His wife had little cause for complaint against him, for he hardly ever got drunk oftener than once a month at the Georgetown Court Day. He saw to it that there was always, or at least nearly always, at least one fat hog in the pen waiting to be butchered at Thanksgiving or Christmas. He aimed every spring to raise enough corn so that there would be plenty to
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feed the hens, to fatten8 his hog or hogs9 and to furnish material for the daily cornmeal cakes until next season's crop came on. If Bill did not always succeed in this laudable endeavor, the blame was not laid at his door by his neighbors and certainly not by himself. If there came a dry spell that withered10 up the corn just as it was filling out in the ear, it wasn't Bill's fault. And if a rainy season set in and kept the ground so wet that he couldn't get into the patch with a cultivator, it was none of his doing if the weeds grew so fast that they soon overtopped the corn. Bill was not the inventor of weeds nor of their nefarious11 habit of growing faster than corn. Under such circumstances reflections like this gave him much peace of mind and spiritual comfort. There was considerable satisfaction in being able to shift the blame onto the Almighty12; and there was still further repose13 of spirit in the thought that no effort of his own weak, human frame could undo14 the damage done by the will of that all-powerful being. If the corn crop was light, it was light, and that was all there was to it; and there would be that much less corn to shuck out and that much less fodder15 to haul in.
There were of course other matters pertaining16 to the farm over which Bill could exercise more control than he did over the rain supply. On these latter his mind could not repose with the same peaceful abandon; hence he did not concentrate upon them. The fences that needed mending, the manure17 that ought to be hauled out, the brush that should be cut out of his pasture to give the grass a chance to grow: these things preyed18 more or less upon Bill's mind, but he did not allow them to annoy him too constantly. After all, he told himself, there was just so much that one man could do on a place. A man couldn't be hauling out manure and cutting brush and mending fence all at the same time; and there was no use in worrying because everything was not kept up to the top notch19. Besides, a fellow had to have a little rest now and then and a chance to visit with his neighbors, or what use to be alive at all?
Bill dearly loved to rest and visit. They were his favorite
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pastimes and indeed about the only ones that the circumstances of his life offered to him. To sit on a rail fence or a hitching21 post with a chew of tobacco in his cheek, a bit of wood in his left hand and a jack-knife in his right, and pass the time of day with all and sundry22 who happened by, was as much as Bill asked of life. Whether the place was his own barnyard or Jim Townsend's blacksmith shop or Peter Akers' general merchandise store in Clayton made no particular difference to Bill so long as he could sit and chew and whittle23 and talk. He was built long and rickety, nondescript of feature, but with a bright twinkle of humor and kindliness24 in his gray eyes; and his tall, narrow-chested figure was a frequent sight about the lounging places of Clayton.
The main trouble with Bill was that along with nine-tenths of the rest of humanity, he had missed his calling. He was by nature a villager, not a farmer, and the great regret of his life was that he had not been a blacksmith. He had mastered the trade through sheer love of it and had become the best of non-professional blacksmiths. He shod his own horses and the horses of all his neighbors, asking them nothing in return but the pleasure of their company while he worked. To have a little shop of his own in the village whither the farmers would come from six or seven miles around, bringing their horses and all the news and gossip of the neighborhood, that had always been Bill's unrealized dream. Chance, however, that wayward arbiter25 of the fates of all of us, by making Bill the son of a farmer and the husband of a woman who had inherited a farm, had spoiled a good blacksmith to make a poor farmer. It did not occur to him to repine or cry out against his lot or consider himself in any way a blighted26 being on this account. He merely cast a momentarily envious27 eye upon Jim Townsend, the blacksmith, whenever he happened to see him, and went on farming—after a fashion. He was a gentle, kindly28 and sociable29 soul, and the good will of his neighbors meant more to him than anything else on earth except his family.
