A WET HOP-PICKING—CONCLUSION
TL;DRAbstract
Sept. 17.—The hop-picking has been in full swing for over a week—a week of the wretchedest weather. It has rained in all possible ways from insidious drizzle to roaring impetuous thunder-shower; but always it has rained, and for the most part a steady business-like downpour has prevailed. In this, sheltered or not according as they could contrive it with an old umbrella or so, the miserable hop-pickers have stood by their baskets, ten or twelve hours a day. Often, ere they could reach their work in the early morning, they must have been wet to the skin, and so remained until the evening. To this and their other discomforts—the clamminess of cold food, the sickening wetness of everything to the touch, the dismal rain-colour in all the air—there has been added that of unspeakable mud wherever they go, loading their boots, sticking itself to them as if alive, clinging in cakes to their drenched clothes.
Chat with Paper
AI Agents for this Paper
Sept. 17.—The hop-picking has been in full swing for over a week—a week of the wretchedest weather. It has rained in all possible ways from insidious drizzle to roaring impetuous thunder-shower; but always it has rained, and for the most part a steady business-like downpour has prevailed. In this, sheltered or not according as they could contrive it with an old umbrella or so, the miserable hop-pickers have stood by their baskets, ten or twelve hours a day. Often, ere they could reach their work in the early morning, they must have been wet to the skin, and so remained until the evening. To this and their other discomforts—the clamminess of cold food, the sickening wetness of everything to the touch, the dismal rain-colour in all the air—there has been added that of unspeakable mud wherever they go, loading their boots, sticking itself to them as if alive, clinging in cakes to their drenched clothes.
Keywords
Chat
Click to start Chat