Page:American Journal of Sociology Volume 15.djvu/103

 WITH OREGON HOP PICKERS 89

when clothed in the lingo of the pulpit. And then they couldn't see the whole show for the speaker was in front of the can- vas. People in my neighborhood swore and laughed and yelled, but to no avail. When I suggested that some of us tell the min- ister to move, this was followed by a heated discussion which ended in a challenge to me. They were of one accord that "I dassen't do it." This acted as a spur and she of the blue calico wrapper and checked apron yelled out, "Get over to one side, please." The speaker fairly leaped over and the daring one was congratulated by such terms as these: "Gee, you're smarter than you look," "You kin have me for the askin'," "I'll weigh your hops heavy tomorrow;" this and more from the men; from the women around me, one and all, "Weren't you scared?" in awe- struck tones, and I said "Yes."

It was a hard audience for any speaker to satisfy but there was a remarkable opportunity for a man of power who could for- get that he was a clergyman and only remember that he was a human being with a message to other human beings. Well-fed and well-dressed citizens, I notice, hear without outward sign of distress the platitudes that too often go with clerical trappings, but not so the brothers and sisters of the wage-earning class. They know a good story when they hear it and they know a good show when they see it, and they hate to be "done."

We couldn't sleep much that night for men were drinking and carousing until nearly morning and at four the first eager pickers were astir. For the real work was to begin on Monday in spite of the fact that it was Labor Day. There was so much preliminary arranging to be done, that it was nine o'clock before we were finally started for our yards. But the mere picking was not of so much importance to me. I wanted to learn about the living conditions so far as young women were concerned, and I was learning of those all the time. However, it was a de- light to see the various companies form and march oflf to victory, for everyone expected to make a lot of money — from three to seven dollars a day, I was told when I engaged work in Port- land.

A hop field is a beautiful sight with its harvest of blossoms