We talk of Prohibition3 as a good thing for the generations to come; but how about disregard for the law as it will affect our children and our children’s children? Drunk, they might not be responsible; sober, to their higher selves they are accountable for their shortcomings in regard to our statutes4. A lack of veneration5 for an orderly carrying out of a mandate6 is a serious thing. But to hear the young people talking these days about the sanctity of the Eighteenth Amendment7 is not a heartening experience. They jeer8 at it, and openly roar with laughter when it is mentioned.
No one wishes danger to overwhelm us; but it will, unless something is done to remedy the present abhorrent9 conditions, which, I repeat, are making most of us unhappy. We are entangled10 in too many legal nets; and it is not pleasing and edifying11 to see47 an ex-Judge or jurist who came out strong for Prohibition sitting night after night in a certain restaurant, imbibing12 his cocktail13, creating scandal in a more than crowded room. He is not in his cups these days—only in his demi-tasses. I wonder if he knows what an example he sets to the flappers down the room, and with what derision his high-and-mighty public utterances14 are now greeted whenever he opens his mouth to speak between drinks?
I hear men and women saying all the time, “America is no place to live now. The streets of our large cities at night look like villages in some remote district. Dull, dull, and drab, drab. One more tyrannical law, one shadow of that deep blue which imperils us, and we will go and live abroad—anywhere but here.”
Is that pleasant talk to listen to? Does it make one proud to be an American? It is not well to have such feelings fomenting15 in the hearts of those who honestly and sincerely love their native land—love it so much that during a terrible war they were proud to offer to die for it, or allow their sons to die for it.
But this is not the time to desert the old Ship of State. Now, as never before, the United States needs its best blood, its best workers, its best citizens, to put the country back where it belongs.
It is because I love America so, that I do not wish to see her make a complete fool of herself—as she is doing every day now. And I say it as loudly48 as I can, that these pernicious laws, this spirit of verboten, is only making the world safe for De-mockery-cy.
It was Montaigne who said that he was “of the opinion that it would be better for us to have no laws at all than to have them in so prodigious16 numbers as we have.” And that was how long ago? What would he write and think of America if he could live among us today?
And further he said, knowing human nature as few of us know it: “There is no man so good, who, were he to submit all his thoughts and actions to the laws, would not deserve hanging ten times in his life.”
Yet the silly law-makers go on with their silly codes, piling Pelion on the top of Ossa, till all sight of man’s frailty17 is lost. “A little folly18 is desirable in him that will not be guilty of stupidity.”
Yet the letter of the law must be upheld, and the very men who make our statutes continue to break them.
The joke may go too far. The American people may remember that “eternal vigilance is the price of liberty” and be willing to watch and wait, lest that most precious of all things be taken away from them.
There can be no disputing the fact that a law that is not enforced is worse than no law at all. Law and order—that is the phrase. But America is a country of law and disorder19; and the worst of49 it all is that the reformers refuse to stop where they have. They are preparing to plunge20 us into even deeper gloom. Why should they rest, having been so eminently21 successful already?
We used to laugh tolerantly at the compulsory22 military service of the Germans, under the Kaiser; but isn’t a compulsory seat upon the water-wagon just about as autocratic?
“Dry Country, ’Tis of Thee,” should be our national anthem24—since we are seriously looking for one to take the place of the too-difficult-to-sing “Star-Spangled Banner.” But no; the words would not ring true. For there is a wetness all around us, and the lyric25 of a national anthem should at least seek to express the ideals and aspirations26 of a people, in terms of truth.
Yet before Prohibition, who would have thought of picking out America as the wettest of all countries? We were just moderately so. We had no desire to get a reputation for excessive dampness. It is the drys who have given us that reputation—against our will. And the pity of it is that the tag will remain—even after we are sanely27 and becomingly wet again.
The reformers wish no going back to even a semblance28 of the old ways and days. They wish us to conform, sedately29, forgetting that Emerson once wrote, “Whoso would be a man must be a non-conformist.”
And somehow I go on believing in Emerson.
50 There was some wild talk, not so many months ago, that it might become lawful30 to dispense31 government-approved beer from the soda32-fountains; but sensible people who care for their toddy—delectable word!—were not thrilled. They no more wish beer served from soda-fountains than they wish soda-water served from soda-fountains. They want their toddy. And when they say so, firmly, “Oh, dear!” and “Oh, my!” and “This is awful!” cry the Prohibitionists.
I always somehow get back to that argument of the upholders of the Eighteenth Amendment to the effect that Prohibition is a good thing—particularly for the next generation. I feel like asking them, in absolute seriousness, Then why not look to the soda-fountain?
When I was a lad we used to drink simple little things like vanilla33, strawberry and chocolate sodas—at five cents apiece. And we were happy over harmless lemon and cherry phosphates. Yet the other day when I chanced to step into a confectionery shop, I was nonplussed34 to hear sophisticated flappers (what tautology35!) ordering raspberry nut sundaes and banana splits with chocolate sauce, and other concoctions36 which my bewildered brain refuses to remember. And when I saw the little silver dishes heaped with these vicious sweets, I was horrified37. Gluttony, pure and simple. And what of dyspepsia, and indigestion, and complexions38, after partaking for a few weeks of such stuff? Does no51 one care enough for the coming race to do something about it?
I have seen hulking men enter such a shop at nine in the morning, hastily tear off an ice-cream soda, containing I know not what flavoring, and dash out again into the world of business. What must the lining39 of their stomachs be like? No habitual40 drunkard could show a worse record, I imagine. And of the two evil-doers, I would prefer the latter. At least he is human. The soda-fiend is a sensualist, knowing nothing of the healthy ecstasy41 of comradeship. He is a solitary42 drinker of the worst sort; and though he may not stagger out of the place, he is certainly unfit to begin his day’s work—just as unfit as the fool who makes it a practice to take a nip of Scotch43 before breakfast.
Seriously, here is work for the reformers. Let them investigate the kind of mixtures that are served to our youngsters at soda-counters. One-half of one per cent of raspberry should be all that is permitted. A solemn bill should be introduced into the next legislature, and carried by an overwhelming majority. It is unthinkable that our youth should be exposed to the evils of sundaes, sold openly all along our avenues and boulevards, in every city and town and hamlet. It is madness to let this traffic go on.
And there are not even any swinging-doors to hide the sundae fiends. Shamelessly they imbibe44 their drinks with the world passing the unshaded52 windows, looking in at them. A shocking state of affairs. Yet who is doing anything about it? No wonder little Alice, of the pale face, does not eat much luncheon45. Her mother worries over her anemic condition; yet she will not take the time to investigate the child’s daily habits. She never inquires how she spends her allowance. And young Bobby, who formerly46 was so rosy47 and plump, deteriorates48 into a consumptive-looking boy. No, he doesn’t smoke; and as yet he has not acquired the hip-flask habit. What, then, is the matter with him, that he drops out of baseball and has no heart for tennis; that he is backward in his studies, and sleeps restlessly? On his way to school he stops in at the soda-fountain. And on his way home, he stops in once more. Surely the Government should issue cards, and make it a misdemeanor for a clerk to serve more than one soda a week to minors—and grown-ups. The Board of Health should do something about it.
You see, if it isn’t one thing it’s another in this troubled world. No sooner do we mop up the saloon than we find other places in need of mopping. Parents and social workers, here is a job for you. Get at it, at once. Forthwith. Instanter. Immediately. The future welfare of the race is at stake.
If it were only ginger-pop that the children drank! But here again one cannot control the appetites of human beings. We have closed the corner saloon. Is there no way of closing the corner soda-fountain?
53 It is curious, in these days when there is so much understanding, even among flappers, of psycho-analysis and complexes, that no one seems to have called attention to the fact that the prohibitionists are the greatest living examples of certain distressing50 inhibitions.
That the majority of us should find ourselves suddenly dictated51 to—told, literally53, what we should and should not put into our own little private tummies—is beyond belief. What does a man who has never taken a drink know of the psychology54 of drink? What does he know of good-fellowship, of the poetry of the toast, of the beauties of Brüderschaft? I would as soon think of Dr. Mary Walker telling Romeo and Juliet how to make love.
The set lips of the fanatical reformer are the outward evidence of an interior set of corroding55 inhibitions. Unable to get relief from the tedium56 of existence in, say, a town like Gopher Prairie, the subject moves, in his or her later years, to Minneapolis or some other larger city, and is next heard of as a professional reformer of one sort or another.
I remember a young man in my class at school who was impossible as a playboy because he always wanted to rule the roost, to dictate52 everlastingly57 the manner in which any game we sought to enjoy should be played. He was never content to be just one of us. Oh, no! He must run things, order us about, be a dictator and a little czar, an autocrat23 of the most unbending kind. We despised him. He could54 never fall into line and be boyishly human. He could not yield; he could not adjust himself to the spirit of fun which we others abandoned ourselves to with youthful ease. He was just a common scold.
He disappeared from our school-yard, and from our lives. Years later, when the War broke out, he turned up in a remote town as a shrieking58 radical59. Nothing was right. He had worked out his destiny in the only way such a nature as his could possibly do. He wasn’t a good sport. Worse, he wasn’t even a good citizen. He didn’t amount to a row of pins. He wasn’t even worth interning60. He wasn’t interesting enough to get the slightest notoriety—he wasn’t what the newspapers term good copy; and that broke his heart.
I have no doubt that now, with the War over, he is a professional prohibitionist—or do I mean inhibitionist?—with a soft job at some desk. He would never be happy anywhere; but in such a position, interfering61 with normal people’s happiness, he would be as happy as he could be.
It is exactly men and women like him who have slipped over some of the laws we now have and who are planning statutes against staying away from church on Sunday. But it’s an old story. The intelligent people in every community are forever allowing themselves to be duped by fortune-tellers and ouija-board manipulators, table-tippers, snake doctors and bell-tinkling “mediums.”
A dog-in-the-manger spirit is in the land. “I55 don’t like a glass of wine—I’ve never tasted the nasty stuff—so I don’t want you to taste it!” This is the cry of the paid reformers who eke62 out a living by taking up some fad63, and, having nothing interesting of their own to reveal, peep and eavesdrop and reveal the interesting traits of their innocently jovial64 and erstwhile happy brothers.
We have enough complexities65 in our modern life without having the complexes of these would-be and self-constituted evangelists made public day by day. Of course, the natural human being is he who indulges in everything—in moderation. Show me the man who constantly denies himself something, and I will show you an abnormal man. He becomes obsessed66 with his “goodness,” as he dares to call it; and he cannot talk ten minutes without mentioning his idée fixe. He revels67 in it. He gloats over it. He delights in it, just as the monks68 of old delighted in the hair-shirt and self-flagellation. He thinks he is better than we are. Soon he begins to preach. He is like the old woman who committed a sin in her early youth and still loves to talk about it. He does not know how boring he is. He does not know how little a part he plays in society. He is just a bit “off,” a trifle queer.
The next step in this form of madness is to try to impose one’s own ideas upon one’s neighbors. Soon proselytizing69 must be done. The pent-up energy of years must be released in middle age. Steam must be let off. Blood pressure must be reduced. If56 these “cases” would only lock themselves up in cells and flagellate themselves, they would find comfort and release from their agony of mind, and a weary world would be grateful. But no! they must stalk through the land, imposing70 their so-called moral rectitude upon the rest of us.
Good-naturedly we have, up to now, humored them, smiled tolerantly at them, secretly pitied them. But with shrewdness and cruelty they have plotted and planned for years, quietly banded together, until now they are joined in a great brotherhood71; and instead of locking themselves up, they have locked us up—and maliciously72, gleefully thrown away the key. We should have been their keepers. Instead, they are ours.
An occasional little spree, as a wise Frenchman once said, never hurt anybody. It is necessary for people of imagination to romp73 and play once in a while. What form that romping74 and playing takes is their own affair—so long as they do not injure their neighbors. They may express themselves in terms of smoking, of flirting75, or sitting up all night and talking their heads off; or they may take a long walk in the rain; or go to the movies for several hours; or read an exciting but impossible detective story—which is by no means a waste of time; or dance; or go fishing; or attend an Elks76 picnic; or buy their wives a diamond bracelet77; or indulge in an after-dinner speech; or see a foolish musical comedy. There are a thousand and one ways to let off steam.57 They come back from any one of these “dissipations” a hundred per cent better in mind and body, and plunge into the serious business of life with a fresh stimulus79, a new zest80.
But the prohibitionist—what form do his inhibitions take? His orgy is one of complete surrender to an orgy of holding in, forever. He never lets go—never—not for one second. And just as the hermit81 enjoys his self-imposed solitude82, he revels in his self-inflicted punishment; and, without wishing to be cynical83, I say that he gets a certain drab satisfaction in this stupid disciplining of himself. The remorse84 of the morning-after is unknown to him. But without realizing it, every morning he experiences a mental hang-over. He has never lived through one normal day. The pendulum85, for him, swings completely in the other direction; and he is happy only when he is unhappy. But—and here’s where you and I come in—he is not content with this exquisite86 unhappiness. He wants us to be unhappy, too!
Pathological, you see. Heretofore, the temperance people looked upon all drinkers, heavy or light, as wounded souls—medical cases. But we who drink and smoke and laugh in moderation are the normal people of the world. The others are those who are in need of treatment. The tables have been turned, thanks to psycho-analysis, and Freud, and the open door that leads to the light of medical science. A bunch of sour grapes have robbed us of58 our sweet grapes. Why? Because they could not stand the thought of Joy being in the world. They want everyone to be as miserable87 as they are.
Having succeeded so easily in taking away one of our joys, do you think these fanatics88 are content? If so, you know them not. Their victory has been accomplished89 so simply that, of course, they are now looking about for new worlds to conquer. They set their mouths, grit90 their teeth, look us over, impale91 us on a pin and see where next they can turn on the screws. They take a fiendish delight in inflicting92 punishment. That is part of their disease. Their suppressed desires find expression in robbing us of our natural pleasure. They are cunning and keen and wise, with the curious and dangerous wisdom of the insane. They think they are sent into the world to redeem93 it. They have the Messiah complex. They have the delusion94 of greatness. And when we venture to question their methods and motives95, they hurl96 invectives back at us and cry, “You are persecuting97 us!” They have paranoia98, you see. They would kill us, actually, rather than give us one sip78 of beer.
And these are the people who have, temporarily, gained the upper hand! Mad on one subject, they appear perfectly99 balanced while lobbying in the legislatures of the land. Obsessed with one idea, they can talk intelligently on every other subject; but sooner or later they will switch the conversation to their pet theory—and then I ask you to note the59 gleam in their eyes, see their lips twitch100, watch how nervous they become! Yes, pathological cases, every one of them!
When will the hard-shelled prohibitionists understand that it is not drink per se that thinking people are fighting for? The people are roused to action and alarm because of the dangerous precedent101 that has been set. If we, as a nation, are to be deprived of legitimate102 and friendly egg-nog (lovely word again!) when New Year comes round, why, in the name of heaven, can we not be deprived of eggs? They make one bilious103, I am told. And biliousness104 is bad for one. Come, let us correct it.
But, having taken away the dangerous egg, let us poke105 about and see what else one can remove. Ah! there it is, of course! Coffee! Coffee makes one nervous. Nervousness is awful. Coffee keeps one awake. But why remain awake in a world that has lost its glamour106? Remove our coffee, then! Gladly we permit you to take it; for then we can go blissfully to sleep and forget our worries and cares.
It has been loudly denied that lobbying is being done to bring about the passage of further drastic laws; but the busybodies are secretly working, night and day. The deadly work goes on, unabated. Of course they are not crying their methods from the housetops. Sinister107 forces are burrowing108 deep, and frightened legislators will be forced to follow the path they took before the Eighteenth Amendment went through.
60 You remember that wonderfully satirical story of Mark Twain’s, “The Man That Corrupted109 Hadleyburg,” don’t you, and what happened to a town that imposed righteousness upon the inhabitants? All temptation having been beneficently removed, when one little chance came to misbehave, the entire village leaped at it and was thoroughly110 corrupted.
There is some fun in passing a saloon, in going voluntarily on the water-wagon, in refusing that extra cocktail; there is none whatever in having someone else do it for you.
Our prayers may be dictated to us next. But something tells us that if prohibitionists formulate111 them, they have no more chance than ours of being heard in heaven. A world made safe for us by reformers is the last kind of world we care to dwell in. For reformers are the kind of people who paint heaven as a stupid city of golden streets and pearly gates, and incessant112 singing and playing of harps113. Well, as Omar said, “thy heaven is not mine.”
Prohibitionists, I am genuinely sorry for you. You need not pity me, for I shall go on doing as I please, despite you. And so will millions of other good Americans. Does that make you frantically114 desperate? Does that make you have another attack of your symptoms? Do you puff115 up with rage and despair when you hear me say such things in open defiance116 of you?
Keeper, bring in the straitjacket, and sweep out, as Goldberg says, padded cell No. 7,894,502,431.61 For the pathological ward49 is overcrowded today. They have just brought in a frightfully red-faced man who believes in the Blue Laws; and he must have gone quite mad, for he is singing what he claims is the new national anthem, “Three Cheers for the Red, White and Blues117!”
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dire
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| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
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seeping
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| v.（液体）渗( seep的现在分词 )；渗透；渗出；漏出 | |
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prohibition
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| n.禁止；禁令，禁律 | |
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statutes
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| 成文法( statute的名词复数 )； 法令； 法规； 章程 | |
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veneration
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| n.尊敬，崇拜 | |
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mandate
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| n.托管地；命令，指示 | |
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amendment
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| n.改正，修正，改善，修正案 | |
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jeer
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| vi.嘲弄，揶揄；vt.奚落；n.嘲笑，讥评 | |
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abhorrent
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| adj.可恶的，可恨的，讨厌的 | |
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entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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edifying
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| adj.有教训意味的，教训性的，有益的v.开导，启发( edify的现在分词 ) | |
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imbibing
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| v.吸收( imbibe的现在分词 )；喝；吸取；吸气 | |
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cocktail
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| n.鸡尾酒；餐前开胃小吃；混合物 | |
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utterances
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| n.发声( utterance的名词复数 )；说话方式；语调；言论 | |
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fomenting
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| v.激起，煽动（麻烦等）( foment的现在分词 ) | |
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prodigious
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frailty
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| n.脆弱；意志薄弱 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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eminently
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| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
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compulsory
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| n.强制的，必修的；规定的，义务的 | |
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autocrat
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| n.独裁者；专横的人 | |
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anthem
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| n.圣歌，赞美诗，颂歌 | |
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lyric
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| n.抒情诗，歌词；adj.抒情的 | |
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aspirations
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| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
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sanely
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| ad.神志清楚地 | |
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semblance
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sedately
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| adv.镇静地，安详地 | |
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lawful
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| adj.法律许可的，守法的，合法的 | |
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dispense
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| vt.分配，分发；配(药)，发(药)；实施 | |
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soda
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| n.苏打水；汽水 | |
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vanilla
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| n.香子兰，香草 | |
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nonplussed
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| adj.不知所措的，陷于窘境的v.使迷惑( nonplus的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tautology
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concoctions
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horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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complexions
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| 肤色( complexion的名词复数 )； 面色； 局面； 性质 | |
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lining
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| n.衬里，衬料 | |
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habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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imbibe
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| v.喝，饮；吸入，吸收 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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deteriorates
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| 恶化，变坏( deteriorate的第三人称单数 ) | |
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49
ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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50
distressing
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| a.使人痛苦的 | |
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51
dictated
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| v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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52
dictate
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| v.口授；(使)听写；指令，指示，命令 | |
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53
literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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54
psychology
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| n.心理，心理学，心理状态 | |
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55
corroding
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| 使腐蚀，侵蚀( corrode的现在分词 ) | |
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56
tedium
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| n.单调；烦闷 | |
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57
everlastingly
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| 永久地，持久地 | |
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58
shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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59
radical
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| n.激进份子，原子团，根号；adj.根本的，激进的，彻底的 | |
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60
interning
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| v.拘留，关押( intern的现在分词 ) | |
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61
interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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62
eke
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| v.勉强度日，节约使用 | |
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63
fad
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| n.时尚；一时流行的狂热；一时的爱好 | |
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64
jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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65
complexities
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| 复杂性(complexity的名词复数)； 复杂的事物 | |
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obsessed
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| adj.心神不宁的,鬼迷心窍的,沉迷的 | |
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67
revels
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| n.作乐( revel的名词复数 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉v.作乐( revel的第三人称单数 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
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68
monks
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| n.修道士，僧侣( monk的名词复数 ) | |
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69
proselytizing
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| v.（使）改变宗教信仰[政治信仰、意见等]，使变节( proselytize的现在分词 ) | |
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70
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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71
brotherhood
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| n.兄弟般的关系，手中情谊 | |
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72
maliciously
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| adv.有敌意地 | |
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73
romp
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| n.欢闹；v.嬉闹玩笑 | |
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74
romping
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| adj.嬉戏喧闹的，乱蹦乱闹的v.嬉笑玩闹( romp的现在分词 )；（尤指在赛跑或竞选等中）轻易获胜 | |
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75
flirting
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| v.调情，打情骂俏( flirt的现在分词 ) | |
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76
elks
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| n.麋鹿( elk的名词复数 ) | |
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77
bracelet
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| n.手镯，臂镯 | |
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78
sip
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| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
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stimulus
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| n.刺激，刺激物，促进因素，引起兴奋的事物 | |
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80
zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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81
hermit
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| n.隐士，修道者；隐居 | |
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82
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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83
cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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84
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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85
pendulum
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| n.摆，钟摆 | |
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86
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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88
fanatics
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| 狂热者，入迷者( fanatic的名词复数 ) | |
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89
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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grit
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| n.沙粒，决心，勇气；v.下定决心，咬紧牙关 | |
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impale
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| v.用尖物刺某人、某物 | |
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92
inflicting
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的现在分词 ) | |
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93
redeem
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| v.买回，赎回，挽回，恢复，履行（诺言等） | |
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delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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95
motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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96
hurl
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| vt.猛投，力掷，声叫骂 | |
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97
persecuting
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| （尤指宗教或政治信仰的）迫害(~sb. for sth.)( persecute的现在分词 )； 烦扰，困扰或骚扰某人 | |
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98
paranoia
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| n.妄想狂，偏执狂；多疑症 | |
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99
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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100
twitch
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| v.急拉，抽动，痉挛，抽搐；n.扯，阵痛，痉挛 | |
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101
precedent
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| n.先例，前例；惯例；adj.在前的，在先的 | |
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102
legitimate
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| adj.合法的，合理的，合乎逻辑的；v.使合法 | |
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103
bilious
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| adj.胆汁过多的；易怒的 | |
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104
biliousness
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| [医] 胆汁质 | |
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105
poke
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| n.刺，戳，袋；vt.拨开，刺，戳；vi.戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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106
glamour
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| n.魔力，魅力；vt.迷住 | |
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107
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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108
burrowing
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| v.挖掘（洞穴），挖洞( burrow的现在分词 )；翻寻 | |
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109
corrupted
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| （使）败坏( corrupt的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）腐化； 引起（计算机文件等的）错误； 破坏 | |
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110
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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111
formulate
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| v.用公式表示；规划；设计；系统地阐述 | |
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112
incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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113
harps
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| abbr.harpsichord 拨弦古钢琴n.竖琴( harp的名词复数 ) | |
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114
frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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115
puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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116
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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117
blues
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| n.抑郁，沮丧；布鲁斯音乐 | |
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