“Why, people will think you are a suffragette!” said he, searching for some term of obloquy1 that he felt could not possibly apply to me.
But I am a suffragist, an ardent2 suffragist, realising that a woman is most valuable neither as an angel nor as a slave, but as a useful citizen, and I saw then that he possibly knew little about the condition of his own women, and probably absolutely nothing at all about the condition of the women of the race who swarmed3 around him. Those he met would be dumb, and at any rate no right-minded woman begins upon her wrongs to a stranger. In any country it would be bad taste, in China no words can tell what shocking bad taste. I had to seek further afield for my information, and I got it from the medical missions. Now I went to China with a strong prejudice against missionaries4, and I found there many people who backed me up. And then it occurred to me that I had better go to a mission station and see what manner of people were these I was judging so hastily and so finally.
I went. And what I saw made me sorry that Great Britain and America, to say nothing of Scandinavia, should be deprived of the services of these men and women who are giving so much to an alien people. Of course I know that many missionaries have the “call,” a “vocation” I suppose the Catholics would call it.
“It is a fine work,” said I, usually the unadmiring, “to teach these women, but I do not like coming in contact with them, however much I appreciate their virtues5.”
And the missionary6 girl looked at me pityingly.
“Do you think,” said she, “we could come all this way to teach Chinese women reading, writing and arithmetic?”
It seems to me a great thing to do; if it be only to teach them to wash, it is a great thing; but I who merely pitied would never have stayed there to better the condition of those unhappy women. To her and her comrades had come that mysterious call that comes to all peoples through all the ages, the Crying in the Wilderness8, “Prepare ye the way of the Lord. Make His paths straight,” and she thought more, far more, of it than I did of the undoubtedly10 good work I saw she was doing, saw as I never should have seen had I not gone in the ways untrodden by the tourist, or indeed by any white man.
There are missionaries and missionaries, of course; there are even backsliders who, having learned the difficult tongue under the ?gis of the missions, have taken up curio-buying or any other of the mercantile careers that loom11 so temptingly before the man who knows China; but in all classes of society there are backsliders, the great majority must not be judged by them. Neither must their narrowness be laid too mueh to heart when judging the missionary as a whole. Possibly only a fanatic12 can carry through whole-heartedly the work of a missionary at a remote station in China, and most fanatics13 are narrow. There are, too, the men and women who make it a business and a livelihood14, who reckon they have house and income and position and servants in return for their services to the heathen, but they too are faithful and carry out their contracts. Having once seen the misery15 and poverty in which the great majority of Chinese dwell, I can say honestly that I think every mission station that I have seen is a centre from which radiates at least a hope of better things. They raise the standard of living, and though I care not what god a man worships, and cannot understand how any man can be brought to care, it is good that to these people sitting in darkness someone should point out that behind the world lies a great Force, God, Love, call it what you will, that is working for good. That the more educated Chinese has worked out a faith for himself, just as many in the West have done, I grant you, but still the majority of the people that I have seen sit in darkness and want help. From the missions they get it. Taken by and large, the Chinaman is a utilitarian16 person, and if the missions had not been helpful they would long ago have gone. And for the missionaries themselves—I speak of those in the outstations—not one, it seems to me, not one would stay among the Chinese unless he were sure that his God had sent him, for the life is hard, even for the rich missions there are many deprivations17, and if therefore, being but human, they sometimes depict18 their God as merciful and loving in a way that seems small and petty, much must be forgiven them. They are doing their best.
There is another side to it too for the West. These missionaries are conquering China by the system of peaceful penetration19. They are persecuted20, they suffer, are murdered often, but that does not drive them away. They come back again and again, and wherever the missionary succeeds in planting his foot the hatred21 to foreigners and things foreign, strong among the conservative Chinese, is weakened and finally broken down. China is a rich country, she is invaluable23 to the nations of the earth for purposes of trade, and though the missionary in many ways, if he were asked, would oppose the coming of the white man, he certainly is the pioneer.
China is trying to reform herself, but the process is slow, and it seems to me in Shansi and in the parts of Chihli that I know it would be a long, long while before the good percolated24 to the proletariat, the Babylonish slaves, if it were not for the missionaries; and particularly do I admire the medical missionaries, for China is one huge sore.
