You 've cleaved to your own parts pretty middlin ' close , Ralph . ' ` Ca n't shift an old tree ` thout it dyin ' , ' Hobden chuckled . ` An ' I be no more anxious to die than you look to be to help me with my hops tonight . ' The great man leaned against the brickwork of the roundel , and swung his arms abroad . ` Hire me ! ' was all he said , and they stumped upstairs laughing . The children heard their shovels rasp on the cloth where the yellow hops lie drying above the fires , and all the oast-house filled with the sweet , sleepy smell as they were turned . ` Who is it ? ' Una whispered to the Bee Boy . ` Dunno , no more 'n you -- if you dunno , ' said he , and smiled . The voices on the drying-floor talked and chuckled together , and the heavy footsteps moved back and forth . Presently a hop-pocket dropped through the press-hole overhead , and stiffened and fattened as they shovelled it full . ` Clank ! ' went the press , and rammed the loose stuff into tight cake . ` Gently ! ' they heard Hobden cry . ` You 'll bust her crop if you lay on so . You be as careless as Gleason 's bull , Tom . Come an ' sit by the fires . She 'll do now . '
They came down , and as XXXXX opened the shutter to see if the potatoes were done Tom Shoesmith said to the children , ` Put a plenty salt on 'em .
Boy Gleason Hobden Tom Una dunno dyin hop-pocket oast-house roundel