The superintendency of the Mississippi Valley Woolen1 Mills was a position which exactly suited Fred Macdonald, and it gave him occasion for the expenditure2 of whatever superfluous3 energy he found himself possessed4 of, yet it did not engross5 his entire attention. The faculty6 which the busiest of young men have for finding time in which to present themselves, well clothed and unbusiness-like, to at least one young woman, is as remarkable7 and admirable as it is inexplicable8. The evenings which did not find Fred in Parson Wedgewell's parlor9 were few indeed, and if, when he was with Esther, he did not talk quite as sentimentally10 as he had done in the earlier days of his engagement, and if he talked business very frequently, the change did not seem distasteful to the lady herself. For the business of which he talked was, in the main, a sort which loving women have for ages recognized as the inevitable11, and to which they have subjected themselves with a unanimity12 which deserves the gratitude13 of all humanity. Fred talked of a cottage which he might enter without first knocking at the door, and of a partnership14 which should be unlimited15; if he learned, in the course of successive conversations, that even in partnerships16 of the most extreme order many compromises are absolutely necessary, the lesson was one which improved his character in the ratio in which it abased17 his pride. The cottage grew as rapidly as the mill, and on his returns from various trips for machinery18 there came with Fred's freight certain packages which prevented their owner from appearing so completely the absorbed businessman which he flattered himself that he seemed. Then the partnership was formed one evening in Parson Wedgewell's own church, in the presence of a host of witnesses, Fred appearing as self-satisfied and radiant as the gainer in such transactions always does, while Esther's noble face and drooping19 eyes showed beyond doubt who it was that was the giver.
As the weeks succeeded each other after the wedding, however, no acquaintance of the couple could wonder whether the gainer or the giver was the happier. Fred improved rapidly, as the schoolboy improves; but Esther's graces were already of mature growth, and rejoiced in their opportunity for development. Though she could not have explained how it happened, she could not but notice that maidens20 regarded her wonderingly, wives contemplated21 her wistfully, frowns departed and smiles appeared when she approached people who were usually considered prosaic22. Yet shadows sometimes stole over her face, when she looked at certain of her old acquaintances, and the cause thereof soon took a development which was anything but pleasing to her husband.
"Fred," said Esther one evening, "it makes me real unhappy sometimes to think of the good wives there are who are not as happy as I am. I think of Mrs. Moshier and Mrs. Crayme, and the only reason that I can see is, their husbands drink."
"I guess you're right, Ettie," said Fred. "They didn't begin their domestic tyranny in advance, as you did—bless you for it."
"But why don't their husbands stop?" asked Esther, too deeply interested in her subject to notice her husband's compliment. "They must see what they're doing, and how cruel it all is."
"They're too far gone to stop; I suppose that's the reason," said Fred. "It hasn't been easy work for me to keep my promise, Ettie, and I'm a young man; Moshier and Crayme are middle-aged23 men, and liquor is simply necessary to them."
"That dreadful old Bunley wasn't too old to reform, it seems," said Esther. "Fred, I believe one reason is that no one has asked them to stop. See how good Harry24 Wainwright has been since he found that so many people were interested in him that day!"
"Ye—es," drawled Fred, evidently with a suspicion of what was coming, and trying to change the subject by suddenly burying himself in his memorandum-book. But this ruse25 did not succeed, for Esther crossed the room to where Fred sat, placed her hands on his shoulders, and a kiss on his forehead, and exclaimed:
"Fred, you're the proper person to reform those two men!"
"Oh, Ettie," groaned26 Fred, "you're entirely27 mistaken. Why, they'd laugh right in my face, if they didn't get angry and knock me down. Reformers want to be older men, better men, men like your father, for instance, if people are to listen to them."
"Father says they need to be men who understand the nature of those they are talking to," replied Esther; and you once told me that you understood Moshier and Crayme perfectly28."
