I wonder, is the Medicine Man of the North American Indians never to be got rid of, out of the North American country? He comes into my Wigwam on all manner of occasions, and with the absurdest ‘Medicine.’ I always find it extremely difficult, and I often find it simply impossible, to keep him out of my Wigwam. For his legal ‘Medicine’ he sticks upon his head the hair of quadrupeds, and plasters the same with fat, and dirty white powder, and talks a gibberish quite unknown to the men and squaws of his tribe. For his religious ‘Medicine’ he puts on puffy white sleeves, little black aprons3, large black waistcoats of a peculiar5 cut, collarless coats with Medicine button-holes, Medicine stockings and gaiters and shoes, and tops the whole with a highly grotesque6 Medicinal hat. In one respect, to be sure, I am quite free from him. On occasions when the Medicine Men in general, together with a large number of the miscellaneous inhabitants of his village, both male and female, are presented to the principal Chief, his native ‘Medicine’ is a comical mixture of old odds7 and ends (hired of traders) and new things in antiquated8 shapes, and pieces of red cloth (of which he is particularly fond), and white and red and blue paint for the face. The irrationality9 of this particular Medicine culminates10 in a mock battle-rush, from which many of the squaws are borne out, much dilapidated. I need not observe how unlike this is to a Drawing Room at St. James’s Palace.
The African magician I find it very difficult to exclude from my Wigwam too. This creature takes cases of death and mourning under his supervision11, and will frequently impoverish12 a whole family by his preposterous13 enchantments14. He is a great eater and drinker, and always conceals15 a rejoicing stomach under a grieving exterior16. His charms consist of an infinite quantity of worthless scraps17, for which he charges very high. He impresses on the poor bereaved18 natives, that the more of his followers19 they pay to exhibit such scraps on their persons for an hour or two (though they never saw the deceased in their lives, and are put in high spirits by his decease), the more honourably20 and piously21 they grieve for the dead. The poor people submitting themselves to this conjurer, an expensive procession is formed, in which bits of stick, feathers of birds, and a quantity of other unmeaning objects besmeared with black paint, are carried in a certain ghastly order of which no one understands the meaning, if it ever had any, to the brink22 of the grave, and are then brought back again.
In the Tonga Islands everything is supposed to have a soul, so that when a hatchet23 is irreparably broken, they say, ‘His immortal24 part has departed; he is gone to the happy hunting-plains.’ This belief leads to the logical sequence that when a man is buried, some of his eating and drinking vessels25, and some of his warlike implements26, must be broken and buried with him. Superstitious27 and wrong, but surely a more respectable superstition28 than the hire of antic scraps for a show that has no meaning based on any sincere belief.
Let me halt on my Uncommercial road, to throw a passing glance on some funeral solemnities that I have seen where North American Indians, African Magicians, and Tonga Islanders, are supposed not to be.
Once, I dwelt in an Italian city, where there dwelt with me for a while, an Englishman of an amiable29 nature, great enthusiasm, and no discretion30. This friend discovered a desolate31 stranger, mourning over the unexpected death of one very dear to him, in a solitary32 cottage among the vineyards of an outlying village. The circumstances of the bereavement33 were unusually distressing34; and the survivor35, new to the peasants and the country, sorely needed help, being alone with the remains36. With some difficulty, but with the strong influence of a purpose at once gentle, disinterested37, and determined38, my friend — Mr. Kindheart — obtained access to the mourner, and undertook to arrange the burial.
There was a small Protestant cemetery39 near the city walls, and as Mr. Kindheart came back to me, he turned into it and chose the spot. He was always highly flushed when rendering40 a service unaided, and I knew that to make him happy I must keep aloof41 from his ministration. But when at dinner he warmed with the good action of the day, and conceived the brilliant idea of comforting the mourner with ‘an English funeral,’ I ventured to intimate that I thought that institution, which was not absolutely sublime42 at home, might prove a failure in Italian hands. However, Mr. Kindheart was so enraptured43 with his conception, that he presently wrote down into the town requesting the attendance with to-morrow’s earliest light of a certain little upholsterer. This upholsterer was famous for speaking the unintelligible44 local dialect (his own) in a far more unintelligible manner than any other man alive.
When from my bath next morning I overheard Mr. Kindheart and the upholsterer in conference on the top of an echoing staircase; and when I overheard Mr. Kindheart rendering English Undertaking45 phrases into very choice Italian, and the upholsterer replying in the unknown Tongues; and when I furthermore remembered that the local funerals had no resemblance to English funerals; I became in my secret bosom46 apprehensive47. But Mr. Kindheart informed me at breakfast that measures had been taken to ensure a signal success.
