I had made the sudden leap to the southern end of the Empire as a starting-point of a tramp across it instead of reversing the process in the hope that here at last I should find “something doing,” some remnants of excitement. Munich had just been snatched from the hands of the Sparticists—or the Bolshevists; the distinction between the two dreaded16 groups is not very clear in the German mind. Leviné, the half-mad Russian Jew who was reputed the organizing spirit of the revolt, was still dodging18 from one hiding-place to another somewhere in the vicinity. To read the breathless cables to the foreign press was to fancy Munich under a constant hail of shrapnel and machine-gun bullets. Ours was the second passenger-train that had ventured into the city in weeks. All Bavaria was blazing with huge posters, often blood-red in color, headed by the dread17 word “Standrecht” in letters to be seen a hundred yards away, proclaiming martial19 law and threatening sudden and dire20 fate to any one who strayed from the straight and narrow path of absolute submission21 to the “government-faithful” troops that were still pouring in from the north. Surely here, if anywhere, was a chance for a wandering American to get into trouble.
Like so many dreadful things, however, martial law and beleaguered22 cities prove more terrible at a distance than on the spot. True, a group of soldiers in full fighting equipment held the station exit; but their only act of belligerency toward the invading throng was to hand each of us a red 250slip granting permission to walk the streets until two in the morning. A bedraggled hotel directly across the way spared me that necessity. The information its registry-pad required of guests was more exacting23 than its interior aspect, but neither here nor at the station exit was there any demand for proof of identity.
Toward midnight, as I was falling asleep, a score of erratically24 spaced shots and the brief rat-a-tat of a machine-gun sounded somewhere not far away. Their direction was too uncertain, however, to make it worth while to accept the permission granted by the red slip. In the morning the city was thronged25 with the business-bent quite as if disorders26 had never dodged27 in and out of its wide streets. The main hotels, however, had been partly taken over by the staffs of the newly arrived troops, and pulsated28 with field gray. At the doors very young men in iron hats leaned their fixed29 bayonets in the crook30 of an elbow while they examined the Ausweis with which each civilian31 was supposed to prove his identity. I entered several of them in the vain hope that the flash of my American passport would “start something.” The youths in uniform handed it back each time without so much as a flicker32 of curiosity on their rather dull faces. Inside, another boy volunteer ran his hands hastily over me in quest of concealed33 weapons; but not even the most obviously harmless Bavarian escaped that attention.
The staff evidently had no secrets from the world at large. At any rate, I wandered into a dozen hotel rooms that had been turned into offices and idled about undisturbed while majors gave captains their orders for the day and lieutenants35 explained to sergeants36 the latest commands from higher up. What had become of that stern discipline and the far-famed secrecy37 of the German army? The soldiers of democratic America were automatons38 in the presence of their officers compared with these free-and-easy 251youths in gray; over in Posen the Poles were manyfold more exacting. Had I been a spy, there were several opportunities to have pocketed papers strewn about tables and improvised39 desks. When at last an officer looked up at me inquiringly I explained my presence by asking for written permission to take photographs within the beleaguered city, and it was granted at once without question.
Berlin had been sinister40 of aspect; Munich was bland41, a softer, gentler, less verboten land. Its citizens were not merely courteous42; they were aggressively good-natured, their cheerfulness bubbled over on all who came in contact with them. It was almost as easy to distinguish a native from the stiff Prussians who had descended43 upon them as if the two groups had worn distinctive44 uniforms. Yet Munich had by no means escaped war-time privations. Long lines of hollow-eyed women flowed sluggishly45 in and out of under-stocked food-shops; still longer ones, chiefly though not entirely male, crept forward to the door of the rare tobacconists prepared to receive them, and emerged clutching two half-length cigarettes each, their faces beaming as if they had suddenly come into an unexpected inheritance. They were good-natured in spite of what must have been the saddest cut of all from the Bavarian point of view—the weakness and high cost of their beloved beer. In those vast underground Bierhallen for which Munich had been far-famed for centuries, where customers of both sexes and any age that can toddle46 pick out a stone mug and serve themselves, the price per liter had risen to the breathless height of thirty-four pfennigs. As if this calamity47 were not of itself enough to disrupt the serenity48 of the Bavarian temperament49, the foaming50 beverage51 had sunk to a mere shadow of its former robust52 strength.
In the “cellar” of the beautiful Rathaus a buxom53 barmaid reminded me that Tuesday and Friday were meatless days in Germany. The fish she served instead brought me the 252added information that Munich is far from the sea. My fellow-sufferers constituted a truly democratic gathering54. The still almost portly mayor chuckled55 with his cronies at a table barely visible through the smoke-screened forest of massive pillars. Collarless laborers56 clinked their mugs, quite unawed by the presence of city councilors or “big merchants.” A leather-skinned old peasant sat down opposite me and opened conversation at once, with no suggestion of that aloofness57 of the north. From the rucksack that had slipped from his shoulders he took a half-loaf of dull-brown peasant bread and a square of boiled smoked pork, ordering nothing but a half-bottle of wine. Beer, he explained, had fallen too low in its estate to be worthy58 of his patronage59, at least city beer. In his village, three hours away, he could still endure it. Ach, how the famous beer of Munich had deteriorated60! How far away those happy days seemed! And to think of paying three marks for a half-bottle of wine! Why, in the good old days.... And this dinner of mine—a plate of fish bones, some stewed61 grass, city bread, and city beer—worthless stuff—potatoes, to be sure, but not enough to keep a man’s legs under him for half the afternoon—and a bill of more than eight marks! I restrained my impulse to tell him of that prize dinner in Berlin.
He had not always been a peasant. Twenty years before he had started a factory—roof tiles and bricks. But in 1915 he had gone back to the farm. At least a Bauer got something to eat. The peace terms? What else could Germany do but sign? If the shoe had been on the other foot the war lords in Berlin would have demanded as much or more. If they hadn’t wanted war in the first place! Wilhelm and all his crowd should have quit two or three years ago while the quitting was good. What did it all matter, anyway, so long as order returned and the peasants could work without being pestered62 with all this military 253service, and the taxes, not to mention the “hamsterers,” the pests! American, was I? He had noticed I was not a Bavarian. (So had I, straining my ears to catch the meaning of his atrocious dialect.) He had taken me for a man from the north, a Hamburger perhaps. American? They say that is a rich country. He had read somewhere that even the peasants sometimes had automobiles63! How about the beer? Deteriorating64 there, too, eh? Ach, this war! Going to abolish beer! What an insane idea! What will people live on? They can’t afford wine, and Schnapps is not good for a man in the long run, and too strong for the women and children. Well, he must be getting back to his beet-field. Glad to have met an American. He had often heard of them. Good day and a happy journey.
Troops were still pouring into Munich. That afternoon what before the war would have looked to Americans like a large army marched in column of fours along the bank of the swift, pale-blue Isar and swung in through the heart of town. There were infantry65, machine-gun, and light-artillery sections, both horse- and motor-drawn, and from end to end they were decorated with flowers, which clung even to the horses’ bridles66 and peered from the mouths of the cannon67. All the aspect of a conquering army was there, an army that had retaken one of its own cities after decades of occupation by the enemy. Greetings showered upon the columns, a trifle stiff and irresponsive with pride, after the manner of popular heroes; but it was chiefly voiceless greetings, the waving of hands and handkerchiefs, in striking contrast to similar scenes among the French.
The Boy Scouts69 of a year or two ago filled a large portion, possibly a majority, of the ranks. The older men scattered among them bore plainly imprinted70 on their faces the information that they had remained chiefly for lack of ambition or opportunity to re-enter civil life. Their bronzed features were like frames for those of the eager, 254life-tasting youths they surrounded, not so much in color as in their disillusioned71, nothing-new-to-us expressions. All wore on their collars the gold or silver oak-leaves of volunteers for “home and border protection”; an insignia belonging to generals only before the flight of the Kaiser. Rumor72 had it, however, that there were many still held under the old conscription laws, particularly those of Polish blood. The same inarticulate voices whispered that, despite the opinion of Allied73 staffs, Germany still had a million men under arms; on the books they were carried as discharged; in reality they were sustained by the government as “out-of-works” and housed in barracks near enough to arsenals74 or munition75 dumps to equip themselves in a twinkling. What percentage of truth the assertion possessed76 could only have been determined77 by long and deliberate study, for though Munich, like many another city and even the country districts, seemed to swarm78 with soldiers, many of them were so only in outward appearance. Discharged men were permitted to use their uniforms until they were worn out; the mere removal of the shoulder-straps made one a civilian—unlike the soldiers resident in the occupied region, where civilian garb79 of field gray was furnished with the discharged papers—and boys of all ages, in many cases large enough to have the appearance of real soldiers, were as apt to wear the uniform and the red-banded cap without visor as anything else.
The Sparticist uprising in Munich, now crushed, evidently made less trouble on the spot, as usual, than in foreign newspapers. All classes of the population—except perhaps that to which the turn of events had brought the wisdom of silence—admitted that it had been a nuisance, but it had left none of them ashen80 with fear or gaunt with suffering. Indeed, business seemed to have gone on as usual during all but the two or three days of retaking the city. Banks and the larger merchants had been more or less heavily 255levied upon; lawyers and a few other classes whom the new doctrine81 ranked as “parasitic” had found it wise to leave their offices closed; but in the main all agreed that the population at large was never troubled in their homes and seldom on the street. The mistreatment of women, with rumors82 of which foreign newspapers reeked83, was asserted to have been rare, and their “nationalization,” which the cables seem to have announced, had not, so far, at least, been contemplated84. All in all, the Bavarian capital suffered far less than Winnipeg under a similar uprising of like date.
The moving spirit had come from Russia, as already mentioned, with a few local theorists or self-seekers of higher social standing85 as its chief auxiliaries86. The rank and file of the movement were escaped Russian prisoners and Munich’s own out-of-works, together with such disorderly elements as always hover87 about any upheaval88 promising89 loot or unearned gain. But the city’s chief scare seemed to have been its recapture by government troops under orders from Berlin. Then for some fifty hours the center of town was no proper place for those to dally90 who had neglected their insurance premiums91. A hundred more or less of fashionable shop-fronts bore witness to the ease with which a machine-gunner can make a plate-glass look like a transparent92 sieve93 without once cracking it; rival sharpshooters had all but rounded off the corners of a few of the principal buildings. The meek94, plaster-faced Protestant church had been the worst sufferer, as so often happens to the innocent bystander. The most fire-eating Münchener admitted that barter95 and business had lagged in the heart of town during that brief period.
But Munich’s red days had already faded to a memory. Even the assassination96 of hostages, among them some of the city’s most pompous97 citizens, by the fleeing Sparticists was now mentioned in much the same impersonal98 tone 256with which the Swiss might refer to the death of William Tell or an Englishman regret the loss of Kitchener. The blue-and-white flag of Bavaria fluttered again from the staffs that had been briefly99 usurped100 by the red banner of revolt; the dark-blue uniform of the once half-autonomous kingdom again asserted its sway over local matters in the new Volksreich Bayern. At the Deutsches Theater a large audience placidly101 sipping103 its beer set on little shelves before each seat alternately roared and sniffled at the bare-kneed mountaineers in feathered hats and the buxom M?dels who bounced through a home-made but well-done “custom picture” in the local dialect. It was evident that life in Munich was not likely to afford any more excitement than had the apathetic104 north. The atmosphere of the place only helped to confirm the ever-hardening conviction that the German, north or south, east or west, had little real sympathy for revolutions compared with the privilege of pursuing his calling steadily105 and undisturbed. It was high time to take to the road while a faint hope still remained that something might lay in wait for me along the way to put a bit of ginger106 into a journey that had thus far lamentably107 failed to fulfil its promise.
I breakfasted next morning with the German staff. At least I was the only civilian in the palm-decked dining-room where a score of high ranking wearers of the iron cross munched108 their black bread and purple Ersatz marmalade with punctilious109 formality. Away from their men, they seemed to cling as tenaciously110 to the rules of their caste as if disaster had never descended upon it. Each officer who entered the room paused to click his heels twice resoundingly and bow low to his seated fellows, none of whom gave him the slightest attention. It was as truly German a gesture as the salute111 with which every wearer of the horizon blue enters a public eating-place is French.
Nine o’clock had already sounded when I swung over my 257back the rucksack containing my German possessions and struck out toward the north. Now, if ever, was the time for the iron hand of the enemy to fall upon me. Perhaps my mere attempt to leave the city on foot would bring me an adventure. Vain hope! Neither civilians112 nor the endless procession of soldiers gave me any more attention than they did the peasants returning to their rich acres. Two sadly uneventful hours out of town a new promise appeared in the offing. A soldier under a trench113 helmet, armed with a glistening114 fixed bayonet, was patrolling a crossroad. He stepped forward as he caught sight of me, grasped his piece in an alert attitude, stared a moment in my direction, and—turning his back, leaned against a tree and lighted a cigarette. Evidently I should have to fly the Stars and Stripes at my masthead if I hoped to attract attention. Not far beyond stood weather-blackened barracks sufficient to have housed a regiment115. I paused to photograph a company that was falling in. I marched out in front of the jostling throng and took a “close-up” of the lieutenant34 who was dressing116 it. He smiled faintly and stepped to the end of the line to run his eye along it. I refrained from carrying out an impulse to slap him on the back and shout: “Heh, old top! I am an American, just out of the army! What are you going to do about it?” and plodded117 on down the broad highway. How could a city be called beleaguered and a country under martial law if strangers could wander in and out of them at will, photographing as they went?
Fifteen kilometers from the capital I stopped at a crossroads Gasthaus, quite prepared to hear my suggestion of food answered with a sneer118. Two or three youthful ex-soldiers still in uniform sat at one of the bare wooden tables, sipping the inevitable119 half-liter mugs of beer. I ordered one myself, not merely because I was thirsty, but because that is the invariable introduction to any request in a 258Bavarian inn. As the ponderous120 but neat matron set the foaming glass before me with the never-lacking “May it taste well!” I opened preliminaries on the food question, speaking gently, lest so presumptive a request from a total stranger awaken121 the wrath122 of the discharged soldiers. Mine hostess had no such misgivings123. In a voice as loud and penetrating124 as my own had been inarticulate she bade me explain my desires in detail. I huskily whispered eggs, fried eggs, a plebeian125 dish, perhaps, in the land of my birth, but certainly a greater height of luxury in Germany than I had yet attained126. I quail127 still at the audacity128 of that request, which I proffered129 with an elbow on the alert to protect my skull130 from the reply by physical force I more than half expected. Instead she made not a sound, after the manner of Bavarian innkeepesses when taking orders, and faded heavily but noiselessly away in the direction of the kitchen.
A few minutes later I beheld131 two Spiegeleier descending132 upon me, not merely real eggs, but of that year’s vintage. One of them alone might have been an astonishment133; a whole pair of them trotting134 side by side as if the Kaiser had never dreamed how fetching the letters Rex Mundis would look after his name was all but too much for me. I caught myself clinging to the bench under me as one might to the seat of an airplane about to buck135, or whatever it is ships of the air do when they feel skittish136. A whole plateful of boiled potatoes bore the regal couple attendance, and a generous slab137 of almost edible138 bread, quite unlike a city helping139 both in size and quality, brought up the rear. When I reached for a fifty-mark note and asked for the reckoning the hostess went through a laborious140 process in mental arithmetic and announced that, including the two half-liters of beer, I was indebted to the extent of one mk. twenty-seven! In the slang of our school-days, “You could have knocked me over with a feather,” particularly 259as four hours earlier, back in a modest Munich hotel, I had been mulcted twelve marks for an Ersatz breakfast of “coffee, bread, marmalade,” and four very thin slices of ham.
Twenty kilometers out of the city the flat landscape became slightly rolling. Immense fields of mustard planted in narrow rows splashed it here and there with brilliant saffron patches. Now and then an Ersatz bicycle rattled141 by, its rider, like the constant thin procession of pedestrians142, decorated with the inevitable rucksack, more or less full. The women always seemed the more heavily laden143, but no one had the appearance of being burdened, so natural a part of the custom of rural Germany is the knapsack of Swiss origin. Each passer-by looked at me a bit sourly, as if his inner thoughts were not wholly agreeable, and gave no sign or sound of greeting, proof in itself that I was still in the vicinity of a large city. But their very expressions gave evidence that I was not being taken for a tramp, as would have been the case in many another land. Germany is perhaps the easiest country in the world in which to make a walking trip, for the habit of wandering the highways and footpaths144, rucksack on back, is all but universal. Yet this very fact makes it also in a way the least satisfactory, so little attention does the wanderer attract, and there are consequently fewer openings for conversation.
Many fine work-horses were still to be seen in spite of the drain of war, but oxen were in the majority. At least half the laborers in the fields still wore the red-banded army cap, often with the Bavarian cocarde still upon it. One could not but wonder just what were the inner reflections of the one-armed or one-legged men to be seen here and there struggling along behind their plows145, back in their native hills again, maimed for life in a quarrel in which they really had neither part nor interest. Whatever they thought, 260they were outwardly as cheerful as their more fortunate fellows.
I had intended to let my fellow-pedestrians break the ice first, out of curiosity to know how far from the city they would begin to do so. But the continued silence grew a bit oppressive, and in mid-afternoon I fell into step with a curiously146 mated couple who had quenched147 their thirst in the same Gasthaus as I a few minutes before. The woman was a more than buxom Frau of some forty summers, intelligent, educated, and of decided148 personality. She was bareheaded, her full-moon face sunburnt to a rich brown, her massive, muscular form visibly in perspiration149, an empty rucksack on her back. Her husband, at least sixty, scrawny, sallow-faced under the cap of a forest-ranger, hobbled in her wake, leading two rather work-broken horses. He was what one might call a faint individual, one of those insignificant150 characters that fade quickly from the memory, a creature of scanty151 mentality153, and a veritable cesspool of ignorance, prejudice, and superstition154 thrown into relief by the virility155 of his forceful spouse156.
The man had set out that morning from Munich to deliver the horses to a purchaser a hundred miles away in the Bavarian hills. Poor as they were, the animals had been sold for seven thousand marks. A first-class horse was worth six to ten thousand nowadays, he asserted. Times had indeed changed. A few years ago only an insane man would have paid as many hundred. It was a hot day for the middle of May, a quick change from the long, unusual cold spell. The crops would suffer. He didn’t mind walking, if only beer were not so expensive when one got thirsty. Having exhausted157 his scant152 mental reservoir with these and a few as commonplace remarks, he fell into the rear conversationally158 as well as physically160, and abandoned the field to his sharp-witted spouse.
She, having more than her share of all too solid flesh to 261carry, had left the afternoon before and passed the night at a wayside inn. It was not that she was fond of such excursions nor that she could not trust her husband away from home. While he was delivering the horses she would go “hamstering,” buying up a ruck-sackful of food among the peasants of that region, if any could be coaxed161 out of them, and they would return by train. Fortunately, fourth-class was still cheap. Before the war she had never dreamed of going anything but second. I broke my usual rule of the road and mentioned my scribbling162 proclivities163. A moment later we were deeply engrossed164 in a discussion of German novelists and dramatists. The placid102, bourgeois-looking Frau had read everything of importance her literary fellow-countrymen had produced; she was by no means ignorant of the best things in that line in the outside world. Thrown into the crucible165 of her forceful mentality, the characters of fiction had emerged as far more living beings than the men and women who passed us now and then on the road—immensely more so, it was evident, though she did not say so, than the husband who plodded behind us, frankly166 admitting by his very attitude that we had entered waters hopelessly beyond his depth. Of all the restrictions167 the war had brought, none had struck her quite so directly as the decrease in quality and number of the plays at Munich’s municipal theater. Luckily they were now improving. But she always had to go alone. He—with a toss of her head to the rear—didn’t care for anything but the movies. He laughed himself sick over those. As to opera, her greatest pleasure in life, he hadn’t the faintest conception of what it was all about. He liked American ragtime168 (she pronounced it “rhakteam”), however. Still, America had opera also, nicht wahr? Had not many of Germany’s best singers gone to my country? There was Slézak, for instance, and Schumann-Heink and Farrar....
262I might have questioned her notion of the nationality of some of the names she mentioned, but what did it matter?
Obviously it was a waste of breath to ask whether she was pleased with the change of events that had given Germany universal suffrage169 for both sexes. She had voted, of course, at the first opportunity, dragging him along with her; he had so little interest in those matters. Her political opinions were no less decided than her artistic170. Ludwig? She had often seen him. He was rather a harmless individual, but his position had not been harmless. It was a relief to be rid of him and all his clan171. He would have made a much better stable-boy than king. He had wanted war just as much as had the Kaiser, whose robber-knight blood had shown up in him. But the Kaiser had not personally been so guilty as some others, Ludendorff, for instance ... and so on. The Crown Prince! A clown, a disgrace to Germany. Nobody had ever loved the Crown Prince—except the women of a certain class.
Bavaria would be much better off separated from the Empire. She was of the opinion that the majority of Bavarians preferred it. At least they did in her circle, though the strict Catholics—she glanced half-way over her shoulder—perhaps did not. Republican, Sparticist, or Bolshevik—it didn’t matter which, so long as they could get good, efficient rulers. So far they had been deplorably weak—no real leaders. The recent uprising in Munich had been something of a nuisance, to be sure. They were rather glad the government troops had come. But the soldiers were mostly Prussians, and once a Prussian gets in you can never pry172 him out again.
We had reached the village of Hohenkammer, thirty-five kilometers out, which I had chosen as my first stopping-place. My companion of an hour shook hands with what I flattered myself was a gesture of regret that our conversation had been so brief, fell back into step with her 263movie-and-ragtime-minded husband, and the pair disappeared around the inn that bulged173 into a sharp turn of the highway.
I entered the invitingly174 cool and homelike Gasthaus prepared to be coldly turned away. Innkeepers had often been exacting in their demands for credentials175 during my earlier journeys in Germany. With the first mug of beer, however, the portly landlady176 gave me permission—one can scarcely use a stronger expression than that for the casual way in which guests are accepted in Bavarian public-houses—to spend the night, and that without so much as referring to registration177 or proofs of identity. Then, after expressing her placid astonishment that I wanted to see it before bedtime, she sent a muscular, barefoot, but well-scrubbed kitchen-maid to show me into room No. 1 above. It was plainly furnished with two small wooden bedsteads and the prime necessities, looked out on the broad highway and a patch of rolling fields beyond, and was as specklessly clean as are most Bavarian inns.
Rumor had it that any stranger stopping overnight in a German village courted trouble if he neglected to report his presence to the Bürgermeister, as he is expected to do to the police in the cities. I had been omitting the latter formality on the strength of my Wilhelmstrasse pass. These literal countrymen, however, might not see the matter in the same light. Moreover, being probably the only stranger spending the night in Hohenkammer, my presence was certain to be common knowledge an hour after my arrival. I decided to forestall178 pertinent179 inquiries180 by taking the lead in making them.
The building a few yards down the highway bearing the placard “Wohnung des Bürgermeisters” was a simple, one-story, whitewashed181 cottage, possibly the least imposing182 dwelling183 in town. These village rulers, being chosen by popular vote within the community, are apt to be its least 264pompous citizens, both because the latter do not care to accept an unpaid184 office and because the “plain people” hold the voting majority. The woman who tried in vain to silence a howling child and a barking dog before she came to the door in answer to my knock was just a shade better than the servant class. The husband she summoned at my request was a peasant slightly above the general level.
He took his time in coming and greeted me coldly, a trifle sharply. One felt the German official in his attitude, with its scorn for the mere petitioner185, the law’s underling, the subject class. Had I reported my arrival in town in the regulation manner, he would have kept that attitude. I should have been treated as something between a mild criminal and an unimportant citizen whom the law had required to submit himself to the Bürgermeister’s good pleasure. Instead, I assumed the upper caste myself. I drew forth186 a visiting-card and handed it to him with a regal gesture, at the same time addressing him in my most haughty187, university-circles German. He glanced at my unapologetic countenance188, stared at the card, then back into my stern face, his official manner oozing189 slowly but steadily away, like the rotundity of a lightly punctured190 tire. By the time I began to speak again he had shrunk to his natural place in society, that of a simple, hard-working peasant whom chance had given an official standing.
The assertion that I was a traveling correspondent meant little more to him than did the card which he was still turning over and over in his stubby fingers like some child’s puzzle. The Germans are not accustomed to the go-and-hunt method of gathering information to satisfy popular curiosity concerning the ways of foreign lands. I must find a better excuse for coming to Hohenkammer or I should leave him as puzzled as the card had. A brilliant idea struck me. On the strength of the “Hoover crowd” letter in my pocket, I informed him that I was walking through Germany to 265study food conditions, wording the statement in a way that caused him to assume that I had been officially sent on such a mission. He fell into the trap at once. From the rather neutral, unofficial, yet unresponsive attitude to which my unexpected introduction had reduced him he changed quickly to a bland, eager manner that showed genuine interest. Here was an American studying food conditions; Germany was anxiously awaiting food from America; it was up to him, as the ruler of Hohenkammer, to put his best foot forward and give me all the information I desired.
Here in the country, he began, people had never actually suffered for want of food. They had lived better than he had during his four years at the front. Fats were the only substance of which there was any serious want. Milk was also needed, but they could get along. They did not suffer much for lack of meat; there were tickets for it here in the country also, but they were issued only after the meat each family got by slaughtering191 its own animals had been reckoned out. Some families got no food-tickets whatever, unless it was for bread. They were what Germans call Selbstversorger (“self-providers”)—that is, the great majority of the peasants and all the village residents except the shopkeepers who cultivated no land, the priest, the schoolmaster, and so on. No, they had not received any American bacon or any other Lebensmittel; every one took that to be a joke, something the Allies were dangling192 before their eyes to keep them good-natured. He had never actually believed before I turned up on this official mission for studying the food situation that America actually meant to send food. Yes, he had been on the western front the entire war, fifty-two months in the trenches193, and never once wounded. His first Americans he had seen at St.-Mihiel; as soldiers they seemed to be pretty good, but of course I must not forget that the German army was far different in 1918 from what it was in 1914. He very much doubted whether 266Americans could have driven them back in those days. More likely it would have been the opposite.
As I turned to go he took his leave with a mixture of deference194 and friendliness195. He had not asked to see the papers bearing out all these statements I had been making, but there was a hint in the depth of his eyes that he felt it his duty to do so, if only he could venture to make such a demand of so highly placed a personage. I went far enough away to make sure he would not have the courage to demand them—which would have been his first act had I approached him as a mere traveler—then turned back, drawing the documents from a pocket as if I had just thought of them. He glanced at them in a most apologetic manner, protesting the while that of course he had never for an instant doubted my word, and returned them with a deferential196 bow.
All in all, this plan of posing as an official scout68 of the “Amerikanische Lebensmittel Kommission” had been a brilliant idea, marked with a success that moved me to use the same innocent ruse197 a score of times when any other means of gathering information might have been frustrated198. One must have a reasonable excuse for traveling on foot in Germany. To pretend to be doing so for lack of funds would be absurd, since fourth-class fare costs an infinitesimal sum, much less than the least amount of food one could live on for the same distance. The only weakness in my simple little trick was the frequent question as to why the Americans who had sent me out on my important mission had not furnished me a bicycle. The German roads were so good; one could cover so much more ground on a Fahrrad.... Driven into that corner, there was no other defense199 but to mumble200 something about how much more closely the foot traveler can get in touch with the plain people, or to take advantage of some fork in the conversation to change the subject.
When I returned to the inn, the “guest-room” was crowded. Stocky, sun-browned countrymen of all ages, 267rather slow of wit, chatting of the simple topics of the farm in their misshapen Bavarian dialect, were crowded around the half-dozen plain wooden tables that held their immense beer-mugs, while the air was opaque201 with the smoke from their long-stemmed porcelain pipes. The entrance of a total stranger was evidently an event to the circle. The rare guests who spent the night in Hohenkammer were nearly always teamsters or peddlers who traveled the same route so constantly that their faces were as familiar as those of the village residents. As each table in turn caught sight of me, the conversation died down like a motor that had slowly been shut off, until the most absolute silence reigned202. How long it might have lasted would be hard to guess. It had already grown decidedly oppressive when I turned to my nearest neighbor and broke the ice with some commonplace remark. He answered with extreme brevity and an evidence of something between bashfulness and a deference tinged203 with suspicion. Several times I broke the silence which followed each reply before these reached the dignity of full sentences. It was like starting a motor on a cold morning. Bit by bit, however, we got under way; others joined in, and in something less than a half-hour we were buzzing along full speed ahead, the entire roomful adding their voices to the steady hum of conversation which my appearance had interrupted.
Thus far I had not mentioned my nationality at the inn, being in doubt whether the result would be to increase our conversational159 speed or bring it to a grating and sudden halt. When I did, it was ludicrously like the shifting of gears. The talk slowed down for a minute or more, while the information I had vouchsafed204 passed from table to table in half-audible whispers, then sped ahead more noisily, if less swiftly, than before. On the whole, curiosity was chiefly in evidence. There was perhaps a bit of wonder and certainly some incredulity in the simple, gaping205 faces, 268but quite as surely no signs of enmity or resentment206. Before long the table at which I sat was doubly crowded and questions as to America and her ways were pouring down upon me in a flood which it was quite beyond the power of a single voice to stem. Friendly questions they certainly were, without even a suggestion of the sarcasm207 one sometimes caught a hint of in more haughty German circles. Yet in the gathering were at least a score of men who had been more or less injured for life in a struggle which they themselves admitted the nation I represented had turned against them. I have been so long absent from my native land that I cannot quite picture to myself what would happen to the man who thus walked in upon a gathering of American farmers, boldly announcing himself a German just out of the army, but something tells me he would not have passed so perfectly208 agreeable an evening as I did in the village inn of Hohenkammer.
With my third mug of beer the landlord himself sat down beside me. Not, of course—prohibition forbid!—that I had ordered a third pint209 of beer in addition to the two that the plump matron had served me with a very satisfying supper. In fact, I had not once mentioned the subject of beverages210. Merely to take one’s seat at any inn table in Bavaria is equivalent to shouting, “Glas Bier!” No questions were asked, but mine host—so far more often mine hostess—is as certain to set a foaming mug before the new arrival as he—or she—is to abhor211 the habit of drinking water; and woe212 betide the man who drains what he hopes is his last mug without rising instantly to his feet, for some sharp-eyed member of the innkeeper’s family circle is sure to thrust another dripping beaker under his chin before he can catch his breath to protest. On the other hand, no one is forced to gage213 his thirst by that of his neighbors, as in many a less placid land. The treating habit is slightly developed in rural Bavaria. On very special occasions 269some one may “set ’em up” for the friend beside him, or even for three or four of his cronies, but it is the almost invariable rule that each client call for his own reckoning at the end of the evening.
The innkeeper had returned at late dusk from tilling his fields several miles away. Like his fellows throughout Bavaria, he was a peasant except by night and on holidays. During the working-day the burden, if it could be called one, of his urban establishment fell upon his wife and children. It was natural, therefore, that the topic with which he wedged his way into the conversation should have been that of husbandry. Seeds, he asserted, were still fairly good, fortunately, though in a few species the war had left them sadly inferior. But the harvest would be poor this year. The coldest spring in as far back as he could remember had lasted much later than ever before. Then, instead of the rain they should have had, scarcely a drop had fallen and things were already beginning to shrivel. As if they had not troubles enough as it was! With beer gone up to sixteen pfennigs a pint instead of the ten of the good old days before the war! And such beer! Hardly 3 per cent. alcohol in it now instead of 11! The old peasants had stopped drinking it entirely—the very men who had been his best customers. They distilled214 a home-made Schnapps now, and stayed at home to drink it. Naturally such weak stuff as this—he held up his half-empty mug with an expression of disgust on his face—could not satisfy the old-fashioned Bavarian taste. Before the war he had served an average of a thousand beers a day. Now he drew barely two hundred. And as fast as business fell off taxes increased. He would give a good deal to know where they were going to end. Especially now, with these ridiculous terms the Allies were asking Germany to sign. How could they sign? It would scarcely leave them their shirt and trousers. And they, the peasants and country people, would have 270to pay for it, they and the factory hands; not the bigwigs in Berlin and Essen who were so ready to accept England’s challenge. No, it would not pay Bavaria to assert her independence. They did not love the northern German, but when all was said and done it would be better to stick with him.
Suddenly the brain-racking dialect in which the Wirt and his cronies had been sharing their views on this and other subjects halted and died down to utter silence, with that same curious similarity to a shut-off motor that my entrance had caused. I looked about me, wondering what I had done to bring on this new stillness. Every man in the room had removed his hat and all but two their porcelain pipes. Except for the latter, who puffed215 faintly and noiselessly now and then, the whole assembly sat perfectly motionless. For a moment or more I was puzzled; then a light suddenly broke upon me. The bell of the village church was tolling216 the end of evening vespers.
Hohenkammer, like the majority of Bavarian towns, was a strictly217 Catholic community. The women, from the barefoot kitchen servant to the highest lady of the village, had slipped quietly off to church while their husbands gathered in the Gasthaus, and the latter were now showing their respect for the ceremony they had attended by proxy218. They sat erect219, without a bowed head among them, but in the motionless silence of “living statues,” except that toward the end, as if in protest that their good crony, the village priest, should take undue220 advantage of his position and prolong their pose beyond reason with his persistent221 tolling, several squirmed in their seats, and two, possibly the free-thinkers of the community, hawked222 and spat223 noisily and what seemed a bit ostentatiously. As the ringing ceased, each clumsily crossed himself rather hastily, slapped his hat back upon his head, and the buzz of conversation rapidly rose again to its previous volume.
