The Intermountain Catholic. (Salt Lake City [Utah] ;) 1899-1920, 1909-09-04
Lotte's Reward.

The Griswold cranberry bog lay broil-
ing in the hot September sunshine, not
even the suggestion of a breeze stirred
the heavy air over the meadow, though
on a hillside in the distance Lottie Ba-
ker could see the green grass waving,
as every now and then the wind swept
gently along the sloping field.
The line of busy pickers on the bog
had grown irregular as the forenoon
advanced, until now the uninitiated
would never have imagined they had
started together on the edge of the
commencement of the mornings labor
Lottie herself had started out by the
side of woman who was now in the
very van of the pickers. Twice already
she had passed Lottie, carrying her pail
filled with berries to be emptied out
into the boxes, and the girl knew that
she had come back with another blue
ticket each time-a precious ticket that
she had probably tied safely in the cor
ner of her handkerchief.
And Lottie, struggling for the first
time to pick the large ripe berries from
among their slender vines, wished she
could work as fast as Sarah Cummings,
for Lottie had not yet filled her first
pail with the red fruit.
You're in among the pitchforks, Lot
tie Baker" called a girl couple of
rows away.
Yes" said Lottie, "I am"
And the girl laughingly held UP her
arms for inspection. Now one peculiar
ity of a cranberry picker's costume is
the manner in which she manages to
protect her arms and hands by pulling
in pair of old stockings with holes cut
in the feet for her thumbs and fingers
to come through, for the cranberry
plants are scratchy, and troublesome
weeds frequently get into the bog.
One particularly miserable weed there
is, too, more troublesome in bog than
all the rest: a weed with brown seeds
that are just ripe at picking time, and
which are furnished with two sharp
points apiece to hold fast to whatever
they may come in contact with by way
of clothing. And Lottie Bakers black
stocking mitts were stuck full of the
noxious brown pitchforks.
"Why are Cranberry boys always in
such hot places?" asked the other girl
in disconnected tone.
"I don't know" replied Lottie.
"Grumbling?" asked a tall man who
was walking among the pickers.
Its terribly hot here, Mr.. Griswold,"
returned Myra Simmons. She was the
girl who had been talking to Lottie.
But Lottie Baker only laughed. See
the grass waving up there on the hill.
1t makes me feel cooler" she said
brightly.
why don't they put cranberry Dogs
on hills, Mr.. Griswold?" asked Myra.
Mature of the berry to grow in sand
in low places, so we have to plant on
the lowland. Don't forget that the boys
have to be flooded before the frost
comes" explained the man.
And then when winter comes we
have such lovely times skating here!"
cried Lottie, and her eyes shone with
the pleasure OF the remembrance.
The tall man smiled pleasantly He
was the owner OF the bog.
You give us a chance to earn money
IN the fall, Mr.. Griswold, and then in
the winter you give us a good time"
continued the girl.
That's one of the ways I have of
adding my mite to make up the worlds
happiness, Lottie," said Mr.. Griswold,
IS he passed along.
With the laugh on her lips, Lottie