A short perusal17 of these text-books of training would lead the uninitiated to conclude that the children of to-day are a down-trodden race, deprived of their natural rights by the ruthless despotism of parents. It is also indicated with painful and humiliating distinctness that adults have no rights—at least none that children are bound to respect—and that we have hardened ourselves into selfishness by looking at things from a grown-up, and consequently erroneous, point of view. For example, to many of us it is an annoyance18 when a child wantonly destroys our property. This is ungenerous. “With anointed eyes we might often see in such a tendency a great power of analysis, that needs only to be understood to secure grand results;”—which reflection should make us prompt to welcome the somewhat disastrous19 results already secured. I once knew a little boy who, having been taken on a visit to some relatives, succeeded within half an hour in purloining20 the pendulums21 of three old family clocks, a passion for analysis which ought to have made him one of the first mechanics of his age, had not his genius, like that of the political agita{45}tor, stopped short at the portals of reconstruction22.
It is hard to attune23 our minds to a correct appreciation24 of such incidents, when the clocks belong to us, and the child doesn’t. It is hard to be told that our pendulums are a necessary element, which we do wrong to begrudge25, in the training of a boy’s observation. All modern writers upon children unite in denouncing the word “don’t,” as implying upon every occasion a censure26 which is often unmerited. But this protest reminds me of the little girl who, being told by her father she must not say “I won’t,” innocently inquired: “But, papa, what am I to say when I mean ‘I won’t’?” In the same spirit of uncertainty27 I would like to know what I am to say when I mean “don’t.” Auretta Roys Aldrich, who has written a book on “Children—Their Models and Critics,” in which she is rather severe upon adults, tells us a harrowing tale of a mother and a five-year-old boy who sat near her one day on a railway train. The child thrust his head out of the window, whereupon the mother said tersely28: “Johnnie, stop putting your head out of the window!{46}” That was all. No word of explanation or entreaty29 softened30 this ruthless command. Whether Johnnie obeyed or not is unrevealed, being a matter of no importance; but, “as they left the car,” comments the author, “they left also an aching in my heart. I longed to clasp the mother in my arms, for she, too, had been the victim of misunderstanding; and show her, before it was too late, how she was missing the pure gold of life for herself and her little boy.” Happily, before long, another mother entered, and her child also put his head as far as he could out of that troublesome window, which nobody seemed to have the sense to shut. Observing this, his wise parent sat down by his side, “made some pleasant remark about the outlook,” and then gradually and persuasively31 revealed to him his danger, discussing the matter with “much candor32 and interest,” until he was finally won over to her point of view, and consented of his own free will, and as a rational human being, to draw in his little head.
I think this double experience worth repeating, because it contrasts so pleasantly with the venerable anecdote33 which found its way{47} into all the reading books when I was a small child, and illustrated34 the then popular theory of education. It was the story of a mother who sees her boy running rapidly down a steep hill, and knows that, almost at his feet, lies an abandoned quarry35, half hidden by underbrush and weeds. Sure of his obedience, she calls sharply, “Stop, Willie!” and the child, with a violent effort, stays his steps at the very mouth of the pit. Had it been necessary to convince him first that her apprehensions36 were well grounded, he would have broken his neck meanwhile, and our school-books would have had one tale less to tell.
Still more astounding37 to the uninitiated is another little narrative38, told with enviable gravity by Mrs. Aldrich, and designed to show how easily and deeply we wound a child’s inborn39 sense of justice. “A beautiful boy of four whose parents were unusually wise in dealing40 with him”—it is seldom that a parent wins this degree of approbation—possessed a wheelbarrow of his own, in which he carried the letters daily to and from the post-office. One morning he was tardy41 in returning, “for there was the world to be explored{48}” on the way; and his mother, growing anxious, or perhaps desiring her mail, followed him to know what was the matter. She met him at the post-office door, and seeing in the barrow an envelope directed to herself, she rashly picked it up and opened it. Edwin promptly42 “raised a vehement43 cry of protest.” That letter, like all the rest, had been given to him to carry, and no one else was privileged to touch it. Swiftly and repentantly his mother returned the unfortunate missive, but in vain. “The wound was too deep, and he continued to cry ‘Mamma, you ought not to have done it!’ over and over again between his sobs44.” In fact he “refused to be comforted,”—comforted!—“and so was taken home as best he could be, and laid tenderly and lovingly in bed. After sleeping away the sharpness of sorrow and disappointment, and consequent exhaustion45, the matter could be talked over; but while he was so tired, and keenly smarting under the sense of injustice46 done him, every word added fuel to the flame.... His possessions had been taken away from him by sheer force, before which he was helpless. That his indignation was not appeased47 by put{49}ting the letter back into his keeping, showed that he was contending for a principle, and not for possession or any selfish interest.”
Readers of George Eliot may be pleasantly reminded of that scene in the “Mill on the Floss” where Tom Tulliver unthinkingly withdraws a rattle48 with which he has been amusing baby Moss49, “whereupon she, being a baby that knew her own mind with remarkable50 clearness, instantaneously expressed her sentiments in a piercing yell, and was not to be appeased even by the restoration of the rattle, feeling apparently51 that the original wrong of having it taken away from her remained in all its force.” But to some of us the anecdote of Edwin and his wheelbarrow is more disheartening than droll52. The revelation of such admirable motives53 underlying54 such inexcusable behavior puzzles and alarms us. If this four-year-old prig “contending for a principle and not for possession” be a real boy, what has become of all the dear, naughty, fighting, obstinate55, self-willed, precious children whom we used to know; the children who contended joyously56, not for principle, but for precedence, and to whom we could say “don’t” a dozen{50} times a day with ample justification57. Little boys ought to be the most delightful58 things in the world, with the exception of little girls. It is as easy to love them when they are bad as to tolerate them when they are good. But what can we do with conscientious59 infants to whom misbehavior is a moral obligation, and who scream in the public streets from an exalted60 sense of justice?
Mrs. Kate Douglas Wiggin, that ardent61 champion of Froebel, has also given to the world a book bearing the somewhat ominous62 title, “Children’s Rights,” but which is for the most part as interesting as it is sane63. Setting aside the question of kindergartens, concerning which there are at present many conflicting opinions, it is impossible not to agree with Mrs. Wiggin in much that she states so deftly64, and maintains so vivaciously65. There is little doubt that the rights of the parent do infringe66 occasionally on the rights of the child, and that, in the absence of any standard, the child becomes a creature of circumstance. He can be fed unwholesomely, kept up late at night, dressed like Lord Fauntleroy, dosed with pernicious drugs, and humored into selfish petu{51}lance at the discretion67 of his mother. Worse still, he can be suffered to waste away in fever pain and die, because his parents chance to be fanatics68 who reject the aid of medicines to trust exclusively in prayer. But granting all this, fathers and mothers have still their places in the world, and until we can fill these places with something better, it is worth while to call attention now and then to the useful part they play. It is perhaps a significant fact that mothers, simply because they are mothers, succeed better, as a rule, in bringing up their children than other women, equally loving and sensible, who are compelled to assume their duties. That old-fashioned plea “I know what is best for my child” may be derided69 as a relic70 of darkness; but there is an illuminating71 background to its gloom. I am not even sure that parents stand in absolute need of all the good advice they receive. I am quite sure that many trifles are not worth the serious counsels expended72 upon them. Reading or telling a story, for instance, has become as grave a matter as choosing a laureate, and many a mother must stand aghast at the conflicting admonitions bestowed73 upon her: Read{52} fairy tales. Don’t read fairy tales. Read about elves. Don’t read about ogres. Read of heroic deeds. Don’t read of bloody74 battles. Avoid too much instruction. Be as subtly instructive as you can. Make your stories long. Make your stories short. Work the moral in. Leave the moral out. Try and please the older children. Try and charm the younger ones. Study the tastes of boys. Follow the fancies of girls. By degrees the harassed75 parent who endeavors to obey these instructions will cease telling stories at all, confident that the task, which once seemed so simple and easy, must lie far beyond her limited intelligence.
All that Mrs. Wiggin has to say about children’s books and playthings is both opportune76 and true. I wish indeed she would not speak of restoring toys “to their place in education,” which has a dismal77 sound, though she does not mean it to be taken dismally78. Toys are toys to her, not traps to erudition, and the costly79 inanities80 of our modern nurseries fill her with well-warranted aversion. We are doing our best to stunt81 the imaginations of children by overloading82 them with illustrated story-books{53} and elaborate playthings. Little John Ruskin, whose sole earthly possessions were a cart, a ball, and two boxes of wooden bricks, was infinitely83 better off than the small boy of to-day whose real engine drags a train of real cars over a miniature elevated railway, almost as ghastly as reality, and whose well-dressed soldiers cannot fight until they are wound up with a key. “The law was that I should find my own amusement,” says Ruskin; and he found it readily enough in the untrammeled use of his observation, his intelligence, and his fancy. I have known children to whom a dozen spools84 had a dozen distinct individualities; soldiers, priests, nuns85, and prisoners of war; and to whom every chair in the nursery was a well-tried steed, familiar alike with the race-course and the Holy Land, having its own name, and requiring to be carefully stabled at night after the heroic exertions86 of the day. The romances and dramas of infancy87 need no more setting than a Chinese play, and in that limitless dreamland the transformations88 are as easy as they are brilliant. But no child can successfully “make believe,” when he is encumbered89 on every side by mechanical toys so odiously{54} complete that they leave nothing for the imagination to supply.
In the matter of books, Mrs. Wiggin displays the same admirable conservatism, her modern instincts being checked and held in sway by the recollection of those few dear old volumes which little girls used to read over and over again, until they knew them by heart. Yet I hardly think that “naughty” is a kind word to apply to Miss Edgeworth’s Rosamond, who is not very wise, I admit, and under no circumstances a prig, but always docile90 and charming and good. And why should the “red morocco housewife,” which Rosamond, in one of her rare moments of discretion, chooses instead of a stone plum, be stigmatized91 as “hideous but useful.” It may have been an exceedingly neat and pretty possession. We are told nothing to the contrary, and I had a brown one stamped with gold when I was a little girl, which, to my infant eyes represented supreme92 artistic93 excellence94. It also hurts my feelings very much to hear Casabianca dubbed95 an “inspired idiot,” who lacked the sense to escape. Unless the Roman sentries96 found dead at their posts in Pompeii were also in{55}spired idiots, there should be some kinder word for the blind heroism97 which subordinates reason to obedience. And I am by no means sure that this form of relentless98 nineteenth-century criticism does not do more to vulgarize a child’s mind by destroying his simple ideals, than do the frank old games which Mrs. Wiggin considers so boorish99, and which fill her with “unspeakable shrinking and moral disgust.” The coarseness of “Here come two ducks a-roving,” which was once the blithest of pastorals, and of that curious relic of antiquity100, “Green Gravel,” is not of a hurtful kind, and some of these plays have a keen attraction for highly imaginative children. For my part, I do not believe that all the kindergarten games in Christendom, all the gentle joy of pretending you were a swallow and had your little baby swallows cuddled under your wing, can compare for an instant with the lost delight of playing “London Bridge” in the dusk of a summer evening, or in the dimly-lit schoolroom at bedtime. There was a mysterious fascination101 in the words whose meaning no one understood, and no one sought to understand:{56}—
“Here comes a candle to light you to bed
And then the sudden grasp of four strong little arms, and a pleasing thrill of terror at a danger which was no danger,—only a shadow and a remembrance of some dim horror in the past, living for generations in the unbroken traditions of play.
I have wandered unduly103 from the wrongs of parents to the rights of children, an easy and agreeable step to take. But the children have many powerful advocates, and need no help from me. The parents stand undefended, and suffer grievous things in the way of counsel and reproach. It must surprise some of them occasionally to be warned so often against undue104 severity. It must amaze them to hear that their lazy little boys and girls are suffering from overwork, and in danger of mental exhaustion. It must amuse them—if they have any sense of humor—to be told in the columns of a weekly paper “How to Reprove a Child,” just as they are told “How to Make an Apple Pudding,” and “How to Remove Grease Spots from Clothing.” As for the discipline of the nursery, that has become a{57} matter of supreme importance to all whom it does not concern, and the suggestions offered, the methods urged, are so varied105 and conflicting that the modern mother can be sure of one thing only,—all that she does is wrong. The most popular theory appears to be that whenever a child is naughty it is his parent’s fault, and she owes him prompt atonement for his misbehavior. “We should be astonished, if not appalled,” says Mrs. Aldrich, “if we could see in figures the number of times the average child is unnecessarily censured106 during the first seven years of life.” Punishment is altogether out of favor. Its-apparent necessity arises from the ill-judged course of the father or mother in refusing to a child control over his own actions. This doctrine107 was expounded108 to us some years ago by Helen Hunt, who reasoned wisely that “needless denials” were responsible for most youthful naughtiness, and who was probably right. It would not perhaps be too much to say that if we could have what we wanted and do what we wanted all through life, we should, even as adults, be saved from a great deal of fretfulness and bad behavior.
Miss Nora Smith, who is Mrs. Wiggi{58}n’s clever collaborateur, allows, however, what she terms “natural punishment,” or “natural retribution,” which appears to be something like the far-famed justice of the Mikado, and is represented as being absolutely satisfactory to the child. This is a gain over the old methods which the child, as a rule, disliked; and it is also a gain over the long-drawn tests so urgently commended by Helen Hunt, whose model mother shut herself up for two whole days with her four-year-old boy, until she succeeded, by moral suasion, in inducing him to say G. During these two days the model mother’s equally model husband was content to eat his meals alone, and to spend his evenings in solitude109, unless he went to his club, and all her social and domestic duties were cheerfully abandoned. Her principle was, not to enforce obedience, but to persuade the child to overcome his own reluctance110, to conquer his own will. With this view, she pretended for forty-eight hours that he could not pronounce the letter, and that she was there to help him to do it. The boy, baby though he was, knew better. He knew he was simply obstinate, and, with the delicious clear-sightedness of children, which ought to put all sentimental111 theorists to shame, he actually proposed to his parent that she should shut him in a closet and see if that would not “make him good!” Of course the unhallowed suggestion was not adopted; but what a tale it tells of childish acumen112, and of that humorous grasp of a situation which is the endowment of infancy. The dear little sensible, open-eyed creatures! See them dealing out swift justice to their erring113 dolls, and you will learn their views upon the subject of retribution. I once knew a father who defended himself for frequently thrashing an only and idolized son—who amply merited each chastisement—by saying that Jack114 would think him an idiot if he didn’t. That father was lamentably115 ignorant of much that it behooves116 a father now to acquire. He had probably never read a single book designed for the instruction and humiliation117 of parents. He was in a state of barbaric darkness concerning the latest theories of education. But he knew one thing perfectly118, and that one thing, says Sir Francis Doyle, is slipping fast from the minds of men; namely, “The intention of the Almighty119 that there should exist for a certain time between childhood and manhood, the natural production known as a boy.”
点击收听单词发音
1 exacting | |
adj.苛求的,要求严格的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 temerity | |
n.鲁莽,冒失 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 hazardous | |
adj.(有)危险的,冒险的;碰运气的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 reverence | |
n.敬畏,尊敬,尊严;Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称;v.尊敬,敬畏,崇敬 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 primitive | |
adj.原始的;简单的;n.原(始)人,原始事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 creed | |
n.信条;信念,纲领 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 exempt | |
adj.免除的;v.使免除;n.免税者,被免除义务者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 unnatural | |
adj.不自然的;反常的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 loyalty | |
n.忠诚,忠心 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 conclusively | |
adv.令人信服地,确凿地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 mentors | |
n.(无经验之人的)有经验可信赖的顾问( mentor的名词复数 )v.(无经验之人的)有经验可信赖的顾问( mentor的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 interfere | |
v.(in)干涉,干预;(with)妨碍,打扰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 applied | |
adj.应用的;v.应用,适用 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 explicitly | |
ad.明确地,显然地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 superannuated | |
adj.老朽的,退休的;v.因落后于时代而废除,勒令退学 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 obedience | |
n.服从,顺从 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 perusal | |
n.细读,熟读;目测 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 annoyance | |
n.恼怒,生气,烦恼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 disastrous | |
adj.灾难性的,造成灾害的;极坏的,很糟的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 purloining | |
v.偷窃( purloin的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 pendulums | |
n.摆,钟摆( pendulum的名词复数 );摇摆不定的事态(或局面) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 reconstruction | |
n.重建,再现,复原 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 attune | |
v.使调和 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 appreciation | |
n.评价;欣赏;感谢;领会,理解;价格上涨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 begrudge | |
vt.吝啬,羡慕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 censure | |
v./n.责备;非难;责难 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 uncertainty | |
n.易变,靠不住,不确知,不确定的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 tersely | |
adv. 简捷地, 简要地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 entreaty | |
n.恳求,哀求 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 softened | |
(使)变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 ); 缓解打击; 缓和; 安慰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 persuasively | |
adv.口才好地;令人信服地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 candor | |
n.坦白,率真 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 anecdote | |
n.轶事,趣闻,短故事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 illustrated | |
adj. 有插图的,列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 quarry | |
n.采石场;v.采石;费力地找 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 apprehensions | |
疑惧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 astounding | |
adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊,使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 narrative | |
n.叙述,故事;adj.叙事的,故事体的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 inborn | |
adj.天生的,生来的,先天的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 dealing | |
n.经商方法,待人态度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 tardy | |
adj.缓慢的,迟缓的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 promptly | |
adv.及时地,敏捷地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 vehement | |
adj.感情强烈的;热烈的;(人)有强烈感情的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 sobs | |
啜泣(声),呜咽(声)( sob的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 exhaustion | |
n.耗尽枯竭,疲惫,筋疲力尽,竭尽,详尽无遗的论述 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 injustice | |
n.非正义,不公正,不公平,侵犯(别人的)权利 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 appeased | |
安抚,抚慰( appease的过去式和过去分词 ); 绥靖(满足另一国的要求以避免战争) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 rattle | |
v.飞奔,碰响;激怒;n.碰撞声;拨浪鼓 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 moss | |
n.苔,藓,地衣 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 remarkable | |
adj.显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 droll | |
adj.古怪的,好笑的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 motives | |
n.动机,目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 underlying | |
adj.在下面的,含蓄的,潜在的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 obstinate | |
adj.顽固的,倔强的,不易屈服的,较难治愈的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 joyously | |
ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 justification | |
n.正当的理由;辩解的理由 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 delightful | |
adj.令人高兴的,使人快乐的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 conscientious | |
adj.审慎正直的,认真的,本着良心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 exalted | |
adj.(地位等)高的,崇高的;尊贵的,高尚的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 ardent | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,强烈的,烈性的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 ominous | |
adj.不祥的,不吉的,预兆的,预示的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 sane | |
adj.心智健全的,神志清醒的,明智的,稳健的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 deftly | |
adv.灵巧地,熟练地,敏捷地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 vivaciously | |
adv.快活地;活泼地;愉快地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 infringe | |
v.违反,触犯,侵害 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 discretion | |
n.谨慎;随意处理 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 fanatics | |
狂热者,入迷者( fanatic的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 derided | |
v.取笑,嘲笑( deride的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 relic | |
n.神圣的遗物,遗迹,纪念物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 illuminating | |
a.富于启发性的,有助阐明的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 expended | |
v.花费( expend的过去式和过去分词 );使用(钱等)做某事;用光;耗尽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 bestowed | |
赠给,授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 bloody | |
adj.非常的的;流血的;残忍的;adv.很;vt.血染 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 harassed | |
adj. 疲倦的,厌烦的 动词harass的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 opportune | |
adj.合适的,适当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 dismal | |
adj.阴沉的,凄凉的,令人忧郁的,差劲的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 dismally | |
adv.阴暗地,沉闷地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 costly | |
adj.昂贵的,价值高的,豪华的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 inanities | |
n.空洞( inanity的名词复数 );浅薄;愚蠢;空洞的言行 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 stunt | |
n.惊人表演,绝技,特技;vt.阻碍...发育,妨碍...生长 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 overloading | |
过载,超载,过负载 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 infinitely | |
adv.无限地,无穷地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 spools | |
n.(绕线、铁线、照相软片等的)管( spool的名词复数 );络纱;纺纱机;绕圈轴工人v.把…绕到线轴上(或从线轴上绕下来)( spool的第三人称单数 );假脱机(输出或输入) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 nuns | |
n.(通常指基督教的)修女, (佛教的)尼姑( nun的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 exertions | |
n.努力( exertion的名词复数 );费力;(能力、权力等的)运用;行使 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 infancy | |
n.婴儿期;幼年期;初期 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 transformations | |
n.变化( transformation的名词复数 );转换;转换;变换 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 encumbered | |
v.妨碍,阻碍,拖累( encumber的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 docile | |
adj.驯服的,易控制的,容易教的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 stigmatized | |
v.使受耻辱,指责,污辱( stigmatize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 supreme | |
adj.极度的,最重要的;至高的,最高的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 artistic | |
adj.艺术(家)的,美术(家)的;善于艺术创作的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 excellence | |
n.优秀,杰出,(pl.)优点,美德 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 dubbed | |
v.给…起绰号( dub的过去式和过去分词 );把…称为;配音;复制 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 sentries | |
哨兵,步兵( sentry的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 heroism | |
n.大无畏精神,英勇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 relentless | |
adj.残酷的,不留情的,无怜悯心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 boorish | |
adj.粗野的,乡巴佬的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 antiquity | |
n.古老;高龄;古物,古迹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 fascination | |
n.令人着迷的事物,魅力,迷恋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 hatchet | |
n.短柄小斧;v.扼杀 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 unduly | |
adv.过度地,不适当地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 undue | |
adj.过分的;不适当的;未到期的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 varied | |
adj.多样的,多变化的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 censured | |
v.指责,非难,谴责( censure的过去式 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 doctrine | |
n.教义;主义;学说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 expounded | |
论述,详细讲解( expound的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 solitude | |
n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 reluctance | |
n.厌恶,讨厌,勉强,不情愿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 sentimental | |
adj.多愁善感的,感伤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 acumen | |
n.敏锐,聪明 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 erring | |
做错事的,错误的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 jack | |
n.插座,千斤顶,男人;v.抬起,提醒,扛举;n.(Jake)杰克 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 lamentably | |
adv.哀伤地,拙劣地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 behooves | |
n.利益,好处( behoof的名词复数 )v.适宜( behoove的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 humiliation | |
n.羞辱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 almighty | |
adj.全能的,万能的;很大的,很强的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |