Page 976 - of-human-bondage-

her lips were slightly parted. She was like a rosebud burst-
ing into flower.
Calling-off time depended on the state of the oast-house.
Sometimes it was filled early, and as many hops had been
picked by three or four as could be dried during the night.
Then work was stopped. But generally the last measuring
of the day began at five. As each company had its bin mea-
sured it gathered up its things and, chatting again now that
work was over, sauntered out of the garden. The women
went back to the huts to clean up and prepare the supper,
while a good many of the men strolled down the road to
the public-house. A glass of beer was very pleasant after the
day’s work.
The Athelnys’ bin was the last to be dealt with. When the
measurer came Mrs. Athelny, with a sigh of relief, stood up
and stretched her arms: she had been sitting in the same po-
sition for many hours and was stiff.
‘Now, let’s go to The Jolly Sailor,’ said Athelny. ‘The rites
of the day must be duly performed, and there is none more
sacred than that.’
‘Take a jug with you, Athelny,’ said his wife, ‘and bring
back a pint and a half for supper.’
She gave him the money, copper by copper. The bar-par-
lour was already well filled. It had a sanded floor, benches
round it, and yellow pictures of Victorian prize-fighters on
the walls. The licencee knew all his customers by name, and
he leaned over his bar smiling benignly at two young men
who were throwing rings on a stick that stood up from the
floor: their failure was greeted with a good deal of hearty