Chapter 119 Chapter 19

Philip, who had no basket of his own, sat with Sally.Gene found it ridiculous that Philip would help her eldest sister pick hops instead of helping her.So Philip had to agree to help Sally when her basket was full.Sally picked them almost as fast as her mother. "Picking that kind of thing hurts your hands, and makes it hard for you to sew?" Philip asked Sally. "Oh, no. Picking hops also requires soft hands. That's why women always pick hops faster than men. After doing rough work for a long time, the hands will become rough and the fingers will become stiff and inflexible. , can't get up sooner."

Philip liked to admire her quick movements, and Sally looked at him from time to time, with a motherly look on her face which was not amusing but charming.At first he was clumsy, for which she often laughed at him.Sally bent down and showed him the trick of pulling up the whole hop so that their hands touched.To his amazement, Sally blushed instantly.No matter what, he couldn't convince himself that she was a Yingying woman now, because he had known her since she was a little girl, and he couldn't help treating her like a child.However, the fact that she has many suitors behind her shows that she is no longer a wench.Although they had only been here for a few days, one of Sally's uncles had already set her sights on her, and she had to listen patiently to his raving words.Her uncle was named Peter Gunn, the son of Mrs. Athelney's sister.This sister of Mrs. Athelney married a farmer near Fern.Peter Gunn felt it necessary to visit the hop meadows every day, for reasons which were tacitly understood.

At eight o'clock sharp, a horn sounded in my ears, which was an order to call off work and have breakfast.Although Mrs. Athelny kept nagging them that they were not worthy of the breakfast, they devoured it deliciously.As soon as supper was over, they resumed their work until twelve o'clock, when the horn sounded again, calling the work to a close for lunch.Taking advantage of this gap, the measurer brought the bookkeeper along and counted boxes one by one.The bookkeeper enters the weight picked first in his own book and then in the collector's book.From the box full of hops, hook the hops with a bushel measure and pour them into a large cloth bag.Then the measurer and the coachman loaded the sacks of hops into the wagon.Athelny would come and go now and then, telling how many hops Mrs. Heath had picked, or how many hops Jones had collected, and then, as a matter of course, begging the whole family to try to outdo them.He always wanted to set a record for picking hops.In the high spirits of his life he could pick hops without rest for an hour; but his main interest was in the way in which the movement of picking hops brought out the best of the beauty of his noble hands.He had always been immensely proud of his hands.In order to trim and beautify his nails, he spent a lot of effort.As he spread his tapering fingers, he told Philip that the Spanish Grand Dukes slept with oiled gloves on to keep their hands white all the time.He said in a dramatic tone that the hand holding Europe was always as beautiful and delicate as a woman's hand.He looked at his hands and sighed with satisfaction as he gracefully plucked the hops.When he got tired of the action, he would roll himself a cigarette, and talk to Philip about literature and art.In the afternoon, the weather becomes unbearably hot.People were not working as vigorously as they had been, and talking had stopped.The eloquent voice in the morning has now turned into incoherent chatter.Small beads of sweat stood on Sally's upper lip, and her mouth was slightly parted as she worked.She looked like a budding rosebud.

The closing time depends on the condition of the oven room.Sometimes the oven room fills up early.At three or four o'clock in the afternoon, if the hops picked are enough for drying that night, the horn will be blown to call it a day.However, under normal circumstances, the last measurement of the day does not start until five o'clock.After each group of collectors finished counting the hops, they started to pack their tools; when it was time to get off work, they chatted and wandered out of the pasture leisurely.The women hurried back to the hut, busy cleaning and preparing dinner, while many men walked towards the tavern together.After a day's work, drinking a glass of beer is indeed a great pleasure.

The hops of the Athelnys were the last to be weighed.When the measurer came towards them, Madame Athelny stood up with a sigh of relief, and stretched, for she had been a little stiff from sitting in the same position for hours. . "Well, let's go to the merry sailor," said Athelny. "Every day's etiquette is to be performed without fail. There is nothing more sacred than going to a tavern at this time." "Athelny, take a flagon," ordered his wife, "and bring back a pint and a half of beer, to drink at supper." After saying this, she counted copper coins one by one in Athelny's hand.The tavern was already full of people.In the shop, the sand-colored floor was surrounded by benches, and the walls were covered with yellowed portraits of Victorian professional boxers.The tavern owner, who could call out all the customers by name, was leaning over the counter with a broad smile on his face as he watched two young men looping hoops on two poles standing on the ground.Neither of them got caught, and the surrounding onlookers booed.People squeezed each other to make room for newcomers.Philip found himself sitting between two strangers, an elderly hired man in corduroy, with a thin rope tied below his knees, and a young boy of seventeen, gleaming with oil. A full face, a lock of curly hair lay flat on the red forehead.Athelny insisted on trying his luck and went to play rings.He bet on a half-pint of beer, which he won.Toasting the loser, he said:

"My boy, I'd rather win your half-pint of beer than the racer." Athelny, bearded and wearing a wide-brimmed hat, looked odd among these peasants, and it was not difficult to see from the expressions of the people around him that they all thought him eccentric.In spite of this, Athelny was full of enthusiasm and enthusiasm, and he had a certain appeal, which made everyone around him fall in love with him.People chatted freely, bantering each other in the rough, slow Tanet dialect, and laughing out loud when the local witty puns uttered their wits.What a rare and enjoyable gathering!Only a hard-hearted person would express dissatisfaction with these companions.Philip moved his eyes out of the window, only to see that the outside was still bright and full of sunshine.The window was like a cottage window, with a small curtain tied with a red ribbon.There are several pots of geraniums on the windowsill.After a while, these people who would enjoy the blessings left their seats one by one, and wandered back to the pasture, where every family was busy making dinner.

