Across the Fruited Plain

th odd jobs till spring came and they could move on to steadier wo

and milk so long we're getting the color of mush o

ands of the auto last till we get

blossoming yellow trees and yuccas like wax candles an

, and Jimmie said it tickled his stomach to look down on the tops of other automobiles, traveling the loop of road below them. Even Carr

flat on the plain with a blue mountain wall to its west; on through

ge for beetworkers on the Lukes fiel

, crumbling off a piece of m

in Egypt," said Grandpa; "only Pharao

cat in a strange garret here. And not a smidgin of shade. T

Ellen as they walked over to it. "Gra

r to clean than some places where huma

keeping," as Rose-Ellen called it, before the last of May, when beet work began. They made a pretty cheerful place of this new home; though, of course, it had no floor and no window g

for the twenty acres they were to work. Mr. Lukes said that children under sixteen were not supposed to be employed

st of May and finishing in October, and the pay would be twenty-six dollars an acr

dollars sounds like rea

we're lucky to feed seven hungry folks on sixty dollars a month. And we're wal

is three hundred,"

than enough to get us on to the n

, Grandma saw to it that there was no fire in the old-new washtub stove, and that Sally's knitted st

led hoes the grown people chopped out foot-long strips of plants. Dick and Rose-Ellen followed on hands and

ged dress clung to her, wet with sweat, and her arms and face prickled with

cottonwood awhile," she said.

es at the floating clouds shining in the sun. Jimmie hobbled around her, driving Sally with her knitted reins, but they did n

to the skyline. It made her ache to think that five Beechams must take out these e

was too late to keep their faces from blistering. All the Beechams but Grandma wore overalls. She couldn't bring hers

e beans and put them to soak,"

f straw. She ought to offer to get up and look over

nd such. But we're getting like all the rest of them, buying the groceries that we can fix easiest, even though they

he end of the season. So they went on buying there, even though its prices were high

time they were more used to the work; and in July came a rest time, when all they needed to do was to turn the waters of the big ditch into the little ditche

night; otherwise the evenings were a delight. Colorado sunsets covered the west with glory, and then came quick coolness. Dry as it was, the cottonwood leaves made a sound lik

e mud and haven't any shade," Rose-Ellen told Grandma. "Th

with Nico Martinez, next door to the Garcias', and her brothers. Even when they all picked beans i

five ways for Christmas, and fingernails in mourning and the manners of a heathen. I'm afraid

ezes," Rose-Ellen objected. "Gramma, y

her balancing on her stomach on the bank of the ditch. Three years old, she was, and slim and straight, with enormous eyes and a great tangle of sunburned brown curl

dened at sight of the two-roomed Garcia house. Ten people lived and slept, at

id the bottoms of the pans weren't scoured, but she couldn't feel to blame Mrs. Martinez, with five young ones bes

frequent swallows of water. They were made of tidily rolled tortillas (Mexican corn-cakes, paper-thin), stuffed with

he Dutch oven Grandpa had bought her. Gran

o's dressed-up daintiness when she called for them. Grandma said she was perfect, from the ribbon bows on her shining hair to the socks that matched her smart pri

ng she wanted was in his room and everything he wanted in hers. Their small belongings had to be packed in boxes, and all the boxes emptied out to find t

" Grandma admitted grudgingly, "ke

nyone I liked much better than Nico. And the Mexicans are the very best in a

at 'em nice?"

"But outside school they act like even

paused to look over the neat picket fence of the yard next the church. It seemed a sweet little yard, smelling of newly cut gr

iss so pretty

the vines is a chicken in

ips over a giggle, for

bush. The lady of the house was gathering fl

he warned. "Are you the o

se-Ellen, burying her

oman said gently. "You come play on the grass s

ome, too?" Rose-Ellen asked

ente with cold eyes. "I can't as

ey were out of sight down the road, she threw the

Vicente looked at her with wise deep eyes. "I could 'a' told you," she said, sh

nver for school. The Garcias stayed; their children would go into the special room when they re

te regretted one day, "even with specials room. Early ou

loose by machine. Rose-Ellen could not believe they were beets-grea

cross the arm, and then, with a slash or two, freed of its top. The children f

; and Joe boasted that he was faster than his f

ding it on your knee like you do!" Gra

kids does." The beet tops fell

they were made into shining white beet sugar. ("And that's another thing I never ev

the harvest moon shone big and red at the skyline, across miles of rolling farmland; crickets fiddled sleepily and long-tailed m