As the funeral was to take place at sunset, and as I knew to which of the city gates it must tend, I went out at that gate as the sun descended48, and walked along the dusty, dusty road. I had not walked far, when I encountered this procession:
1. Mr. Kindheart, much abashed49, on an immense grey horse.
2. A bright yellow coach and pair, driven by a coachman in bright red velvet50 knee-breeches and waistcoat. (This was the established local idea of State.) Both coach doors kept open by the coffin51, which was on its side within, and sticking out at each.
3. Behind the coach, the mourner, for whom the coach was intended, walking in the dust.
4. Concealed52 behind a roadside well for the irrigation of a garden, the unintelligible Upholsterer, admiring.
It matters little now. Coaches of all colours are alike to poor Kindheart, and he rests far North of the little cemetery with the cypress-trees, by the city walls where the Mediterranean53 is so beautiful.
My first funeral, a fair representative funeral after its kind, was that of the husband of a married servant, once my nurse. She married for money. Sally Flanders, after a year or two of matrimony, became the relict of Flanders, a small master builder; and either she or Flanders had done me the honour to express a desire that I should ‘follow.’ I may have been seven or eight years old; — young enough, certainly, to feel rather alarmed by the expression, as not knowing where the invitation was held to terminate, and how far I was expected to follow the deceased Flanders. Consent being given by the heads of houses, I was jobbed up into what was pronounced at home decent mourning (comprehending somebody else’s shirt, unless my memory deceives me), and was admonished54 that if, when the funeral was in action, I put my hands in my pockets, or took my eyes out of my pocket-handkerchief, I was personally lost, and my family disgraced. On the eventful day, having tried to get myself into a disastrous55 frame of mind, and having formed a very poor opinion of myself because I couldn’t cry, I repaired to Sally’s. Sally was an excellent creature, and had been a good wife to old Flanders, but the moment I saw her I knew that she was not in her own real natural state. She formed a sort of Coat of Arms, grouped with a smelling-bottle, a handkerchief, an orange, a bottle of vinegar, Flanders’s sister, her own sister, Flanders’s brother’s wife, and two neighbouring gossips — all in mourning, and all ready to hold her whenever she fainted. At sight of poor little me she became much agitated56 (agitating me much more), and having exclaimed, ‘O here’s dear Master Uncommercial!’ became hysterical57, and swooned as if I had been the death of her. An affecting scene followed, during which I was handed about and poked58 at her by various people, as if I were the bottle of salts. Reviving a little, she embraced me, said, ‘You knew him well, dear Master Uncommercial, and he knew you!’ and fainted again: which, as the rest of the Coat of Arms soothingly59 said, ‘done her credit.’ Now, I knew that she needn’t have fainted unless she liked, and that she wouldn’t have fainted unless it had been expected of her, quite as well as I know it at this day. It made me feel uncomfortable and hypocritical besides. I was not sure but that it might be manners in ME to faint next, and I resolved to keep my eye on Flanders’s uncle, and if I saw any signs of his going in that direction, to go too, politely. But Flanders’s uncle (who was a weak little old retail60 grocer) had only one idea, which was that we all wanted tea; and he handed us cups of tea all round, incessantly61, whether we refused or not. There was a young nephew of Flanders’s present, to whom Flanders, it was rumoured62, had left nineteen guineas. He drank all the tea that was offered him, this nephew — amounting, I should say, to several quarts — and ate as much plum-cake as he could possibly come by; but he felt it to be decent mourning that he should now and then stop in the midst of a lump of cake, and appear to forget that his mouth was full, in the contemplation of his uncle’s memory. I felt all this to be the fault of the undertaker, who was handing us gloves on a tea-tray as if they were muffins, and tying us into cloaks (mine had to be pinned up all round, it was so long for me), because I knew that he was making game. So, when we got out into the streets, and I constantly disarranged the procession by tumbling on the people before me because my handkerchief blinded my eyes, and tripping up the people behind me because my cloak was so long, I felt that we were all making game. I was truly sorry for Flanders, but I knew that it was no reason why we should be trying (the women with their heads in hoods63 like coal-scuttles with the black side outward) to keep step with a man in a scarf, carrying a thing like a mourning spy-glass, which he was going to open presently and sweep the horizon with. I knew that we should not all have been speaking in one particular key-note struck by the undertaker, if we had not been making game. Even in our faces we were every one of us as like the undertaker as if we had been his own family, and I perceived that this could not have happened unless we had been making game. When we returned to Sally’s, it was all of a piece. The continued impossibility of getting on without plum-cake; the ceremonious apparition64 of a pair of decanters containing port and sherry and cork65; Sally’s sister at the tea-table, clinking the best crockery and shaking her head mournfully every time she looked down into the teapot, as if it were the tomb; the Coat of Arms again, and Sally as before; lastly, the words of consolation66 administered to Sally when it was considered right that she should ‘come round nicely:’ which were, that the deceased had had ‘as com-for-ta-ble a fu-ne-ral as comfortable could be!’