"But just think of what they are, Ettie," pleaded Fred. "Moshier is a contractor29, and Crayme's a steamboat captain; such men never reform, though they always are good fellows. Why, if I were to speak to either of them on the subject, they'd laugh in my face, or curse me. The only way I was able to make peace with them for stopping drinking myself, was to say that I did it to please my wife."
"Did they accept that as sufficient excuse?" asked Esther.
"Yes," said Fred reluctantly, and biting his lips over this slip of his tongue.
"Then you've set them a good example, and I can't believe its effect will be lost," said Esther.
"I sincerely hope it won't," said Fred, very willing to seem a reformer at heart, "nobody would be gladder than I to see those fellows with wives as happy as mine seems to be."
"Then why don't you follow it up, Fred, dear, and make sure of your hopes being realized? You can't imagine how much happier I would be if I could meet those dear women without feeling that I had to hide the joy that's so hard to keep to myself."
The conversation continued with considerable strain to Fred's amiability30; but his sophistry31 was no match for his wife's earnestness, and he was finally compelled to promise that he would make an appeal to Crayme, with whom he had a business engagement, on the arrival of Crayme's boat, the Excellence32.
Before the whistles of the steamer were next heard, however, Esther learned something of the sufferings of would-be reformers, and found cause to wonder who was to endure most that Mrs. Crayme should have a sober husband; for Fred was alternately cross, moody33, abstracted, and inattentive, and even sullenly34 remarked at his breakfast-table one morning that he shouldn't be sorry if the Excellence were to blow up, and leave Mrs. Crayme to find her happiness in widowhood. But no such luck befell the lady: the whistle-signals of the Excellence were again heard in the river, and the nature of Fred's business with the captain made it unadvisable for Fred to make an excuse for leaving the boat unvisited.
It did seem to Fred Macdonald as if everything conspired35 to make his task as hard as it could possibly be. Crayme was already under the influence of more liquor than was necessary to his well-being36, and the boat carried as passengers a couple of men, who, though professional gamblers, Crayme found very jolly company when they were not engaged in their business calling. Besides, Captain Crayme was running against time with an opposition37 boat which had just been put upon the river, and he appreciated the necessity of having the boat's bar well stocked and freely opened to whoever along the river was influential38 in making or marring the reputation of steamboats. Fred finally got the captain into his own room, however, and made a freight contract so absent-mindedly that the sagacious captain gained an immense advantage over him; then he acted so awkwardly, and looked so pale, that the captain suggested chills, and prescribed brandy. Fred smiled feebly, and replied,
"No, thank you, Sam; brandy's at the bottom of the trouble. I"—here Fred made a tremendous attempt to rally himself—"I want you to swear off, Sam."
The astonishment39 of Captain Crayme was marked enough to be alarming at first; then the ludicrous feature of Fred's request struck him so forcibly that he burst into a laugh before whose greatness Fred trembled and shrank.
"Well, by thunder!" exclaimed the captain, when he recovered his breath; "if that isn't the best thing I ever heard yet! The idea of a steamboat captain swearing off his whisky! Say, Fred, don't you want me to join the Church? I forgot that you'd married a preacher's daughter, or I wouldn't have been so puzzled over your white face to-day. Sam Crayme brought down to cold water! Wouldn't the boys along the river get up a sweet lot of names for me—the 'Cold-water Captain,' 'Psalm-singing Sammy!' and then, when an editor or any other visitor came aboard, wouldn't I look the thing, hauling out glasses and a pitcher40 of water! Say, Fred, does your wife let you drink tea and coffee?"
"Sam!" exclaimed Fred, springing to his feet, "if you don't stop slanting41 at my wife, I'll knock you down."
"Good!" said the captain, without exhibiting any signs of trepidation42. "Now you talk like yourself again. I beg your pardon, old fellow; you know I was only joking, but it is too funny. You'll have to take a trip or two with me again, though, and be reformed."
"Not any," said Fred, resuming his chair; "take your wife along, and reform yourself."
"Look here, now, young man," said the captain, "you're cracking on too much steam. Honestly, Fred, I've kept a sharp eye on you for two or three months, and I am right glad you can let whisky alone. I've seen times when I wished I were in your boots; but steamboats can't be run without liquor, however it may be with woolen mills."
"That's all nonsense," said Fred. "You get trade because you run your boat on time, charge fair prices, and deliver your freight in good order. Who gives you business because you drink and treat?"
The captain, being unable to recall any shipper of the class alluded43 to by Fred, changed his course.
"'Tisn't so much that," said he; "it's a question of reputation. How would I feel to go ashore44 at Pittsburgh or Louisville or Cincinnati, and refuse to drink with anybody? Why, 'twould ruin me. It's different with you who don't have to meet anybody but religious old farmers. Besides, you've just been married."
"And you've been married for five years," said Fred, with a sudden sense of help at hand. "How do you suppose your wife feels?"
Captain Crayme's jollity subsided45 a little, but with only a little hesitation46 he replied:
"Oh! she's used to it; she doesn't mind it."
"You're the only person in town that thinks so, Sam," said Fred.
Captain Crayme got up and paced his little stateroom two or three times, with a face full of uncertainty47. At last he replied:
"Well, between old friends, Fred, I don't think so very strongly myself. Hang it! I wish I'd been brought up a preacher, or something of the kind, so I wouldn't have had business ruining my chances of being the right sort of a family man. Emily don't like my drinking, and I've promised to look up some other business; but 'tisn't easy to get out of steamboating when you've got a good boat and a first-rate trade. Once she felt so awfully48 about it that I did swear off—don't tell anybody, for God's sake! but I did. I had to look out for my character along the river, though; so I swore off on the sly, and played sick. I'd give my orders to the mates and clerks from my bed in here, and then I'd lock myself in, and read novels and the Bible to keep from thinking. 'Twas awful dry work all around; but 'whole hog49 or none' is my style, you know. There was fun in it, though, to think of doing something that no other captain on the river ever did. But thunder! by the time night came, I was so tired of loafing that I wrapped a blanket around my head and shoulders, like a Hoosier, sneaked50 out the outer door here, and walked the guards, between towns; but I was so frightened for fear some one would know me that the walk did me more harm than good. And blue! why a whole cargo51 of indigo52 would have looked like a snowstorm alongside of my feelings the second day; 'pon my word, Fred, I caught myself crying in the afternoon, just before dark, and I couldn't find out what for, either. I tell you I was scared, and things got worse as time spun53 along; the dreams I had that night made me howl, and I felt worse yet when daylight came along again. Toward the next night I was just afraid to go to sleep; so I made up my mind to get well, go on duty, and dodge54 everybody that it seemed I ought to drink with. Why, the Lord bless your soul! the first time we shoved off from a town I walked up to the bar just as I always did after leaving towns; the barkeeper set out my particular bottle naturally enough, knowing nothing about my little game; I poured my couple of fingers, and dropped it down as innocent as a lamb before I knew what I was doing. By George! my boy, 'twas like-opening the lock-gates; I was just heavenly gay before morning. There was one good thing about it, though—I never told Emily I was going to swear off; I was going to surprise her, so I had the disappointment all to myself. Maybe she isn't as happy as your wife; but whatever else I've done, or not done, I've never lied to her."
"It's a pity you hadn't promised her then, before you tried your experiment," said Fred. The captain shook his head gravely, and replied:
"I guess not; why, I'd have either killed somebody or killed myself if I'd gone on a day or two longer. I s'pose I'd have got along better if I'd had anybody to keep me company, or reason with me like a schoolmaster; but I hadn't. I didn't know anybody that I dared trust with a secret like that."
"I hadn't reformed then, eh?" queried55 Fred.
"You? why you're one of the very fellows I dodged56! Just as I got aboard the boat—I came down late, on purpose—I saw you out aft. I tell you, I was under my blankets, with a towel wrapped around my jaw57, in about one minute, and was just a-praying that you hadn't seen me come aboard."
Fred laughed, but his laughter soon made place for a look of tender solicitude58. The unexpected turn that had been reached in the conversation he had so dreaded59, and the sympathy which had been awakened60 in him by Crayme's confidence and openness, temporarily made of Fred Macdonald a man with whom Fred himself had never before been acquainted. A sudden idea struck him.
"Sam," said he, "try it over again, and I'll stay by you. I'll nurse you, crack jokes, fight off the blues61 for you, keep your friends away. I'll even break your neck for you, if you like, seeing it's you, if it'll keep you straight."
"Will you, though?" said the captain, with a look of admiration62, undisguised except by wonder. "You're the first friend I ever had, then. By thunder! how marrying Ettie Wedgewell did improve you, Fred! But," and the captain's face lengthened63 again, "there's a fellow's reputation to be considered, and where'll mine be after it gets around that I've sworn off?"
"Reputation be hanged!" exclaimed Fred. "Lose it, for your wife's sake. Besides, you'll make reputation instead of lose it: you'll be as famous as the Red River Raft, or the Mammoth64 Cave—the only thing of the kind west of the Alleghanies. As for the boys, tell them I've bet you a hundred that you can't stay off your liquor for a year, and that, you're not the man to take a dare."
"That sounds like business," exclaimed the captain springing to his feet.
"Let me draw up a pledge," said Fred, eagerly, drawing, pen and ink toward him.
"No, you don't, my boy," said the captain, gently, and pushing Fred out of the room and upon the guards. "Emily shall do that. Below there!—Perkins, I've got to go uptown for an hour; see if you can't pick up freight to pay laying-up expenses somehow. Fred, go home and get your traps; 'How's the accepted time,' as your father-in-law has dinged at me, many a Sunday, from the pulpit."
As Sam Crayne strode toward the body of the town, his business instincts took strong hold of his sentiments, in the manner natural alike to saints and sinners, and he laid a plan of operations against whisky which was characterized by the apparent recklessness but actual prudence65 which makes for glory in steamboat captains, as it does in army commanders. As was his custom in business, he first drove at full speed upon the greatest obstacles; so it came to pass he burst into his own house, threw his arm around his wife with more than ordinary tenderness, and then looking into her eyes with a daring born of utter desperation, said:
"Emily, I came back to sign the strongest temperance-pledge that you can possibly draw up; Fred Macdonald wanted to write out one, but I told him that nobody but you should do it; you've earned the right to, poor girl." No such duty and surprise having ever before come hand-in-hand to Mrs. Crayme, she acted as every true woman will imagine that she herself would have done under similar circumstances, and this action made it not so easy as it might otherwise have been to see just where the pen and ink were, or to prevent the precious document, when completed, from being disfigured by peculiar66 blots67 which were neither fingermarks nor ink-spots, yet which in shape and size suggested both of these indications of unneatness. Mrs. Crayme was not an adept68 at literary composition, and, being conscious of her own deficiency, she begged that a verbal pledge might be substituted; but her husband was firm.
"A contract won't steer69 worth a cent unless it's in writing, Emily," said he, looking over his wife's shoulder as she wrote. "Gracious, girl, you're making it too thin; any greenhorn could sail right through that and all around it. Here, let me have it." And Crayme wrote, dictating70 aloud to himself as he did so, "And the—party—of the first part—hereby agrees to—do everything—else that the—spirit of this—agreement—seems to the party—of the second—part to—indicate or—imply." This he read over to his wife, saying:
"That's the way we fix contracts that aren't ship-shape, Emily; a steamboat couldn't be run in any other way." Then Crayme wrote at the foot of the paper, "Sam Crayme, Capt. Str. Excellence" surveyed the document with evident pride, and handed it to his wife, saying:
"Now, you see, you've got me so I can't ever get out of it by trying to make out that 'twas some other Sam Crayme that you reformed."
"Oh husband!" said Mrs. Crayme, throwing her arms about the captain's neck, "don't talk in that dreadful business way! I'm too happy to bear it. I want to go with you on this trip."
The captain shrank away from his wife's arms, and a cold perspiration71 started all over him as he exclaimed:
"Oh, don't, little girl! Wait till next trip. There's an unpleasant set of passengers aboard; the barometer72 points to rainy weather, so you'd have to stay in the cabin all the time; our cook is sick, and his cubs73 serve up the most infernal messes; we're light of freight, and have got to stop at every warehouse74 on the river, and the old boat'll be either shrieking75, or bumping, or blowing off steam the whole continual time."
Mrs. Crayme's happiness had been frightening some of her years away, and her smile carried Sam himself back to his pre-marital period as she said:
"Never mind the rest; I see you don't want me to go," and then she became Mrs. Crayme again as she said, pressing her face closely to her husband's breast, "but I hope you won't get any freight, anywhere, so you can get home all the sooner."
Then the captain called on Dr. White, and announced such a collection of symptoms that the doctor grew alarmed, insisted on absolute quiet, and conveyed Crayme in his own carriage to the boat, saw him into his berth76, and gave to Fred Macdonald a multitude of directions and cautions, the sober recording77 of which upon paper was of great service in saving Fred from suffering over the Quixotic aspect which the whole project had begun, in his mind, to take on. He felt ashamed even to look squarely into Crayme's eye, and his mind was greatly relieved when the captain turned his face to the wall and exclaimed:
"Fred, for goodness' sake get out of here; I feel enough like a baby now, without having a nurse alongside. I'll do well enough for a few hours; just look in once in a while."
During the first day of the trip, Crayme made no trouble for himself or Fred; under the friendly shelter of night, the two men had a two-hour chat, which was alternately humorous, business-like, and retrospective, and then Crayme fell asleep. The next day was reasonably pleasant out of doors, so the captain wrapped himself in a blanket and sat in an extension-chair on the guards, where with solemn face he received some condolences which went far to keep him in good humor after the sympathizers had departed. On the second night the captain was restless, and the two men played cards. On the third day the captain's physique reached the bottom of its stock of patience, and protested indignantly at the withdrawal78 of its customary stimulus79; and it acted with more consistency80, though no less ugliness, than the human mind does when under excitement and destitute81 of control. The captain grew terribly despondent82, and Fred found ample use for all the good stories he knew. Some of these amused the captain greatly, but after one of them he sighed.
"Poor old Billy Hockess told me that the only time I ever heard it before, and didn't we have a glorious time that night! He'd just put all his money into the Yenesei—that blew up and took him with it only a year afterward83—and he gave us a new kind of punch he'd got the hang of when he went East for the boat's carpets. 'Twas made of two bottles of brandy, one whisky, two rum, one gin, two sherry, and four claret, with guava jelly, and lemon peel that had been soaking in curacoa and honey for a month. It looks kind of weak when you think about it, but there were only six of us in the party, and it went to the spot by the time we got through. Golly, but didn't we make Rome howl that night!"
Fred shuddered84, and experimented upon his friend with song; he was rewarded by hearing the captain hum an occasional accompaniment; but, as Fred got fairly into a merry Irish song about one Terry O'Rann, and uttered the lines in which the poet states that the hero
"—took whisky punch Ivery night for his lunch,"
the captain put such a world of expression into a long-drawn sigh that Fred began to feel depressed85 himself; besides, songs were not numerous in Fred's repertoire86, and those in which there was no allusion87 to drinking could be counted on half his fingers. Then he borrowed the barkeeper's violin, and played the airs which had been his favorites in the days of his courtship, until Crayme exclaimed:
"Say, Fred, we're not playing church; give us something that don't bring all of a fellow's dead friends along with it."
Fred reddened, swung his bow viciously, and dashed into "Natchez Under the Hill," an old air which would have delighted Offenbach, but which will never appear in a collection of classical music.
"Ah! that's something like music," exclaimed Captain Crayme, as Fred paused suddenly to repair a broken string. "I never hear that but I think of Wesley Treepoke, that used to run the Quitman; went afterward to the Rising Planet, when the Quitman's owners put her on a new line as an opposition boat. Wess and I used to work things so as to make Louisville at the same time—he going up, I going down, and then turn about—and we always had a glorious night of it, with one or two other lively boys that we'd pick up. And Wess had a fireman that could fiddle88 off old 'Natchez' in a way that would just make a corpse89 dance till its teeth rattled90, and that fireman would always be called in just as we'd got to the place where you can't tell what sort of whisky 'tis you're drinking; and I tell you, 'twas so heavenly that a fellow could forgive the last boat that beat him on the river, or stole a landing from him. And such whisky as Wess kept! used to go cruising around the back country, sampling little lots run out of private stills. He'd always find nectar, you'd better believe. Poor old boy! the tremens took him off at last. He hove his pilot overboard just before he died, and put a bullet into Pete Langston, his second clerk—they were both trying to hold him, you see—but they never laid it up against him. I wish I knew what became of the whiskey he had on hand when he walked off—no, I don't either; what am I thinking about? But I do, though—hanged if I don't!"
Fred grew pale: he had heard of drunkards growing delirious91 upon ceasing to drink; he had heard of men who, in periods of aberration92, were impelled93 by the motive94 of the last act or recollection which strongly impressed them; what if the captain should suddenly become delirious, and try to throw him overboard or shoot him? Fred determined95 to get the captain at once upon the guards—no, into the cabin, where there would be no sight of water to suggest anything dreadful—and search his room for pistols. But the captain objected to being moved into the cabin.
"The boys," said the captain, alluding96 to the gamblers, "are mighty97 sharp in the eye, and like as not they'd see through my little game, and then where'd my reputation be? Speaking of the boys reminds me of Harry Genang, that cleaned out that rich Kentucky planter at bluff98 one night, and then swore off gambling99 for life, and gave a good-by supper aboard the boat. 'Twas just at the time when Prince Imperial Champagne100 came out, and the whole supper was made of that splendid stuff. I guess I must have put away four bottles, and if I'd known how much he'd ordered, I could have carried away a couple more. I've always been sorry I didn't."
Fred wondered if there was any subject of conversation which would not suggest liquor to the captain; he even brought himself to ask if Crayme had seen the new Methodist Church at Barton since it had been finished.
"Oh, yes," said the captain; "I started to walk Moshier home one night, after we'd punished a couple of bottles of old Crow whisky at our house, and he caved in all of a sudden, and I laid him out on the steps of that very church till I could get a carriage. Those were my last two bottles of Crow, too; it's too bad the way the good things of this life paddle off."
The captain raised himself in his berth, sat on the edge thereof, stood up, stared out of the window, and began to pace his room with his head down and his hands behind his back. Little by little he raised his head, drooped101 his hands, flung himself into a chair, beat the devil's tattoo102 on the table, sprang up excitedly, and exclaimed:
"I'm going back on all the good times I ever had."
"You're only getting ready to try a new kind, Sam," said Fred.
"Well, I'm going back on my friends."
"Not on all of them; the dead ones would pat you on the back, if they got a chance."
"A world without whisky looks infernally dismal103 to a fellow that isn't half done living."
"It looks first-rate to a fellow that hasn't got any backdown in him."
"Curse you! I wish I'd made you back down when you first talked temperance to me."
"Go ahead! Then curse your wife—don't be afraid; you've been doing it ever since you married her."
Crayme flew at Macdonald's throat; the younger man grappled the captain and threw him into his bunk104. The captain struggled and glared like a tiger; Fred gasped105 between the special efforts dictated106 by self-preservation:
"Sam, I—promised to—to see you—through—and I'm—going to—do it, if—if I have to—break your neck."
The captain made one tremendous effort; Fred braced107 one foot against the table, put a knee on the captain's breast, held both the captain's wrists tightly, looked full into the captain's eyes, and breathed a small prayer—for his own safety. For a moment or two, perhaps longer, the captain strained violently, and then relaxed all effort, and cried:
"Fred, you've whipped me!"
"Nonsense! whip yourself," exclaimed Fred, "if you're going to stop drinking."
The captain turned his face to the wall and said nothing; but he seemed to be so persistently108 swallowing something that Fred suspected a secreted109 bottle, and moved an investigation110 so suddenly that the captain had not time in which to wipe his eyes.
"Hang it, Fred," said he, rather brokenly; "how can what's babyish in men whip a full-grown steamboat captain?"
"The same way that it whipped a full-grown woolen-mill manager once, I suppose, old boy," said Macdonald.
"Is that so?" exclaimed the captain, astonishment getting so sudden an advantage over shame that he turned over and looked his companion in the face. "Why—how are you, Fred? I feel as if I was just being introduced. Didn't anybody else help?"
"Yes," said Fred, "a woman; but—you've got a wife, too."
Crayme fell back on his pillow and sighed. "If I could only think about her, Fred! But I can't; whisky's the only thing that comes into my mind."
"Can't think about her!" exclaimed Fred; "why, are you acquainted with her yet, I wonder? I'll never forget the evening you were married."
"That was jolly, wasn't it?" said Crayme. "I'll bet such sherry was never opened west of the Alleghanies before or—"
"Hang your sherry!" roared Fred; "it's your wife that I remember. You couldn't see her, of course, for you were standing111 alongside of her; but the rest of us—well, I wished myself in your place, that's all."
"Did you, though?" said Crayme, with a smile which seemed rather proud; "well, I guess old Major Pike did too, for he drank to her about twenty times that evening. Let's see; she wore a white moire antique, I think they called it, and it cost twenty-one dollars a dozen, and there was at least one broken bottle in every—"
"And I made up my mind she was throwing herself away, in marrying a fellow that would be sure to care more for whisky than he did for her," interrupted Fred.
"Ease off, Fred, ease off now; there wasn't any whisky there; I tried to get some of the old Twin Tulip brand for punch, but—"
"But the devil happened to be asleep, and you got a chance to behave yourself," said Fred.
Crayme looked appealingly. "Fred," said he, "tell me about her yourself; I'll take it as a favor."
"Why, she looked like a lot of lilies and roses," said Fred, "except that you couldn't tell where one left off and the other began. As she came into the room I felt like getting down on my knees. Old Bayle was telling me a vile112 story just then, but the minute she came in he stopped as if he was shot."
"He wouldn't drink a drop that evening," said Crayme, "and I've puzzled my wits over that for five years—"
"She looked so proud of you" interrupted Fred, with some impatience113.
"Did she?" asked Crayme. "Well, I guess I was a good-looking fellow in those days; I know Pike came up to me once, with a glass in his hand, and said that he ought to drink to me, for I was the finest-looking groom114 he'd ever seen. He was so tight, though, that he couldn't hold his glass steady; and though you know I never had a drop of stingy blood in me, it did go to my heart to see him spill that gorgeous sherry."
"She looked very proud of you," Fred repeated; "but I can't see why, for I've never seen her do it since."
"You will, though, hang you!" exclaimed the captain. "Get out of here! I can think about her now, and I don't want anybody else around. No rudeness meant, you know, Fred."
Fred Macdonald retired115 quietly, taking with him the keys of both doors, and feeling more exhausted116 than he had been on any Saturday night since the building of the mill.
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woolen
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| adj.羊毛(制)的；毛纺的 | |
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expenditure
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| n.(时间、劳力、金钱等)支出；使用，消耗 | |
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superfluous
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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engross
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| v.使全神贯注 | |
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faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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9
parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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sentimentally
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| adv.富情感地 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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unanimity
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| n.全体一致，一致同意 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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14
partnership
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| n.合作关系，伙伴关系 | |
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unlimited
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| adj.无限的，不受控制的，无条件的 | |
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partnerships
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| n.伙伴关系( partnership的名词复数 )；合伙人身份；合作关系 | |
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abased
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| 使谦卑( abase的过去式和过去分词 )； 使感到羞耻； 使降低（地位、身份等）； 降下 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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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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21
contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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prosaic
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| adj.单调的，无趣的 | |
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middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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25
ruse
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| n.诡计，计策；诡计 | |
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26
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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28
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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29
contractor
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| n.订约人，承包人，收缩肌 | |
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30
amiability
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| n.和蔼可亲的，亲切的，友善的 | |
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31
sophistry
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| n.诡辩 | |
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32
excellence
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| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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33
moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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34
sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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conspired
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| 密谋( conspire的过去式和过去分词 )； 搞阴谋； （事件等）巧合； 共同导致 | |
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36
well-being
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| n.安康，安乐，幸福 | |
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37
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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38
influential
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| adj.有影响的，有权势的 | |
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39
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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40
pitcher
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| n.(有嘴和柄的)大水罐；(棒球)投手 | |
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41
slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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42
trepidation
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| n.惊恐，惶恐 | |
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43
alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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45
subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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46
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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47
uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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49
hog
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| n.猪；馋嘴贪吃的人；vt.把…占为己有，独占 | |
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50
sneaked
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| v.潜行( sneak的过去式和过去分词 )；偷偷溜走；（儿童向成人）打小报告；告状 | |
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51
cargo
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| n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
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52
indigo
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| n.靛青，靛蓝 | |
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53
spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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54
dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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56
dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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58
solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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59
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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60
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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61
blues
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| n.抑郁，沮丧；布鲁斯音乐 | |
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62
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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63
lengthened
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| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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64
mammoth
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| n.长毛象；adj.长毛象似的，巨大的 | |
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65
prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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66
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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67
blots
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| 污渍( blot的名词复数 )； 墨水渍； 错事； 污点 | |
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68
adept
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| adj.老练的，精通的 | |
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69
steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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70
dictating
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| v.大声讲或读( dictate的现在分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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71
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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72
barometer
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| n.气压表，睛雨表，反应指标 | |
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73
cubs
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| n.幼小的兽，不懂规矩的年轻人( cub的名词复数 ) | |
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74
warehouse
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| n.仓库；vt.存入仓库 | |
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75
shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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76
berth
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| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
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77
recording
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| n.录音，记录 | |
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78
withdrawal
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| n.取回，提款；撤退，撤军；收回，撤销 | |
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79
stimulus
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| n.刺激，刺激物，促进因素，引起兴奋的事物 | |
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80
consistency
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| n.一贯性，前后一致，稳定性；(液体的)浓度 | |
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81
destitute
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| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
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82
despondent
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| adj.失望的，沮丧的，泄气的 | |
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83
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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84
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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85
depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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86
repertoire
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| n.(准备好演出的)节目，保留剧目；(计算机的)指令表，指令系统， <美>(某个人的)全部技能；清单，指令表 | |
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87
allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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88
fiddle
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| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
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89
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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90
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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91
delirious
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| adj.不省人事的，神智昏迷的 | |
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92
aberration
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| n.离开正路，脱离常规，色差 | |
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93
impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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94
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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95
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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96
alluding
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| 提及，暗指( allude的现在分词 ) | |
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97
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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98
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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99
gambling
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| n.赌博；投机 | |
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100
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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101
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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102
tattoo
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| n.纹身，(皮肤上的)刺花纹；vt.刺花纹于 | |
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103
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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104
bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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105
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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106
dictated
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| v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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107
braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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108
persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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109
secreted
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| v.（尤指动物或植物器官）分泌( secrete的过去式和过去分词 )；隐匿，隐藏 | |
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110
investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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111
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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112
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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113
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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114
groom
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| vt.给（马、狗等）梳毛，照料，使...整洁 | |
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115
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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116
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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