From Mr Moddle to Eden is an easy and natural transition. Mr Moddle, living in the atmosphere of Miss Pecksniff’s love, dwelt (if he had but known it) in a terrestrial Paradise. The thriving city of Eden was also a terrestrial Paradise, upon the showing of its proprietors3. The beautiful Miss Pecksniff might have been poetically4 described as a something too good for man in his fallen and degraded state. That was exactly the character of the thriving city of Eden, as poetically heightened by Zephaniah Scadder, General Choke, and other worthies5; part and parcel of the talons6 of that great American Eagle, which is always airing itself sky-high in purest aether, and never, no never, never, tumbles down with draggled wings into the mud.
When Mark Tapley, leaving Martin in the architectural and surveying offices, had effectually strengthened and encouraged his own spirits by the contemplation of their joint7 misfortunes, he proceeded, with new cheerfulness, in search of help; congratulating himself, as he went along, on the enviable position to which he had at last attained8.
‘I used to think, sometimes,’ said Mr Tapley, ‘as a desolate9 island would suit me, but I should only have had myself to provide for there, and being naturally a easy man to manage, there wouldn’t have been much credit in that. Now here I’ve got my partner to take care on, and he’s something like the sort of man for the purpose. I want a man as is always a-sliding off his legs when he ought to be on ‘em. I want a man as is so low down in the school of life that he’s always a-making figures of one in his copy-book, and can’t get no further. I want a man as is his own great coat and cloak, and is always a-wrapping himself up in himself. And I have got him too,’ said Mr Tapley, after a moment’s silence. ‘What a happiness!’
He paused to look round, uncertain to which of the log-houses he should repair.
‘I don’t know which to take,’ he observed; ‘that’s the truth. They’re equally prepossessing outside, and equally commodious11, no doubt, within; being fitted up with every convenience that a Alligator12, in a state of natur’, could possibly require. Let me see! The citizen as turned out last night, lives under water, in the right hand dog-kennel at the corner. I don’t want to trouble him if I can help it, poor man, for he is a melancholy13 object; a reg’lar Settler in every respect. There’s house with a winder, but I am afraid of their being proud. I don’t know whether a door ain’t too aristocratic; but here goes for the first one!’
He went up to the nearest cabin, and knocked with his hand. Being desired to enter, he complied.
‘Neighbour,’ said Mark; ‘for I am a neighbour, though you don’t know me; I’ve come a-begging. Hallo! hal—lo! Am I a-bed, and dreaming!’
He made this exclamation14 on hearing his own name pronounced, and finding himself clasped about the skirts by two little boys, whose faces he had often washed, and whose suppers he had often cooked, on board of that noble and fast-sailing line-of-packet ship, the Screw.
20534m
Original
‘My eyes is wrong!’ said Mark. ‘I don’t believe ‘em. That ain’t my fellow-passenger younder, a-nursing her little girl, who, I am sorry to see, is so delicate; and that ain’t her husband as come to New York to fetch her. Nor these,’ he added, looking down upon the boys, ‘ain’t them two young shavers as was so familiar to me; though they are uncommon15 like ‘em. That I must confess.’
The woman shed tears, in very joy to see him; the man shook both his hands and would not let them go; the two boys hugged his legs; the sick child in the mother’s arms stretched out her burning little fingers, and muttered, in her hoarse16, dry throat, his well-remembered name.
It was the same family, sure enough. Altered by the salubrious air of Eden. But the same.
‘This is a new sort of a morning call,’ said Mark, drawing a long breath. ‘It strikes one all of a heap. Wait a little bit! I’m a-coming round fast. That’ll do! These gentlemen ain’t my friends. Are they on the visiting list of the house?’
The inquiry17 referred to certain gaunt pigs, who had walked in after him, and were much interested in the heels of the family. As they did not belong to the mansion18, they were expelled by the two little boys.
‘I ain’t superstitious19 about toads,’ said Mark, looking round the room, ‘but if you could prevail upon the two or three I see in company, to step out at the same time, my young friends, I think they’d find the open air refreshing20. Not that I at all object to ‘em. A very handsome animal is a toad,’ said Mr Tapley, sitting down upon a stool; ‘very spotted21; very like a partickler style of old gentleman about the throat; very bright-eyed, very cool, and very slippy. But one sees ‘em to the best advantage out of doors perhaps.’
While pretending, with such talk as this, to be perfectly22 at his ease, and to be the most indifferent and careless of men, Mark Tapley had an eye on all around him. The wan10 and meagre aspect of the family, the changed looks of the poor mother, the fevered child she held in her lap, the air of great despondency and little hope on everything, were plain to him, and made a deep impression on his mind. He saw it all as clearly and as quickly, as with his bodily eyes he saw the rough shelves supported by pegs23 driven between the logs, of which the house was made; the flour-cask in the corner, serving also for a table; the blankets, spades, and other articles against the walls; the damp that blotched the ground; or the crop of vegetable rottenness in every crevice24 of the hut.
‘How is it that you have come here?’ asked the man, when their first expressions of surprise were over.
‘Why, we come by the steamer last night,’ replied Mark. ‘Our intention is to make our fortuns with punctuality and dispatch; and to retire upon our property as soon as ever it’s realised. But how are you all? You’re looking noble!’
‘We are but sickly now,’ said the poor woman, bending over her child. ‘But we shall do better when we are seasoned to the place.’
But he said cheerfully, ‘Do better! To be sure you will. We shall all do better. What we’ve got to do is, to keep up our spirits, and be neighbourly. We shall come all right in the end, never fear. That reminds me, by the bye, that my partner’s all wrong just at present; and that I looked in to beg for him. I wish you’d come and give me your opinion of him, master.’
That must have been a very unreasonable27 request on the part of Mark Tapley, with which, in their gratitude28 for his kind offices on board the ship, they would not have complied instantly. The man rose to accompany him without a moment’s delay. Before they went, Mark took the sick child in his arms, and tried to comfort the mother; but the hand of death was on it then, he saw.
They found Martin in the house, lying wrapped up in his blanket on the ground. He was, to all appearance, very ill indeed, and shook and shivered horribly; not as people do from cold, but in a frightful29 kind of spasm30 or convulsion, that racked his whole body. Mark’s friend pronounced his disease an aggravated31 kind of fever, accompanied with ague; which was very common in those parts, and which he predicted would be worse to-morrow, and for many more to-morrows. He had had it himself off and on, he said, for a couple of years or so; but he was thankful that, while so many he had known had died about him, he had escaped with life.
They had some medicine in their chest; and this man of sad experience showed Mark how and when to administer it, and how he could best alleviate33 the sufferings of Martin. His attentions did not stop there; for he was backwards34 and forwards constantly, and rendered Mark good service in all his brisk attempts to make their situation more endurable. Hope or comfort for the future he could not bestow35. The season was a sickly one; the settlement a grave. His child died that night; and Mark, keeping the secret from Martin, helped to bury it, beneath a tree, next day.
With all his various duties of attendance upon Martin (who became the more exacting36 in his claims, the worse he grew), Mark worked out of doors, early and late; and with the assistance of his friend and others, laboured to do something with their land. Not that he had the least strength of heart or hope, or steady purpose in so doing, beyond the habitual37 cheerfulness of his disposition38, and his amazing power of self-sustainment; for within himself, he looked on their condition as beyond all hope, and, in his own words, ‘came out strong’ in consequence.
‘As to coming out as strong as I could wish, sir,’ he confided39 to Martin in a leisure moment; that is to say, one evening, while he was washing the linen40 of the establishment, after a hard day’s work, ‘that I give up. It’s a piece of good fortune as never is to happen to me, I see!’
‘Would you wish for circumstances stronger than these?’ Martin retorted with a groan41, from underneath42 his blanket.
‘Why, only see how easy they might have been stronger, sir,’ said Mark, ‘if it wasn’t for the envy of that uncommon fortun of mine, which is always after me, and tripping me up. The night we landed here, I thought things did look pretty jolly. I won’t deny it. I thought they did look pretty jolly.’
‘Ah!’ said Mark, ‘Ah, to be sure. That’s the question. How do they look now? On the very first morning of my going out, what do I do? Stumble on a family I know, who are constantly assisting of us in all sorts of ways, from that time to this! That won’t do, you know; that ain’t what I’d a right to expect. If I had stumbled on a serpent and got bit; or stumbled on a first-rate patriot44, and got bowie-knifed, or stumbled on a lot of Sympathisers with inverted45 shirt-collars, and got made a lion of; I might have distinguished46 myself, and earned some credit. As it is, the great object of my voyage is knocked on the head. So it would be, wherever I went. How do you feel to-night, sir?’
‘Worse than ever,’ said poor Martin.
‘That’s something,’ returned Mark, ‘but not enough. Nothing but being very bad myself, and jolly to the last, will ever do me justice.’
‘In Heaven’s name, don’t talk of that,’ said Martin with a thrill of terror. ‘What should I do, Mark, if you were taken ill!’
Mr Tapley’s spirits appeared to be stimulated47 by this remark, although it was not a very flattering one. He proceeded with his washing in a brighter mood; and observed ‘that his glass was arising.’
‘There’s one good thing in this place, sir,’ said Mr Tapley, scrubbing away at the linen, ‘as disposes me to be jolly; and that is that it’s a reg’lar little United States in itself. There’s two or three American settlers left; and they coolly comes over one, even here, sir, as if it was the wholesomest and loveliest spot in the world. But they’re like the cock that went and hid himself to save his life, and was found out by the noise he made. They can’t help crowing. They was born to do it, and do it they must, whatever comes of it.’
Glancing from his work out at the door as he said these words, Mark’s eyes encountered a lean person in a blue frock and a straw hat, with a short black pipe in his mouth, and a great hickory stick studded all over with knots, in his hand; who smoking and chewing as he came along, and spitting frequently, recorded his progress by a train of decomposed49 tobacco on the ground.
‘Here’s one on ‘em,’ cried Mark, ‘Hannibal Chollop.’
‘Don’t let him in,’ said Martin, feebly.
‘He won’t want any letting in,’ replied Mark. ‘He’ll come in, sir.’ Which turned out to be quite true, for he did. His face was almost as hard and knobby as his stick; and so were his hands. His head was like an old black hearth-broom. He sat down on the chest with his hat on; and crossing his legs and looking up at Mark, said, without removing his pipe:
‘Well, Mr Co.! and how do you git along, sir?’
It may be necessary to observe that Mr Tapley had gravely introduced himself to all strangers, by that name.
‘Pretty well, sir; pretty well,’ said Mark.
‘If this ain’t Mr Chuzzlewit, ain’t it!’ exclaimed the visitor ‘How do you git along, sir?’
Martin shook his head, and drew the blanket over it involuntarily; for he felt that Hannibal was going to spit; and his eye, as the song says, was upon him.
‘You need not regard me, sir,’ observed Mr Chollop, complacently50. ‘I am fever-proof, and likewise agur.’
‘Mine was a more selfish motive,’ said Martin, looking out again. ‘I was afraid you were going to—’
‘I can calc’late my distance, sir,’ returned Mr Chollop, ‘to an inch.’
‘I re-quire, sir,’ said Hannibal, ‘two foot clear in a circ’lar di-rection, and can engage my-self toe keep within it. I have gone ten foot, in a circ’lar di-rection, but that was for a wager52.’
‘I hope you won it, sir,’ said Mark.
‘Well, sir, I realised the stakes,’ said Chollop. ‘Yes, sir.’
He was silent for a time, during which he was actively53 engaged in the formation of a magic circle round the chest on which he sat. When it was completed, he began to talk again.
‘How do you like our country, sir?’ he inquired, looking at Martin.
‘Not at all,’ was the invalid’s reply.
Chollop continued to smoke without the least appearance of emotion, until he felt disposed to speak again. That time at length arriving, he took his pipe from his mouth, and said:
‘I am not surprised to hear you say so. It re-quires An elevation54, and A preparation of the intellect. The mind of man must be prepared for Freedom, Mr Co.’
He addressed himself to Mark; because he saw that Martin, who wished him to go, being already half-mad with feverish55 irritation56, which the droning voice of this new horror rendered almost insupportable, had closed his eyes, and turned on his uneasy bed.
‘A little bodily preparation wouldn’t be amiss, either, would it, sir,’ said Mark, ‘in the case of a blessed old swamp like this?’
‘Do you con-sider this a swamp, sir?’ inquired Chollop gravely.
‘Why yes, sir,’ returned Mark. ‘I haven’t a doubt about it myself.’
‘The sentiment is quite Europian,’ said the major, ‘and does not surprise me; what would your English millions say to such a swamp in England, sir?’
‘They’d say it was an uncommon nasty one, I should think, said Mark; ‘and that they would rather be inoculated57 for fever in some other way.’
And there he sat. Silent and cool, as if the house were his; smoking away like a factory chimney.
Mr Chollop was, of course, one of the most remarkable59 men in the country; but he really was a notorious person besides. He was usually described by his friends, in the South and West, as ‘a splendid sample of our na-tive raw material, sir,’ and was much esteemed60 for his devotion to rational Liberty; for the better propagation whereof he usually carried a brace62 of revolving63 pistols in his coat pocket, with seven barrels a-piece. He also carried, amongst other trinkets, a sword-stick, which he called his ‘Tickler.’ and a great knife, which (for he was a man of a pleasant turn of humour) he called ‘Ripper,’ in allusion64 to its usefulness as a means of ventilating the stomach of any adversary65 in a close contest. He had used these weapons with distinguished effect in several instances, all duly chronicled in the newspapers; and was greatly beloved for the gallant66 manner in which he had ‘jobbed out’ the eye of one gentleman, as he was in the act of knocking at his own street-door.
Mr Chollop was a man of a roving disposition; and, in any less advanced community, might have been mistaken for a violent vagabond. But his fine qualities being perfectly understood and appreciated in those regions where his lot was cast, and where he had many kindred spirits to consort67 with, he may be regarded as having been born under a fortunate star, which is not always the case with a man so much before the age in which he lives. Preferring, with a view to the gratification of his tickling68 and ripping fancies, to dwell upon the outskirts69 of society, and in the more remote towns and cities, he was in the habit of emigrating from place to place, and establishing in each some business—usually a newspaper—which he presently sold; for the most part closing the bargain by challenging, stabbing, pistolling, or gouging70 the new editor, before he had quite taken possession of the property.
He had come to Eden on a speculation71 of this kind, but had abandoned it, and was about to leave. He always introduced himself to strangers as a worshipper of Freedom; was the consistent advocate of Lynch law, and slavery; and invariably recommended, both in print and speech, the ‘tarring and feathering’ of any unpopular person who differed from himself. He called this ‘planting the standard of civilization in the wilder gardens of My country.’
There is little doubt that Chollop would have planted this standard in Eden at Mark’s expense, in return for his plainness of speech (for the genuine Freedom is dumb, save when she vaunts herself), but for the utter desolation and decay prevailing72 in the settlement, and his own approaching departure from it. As it was, he contented73 himself with showing Mark one of the revolving-pistols, and asking him what he thought of that weapon.
‘It ain’t long since I shot a man down with that, sir, in the State of Illinoy,’ observed Chollop.
‘Did you, indeed!’ said Mark, without the smallest agitation74. ‘Very free of you. And very independent!’
‘I shot him down, sir,’ pursued Chollop, ‘for asserting in the Spartan75 Portico76, a tri-weekly journal, that the ancient Athenians went a-head of the present Locofoco Ticket.’
‘And what’s that?’ asked Mark.
After a short devotion to the interests of the magic circle, he resumed the conversation by observing:
‘You won’t half feel yourself at home in Eden, now?’
‘No,’ said Mark, ‘I don’t.’
‘You miss the imposts of your country. You miss the house dues?’ observed Chollop.
‘And the houses—rather,’ said Mark.
‘No window dues here, sir,’ observed Chollop.
‘And no windows to put ‘em on,’ said Mark.
‘No stakes, no dungeons78, no blocks, no racks, no scaffolds, no thumbscrews, no pikes, no pillories,’ said Chollop.
‘Nothing but rewolwers and bowie-knives,’ returned Mark. ‘And what are they? Not worth mentioning!’
The man who had met them on the night of their arrival came crawling up at this juncture79, and looked in at the door.
‘Well, sir,’ said Chollop. ‘How do you git along?’
He had considerable difficulty in getting along at all, and said as much in reply.
‘Mr Co. And me, sir,’ observed Chollop, ‘are disputating a piece. He ought to be slicked up pretty smart to disputate between the Old World and the New, I do expect?’
‘I was merely observing, sir,’ said Mark, addressing this new visitor, ‘that I looked upon the city in which we have the honour to live, as being swampy82. What’s your sentiments?’
‘I opinionate it’s moist perhaps, at certain times,’ returned the man.
‘But not as moist as England, sir?’ cried Chollop, with a fierce expression in his face.
‘Oh! Not as moist as England; let alone its Institutions,’ said the man.
‘I should hope there ain’t a swamp in all Americay, as don’t whip that small island into mush and molasses,’ observed Chollop, decisively. ‘You bought slick, straight, and right away, of Scadder, sir?’ to Mark.
