"Peas!" Rose-Ellen exploded the word on their last night in the "jungle" camp. "I don't believe there are enough folks in the world to cat all the peas we've picked."
"And they aren't done with when they're picked, even," added Daddy. "Most of them will be canned; and other folks have to shell and sort them and put them into cans and then cook them and seal and label the cans."
"What an awful lot of work everything makes," Dick exclaimed.
"It was different in my Gramma's time." Grandma pursed her lips as she set a white patch in a blue overall knee. "Then each family grew and canned and made almost everything it used."
"Now everybody's linked up with everybody else," agreed Grandpa, cobbling a shoe with his little kit1. "We use' to get along in winter with turnips2 and cabbage and such, and fruit the womenfolks canned. Of course it's pretty nice to have garden vegetables and fruit fresh the year round, but. . . ."
Grandma squinted3 suddenly over her spectacles. "For the land's sakes! I never thought of it, but it's turned the country upside down and made a million people into 'rubber tramps'--this having to have fresh green stuff in winter."
"The owners couldn't handle their crops without the million workers coming in just when they're ready to harvest," Daddy continued the tale. . . .
"But they haven't anything for us to do the rest of the time; and how they do hate the sight of us 'rubber tramps,' the minute we've finished doing their work for them," Dick ended.
Next morning they started up the coast to pick lettuce4. The country was beautiful. Rounded hills, soft looking and of the brightest green, ran down toward the sea, with really white sheep pastured on them. Grandpa said it put him in mind of heaven. Grandma said it would be heaven-on-earth to live there, if only you had a decent little house and a garden. The desert places were as beautiful, abloom with many-colored wildflowers; and there were fields of artichokes and other vegetables, with Chinese and Japanese tending them. Those clean green rows stretched on endlessly.
"They make me feel funny," Rose-Ellen complained, "like seeing too many folks and too many stars."
"They've got so many vegetables they dump them into the sea, because if they put them all on the market, the price would go down. But there's not enough so that those that pick them get what they need to eat," said Grandpa. "Sometimes too much is not enough."
The lettuce camp housed part of its workers in a huge old barn. The Beechams had three stalls and used their tent for curtains. They cooked out in the barnyard, so it was fortunate that it was the dry season. From May to August the men and Dick picked, trimmed, packed lettuce; but during most of that time the barn-apartment was in quarantine. All the children who had not had scarlet5 fever came down with it.
It was even hotter than midsummer Philadelphia, and the air was sticky, and black with flies besides, and sickening with odor. Grandma's cushiony pinkness entirely6 disappeared; she was more the color of a paper-bag, Rose-Ellen thought.
"But land knows," Grandma said, "what I'd have done if the Lord hadn't tempered the wind to the shorn lamb. What with no Center near here and only the public health nurse looking in once in a while, it was lucky the young-ones didn't have the fever bad."
In August they were all well and peeled. Grandma heated tub after tub of water and scrubbed them, hair and all, with yellow laundry soap, and washed their clothes and put the automobile-seat beds into the hot sun. Then they went on up the coast, steering7 for the hopyards northeast of San Francisco.
It seemed too bad to hurry through San Francisco without really seeing it--that beautiful city crowded steeply by the sea. But the Reo had had to have a new gas-line and a battery, and little money was left to show for the long, sizzling months of work. It was best to stay clear of cities.
The Sacramento Delta9 region was the strangest the Beechams had ever seen. The broad river, refreshing10 after months without real rivers, was higher than the fields. Beside the river ran the highway. The Beechams looked down at pear orchards11, tule marshes12 and ranch13 houses. Everything was so lushly wet that moss14 grew green even on tree trunks and roofs. Like Holland, Daddy said, it had dikes to keep the water out.
One day they stopped at a fish cannery between highway and river and asked for work. The Reo was having to have her tires patched twice a day, and slow leaks were blown up every time the car stopped for gasoline. The family needed money.
Peering into the cannery, they saw men and women working in a strong-smelling steam, cleaning and cutting up the fish that passed them on an endless belt, making it ready for others to pack in cans. At the feet of some of the women stood boxes with babies in them; and other babies were slung15 in cloths on their mothers' backs.
There was no work for the Beechams, and they climbed into the Reo once more and stared down on the other side of the road, where the foreman had told them his packers lived. Even from that distance it was plain that this was a Chinese village, not American at all.
"The little babies were so sweet, with their shiny black eyes. But, my gracious, they don't get any sun or air at all!" Rose-Ellen squeezed Sally thankfully. Even though the baby was underweight and had violet shadows under her blue eyes, she looked healthier than most babies they saw.
The hops16 were queer and interesting, unlike any other crops Rose-Ellen had met with. The leaves were deep-lobed, shaped a little like woodbine, but rough to touch. The fruits resembled small spruce cones17 of pale yellow-green tissue paper. The vines were trained on wires strung along ten-foot poles; they formed aisles18 that were heavy with drowsy19 fragrance20.
The picking baskets stood almost as high as Rose-Ellen's shoulder, and she and Dick were proud of filling one apiece, the first day they worked. These baskets held sixty pounds each--more when the weather was not so dry--and sixty pounds meant ninety cents. School had not started yet, so the children worked all day. Sometimes Rose-Ellen could not keep from crying, she was so tired. And when she cried, Grandma's mouth worked over her store teeth in the way that meant she felt bad.
"But we've got to get in under it, all of us," she scolded, to keep from crying herself. "We've got to earn what we can. I never see the beat of it. If we scrabble as hard as we can, we just only keep from sliding backwards21."
Here in the hopyards the Beechams did not get their pay in money. They were given tickets marked with the amount due them. These they could use for money at the company store.
"And the prices there are sky-high!" Grandma wrathfully told Grandpa, waving a pound of coffee before his eyes. "Thirty-five cents, and not the best grade, mind you! Pink salmon22 higher than red ought to be. Bread fifteen cents a loaf! Milk sky-high and Carrie plumb23 dry!"
The living quarters were bad, too: shacks25, with free straw on the floor for beds, and mud deep in the dooryards where the campers emptied water. Over it all hung a sick smell of garbage and a cloud of flies.
It was no wonder that scores of children and some older people were sick. The public health nurses, when they came to visit the sick ones, warned the women to cover food and garbage, but most of the women laughed at the advice.
"Those doctor always tell us things," the Beechams' Italian neighbor, Mrs. Serafini, said lightly. She was dandling a sad baby while the sad baby sucked a disk of salami, heavy with spices. "And those nurse also are crazy. Back in asparagus I send-it my kids to the Center, and what you think? They take off Pepe's clothes! They say it is not healthy that she wear the swaddlings. I tell Angelina to say to them that my madre before me was dressed so; but again they strip the poor angel."
"And what did you do then?" Rose-Ellen inquired.
"No more did I send-it my kids to the Center!" Mrs. Serafini cried dramatically.
"I'd think myself," Grandma observed dryly, "your baby might feel better in such hot weather if she was dressed more like Sally."
Mrs. Serafini eyed Sally's short crepe dress, worn over a single flour-sack undergarment. "We have-it our ways, you have-it yours," was all she would say.
While the elders talked, Jimmie had been staring at Pepe's next brother, Pedro. Seven years old, Pedro might have been, but he could move about only by sitting on the ground and hitching26 himself along. He was crippled much worse than Jimmie.
"I wonder, couldn't I show Pedro my scrapbook?" he whispered, nudging Grandma.
"To be sure; and I always said if you'd think more about others, you wouldn't be so sorry for yourself," Grandma replied.
Jimmie scowled27 at the sermon, but he went in and got his books, and the two boys sat up against the shack24 wall till dark, Jimmie telling stories to match the pictures. It was a week before they could repeat that pleasant hour. Next day both were ill with the fever that was sweeping28 the hop8 camp.
Next time the nurses came they had medicines and suggestions for Grandma. They liked her, and looked smilingly at the clock and approvingly at Carrie and at the covered garbage can and at the food draped with mosquito netting.
"We're going to have to enforce those rules," they told Grandma. "There wouldn't be half the sickness if everyone minded as you do."
That evening people from all parts of the camp gathered to discuss the renewed orders: Italians, Mexicans, Americans, Indians.
"They says to my mother," a little Indian girl confided29 to Rose-Ellen, "'You no cover up your grub, we throw him out!'" She laughed into her hands as if it were a great joke.
"They do nothing but talk," said Angelina.
Next day the camp had a surprise. Along came the nurses and men with badges to help them. Into shack after shack they went, inspecting the food supplies. Rose-Ellen, staying home with sick Jimmie, watched a nurse trot30 out of the Serafini shack, carrying long loaves of bread and loops of sausage, alive with flies, while Mrs. Serafini shouted wrathfully after her. Into the garbage pail popped the bread and sausage and back to the shack trotted31 the nurse for more.
