Don Marquis was born in 1878; reckoning by tens, '88, '98, '08—well, call it forty. He is burly, ruddy, gray-haired, and fond of corncob pipes, dark beer, and sausages. He looks a careful blend of Falstaff and Napoleon III. He has conducted the Sun Dial in the New York Evening Sun since 1912. He stands out as one of the most penetrating9 satirists and resonant11 scoffers at folderol that this continent nourishes. He is far more than a colyumist: he is a poet—a kind of Meredithian Prometheus chained to the roar and clank of a Hoe press. He is a novelist of Stocktonian gifts, although unfortunately for us he writes the first half of a novel easier than the second. And I think that in his secret heart and at the bottom of the old haircloth round-top trunk he is a dramatist.
He good-naturedly deprecates that people praise "Archy the Vers Libre Cockroach13" and clamour for more; while "Hermione," a careful and cutting satire14 on the follies15 of pseudokultur near the Dewey Arch, elicits16 only "a mild, mild smile." As he puts it:
A chair broke down in the midst of a Bernard Shaw comedy the other evening. Everybody laughed. They had been laughing before from time to time. That was because it was a Shaw comedy. But when the chair broke they roared. We don't blame them for roaring, but it makes us sad.
The purveyor17 of intellectual highbrow wit and humour pours his soul into the business of capturing a few refined, appreciative18 grins in the course of a lifetime, grins that come from the brain; he is more than happy if once or twice in a generation he can get a cerebral19 chuckle—and then Old Boob Nature steps in and breaks a chair or flings a fat man down on the ice and the world laughs with, all its heart and soul.
Don Marquis recognizes as well as any one the value of the slapstick as a mirth-provoking instrument. (All hail to the slapstick! it was well known at the Mermaid20 Tavern21, we'll warrant.) But he prefers the rapier. Probably his Savage22 Portraits, splendidly truculent23 and slashing24 sonnets25, are among the finest pieces he has done.
The most honourable26 feature of Marquis's writing, the "small thing to look for but the big thing to find," is its quality of fine workmanship. The swamis and prophets of piffle, the Bhandranaths and Fothergill Finches whom he detests28, can only create in an atmosphere specially29 warmed, purged30 and rose-watered for their moods. Marquis has emerged from the underworld of newspaper print just by his heroic ability to transform the commonest things into tools for his craft. Much of his best and subtlest work has been clacked out on a typewriter standing31 on an upturned packing box. (When the American Magazine published a picture of him at work on his packing case the supply man of the Sun got worried, and gave him a regular desk.) Newspaper men are a hardy32 race. Who but a man inured34 to the squalour of a newspaper office would dream of a cockroach as a hero? Archy was born in the old Sun building, now demolished35, once known as Vermin Castle.
"Publishing a volume of verse," Don has plaintively36 observed, "is like dropping a rose-petal37 down the Grand Canyon38 and waiting to hear the echo." Yet if the petal be authentic39 rose, the answer will surely come. Some poets seek to raft oblivion by putting on frock coats and reading their works aloud to the women's clubs. Don Marquis has no taste for that sort of mummery. But little by little his potent40, yeasty verses, fashioned from the roaring loom41 of every day, are winning their way into circulation. Any reader who went to Dreams and Dust (poems, published October, 1915) expecting to find light and waggish42 laughter, was on a blind quest. In that book speaks the hungry and visionary soul of this man, quick to see beauty and grace in common things, quick to question the answerless face of life—
Still broods the dull distrust;
Dream, or dust?
Heavy men are light on their feet: it takes stout poets to write nimble verses (Mr. Chesterton, for instance). Don Marquis has something of Dobsonian cunning to set his musings to delicate, austere45 music. He can turn a rondeau or a triolet as gracefully46 as a paying teller47 can roll Durham cigarettes.
How neat this is:
TO A DANCING DOLL
You begin your steps demurely—
In the feet that move so surely.
So discreetly51, to the chime
Of the music that so sweetly
Marks the time.
Quicker,
And your feet they flash and flicker—
Twinkle!—
Flash and flutter to a tricksy
And you foot it like a pixie—
Only fleeter!
Things—
Flings—
For they made you overseas
In politer times than these
In an age when grace could please,
Ere St. Vitus
But Marquis is more than the arbiter58 of dainty elegances59 in rhyme: he sings and celebrates a robust60 world where men struggle upward from the slime and discontent leaps from star to star. The evolutionary61 theme is a favourite with him: the grand pageant62 of humanity groping from Piltdown to Beacon63 Hill, winning in a million years two precarious64 inches of forehead. Much more often than F.P.A., who used to be his brother colyumist in Manhattan, he dares to disclose the real earnestness that underlies65 his chaff66.
I suppose that the conductor of a daily humorous column stands in the hierarchy67 of unthanked labourers somewhere between a plumber68 and a submarine trawler. Most of the available wheezes69 were pulled long ago by Plato in the Republic (not the New Republic) or by Samuel Butler in his Notebooks. Contribs come valiantly70 to hand with a barrowful of letters every day—("The ravings fed him" as Don captioned71 some contrib's quip about Simeon Stylites living on a column); but nevertheless the direct and alternating current must be turned on six times a week. His jocular exposal of the colyumist's trade secret compares it to the boarding-house keeper's rotation72 of crops:
MONDAY. Take up an idea in a serious way. (ROAST BEEF.)
TUESDAY. Some one writes us a letter about Monday's serious idea. (COLD ROAST BEEF.)
THURSDAY. Some one takes issue with us for Wednesday's josh of Monday's serious idea. (BEEFSTEAK PIE.)
FRIDAY. We become a little pensive74 about our Wednesday's josh of Monday's serious idea—there creeps into our copy a more subdued75, sensible note, as if we were acknowledging that after all, the main business of life is not mere12 harebrained word-play. (HASH OR CROQUETTES WITH GREEN PEPPERS.)
SATURDAY. Spoof76 the whole thing again, especially spoofing ourself for having ever taken it seriously. (BEEF SOUP WITH BARLEY77 IN IT.)
SUNDAY. There isn't any evening paper on Sunday. That is where we have the advantage of the boarding-house keepers.
But the beauty of Don's cuisine78 is that the beef soup with barley always tastes as good as, or even better than, the original roast. His dry battery has generated in the past few years a dozen features with real voltage—the Savage Portraits, Hermione, Archy the Vers Libre Cockroach, the Aptronymic Scouts79, French Without a Struggle, Suggestions to Popular Song Writers, Our Own Wall Mottoes, and the sequence of Prefaces (to an Almanac, a Mileage80 Book, The Plays of Euripides, a Diary, a Book of Fishhooks, etc.). Some of Marquis's most admirable and delicious fooling has been poured into these Prefaces: I hope that he will put them between book-covers.
One day I got a letter from a big engineering firm in Ohio, enclosing a number of pay-envelopes (empty). They wanted me to examine the aphorisms82 and orisonswettmardenisms they had been printing on their weekly envelopes, for the inspiration and peptonizing of their employees. They had been using quotations83 from Emerson, McAdoo, and other panhellenists, and had run out of "sentiments." They wanted suggestions as to where they could find more.
I advised them to get in touch with Don Marquis. I don't know whether they did so or not; but Don's epigrams and bon mots would adorn84 any pay-envelope anthology. Some of his casual comments on whiskey would do more to discourage the decanterbury pilgrims than a bushel of tracts85.
By the time a bartender knows what drink a man will have before he orders, there is little else about him worth knowing.
If you go to sleep while you are loafing, how are you going to know you are loafing?
Because majorities are often wrong it does not follow that minorities are always right.
Young man, if she asks you if you like her hair that way, beware. The woman has already committed matrimony in her own heart.
In most of Don Marquis's japes, a still small voice speaks in the mirthquake:
If you try too hard to get a thing, you don't get it.
If you sweat and strain and worry the other ace33 will not come—the little ball will not settle upon the right number or the proper colour—the girl will marry the other man—the public will cry, Bedamned to him! he can't write anyhow!—the cosmos87 will refuse its revelations of divinity—the Welsh rabbit will be stringy—you will find there are not enough rhymes in the language to finish your ballade—the primrose88 by the river's brim will be only a hayfever carrier—and your fountain pen will dribble89 ink upon your best trousers.
But Don Marquis's mind has two yolks (to use one of his favourite denunciations). In addition to these comic or satiric90 shadows, the gnomon of his Sun Dial may be relied on every now and then to register a clear-cut notation91 of the national mind and heart. For instance this, just after the United States severed92 diplomatic relations with Germany:
This Beast we know, whom time brings to his last rebirth
Bull-thewed, iron-boned, cold-eyed and strong as Earth ...
Yielded her earthy secrets, gave him girth,
Who frowned above him, proud and grim,
Of fire and steel and stone and war:
Of spirit, honour and clean mirth ...
Tip from the wild red Welter of the past
Too patient we have been, thou knowest, God, thou knowest.
Of yesteryear lie on the ocean's bed—
We have denied each pleading ghost—
We have been slow: God, make us sure.
We have been slow. Grant we endure
Unto the uttermost, the uttermost.
Did our slow mood, O God, with thine accord?
Then weld our diverse millions, Lord,
Into one single swinging sword.
I have been combing over the files of the Sun Dial, and it is disheartening to see these deposits of pearl and pie-crust, this sediment101 of fine mind, buried full fathom102 five in the yellowing archives of a newspaper. I thought of De Quincey's famous utterance103 about the press:
Worlds of fine thinking lie buried in that vast abyss, never to be disentombed or restored to human admiration104. Like the sea, it has swallowed treasures without end, that no diving-bell will bring up again.
Greatly as we cherish the Sun Dial, we are jealous of it for sapping all its author's time and calories. No writer in America has greater of more meaty, stalwart gifts. Don, we cry, spend less time stoking that furnace out in Port Washington, and more on your novels!
There is no more convincing proof of the success of the Sun Dial than the roster105 of its contributors. Some of the most beautiful lyrics106 of the past few years have been printed there (I think particularly of two or three by Padraic Colum). In this ephemeral column of a daily newspaper some of the rarest singers and keenest wits of the time have been glad to exhibit their wares107, without pay of course. It would be impossible to give a complete list, but among them are William Rose Benét, Clinton Scollard, Edith M. Thomas, Benjamin De Casseres, Gelett Burgess, Georgia Pangborn, Charles Hanson Towne, Clement108 Wood.
But the tragedy of the colyumist's task is that the better he does it the harder it becomes. People simply will not leave him alone. All day long they drop into his office, or call him up on the phone in the hope of getting into the column. Poor Don! he has become an institution down on Nassau Street: whatever hour of the day you call, you will find his queue there chivvying him. He is too gracious to throw them out: his only expedient109 is to take them over to the gin cathedral across the street and buy them a drink. Lately the poor wretch110 has had to write his Dial out in the pampas of Long Island, bringing it in with him in the afternoon, in order to get it done undisturbed. How many times I have sworn never to bother him again! And yet, when one is passing in that neighbourhood, the temptation is irresistible111.... I dare say Ben Jonson had the same trouble. Of course someone ought to endow Don and set him permanently112 at the head of a chophouse table, presiding over a kind of Mermaid coterie113 of robust wits. He is a master of the tavernacular.
He is a versatile114 cove81. Philosopher, satirist10, burlesquer116, poet, critic, and novelist. Perhaps the three critics in this country whose praise is best worth having, and least easy to win, would be Marquis, Strunsky, and O.W. Firkins. And I think that the three leading poets male in this country to-day are Marquis, William Rose Benét, and (perhaps) Vachel Lindsay. Of course Don Marquis has an immense advantage over Will Benét in his stoutness117. Will had to feed up on honey and candied apricocks and mares' milk for months before they would admit him to the army.
Hermione and her little group of "Serious Thinkers" have attained118 the dignity of book publication, and now stand on the shelf beside "Danny's Own Story" and "The Cruise of the Jasper B." This satire on the azure-pedalled coteries119 of Washington Square has perhaps received more publicity120 than any other of Marquis's writings, but of all Don's drolleries I reserve my chief affection for Archy. The cockroach, endowed by some freak of transmigration with the shining soul of a vers libre poet, is a thoroughly121 Marquisian whimsy122. I make no apology for quoting this prince of blattidae at some length. Many a commuter123, opening his evening paper on the train, looks first of all to see if Archy is in the Dial. I love Archy because there seems to me something thoroughly racial and native and American about him. Can you imagine him, for instance, in Punch? His author has never told us which one of the vers libre poets it is whose soul has emigrated into Archy, but I feel sure it is not Ezra Pound or any of the expatriated eccentrics who lisp in odd numbers in the King's Road, Chelsea. Could it be Amy Lowell? Perhaps it should be explained that Archy's carelessness as to punctuation124 and capitals is not mere ostentation125, but arises from the fact that he is not strong enough to work the shift key of his typewriter. Ingenious readers of the Sun Dial have suggested many devices to make this possible, but none that seem feasible to the roach himself.
The Argument: Archy, the vers libre cockroach, overhears a person with whiskers and dressed in the uniform of a butler in the British Navy, ask a German waiter if the pork pie is built. Ja, Ja, replies the waiter. Archy's suspicions are awakened127, and he climbs into the pork pie through an air hole, and prepares his soul for parlous128 times. The naval129 butler takes the pie on board a launch, and Archy, watching through one of the portholes of the pastry130, sees that they are picked up by a British cruiser "an inch or two outside the three-mile line." (This was in neutral days, remember.) Archy continues the narrative131 in lower case agate132:
it is cuthbert with the pork pie the captain has been longing133 for said a voice and on every side rang shouts of the pie the pie the captains pie has come at last and a salute134 of nineteen guns was fired the pie was carried at once to the captains mess room where the captain a grizzled veteran sat with knife and fork in hand and serviette tucked under his chin i knew cried the captain that if there was a pork pie in america my faithful cuthbert find it for me the butler bowed and all the ships officers pulled up their chairs to the table with a rasping sound you may serve it honest cuthbert said the captain impatiently and the butler broke a hole in the top crust he touched a hidden mechanism136 for immediately something right under me began to go tick tock tick tock tick tock what is that noise captain said the larboard mate only the patent log clicking off the knots said the butler it needs oiling again but cuthbert said the captain why are you so nervous and what means that flush upon your face that flush your honor is chicken pox said cuthbert i am subject to sudden attacks of it unhand that pie cried the ships surgeon leaping to his feet arrest that butler he is a teuton spy that is not chicken pox at all it is german measles137 ha ha cried the false butler the ship is doomed138 there is a clock work bomb in this pie my name is not cuthbert it is friedrich and he leaped through a port into the sea his blonde side whiskers which were false falling off as he did so ha ha rang his mocking laughter from the ocean as he pulled shoreward with long strokes your ship is doomed my god said the senior boatswain what shall we do stop the clock ordered the captain but i had already done so i braced my head against the hour hand and my feet against the minute hand and stopped the mechanism the captain drew his sword and pried139 off all the top crust gentlemen he said yonder cockroach has saved the ship let us throw the pie overboard and steam rapidly away from it advised the starboard ensign not so not so cried the captain yon gallant140 cockroach must not perish so gratitude141 is a tradition of the british navy i would sooner perish with him than desert him all the time the strain was getting worse on me if my feet slipped the clock would start again and all would be lost beads142 of sweat rolled down my forehead and almost blinded me something must be done quick said the first assistant captain the insect is losing his rigidity143 wait said the surgeon and gave me a hypodermic of some powerful east indian drug which stiffened144 me like a cataleptic but i could still see and hear for days and days a council of war was held about me every afternoon and wireless145 reports sent to london save the cockroach even if you lose the ship wirelessed the admiralty england must stand by the smaller nations and every hour the surgeon gave me another hypodermic at the end of four weeks the cabin boy who had been thinking deeply all the time suggested that a plug of wood be inserted in my place which was done and i fell to the deck well nigh exhausted146 the next day i was set on shore in the captains gig and here i am.
archy
So far as I know, America has made just two entirely147 original contributions to the world's types of literary and dramatic art. These are the humorous colyum and the burlesque115 show. The saline and robust repartee148 of the burlicue is ancient enough in essence, but it is compounded into a new and uniquely American mode, joyously149 flavoured with Broadway garlic. The newspaper colyum, too, is a native product. Whether Ben Franklin or Eugene Field invented it, it bears the image and superscription of America.
And using the word ephemeral in its strict sense, Don Marquis is unquestionably the cleverest of our ephemeral philosophers. This nation suffers a good deal from lack of humour in high places: our Great Pachyderms have all Won their Way to the Top by a Resolute150 Struggle. But Don has just chuckled151 and gone on refusing to answer letters or fill out Mr. Purinton's blasphemous152 efficiency charts or join the Poetry Society or attend community masques. And somehow all these things seem to melt away, and you look round the map and see Don Marquis taking up all the scenery.... He has such an [oe]cumenical kind of humour. It's just as true in Brooklyn as it is in the Bronx.
He is at his best when he takes up some philosophic153 dilemma154, or some quaint abstraction (viz., Certainty, Predestination, Idleness, Uxoricide, Prohibition155, Compromise, or Cornutation) and sets the idea spinning. Beginning slowly, carelessly, in a deceptive156, offhand157 manner, he lets the toy revolve158 as it will. Gradually the rotation accelerates; faster and faster he twirls the thought (sometimes losing a few spectators whose centripetal159 powers are not starch160 enough) until, chuckling161, he holds up the flashing, shimmering162 conceit163, whirling at top speed and ejaculating sparks. What is so beautiful as a rapidly revolving164 idea? Marquis's mind is like a gyroscope: the faster it spins, the steadier it is. There are laws of dynamics165 in colyums just as anywhere else.
What is there in the nipping air of Galesburg, Illinois, that turns the young sciolists of Knox College toward the rarefied ethers of literature? S.S. McClure, John Phillips, Ralph Waldo Trine, Don Marquis—are there other Knox men in the game, too? Marquis was studying at Galesburg about the time of the Spanish War. He has worked on half a dozen newspapers, and assisted Joel Chandler Harris in editing "Uncle Remus's Magazine." But let him tell his biography in his own words:
My father was a physician, and I had all the diseases of the time and place free of charge.
Nothing further happened to me until, in the summer of 1896, I left the Republican party to follow the Peerless Leader to defeat.
In 1900 I returned to the Republican party to accept a position in the Census167 Bureau, at Washington, D.C. This position I filled for some months in a way highly satisfactory to the Government in power. It is particularly gratifying to me to remember that one evening, after I had worked unusually hard at the Census Office, the late President McKinley himself nodded and smiled to me as I passed through the White House grounds on my way home from toil168. He had heard of my work that day, I had no doubt, and this was his way of showing me how greatly he appreciated it.
Nevertheless, shortly after President McKinley paid this public tribute to the honesty, efficiency and importance of my work in the Census Office, I left the Republican party again, and accepted a position as reporter on a Washington paper.
Upon entering the newspaper business all the troubles of my earlier years disappeared as if by magic, and I have lived the contented169, peaceful, unworried life of the average newspaper man ever since.
There is little more to tell. In 1916 I again returned to the Republican party. This time it was for the express purpose of voting against Mr. Wilson. Then Mr. Hughes was nominated, and I left the Republican party again.
This is the outline of my life in its relation to the times in which I live. For the benefit of those whose curiosity extends to more particular details, I add a careful pen-picture of myself.
It seems more modest, somehow, to put it in the third person:
Height, 5 feet 10? inches; hair, dove-coloured; scar on little finger of left hand; has assured carriage, walking boldly into good hotels and mixing with patrons on terms of equality; weight, 200 pounds; face slightly asymmetrical170, but not definitely criminal in type; loathes171 Japanese art, but likes beefsteak and onions; wears No. 8 shoe; fond of Francis Thompson's poems; inside seam of trousers, 32 inches; imitates cats, dogs and barnyard animals for the amusement of young children; eyetooth in right side of upper jaw172 missing; has always been careful to keep thumb prints from possession of police; chest measurement, 42 inches, varying with respiration173; sometimes wears glasses, but usually operates undisguised; dislikes the works of Rabindranath Tagore; corn on little toe of right foot; superstitious174, especially with regard to psychic175 phenomena176; eyes, blue; does not use drugs nor read his verses to women's clubs; ruddy complexion177; no photograph in possession of police; garrulous178 and argumentative; prominent cheek bones; avoids Bohemian society, so-called, and has never been in a thieves' kitchen, a broker's office nor a class of short-story writing; wears 17-inch collar; waist measurement none of your business; favourite disease, hypochondria; prefers the society of painters, actors, writers, architects, preachers, sculptors179, publishers, editors, musicians, among whom he often succeeds in insinuating180 himself, avoiding association with crooks181 and reformers as much as possible; walks with rapid gait; mark of old fracture on right shin; cuffs182 on trousers, and coat cut loose, with plenty of room under the arm pits; two hip27 pockets; dislikes Rochefort cheese, "Tom Jones," Wordsworth's poetry, absinthe cocktails183, most musical comedy, public banquets, physical exercise, Billy Sunday, steam heat, toy dogs, poets who wear their souls outside, organized charity, magazine covers, and the gas company; prominent callouses184 on two fingers of right hand prevent him being expert pistol shot; belt straps185 on trousers; long upper lip; clean shaven; shaggy eyebrows186; affects soft hats; smile, one-sided; no gold fillings in teeth; has served six years of indeterminate sentence in Brooklyn, with no attempt to escape, but is reported to have friends outside; voice, husky; scar above the forehead concealed187 by hair; commonly wears plain gold ring on little finger of left hand; dislikes prunes188, tramp poets and imitations of Kipling; trousers cut loose over hips135 and seat; would likely come along quietly if arrested.