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1
conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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3
aisles
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| n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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armistice
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| n.休战，停战协定 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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7
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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8
whining
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| n. 抱怨，牢骚 v. 哭诉，发牢骚 | |
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9
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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10
camouflage
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| n./v.掩饰，伪装 | |
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11
porcelain
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| n.瓷；adj.瓷的，瓷制的 | |
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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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13
hordes
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| n.移动着的一大群( horde的名词复数 )；部落 | |
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14
densely
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| ad.密集地；浓厚地 | |
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15
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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16
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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17
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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18
dodging
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| n.避开，闪过，音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 )；回避 | |
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19
martial
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| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
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dire
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| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
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21
submission
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| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
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22
beleaguered
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| adj.受到围困[围攻]的；包围的v.围攻( beleaguer的过去式和过去分词)；困扰；骚扰 | |
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23
exacting
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| adj.苛求的，要求严格的 | |
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24
erratically
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| adv.不规律地，不定地 | |
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25
thronged
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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26
disorders
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| n.混乱( disorder的名词复数 )；凌乱；骚乱；（身心、机能）失调 | |
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27
dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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28
pulsated
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| v.有节奏地舒张及收缩( pulsate的过去式和过去分词 )；跳动；脉动；受（激情）震动 | |
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29
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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30
crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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31
civilian
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| adj.平民的，民用的，民众的 | |
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32
flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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33
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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34
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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35
lieutenants
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| n.陆军中尉( lieutenant的名词复数 )；副职官员；空军；仅低于…官阶的官员 | |
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36
sergeants
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| 警官( sergeant的名词复数 )； （美国警察）警佐； （英国警察）巡佐； 陆军（或空军）中士 | |
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37
secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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38
automatons
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| n.自动机，机器人( automaton的名词复数 ) | |
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39
improvised
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| a.即席而作的,即兴的 | |
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40
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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41
bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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42
courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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43
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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44
distinctive
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| adj.特别的，有特色的，与众不同的 | |
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45
sluggishly
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| adv.懒惰地；缓慢地 | |
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46
toddle
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| v.（如小孩）蹒跚学步 | |
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47
calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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48
serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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49
temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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50
foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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51
beverage
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| n.(水，酒等之外的)饮料 | |
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52
robust
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| adj.强壮的，强健的，粗野的，需要体力的，浓的 | |
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53
buxom
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| adj.（妇女）丰满的，有健康美的 | |
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54
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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55
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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56
laborers
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| n.体力劳动者，工人( laborer的名词复数 )；（熟练工人的）辅助工 | |
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57
aloofness
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| 超然态度 | |
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58
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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59
patronage
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| n.赞助，支援，援助；光顾，捧场 | |
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60
deteriorated
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| 恶化，变坏( deteriorate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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61
stewed
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| adj.焦虑不安的，烂醉的v.炖( stew的过去式和过去分词 )；煨；思考；担忧 | |
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62
pestered
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| 使烦恼，纠缠( pester的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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63
automobiles
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| n.汽车( automobile的名词复数 ) | |
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64
deteriorating
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| 恶化，变坏( deteriorate的现在分词 ) | |
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65
infantry
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| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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66
bridles
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| 约束( bridle的名词复数 )； 限动器； 马笼头； 系带 | |
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67
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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68
scout
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| n.童子军，侦察员；v.侦察，搜索 | |
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69
scouts
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| 侦察员[机，舰]( scout的名词复数 )； 童子军； 搜索； 童子军成员 | |
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70
imprinted
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| v.盖印（imprint的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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71
disillusioned
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| a.不再抱幻想的，大失所望的，幻想破灭的 | |
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72
rumor
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| n.谣言，谣传，传说 | |
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73
allied
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| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
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74
arsenals
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| n.兵工厂，军火库( arsenal的名词复数 )；任何事物的集成 | |
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75
munition
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| n.军火；军需品；v.给某部门提供军火 | |
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76
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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77
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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78
swarm
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| n.(昆虫)等一大群；vi.成群飞舞；蜂拥而入 | |
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79
garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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80
ashen
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| adj.灰的 | |
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81
doctrine
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| n.教义；主义；学说 | |
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82
rumors
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| n.传闻( rumor的名词复数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷v.传闻( rumor的第三人称单数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷 | |
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83
reeked
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的过去式和过去分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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84
contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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85
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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86
auxiliaries
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| n.助动词 ( auxiliary的名词复数 )；辅助工，辅助人员 | |
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87
hover
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| vi.翱翔，盘旋；徘徊；彷徨，犹豫 | |
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88
upheaval
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| n.胀起，(地壳)的隆起；剧变，动乱 | |
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89
promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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90
dally
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| v.荒废(时日)，调情 | |
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91
premiums
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| n.费用( premium的名词复数 )；保险费；额外费用；（商品定价、贷款利息等以外的）加价 | |
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92
transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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93
sieve
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| n.筛，滤器，漏勺 | |
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94
meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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95
barter
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| n.物物交换，以货易货，实物交易 | |
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96
assassination
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| n.暗杀；暗杀事件 | |
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97
pompous
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的；夸大的；豪华的 | |
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98
impersonal
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| adj.无个人感情的，与个人无关的，非人称的 | |
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99
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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100
usurped
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| 篡夺，霸占( usurp的过去式和过去分词 )； 盗用； 篡夺，篡权 | |
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101
placidly
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| adv.平稳地，平静地 | |
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102
placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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103
sipping
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
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104
apathetic
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| adj.冷漠的，无动于衷的 | |
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105
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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106
ginger
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| n.姜，精力，淡赤黄色；adj.淡赤黄色的；vt.使活泼，使有生气 | |
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107
lamentably
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| adv.哀伤地，拙劣地 | |
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108
munched
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| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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109
punctilious
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| adj.谨慎的，谨小慎微的 | |
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110
tenaciously
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| 坚持地 | |
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111
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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112
civilians
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| 平民，百姓( civilian的名词复数 )； 老百姓 | |
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113
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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114
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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115
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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116
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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117
plodded
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| v.沉重缓慢地走（路）( plod的过去式和过去分词 )；努力从事；沉闷地苦干；缓慢进行（尤指艰难枯燥的工作） | |
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118
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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119
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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120
ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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121
awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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122
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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123
misgivings
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|
| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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124
penetrating
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|
| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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125
plebeian
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| adj.粗俗的；平民的；n.平民；庶民 | |
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126
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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127
quail
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| n.鹌鹑；vi.畏惧，颤抖 | |
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128
audacity
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| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
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129
proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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130
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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131
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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132
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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133
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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134
trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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135
buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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136
skittish
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| adj.易激动的，轻佻的 | |
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137
slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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138
edible
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| n.食品，食物；adj.可食用的 | |
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139
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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140
laborious
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|
| adj.吃力的，努力的，不流畅 | |
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141
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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142
pedestrians
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| n.步行者( pedestrian的名词复数 ) | |
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143
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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144
footpaths
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| 人行小径，人行道( footpath的名词复数 ) | |
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145
plows
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| n.犁( plow的名词复数 )；犁型铲雪机v.耕( plow的第三人称单数 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
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146
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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147
quenched
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| 解（渴）( quench的过去式和过去分词 )； 终止（某事物）； （用水）扑灭（火焰等）； 将（热物体）放入水中急速冷却 | |
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148
decided
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|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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149
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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150
insignificant
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|
| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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151
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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152
scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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153
mentality
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| n.心理，思想，脑力 | |
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154
superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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155
virility
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|
| n.雄劲，丈夫气 | |
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156
spouse
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| n.配偶(指夫或妻) | |
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157
exhausted
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|
| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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158
conversationally
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| adv.会话地 | |
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159
conversational
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|
| adj.对话的，会话的 | |
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160
physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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161
coaxed
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| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的过去式和过去分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱 | |
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162
scribbling
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| n.乱涂[写]胡[乱]写的文章[作品]v.潦草的书写( scribble的现在分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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163
proclivities
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| n.倾向，癖性( proclivity的名词复数 ) | |
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164
engrossed
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| adj.全神贯注的 | |
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165
crucible
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| n.坩锅，严酷的考验 | |
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166
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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167
restrictions
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| 约束( restriction的名词复数 )； 管制； 制约因素； 带限制性的条件（或规则） | |
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168
ragtime
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| n.拉格泰姆音乐 | |
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169
suffrage
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| n.投票，选举权，参政权 | |
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170
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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171
clan
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| n.氏族，部落，宗族，家族，宗派 | |
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172
pry
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| vi.窥(刺)探，打听；vt.撬动(开，起) | |
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173
bulged
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| 凸出( bulge的过去式和过去分词 )； 充满； 塞满（某物） | |
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174
invitingly
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| adv. 动人地 | |
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175
credentials
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| n.证明，资格，证明书，证件 | |
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176
landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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177
registration
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| n.登记，注册，挂号 | |
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178
forestall
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| vt.抢在…之前采取行动；预先阻止 | |
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179
pertinent
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| adj.恰当的；贴切的；中肯的；有关的；相干的 | |
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180
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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181
whitewashed
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| 粉饰，美化，掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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182
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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183
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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184
unpaid
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| adj.未付款的，无报酬的 | |
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185
petitioner
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| n.请愿人 | |
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186
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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187
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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188
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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189
oozing
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的现在分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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190
punctured
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| v.在（某物）上穿孔( puncture的过去式和过去分词 )；刺穿（某物）；削弱（某人的傲气、信心等）；泄某人的气 | |
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191
slaughtering
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| v.屠杀，杀戮，屠宰( slaughter的现在分词 ) | |
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192
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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193
trenches
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| 深沟，地沟( trench的名词复数 )； 战壕 | |
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194
deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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195
friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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196
deferential
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| adj. 敬意的，恭敬的 | |
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197
ruse
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| n.诡计，计策；诡计 | |
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198
frustrated
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| adj.挫败的，失意的，泄气的v.使不成功( frustrate的过去式和过去分词 )；挫败；使受挫折；令人沮丧 | |
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199
defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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200
mumble
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| n./v.喃喃而语，咕哝 | |
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201
opaque
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| adj.不透光的；不反光的，不传导的；晦涩的 | |
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202
reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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203
tinged
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| v.（使）发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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204
vouchsafed
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| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 )；允诺 | |
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205
gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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206
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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207
sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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208
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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209
pint
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| n.品脱 | |
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210
beverages
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| n.饮料( beverage的名词复数 ) | |
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211
abhor
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| v.憎恶；痛恨 | |
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212
woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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213
gage
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| n.标准尺寸，规格；量规，量表 [=gauge] | |
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214
distilled
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| adj.由蒸馏得来的v.蒸馏( distil的过去式和过去分词 )；从…提取精华 | |
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215
puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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216
tolling
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| [财]来料加工 | |
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217
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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218
proxy
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| n.代理权，代表权；（对代理人的）委托书；代理人 | |
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219
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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220
undue
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| adj.过分的；不适当的；未到期的 | |
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221
persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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222
hawked
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| 通过叫卖主动兜售（hawk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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223
spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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