That is the word the woman doctor at Pao Ting Fu applied25 to it, and, attending her clinic of a morning, I was inclined to agree with her. Life is hard for everybody among the poor in China, but especially does it press upon the women. They came there into the clean sun-lit room and the reek26 of them went up to heaven—bald-headed, toothless old crones in wadded coats out of which all semblance27 of colour had long since passed, young girls and little children clad in the oldest of garments. There were so many with ingrowing eyelashes that the doctor had one particular day upon which she operated for this painful disfigurement, and she showed me how, by making a little nick—I'm afraid I can't use proper surgical28 terms—in the upper eyelid29, she turned back the eyelashes and made them grow in the direction they are intended to grow, and saved the unfortunates' eyes. Why eyelashes should grow in in China I don't know. Perhaps it is my ignorance, but I have never heard of their behaving in such an unnatural30 fashion in any other part of the world, while in Pao Ting Fu this ailment31 seemed to be as common as influenza32 in London. Then there would be women with their mouths closed by sores, often so badly they could only live by suction, and more than once a new mouth had to be cut; there were cancerous growths—the woman depicted33 in the picture had waited twenty years before she could arrange to come under one hundred miles to the doctor—there were sores on the head, sores all over the body, all, I suppose, including the ingrowing eyelashes, caused by malnutrition34, swollen35 glands36, abscesses offensive and purulent, in fact in that clinic were collected such an array of human woes38, ghastly, horrible, as well might make one wonder if the force behind all life could possibly be anything but devilish and cruel. Wherein could the good be found? Where?
And yet there was good. Among these women moved the nurses. They were comely39 girls in blue coats and trousers, with their abundant black hair smoothly40 drawn41 back, neat white stockings and the daintiest of little shoes. Their delicate artistic42 hands used sponge and basin very capably, they were the greatest contrast to their patients, and yet they were truly Chinese, had sprung from the people to whom they now ministered, and one of them, though it was hardly observable, had an artificial foot. So had she suffered from foot-binding44 that her own had had to be amputated.
Probably most of the ailments45 there treated were preventable, but worst of all were the bound feet and the ailments the women suffered from in consequence. It is not good manners to speak about a woman's feet, and the women themselves rarely refer to them, but naturally I was interested in the custom, and whenever the doctor got a “good” bound foot, which probably meant a very bad one, she sent over for me to come and see it. Anyone who has once seen a bound foot will never forget it. It always smelt46 abominably47 when first the bandages were taken off, and the first thing the nurses did was to provide a square kerosene48 tin of hot water in which to soak the foot well.
Well washed, the feet might be looked at. Shansi especially is the home of the bound foot, most of the women have such small feet that they are confined for the greater part of their lives to the k'ang. I remember Dr Lewis in all seriousness saying that he thought on the whole a Chinese woman was better without her feet. And I'm inclined to think he was right. The toes, all except the big toe, are pressed back till they touch the heel, the bandage is put on and drawn tighter and tighter every day, and if the girl is healthy and big-boned, so much the worse for her. No matter the size of the girl, the foot must conform to the one standard. In Shansi when I was there the shoes were generally about four inches long, and I have taken shoes of that length off a tall and strapping49 woman who was tottering51 along with the aid of a stick. What she must have suffered to get her feet to that size is too terrible to imagine. She must have been suffering still for that matter. If the instep after the tightest binding still sticks up the girl's marriage chances are seriously interfered52 with, and then the mother or some feminine relative takes a meat-chopper and breaks the bone till she can bind43 the foot small enough. This information I got from the American lady who looks after the women in the mission in Fen37 Chou Fu; and at T'ai Yuan Fu the sister in the women's hospital added the gruesome detail that they sometimes pull off the little girls' toe-nails so that they may not interfere53 with the binding!
And at the women's hospital at Pao Ting Fu I saw the finished product. The big toe stuck straight out, red, possibly because of the soaking in hot water—I never had courage to look at one unsoaked—and ghastly-looking, the other toes were pressed back against the heel and the heel went up and was exactly like the Cuban heels affected54 by smartly dressed women, only this time it had been worked in flesh and blood. The whole limb from the big toe to the knee was hard and immovable as stone. If you press ordinary flesh anywhere it pits, just yields a little, not so a Chinese woman's leg and foot. It is thin, perished, literally55 hard as marble. Once having seen a foot unbound, it is a wonder to me that any woman should walk at all. And yet they do. They hold out their arms and walk, balancing themselves, and they use a stick. Sometimes they walk on their heels, sometimes they try the toe, but once I realised what those bandages concealed56 it was a painful and dreadful thing to me to see a Chinese woman walking. In spite of the hardness of the flesh, or probably because of it, they get bad corns on the spot upon which they balance, and sores, very often tuberculous, eat into the foot.
