A •SUMMER HOLIDAY IN WAR TIME.
[To TEE EMT= Or TRH "SPECTATOR,") S1R,—Among the unaccustomed occupations which this summer has brought with it,a privileged few, mainly University women students and town-dwellers, have had the experience of a holiday for mind and spirit which will henceforth threaten to rival the joys of the ordinary summer holiday, of picnics, golf, &o., even when, with the return of peace, these have lost their present air of futility. That it has been accidentally confined to a few is due mainly. to lack of organization in our agricultural system, and that stolid inertia in the face of new departures which delays all authoritative effort until the need of adaptation becomes unbearably acute. Even the writer's small experience during a summer vacation is enough to show that hundreds of leisured women were only longing for the opportunity of doing some work on the land, and that there is no inherent difficulty in the organiza- tion of such work beyond that of the acceptance of the idea by the farmer and the means of inducing him to communicate his needs to the Board of Trade or Labour Exchange of the district.
Early in July a small party of workers set out for fruit- picking in the Midlands, and found accommodation provided for them in the form of well-fitted caravans, supplemented by tents in a large paddock adjoining a country house, under the shade of a row of great elms. Armed with a few necessary utensils, they soon felt fully established. They shared the paddock with a picturesque herd of calves, two or three peacocks, and some owls, whose cry at night was at first indis- tinguishable from that of the peacocks. The calves were particularly neighbourly. The earliest sounds in the morning ----erhaps about 4 a.m.—were a gentle shuffle and swish in the grass, followed by a light rocking of the caravan, which betokened their interest in our outside larder. This was in general safely out of their reach, though occasionally they carried off a prize or enjoyed a forgotten pail of water before a wild shriek or " Shoo !" from one of the tent sleepers scattered them headlong to other quarters. Thanks to such early morning experiences, our caravan received the name of isaSoOkeruxos 'Hofis. Between 5 and 6 a.m. most of the party were out in the strawberry and raspberry fields on a slope commanding a wide view of the Cotswolds. It was perhaps
the most exhilarating feeling of the day—to think of the slug-a-beds who were missing its freshness and the delicious warmth of the sun as it spread through the wet leaves. There was also the rivalry of seeing how many six-pound baskets could be picked before breakfast, or before the first cartload was driven off to the jam factory. Preparations for breakfast followed on the part of one or two members—a wrestle with
the wood fire either in the caravan, or, if we had into the spared a thunderstorm the day before, in the open, initiation nto the making of porridge or the frying of mushrooms, and then an inroad of hungry and dishevelled workers. After gathering sticks, rolling up bunks, &o., we returned to the
field to find it now dotted with the sun-bonnets of the village women who turned out to help, and enlivened sometimes with
the songs of a band of workers from a town factory, or by the discussion of vague reports of news, for the newspapers themselves seemed to fail us unaccountably. After a mid- day dinner came a good rest, fiat on one's back under an tipple-tree, or, for the more active, a feverish despatch of postcards explaining that the necessities of life allowed no time for letters; then one more spell of work among the raspberries, where the fruit could often be gathered as one sat comfortably on an upturned sieve. By the time supper was cooked and disposed of it was sunset and bedtime, and though a few were haunted by visions of luscious raspberries shining among thickets of green leaves, for others it was a dreamless sleep that defied the rattle of a storm on the roof. Even the occasional depression of soaking rain in the afternoon was redeemed by the possibilities afforded of turning out a batch of jam on the little cooking-stove, or an experiment in the making of scones. After 10 a.m. on Saturdays all work was suspended, and there were then opportunities for exploring the country.
In August the programme promised to be a varied one- plum-picking, help in the harvest-field, possibly in rick- building for the strongest, leading horses, or driving cows and sheep, or often adventurous journeys to a neighbouring village.
A little later the writer had the contrast of a short stay in an inland village of Sussex thickly populated with visitors, on whose hands time seemed now and then to hang a little heavily, at least while they watched a belated hay and corn harvest being slowly gathered by a few old men, who had no time then to shoot the rabbits and game which they were generally securing at that season. With the opening of September a few days' work has been .found on a beautifully situated Sussex farm, comprising many acres of apples and potatoes, which, the owner announced, would for the most part be left to rot ungathered, since under present conditions of labour the 'apples were to him financially "no better than so many solidified bales of dirt hanging on the trees." By dint of procuring orders for this orop and urging our services it may yet be saved for consumption, while it again offers to two or three a short spell of out-of-door life, free of expense in a comfortable cottage, such as many have sought in vain. It is greatly to be hoped that the Committee appointed under Lord Selborne's Commission may be successful in utilizing next year for the comparatively unskilled labour of the summer harvest the services of women of the more leisured class rather than those of the already overburdened cottager or of boys who should be at school. If so, they will not only be increasing the national supplies, but will earn the gratitude of those who appreciate as a new and fortifying experience the real life of a countrywoman.—I am, Sir, &c.,
URBANA.
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