I replied that I was not quite sure, but suggested it might have been an accident.
“That’s kushti o’ tute, Rye,” she answered, and we turned to picking in earnest.
“Do you know,” she began again, “I made sure you were married, but you’re not, are you?”
I replied to this in the negative.
“And are you going to be?” she queried.
“No,” said I; “at least not until the right person comes my way.”
“Ain’t you never taken any one out?” she continued.
At this critical juncture the “pole puller” arrived, and with a “mind your heads!” sent down large sprays of hops into the basket and our conversation on such personal matters was not resumed, for a member of the Church Army Mission came around with hot tea in an urn which was conveyed along the lines in a perambulator. This solicitude on the part of the C.A. is greatly appreciated, the charge made for the tea being absurdly low. Cut cake was also dispensed by a lady worker at a similar “selling off” price.
After the brief tea and cake diversion we continued our picking.