‘Scadder is a smart man, sir? He is a rising man? He is a man as will come up’ards, right side up, sir?’ Mr Chollop winked again at the other citizen.
‘He should have his right side very high up, if I had my way,’ said Mark. ‘As high up as the top of a good tall gallows84, perhaps.’
Mr Chollop was so delighted at the smartness of his excellent countryman having been too much for the Britisher, and at the Britisher’s resenting it, that he could contain himself no longer, and broke forth85 in a shout of delight. But the strangest exposition of this ruling passion was in the other—the pestilence-stricken, broken, miserable shadow of a man—who derived86 so much entertainment from the circumstance that he seemed to forget his own ruin in thinking of it, and laughed outright87 when he said ‘that Scadder was a smart man, and had draw’d a lot of British capital that way, as sure as sun-up.’
After a full enjoyment88 of this joke, Mr Hannibal Chollop sat smoking and improving the circle, without making any attempts either to converse89 or to take leave; apparently90 labouring under the not uncommon delusion91 that for a free and enlightened citizen of the United States to convert another man’s house into a spittoon for two or three hours together, was a delicate attention, full of interest and politeness, of which nobody could ever tire. At last he rose.
‘I am a-going easy,’ he observed.
‘Afore I go,’ he said sternly, ‘I have got a leetle word to say to you. You are darnation ‘cute, you are.’
Mark thanked him for the compliment.
‘But you are much too ‘cute to last. I can’t con-ceive of any spotted Painter in the bush, as ever was so riddled93 through and through as you will be, I bet.’
‘What for?’ asked Mark.
‘We must be cracked up, sir,’ retorted Chollop, in a tone of menace. ‘You are not now in A despotic land. We are a model to the airth, and must be jist cracked-up, I tell you.’
‘What! I speak too free, do I?’ cried Mark.
‘I have draw’d upon A man, and fired upon A man for less,’ said Chollop, frowning. ‘I have know’d strong men obleeged to make themselves uncommon skase for less. I have know’d men Lynched for less, and beaten into punkin’-sarse for less, by an enlightened people. We are the intellect and virtue94 of the airth, the cream of human natur’, and the flower Of moral force. Our backs is easy ris. We must be cracked-up, or they rises, and we snarls95. We shows our teeth, I tell you, fierce. You’d better crack us up, you had!’
After the delivery of this caution, Mr Chollop departed; with Ripper, Tickler, and the revolvers, all ready for action on the shortest notice.
‘Come out from under the blanket, sir,’ said Mark, ‘he’s gone. What’s this!’ he added softly; kneeling down to look into his partner’s face, and taking his hot hand. ‘What’s come of all that chattering96 and swaggering? He’s wandering in his mind to-night, and don’t know me!’
Martin indeed was dangerously ill; very near his death. He lay in that state many days, during which time Mark’s poor friends, regardless of themselves, attended him. Mark, fatigued98 in mind and body; working all the day and sitting up at night; worn with hard living and the unaccustomed toil99 of his new life; surrounded by dismal100 and discouraging circumstances of every kind; never complained or yielded in the least degree. If ever he had thought Martin selfish or inconsiderate, or had deemed him energetic only by fits and starts, and then too passive for their desperate fortunes, he now forgot it all. He remembered nothing but the better qualities of his fellow-wanderer, and was devoted101 to him, heart and hand.
Many weeks elapsed before Martin was strong enough to move about with the help of a stick and Mark’s arm; and even then his recovery, for want of wholesome48 air and proper nourishment103, was very slow. He was yet in a feeble and weak condition, when the misfourtune he had so much dreaded104 fell upon them. Mark was taken ill.
‘Floored for the present, sir,’ he said one morning, sinking back upon his bed; ‘but jolly!’
Floored indeed, and by a heavy blow! As any one but Martin might have known beforehand.
If Mark’s friends had been kind to Martin (and they had been very), they were twenty times kinder to Mark. And now it was Martin’s turn to work, and sit beside the bed and watch, and listen through the long, long nights, to every sound in the gloomy wilderness106; and hear poor Mr Tapley, in his wandering fancy, playing at skittles in the Dragon, making love-remonstrances to Mrs Lupin, getting his sea-legs on board the Screw, travelling with old Tom Pinch on English roads, and burning stumps107 of trees in Eden, all at once.
But whenever Martin gave him drink or medicine, or tended him in any way, or came into the house returning from some drudgery108 without, the patient Mr Tapley brightened up and cried: ‘I’m jolly, sir; ‘I’m jolly!’
Now, when Martin began to think of this, and to look at Mark as he lay there; never reproaching him by so much as an expression of regret; never murmuring; always striving to be manful and staunch; he began to think, how was it that this man who had had so few advantages, was so much better than he who had had so many? And attendance upon a sick bed, but especially the sick bed of one whom we have been accustomed to see in full activity and vigour109, being a great breeder of reflection, he began to ask himself in what they differed.
He was assisted in coming to a conclusion on this head by the frequent presence of Mark’s friend, their fellow-passenger across the ocean, which suggested to him that in regard to having aided her, for example, they had differed very much. Somehow he coupled Tom Pinch with this train of reflection; and thinking that Tom would be very likely to have struck up the same sort of acquaintance under similar circumstances, began to think in what respects two people so extremely different were like each other, and were unlike him. At first sight there was nothing very distressing110 in these meditations112, but they did undoubtedly113 distress111 him for all that.
Martin’s nature was a frank and generous one; but he had been bred up in his grandfather’s house; and it will usually be found that the meaner domestic vices114 propagate themselves to be their own antagonists115. Selfishness does this especially; so do suspicion, cunning, stealth, and covetous116 propensities117. Martin had unconsciously reasoned as a child, ‘My guardian118 takes so much thought of himself, that unless I do the like by myself, I shall be forgotten.’ So he had grown selfish.
But he had never known it. If any one had taxed him with the vice25, he would have indignantly repelled119 the accusation120, and conceived himself unworthily aspersed121. He never would have known it, but that being newly risen from a bed of dangerous sickness, to watch by such another couch, he felt how nearly Self had dropped into the grave, and what a poor dependent, miserable thing it was.
It was natural for him to reflect—he had months to do it in—upon his own escape, and Mark’s extremity122. This led him to consider which of them could be the better spared, and why? Then the curtain slowly rose a very little way; and Self, Self, Self, was shown below.
He asked himself, besides, when dreading123 Mark’s decease (as all men do and must, at such a time), whether he had done his duty by him, and had deserved and made a good response to his fidelity124 and zeal125. No. Short as their companionship had been, he felt in many, many instances, that there was blame against himself; and still inquiring why, the curtain slowly rose a little more, and Self, Self, Self, dilated126 on the scene.
It was long before he fixed127 the knowledge of himself so firmly in his mind that he could thoroughly128 discern the truth; but in the hideous129 solitude130 of that most hideous place, with Hope so far removed, Ambition quenched131, and Death beside him rattling132 at the very door, reflection came, as in a plague-beleaguered town; and so he felt and knew the failing of his life, and saw distinctly what an ugly spot it was.
Eden was a hard school to learn so hard a lesson in; but there were teachers in the swamp and thicket133, and the pestilential air, who had a searching method of their own.
He made a solemn resolution that when his strength returned he would not dispute the point or resist the conviction, but would look upon it as an established fact, that selfishness was in his breast, and must be rooted out. He was so doubtful (and with justice) of his own character, that he determined134 not to say one word of vain regret or good resolve to Mark, but steadily135 to keep his purpose before his own eyes solely136; and there was not a jot137 of pride in this; nothing but humility138 and steadfastness139; the best armour140 he could wear. So low had Eden brought him down. So high had Eden raised him up.
After a long and lingering illness (in certain forlorn stages of which, when too far gone to speak, he had feebly written ‘jolly!’ on a slate), Mark showed some symptoms of returning health. They came and went, and flickered141 for a time; but he began to mend at last decidedly; and after that continued to improve from day to day.
As soon as he was well enough to talk without fatigue97, Martin consulted him upon a project he had in his mind, and which a few months back he would have carried into execution without troubling anybody’s head but his own.
‘Ours is a desperate case,’ said Martin. ‘Plainly. The place is deserted142; its failure must have become known; and selling what we have bought to any one, for anything, is hopeless, even if it were honest. We left home on a mad enterprise, and have failed. The only hope left us, the only one end for which we have now to try, is to quit this settlement for ever, and get back to England. Anyhow! by any means! only to get back there, Mark.’
‘That’s all, sir,’ returned Mr Tapley, with a significant stress upon the words; ‘only that!’
‘Now, upon this side of the water,’ said Martin, ‘we have but one friend who can help us, and that is Mr Bevan.’
‘I thought of him when you was ill,’ said Mark.
‘But for the time that would be lost, I would even write to my grandfather,’ Martin went on to say, ‘and implore143 him for money to free us from this trap into which we were so cruelly decoyed. Shall I try Mr Bevan first?’
‘He’s a very pleasant sort of a gentleman,’ said Mark. ‘I think so.’
‘The few goods we brought here, and in which we spent our money, would produce something if sold,’ resumed Martin; ‘and whatever they realise shall be paid him instantly. But they can’t be sold here.’
‘There’s nobody but corpses144 to buy ‘em,’ said Mr Tapley, shaking his head with a rueful air, ‘and pigs.’
‘Shall I tell him so, and only ask him for money enough to enable us by the cheapest means to reach New York, or any port from which we may hope to get a passage home, by serving in any capacity? Explaining to him at the same time how I am connected, and that I will endeavour to repay him, even through my grandfather, immediately on our arrival in England?’
‘Why to be sure,’ said Mark: ‘he can only say no, and he may say yes. If you don’t mind trying him, sir—’
‘Mind!’ exclaimed Martin. ‘I am to blame for coming here, and I would do anything to get away. I grieve to think of the past. If I had taken your opinion sooner, Mark, we never should have been here, I am certain.’
Mr Tapley was very much surprised at this admission, but protested, with great vehemence145, that they would have been there all the same; and that he had set his heart upon coming to Eden, from the first word he had ever heard of it.
Martin then read him a letter to Mr Bevan, which he had already prepared. It was frankly146 and ingenuously147 written, and described their situation without the least concealment148; plainly stated the miseries149 they had undergone; and preferred their request in modest but straightforward150 terms. Mark highly commended it; and they determined to dispatch it by the next steamboat going the right way, that might call to take in wood at Eden—where there was plenty of wood to spare. Not knowing how to address Mr Bevan at his own place of abode151, Martin superscribed it to the care of the memorable152 Mr Norris of New York, and wrote upon the cover an entreaty153 that it might be forwarded without delay.
More than a week elapsed before a boat appeared; but at length they were awakened154 very early one morning by the high-pressure snorting of the ‘Esau Slodge;’ named after one of the most remarkable men in the country, who had been very eminent155 somewhere. Hurrying down to the landing-place, they got it safe on board; and waiting anxiously to see the boat depart, stopped up the gangway; an instance of neglect which caused the ‘Capting’ of the Esau Slodge to ‘wish he might be sifted156 fine as flour, and whittled157 small as chips; that if they didn’t come off that there fixing right smart too, he’d spill ‘em in the drink;’ whereby the Capting metaphorically158 said he’d throw them in the river.
They were not likely to receive an answer for eight or ten weeks at the earliest. In the meantime they devoted such strength as they had to the attempted improvement of their land; to clearing some of it, and preparing it for useful purposes. Monstrously159 defective160 as their farming was, still it was better than their neighbours’; for Mark had some practical knowledge of such matters, and Martin learned of him; whereas the other settlers who remained upon the putrid161 swamp (a mere81 handful, and those withered162 by disease), appeared to have wandered there with the idea that husbandry was the natural gift of all mankind. They helped each other after their own manner in these struggles, and in all others; but they worked as hopelessly and sadly as a gang of convicts in a penal163 settlement.
Often at night when Mark and Martin were alone, and lying down to sleep, they spoke164 of home, familiar places, houses, roads, and people whom they knew; sometimes in the lively hope of seeing them again, and sometimes with a sorrowful tranquillity165, as if that hope were dead. It was a source of great amazement166 to Mark Tapley to find, pervading167 all these conversations, a singular alteration168 in Martin.
‘I don’t know what to make of him,’ he thought one night, ‘he ain’t what I supposed. He don’t think of himself half as much. I’ll try him again. Asleep, sir?’
‘No, Mark.’
‘Thinking of home, sir?’
‘Yes, Mark.’
‘So was I, sir. I was wondering how Mr Pinch and Mr Pecksniff gets on now.’
‘Poor Tom!’ said Martin, thoughtfully.
‘Weak-minded man, sir,’ observed Mr Tapley. ‘Plays the organ for nothing, sir. Takes no care of himself?’
‘I wish he took a little more, indeed,’ said Martin. ‘Though I don’t know why I should. We shouldn’t like him half as well, perhaps.’
‘He gets put upon, sir,’ hinted Mark.
‘Yes!’ said Martin, after a short silence. ‘I know that, Mark.’
He spoke so regretfully that his partner abandoned the theme, and was silent for a short time until he had thought of another.
‘Ah, sir!’ said Mark, with a sigh. ‘Dear me! You’ve ventured a good deal for a young lady’s love!’
‘I tell you what. I’m not so sure of that, Mark,’ was the reply; so hastily and energetically spoken, that Martin sat up in his bed to give it. ‘I begin to be far from clear upon it. You may depend upon it she is very unhappy. She has sacrificed her peace of mind; she has endangered her interests very much; she can’t run away from those who are jealous of her, and opposed to her, as I have done. She has to endure, Mark; to endure without the possibility of action, poor girl! I begin to think that she has more to bear than ever I had. Upon my soul I do!’
Mr Tapley opened his eyes wide in the dark; but did not interrupt.
‘And I’ll tell you a secret, Mark,’ said Martin, ‘since we are upon this subject. That ring—’
‘Which ring, sir?’ Mark inquired, opening his eyes still wider.
‘That ring she gave me when we parted, Mark. She bought it; bought it; knowing I was poor and proud (Heaven help me! Proud!) and wanted money.’
‘Who says so, sir?’ asked Mark.
‘I say so. I know it. I thought of it, my good fellow, hundreds of times, while you were lying ill. And like a beast, I took it from her hand, and wore it on my own, and never dreamed of this even at the moment when I parted with it, when some faint glimmering169 of the truth might surely have possessed170 me! But it’s late,’ said Martin, checking himself, ‘and you are weak and tired, I know. You only talk to cheer me up. Good night! God bless you, Mark!’
‘God bless you, sir! But I’m reg’larly defrauded,’ thought Mr Tapley, turning round with a happy face. ‘It’s a swindle. I never entered for this sort of service. There’ll be no credit in being jolly with him!’
The time wore on, and other steamboats coming from the point on which their hopes were fixed, arrived to take in wood; but still no answer to the letter. Rain, heat, foul171 slime, and noxious172 vapour, with all the ills and filthy173 things they bred, prevailed. The earth, the air, the vegetation, and the water that they drank, all teemed61 with deadly properties. Their fellow-passenger had lost two children long before; and buried now her last. Such things are much too common to be widely known or cared for. Smart citizens grow rich, and friendless victims smart and die, and are forgotten. That is all.
At last a boat came panting up the ugly river, and stopped at Eden. Mark was waiting at the wood hut when it came, and had a letter handed to him from on board. He bore it off to Martin. They looked at one another, trembling.
‘It feels heavy,’ faltered174 Martin. And opening it a little roll of dollar-notes fell out upon the ground.
What either of them said, or did, or felt, at first, neither of them knew. All Mark could ever tell was, that he was at the river’s bank again out of breath, before the boat had gone, inquiring when it would retrace175 its track and put in there.
The answer was, in ten or twelve days; notwithstanding which they began to get their goods together and to tie them up that very night. When this stage of excitement was passed, each of them believed (they found this out, in talking of it afterwards) that he would surely die before the boat returned.
They lived, however, and it came, after the lapse102 of three long crawling weeks. At sunrise, on an autumn day, they stood upon her deck.
‘Courage! We shall meet again!’ cried Martin, waving his hand to two thin figures on the bank. ‘In the Old World!’
‘Or in the next one,’ added Mark below his breath. ‘To see them standing176 side by side, so quiet, is a’most the worst of all!’
They looked at one another as the vessel177 moved away, and then looked backward at the spot from which it hurried fast. The log-house, with the open door, and drooping178 trees about it; the stagnant179 morning mist, and red sun, dimly seen beyond; the vapour rising up from land and river; the quick stream making the loathsome180 banks it washed more flat and dull; how often they returned in dreams! How often it was happiness to wake and find them Shadows that had vanished!
点击收听单词发音
1 proceedings | |
n.进程,过程,议程;诉讼(程序);公报 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 proceeding | |
n.行动,进行,(pl.)会议录,学报 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 proprietors | |
n.所有人,业主( proprietor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 poetically | |
adv.有诗意地,用韵文 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 worthies | |
应得某事物( worthy的名词复数 ); 值得做某事; 可尊敬的; 有(某人或事物)的典型特征 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 talons | |
n.(尤指猛禽的)爪( talon的名词复数 );(如爪般的)手指;爪状物;锁簧尖状突出部 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 joint | |
adj.联合的,共同的;n.关节,接合处;v.连接,贴合 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 attained | |
(通常经过努力)实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 ); 达到; 获得; 达到(某年龄、水平、状况) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 desolate | |
adj.荒凉的,荒芜的;孤独的,凄凉的;v.使荒芜,使孤寂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 wan | |
(wide area network)广域网 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 commodious | |
adj.宽敞的;使用方便的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 alligator | |
n.短吻鳄(一种鳄鱼) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 melancholy | |
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 exclamation | |
n.感叹号,惊呼,惊叹词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 uncommon | |
adj.罕见的,非凡的,不平常的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 hoarse | |
adj.嘶哑的,沙哑的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 inquiry | |
n.打听,询问,调查,查问 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 mansion | |
n.大厦,大楼;宅第 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 superstitious | |
adj.迷信的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 refreshing | |
adj.使精神振作的,使人清爽的,使人喜欢的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 spotted | |
adj.有斑点的,斑纹的,弄污了的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 pegs | |
n.衣夹( peg的名词复数 );挂钉;系帐篷的桩;弦钮v.用夹子或钉子固定( peg的第三人称单数 );使固定在某水平 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 crevice | |
n.(岩石、墙等)裂缝;缺口 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 vice | |
n.坏事;恶习;[pl.]台钳,老虎钳;adj.副的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 seasoning | |
n.调味;调味料;增添趣味之物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 unreasonable | |
adj.不讲道理的,不合情理的,过度的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 gratitude | |
adj.感激,感谢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 frightful | |
adj.可怕的;讨厌的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 spasm | |
n.痉挛,抽搐;一阵发作 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 aggravated | |
使恶化( aggravate的过去式和过去分词 ); 使更严重; 激怒; 使恼火 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 emaciated | |
adj.衰弱的,消瘦的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 alleviate | |
v.减轻,缓和,缓解(痛苦等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 backwards | |
adv.往回地,向原处,倒,相反,前后倒置地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 bestow | |
v.把…赠与,把…授予;花费 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 exacting | |
adj.苛求的,要求严格的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 habitual | |
adj.习惯性的;通常的,惯常的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 disposition | |
n.性情,性格;意向,倾向;排列,部署 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 confided | |
v.吐露(秘密,心事等)( confide的过去式和过去分词 );(向某人)吐露(隐私、秘密等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 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: |
|
|
41 groan | |
vi./n.呻吟,抱怨;(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 underneath | |
adj.在...下面,在...底下;adv.在下面 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 groaned | |
v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 );发牢骚;抱怨;受苦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 patriot | |
n.爱国者,爱国主义者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 inverted | |
adj.反向的,倒转的v.使倒置,使反转( invert的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 stimulated | |
a.刺激的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 wholesome | |
adj.适合;卫生的;有益健康的;显示身心健康的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 decomposed | |
已分解的,已腐烂的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 complacently | |
adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 faculty | |
n.才能;学院,系;(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 wager | |
n.赌注;vt.押注,打赌 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 actively | |
adv.积极地,勤奋地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 elevation | |
n.高度;海拔;高地;上升;提高 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 feverish | |
adj.发烧的,狂热的,兴奋的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 irritation | |
n.激怒,恼怒,生气 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 inoculated | |
v.给…做预防注射( inoculate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 sardonic | |
adj.嘲笑的,冷笑的,讥讽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 remarkable | |
adj.显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 esteemed | |
adj.受人尊敬的v.尊敬( esteem的过去式和过去分词 );敬重;认为;以为 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 teemed | |
v.充满( teem的过去式和过去分词 );到处都是;(指水、雨等)暴降;倾注 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 brace | |
n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 revolving | |
adj.旋转的,轮转式的;循环的v.(使)旋转( revolve的现在分词 );细想 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 allusion | |
n.暗示,间接提示 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 adversary | |
adj.敌手,对手 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 gallant | |
adj.英勇的,豪侠的;(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 consort | |
v.相伴;结交 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 tickling | |
反馈,回授,自旋挠痒法 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 outskirts | |
n.郊外,郊区 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 gouging | |
n.刨削[槽]v.凿( gouge的现在分词 );乱要价;(在…中)抠出…;挖出… | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 speculation | |
n.思索,沉思;猜测;投机 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 prevailing | |
adj.盛行的;占优势的;主要的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 contented | |
adj.满意的,安心的,知足的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 agitation | |
n.搅动;搅拌;鼓动,煽动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 spartan | |
adj.简朴的,刻苦的;n.斯巴达;斯巴达式的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 portico | |
n.柱廊,门廊 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 placidly | |
adv.平稳地,平静地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 dungeons | |
n.地牢( dungeon的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 juncture | |
n.时刻,关键时刻,紧要关头 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 miserable | |
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 swampy | |
adj.沼泽的,湿地的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 winked | |
v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 );递眼色(表示友好或高兴等);(指光)闪烁;闪亮 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 gallows | |
n.绞刑架,绞台 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 derived | |
vi.起源;由来;衍生;导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 );(从…中)得到获得;源于;(从…中)提取 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 outright | |
adv.坦率地;彻底地;立即;adj.无疑的;彻底的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 enjoyment | |
n.乐趣;享有;享用 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 converse | |
vi.谈话,谈天,闲聊;adv.相反的,相反 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 delusion | |
n.谬见,欺骗,幻觉,迷惑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 entreated | |
恳求,乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 riddled | |
adj.布满的;充斥的;泛滥的v.解谜,出谜题(riddle的过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 virtue | |
n.德行,美德;贞操;优点;功效,效力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 snarls | |
n.(动物的)龇牙低吼( snarl的名词复数 );愤怒叫嚷(声);咆哮(声);疼痛叫声v.(指狗)吠,嗥叫, (人)咆哮( snarl的第三人称单数 );咆哮着说,厉声地说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 chattering | |
n. (机器振动发出的)咔嗒声,(鸟等)鸣,啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的,啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 fatigue | |
n.疲劳,劳累 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 fatigued | |
adj. 疲乏的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 toil | |
vi.辛劳工作,艰难地行动;n.苦工,难事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 dismal | |
adj.阴沉的,凄凉的,令人忧郁的,差劲的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 devoted | |
adj.忠诚的,忠实的,热心的,献身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 lapse | |
n.过失,流逝,失效,抛弃信仰,间隔;vi.堕落,停止,失效,流逝;vt.使失效 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 nourishment | |
n.食物,营养品;营养情况 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 dreaded | |
adj.令人畏惧的;害怕的v.害怕,恐惧,担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 malady | |
n.病,疾病(通常做比喻) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 wilderness | |
n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等,荒漠 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 stumps | |
(被砍下的树的)树桩( stump的名词复数 ); 残肢; (板球三柱门的)柱; 残余部分 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 drudgery | |
n.苦工,重活,单调乏味的工作 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 vigour | |
(=vigor)n.智力,体力,精力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 distressing | |
a.使人痛苦的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 distress | |
n.苦恼,痛苦,不舒适;不幸;vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 meditations | |
默想( meditation的名词复数 ); 默念; 沉思; 冥想 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 undoubtedly | |
adv.确实地,无疑地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 vices | |
缺陷( vice的名词复数 ); 恶习; 不道德行为; 台钳 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 antagonists | |
对立[对抗] 者,对手,敌手( antagonist的名词复数 ); 对抗肌; 对抗药 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 covetous | |
adj.贪婪的,贪心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 propensities | |
n.倾向,习性( propensity的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 guardian | |
n.监护人;守卫者,保护者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 repelled | |
v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 );使厌恶;排斥;推开 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 accusation | |
n.控告,指责,谴责 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 aspersed | |
v.毁坏(名誉),中伤,诽谤( asperse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 extremity | |
n.末端,尽头;尽力;终极;极度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 dreading | |
v.害怕,恐惧,担心( dread的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 fidelity | |
n.忠诚,忠实;精确 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 zeal | |
n.热心,热情,热忱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 dilated | |
adj.加宽的,扩大的v.(使某物)扩大,膨胀,张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 hideous | |
adj.丑陋的,可憎的,可怕的,恐怖的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 solitude | |
n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 quenched | |
解(渴)( quench的过去式和过去分词 ); 终止(某事物); (用水)扑灭(火焰等); 将(热物体)放入水中急速冷却 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 rattling | |
adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 thicket | |
n.灌木丛,树林 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 steadily | |
adv.稳定地;不变地;持续地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 solely | |
adv.仅仅,唯一地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 jot | |
n.少量;vi.草草记下;vt.匆匆写下 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 humility | |
n.谦逊,谦恭 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139 steadfastness | |
n.坚定,稳当 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 armour | |
(=armor)n.盔甲;装甲部队 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 flickered | |
(通常指灯光)闪烁,摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 deserted | |
adj.荒芜的,荒废的,无人的,被遗弃的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 implore | |
vt.乞求,恳求,哀求 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 corpses | |
n.死尸,尸体( corpse的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 vehemence | |
n.热切;激烈;愤怒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 frankly | |
adv.坦白地,直率地;坦率地说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
147 ingenuously | |
adv.率直地,正直地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
148 concealment | |
n.隐藏, 掩盖,隐瞒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
149 miseries | |
n.痛苦( misery的名词复数 );痛苦的事;穷困;常发牢骚的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
150 straightforward | |
adj.正直的,坦率的;易懂的,简单的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
151 abode | |
n.住处,住所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
152 memorable | |
adj.值得回忆的,难忘的,特别的,显著的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
153 entreaty | |
n.恳求,哀求 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
154 awakened | |
v.(使)醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 );(使)觉醒;弄醒;(使)意识到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
155 eminent | |
adj.显赫的,杰出的,有名的,优良的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
156 sifted | |
v.筛( sift的过去式和过去分词 );筛滤;细查;详审 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
157 whittled | |
v.切,削(木头),使逐渐变小( whittle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
158 metaphorically | |
adv. 用比喻地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
159 monstrously | |
参考例句: |
|
|
160 defective | |
adj.有毛病的,有问题的,有瑕疵的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
161 putrid | |
adj.腐臭的;有毒的;已腐烂的;卑劣的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
162 withered | |
adj. 枯萎的,干瘪的,(人身体的部分器官)因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
163 penal | |
adj.刑罚的;刑法上的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
164 spoke | |
n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
165 tranquillity | |
n. 平静, 安静 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
166 amazement | |
n.惊奇,惊讶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
167 pervading | |
v.遍及,弥漫( pervade的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
168 alteration | |
n.变更,改变;蚀变 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
169 glimmering | |
n.微光,隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光,发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
170 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
171 foul | |
adj.污秽的;邪恶的;v.弄脏;妨害;犯规;n.犯规 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
172 noxious | |
adj.有害的,有毒的;使道德败坏的,讨厌的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
173 filthy | |
adj.卑劣的;恶劣的,肮脏的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
174 faltered | |
(嗓音)颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 ); 支吾其词; 蹒跚; 摇晃 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
175 retrace | |
v.折回;追溯,探源 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
176 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
177 vessel | |
n.船舶;容器,器皿;管,导管,血管 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
178 drooping | |
adj. 下垂的,无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
179 stagnant | |
adj.不流动的,停滞的,不景气的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
180 loathsome | |
adj.讨厌的,令人厌恶的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |