The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1898-11-20

men and women wore some KIM OF Dig,
loose gloves shorn of fingers, their nalls
being covered with hardened beesWaX
Soon we left the village ana were
winding over an unfenced piny waste
which seemed never TO have been Guilt
waited. At intervals we came to big
dark stretches of matted shrubs, en-
circled by horizons of pines. TheSe
We're boys in their natural wild state.
once lakes, they have become filled up
to a great depth with peculiar water
loving reimbursement of plants
growing above each other. Useless as
they appear, they are valuable in two
ways; they are the home of the wild
cranberry and often indicate the Vicln-
ity of bog iron ore. The cranberry bog
is subjected, however, to quite an ex-
pensive culture and not less than three
years of preparation. The vines must
feel the cold water which seeps through
the Dogs, yet they need protection from
frost in June and from extreme w1ntry
cold. This protection is secured by
flooding, and system of irrigation is
needed. The owner of a bog must own
quite an extensive water right In neigh
boring ponds. The bog is also crossed
at regular intervals by narrow bitches
which are used for the distribution Of
the water In winter a sheet of ice
covers it, and in June, If frost is i'm
pending, a sheet of water seems to pro-
tect the cranberries against injury from
the cold.
We passed many of the sparkling
blue ponds which are such lovely
feature of the region, and soon the
Crowfish bog came in sight, already
dotted with pickers in groups of twenty
or thirty. Our wagon was driven under
some trees and soon emptied. And then
the knights of the kettle hurried to the
tally station, where they recorded their
names upon wide sheet of paste
board, and where a Weymouth girl
credits them by stroke of the pencil
for every measure they pick. Next the
field marshal distributes to each a big
shining tin measure holding eight
quarts. Thus armed off they start at
a run down a narrow path, which
shakes under the foot, and are quickly
down on their knees upon the thick
green-and-red carpet. There is no Wis
ible soil; the bog springs like hair
mattress, spread as are the vines upon
the top of the older growths-but they
are slender bushes, not vines, wiry and
set thick with minute stiff leaves and
loaded with berries clean, bright, hard,
and of every exquisite tint of red and
yellow.
The law of the field is to leave none
behind the picker. The bosses" ex-
perenced pickers, direct the crowd and
see that there is no neglect, cheating
nor confusion.
You can't step over that string,
said one of the juniors to me-
Cant L? It's only two feet high"
Yes but you daren't, mean. No
one can go over until all the berries are
picked clean on this side of it,
obi that is the rule, then?"
When / was fairly down on my knees,
shoulder to shoulder with some record
breaking picker / realized the awful
earnestness of it. The NAV of my six
quart measure looked terribly big; but
in not many minutes the first of its
rings of division was covered. At last
it was full and I found myself picking
my row in solitude and aching from the
posture Arrived at the tally to dis
charge my load-it scored me one and
that meant 10 cents-I remained there
to watch the rest, who were more bent
on pocketing dollars than l was.
steady stream moved to and from the
tally. The men were usually thin and
brown, like men who have followed the
water; the girls were quite nice look
ing, occasionally pretty; the women
stout and sensible-looking. But all
seemed in grim earnest; no talking, no
shouting nor fun, only the stiffness of
a company of racers. I had expected
a gayer spectacle; that the field would