my ladT''
Il have been thinking of It, father"
said the squire's son. But what would
,o,, COW cir ~ T ,vora to ma rrv n vnor