“Auvali, auvali” (yes, yes), I replied, smiling at his curious manner of expression, albeit the following passages flitted just then through my mind— ... “Which of these thinkest thou was neighbour?” ... “Neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit.” ... “Go thou and do likewise.” As an opportunity of the nature premised did not offer, my friend now demonstrated his genuineness by allowing me to use his van at any time for depositing photographic and other material which I should otherwise be obliged to carry about with me until I returned to my tent later in the day. Moreover, I had a seat at his fireside and he was a most gentlemanly host. I had many friends in the gardens and did not wish to appear to be oblivious of any of them by putting in all the time I felt inclined to devote to picking for one basket, thereupon at the words, “Auv acoi, miro Rye,” addressed to me by a Romany girl some little distance away, I considered it both advisable and polite to accede to her request, and give a hand at the basket into which she was picking. I will not inflict upon the reader our conversation in Romany and English verbatim, but give it done into more solid English:— “Well, Rye, when you left us at —— fair I never thought I should see you again. Can you pick hops?” This was obviously a subterfuge for opening the conversation, as she had seen me helping to fill other baskets, therefore I could but answer in the affirmative. [Illustration: “IT’S A MERRY LIFE AND PLENTY OF FUN.”] “Then you might give us a hand.” Scarcely had she said this when my hat (fortunately a soft felt) was crushed down over my eyes, for the girl had pulled down the next bine and a mass had fallen on my head. It is true she had warned me by saying, “Mind your head!” but had not given me time to get out of the way. “There!” she exclaimed, laughing, “I didn’t do that on purpose, did I?” I replied that I was not quite sure, but suggested it might have been an accident. “That’s kushti o’ tute, Rye,” she answered, and we turned to picking in earnest. “Do you know,” she began again, “I made sure you were married, but you’re not, are you?” I replied to this in the negative. “And are you going to be?” she queried. “No,” said I; “at least not until the right person comes my way.” “Ain’t you never taken any one out?” she continued. At this critical juncture the “pole puller” arrived, and with a “mind your heads!” sent down large sprays of hops into the basket and our conversation on such personal matters was not resumed, for a member of the Church Army Mission came around with hot tea in an urn which was conveyed along the lines in a perambulator. This solicitude on the part of the C.A. is greatly appreciated, the charge made for the tea being absurdly low. Cut cake was also dispensed by a lady worker at a similar “selling off” price. After the brief tea and cake diversion we continued our picking.