By the way, I have not told you much about Geoffrey Strong yet, because the girls of the story have had everything their own way, but Geoffrey Strong was well worth knowing. He was only eighteen years old, but had finished his sophomore7 year at Bowdoin College, and was teaching the district school that he might partly earn the money necessary to take him through the remainder of the course. He was as sturdy and strong as his name, or as one of the stout8 pine-trees of his native State, as gentle and chivalrous9 as a boy knight10 of the olden time; as true and manly11 a lad, and withal as good and earnest a teacher, notwithstanding his youth, as any little country urchin12 could wish. Mr. Win-ship was his guardian13, and thus he had become quite one of the Winship family.
The boys were making the picnic grounds when I interrupted my story with this long parenthesis14. They took a large pair of old drop curtains used at some time or other in church tableaux15, and made a dark green carpet by stretching them across the floor smoothly16 and tacking17 them down; they wreathed the pillars and trimmed the doors and windows with evergreens18, and then planted young spruce and cedar20 and hemlock21 trees in the corners or scattered22 them about the room firmly rooted in painted nail-kegs.
“It looks rather jolly, boys, doesn’t it?” cried Jack, rubbing his cold fingers, “but I’m afraid we’ve gone as far as we can; we can’t make birds and flowers and brooks24!”
“What’s the special difficulty?” asked Geoffrey. “We’ll borrow Grandmother Winship’s two cages of canaries and Mrs. Adams’ two; then we’ll bring over Mrs. Carter’s pet parrot, and altogether we’ll be musical enough, considering the fact that the thermometer is below zero.”
This suggestion of Geoff’s they accordingly adopted, and their mimic25 forest became tuneful.
The next stroke of genius came from Hugh Pennell. He found bunches of white and yellow everlastings26 at home with which he mixed some cleverly constructed bright tissue-paper flowers, of mysterious botanical structure. He planted these in pots, and tied them to shrubs27, and behold28, their forest bloomed!
“But we have finished now, boys,” said Hugh, dejectedly, as he put his last bed of whiteweed and buttercups under a shady tree. (They were made of paper, and were growing artistically29 in a moss-covered chopping-tray.) “We can’t get up a brook23, and a brook is a handy thing at a picnic, too. Good for the small children to fall into, good for drinking, good for dish-washing, good for its cool and musical tinkle30.”
“I have an idea,” suggested Jack, who was mounted on a step-ladder busily engaged in tying a stuffed owl31 and a blue jay to a tree-top. “I have an idea. We can fill the ice-water tank, put it on a shelf, let the water run into a tub, then station a boy in the corner to keep filling the tank from the tub. There’s your stagnant32 pool and your running streamlet. There’s your drinking-water, your dish-washer, your musical tinkle, and possibly your small child’s watery33 grave. What could be more romantic?”
“Out with him!” shouted Geoff. “He ought to be drowned for proposing such an apology for a brook.”
“I fail to see the point,” said Jack; “the sound would be sylvan34 and suggestive, and I’ve no doubt the girls would be charmed.”
“We’ll brook no further argument on the subject,” retorted Hugh; “the afternoon is running away with us. We might bring up the bath-tub, or the watering-trough, sink it in an evergreen19 bank and surround it with house plants, but I don’t think it would satisfy us exactly. I’ll tell you, let us give up the brook and build a sort of what-do-you-call’em for a retreat, in one corner.” After some explanations from Hugh about his plan, the boys finally succeeded in manufacturing something romantic and ingenious. Two blooming oleanders in boxes were brought from Uncle Harry’s parlor35, there was a hemlock tree with a rustic36 seat under it, there was an evergreen arch above, there was a little rockery built with a dozen stones from the old wall behind the barn, and there were Miss Jane Sawyer’s potted scarlet37 geraniums set in among them, all surmounted38 by two banging baskets and a bird-cage. With nothing save an airtight stove to warm it into life (the ugliness of the stove quite hidden by screens of green boughs), the cold, bare hall was magically changed into a green forest, vocal39 with singing birds and radiant with blooming flowers.
The boys swung their hats in irrepressible glee.
“Won’t this be a surprise to the people, though! Won’t they think of the desert blooming as the rose!” cried Hugh.
