Boarding schools -- England -- Juvenile fiction; Girls -- England -- Juvenile fiction
Life began at the camp soon after 5 a.m., when the more energetic
spirits tumbled off their hay sacks, flung on dressing-gowns, and
scrambled for turns at the bath tent. Fetching water for the day was
the first business of the morning, and those on bucket duty trotted
off to the stream, two fields away, joking and making fun as they
went, but returning more soberly with the heavy pails. The 6.15
breakfast tasted delicious after their early outing, and most of the
workers seemed in good spirits. By seven o'clock the whole party were
down in the gardens. The Marlowe Grange girls had never seen
strawberries by the acre before, and they were amazed, almost daunted,
at the sight of the vast quantity of fruit that must be gathered. They
were told off to a certain portion of the field, given baskets, and
shown where to bring them when full. Each novice, for the first day,
was expected to work near an experienced hand, who could show her what
was required, as the picking, though quick, must be careful, so as not
to bruise the strawberries. Raymonde and Morvyth found themselves
under the wing of a Social Settlement secretary, a business-like dame
who had picked the previous summer, and understood the swiftest
methods. Close by, they could hear Miss Gibbs being instructed by the
lady journalist, with whom she had apparently cemented a friendship.
It was a point of honour to fill the baskets with the utmost possible
speed, and everybody worked steadily. There was no rule against eating
the fruit, but the pay was according to the number of baskets handed
in, so that shirkers would find themselves unable to earn their keep.
It was a rather back-breaking employment, but otherwise pleasant, for
the day was fine, the larks were singing, and wild roses and
honeysuckle bloomed in the hedgerows. The slum pickers at the other
side of the field toiled away with practised fingers. Many of them
came every year, and would return in September for the hop harvest.
The small children played under the hedge and took charge of the
babies, who cried and slept alternately, poor little souls! without
receiving much attention from the hardworking mothers.
The slum contingent was a subject of much amusement and curiosity to
the Marlowe Grange platoon. Though they occupied different portions of
the field, they would meet when they went to deliver baskets. The
rollicking good nature and repartees of some of these people,
especially of the gipsies, were often very funny. They would chaff the
agent who registered their scores, with a considerable power of
humour, and the Grange girls, waiting in line for their turns, would
chuckle as they overheard the conversations.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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