The Bamberg herald. [volume] (Bamberg, S.C.) 1891-1972, 1902-12-11
HER BRIEF
HOUR OF TRIUMPH
A ROMANCE OF THE HOP-FlELDs.
BY MARGUERITE STABLER.
T - AY, Mollie," said Nolan, in
whats that fellow in tht
lecginoS dOin' I'D here"


The sun had passed the meridian,
and the shadows were beginning to
fall OF Nolan's side. The hop-feld code
of courtesy demands that when man
is picking with lady he give her
always the shady side. But Nolan, IN
his perturbation of mind, forgot his
manners.
'sNothin'," came indifferently from
Mollie, feeling the rays pelting down
upon her head, and remembering the
thoughtfulness of the fellow in the
leggings in pulling the fullest vines
down On her side.
''Say, Mollie,' asked Nolan. persua-
sively, after a half-hour's silence, dur
ing which time several couples had
changed sides so that the girl might
have the benefit of the shade, what
was he hangin' round you al mornin'
for?"
'Nothin'v' The black eyes were
stubbornly glued to their work, while
beads of perspiration stood out on the
round, tanned cheeks.
Thereafter, vine after vine was
reached and stripped in oppressive
silence. At length, after having de-
cided to adopt q course of moody
silence, which should break the
naughty spirit of this girl, and make
her hang upon his slightest word,
Nolan heard himself say, before he
knew it, in tender. coaxing tones:
"Say, Mollie, what was he talkin' to
you about, anyway"
"Nothin'!" Mollies chin went into
the air and her lips snapped together
like the blades of jack-knife. The
beads of perspiration had grown into
rivulets that trickled from nose to
chin, and splashed into the basket.
The foreman of the field rode by sew
eral times, and noticed gratefully there
was less talking and more work being
: done between the two than usual,
and when at last the shadows grew so
long 1t did not matter which side of
the row she was on, and the sun began
to redden behind 4 bank of smoke and
dust. the joyful sound Of the quitting
! bell lpealed over the fields.
Arms just lifted to reach a vine,
hands in the act of stripping branch,
fingers just crooked to pick 4 last
hop, stopped and fell empty at the
sound of that first tap. The unhappy
Nolan could net stop his thoughts so
quickly, nor resist a last appealing.
Say, Mollie, what's the matter with
you, anyway
But the maid only threw a defiant
eNothin'"' over her shoulder as she
was joined at the end Of the row by
: tall fellow il leggings. The black eyes
lost their defiance, the lips rippled into
smiles as she pushed her sun-bonnet
back and locke Up into the laughing
face under the sombrero.
"Great place, isn't it:' the tall fel-
low said, half to himself, as he
watched the pickers filing by-China-
men, Indians, Gaps, and whites of ev-
cry brand, and all sorts Of conditions.
There was the Objectionable element
Of "hobos," Of course. in plentitude,
but the majority of the pickers were
the men who, after harvesting their
own meagre little hay crops, packed
their wagons, loaded in their families,
whistled to their dogs, and started off
Tor three or four weeks camp. in the
Z hop-felds. With these families it is
a regular institution, and the one in
teresting occasion Of the year. Here
new acquaintances are made, foot-hill
gossip exchanged for tile district scan-
! dals, f1irtations and romances spring
up, flourish, and die, with the hops,
and mcst Of the back country bellies
date their social debut from tie Sat-
urday night dances.
Mollie stole one-sided glance at
the fellow in the leggings, and took
Z In every detail as his eyes followed the
crowd. She held her head just trifle
higher than usual when familiar faces
looked up and saw her chatting with
this stylish looking fellow in the cor
duroy knickers. In fact, when some
of her Coon Creek friends came along.
she found it inconvenient to looS their
way, for she felt that in refined society
their "Hello Molr' would not be con-
,sidered good form.
4sHow long have you worked here"
the tall fellow asked her, shortening his
stride to fall in with her little trip.
Mollie, delighted to be called upon
for information, gurgled out everything
she knew about the hop-ields; the adj
: vantage Of being paid by the piece
instead of the day, the amount the
average picker could make a day, the
weighing in the baskets, the processing
in the kiln, the pressing and baling,
and the joys of the dance given every
Saturday night. Adding, for she could
scarcely believe this distinguished-look-
ing parsonage could be common
picker, like Mike Nolan and Pinny
Smith. and the rest Of them: care
you visiting at Hoptown?"
"No," the fellow laughed, ''I'm cit
iZen, if I can stand these beastly
hours. For the next few weeks I'm
q SUI VI tuS sui Ill OIuSG W LII up LILY
Golfers for the next semester" This
fellow relished the dilating power Of
the black eyes beside him, and Mollie,
having studied Short Primer of Chem
istry, felt herself on an intellectual
level with this college senior.
as they neared the camp she was
conscious of a double row of curious
eyes peering at her from under tent
flaps, but tucking her chin up into
the air, she walked along as oblivious
Of them, apparently, as if she and this
new friend were alone in wilderness.
Before picking-time the next morn
ing it was thoroughly understood by
all the tenters on Mollie's side Of the
field that Nolan's race was run, and
that Mollie had a new STEADY" from
''below," as the southern counties are
termed by the inhabitants of the north
ern.
Nolan, his wrath cooled by nights
reDose became aware of this fact when