"I think you should be ready for bed," said Mrs. Athelny to Philip. "You're not used to being up at five in the morning and being out of doors all day." "Uncle Philip, you're going swimming with us, aren't you?" cried the children. "Of course!" He was tired physically, but cheerful in spirit.After dinner, he sat in a chair without a back, leaning against the wall of the hut, smoking a pipe, and gazing at the stars.Sally was busy, going in and out.He watched her work in an orderly manner with lazy eyes.Her gait caught his attention, not because her gait was particularly graceful, but because she even walked with such ease and composure.Relying on the strength of her hips, she swung her legs forward, her feet seemed to plant firmly on the ground.Athelny had slipped off to the neighbours' house to chatter, and at this moment Philip heard Mrs. Athelny chattering anonymously.

"Hey, the tea at home is out. I want Athelny to go to Mrs. Black's shop and buy some." After a while of silence, she raised her voice again: "Sally, hurry to Mrs. Black's shop." Buy me half a pound of tea, will you? I've run out of tea." "Okay, Mom." About half a mile down the road, Mrs. Blake owned a small house.She used the room as both the office of the postmaster and a haberdashery.Sally stepped out of the hut and rolled down her rolled-up sleeves. "Sally, may I go with you?" asked Philip. "Don't bother me. I'm not afraid to go alone."

"I didn't mean you were afraid. I'm going to bed soon. I just wanted to stretch my legs before going to bed." Sally said nothing.The two of them started to walk towards the shop.The main road is white and quiet.On a summer night, everything is silent.Neither of them said much. "It's still very hot, isn't it?" began Philip. "I think it's the best weather of the year." However, the two of them were silent and did not appear embarrassed.They felt that walking side by side was a pleasant thing in itself, so they felt no need to talk.When he came to the ladder hidden among the bushes planted as a hedge, there was a sudden murmur in his ear, and two figures appeared in the night.The two sat so close together that they did not move as Sally and Philip passed.

"Don't know who they are," said Sally. "They look happy, don't they?" "I think they see us as a couple too." They saw the light from the small shop in front of them, and after a while, the two walked into the small shop.For a moment, the bright lights made them unable to open their eyes. "You're late," said Mrs. Blake, "I was going to close," and she glanced at the clock. "Look, it's almost nine o'clock." Sally bought half a pound of tea (Mrs. Athelny never bought more than half a pound of tea), and they set off on their way home.Now and then I heard the short, high-pitched hiss of a nocturnal beast, but it only made the night seem extraordinarily still.

"I'm sure you can hear the sea when you stand still," said Sally. The two of them listened with pricked ears, and the imagination in their minds made them hear the faint sound of the fine waves lapping on the sand and stones.When they walked across the steps again, the lovers were still in place, but this time they stopped whispering and hugged each other, the man's lips pressed tightly against the woman's. "Looks like they're pretty busy," Sally said. They turned a corner, and for a moment a warm breeze brushed their cheeks.The mud exudes a fragrance.On this extremely sensitive night, there seemed to be something indescribable, something unspeakable, waiting for them in the distance.The silence suddenly became meaningful.Philip felt an indescribable emotion, which seemed very rich, almost melting (these banal words describe the strange feeling well).Philip felt cheerful, eager, and expectant.At this moment, Philip suddenly remembered the poems written by Jessica and Lorenzo.Each whispered to the other his own beautiful lines, by quoting lines; but the passion in both breasts shone brightly through ingenious fancies which both found amusing.He wondered what it was in the atmosphere that made his senses so unnaturally alert.To him he is the pure heart that enjoys the scents, sounds, and fragrances of the earth.He had never felt such an elegant aesthetic ability.He was really worried that Sally would break the silence by speaking, but she didn't say a word.He really wanted to hear the sound of her moistening throat.Her low, melodious voice was the very sound of the country night itself. Before they came to the meadow, where Sally was going to go through the gate to the hut.Philip went into the pasture and opened the gate for Sally. "Well, I think it's time I parted with you here." "Thank you for walking so far with me." Sally held out her hand to Philip, who, holding her hand, said: "If you mean it, you should kiss me good-bye like the rest of your family." "I don't care," she said. Philip was originally joking.He just wanted to kiss her, because it made him happy, he liked Sally, and besides, it was such a lovely night. "Good night," he said, and smiled slightly, pulling Sally closer to him.Sally lifted her warm, full, soft lips to him; he kissed them and held them for a moment, their lips parted like a flower.Then, out of nowhere, he threw his arms around her.Sally obeyed him silently.Sally's body was pressed tightly against his.He felt her heart close to his own.He was suddenly dizzy, and his emotions were like a flood that had broken through and submerged him.He drew Sally into the darker shadows of the bushes.