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Wisconsin State Cranberry Growers Association / The Cranberry. A compendium of its cultivation, commerce, cookery, etc.
(1908)

McFarland, R. E.
Cranberry picking time,   pp. 13-14 PDF (376.9 KB)


Patterson
A cranberry idyl,   pp. 14-18 PDF (845.2 KB)


Page 14


The grass appears as beautiful as waves onl From thewaters overflow.
inland seas,                        I
Goldenrod and buttercups are nodding in the I And a place that needs the
work done
breeze.                              Does not escape your eye
It surely is a sight to see as on the tog we pass,For you say this water,
it Is precious,
Each berry try to hide itself beneath the moss I may need it by atd bye.
and grass,                                time in Jun     you plant your
vines
rhey act like timid people as if they were afraid:
When you bring them to the light blush like a
bashful maid.                        For the vines will not do well
All day long the pickers go               Unless they have the water level.
U ntil the bun is getting low;                think your marsh in proper
shape;
For wheT the grasus a sinks inthewestr         th  watr' ooer
inland~ ~  ~    ~        ~An a lcetatned hewrkdn
Goldenrod~~~~~~oe not escapel~ your eyedlg h
It~ ~ ~ ~ ~   ~   ~~~~~o youel         say thi water, it fes preciousg  e
Each~~~~~~~~~ mayr nee it byd atsl bye.hth ms
Besr and getyorprpe          evl
Whell~ ~ ~~~~~~~o the vines whll not doe wellbus ik
Sal ~ ~ ~ ~  ~   ~   ~   ~~Uls they have the waterr leel
Four whent the suti sinks in the west    Tf     l   c  ORtai
Theu nature hapls the time of rest.
The winl wood songetar clears its throat
And gives one last long iingering note
Ihat echoes sweet o'er dale and hill
'then setles down and all is gtial
The daily labors being done,
The boys and girls mnus have their fun.
Thedaiy lbosbei doY netiwtig
- 1- tilebowe  houCY Mhyten will go
And trip the light fantastic toe.
'Til the foreman comes at ten each night;
In a stern voice, put out tile light.,,
Each tired picker seeks their cot
And soon their troubles are all forgot.
They all say that it's boss;
When you find you have an enemy,
That everlasting moss;
And you say I       must get rid of that,
Just as quickly s I can,
Or else my neighbors all will say
That I am a "high water" man.
You watch the berries closely,
As they begin to form;
The 'W5LV  UJ5Lt nu l. 'u e " I'M cilU,
It must not be to warm;
_____           And you think they'll stand the season
A CRANBERRY IDYL.             And at last come out all right,
|If nothing further happens
(A poem composed by "Pitterson' a ditch
digger, and read at *the cranberry picnic last And they do not catch the
blight.
Puguat at the uaytor Blackstone marsh meet-
ing.)                                Some old fogie has said
When the snow all disappears         "A woman's work is never done,"
And the frost just leaves the ground,  That a man has got a snap--
The'season's work begins;            He only works from sun to sun-
So at it you are bound.              But there are men before me here today
Then you go and pet your sod hook    Will prove that I am right;
And your ditching knife, you know,   That when you run a cranberry marsh,
For the dams may need repairing      You are at It day and night.
,     I
I


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