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A call-off by the sounding of a horn was made for break-
fast at eight, and though Mrs. Athelny told them they had
not deserved it, they ate it very heartily. They set to work
again and worked till twelve, when the horn sounded once
more for dinner. At intervals the measurer went his round
from bin to bin, accompanied by the booker, who entered
first in his own book and then in the hopper’s the number
of bushels picked. As each bin was filled it was measured
out in bushel baskets into a huge bag called a poke; and
this the measurer and the pole-puller carried off between
them and put on the waggon. Athelny came back now and
then with stories of how much Mrs. Heath or Mrs. Jones
had picked, and he conjured his family to beat her: he was
always wanting to make records, and sometimes in his en-
thusiasm picked steadily for an hour. His chief amusement
in it, however, was that it showed the beauty of his graceful
hands, of which he was excessively proud. He spent much
time manicuring them. He told Philip, as he stretched out
his tapering fingers, that the Spanish grandees had always
slept in oiled gloves to preserve their whiteness. The hand
that wrung the throat of Europe, he remarked dramatically,
was as shapely and exquisite as a woman’s; and he looked at
his own, as he delicately picked the hops, and sighed with
self-satisfaction. When he grew tired of this he rolled him-
self a cigarette and discoursed to Philip of art and literature.
In the afternoon it grew very hot. Work did not proceed
so actively and conversation halted. The incessant chatter
of the morning dwindled now to desultory remarks. Tiny
beads of sweat stood on Sally’s upper lip, and as she worked

Of Human Bondage