Other funerals have I seen with grown-up eyes, since that day, of which the burden has been the same childish burden. Making game. Real affliction, real grief and solemnity, have been outraged67, and the funeral has been ‘performed.’ The waste for which the funeral customs of many tribes of savages are conspicuous68, has attended these civilised obsequies; and once, and twice, have I wished in my soul that if the waste must be, they would let the undertaker bury the money, and let me bury the friend.
In France, upon the whole, these ceremonies are more sensibly regulated, because they are upon the whole less expensively regulated. I cannot say that I have ever been much edified69 by the custom of tying a bib and apron4 on the front of the house of mourning, or that I would myself particularly care to be driven to my grave in a nodding and bobbing car, like an infirm four-post bedstead, by an inky fellow-creature in a cocked-hat. But it may be that I am constitutionally insensible to the virtues70 of a cocked-hat. In provincial71 France, the solemnities are sufficiently72 hideous73, but are few and cheap. The friends and townsmen of the departed, in their own dresses and not masquerading under the auspices74 of the African Conjurer, surround the hand-bier, and often carry it. It is not considered indispensable to stifle75 the bearers, or even to elevate the burden on their shoulders; consequently it is easily taken up, and easily set down, and is carried through the streets without the distressing floundering and shuffling76 that we see at home. A dirty priest or two, and a dirtier acolyte77 or two, do not lend any especial grace to the proceedings78; and I regard with personal animosity the bassoon, which is blown at intervals79 by the big-legged priest (it is always a big-legged priest who blows the bassoon), when his fellows combine in a lugubrious80 stalwart drawl. But there is far less of the Conjurer and the Medicine Man in the business than under like circumstances here. The grim coaches that we reserve expressly for such shows, are non-existent; if the cemetery be far out of the town, the coaches that are hired for other purposes of life are hired for this purpose; and although the honest vehicles make no pretence81 of being overcome, I have never noticed that the people in them were the worse for it. In Italy, the hooded82 Members of Confraternities who attend on funerals, are dismal83 and ugly to look upon; but the services they render are at least voluntarily rendered, and impoverish no one, and cost nothing. Why should high civilisation84 and low savagery85 ever come together on the point of making them a wantonly wasteful86 and contemptible87 set of forms?
Once I lost a friend by death, who had been troubled in his time by the Medicine Man and the Conjurer, and upon whose limited resources there were abundant claims. The Conjurer assured me that I must positively88 ‘follow,’ and both he and the Medicine Man entertained no doubt that I must go in a black carriage, and must wear ‘fittings.’ I objected to fittings as having nothing to do with my friendship, and I objected to the black carriage as being in more senses than one a job. So, it came into my mind to try what would happen if I quietly walked, in my own way, from my own house to my friend’s burial-place, and stood beside his open grave in my own dress and person, reverently89 listening to the best of Services. It satisfied my mind, I found, quite as well as if I had been disguised in a hired hatband and scarf both trailing to my very heels, and as if I had cost the orphan90 children, in their greatest need, ten guineas.
Can any one who ever beheld91 the stupendous absurdities92 attendant on ‘A message from the Lords’ in the House of Commons, turn upon the Medicine Man of the poor Indians? Has he any ‘Medicine’ in that dried skin pouch93 of his, so supremely94 ludicrous as the two Masters in Chancery holding up their black petticoats and butting95 their ridiculous wigs96 at Mr. Speaker? Yet there are authorities innumerable to tell me — as there are authorities innumerable among the Indians to tell them — that the nonsense is indispensable, and that its abrogation97 would involve most awful consequences. What would any rational creature who had never heard of judicial98 and forensic99 ‘fittings,’ think of the Court of Common Pleas on the first day of Term? Or with what an awakened100 sense of humour would LIVINGSTONE’S account of a similar scene be perused101, if the fur and red cloth and goats’ hair and horse hair and powdered chalk and black patches on the top of the head, were all at Tala Mungongo instead of Westminster? That model missionary102 and good brave man found at least one tribe of blacks with a very strong sense of the ridiculous, insomuch that although an amiable and docile103 people, they never could see the Missionaries104 dispose of their legs in the attitude of kneeling, or hear them begin a hymn105 in chorus, without bursting into roars of irrepressible laughter. It is much to be hoped that no member of this facetious106 tribe may ever find his way to England and get committed for contempt of Court.
In the Tonga Island already mentioned, there are a set of personages called Mataboos — or some such name — who are the masters of all the public ceremonies, and who know the exact place in which every chief must sit down when a solemn public meeting takes place: a meeting which bears a family resemblance to our own Public Dinner, in respect of its being a main part of the proceedings that every gentleman present is required to drink something nasty. These Mataboos are a privileged order, so important is their avocation107, and they make the most of their high functions. A long way out of the Tonga Islands, indeed, rather near the British Islands, was there no calling in of the Mataboos the other day to settle an earth-convulsing question of precedence; and was there no weighty opinion delivered on the part of the Mataboos which, being interpreted to that unlucky tribe of blacks with the sense of the ridiculous, would infallibly set the whole population screaming with laughter?
My sense of justice demands the admission, however, that this is not quite a one-sided question. If we submit ourselves meekly108 to the Medicine Man and the Conjurer, and are not exalted109 by it, the savages may retort upon us that we act more unwisely than they in other matters wherein we fail to imitate them. It is a widely diffused110 custom among savage tribes, when they meet to discuss any affair of public importance, to sit up all night making a horrible noise, dancing, blowing shells, and (in cases where they are familiar with fire-arms) flying out into open places and letting off guns. It is questionable111 whether our legislative112 assemblies might not take a hint from this. A shell is not a melodious113 wind-instrument, and it is monotonous114; but it is as musical as, and not more monotonous than, my Honourable115 friend’s own trumpet116, or the trumpet that he blows so hard for the Minister. The uselessness of arguing with any supporter of a Government or of an Opposition117, is well known. Try dancing. It is a better exercise, and has the unspeakable recommendation that it couldn’t be reported. The honourable and savage member who has a loaded gun, and has grown impatient of debate, plunges118 out of doors, fires in the air, and returns calm and silent to the Palaver119. Let the honourable and civilised member similarly charged with a speech, dart120 into the cloisters121 of Westminster Abbey in the silence of night, let his speech off, and come back harmless. It is not at first sight a very rational custom to paint a broad blue stripe across one’s nose and both cheeks, and a broad red stripe from the forehead to the chin, to attach a few pounds of wood to one’s under lip, to stick fish-bones in one’s ears and a brass122 curtain-ring in one’s nose, and to rub one’s body all over with rancid oil, as a preliminary to entering on business. But this is a question of taste and ceremony, and so is the Windsor Uniform. The manner of entering on the business itself is another question. A council of six hundred savage gentlemen entirely123 independent of tailors, sitting on their hams in a ring, smoking, and occasionally grunting124, seem to me, according to the experience I have gathered in my voyages and travels, somehow to do what they come together for; whereas that is not at all the general experience of a council of six hundred civilised gentlemen very dependent on tailors and sitting on mechanical contrivances. It is better that an Assembly should do its utmost to envelop125 itself in smoke, than that it should direct its endeavours to enveloping126 the public in smoke; and I would rather it buried half a hundred hatchets127 than buried one subject demanding attention.
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1
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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aprons
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| 围裙( apron的名词复数 )； 停机坪，台口（舞台幕前的部份） | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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antiquated
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| adj.陈旧的，过时的 | |
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irrationality
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| n. 不合理，无理性 | |
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culminates
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| v.达到极点( culminate的第三人称单数 ) | |
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supervision
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| n.监督，管理 | |
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impoverish
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| vt.使穷困，使贫困 | |
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preposterous
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| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
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enchantments
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| n.魅力( enchantment的名词复数 )；迷人之处；施魔法；着魔 | |
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conceals
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的第三人称单数 ) | |
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exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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bereaved
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| adj.刚刚丧失亲人的v.使失去（希望、生命等）( bereave的过去式和过去分词)；（尤指死亡）使丧失（亲人、朋友等）；使孤寂；抢走（财物） | |
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followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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honourably
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| adv.可尊敬地，光荣地，体面地 | |
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piously
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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hatchet
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| n.短柄小斧；v.扼杀 | |
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immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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implements
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| n.工具( implement的名词复数 )；家具；手段；[法律]履行（契约等）v.实现( implement的第三人称单数 )；执行；贯彻；使生效 | |
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superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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bereavement
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| n.亲人丧亡，丧失亲人，丧亲之痛 | |
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distressing
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| a.使人痛苦的 | |
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survivor
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| n.生存者，残存者，幸存者 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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disinterested
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| adj.不关心的，不感兴趣的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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cemetery
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| n.坟墓，墓地，坟场 | |
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rendering
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| n.表现，描写 | |
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aloof
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| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
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sublime
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| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
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enraptured
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| v.使狂喜( enrapture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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unintelligible
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| adj.无法了解的，难解的，莫明其妙的 | |
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undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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46
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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abashed
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| adj.窘迫的，尴尬的v.使羞愧，使局促，使窘迫( abash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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52
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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Mediterranean
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| adj.地中海的；地中海沿岸的 | |
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admonished
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| v.劝告( admonish的过去式和过去分词 )；训诫；（温和地）责备；轻责 | |
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disastrous
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| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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58
poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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soothingly
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| adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地 | |
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60
retail
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| v./n.零售；adv.以零售价格 | |
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61
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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rumoured
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| adj.谣传的；传说的；风 | |
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63
hoods
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| n.兜帽( hood的名词复数 )；头巾；（汽车、童车等的）折合式车篷；汽车发动机罩v.兜帽( hood的第三人称单数 )；头巾；（汽车、童车等的）折合式车篷；汽车发动机罩 | |
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apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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cork
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| n.软木，软木塞 | |
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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edified
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| v.开导，启发( edify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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72
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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73
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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auspices
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| n.资助，赞助 | |
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75
stifle
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| vt.使窒息；闷死；扼杀；抑止，阻止 | |
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shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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acolyte
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| n.助手，侍僧 | |
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proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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lugubrious
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| adj.悲哀的，忧郁的 | |
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pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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hooded
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| adj.戴头巾的；有罩盖的；颈部因肋骨运动而膨胀的 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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85
savagery
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| n.野性 | |
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wasteful
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| adj.（造成）浪费的，挥霍的 | |
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contemptible
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| adj.可鄙的，可轻视的，卑劣的 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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reverently
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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90
orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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absurdities
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| n.极端无理性( absurdity的名词复数 )；荒谬；谬论；荒谬的行为 | |
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pouch
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| n.小袋，小包，囊状袋；vt.装...入袋中，用袋运输；vi.用袋送信件 | |
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supremely
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| adv.无上地，崇高地 | |
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butting
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| 用头撞人（犯规动作） | |
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wigs
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| n.假发，法官帽( wig的名词复数 ) | |
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abrogation
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| n.取消，废除 | |
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judicial
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| adj.司法的，法庭的，审判的，明断的，公正的 | |
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forensic
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| adj.法庭的，雄辩的 | |
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awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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perused
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| v.读（某篇文字）( peruse的过去式和过去分词 )；（尤指）细阅；审阅；匆匆读或心不在焉地浏览（某篇文字） | |
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102
missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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103
docile
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| adj.驯服的，易控制的，容易教的 | |
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104
missionaries
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| n.传教士( missionary的名词复数 ) | |
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105
hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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106
facetious
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| adj.轻浮的，好开玩笑的 | |
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107
avocation
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| n.副业，业余爱好 | |
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108
meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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109
exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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diffused
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| 散布的，普及的，扩散的 | |
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111
questionable
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| adj.可疑的，有问题的 | |
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112
legislative
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| n.立法机构，立法权；adj.立法的，有立法权的 | |
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melodious
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| adj.旋律美妙的，调子优美的，音乐性的 | |
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114
monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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115
honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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116
trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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117
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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118
plunges
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| n.跳进，投入vt.使投入，使插入，使陷入vi.投入，跳进，陷入v.颠簸( plunge的第三人称单数 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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119
palaver
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| adj.壮丽堂皇的；n.废话，空话 | |
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120
dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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cloisters
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| n.（学院、修道院、教堂等建筑的）走廊( cloister的名词复数 )；回廊；修道院的生活；隐居v.隐退，使与世隔绝( cloister的第三人称单数 ) | |
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122
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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123
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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124
grunting
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| 咕哝的，呼噜的 | |
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125
envelop
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| vt.包，封，遮盖；包围 | |
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126
enveloping
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的现在分词 ) | |
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hatchets
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| n.短柄小斧( hatchet的名词复数 )；恶毒攻击；诽谤；休战 | |
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