His family consisted of his wife and five children. Aunt
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Annie Pippinger, a small, inconsequential woman in the early forties, was all one color, like an old faded daguerreotype30. She may have had some claims to prettiness in the days when Bill courted her; but they had long since gone, leaving her a bit of drab insignificance31. Crawford, the eldest32 boy, was surprisingly handsome and quite as surprisingly indolent of mind and body. The twins, Luella and Lizzie May, were thin, sickly-looking little girls. Lizzie May was pretty in a pale, blond, small-featured way. Luella had a long, pale face, drab hair and dull gray eyes; and her mouth hung open as though she had adenoids. Judith was the third girl, born two years after the twins. After her there was an interval33 of four years marked for Aunt Annie Pippinger by two miscarriages34 and a stillborn infant. At the end of this interval a child was born who grew into a chubby35, round-eyed, stupid-looking little boy named Elmer.
These children played and quarreled and made discordant36, schoolyard noises in the dooryard of a little, three-room shanty37 standing38 upon forty-seven acres of heavy clay land which Aunt Annie Pippinger had inherited from her father. The front yard had been plowed39 up at some time or other but never planted to anything; and the result was a plentiful40 crop of ragweed, yarrow and pink-blooming soapwort. Two or three rose bushes clung to the broken picket41 fence and made it gay in June; and by the front door there was a large bush that bore beautiful creamy roses, tinged42 in the bud ever so slightly with delicate pink. By the back porch a lilac bush as tall as a small tree made April fragrant43 for the Pippingers.
The back dooryard was beaten bare and hard by the playing feet of children and the dumping of endless tubs of soapsuds and pans of dishwater. A discarded cookstove lying on its side against the back wall of the kitchen, formed the nucleus44 for a pile of rust-eaten pots and pans. Beyond the bare spot, a fringe of mustard, ragweed, and burdock reached to the picket fence. Along this fence a dozen or so stalks of hollyhock bloomed in summer gorgeously pink and scarlet45 against a blue sky. The smoke house and the back house occupied
[Pg 7]
opposite corners of this yard, a well worn path through the weeds leading the way to each.
A stone's throw beyond the picket fence stood the barn, a structure that had been in need of repairs these many years, and part of the roof and sides of an old wagon46 shed. Here, too, was the horsepond, overhung by a big weeping willow47, and a small corral that Bill had built for the milking of the cows. Beyond rose a grassy48 slope dotted with locust49 trees. A few straggly apple and peach trees, mostly sprung from seed, grew here and there in odd corners.
The Pippinger farm, like all the rest of the land immediately about it, consisted of hills sloping more or less gently into each other, so that there was no level ground to be found anywhere. This was characteristic of the whole of Scott County. Everywhere there were hills: steep hills and gentle hills, high hills and low hills, plowed hills, and grassy hills and weed-covered hills, but always hills. These hills sometimes ran in long ridges50 across the land with hollows on each side and other hills sloping up from the hollows. The only level land was the narrow strips at the bottoms of these hollows made by the washing down of soil from the hills.
A great deal of otherwise good land was spoiled in this way. If the hills were kept in bluegrass or sweet clover, they "stayed put." But when they were plowed for corn or tobacco and afterward51 left to grow up in weeds, the heavy rains cut deep gullies in their sides and washed the good soil to the bottom. This was the case with most of the Pippinger acres. There was only a small amount of land left that was smooth enough to be plowed for corn. Ever since the family had moved onto the place, which was when Crawford was a baby, Bill had talked about how he was going to "stop up them gullies an' put in sweet clover." But each year the gullies wore deeper and each year Bill talked less about reclaiming52 them. There was still enough pasture, however, for two cows, Roanie and Reddie and a team of gray mules that answered, though sometimes reluctantly, to the names of Tom and Bob. Scratching and cackling hens made the barnyard lively; there were geese
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on the horsepond; and a few turkeys ranged in the surrounding fields and grew fat on the corn and alfalfa for miles around.
This was the center of the universe for the Pippinger children. Here they played the games that they had learned in the schoolyard: "Blind Man's Buff," "Tag," "Tom, Tom, pull away," and "Little Sally Waters." They made playhouses in fence corners where they treasured up bits of colored glass and stones glittering with mica53. They hunted for the eggs of hens that had stolen their nests. They stalked the turkeys to find out where they were laying the precious turkey eggs. They stood around their mother as she churned and with greedy little fingers scraped off the spattered blobs of butter as they appeared on the dasher stick and the churn top. When house-cleaning time was come and their mother had the front room carpet out on the line, they crept in between its dusty folds and crawled gleefully up and down making the mild April evening vibrant54 with their shouts and laughter. They gathered wild raspberries and blackberries in summer and in autumn hickory nuts and black walnuts55. They brought up the cows for the milking and exemplified the phrase, "Straight from producer to consumer," by milking into their own mouths. They made dandelion chains in spring and burr baskets in autumn and scattered56 the silky fluff of ripe milkweed pods into the sunny autumn air. They held buttercups under each other's chins to see if they liked butter. They quarreled over the possession of playthings and other subjects of childish dispute. Sometimes they fought savagely57 and kicked each other's shins and made vigorous attempts to scratch and bite, then ran crying and complaining to their mother.
A radius58 of some eight or ten miles about the farm formed their entire world. Within this circle was Clayton, the source of groceries, candy and Christmas toys, as were also the homes of the various grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins with whom they visited. Almost every Sunday, and sometimes on a week day, Bill would hitch20 up Tom and Bob to the spring wagon as soon as the morning chores were done, and the whole family, dressed in clean denim59 and starched60 calico, would jog
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away over the winding61 dirt road to the home of one or other of their kin1 for an all-day visit. The parent Pippingers sat on the seat in front, which was padded with a couple of old patchwork62 quilts; and the children made themselves comfortable seats in the thick straw of the wagon body.
So they would drive out into the sunshine, up hill and down hill, across rickety wooden bridges, around gentle bends and sharp turns, past corn patches and tobacco fields and long stretches of land grown up in weeds and brush; through little groves63 of second growth maple65 and hickory, past old log houses and weathered frame shanties66 and big tobacco barns and occasional large, more or less pretentious67 dwellings68 surrounded by lawns, till they came to grandad's or Aunt Abigail's or Cousin Rubena's, and there halted for the day.
It was not considered necessary to warn relatives that on such and such a day they were to receive seven all-day visitors. Such an idea had never occurred to Bill or his wife or any of their connections. The Pippingers themselves received many such guests, and were quite as glad to be visited as to visit. There was no sin greater than the sin of being stingy with your time, your food, or your work. To intimate by word, deed, or look that visitors were not welcome was unthinkable in the social circle in which Bill's family and their kin moved.
When the visiting Pippingers reached their destination, whether it was grandad's or Aunt Abigail's or Cousin Rubena's, the procedure was always the same. Everybody, men, women, and children, came out to the wagon to welcome the visitors. There would follow a few moments of general kissing, handshaking, comments on the weather, and mutual69 inquiries70 concerning health. Then the men unhitched, put up the mules, and retired72 to the barnyard to chew, whittle, and exchange silence-punctuated views on the three main topics of common interest, the weather, the crops, and the neighbors. The children straggled after them or ran to the wagon shed to see the new litter of puppies or started a game of "Hide and Seek" in the dooryard. Aunt Annie Pippinger went with the womenfolk back into the house, where, having laid aside her sun-bonnet
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and jacket, she immediately started to scrape potatoes, cut string beans, peel apples, or otherwise help with the preparations for dinner.
The whole day was spent in this way. The men loafed in the barnyard; the children played or hung in semi-boredom about their elders; the women cooked and washed dishes in the house. And when these tasks were done and the kitchen floor swept, they sat down stiffly on straight-backed chairs, smoothed their aprons73 and talked about the price of calico, the raising of chickens, the recent sudden death of Uncle James Cruikshanks, the stroke that Aunt Jenny Boone had had last week, and other such topics.
The only break in what would seem to an outsider an interminable stretch of tedium74 was the dinner. This usually consisted of salt hog meat, fried or boiled, potatoes and some other vegetable, followed by a heavy-crusted apple pie or a soggy boiled pudding. If it were summer or autumn there would likely be a big platter of "roastin' ears," sliced ripe tomatoes, or sliced cucumbers and onions in vinegar. Everybody ate plentifully75 and silently, and as soon as the meal was over the men slouched back to the barnyard.
When the sun began to slant76 low in the western sky, Bill would at last bring the wagon around. Aunt Annie Pippinger would put on her sunbonnet and jacket, and the children, seeing the mules hitched71 up, would straggle up one by one from their play. There would be a long family gathering77 about the wagon before the visitors drove off; for nothing having to do with social intercourse78 is ever done in a hurry in rural Kentucky. They had had all day to talk to each other, and they had repeated the same things many, many times over. It was getting late, too, and there was a long drive ahead of them and all the chores were waiting to be done. But still there could be no hurried leave-taking; there was no precedent79 for such a thing. So they all stood about the wagon and exchanged some more prophecies about the weather and some more comments on Aunt Jenny Boone's stroke and Uncle James Cruikshank's sudden death. And then there would be a long
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silence. And at last, in the midst of the silence, Bill would gather up the lines. Then, having allowed a decent interval to elapse, he would give the lines a gentle shake and clear his throat.
"Waal, I guess we'd better be a-hittin' the high places. It'll be dark agin we git home an' the chores'll be to do by lantern light. Is all them young uns in there back, or are we a-leavin' some of 'em behind? Waal, anyway a couple or three more ner less don't make no p'tic'ler odds80. Come over all."
"You come agin," the visitees would chant in chorus; and followed by this never failing invitation to return the Pippinger coach and pair would trundle out of the barnyard.
The remaining important factor in the life of the Pippinger children was school. Bill himself like many of his neighbors could neither read nor write, and hence was very firmly convinced of the benefits to be derived81 from an education and determined82 that his children should have the best that was to be had. Nothing, therefore, except bad weather, was allowed to interfere83 with their regular attendance at school. The school was two miles from the Pippinger farm. It was a small, whitewashed84, oblong box standing close to the road in the midst of a circle of bare, beaten ground. A grove64 of stately maples85 and beeches86, fringing the bare spot, made a fine place for "Hide and Seek."
Inside a small pine kitchen table formed the teacher's desk, which stood on a slightly raised platform. There were the usual jackknife-carved double wooden benches and the inevitable87 lithographs88 of Washington and Lincoln. Some admirer had contributed a large, impressive print of Roosevelt, which had been given the place of honor immediately over the teacher's desk. A large map of the United States, printed many years previously89 and much yellowed by age, hung between the windows on one side. These, with the blackboard, were the only mural decorations.
Here Lena Moss90, an anemic little girl of eighteen, still a child herself in mind and body, who had been educated for a year and a half at the Georgetown High School, did what she
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could to drill the three R's into the somewhat blockish heads of about twenty children ranging in years from five to the still tender age of the teacher herself.
Fortunately Lena did not have much trouble with discipline. Her pupils were not, like little city hoodlums, vulgar and boisterous91 with the life of the streets. Nor were they like the children in smaller towns, who are quite as vulgar and boisterous and are held less in control because their school "system" is perforce less ironly rigid92 than that in the big cities. Lena's pupils were mostly inbred and undernourished children, brought up from infancy93 on skim milk, sowbelly, and cornmeal cakes, and living on lonely farms where they had no chance to develop infantile mob spirit. They were pallid94, long-faced, adenoidal little creatures, who were too tired after the long walk to school to give the teacher much trouble. The slang, rag, and jazz, which standardize95 vulgarity in the towns and cities, penetrated96 to this out-of-the-way corner only as faint, scarcely-heard echoes. The phonograph and the colored "funny sheet" were unknown. Hence, Lena, though she did not know it, had much to be thankful for. The loud munching97 of apples, the shuffling98 of feet, the occasional throwing of spit-balls, or exchanging of scribbled99 notes were the main breaches100 of a discipline which was never at any time at all rigid. There was one pupil, however, who often gave the teacher a good deal of trouble; and that, strange to say, was a girl. She was Bill Pippinger's youngest daughter, Judith.
Judith was a lithe101, active, slim little creature, monkey-like in the agility102 with which she could climb trees and shin up poles and vault103 over fences. Her bare, brown toes took hold like fingers. There was something wild and evasive about her swift, sinuous104 little body, alive with quick, unexpected movements, like those of a young animal. She was like a naughty little goblin that springs up mockingly in your path and before you can reach for it has run up a tree or vanished into the thicket105. These characteristics of her body were somewhat contradicted by her face, vivid and bold in color and outline and habitually106 serious. Her eyebrows107 were black and straight
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and rather too heavy; and beneath them her gray eyes were dark, clear, and steady. She had a way of seeming to look through and through you when she fixed108 you with even a passing glance. These qualities of elusiveness109 and boldness seemed bafflingly interwoven in her character and made her a hard pupil to deal with. Lena never knew what to expect from her.
Without doubt the troublesomeness of Judith was partly due to the fact that she was better fed than most of the other children. Bill was one who never stinted110 his children in their food if he could possibly help it. When there was a shortage he let it affect his own plate. The Pippingers were not so saving as most of their neighbors; they did not take every ounce of butter to the village store to sell at fifteen cents a pound. Eggs, too, were not entire strangers to their table. The fact of comparatively good nourishment111 did not, however, explain away all of Judith's bad conduct; for the other Pippinger children, fed on the same fare, were model pupils in the school. There was something then in the girl's own inherited nature that made her different from her brothers and sisters and from the docile112, mouse-like little girls and boys who sat beside her on the school benches.
In backwoods corners of America, where the people have been poor and benighted113 for several generations and where for as many generations no new blood has entered, where everybody is cousin, first, second, or third, to everybody else for miles around, the children are mostly dull of mind and scrawny of body. Not infrequently, however, there will be born a child of clear features and strong, straight body, as a reminder114 of earlier pioneer days when clear features and strong, straight bodies were the rule rather than the exception. Bill Pippinger had two such children, Crawford and Judith. Crawford was, like many of the good-looking children of the neighborhood, merely an empty shell. He had inherited the appearance of some pioneer ancestor without any of the qualities of initiative and energy that had made him a pioneer. Judith, however, was quite different. Sometimes when she was bringing up Roanie and Reddie from the pasture at a fast trot115 or driving
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the mules out of the cornfield with much whooping116, arm-waving, and bad language, Bill, watching her dynamic, long-legged little figure, would say with a sort of restrained admiration117: "Land, that little gal118's got life enough for a dozen sech—too much life, too much life for a gal!"
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1
kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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mules
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| 骡( mule的名词复数 )； 拖鞋； 顽固的人； 越境运毒者 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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hog
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| n.猪；馋嘴贪吃的人；vt.把…占为己有，独占 | |
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5
heeded
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的过去式和过去分词 )；变平，使（某物）变平( flatten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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fatten
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| v.使肥，变肥 | |
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hogs
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| n.（尤指喂肥供食用的）猪( hog的名词复数 )；（供食用的）阉公猪；彻底地做某事；自私的或贪婪的人 | |
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withered
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| 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 | |
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nefarious
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| adj.恶毒的，极坏的 | |
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almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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undo
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| vt.解开，松开；取消，撤销 | |
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fodder
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| n.草料；炮灰 | |
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pertaining
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| 与…有关系的，附属…的，为…固有的(to) | |
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manure
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| n.粪，肥，肥粒；vt.施肥 | |
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preyed
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| v.掠食( prey的过去式和过去分词 )；掠食；折磨；（人）靠欺诈为生 | |
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notch
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| n.(V字形)槽口，缺口，等级 | |
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hitch
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| v.免费搭(车旅行)；系住；急提；n.故障；急拉 | |
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hitching
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| 搭乘； （免费）搭乘他人之车( hitch的现在分词 )； 搭便车； 攀上； 跃上 | |
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sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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whittle
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| v.削（木头），削减；n.屠刀 | |
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kindliness
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| n.厚道，亲切，友好的行为 | |
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arbiter
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| n.仲裁人，公断人 | |
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blighted
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| adj.枯萎的，摧毁的 | |
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envious
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| adj.嫉妒的，羡慕的 | |
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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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sociable
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| adj.好交际的，友好的，合群的 | |
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daguerreotype
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| n.银板照相 | |
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insignificance
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| n.不重要；无价值；无意义 | |
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eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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miscarriages
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| 流产( miscarriage的名词复数 ) | |
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chubby
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| adj.丰满的，圆胖的 | |
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discordant
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| adj.不调和的 | |
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shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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plowed
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| v.耕( plow的过去式和过去分词 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
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plentiful
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| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
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picket
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| n.纠察队；警戒哨；v.设置纠察线；布置警卫 | |
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42
tinged
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| v.（使）发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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43
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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44
nucleus
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| n.核，核心，原子核 | |
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45
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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46
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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47
willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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48
grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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49
locust
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| n.蝗虫；洋槐，刺槐 | |
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50
ridges
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| n.脊( ridge的名词复数 )；山脊；脊状突起；大气层的)高压脊 | |
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51
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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52
reclaiming
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| v.开拓( reclaim的现在分词 )；要求收回；从废料中回收（有用的材料）；挽救 | |
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53
mica
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| n.云母 | |
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54
vibrant
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| adj.震颤的，响亮的，充满活力的，精力充沛的，(色彩)鲜明的 | |
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55
walnuts
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| 胡桃（树）( walnut的名词复数 )； 胡桃木 | |
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56
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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57
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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58
radius
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| n.半径，半径范围；有效航程，范围，界限 | |
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59
denim
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| n.斜纹棉布；斜纹棉布裤，牛仔裤 | |
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60
starched
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| adj.浆硬的，硬挺的，拘泥刻板的v.把（衣服、床单等）浆一浆( starch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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61
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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62
patchwork
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| n.混杂物；拼缝物 | |
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63
groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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64
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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65
maple
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| n.槭树，枫树，槭木 | |
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66
shanties
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| n.简陋的小木屋( shanty的名词复数 )；铁皮棚屋；船工号子；船歌 | |
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67
pretentious
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| adj.自命不凡的，自负的，炫耀的 | |
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68
dwellings
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| n.住处，处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
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69
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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71
hitched
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| （免费）搭乘他人之车( hitch的过去式和过去分词 )； 搭便车； 攀上； 跃上 | |
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72
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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73
aprons
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| 围裙( apron的名词复数 )； 停机坪，台口（舞台幕前的部份） | |
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74
tedium
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| n.单调；烦闷 | |
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75
plentifully
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| adv. 许多地，丰饶地 | |
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76
slant
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| v.倾斜，倾向性地编写或报道；n.斜面，倾向 | |
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77
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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78
intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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precedent
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| n.先例，前例；惯例；adj.在前的，在先的 | |
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80
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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81
derived
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| 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 | |
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82
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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83
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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84
whitewashed
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| 粉饰，美化，掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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85
maples
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| 槭树，枫树( maple的名词复数 )； 槭木 | |
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86
beeches
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| n.山毛榉( beech的名词复数 )；山毛榉木材 | |
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87
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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88
lithographs
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| n.平版印刷品( lithograph的名词复数 ) | |
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89
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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90
moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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91
boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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92
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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93
infancy
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| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
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94
pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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95
standardize
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| v.使符合标准，使标准化 | |
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96
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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97
munching
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| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的现在分词 ) | |
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98
shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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99
scribbled
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| v.潦草的书写( scribble的过去式和过去分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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100
breaches
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| 破坏( breach的名词复数 )； 破裂； 缺口； 违背 | |
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101
lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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102
agility
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| n.敏捷，活泼 | |
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103
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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104
sinuous
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| adj.蜿蜒的，迂回的 | |
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105
thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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106
habitually
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| ad.习惯地，通常地 | |
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107
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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108
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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109
elusiveness
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| 狡诈 | |
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110
stinted
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| v.限制，节省（stint的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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111
nourishment
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| n.食物，营养品；营养情况 | |
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112
docile
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| adj.驯服的，易控制的，容易教的 | |
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113
benighted
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| adj.蒙昧的 | |
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114
reminder
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| n.提醒物，纪念品；暗示，提示 | |
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115
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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116
whooping
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| 发嗬嗬声的，发咳声的 | |
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117
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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118
gal
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| n.姑娘，少女 | |
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