Long years ago, when the world was just beginning to be, there was a kingdom which was not yet finished. Of course when a world has just stopped being nothing and is beginning to be something, it takes a great while to set all the kingdoms going. And this one wasn’t done.
For example, in the palace garden where little Peter used to play, the strangest things were to be met. For the mineral kingdom was just beginning to be vegetable, and the vegetable was just beginning to be animal, and the animal was just beginning to be man,—and man was just, just beginning to know about his living78 spirit. Do you see what that means? While you looked at a mound1 of earth it became a bush—or a very little time afterward2, as time in these things is reckoned. While you looked at a beast-shaped bush—all bushes at night are shaped like beasts—it became a living animal—or, again, a very little afterward. And men had by no means got over being apes, tigers, swine, and dogs, and sometimes you hardly knew which a man was, a real man or one of these animals. And spirits were growing in men as fast as this might be. Everything, you see, lay in savage3 angles and wild lines.
Little Peter was playing one morning in the palace garden, and such playing as it was! He would be moulding little balls of loam4 and fashioning them with seeds, when suddenly they would break into life as buds and then as flowers, almost as one now sees twigs5 of wood break into life, or as quiet cocoons6 become living butterflies—for the world is not so different. Or Peter would be playing with a spongy-looking mass on a rock in the brook7, when it would break from its rock and go gayly swimming about, and be a fish-thing. Or he would push at a bit of ooze8 with a cat-tail, and a little79 flying life would mount abruptly9 and wing away. It was exciting playing in those days, and some of the things you can do in these days. Only then it was all new, so Peter could see just how wonderful it was.
Now, that morning the king was walking in his palace garden. And he was troubled, for everywhere that he looked there were loose ends and rough edges, and shapeless things waiting to be fashioned, and it was so all over his kingdom. There was such a great lot to do that he could not possibly do it all alone—no king, however industrious10, could have done it all. And he longed for the help of all his subjects. So when the king came on little Peter, busily making living things where none had been before, he was mightily11 pleased, and he sat down with the little lad on a grassy12 platform in the midst of the garden.
“Lo, now, little lad,” said the king, “what do you play?”
Instead of playing at keeping store or keeping house or at acting13 or hunting or exploring, little Peter was playing another game.
80 “Lo, now,” said the king, “I would that all my subjects would play as well as you.”
The king thought for a moment, looking out on all the savage angles and wild lines, while little Peter watched a bit of leaf mould becoming a green plant.
So the servants summoned the hundred heralds, who hurried into their blue velvet16 and silver buckles17 and came marching, twenty abreast18, across the grassy plateau, where the morning sun made patterns like wings, and among the wings they bowed themselves and asked the king his will.
“Hundred heralds,” said the king, “be it only that you do this willingly, I would that you go out into my kingdom, into its highways and even to its loneliest outposts, and take my people my message. Cry to them, until each one hears with his heart as well as his head: ‘The world is beginning. You must go and help the king.’”
Now, little Peter, when he heard the message, rose and stood beside the king, and in his breast something thrilled and trembled like a smitten19 chord. But as for the hundred heralds, they81 were troubled as one man—though he not yet wholly a man.
“O king,” they said, twenty at a time, “blue velvet and silver buckles are meet for the streets of cities and to call men to feasting and to honour the king. But as for the highways and the loneliest outposts—that is another matter.”
“But what of the message?” the king asked sadly, and this none of the heralds knew how to answer; and presently the king sent them away, for he would never have unwilling20 service in his palace or in his kingdom. And as they went, little Peter looked after them, and he saw, and the king saw, that for all their blue velvet and silver buckles, the hundred heralds, marching away twenty abreast, were not yet all men, but partly they were apes in manner and swine at heart. And little Peter wondered if he fashioned them as he did his bits of mould, whether they would burst from a sheath, all men, as burst his little plants.
“Summon me my thousand trumpeters!” the king bade his servants next.
The thousand trumpeters hurried into their purple velvet and their lace collars and seized their silver trumpets22, and came marching fifty82 abreast across the grassy plateau, where the noon sun made a blinding light, like the light of another sun; and they bowed themselves in the brightness and asked the king his will.
But when the king had told them his will and had repeated the message and asked them if they could go willingly, the thousand trumpeters were troubled as one man—and he not yet wholly a man.