I would fail utterly in this rambling189 anatomy190 if I did not insist that Don Marquis regards his column not merely as a soapslide but rather as a cudgelling ground for sham191 and hypocrisy192. He has something of the quick Stevensonian instinct for the moral issue, and the Devil not infrequently winces193 about the time the noon edition of the Evening Sun comes from the press. There is no man quicker to bonnet194 a fallacy or drop the acid just where it will disinfect. For instance, this comment on some bolshevictory in Russia:
A kind word was recently seen, on one of the principal streets of Petrograd, attempting to butter a parsnip.
For the plain man who shies at surplice and stole, the Sun Dial is a very real pulpit, whence, amid excellent banter195, he hears much that is purging196 and cathartic197 in a high degree. The laughter of fat men is a ringing noble music, and Don Marquis, like Friar Tuck, deals texts and fisticuffs impartially198. What an archbishop of Canterbury he would have made! He is a burly and bonny dominie, and his congregation rarely miss the point of the sermon. We cannot close better than by quoting part of his Colyumist's Prayer in which he admits us somewhere near the pulse of the machine:
I pray Thee, make my colyum read,
And give me thus my daily bread.
Endow me, if Thou grant me wit,
Save me from feeling so much hate
My food will not assimilate;
Open mine eyes that I may see
Thy world with more of charity,
And lesson me in good intents
Help me to hide my self-conceit,
And give me courage now and then
To be as dull as are most men.
And give me readers quick to see
When I am satirizing201 Me....
And it is thoroughly characteristic of Don Marquis that he follows his prayer with this comment:
People, when they pray, usually pray not for what they really want—and intend to have if they can get it—but for what they think the Creator wants them to want. We made a certain attempt to be sincere in the above verses; but even at that no doubt a lot of affectation crept in.
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saturnine
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| adj.忧郁的，沉默寡言的，阴沉的，感染铅毒的 | |
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extol
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| v.赞美，颂扬 | |
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yearns
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| 渴望，切盼，向往( yearn的第三人称单数 ) | |
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esteemed
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| adj.受人尊敬的v.尊敬( esteem的过去式和过去分词 )；敬重；认为；以为 | |
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jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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plumbing
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| n.水管装置；水暖工的工作；管道工程v.用铅锤测量（plumb的现在分词）；探究 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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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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satirist
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| n.讽刺诗作者，讽刺家，爱挖苦别人的人 | |
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resonant
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| adj.(声音)洪亮的，共鸣的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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cockroach
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| n.蟑螂 | |
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satire
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| n.讽刺，讽刺文学，讽刺作品 | |
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follies
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| 罪恶，时事讽刺剧； 愚蠢，蠢笨，愚蠢的行为、思想或做法( folly的名词复数 ) | |
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elicits
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| 引出，探出( elicit的第三人称单数 ) | |
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purveyor
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| n.承办商，伙食承办商 | |
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appreciative
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| adj.有鉴赏力的，有眼力的；感激的 | |
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cerebral
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| adj.脑的，大脑的；有智力的，理智型的 | |
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mermaid
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| n.美人鱼 | |
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tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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truculent
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| adj.野蛮的，粗野的 | |
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slashing
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| adj.尖锐的；苛刻的；鲜明的；乱砍的v.挥砍( slash的现在分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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25
sonnets
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| n.十四行诗( sonnet的名词复数 ) | |
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26
honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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27
hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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28
detests
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的第三人称单数 ) | |
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29
specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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30
purged
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| 清除（政敌等）( purge的过去式和过去分词 )； 涤除（罪恶等）； 净化（心灵、风气等）； 消除（错事等）的不良影响 | |
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31
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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32
hardy
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| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
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33
ace
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| n.A牌；发球得分；佼佼者；adj.杰出的 | |
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34
inured
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| adj.坚强的，习惯的 | |
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35
demolished
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| v.摧毁( demolish的过去式和过去分词 )；推翻；拆毁（尤指大建筑物）；吃光 | |
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36
plaintively
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| adv.悲哀地，哀怨地 | |
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37
petal
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| n.花瓣 | |
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38
canyon
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| n.峡谷，溪谷 | |
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39
authentic
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| a.真的，真正的；可靠的，可信的，有根据的 | |
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40
potent
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| adj.强有力的，有权势的；有效力的 | |
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41
loom
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| n.织布机，织机；v.隐现，(危险、忧虑等)迫近 | |
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42
waggish
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| adj.诙谐的，滑稽的 | |
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43
pinion
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| v.束缚；n.小齿轮 | |
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44
dominion
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| n.统治，管辖，支配权；领土，版图 | |
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45
austere
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| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
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46
gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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47
teller
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| n.银行出纳员；(选举)计票员 | |
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48
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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49
prim
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| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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50
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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51
discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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52
tinkle
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|
| vi.叮当作响；n.叮当声 | |
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53
fickle
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| adj.(爱情或友谊上)易变的，不坚定的 | |
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54
dowdy
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| adj.不整洁的；过旧的 | |
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55
trots
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| 小跑，急走( trot的名词复数 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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56
spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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57
smite
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| v.重击；彻底击败；n.打；尝试；一点儿 | |
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58
arbiter
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| n.仲裁人，公断人 | |
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59
elegances
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|
| n.高雅( elegance的名词复数 )；（举止、服饰、风格等的）优雅；精致物品；（思考等的）简洁 | |
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60
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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61
evolutionary
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| adj.进化的；演化的，演变的；[生]进化论的 | |
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62
pageant
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| n.壮观的游行；露天历史剧 | |
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63
beacon
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| n.烽火，（警告用的）闪火灯，灯塔 | |
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64
precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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65
underlies
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| v.位于或存在于（某物）之下( underlie的第三人称单数 )；构成…的基础（或起因），引起 | |
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66
chaff
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| v.取笑，嘲笑；n.谷壳 | |
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67
hierarchy
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| n.等级制度；统治集团，领导层 | |
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68
plumber
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| n.(装修水管的)管子工 | |
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69
wheezes
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| n.喘息声( wheeze的名词复数 )v.喘息，发出呼哧呼哧的喘息声( wheeze的第三人称单数 ) | |
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70
valiantly
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| adv.勇敢地，英勇地；雄赳赳 | |
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71
captioned
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| a.标题项下的； 标题所说的 | |
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72
rotation
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| n.旋转；循环，轮流 | |
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73
stew
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| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
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74
pensive
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| a.沉思的,哀思的,忧沉的 | |
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75
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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76
spoof
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| n.诳骗，愚弄，戏弄 | |
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77
barley
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| n.大麦，大麦粒 | |
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78
cuisine
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| n.烹调，烹饪法 | |
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79
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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80
mileage
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| n.里程，英里数；好处，利润 | |
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81
cove
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| n.小海湾，小峡谷 | |
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82
aphorisms
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| 格言，警句( aphorism的名词复数 ) | |
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83
quotations
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| n.引用( quotation的名词复数 )；[商业]行情（报告）；（货物或股票的）市价；时价 | |
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84
adorn
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| vt.使美化，装饰 | |
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85
tracts
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| 大片土地( tract的名词复数 )； 地带； （体内的）道； （尤指宣扬宗教、伦理或政治的）短文 | |
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86
promising
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|
| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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87
cosmos
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| n.宇宙；秩序，和谐 | |
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88
primrose
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| n.樱草，最佳部分， | |
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89
dribble
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|
| v.点滴留下，流口水；n.口水 | |
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90
satiric
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|
| adj.讽刺的，挖苦的 | |
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91
notation
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|
| n.记号法，表示法，注释；[计算机]记法 | |
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92
severed
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| v.切断，断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 )；断，裂 | |
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93
spawned
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| （鱼、蛙等）大量产（卵）( spawn的过去式和过去分词 )； 大量生产 | |
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94
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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95
braced
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|
| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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96
lore
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| n.传说；学问，经验，知识 | |
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97
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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98
dinosaur
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| n.恐龙 | |
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99
foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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100
doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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101
sediment
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| n.沉淀，沉渣，沉积(物) | |
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102
fathom
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| v.领悟，彻底了解 | |
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103
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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104
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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105
roster
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| n.值勤表，花名册 | |
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106
lyrics
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| n.歌词 | |
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107
wares
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| n. 货物, 商品 | |
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108
clement
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| adj.仁慈的；温和的 | |
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109
expedient
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| adj.有用的，有利的；n.紧急的办法，权宜之计 | |
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110
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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111
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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112
permanently
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| adv.永恒地，永久地，固定不变地 | |
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113
coterie
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| n.(有共同兴趣的)小团体，小圈子 | |
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114
versatile
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| adj.通用的，万用的；多才多艺的，多方面的 | |
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115
burlesque
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| v.嘲弄，戏仿；n.嘲弄，取笑，滑稽模仿 | |
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116
burlesquer
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| 滑稽戏演员，粗俗节目表演者 | |
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117
stoutness
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| 坚固，刚毅 | |
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118
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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119
coteries
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| n.（有共同兴趣的）小集团( coterie的名词复数 ) | |
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120
publicity
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| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
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121
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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122
whimsy
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| n.古怪，异想天开 | |
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123
commuter
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| n.(尤指市郊之间)乘公交车辆上下班者 | |
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124
punctuation
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| n.标点符号，标点法 | |
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125
ostentation
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| n.夸耀，卖弄 | |
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126
vices
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| 缺陷( vice的名词复数 )； 恶习； 不道德行为； 台钳 | |
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127
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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128
parlous
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| adj.危险的，不确定的，难对付的 | |
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129
naval
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| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
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130
pastry
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| n.油酥面团，酥皮糕点 | |
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131
narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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132
agate
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| n.玛瑙 | |
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133
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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134
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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135
hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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136
mechanism
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| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
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137
measles
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| n.麻疹，风疹，包虫病，痧子 | |
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138
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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139
pried
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| v.打听，刺探（他人的私事）( pry的过去式和过去分词 )；撬开 | |
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140
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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141
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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142
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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143
rigidity
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| adj.钢性，坚硬 | |
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144
stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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145
wireless
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| adj.无线的；n.无线电 | |
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146
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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147
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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148
repartee
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| n.机敏的应答 | |
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149
joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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150
resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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151
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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152
blasphemous
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| adj.亵渎神明的，不敬神的 | |
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153
philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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154
dilemma
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| n.困境，进退两难的局面 | |
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prohibition
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| n.禁止；禁令，禁律 | |
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deceptive
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| adj.骗人的，造成假象的，靠不住的 | |
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offhand
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| adj.临时，无准备的；随便，马虎的 | |
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158
revolve
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| vi.(使)旋转；循环出现 | |
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centripetal
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| adj.向心的 | |
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starch
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| n.淀粉；vt.给...上浆 | |
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161
chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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conceit
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| n.自负，自高自大 | |
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revolving
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| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
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dynamics
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| n.力学，动力学，动力，原动力；动态 | |
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166
walnut
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| n.胡桃，胡桃木，胡桃色，茶色 | |
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census
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| n.(官方的)人口调查，人口普查 | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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asymmetrical
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| adj.不均匀的，不对称的 | |
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171
loathes
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| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的第三人称单数 )；极不喜欢 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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respiration
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| n.呼吸作用；一次呼吸；植物光合作用 | |
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superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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175
psychic
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| n.对超自然力敏感的人；adj.有超自然力的 | |
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176
phenomena
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| n.现象 | |
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177
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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178
garrulous
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| adj.唠叨的，多话的 | |
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sculptors
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| 雕刻家，雕塑家( sculptor的名词复数 )； [天]玉夫座 | |
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insinuating
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| adj.曲意巴结的，暗示的v.暗示( insinuate的现在分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
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crooks
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| n.骗子( crook的名词复数 )；罪犯；弯曲部分；（牧羊人或主教用的）弯拐杖v.弯成钩形( crook的第三人称单数 ) | |
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182
cuffs
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| n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打，拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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183
cocktails
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| n.鸡尾酒( cocktail的名词复数 )；餐前开胃菜；混合物 | |
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callouses
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| n.硬皮，老茧( callous的名词复数 )v.（使）硬结，（使）起茧( callous的第三人称单数 )；（使）冷酷无情 | |
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185
straps
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| n.带子( strap的名词复数 )；挎带；肩带；背带v.用皮带捆扎( strap的第三人称单数 )；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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186
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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187
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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188
prunes
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| n.西梅脯，西梅干( prune的名词复数 )v.修剪（树木等）( prune的第三人称单数 )；精简某事物，除去某事物多余的部分 | |
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189
rambling
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| adj.[建]凌乱的，杂乱的 | |
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190
anatomy
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| n.解剖学，解剖；功能，结构，组织 | |
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191
sham
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| n./adj.假冒(的)，虚伪(的) | |
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192
hypocrisy
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| n.伪善，虚伪 | |
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winces
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| 避开，畏缩( wince的名词复数 ) | |
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194
bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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195
banter
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| n.嘲弄，戏谑；v.取笑，逗弄，开玩笑 | |
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196
purging
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| 清洗； 清除； 净化； 洗炉 | |
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197
cathartic
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| adj.宣泄情绪的；n.泻剂 | |
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198
impartially
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| adv.公平地，无私地 | |
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199
mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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200
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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201
satirizing
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| v.讽刺，讥讽( satirize的现在分词 ) | |
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202
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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203
atone
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| v.赎罪，补偿 | |
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