72 A KENTISH PARISH 



they are said to balance their budgets by simply putting 

 a weaker infusion into their vats. Be that as it may, 

 and whatever be the position of the growers, the hops 

 are still the blessing of the gatherers. Go through a 

 Kentish parish in the hopping time, and the roads and 

 the dwellings are alike deserted. Each cottage door is 

 carefully secured, and neither for love nor money will 

 you find a soul to deliver a message or do an odd bit of 

 work. Every man, woman, and child, from failing age to 

 helpless infancy, is about and busy in the gardens. The 

 bedridden have to do the best they can ; and even the 

 dying, should they choose to be lingering perversely, 

 may be left to smooth their pillows for themselves. 

 Only the other day we heard a story very much to the 

 point. A friend's bailiff was riding quietly across the 

 chart, when he pulled up to a feeble appeal from a 

 solitary cottage. A poor woman had dragged herself 

 to the window, and was supporting herself with an 

 effort against the sill. She had known that morning 

 that she was on the eve of her confinement, but neither 

 relations nor friends could be prevailed upon to stay by 

 her ; and now, having been taken in labour for we 

 cannot say she was surprised she addressed herself to 

 the bailiff as a family man, and implored him in charity 

 to send some one to her assistance. Each family goes 

 forth with the infants packed in perambulators, and 

 gathers round its separate bin. The result of the day's 

 picking is weighed and paid for by the measure. For 

 once the smaller children in an overflowing household 

 are made profitable, since each may clear a couple of 