“O king,” said they, in fifties and one hundreds, “lo, now, these silver trumpets. These are meet to sound up and down the streets of cities and to call men to feasting and to honour the king, and never are they meet to sound in the lonely outposts. Pray thee, O king, keep us near thee.”
“But what of the message?” the king asked, and none of his trumpeters could help him there, and he would have no unwilling service in his palace or in his kingdom, so he sent them all away. And as they went, little Peter looked after them, and he saw, and the king saw, that for all their purple velvet and lace collars, the thousand trumpeters, marching away fifty abreast, were not all men, but they were apes in manner and swine and hounds at heart. And83 little Peter almost wished that he could fashion them as he did his bits of mould and see if they would not change into something better.
So then the king called a meeting of his High Council, and his councillors hurried into their robes of state and appeared on the grassy plateau when the evening was lighting23 the place to be a glory.
“Lo, now,” said the king, “I needs must send a message to all my people. Let us devise or dream some way to take it.”
When they heard the message, the councillors nodded, with their hands over their mouths, looking at the ground.
Then the king said—there, in the beginning of the world:—
“I have a thought about a wire which shall reach round the earth and oversea and undersea, on which a man may send a message. And a thought I have about a wire which shall stretch across the land, and upon that wire a voice may travel alone. And a thought about messages that shall pierce the air with no wire and no voice. But none of these things is now.”
(“Nay,” said the council, murmuring among themselves, “or ever shall be.”)
84 “—and if they were,” said the king, “I would have one serve me even better than these, to reach the head and the heart of my people. How shall I do this thing? For I must have help in finishing my kingdom.”
The council, stepping about in the slanting24 light, disputed the matter, group by group, but there lay nowhere, it seemed, a conclusion.
“You yourselves,” the king cried at last, “who know well that the kingdom must be completed, you yourselves gather the people in multitudes together and tell them the message.”
“Who would sit in the high places if we did that?” said they.
So the king sent them all away, and little Peter, standing26 beside the king, looked after them. And he saw, and the king saw, how, under their robes of state, the High Council had not entirely27 stopped being ape and swine and hound and tiger and, early in the world as it was, still there seemed no great excuse for that.
“Oh, sire,” said little Peter, “I wish I could play with them as I play with my bits of mould85 and loam and could turn them into something better and alive.”
“Well said, little Peter,” replied the king, smiling sadly.
And now the west, which had been like a vast, stained-glass window, streaming with warm light, fell into gray opaqueness28, and the grassy plateau became a place of shadows in which night things were born gently. And the king looked away to the beast-shaped bushes and to all the striving land.
“Oh, my kingdom, my kingdom!” he cried, grieving. “Now, would that this little Peter here could help you in the making.”
And then little Peter stood upright in the faint light.
“May it please the king,” he said softly, “I will take the message to his people.”
The king stared down at him.
“You?” he said. “You, little man? And how, pray, would you take my message?”
“May it please the king,” said little Peter, “I would tell everyone in the kingdom till all should have been told.”
86 “Ay,” said the little lad, “I think that is what I am. I would that I be not Peter, but Trumpeter. So send me forth29.”
At this the king laughed, and for the laughter his heart was the lighter30. He touched the boy’s brow.
“See, then, I touch your brow, little Trumpeter,” he said. “Go forth—and do you know my message?”
“You had first touched my heart, your majesty,” said the little boy, “and the message is there.”
You would think, perhaps, that Peter would have waited till the morning, but he would not wait an hour. He made a little packet of linen31 and of food, and just as the folk within the palace were beginning their evening revelry, he stepped out on the highway and fared forth under the moon.
But fancy walking on such a highway as that! At first glance it looked like any other night road, stretching between mysterious green. But not anything there could be depended upon to stay as it was. A hillock, lying a little way ahead, became, as he reached it, a plumy shrub32, trembling with amazement33 at its transformation87 from dead earth to living green. At a turn in the road, a low bush suddenly walked away into the wood, a four-footed animal. Everything changed as he looked at it, as if nothing were meant to be merely what it was. The world was beginning!
At the foot of a hill, where the shadows were thick, Peter met the first one to whom he could give his message. The man was twisted and ragged34 and a beggar, and he peered down in Peter’s face horribly.
“Sir,” said Peter, courteously35, “the world is beginning. You must go and help the king.”
“Help the king!” cried the beggar, and his voice was uneven36, like a bark or a whine37 that was turning into words. “I can’t help the king without my supper.”
“Supper is only supper,” said little Peter, who had never in his life been hungry. “One must help the king—that is more.”
The beggar struck the ground with his staff.
“I’m hungry,” he said like a bark. “I want some supper and some dinner and all the way back to breakfast before I help the king, world or no world!”
And suddenly little Peter understood what it88 is to be hungry, and that, if folk were hungry, they must first find means of feeding themselves before they could listen. So he gave the beggar all that he had of food in his packet, which was the least that he could do, and sent him on his way, charging him with the message.
At the top of the hill, Peter came on another man, sitting under a sycamore tree. The man was a youth, and very beautiful, and he was making a little song, which went like this:—
You shall be a flower.”
Though Peter did not know what the song might mean, yet it fell sweetly upon the night, and he liked to listen. And when it was done, he went and stood before the youth.
“Sir,” he said, “the world is beginning. You must go and help the king.”
“I know, I know, little lad,” said the youth, and his voice was clear, like bird-notes that were turning into words. “I, too, tell the message, making it in a song.”
And these words made Peter glad, so that his89 strength was new, and he ran on with the poet’s gentle music in his ears.
I cannot tell you how far Peter went, but he went very far, and to many a lonely outpost, and away and away on a drear frontier. It was long to go and hard to do, but that is the way the world is made; and little Peter went on, now weary, now frightened, now blithe41, now in good company, now alone and in the dark. I cannot tell you all the adventures he had and all the things he did—perhaps you will know these in some other way, sometime. And there were those to whom he told the message who listened, or set out in haste for the king’s palace; and some promised that they would go another day, and a few ran to tell others. But many and many were like the hundred heralds and the thousand trumpeters and the king’s High Council, and found many a reason why they might not set out. And some there were who mocked Peter, saying that the world indeed was doing very well without their help and would work itself out if only one would wait; and others would not even listen to the little lad.
At last, one morning when the whole world seemed glad that it was beginning and seemed to90 long to tell about it, little Peter entered a city, decorated for a festival. Everywhere were garlands of vines and of roses, bright rugs and fluttering pennons and gilded43 things, as if the world had been long enough begun so that already there were time to take holidays. The people were flooding the streets and crowding the windows, and through their holiday dress Peter could see how some minced44 and mocked a little like apes, and others peered about like giraffes, and others ravened45 for food and joy, like the beggar or the bear or the tiger, and others kept the best, like swine, or skulked46 like curs, or plodded47 like horses, or prattled48 like parrots. Animals ran about, dumb like the vegetables they had eaten. Vegetables were heaped in the stalls, mysterious as the earth which they had lately been. The buildings were piled up to resemble the hills from whose substance they had been created, and their pillars were fashioned like trees. Everywhere were the savage angles and wild lines of one thing turning into another. And Peter longed to help to fashion them all, as he fashioned his little balls of mould and loam.
“There is so much yet to do,” thought little91 Peter, “I wonder that they take so much time for holidays.”
So he ran quickly to a high, white place in the midst of the town, where they were making ready to erect49 the throne of the king of the carnival50, and on that he stood and cried:—
“Hear me—hear me! The world is beginning. You must go and help the king.”
Now, if those about the carnival throne had only said: “What is that to us? Go away!” Peter would have been warned. But they only nodded, and they said kindly51: “Yes, so it is—and we mean to help presently. Come and help us first!” And one of the revellers, seeing Peter, how little he was, picked him up and held him at arm’s length and cried:—
“Lo, now, this little lad. He is no bigger than a trumpet....”
(That was what the king had said, and it pleased Peter to hear it said again.)
“... Let us take him,” the revellers went on, “and have him for a trumpet. And take him with us in our great procession. What think ye?”
“And may I cry out what message I please?” little Peter asked eagerly.
92 “Surely,” answered all the revellers, gayly. “What is that to us, so that you come with us?”
They picked him up and tossed him on their shoulders—for he was of about a brazen52 trumpet’s weight, no more;—and Peter clapped his hands for joy, for he was a boy and he loved to think that he would be a part of that gorgeous procession. And they took him away to the great tent on the city green where everyone was dressing53 for the carnival.
Peter never had seen anything so strange and wonderful as what was within that tent. In it everything and everybody had just been or was just going to be something or somebody else. Not only had the gay garments piled on the floor just been sheep’s and silkworm’s coats, not only had the colours laid upon them just been roots and stems and herb-leaves, not only had the staves been tree’s boughs54 and elephant’s tusks55, but the very coal burning in the braziers and the oil in the torches had once been sunshine, and the very flames had been air, and before that water, and so on. But, most of all, the people showed what they had been, for in any merry-making the kinds of animals in folk cannot be covered up; and it was a regular menagerie.
93 They took little Peter and dressed him like a trumpet. They thrust both his legs into one long cloth-of-gold stocking, and he held his arms tightly at his sides while they wound his little body in ruffles56 of gold-coloured silk, growing broader and broader into a full-gathered ruff from which his laughing face peeped out. And he was so slender and graceful57 that you could hardly have told him from a real, true, golden trumpet.
Then the procession was ready to start, all lined up in the great tent. And the heralds and the music all burst out at once as the green curtain of the tent was drawn58 aside, and the long, glittering line began to move. Little heralds, darting59 about for all the world like squirrels and chipmunks60; a great elephant of a master of ceremonies, bellowing61 out the order of the day as if he had been presiding over the jungle; a group of men high in the town’s confidence, whose spots proclaimed them once to have been leopards62, and other things; long, lithe42 harlequins descended63 from serpents; little, fat clowns still showing the magpie64; prominent citizens, unable as yet to conceal65 the fox and the wolf in their faces; the mayor of the town, revealing94 the chameleon66 in his blood; little donkey men; and a fine old gentleman or two made like eagles—all of them getting done into men as quickly as possible. In the midst rode the king of the carnival, who had evidently not long since been a lion, and that no doubt was why they picked him out. He rode on a golden car from which sprays of green sprang out to reach from side to side of the broad street. And at his lips, held like a trumpet, he carried little Peter, one hand on Peter’s feet set to the kingly lips, and the other stretched out to Peter’s breast.
“The world is beginning! The world is beginning! The world is beginning! You must go and help the king. You must go-o-o and help the king!”
But just as he cried that, the carnival band struck into a merry march, and all the heralds were calling, and the people were shouting, and Peter’s little voice did not reach very far.
“Shout again!” bade the king of the carnival, who did not care in the least what Peter said, so long only as he acted like a trumpet.
So Peter shouted again—shouted his very95 best. He shouted as loudly as he did at play, as loudly as when he swam and raced in the water, as loudly as any boy could shout. But it seemed to him that his voice carried hardly farther than the little chipmunk-and-squirrel heralds before him, and that nobody heard him.
Still, it was all such fun! The glitter of the procession, the eagerness of the people, the lilt and rhythm of the music. And fun over all was it to be carried by the carnival king himself, high above everyone and dressed like a golden trumpet. Surely, surely no boy ever had more fun than that! Surely, surely it was no great marvel68 that after a little time, so loud was the clamour and so fast the excitement, that Peter stopped crying his message, and merely watched and laughed and delighted with the rest.
Up and down through the thronged69 streets they went, that great, glittering procession, winding71 its mile or more of spangles and gilding72 and gay dress and animals richly caparisoned. Everywhere the crowded walks and windows and balconies sent cheers into the air, everywhere flowers were thrown and messages tossed and melody flooded. And wherever that long line passed, everyone noted73 the king’s trumpet and96 pointed74 it out and clapped hands and tried to throw upon it garlands. And there was so much to see, and so much excitement there was in the hour, that at last little Peter did not even think of his message, and only jested and made merry. For it was the most wonderful game that ever he had played.
“How now, my little trumpeter?” the king of the carnival would say sometimes, when he rested his arms and held Peter at his side.
“Oh, well, your majesty!” Peter would cry, laughing up at him.
“This is all a fine game and nothing more,” the king of the carnival would tell him. “Is this not so?”
Then he would toss the boy on high again, away above the golden car, and Peter would cry out with the delight of it. And though there were no wings and no great brightness in the air, yet the hour was golden and joy was abroad like a person.
Presently, a band of mountebanks, dressed like ploughmen and harvesters, came tumbling and racing75 by the procession, and calling to everyone to come to a corn husking on the city green.
97 “Husks! Husks! A corn husking on the city green. Husks—husks—husks!” they cried.
But there was such a tumult76 that no one could well hear what they said, and presently they appealed to the carnival king to tell the people.
“Nay, O king, they hear us not for the noise of thy passing,” said they. “Prithee tell the people what we would say.”
“Tell the people, my little trumpeter!” cried the king, and lifted Peter to his lips.
And Peter shouted out with all his might.
“Husks! Husks! A corn husking on the city green. Husks—husks—husks!”
“Bravely done!” called the mountebanks, in delight, and ran alongside the car, leaping and tumbling and grotesquely77 showing their delight. “Bravely done! Tell the people—bid the people come!”
So Peter called again, and yet again, at the full strength of his little voice. And it seemed to him that the people surely listened, and it was a delight and a flattery to be the one voice in the great procession, save only the music’s voice.
At last, for one moment it chanced that the98 bands ceased altogether their playing, so that there was an instant of almost silence.
“Husks, husks, husks!” he cried, with all his might.
And as he did that, thin and clear through the silence, vexed78 somewhat by the voices of the people,—now barks, now whines79, now bellows80, now words,—Peter caught a little wandering melody, as though a bird’s singing were turning into words:—
“Open, world, your trembling petals slowly,
Here one, there one, natal to its hour....”
and in the midst of that motley throng70, Peter, looking down, saw the poet whom he had left on the hill-top, now wandering alone and singing his message to his lute81.
“Oh, the king! Oh, my king!” cried little Peter, as if he had had a great wound.
“What now, my little trumpeter?” asked the carnival king.
“Not you—not you!” cried Peter. “Oh, set me down,—set me down. Oh, what have I done?”
“How now, little Trumpet?” cried the carnival king. But Peter, instead of stretching99 out his little body, slim and trumpet-graceful, turned and fell at the king’s feet in the car and slipped from his grasp and scrambled82 through the branching green and reached the street.
There, in the wonder and then the mockery of the people, he began struggling to free himself from the ruffles of cloth-of-gold about his body. Some laughed, some ran from him as if he were mad, and some, wishing for themselves the golden ruffles, helped him to pull them off and to strip down the clinging golden stocking that bound his limbs. And then, being close to the city gates, little Peter ran, all naked as he was, without the gates and on to the empty road. And he ran sobbing83 out his heart:—
“Oh, my king! I would have told them that the world is beginning—but, instead I have told them only to get them husks!”
Now the poet, who had seen it all—and who understood—ceased his song and made his way as quickly as might be for the press of the people, and ran after Peter, and fared along the road beside him, trying to comfort him. But the little lad might not be comforted, and he only cried out again:—
100 “The king—the king! I would have given them his message—and I bade them only to get them husks!”
So the poet—who understood—said no word at all, but he shielded Peter with his mantle84; and then he took his lute and walked beside the little lad, singing.
They had gone but a short distance when they reached the top of a hill, where the sun shone with exceeding brightness, and the poet noted that the light fell almost like little wings. Peter saw none of this, for his hands were still covering his face. But he heard the poet’s singing interrupted by a voice. The voice was uneven—like a bark or a whine that is turning into words—but yet its words were clear and unmistakable. And they were:—
“Sirs, the world is beginning. You must go and help the king.”
Peter looked up and he saw the man who had spoken, a man twisted and ragged, but who smiled down into the little boy’s face so gently that, for a moment, Peter did not know him; and then he recognized that beggar to whom, on that night long ago, he had given food and the message.
101 “Ay, friend!” the poet was answering him ringingly, “and we go!”
The beggar hurried on, and the poet touched Peter’s hand.
“Nay, now, little Peter,” he said, “grieve not your heart too much. For you it was who told the beggar the message—from the top of the hill I heard—and I saw you give him food. Can you tell any man without some good coming true of the tidings? Then it may well be that there are those in the town to whom you told the king’s message who will remember, too. Go we forth together to try again!”
Peter looked down the long highway, stretching between the mysterious green, where shrubs85 changed to animals in so little a space; and then he looked away to the king’s kingdom and saw how it was not finished—because the world had just stopped being nothing and was beginning to be something—and he looked back towards the city where, as at the court, men had not yet done being animals. Everything was changing, as if nothing were meant to be merely what it is. And everything was in savage angles and wild lines. The world was beginning. The people must be told to go and help the king.
102 “Go we forth together to try again,” the poet repeated.
He touched his lute, and its melody slipped into the sunshine.
“Toward the time when, holden in a vessel holy,
You shall be a flower.”
Then Peter stretched out his arms, and his whole slender little body became like one trumpet voice, and that voice strong and clear to reach round the world itself.
“I try once again!” he answered. “The world is beginning. I must go and help the king.”
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
mound
|
|
| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
afterward
|
|
| adv.后来；以后 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
savage
|
|
| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
loam
|
|
| n.沃土 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
twigs
|
|
| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
cocoons
|
|
| n.茧，蚕茧( cocoon的名词复数 )v.茧，蚕茧( cocoon的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
brook
|
|
| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
ooze
|
|
| n.软泥，渗出物；vi.渗出，泄漏；vt.慢慢渗出，流露 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
industrious
|
|
| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
mightily
|
|
| ad.强烈地；非常地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
grassy
|
|
| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
acting
|
|
| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
majesty
|
|
| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
heralds
|
|
| n.使者( herald的名词复数 )；预报者；预兆；传令官v.预示( herald的第三人称单数 )；宣布（好或重要） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
velvet
|
|
| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
buckles
|
|
| 搭扣，扣环( buckle的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
abreast
|
|
| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
smitten
|
|
| 猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
unwilling
|
|
| adj.不情愿的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
trumpet
|
|
| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
trumpets
|
|
| 喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 )； 小号； 喇叭形物； （尤指）绽开的水仙花 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
lighting
|
|
| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
slanting
|
|
| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
twitched
|
|
| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
opaqueness
|
|
| [化] 不透明性，不透明度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
lighter
|
|
| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
linen
|
|
| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
shrub
|
|
| n.灌木，灌木丛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
amazement
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
ragged
|
|
| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
courteously
|
|
| adv.有礼貌地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
uneven
|
|
| adj.不平坦的，不规则的，不均匀的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
whine
|
|
| v.哀号，号哭；n.哀鸣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
petals
|
|
| n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
natal
|
|
| adj.出生的，先天的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
vessel
|
|
| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
blithe
|
|
| adj.快乐的，无忧无虑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
lithe
|
|
| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
gilded
|
|
| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
minced
|
|
| v.切碎( mince的过去式和过去分词 )；剁碎；绞碎；用绞肉机绞（食物，尤指肉） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
ravened
|
|
| v.掠夺（raven的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
skulked
|
|
| v.潜伏，偷偷摸摸地走动，鬼鬼祟祟地活动( skulk的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
plodded
|
|
| 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） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
prattled
|
|
| v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话( prattle的过去式和过去分词 )；发出连续而无意义的声音；闲扯；东拉西扯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
erect
|
|
| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
carnival
|
|
| n.嘉年华会，狂欢，狂欢节，巡回表演 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
brazen
|
|
| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
dressing
|
|
| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
boughs
|
|
| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
tusks
|
|
| n.（象等动物的）长牙( tusk的名词复数 )；獠牙；尖形物；尖头 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
ruffles
|
|
| 褶裥花边( ruffle的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
graceful
|
|
| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
darting
|
|
| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
chipmunks
|
|
| n.金花鼠( chipmunk的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
61
bellowing
|
|
| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的现在分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
leopards
|
|
| n.豹( leopard的名词复数 )；本性难移 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
magpie
|
|
| n.喜欢收藏物品的人，喜鹊，饶舌者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
conceal
|
|
| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
chameleon
|
|
| n.变色龙，蜥蜴；善变之人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
shrill
|
|
| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
marvel
|
|
| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
thronged
|
|
| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
throng
|
|
| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
winding
|
|
| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
gilding
|
|
| n.贴金箔，镀金 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
noted
|
|
| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
racing
|
|
| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
tumult
|
|
| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
grotesquely
|
|
| adv. 奇异地,荒诞地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
vexed
|
|
| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
whines
|
|
| n.悲嗥声( whine的名词复数 )；哀鸣者v.哀号( whine的第三人称单数 )；哀诉，诉怨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
bellows
|
|
| n.风箱；发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的名词复数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的第三人称单数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
lute
|
|
| n.琵琶，鲁特琴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
scrambled
|
|
| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
sobbing
|
|
| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
mantle
|
|
| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
shrubs
|
|
| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |