And there was a roar of laughter in the field at her words, for Miss Crutch was a single woman.
“Yer pore mother wouldn’t be pleased to ’ear ye speak so, anyway,” remarked the spinster severely.
“You leave my mother alone,” retorted ’Melia, with one of those quick flashes from her bright eyes. “She knowed her way about, anyway.”
Another laugh around, but Miss Crutch said sourly, “Ay, pore soul, much of a way she cut out for herself! A widder in the prime o’ life wi’ a pack of ungrateful children to moil and slave for. No wonder she be broke and old afore her time.”
“Who says as they be ungrateful?” said ’Melia.
“Them as sees the oldest on ’em racin’ round to please ’erself instead of ’elpin’ her,” retorted the old maid.
“Well, she don’t want your ’elp to mind ’em anyway,” giggled the girl, turning to empty her pocketful of hops into the bin and meeting as she did so the grave eyes of a thick-set man of quiet aspect who was lifting fresh poles for the pickers.
She lowered her own that were not in the habit of falling before any one’s gaze, and her laugh was less confident as she added: “There’s earnin’ as well as elpin’, ye see.”
“Oh, I say, ’ow much o’ your earnin’s gone ’ome, eh, ’Melia?” sneered a fat girl hard by; but her mouth was stopped by a young fellow who brushed past her quickly, and, stooping over ’Melia, pulled a hop-pole out of the ground for her that was trying even her strength, and laid it across for her ready to pick. The elder man, who was going on steadily with his own work, smiled a little, and the girl who had spoken cried out, “Lor! it ain’t every one of us gets that done for us!”
’Melia looked a little conscious as she said, "Ye ’adn’t no call to do it, thank ye, Mr. Farr. Mr. Wilkins ’ere"—nodding towards the other man—“lays ’em ready for us.”