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But the evil does not stop at the foot. In Shansi it seemed to me every woman's face was marked with the marks of patient suffering. Travelling I often got a glimpse of one peering out of a cart or litter at the foreigner, and that face invariably was patient, pallid57 and worn, for foot-binding brings no end of evils in its train. The doctor at Fen Chou Fu declared that nine-tenths of the women who came to him for treatment suffered from tuberculosis58 in some form or another, and this in a climate that in the winter must outrival in dryness Davos Platts. Not a few, too, develop spinal59 curvature low down in the back, and often because of the displacement60 of the organs they die in child-birth. A missionary in one of the little towns I passed through, a trained nurse, told me that when a woman suffered from what she (the woman) called leg-waist pains—the doctor called it osteomalacia—her case was hopeless, she could not give birth to a child. Often this nurse had been called in to such cases, and she could do nothing to help the suffering girl. She could only stand by and see her die. I could well believe these tales of suffering. In Fen Chou Fu and in Pao Ting Fu the women of the poorer classes freely walked the streets, and their crippled condition was patent to all eyes. But in some towns it is not considered seemly for any woman to be seen in the streets. Some reason established this custom long ago: the reason passes, but China is the most conservative of nations, and the custom remains61. But the reason for foot-binding is not very clear. There is something sexual at the bottom of it, I believe, but why a sick and ailing62 woman should be supposed to welcome the embraces of her lord more readily than one abounding63 in health passes my understanding. Of course we remember that not so very long ago, in the reign22 of Victoria, practically the delicate woman who was always ailing was held up to universal admiration65. Look at the swooning heroines of Dickens and Thackeray. But let no man put the compressed waist on the same plane as foot-binding. I have heard more than one man do so, but I unhesitatingly affirm they are wrong. Foot-binding is infinitely66 the worse crime. The pinched-in waist did not begin till the girl was at least well on in her teens, and it was only the extreme cases—and they did it of their own free will I presume—who kept up the pressure always. There was always the night for rest, whereas the Chinese women get no rest from torture.
The missionaries at Fen Chou Fu, being very anxious to improve the status of the women, used to arrange to have lectures in their large hall to women only, and they raked the country-side for important people to address them on subjects that were, or rather that should be, of interest to women. They were not supposed to have anything to do with religion, but they discussed openly women's position, were told about hygiene67 and the care of children, and the magistrate's wife, she who had been educated in Japan, told them some home-truths about the position of women in China.
“American women,” said she on one occasion, “go out into the world and help in the world's development. We Chinese stay at home and are dragged along by the men. The time has come when we must learn better things.”
But I looked one day at over seventy women of the richer classes assembled to listen to a young and enthusiastic Chinese with modern views on the position of women and their equality with men. He was passionate68, he was eloquent69, he was desperately70 in earnest, but it was very evident he spoke71 to deaf ears. I do not think that any one of those women grasped, or cared for that matter, what he was saying. In the heart of China woman is very far from being the equal of man. These women were pets and toys, and they came to the mission station probably because it was the fashionable form of amusement just then, but they listened to what was being said with deaf ears and minds incapable72 of understanding. They were gaily73 clad in silks and satins, richly embroidered74; their hair when it was abundant was oiled and elaborately dressed and decorated with gold and silver pins, and when it was scanty75 was hidden under embroidered silken bands; there was not a skirt amongst them, that was left to the lecturer, their blue and green and brilliant red trousers were rather narrow, their feet were of the very tiniest even in Shansi, and their faces, worn and suffering under their paint and powder, were vacant. Some of them had brought their babies, and only when a child cried, and they cried fairly frequently, did those faces light up. That was something they really did understand.
And yet that enthusiastic young scholar in his voluminous petticoats, with his hair cut in the modern fashion, went on lecturing to them on the rights of women, the position women ought to occupy!
But the position of women! Toys or slaves are they, toys and slaves have been their mothers and their grandmothers since the days before the dawn of history, and very, very slowly is the idea of the possibility of better things percolating76 through to the masses in China. It will come, I suppose, because already there are Government schools for women, though they are few and far between, and in some places, so far has the desire for freedom gone, the girls have banded themselves into societies, declaring that rather than marry a man they have never seen they will commit suicide, and more than one has taken her own life. But in the parts of Shansi and Chihli where I was so much light has not yet penetrated77. The wife and mother has influence because any living thing with which we are closely associated—even if it be but a little dog—must needs influence us, but all the same the Chinese women are as a rule mere7 chattels79, dependent entirely80 upon their menfolk. Amongst the Chinese the five happinesses are: old age, a son, riches, official position and a moustache; so slight a thing is a woman that she does not come in in this connection.
“As far as the heavens are above the earth, so far am I,” disdainfully proclaimed a Chinese teacher, “above my wife.” And he only spoke as if stating a self-evident fact, a thing that could not be questioned. “How could she be my equal?” Just as I might have objected to being put on the same plane as my mule81 or my little dog. Indeed I doubt very much whether he gave the same consideration to his wife as I would do to my little dog, who is much beloved.
This is not to say, of course, that the men don't consider the women. They do.
I remember the gate-keeper at Pao Ting Fu mission paying up for his daughter's schooling82. He was a jovial83 old soul, so old that I was surprised to hear he had a mother.
“Short am I?” said he cheerfully. “Short? Oh, that dollar and a half!” He paused to consider the matter, then added: “And I was thinking about borrowing a dollar from you. My mother's dying, and I want to buy her a skirt! Must be prepared, you know!”
The old lady, said Miss Newton, had probably never owned such a luxury as a skirt in her life, but that was her son's way of being good to her, for the people have a proverb to the effect that the most important thing in life is to be buried well, an idea that isn't entirely unknown in Western and more enlightened lands. Poor old lady, whose one and only skirt came to her to be buried in, or perhaps it would be taken off before she was buried, for the Chinese are a careful people. I remember one frugal84 man who celebrated85 the funeral of his mother and the marriage of his son at the same time, so that the funeral baked meats did for the marriage feast, and the same musicians did for both. The coffin86, of heavy black wood, tall as a mantelpiece, stood in the yard, with the eldest87 son and his wife clad in white as mourners, and the rest of the company made merry in the house over the bridal. It was the most exquisite88 piece of thrift89, but the Chinaman is par9 excellence90 an economist91.
It was in Pao Ting Fu that I met the only woman who made open complaint against the position of women, and she only did it because, poor thing, she was driven to it.
She slipped through the mission compound gate while the gate-keeper was looking the other way, a miserable92, unkempt woman with roughened hair and maimed feet. Her coat and trousers of the poorest blue cotton were old and soiled, and the child she carried in her arms was naked save for a little square of blue cotton tied round his body in front. She was simply a woman of the people, deadly poor where all just escape starvation, young and comely where many are unattractive, and she stood under the shade of the trees watching eagerly the mission family and their guest at breakfast on the porch! It was a June morning, the sunshine that would be too fierce later on now at 7 a.m. was golden, and a gentle breeze just whispered softly in the branches that China—even Pao Ting Fu—in the early summer morning was a delightful93 place.
But eager watching eyes glued to every mouthful are distinctly disquieting94, and in China, the land of punctilious95 etiquette96, are rude. Besides, she had no business to be there, and the doctor's wife turned and spoke to her.
“What custom is this?” said she, using the vernacular97, “and how did you get in here?”
“I ran past”—ran, save the mark, with those poor broken cramped98 feet—“when the gate-keeper was not looking. And it's not a day's hunger I have. For weeks when we have had a meal we have not known where the next was coming from.”
“But you have a husband?”
“And he was rich,” assented99 the woman, “but he has gambled it all away.”
It was quite a likely story. Another woman working on the compound said it was true. She had a bad husband—hi yah! a very bad husband. He beat her, often he beat her. Sometimes perhaps it was her fault, because she was bad-tempered100. Who would not be bad-tempered with maimed feet, an empty stomach and two little hungry children? But often he beat her for no reason at all. And everyone knows that a Chinese husband has a perfect right to beat his wife. That he refrains from so doing is an act of grace on his part, but a woman of herself is merely his chattel78. She has no rights.
The hospital quilted bed-covers—pel wos, they called them—had to be unripped and washed. The pay was twenty-five t'ung tzus a day and keep yourself. One hundred and thirty t'ung tzus went to the dollar, and 10-35 dollars went to the sovereign at that time, so that the work could not be considered overpaid; but this was China, and the women were apparently101 rising up out of the ground and clamouring for it. It was evidently looked upon as quite a recreation to sit under the trees on the grass in the mission compound and gossip and unpick quilts. The new recruit joined them and spent a happy day, sure of food for herself and her children for that day at least—not food perhaps such as we would appreciate, but at least a sufficiency of millet102 porridge.
That day and the next she worked, and then on the third day at midday she went away for her meal and did not come back till after two o'clock in the afternoon. The doctor's wife was reproachful.
“You have been away for over three hours. Why is this?”
She was a true Chinese and found it difficult to give a direct answer.
“I have been talking to my mother,” said she, rousing wrath103 where she might have gained sympathy.
“What excuse is this?” said the doctor's wife. “You go away, and when I ask you why, you tell me you have been talking to your mother! Your mother should have more sense than to keep you from your work!”
“But my husband has sold me!” protested the culprit and then we saw that her face was swollen with crying; “and I am a young woman and I don't know what to do when my husband sells me. He keeps the children and he sells me, and Tsao, the man who has bought me, is a bad man,” and dropping down to the ground she let the tears fall on to the work in her hands.
“I am young and so I don't know what to do.” It was the burden of her song. It may be she is wailing104 still, for the story was unfinished when I left. She was young and she didn't know what to do. She would not have minded leaving her husband if only the man to whom she had been sold had been a better man, but he bore a worse reputation if anything than her husband, and ignorant, unlearned in all things of this world as she was, she and the women round her knew exactly what her fate would be. Tsao would sell her when he tired of her, and her next purchaser would do likewise, and as she gets older and her white teeth decay and her bright eyes fade and her comeliness105 wanes106 her money value will grow less and less, and beating and starvation will be her portion till death comes as a merciful release. But, as she kept repeating pathetically, she is young, and death is the goal at the end of a weary, weary, heartbreaking road.
For her husband was quite within his rights. He could sell her. It may be, of course, he will be swayed by public opinion, and public opinion is against the disposing of a wife after this fashion.
“Let her complain to the official,” suggested my assurance.
But the wise women who knew rose up in horror at the depths of ignorance I was disclosing.
“Go to the yamen and complain of her husband!”
It is no crime for a man to sell his wife, but it is a deadly crime for a woman to speak evil of her husband! She was not yet handed over. All he would have to do would be to deny it, and then she would be convicted of this crime and to her other ills would be added the wrath of the official. No, something better than that must be thought of.
She had been sold for a hundred tiaou—something under four pounds—and when the money was paid she would have to go to her new master, far away from all her friends.
“Hi yah!” said the other women. “What a bad man!” So public opinion was against it!
It would do no good to buy her freedom unless the purchaser were prepared to take upon himself the conduct of her future life. A woman must belong to somebody in China; she is, except in very exceptional cases and among the very advanced, considered incapable of guiding her own life, and pay this and the man would still regard her as his wife and sell her again.
Then a woman wise with wisdom of the people arose.
“There is only one thing to be done,” said she; “you must pretend you know nothing about it, and when Tsao comes, and you are sold, then make an excuse and run to the yamen. It may be the official will help, for it is a wicked thing.”
“Run to the yamen!” on feet on which she could just totter50. But the wise woman had taken that into consideration.
“Mark well the way so you may hide in the turnings.”
Such a forlorn, pitiful little hope! But with it she had to be content, and that night she held her peace and pretended she did not know the fate that hung over her, and when I left she was still ripping bed-covers with the other women. She had had no hand in bringing about her own fate, for she did not choose this man. She had never seen him till she was handed over on her marriage day by her parents.
“What,” said the women at one place when a new missionary came to them, “forty and not married! What freedom! How did you manage it! What good fortune!”
In China there is no respectable word, so I am told, to denote a bachelor, and there was almost never, at least under the old regime, such a thing as an old maid. Every woman must belong to someone, and few and far between are the families that can afford to keep unmarried daughters, so the women regard as eminently107 fortunate those foreign women they come across, missionary or otherwise, who are apparently free to guide their own lives.
Of course the average husband would no more think of selling his wife than would an Englishman, but, unlike the Englishman, he knows that he has the right to do so should he so please, even as he has the right of life and death over her and his children. She is his chattel, to be faithful to her would simply be foolishness.
They tell a story of an angry father found digging a hole in which he proposed to bury his son alive. That son had been insolent108, and it was a terrible thing to have an insolent son. His mother wept, but to her tears the father paid no heed109. A stranger passed along and questioned the little company, and finding in his heart pity for the woman and the lad, cast about how he might help them. He did not set about it as we of the West would have done.
He commiserated110 with the father. It was a terrible thing to have an insolent son. Undoubtedly he deserved death. But it would be a bad thing to have no son to worship at the ancestral tablet.
That was provided for, said the irate111 parent. He had two other sons.
That was well! That was well! And of course they had sons?
No, they were young. They had no sons yet.
A-a-ah! And suppose anything happened by which they both should die?
The stranger let that sink in. He had struck the right chord. It would be a terrible thing to have no son to worship at the ancestral tablet—to think that he by his own act——
Chinese reasoning prevailed, and the son's life was spared.
And yet the Chinese are fond of their children and, according to their lights, good to their wives. It is that under the patriarchal system children and women—a woman is always a child, a very ignorant child as a rule—have no rights. They are dependent upon the good will of their owners.
And so the woman sitting waiting to see if her husband would complete the bargain and sell her had no rights. She was just a chattel in the eye of the law. And there was none to help. Miserere Domine! It was just possible public opinion would save her. It was her only hope. Miserere Domine! Miserere Domine!
In Fen Chou Fu the missionaries had started an adult school for women. First it was started, as they themselves put it, to teach the Gospel, but then wisely they extended it and taught reading, writing and arithmetic, and very eager indeed were the pupils. It is only fair to say that very often husbands, or possibly fathers-in-law—for a woman belongs to the head of her husband's family, or at least owes allegiance to him—aided and abetted112 in every way, and when necessary sent the pupils twenty and thirty miles in carts and in litters from away in the mountains to attend. One woman with four little children, all under five, with another coming, was a most eager pupil. Her children were sent to the kindergarten, which is in charge of a young Chinese teacher educated by the missionaries.
Again I do not say the Chinese are not doing something to ameliorate the condition of their women. I can only speak of what I saw, and what I saw was, here in Shansi, the wives of the most miserable peasants sunk in ignorance and hardly able to crawl from the k'angs on which they spent their lives. The men do the cooking because the women are incapable, and the mortality among the children is terrible. A doctor told me that very often he had attended a woman at the birth of her thirteenth or fourteenth child and only one or two would be living!
I don't know how many wives or concubines a man is allowed. Only the first one has any standing64, and the number of the others is probably limited by his means. I remember hearing of one man, a Mr Feng, who had just married his second wife to another man because she was making his life too miserable for him. This was the man's side of the story; I had heard the woman's the last time. I wonder how the case is put on these occasions. Does a man say he is parting with the lady with extreme regret because the climate does not suit her, or because his first wife does not like her, or because a sudden reverse of fortune has compelled him to reduce his household? He surely would never have given the real reason. My friend Mr Farrer waxes enthusiastic over things Chinese, but I must say what I have seen of their domestic life repels113 me, and I am rather inclined to agree with a missionary of my acquaintance—a bachelor though—that it would give nervous prostration114 to a brazen115 statue.
There can be little happiness where there is ignorance, and the majority of the women of Shansi anyhow are the ignorant slaves of ignorant slaves. Miserere Domine!
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obloquy
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| n.斥责，大骂 | |
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ardent
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swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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missionaries
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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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missionary
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mere
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wilderness
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undoubtedly
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loom
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fanatic
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fanatics
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| 狂热者，入迷者( fanatic的名词复数 ) | |
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14
livelihood
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| n.生计，谋生之道 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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utilitarian
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| adj.实用的，功利的 | |
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deprivations
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| 剥夺( deprivation的名词复数 )； 被夺去； 缺乏； 匮乏 | |
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18
depict
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| vt.描画，描绘；描写，描述 | |
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19
penetration
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| n.穿透，穿人，渗透 | |
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persecuted
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| （尤指宗教或政治信仰的）迫害(~sb. for sth.)( persecute的过去式和过去分词 )； 烦扰，困扰或骚扰某人 | |
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21
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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22
reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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invaluable
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| adj.无价的，非常宝贵的，极为贵重的 | |
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percolated
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| v.滤( percolate的过去式和过去分词 )；渗透；（思想等）渗透；渗入 | |
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25
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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26
reek
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| v.发出臭气；n.恶臭 | |
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27
semblance
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| n.外貌，外表 | |
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surgical
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| adj.外科的，外科医生的，手术上的 | |
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29
eyelid
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| n.眼睑，眼皮 | |
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30
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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31
ailment
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| n.疾病，小病 | |
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32
influenza
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| n.流行性感冒，流感 | |
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33
depicted
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| 描绘，描画( depict的过去式和过去分词 )； 描述 | |
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34
malnutrition
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| n.营养不良 | |
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35
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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36
glands
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| n.腺( gland的名词复数 ) | |
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37
fen
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| n.沼泽，沼池 | |
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38
woes
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| 困境( woe的名词复数 )； 悲伤； 我好苦哇； 某人就要倒霉 | |
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comely
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| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
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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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41
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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43
bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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44
binding
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| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
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ailments
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| 疾病（尤指慢性病），不适( ailment的名词复数 ) | |
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smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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abominably
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| adv. 可恶地，可恨地，恶劣地 | |
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48
kerosene
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| n.(kerosine)煤油，火油 | |
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49
strapping
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| adj. 魁伟的, 身材高大健壮的 n. 皮绳或皮带的材料, 裹伤胶带, 皮鞭 动词strap的现在分词形式 | |
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50
totter
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| v.蹒跚， 摇摇欲坠；n.蹒跚的步子 | |
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51
tottering
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| adj.蹒跚的，动摇的v.走得或动得不稳( totter的现在分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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52
interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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53
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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56
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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57
pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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58
tuberculosis
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| n.结核病，肺结核 | |
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59
spinal
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| adj.针的，尖刺的，尖刺状突起的；adj.脊骨的，脊髓的 | |
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displacement
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| n.移置，取代，位移，排水量 | |
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61
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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62
ailing
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| v.生病 | |
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63
abounding
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| adj.丰富的，大量的v.大量存在，充满，富于( abound的现在分词 ) | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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67
hygiene
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| n.健康法，卫生学 （a.hygienic） | |
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68
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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69
eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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71
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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72
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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73
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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74
embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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75
scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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76
percolating
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| n.渗透v.滤( percolate的现在分词 )；渗透；（思想等）渗透；渗入 | |
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77
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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78
chattel
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| n.动产；奴隶 | |
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79
chattels
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| n.动产，奴隶( chattel的名词复数 ) | |
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80
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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81
mule
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| n.骡子，杂种，执拗的人 | |
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82
schooling
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| n.教育；正规学校教育 | |
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83
jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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84
frugal
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| adj.节俭的，节约的，少量的，微量的 | |
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85
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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86
coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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87
eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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88
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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89
thrift
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| adj.节约，节俭；n.节俭，节约 | |
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90
excellence
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| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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91
economist
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| n.经济学家，经济专家，节俭的人 | |
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92
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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93
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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94
disquieting
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| adj.令人不安的，令人不平静的v.使不安，使忧虑，使烦恼( disquiet的现在分词 ) | |
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95
punctilious
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| adj.谨慎的，谨小慎微的 | |
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96
etiquette
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| n.礼仪，礼节；规矩 | |
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97
vernacular
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| adj.地方的，用地方语写成的；n.白话；行话；本国语；动植物的俗名 | |
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98
cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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99
assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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100
bad-tempered
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| adj.脾气坏的 | |
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101
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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102
millet
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| n.小米，谷子 | |
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103
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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104
wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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105
comeliness
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| n. 清秀, 美丽, 合宜 | |
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106
wanes
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| v.衰落( wane的第三人称单数 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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107
eminently
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| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
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108
insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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109
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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110
commiserated
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| v.怜悯，同情( commiserate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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111
irate
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| adj.发怒的，生气 | |
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112
abetted
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| v.教唆（犯罪）( abet的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；怂恿；支持 | |
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113
repels
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| v.击退( repel的第三人称单数 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
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114
prostration
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| n. 平伏, 跪倒, 疲劳 | |
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115
brazen
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| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
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