“I fancy it won’t astonish Uncle Harry and Grandmother much,” answered Jack, dryly, “inasmuch as we’ve nearly borrowed them out of house and home during the operation. Old Mrs. Winship said when I took her hammer, hatchet40, chopping-tray, house plants, and screw-driver, that perhaps she had better go over to Mrs. Carter’s and board. The girls will be fairly stunned41, though. Just imagine Bell’s eyes! I told them we’d see to sweeping42 and heating the hall, but they don’t expect any decorations. Well, I’m off. Lock the door, Geoff, and guard it like a dragon; we meet at eleven to-morrow morning, do we? Be on hand, sharp, and let us all go in and view the scene together. I wouldn’t for worlds miss hearing and seeing the girls.”
Jack and Hugh started for home, and Geoff went downstairs to run a gauntlet of questioning from Jo Fenton, who was present in Grandmother Winship’s kitchen on one of the borrowing tours of the day, and extremely anxious to find out why so much mysterious hammering was going on.
While these preparations were in progress, the six juvenile43 housekeepers44 were undergoing abject45 suffering in their cookery for the picnic. It had been a day of disasters from beginning to end—the first really mournful one in their experience.
It commenced bright and early, too; in fact, was all ready for them before they awoke in the morning, and the coal fire began it, for it went out in the night. Everybody knows what it is to build a fire in a large coal stove; it was Jo’s turn as stoker and tirewoman, and I regret to say that this circumstance made her a little cross, in fact, audibly so.
After much searching for kindling-wood, however, much chattering46 of teeth, for the thermometer was below zero, much vicious banging of stove doors, and clattering47 of hods and shovels48, that trouble was overcome. But, dear me! it was only the first drop of a pouring rain of accidents, and at last the girls accepted it as a fatal shower which must fall before the weather would clear, and thus resigned themselves to the inevitable49.
The breakfast was as bad as a breakfast knew how to be. The girls were all cooks to-day in the exciting preparation for the picnic, for they wanted to take especially tempting50 dainties in order that they might astonish more experienced providers. Patty scorched51 the milk toast; Edith, that most precise and careful of all little women under the sun, broke a platter and burned her fingers; Lilia browned a delicious omelet, and waved the spider triumphantly52 in the air, astonished at her own success, when, alas54, the smooth little circlet slipped illnaturedly into the coal hod. Lilia stood still in horror and dismay, while Bell fished it hastily out, looking very crumpled55, sooty, shrunken, and generally penitent56, if an omelet can assume that expression. She slapped it on the table severely57, and said, with a little choke and tear in her voice:
“The last of the eggs went into that omelet, and it is going to he rinsed58, and fried over, and eaten. There isn’t another thing in the house for breakfast. There is no bread; Alice put cream-of-tartar into the buckwheats, instead of saleratus, and measured it with a tablespoon besides; Miss Miranda’s cat upset the milk can; the potatoes are frozen; and I am ashamed to borrow anything more of Grandmother.”
“Never,” cried Alice, with much determination. “Sooner eat omelet and coal hod, too! Never mind the breakfast! there are always apples. What shall we take to the picnic? We can suggest luncheon59 at high noon, and no one will suspect we haven’t breakfasted.”
“Let’s make mince60 pies,” cried Jo, animatedly61, from her seat on the wood-box.
“Goose,” answered Bell, with a sarcastic62 smile. “There’s plenty of time to make mince-meat, of course!”
“At any rate, we must have jelly-cake,” said Lilia, with decision, while dishing up the injured omelet for the second time. “We had better carry the delicacies63, for Mrs. Pennell and the boys will be sure to bring bread and meat and common things.”
“Oh, tarts64, tarts!” exclaimed Edith, in an ecstacy of reminiscence. “I haven’t had tarts for a perfect age! Do you think we could manage them?”
“They must be easy enough,” answered Patty, with calm authority. “Cut a hole out of the middle of each round thing, then till it up with jelly and bake it; that’s simple.”
“Glad you think so,” responded Edith, with an air of deep melancholy65 and cynicism, as she prepared to wash the cooking dishes and found an empty dish-water pot. “I should think the jelly would grow hard and crusty before the tarts baked, but I suppose it’s all right. Everything we touch to-day is sure to fail.”
“Oh, how much better if you said, ‘I’ll try, I’ll try, I’ll try,’” sang Bell, in a spasm66 of gayety.
“Oh, how much sadder you will feel when you’ve tried, by and by,” retorted Edith. “Is there anything difficult about pastry67, I wonder? Look in the cookbook. Does it have to be soaked over night like ham, or hung for two weeks like game, or put away in a stone jar like fruit-cake, or ‘braised’ or ‘trussed’ or ‘larded’ or anything?”
“No,” said Patty, looking up from the ‘Bride’s Manual,’ “but it has to be pounded on a marble slab68 with a glass rolling-pin.”
“Stuff and nonsense,” said Bell, “Tarts are nothing but pie-crust. This village is situated69 in the very middle of what is called the New England Pie Belt, and the glass rolling-pin and the marble slab have never been seen by the oldest or youngest inhabitant. I know that bride. When she makes pastry you can see her diamond engagement ring flash as she dips her turquoise70 scoop71 into her ruby72 flour-barrel. Look up soft gingerbread, Patty.”
“Four cups best New Orleans molasses—”
“The molasses is out,” said Jo; “find jelly-cake.”
“Jelly all gone,” said Bell; “where, I can’t think, for there were seventeen tumblers.”
“The boys are awfully74 fond of it with bread,” said Alice, reminiscently. “How about doughnuts?”
“All right,” Bell answered, “of course you’ll go to the store for more eggs and a pail of lard. We’re out of molasses, eggs, lard, ginger73, jelly, patience, and luck.”
Over an hour was spent in futile76 excursions through the cookery books, vain rummagings of the pantry and larder77, frequent trips to the country store, and nothing was a triumphant53 success. Things that should have been thin were fat and puffy; those that should have risen high and light as air were flat and soggy; pots, pans, bowls, were heaped on one another in the sink until at one o’clock Alice Forsaith went to bed with a headache, leaving the kitchen in a state of general confusion and uproar78. I cannot bear to tell you all the sorry incidents of that dreadful day, but Bell had shared in the blunders with the rest. She had gone to the store-room for citron, and had stumbled on a jar of frozen “something” very like mince-meat. This, indeed, was a precious discovery! She flew back to the kitchen, crying:
“Hurrah! We’ll have the pies after all, girls! Mother has left a pot of mince-meat in the pantry. It’s frozen, but it will be all right. You trust to me. I’ve made pies before, and these shall not be a failure.”
The spider was heated, and enough meat for three pies put in to thaw80. It thawed81, naturally, the fire being extremely hot, and it presently became very thin and curious in its appearance.
“It looks like thick soup with pieces of chopped apple in it,” said Lilia to Bell, who was patting down a very tough, substantial bottom crust on a pie plate.
“We-l-l, it does!” owned the head cook, frankly82; “but I suppose it will boil down or thicken up in baking. I don’t like to taste it, somehow.”
“Very natural,” said Lilia, dryly. “It doesn’t look ‘tasty;’ and, to tell the truth, it does not look at all as I’ve been brought up to imagine mince-meat ought to look.”
“I can’t be responsible for your ‘bringing up,’ Lill. Please pour it in, and I’ll hold the plate.”
The mixture trickled83 in; Bell put a very lumpy, spotted84 covering of dough75 over it, slashed85 a bold original design in the middle for a ventilator, and deposited the first pie in the oven with a sigh of relief.
Just at this happy moment, Betty Bean, Mrs. Winship’s maid-of-all-work, walked in with a can of kerosene86.
“Don’t you think that’s funny looking mince-meat, Betty?” asked Patty, pointing to the frying-pan.
Betty the wise looked at it one moment, and then said, with youthful certainty and disdain87: “’Tain’t no more mince-meat than a cat’s foot.”
This was decisive, and the utterance88 fell like a thunder-bolt upon the kitchen-maids.
“Gracious,” cried Bell, dropping her good English and her rolling-pin at the same time. “What do you mean? It looked exactly like it before it melted. What is it, then?”
“Suet,” answered cruel Betty Bean. “Your ma chopped it and done it up in molasses for her suet plum puddins this winter. It’s thick when it’s cold; and when it was froze, maybe it did look like pie-meat with a good deal of apple in it; but it ain’t no such thing.”
This was too much. If I am to relate truly the adventures of this half-dozen suffering little maidens89, I must tell you that Bell entirely90 lost her sunny temper for a moment; caught up the unoffending spider filled with molasses and floating bits of suet; carried it steadily91 and swiftly to the back-door, hurled92 it into a snow-bank; slammed the door, and sat down on a flour-firkin, burying her face in the very dingy93 roller-towel. The girls stopped laughing.
“Never mind, Bluebell,” cooed Patty, sympathetically, smoothing her hostess’s curly hair with a very doughnutty hand, and trying to wipe her flushed cheeks with an apron94 redolent of hot fat. “You can use the rest of the pie-crust for tarts, and my doughnuts are swelling95 up be-yoo-ti-ful-ly!”
Bell withdrew the towel from her merry, tearful eyes, and said with savage96 emphasis:
“If any of you dare tell this at the picnic to-morrow, or let Uncle Harry or the boys know about it, I’ll—I don’t know what I’ll do,” finished she, weakly.
“That’s a fearful threat,” laughed Jo,—“‘The King of France and fifty thousand men plucked forth97 their swords! and put them up again.’”
And so this cloud passed over, and another and yet another with comforting gleams of sunshine between, till at length it was seven o’clock in the evening before the dishes were washed and the kitchen tidied; then six as tired young housewives stretched themselves before the parlor fire as a bright blaze often shines upon. Bell, pale and pretty, was curled upon the sofa, with her eyes closed. The other girls were lounging in different attitudes of dejection, all with from one to three burned fingers enveloped98 in cloths. The results of the day’s labor99 were painfully meager,—a colander100 full of doughnuts, some currant buns, molasses ginger-bread, and a loaf of tolerably light fruit cake. Out in the kitchen closet lay a melancholy pile of failure,—Alice’s pop-overs, which had refused to pop; Patty’s tarts, rocky and tough; and a bride’s cake that would have made any newly married couple feel as if they were at the funeral of their own stomachs. The girls had flown too high in their journey through the cook book. Bell and Jo could really make plain things very nicely, and were considered remarkable101 caterers by their admiring family of school-mates; but the dainties they had attempted were entirely beyond their powers; hence the pile of wasted goodies in the closet.
“Oh, dear,” sighed Lilia. “Nobody has spoken a word for an age, and I don’t wonder, if everybody is as tired as I. Shall we ever be rested enough to go to-morrow?”
“I was thinking,” said Edith, dreamily, “that we have only seven more days to stay. If they were all to be as horrible as this, I shouldn’t care very much; but we have had such fun, I dread79 to break up housekeeping. The chief trouble with to-day was that we did no planning yesterday. We never looked into the store-room nor bought anything in advance nor settled what we should cook.”
“Well,” said Bell, waking up a little, “we will crowd everything possible into the last week and make it a real carnival102 time. To-morrow is Saturday and the picnic; on Monday or Tuesday we’ll have some sort of a ‘pow-wow,’ as Uncle Harry says, for the boys, in return for their invitation, and then we’ll think of something perfectly103 grand and stupendous for Friday, our last day of fun. It will take from that until Monday to get the house into something like order for my mother’s return. (This with a remorseful104 recollection of the terrible back bed-room, where everything imaginable had been ‘dumped’ for a week past.)
“I haven’t finished trimming our shade hats,” called Alice, faintly, from the distance. “I will do it in the morning while you are packing the luncheon. Whatever we do let us unpack105 our baskets privately106 and try to mix in our food with Mrs. Carter’s or Mrs. Winship’s, so that nobody will know which is which.”
The girls had tried to devise something jaunty107, picturesque108, and summery for a picnic costume; but the weather being too cold for a change of dress, they had only bought broad straw hats at the country store,—hats that farmers wore in haying time, with high crowns and wide brims. They had turned up one side of them coquettishly, and adorned109 it with funny silhouettes110 made of black paper, descriptive of their various adventures. Lilia’s, for instance, had a huge ink bottle and sponge; Bell’s a mammoth111 pie and frying-pan. Around the crowns they had tied colored scarfs of ribbon or gauze, interwoven with bunches of dried grasses, oats, and everlastings.
Half-past eight found them all sleep-in as soundly as dormice; and the next morning with the recuperative power that youth brings, they awoke entirely refreshed and ready for the fray112.
The picnic was a glorious success. It was a clear, bright day, and not very cold; so that with a good fire they were able to have a couple of windows open, and to feel more as if they were out in the fresh air. The surprise and delight of the girls knew no bounds when they were ushered113 into their novel picnic ground, and even the older people avowed114 that they had never seen such a miracle of ingenuity115. The scene was as pretty a one as can be imagined, though the young people little knew how lovely a picture they helped to make in the midst of their pastoral surroundings. Six charming faces they were, happy with girlish joy, sweet and bright from loving hearts, and pure, innocent, earnest living. Bell was radiant, issuing orders for the spread of the feast, flying here and there, laughing over a stuffed snake under a bush (Geoff’s device), and talking merry nonsense with Hugh, her arch eyes shining with mischief116 under her great straw hat.
Marcus Aurelius, the parrot, talked, and the canaries sang as if this were the last opportunity any of them ever expected to have; while the embroidered117 butterflies and stuffed birds fluttered and swayed and danced on the quivering tree-twigs beneath them almost as if they were alive.
The table-cloth was spread on the floor, in real picnic fashion, for the boys would allow neither tables nor chairs, and the lunch was simply delectable118. Mrs. Win-ship, Mrs. Brayton, and Mrs. Pennell, with affectionate forethought, had brought everything that schoolgirls and boys particularly affect—jelly-cake, tarts, and hosts of other goodies. How the girls remembered their closetful of “attempts” at home; how they roguishly exchanged glances, yet never disclosed their failures; how they discoursed119 learnedly on baking-powder versus120 saleratus, raw potato versus boiled potato yeast121; and with what dignity and assurance they discussed questions of household economy, and interlarded their conversation with quotations122 from the “Young Housekeeper’s Friend,” and the “Bride’s Manual.”
In the afternoon they played all sorts of games,—some quiet, more not at all so,—until at five o’clock, nearly dark in these short days, they left their make-believe forest and trudged123 home through the snow, baskets under their arms, declaring it a mistaken idea that picnics should be confined to summer.
“What a gl-orious time we’ve had!” exclaimed Jo, as they busied themselves about the home dining-room. “Yesterday seems like a horrible nightmare, or, at least, it would if it hadn’t happened in the daytime, and if we hadn’t the pantry to remind us of the truth. The things we carried were not so v-e-r-y bad, after all! I was really proud of the buns, and Patty’s doughnuts were as ‘swelled up’ as Mrs. Drayton’s.”
“And a great deal yellower and spotted-er,” quoth Edith, in a sly aside.
“Well,” admitted Patty, ruefully, “there certainly was quite enough saleratus in them; but I think it very unbecoming in the maker124 of the bride’s-cake to say anything about other people’s mistakes! Bride’s cake, indeed!” she finished with a scornful smile.
“True!” said Edith, much crushed by this heartless allusion125 to what had been the most thorough and expensive failure of the day; “I can’t deny it. Proceed with your sarcasm126.”
“This house ‘looks as if it was going to ride out’! as Miss Miranda says,” exclaimed Alice. “Do let us try to straighten it before Sunday! The closets are all in snarls127, the kitchen’s in a mess, and the less said about the back bedroom the better.”
Accordingly, inspired by Alice’s enthusiasm, they began to work and to improve the hours like a whole hiveful of busy bees. They put on big aprons128 and washed pans and pots that had been evaded129 for two days, made fish-balls for breakfast, dusted, scrubbed, washed, mended, darned, and otherwise reduced the house to that especial and delicious kind of order which is likened unto apple-pie. And thus one week of the joys and trials of this merry half-a-dozen housekeepers was over and gone.
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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inmates
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| n.囚犯( inmate的名词复数 ) | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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bower
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| n.凉亭，树荫下凉快之处；闺房；v.荫蔽 | |
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sophomore
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| n.大学二年级生；adj.第二年的 | |
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chivalrous
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| adj.武士精神的；对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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urchin
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| n.顽童；海胆 | |
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guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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parenthesis
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| n.圆括号，插入语，插曲，间歇，停歇 | |
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tableaux
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| n.舞台造型，（由活人扮演的）静态画面、场面；人构成的画面或场景( tableau的名词复数 )；舞台造型；戏剧性的场面；绚丽的场景 | |
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smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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tacking
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| （帆船）抢风行驶，定位焊[铆]紧钉 | |
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evergreens
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| n.常青树，常绿植物，万年青( evergreen的名词复数 ) | |
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evergreen
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| n.常青树；adj.四季常青的 | |
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cedar
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| n.雪松，香柏(木) | |
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hemlock
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| n.毒胡萝卜，铁杉 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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brooks
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| n.小溪( brook的名词复数 ) | |
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mimic
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| v.模仿，戏弄；n.模仿他人言行的人 | |
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everlastings
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| 永久，无穷（everlasting的复数形式） | |
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shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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artistically
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| adv.艺术性地 | |
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tinkle
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| vi.叮当作响；n.叮当声 | |
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owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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stagnant
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| adj.不流动的，停滞的，不景气的 | |
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watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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sylvan
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| adj.森林的 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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vocal
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| adj.直言不讳的；嗓音的；n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
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hatchet
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| n.短柄小斧；v.扼杀 | |
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41
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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42
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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43
juvenile
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| n.青少年，少年读物；adj.青少年的，幼稚的 | |
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44
housekeepers
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| n.（女）管家( housekeeper的名词复数 ) | |
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45
abject
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| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
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46
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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47
clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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48
shovels
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| n.铲子( shovel的名词复数 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份v.铲子( shovel的第三人称单数 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份 | |
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49
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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50
tempting
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| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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51
scorched
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
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52
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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53
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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54
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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55
crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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56
penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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57
severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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58
rinsed
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| v.漂洗( rinse的过去式和过去分词 )；冲洗；用清水漂洗掉（肥皂泡等）；（用清水）冲掉 | |
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59
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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60
mince
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| n.切碎物；v.切碎，矫揉做作地说 | |
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61
animatedly
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| adv.栩栩如生地，活跃地 | |
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62
sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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63
delicacies
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| n.棘手( delicacy的名词复数 )；精致；精美的食物；周到 | |
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64
tarts
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| n.果馅饼( tart的名词复数 )；轻佻的女人；妓女；小妞 | |
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65
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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66
spasm
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| n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作 | |
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67
pastry
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| n.油酥面团，酥皮糕点 | |
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68
slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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69
situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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70
turquoise
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| n.绿宝石；adj.蓝绿色的 | |
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71
scoop
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| n.铲子，舀取，独家新闻；v.汲取，舀取，抢先登出 | |
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72
ruby
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| n.红宝石，红宝石色 | |
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73
ginger
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| n.姜，精力，淡赤黄色；adj.淡赤黄色的；vt.使活泼，使有生气 | |
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74
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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75
dough
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| n.生面团；钱，现款 | |
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76
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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77
larder
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| n.食物贮藏室，食品橱 | |
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78
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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79
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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80
thaw
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| v.（使）融化，（使）变得友善；n.融化，缓和 | |
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81
thawed
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| 解冻 | |
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82
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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83
trickled
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| v.滴( trickle的过去式和过去分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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84
spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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85
slashed
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| v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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86
kerosene
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| n.(kerosine)煤油，火油 | |
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87
disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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88
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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89
maidens
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| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
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90
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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91
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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92
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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93
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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94
apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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95
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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96
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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97
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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98
enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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99
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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100
colander
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| n.滤器，漏勺 | |
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101
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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102
carnival
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| n.嘉年华会，狂欢，狂欢节，巡回表演 | |
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103
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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104
remorseful
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| adj.悔恨的 | |
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105
unpack
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| vt.打开包裹（或行李），卸货 | |
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106
privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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107
jaunty
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| adj．愉快的，满足的；adv.心满意足地，洋洋得意地；n.心满意足；洋洋得意 | |
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108
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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109
adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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110
silhouettes
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| 轮廓( silhouette的名词复数 )； （人的）体形； （事物的）形状； 剪影 | |
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111
mammoth
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| n.长毛象；adj.长毛象似的，巨大的 | |
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112
fray
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| v.争吵；打斗；磨损，磨破；n.吵架；打斗 | |
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113
ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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114
avowed
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| adj.公开声明的，承认的v.公开声明，承认( avow的过去式和过去分词) | |
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115
ingenuity
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| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
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116
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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117
embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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118
delectable
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| adj.使人愉快的；美味的 | |
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119
discoursed
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| 演说（discourse的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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120
versus
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| prep.以…为对手，对；与…相比之下 | |
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121
yeast
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| n.酵母；酵母片；泡沫；v.发酵；起泡沫 | |
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122
quotations
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| n.引用( quotation的名词复数 )；[商业]行情（报告）；（货物或股票的）市价；时价 | |
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123
trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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124
maker
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| n.制造者，制造商 | |
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125
allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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126
sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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127
snarls
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| n.（动物的）龇牙低吼( snarl的名词复数 )；愤怒叫嚷（声）；咆哮（声）；疼痛叫声v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的第三人称单数 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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128
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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129
evaded
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| 逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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