Читать книгу Lost Voices of the Edwardians: 1901–1910 in Their Own Words - Max Arthur, Max Arthur - Страница 171

We used to go hop picking in Kent. Mostly it was people from South London. The farmer was called Hawthorn, and every year he sent a letter and paid for our fare down, otherwise we wouldn't have gone. He used to send the train tickets because he didn't trust us with the money. Because, frankly speaking, nobody was honest. When we got there, we all used to sleep with our clothes on in a great big barn – about thirty or forty of us. We children were a priceless asset because we were very quick at picking. We used to bung the whole lot in the bins, anything we could get hold of.