That night the camp buzzed like a swarm32 of angry bees, with threats of what the pickers would do to "them fresh nurses."
Grandpa, resting on his doorsill, said, "You just keep cool. They got the law on their side; we couldn't do a thing. Besides, if you'll hold your horses long enough to see this out, you may find they're doing you a big kindness."
The people went on grumbling33, but they covered their food, since they must do so or lose it. And they had to admit that there was much less sickness from that time on.
"Foolishness!" Mrs. Serafini persisted, unwilling34 to give in.
Yet Rose-Ellen, playing with Baby Pepe, discovered that her hot old swaddlings had been taken off at last. Perhaps Mrs. Serafini was learning something from the nurses after all.
"If you could show me the rest of my aflabet, Rose-Ellen," Jimmie begged, "I could teach Pedro."
"But, goodness!" Rose-Ellen exclaimed. "You never would let us teach you anything, Jimmie. What's happened to you?"
"Well, it's different. I got to keep ahead of Pedro," he explained, and every night he learned a new lesson.
Of all the family, though, Jimmie was the only contented35 one. Most of the trouble centered round Dick. He was fourteen now, and not only his voice, but his way, was changing. Through the day he picked hops, but when evening came, he was off and away.
"He's like the Irishman's flea," Grandma scolded, "and that gang he's running with are young scalawags."
"Dick hasn't a lick of sense," Daddy agreed worriedly. "I'll have to tan him, if he keeps on lighting36 out every night. That gang set fire to a hop rack last week. They'll be getting into real trouble."
"Dick thinks he's a man, now he's earning his share of the living," Grandpa reminded them. "When I was his age I had chores to keep me busy, and when you were his age you had gym, and the Y swimming pool. Here there's nothing for the kids in the evening except mischief37."
"Well, then," Grandma suggested, "why don't we pull up stakes and leave?"
"They don't like you to leave till harvest's over," Daddy said. "But it would be great to get into apples in Washington, for instance. We'll have to get the boss to cash our pay tickets first."
There came the trouble. The tickets would be cashed when harvest was done, not before. Grandma sagged38 when she heard. "I ain't sick," she said, "but I'm played out. If we could get where it was cooler and cleaner. . . ."
"Well, we haven't such a lot of pay checks left." Grandpa looked at her anxiously. "Looks like, with prices at the company store so high, if we stayed another month we'd owe them instead of them owing us. We might cash our tickets in groceries and hop along."
"Hop along is right," agreed Daddy. "Those tires were a poor buy. We haven't money for tires and gas both."
"We'll go as fast as we can, and maybe we can get there before the tires bust," said Grandpa, trying to be gay.
Jimmie didn't try. "I liked it here," he mumbled39. "I bet Pedro'll cry if we go away. He can print his first name now, but how's he ever going to learn 'Serafini'?"
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收听单词发音
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1
kit
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| n.用具包，成套工具；随身携带物 | |
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2
turnips
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| 芜青( turnip的名词复数 )； 芜菁块根； 芜菁甘蓝块根； 怀表 | |
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3
squinted
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| 斜视( squint的过去式和过去分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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4
lettuce
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| n.莴苣；生菜 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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6
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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7
steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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8
hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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9
delta
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| n.（流的）角洲 | |
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refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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11
orchards
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| （通常指围起来的）果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
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marshes
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| n.沼泽，湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
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ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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14
moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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15
slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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16
hops
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| 跳上[下]( hop的第三人称单数 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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17
cones
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| n.（人眼）圆锥细胞；圆锥体( cone的名词复数 )；球果；圆锥形东西；（盛冰淇淋的）锥形蛋卷筒 | |
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18
aisles
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| n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
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19
drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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20
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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21
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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salmon
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| n.鲑，大马哈鱼，橙红色的 | |
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plumb
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| adv.精确地，完全地；v.了解意义，测水深 | |
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24
shack
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| adj.简陋的小屋，窝棚 | |
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shacks
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| n.窝棚，简陋的小屋( shack的名词复数 ) | |
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26
hitching
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| 搭乘； （免费）搭乘他人之车( hitch的现在分词 )； 搭便车； 攀上； 跃上 | |
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27
scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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29
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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30
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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31
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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32
swarm
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| n.(昆虫)等一大群；vi.成群飞舞；蜂拥而入 | |
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33
grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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34
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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35
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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36
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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37
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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38
sagged
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| 下垂的 | |
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39
mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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