The weather-beaten gentleman was in such a violent hurry and his mind was so preoccupied7 that he failed to notice the disaster, and was leaving in his wake a trail of slippers8, shirts, hair-brushes, underwear, collars, and what not, that suggested a game of hare-and-hounds. In fact, the treacherous9 suit-case had almost emptied itself before he paid heed10 to the shouts of uproarious laughter from the delighted teamsters, roustabouts, and idlers. With a[Pg 4] snort, he fetched up to glare behind him, and his expression conveyed wrath11 and dismay.
This kind of misfortune, like the case of the man who sits down on his own hat, excites boundless12 mirth but no sympathy whatever. The victim stood stock-still and continued to glare and sputter13 as if here was a situation totally beyond him.
A tall lad, passing that way, jumped to the rescue and began to gather up the scattered14 wreckage15. He was laughing as heartily17 as the rest of them—for the life of him he couldn't help it—but the instincts of a gentleman prompted him to undertake the work of salvage18. As fast as an armful was collected, the owner savagely19 rammed20 it into the suit-case, and when this young friend in need, Walter Goodwin by name, came running up with the last consignment21 he growled22, after fumbling23 in his pockets:
"Not a blessed cent of change left! Come aboard my ship and I'll square it with you. If I had time, I'd punch the heads of a few of those loafing swabs who stood and laughed at me."
"But I don't want to be paid for doing a little favor like that," said Goodwin. "And I[Pg 5] am afraid I laughed, too. It did look funny, honestly."
"You come along and do as I tell you," rumbled24 the heated mariner25, who had paid not the least attention to these remarks. "Do you mind shouldering this confounded bag? I am getting short-winded, and it may fly open again. Had two nights ashore26 with my family in Baltimore—train held up by a wreck16 last night—must have had a poor navigator—made me six hours late—ought to have been aboard ship this morning—I sail at five this afternoon."
He appeared to be talking to himself rather than to Walter Goodwin, who could not refuse further aid. His burly captor was heading in the direction of a black-hulled ocean-steamer which flew the bluepeter at her mast-head. Even the wit of a landsman could not go wrong in surmising27 that this domineering person was her commander. And for all his blustering28 manner, Captain Martin Bradshaw had a trick of pulling down one corner of his mouth in a half smile as if he had a genial29 heart and, given time to cool off and reflect, could perceive the humor of a situation.
[Pg 6]
He charged full-tilt along the wharf, and Walter Goodwin meekly30 followed with the sensation of being yanked at the end of a tow-rope. At the gangway a uniformed officer sang out for a steward31, who touched his cap and took charge of the troublesome piece of luggage. Walter hesitated, but as the skipper pounded along the deck toward the bridge he called back:
"Make yourself at home and look about the ship, my lad. I'll see you as soon as I overhaul32 my papers."
The tall youth had no intention of waiting to be paid for his services, but he lived in an inland town and the deck of a ship was a strange and fascinating place. The Saragossa was almost ready to sail, bound out to the Spanish Main. Many passengers were on board. Among them were several tanned, robust33 men who looked as if they were used to hard work out-of-doors. As Goodwin lingered to watch the pleasant stir and bustle34, one of these rugged35 voyagers was saying to a friend who had come to bid him good-by:
"It's sure the great place for a husky young[Pg 7] fellow with the right stuff in him. There are five thousand of us Americans on the job, and you bet we're making the dirt fly. I was glad to get back to God's country for my six weeks' leave, but I won't be a bit sorry to see the Big Ditch again."
"The United States is plenty good enough for me, Jack37. I don't yearn38 to work in any pest-hole of a tropical climate with yellow-fever and all that. It's no place for a white man."
"Oh, you make me tired," good-naturedly retorted the sunburnt giant of a fellow. "You are just plain ignorant. Do I look like a fever-stricken wreck? High wages? Well, I guess. We are picked men. I am a steam-shovel man, as you know, and Uncle Sam pays me two hundred gold a month and gives me living quarters."
"You are welcome to it, Jack. It may look good to you, but you will have to dig the Panama Canal without me."
Walter Goodwin had pricked39 up his ears. The Panama Canal had seemed so remote that[Pg 8] it might have belonged in another world, but here were men who were actually helping40 to dig it. And this steam-shovel man looked so self-reliant and capable and proud of his task that he made one feel proud of his breed of Americans in exile. And that was a most alluring41 phrase of his, "a great place for a husky young fellow."
"I overheard enough to make me very much interested in what you are doing. Do you think I would stand any show of getting a job on the Panama Canal?"
"As a rule, they don't catch 'em quite as young as you are, my son. What makes you think of taking such a long jump from home?"
"I need the money," firmly announced the youth. "And when it comes to size and strength I'm not exactly a light-weight."
"I'll not dispute it," cheerily returned the steam-shovel man. "I am a man of peace except when I'm hunting trouble. But they[Pg 9] don't hire Americans on the Isthmus45 for their muscle. The Colonel—he's the big boss—has thirty thousand West Indian negroes and Spaniards on the pay-rolls to sweat with the picks and shovels47. Are you really looking for a job, my boy? Tell me about it."
Walter blushed and felt reluctant to tell his troubles to a stranger. All he could bring himself to say was:
"Well, you see, I simply must pitch in and give my father a lift somehow."
"And you're not old enough to vote!" heartily exclaimed the other. "There's many a grown man that thinks himself lucky if he can buy his own meal-ticket, much less give his father a lift."
"I don't mean to talk big—" began Walter.
"It does you credit, my son. I like to see a lad carry a full head of steam. You look good to me. I size you up as our kind of folks. Yes, there are various jobs down there you might get away with. And the lowest wages paid an American employee is seventy-five dollars a month. But remember, it's a long, wet walk back from the Isthmus for a man that goes broke."
[Pg 10]
"Oh, I don't even know how I could get there. I am just dreaming about it," smiled Goodwin.
"If you do ever drift down that way, be sure to look me up, understand—Jack Devlin, engineer of steam-shovel 'Twenty-six' in Culebra Cut, and she broke all records for excavating48 last month."
He crossed the deck with a jaunty49 swagger, as if there was no finer thing in the world than to command a monster of a steam-shovel eating its way into the slope of Culebra Cut. Walter Goodwin concluded that he had been forgotten by the busy captain of the Saragossa, but just then the steward came with a summons to the breezy quarters abaft50 the wheel-house and chart-room. That august personage, Captain Martin Bradshaw, had removed his coat and collar, and a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles adorned51 his ruddy beak52 of a nose. Running his hands through his mop of iron-gray hair, he swung round in his chair and said, with the twist of the mouth that was like an unfinished smile:
"I think I owe you an apology. I failed to take a square look at you until we came aboard.[Pg 11] You are not the kind of a youngster who expects a tip for doing a man a good turn. I was so flustered53 and stood on my beam-ends that I made a mistake."
That this seasoned old mariner could have been in such a helpless state of mind over a mishap54 so trifling55 as the emptied suit-case made Walter grin in spite of himself. At this Captain Bradshaw beamed through his spectacles and explained:
"I am afraid of my life every minute I'm ashore—what with the infernal fleets of automobiles56 and trolley-cars and wagons57, and the crowds of people in the fairway. A ship at sea is the only safe place for a man, after all. Have a cup of tea or a bottle of ginger-ale?"
"No, thank you, sir. All I want is some information," boldly declared Walter Goodwin, turning very red, but determined58 to strike while the iron was hot. "Is there any way, if a fellow can't afford to pay his passage, for him to get to the Isthmus of Panama?"
"And for what?" was the surprised query59. "You look as if you had a good home and a mother to sew on your buttons. Have you[Pg 12] been reading sea-stories, or are you a young muck-raker in disguise, with orders to show the American people that the Canal is being dug all wrong?"
"No, I am thinking of trying to find a good job down there," Walter gravely declared. "I can't eat my folks out of house and home any longer. The Isthmus is a great place for a husky young fellow with the right stuff in him. I got it straight from a man who knows."
Captain Martin Bradshaw, who was a shrewd judge of manhood, replied in singularly gentle tones, as if he were thinking aloud:
"I did pretty much the same thing when I was in my teens. And I had the same reasons. I suppose if you broke the news to the folks they wouldn't be exactly enthusiastic."
"I am afraid it would take a lot of argument to convince them that I am sane60 and sensible," dubiously61 agreed Walter. "My father isn't used to taking chances, and—well, you know what mothers are, sir. Does it sound crazy to you?"
"No; just a trifle rash," and the wise skipper shook his head. "How old are you?"
[Pg 13]
"Seventeen and big for my age."
"I thought you were a year or two older. Well, you are as bold and foolish as a strapping62 lad of seventeen ought to be, if he has red blood in him. I'll not encourage you to run away from home. Maybe you can find a paying berth63 on the Isthmus, and maybe not. But it will do you no harm to try. Talk it over at home. If the bee is still in your bonnet64 a month from now, come to the ship and I'll give you a chance to work your passage to Colon46 on my next voyage."
Walter stammered65 his thanks, but the captain turned to rummage66 among the papers on his desk, as if he could give no more time to the interview. As the youth walked away from the ship, his thoughts were buzzing and his pulse beat faster than usual. The unexpected visit aboard the Saragossa had thrilled him like the song of bugles67. It awakened68 a spirit of adventurous69 enterprise which had hitherto been dormant70. It was calling him away to the world's frontier. Jack Devlin, the steam-shovel man, and the captain of the Saragossa had whirled him out of his accustomed orbit with a velocity[Pg 14] that made him dizzy. They were men of action, trained in a rough school, and if Walter wished to follow the same road they were ready to lend him a hand.
He had spent three days in New York, seeking a situation at living wages. His father had given him letters to several business acquaintances, besides which he had investigated such advertisements in the newspapers as sounded promising71. He discovered that boys in their teens, no matter how tall and manly72 they might be, were expected to sell their brains and muscle for so few dollars a week that his boyish hopes of supporting himself were clouded. The city was overcrowded, underpaid.
From the ship he went to the house in which he had lodged73, and then straightway to the railroad station to return to his home town of Wolverton. His high-hearted pilgrimage to New York had been a failure in one way, but he was braced74 and comforted by the bright dream of winning his fortune on the far-away Isthmus. It all sounded too good to be true.
Mr. Horatio Goodwin, the father of this young knight75-errant, was a book-keeper who[Pg 15] had toiled76 at the same desk for twenty years in the offices of the Wolverton Mills. When a trust gained control of the plant it was promptly77 closed and dismantled78 in order to keep up prices by cutting down production. This modern instance of knocking competition on the head was satisfactory to the stockholders, but it brought desolation to the small city of Wolverton, of which the vast mills had been the industrial blood and sinews. The operatives drifted elsewhere, hopeful of finding work, but a middle-aged79 book-keeper, grown gray and round-shouldered before his time, is likely to find himself stranded80 in a business age which demands hustling81 young men of the brand known as "live-wires."
The Goodwins' cottage was pleasantly situated82 on a slope overlooking the town, but, alas83, the streets no longer swarmed84 with tired, noisy people during the leisure hour after supper; many of the stores were untenanted behind their shuttered fronts; and the myriad85 windows of the mills stared blank and dead instead of twinkling like rows of jewels to greet the industrious86 army of the night shift. [Pg 16]Discouragement was in the very aspect of the stagnant87 town, and it had begun to grip the heart of anxious Mr. Goodwin. For the present, or until he might find something better, he had taken a small position with a coal-dealer in Wolverton.
He had great possessions, however, which were not to be measured in terms of hard cash—to wit, a wife who thought him the finest, bravest gentleman in the world, and a son and daughter who held the same opinion and were desperately88 in earnest about trying to mend the family fortunes. Walter was half-way through his senior year in high-school and was chiefly notable for a rugged physique, a brilliant record as a base-ball pitcher89, and an alarming appetite which threatened to sweep the cupboard bare. His sister Eleanor, three years younger, was inclined to be absent-minded and wrote reams of what she called poetry, a form of industry which could hardly be considered useful in a tight financial pinch.
It was in the evening of a winter's day when Walter came homing back from New York. The other Goodwins were holding a family conference, and it was like Eleanor to kiss her[Pg 17] father's bald head and pat his cheek with such a protecting, comforting air that her mother found a glimmer90 of fond amusement in the midst of her worry. The affectionate lass dwelt in a world of romance and her father was a true knight daily faring forth91 on a quest in which she was serenely92 confident that he would conquer all the dragons of misfortune.
Walter had wisely concluded that the rash scheme of working his way to the Isthmus should be explained to the family with a good deal of care and tact93. To break it to them suddenly would be too much like an explosion. When he tramped into the sitting-room94, the welcome was as ardent95 as if he had been absent for months instead of days. Eleanor and her mother fluttered about him. Supper had been kept warm for him. Was he quite sure the melting snow had not wet his feet?
Assuming his best bass97 voice, as man to man, Walter answered: "New York is chuck-full of strong and willing lads anxious to run their legs off for four or five dollars a week. [Pg 18]Without throwing any bouquets98 at myself, I think I ought to be worth more than that to somebody. You see, I couldn't pay for my board and washing, much less give the family income a boost."
"Did my letters help you?"
"Yes, I had an offer of four per from the hardware man. I told him I should have to think it over. Wolverton is as dead as a doornail, but I can do better than that as a day laborer99."
"I hate to think of your quitting school," sighed his father; "but perhaps you can graduate next year." He tried to hide his anxiety by adding quite briskly: "We have a great deal to be thankful for, and this—er—this period of business depression is only temporary, I am sure."
"I seem to be so perfectly100 useless," pensively101 murmured Eleanor. "Poetry doesn't pay at all well, even if you are a genius, and then you are supposed to starve to death in a garret."
"You are mother's little bunch of sunshine,"[Pg 19] said he, "and as first assistant house-keeper you play an errorless game."
With what was meant to be a careless manner, Walter turned to his father and exclaimed:
"Oh, by the way, I heard of something that sounded pretty good. It isn't in New York——"
"I certainly hope it is no farther away," broke in Mrs. Goodwin. "I can't bear to think of your leaving home at all."
"Oh, I should take good care of myself and brush my teeth twice a day and say my prayers ditto, so you wouldn't have the slightest reason to worry about me. And I'd write home every week, sure."
"But couldn't you come home every week?" asked Eleanor.
"Well, hardly, sis. I have heard of the greatest place in the world for a husky young fellow with the right stuff in him. Seventy-five dollars a month, and there are various jobs I am capable of filling——"
"Is this a fairy story?" and Mr. Goodwin[Pg 20] gazed over his glasses with a perplexed104 expression.
"No, sir, and the climate is healthy nowadays, and the men on the job look as fit as can be, and they are just the bulliest-looking lot you ever saw and——"
"I'll send you a monkey and a string of pearls, Sis. Say, father, we Americans ought to be proud of the Panama Canal, don't you think?"
"The Panama Canal!" and Mr. Horatio Goodwin fairly jumped from his chair. "Is this what you have been leading up to?"
"Yes, I want to go there."
"Dear me, why did we let him make the trip to New York alone?" lamented106 Mrs. Goodwin. "He wants to go to the Panama Canal! Why, it is thousands of miles from home!"
Her agitation107 might have led one to suppose that Walter had announced his intention of taking up his residence in the moon. But Mr. Goodwin was regarding the ruddy, eager face of his son with a certain wistfulness. Walter[Pg 21] was undismayed, unscarred by the rough world. Ah, youth might win where plodding108 middle age had failed. The opportunities were for those who were not old enough to be afraid.
With bright eyes and animated110 gestures Walter told them of his acquaintance with Jack Devlin and the master of the Saragossa, and how the Panama Canal had been made to seem so near and real. Eleanor promptly soared on rosy111 wings of fancy and breathlessly interrupted:
"It is of such stuff that heroes are made! I shall never call life humdrum112 again. Gracious, to think of my big brother actually sailing away to help build the Panama Canal! I have a great deal of confidence in you, Walt, and I'm sure you will succeed, though you are inclined to be careless and you never would keep your bureau drawers in order. I suppose I shall have to write a poem, 'Lines to a Wandering Brother.' It must not be mournful, must it? I will cling to the lofty idea that you have gone to serve your country in peace instead of war."
[Pg 22]
"That will do for you," was Walter's laughing comment. "Please let mother and father have the floor."
"It sounds fantastic, but—" doubtfully began Mr. Goodwin.
"But it is utterly113 out of the question," his wife emphatically concluded. "Why, this working his way in a ship sounds dreadfully rough and dangerous. The captain may intend to kidnap him. What is it they do to sailors, Horatio? Something horrid114 and Chinese—shanghai or hong-kong them, or whatever it is."
"I have seven dollars of my own saved up, Walt. I was planning to take a correspondence course in the art of writing perfectly good poetry, but I'd rather invest it in you. We women must arm our heroes for the fray116."
"I am afraid I could not give you the funds you would need," soberly observed Mr. Goodwin. "You must not find yourself adrift in a strange land."
Walter walked across the room, a fine, [Pg 23]athletic figure, almost a six-footer. He felt sure that he could fight his way on the wonderful Isthmus, where there were quick promotion117 and high wages and a square deal for every man.
"If I can work my passage down there, I can work it home again," he cried. "But I'm not worrying about that."
"Wolverton is no place for you," declared his father. "Mother and I will talk it over, Walter, and I shall find out what I can. You have made us feel rather dizzy. We can't realize that you are no longer a little boy."
"My Salem great-grandfather went to sea when he was fourteen and was mate of an East-Indiaman at my age, and captain of her at twenty-one," stoutly118 quoth Walter.
"And be sure to write just how the Southern Cross looks to you," earnestly put in Eleanor.
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2
wharf
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| n.码头，停泊处 | |
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lumbering
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| n.采伐林木 | |
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trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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wayfarers
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| n.旅人，（尤指）徒步旅行者( wayfarer的名词复数 ) | |
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preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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8
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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boundless
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| adj.无限的；无边无际的；巨大的 | |
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sputter
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| n.喷溅声；v.喷溅 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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wreckage
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| n.（失事飞机等的）残骸，破坏，毁坏 | |
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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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salvage
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| v.救助，营救，援救；n.救助，营救 | |
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savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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rammed
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| v.夯实（土等）( ram的过去式和过去分词 )；猛撞；猛压；反复灌输 | |
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consignment
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| n.寄售；发货；委托；交运货物 | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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rumbled
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| 发出隆隆声，发出辘辘声( rumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 轰鸣着缓慢行进； 发现…的真相； 看穿（阴谋） | |
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mariner
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| n.水手号不载人航天探测器，海员，航海者 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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surmising
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的现在分词 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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blustering
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| adj.狂风大作的，狂暴的v.外强中干的威吓( bluster的现在分词 )；咆哮；（风）呼啸；狂吹 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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overhaul
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| v./n.大修，仔细检查 | |
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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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bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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yearn
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| v.想念；怀念；渴望 | |
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pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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43
accosted
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| v.走过去跟…讲话( accost的过去式和过去分词 )；跟…搭讪；（乞丐等）上前向…乞讨；（妓女等）勾搭 | |
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44
amiably
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| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
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45
isthmus
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| n.地峡 | |
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46
colon
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| n.冒号，结肠，直肠 | |
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47
shovels
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| n.铲子( shovel的名词复数 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份v.铲子( shovel的第三人称单数 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份 | |
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48
excavating
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| v.挖掘( excavate的现在分词 )；开凿；挖出；发掘 | |
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49
jaunty
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| adj．愉快的，满足的；adv.心满意足地，洋洋得意地；n.心满意足；洋洋得意 | |
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abaft
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| prep.在…之后；adv.在船尾，向船尾 | |
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51
adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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52
beak
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| n.鸟嘴，茶壶嘴，钩形鼻 | |
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53
flustered
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| adj.慌张的；激动不安的v.使慌乱，使不安( fluster的过去式和过去分词) | |
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54
mishap
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| n.不幸的事，不幸；灾祸 | |
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55
trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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56
automobiles
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| n.汽车( automobile的名词复数 ) | |
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57
wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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58
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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59
query
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| n.疑问，问号，质问；vt.询问，表示怀疑 | |
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sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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dubiously
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| adv.可疑地，怀疑地 | |
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62
strapping
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| adj. 魁伟的, 身材高大健壮的 n. 皮绳或皮带的材料, 裹伤胶带, 皮鞭 动词strap的现在分词形式 | |
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63
berth
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| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
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64
bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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65
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
rummage
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| v./n.翻寻，仔细检查 | |
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67
bugles
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| 妙脆角，一种类似薯片但做成尖角或喇叭状的零食； 号角( bugle的名词复数 )； 喇叭； 匍匐筋骨草； （装饰女服用的）柱状玻璃（或塑料）小珠 | |
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68
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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69
adventurous
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| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
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70
dormant
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| adj.暂停活动的；休眠的；潜伏的 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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72
manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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73
lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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74
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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75
knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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76
toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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78
dismantled
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| 拆开( dismantle的过去式和过去分词 )； 拆卸； 废除； 取消 | |
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middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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80
stranded
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| a.搁浅的，进退两难的 | |
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81
hustling
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| 催促（hustle的现在分词形式） | |
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82
situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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83
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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84
swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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85
myriad
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| adj.无数的；n.无数，极大数量 | |
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86
industrious
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| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
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87
stagnant
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| adj.不流动的，停滞的，不景气的 | |
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88
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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89
pitcher
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| n.(有嘴和柄的)大水罐；(棒球)投手 | |
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glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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91
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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92
serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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93
tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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94
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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95
ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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97
bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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98
bouquets
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| n.花束( bouquet的名词复数 )；（酒的）芳香 | |
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99
laborer
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| n.劳动者，劳工 | |
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100
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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101
pensively
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| adv.沉思地，焦虑地 | |
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102
esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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103
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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104
perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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105
implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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106
lamented
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| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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107
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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108
plodding
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| a.proceeding in a slow or dull way | |
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109
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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110
animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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111
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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112
humdrum
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| adj.单调的，乏味的 | |
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113
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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114
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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115
perturbed
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| adj.烦燥不安的v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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116
fray
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| v.争吵；打斗；磨损，磨破；n.吵架；打斗 | |
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117
promotion
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| n.提升，晋级；促销，宣传 | |
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118
stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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