“Take that blue one. I have not much appetite, and can't eat if things are not nice and pretty. I like the flowers. I've been longing1 for some ever since I saw them last night.”
The first speaker was a red-haired, freckle2-faced girl, in a brown calico dress and white apron3, with a tray in her hands and an air of timid hospitality in her manner; the second a pale, pretty creature, in a white wrapper and blue net, sitting in a large chair, looking about her with the languid interest of an invalid4 in a new place. Her eyes brightened as they fell upon a glass of rosy5 laurel and delicate maidenhair fern that stood among the toast and eggs, strawberries and cream, on the tray.
“Our laurel is jest in blow, and I'm real glad you come in time to see it. I'll bring you a lot, as soon's ever I get time to go for it.”
As she spoke6, the plain girl replaced the ugly crockery cup and saucer with the pretty china ones pointed7 out to her, arranged the dishes, and waited to see if anything else was needed.
“What is your name, please?” asked the pretty girl, refreshing8 herself with a draught9 of new milk.
“Rebecca. Mother thought I'd better wait on you; the little girls are so noisy and apt to forget. Wouldn't you like a piller to your back? you look so kind of feeble seems as if you wanted to be propped10 up a mite11.”
There was so much compassion12 and good-will in the face and voice, that Emily accepted the offer, and let Rebecca arrange a cushion behind her; then, while the one ate daintily, and the other stirred about an inner room, the talk went on,—for two girls are seldom long silent when together.
“I think the air is going to suit me, for I slept all night and never woke till Mamma had been up ever so long and got things all nicely settled,” said Emily, graciously, when the fresh strawberries had been enjoyed, and the bread and butter began to vanish.
“I'm real glad you like it; most folks do, if they don't mind it being plain and quiet up here. It's gayer down at the hotel, but the air ain't half so good, and delicate folks generally like our old place best,” answered Becky, as she tossed over a mattress13 and shook out the sheet with a brisk, capable air pleasant to see.
“I wanted to go to the hotel, but the doctor said it would be too noisy for me, so Mamma was glad to find rooms here. I didn't think a farm-house COULD be so pleasant. That view is perfectly14 splendid!” and Emily sat up to gaze delightedly out of the window, below which spread the wide intervale, through which the river ran with hay-fields on either side, while along the green slopes of the hills lay farm-houses with garden plots, and big barns waiting for the harvest; and beyond, the rocky, wooded pastures dotted with cattle and musical with cow-bells, brooks15, and birds.
A balmy wind kissed a little color into the pale cheeks, the listless eyes brightened as they looked, and the fretful lines vanished from lips that smiled involuntarily at the sweet welcome Nature gave the city child come to rest and play and grow gay and rosy in her green lap.
Becky watched her with interest, and was glad to see how soon the new-comer felt the charm of the place, for the girl loved her mountain home, and thought the old farm-house the loveliest spot in the world.
“When you get stronger I can show you lots of nice views round here. There's a woodsy place behind the house that's just lovely. Down by the laurel bushes is MY favorite spot, and among the rocks is a cave where I keep things handy when I get a resting-spell now and then, and want to be quiet. Can't get much at home, when there's boarders and five children round in vacation time.”
Becky laughed as she spoke, and there was a sweet motherly look in her plain face, as she glanced at the three little red heads bobbing about the door-yard below, where hens cackled, a pet lamb fed, and the old white dog lay blinking in the sun.
“I like children; we have none at home, and Mamma makes such a baby of me I'm almost ashamed sometimes. I want her to have a good rest now, for she has taken care of me all winter and needs it. You shall be my nurse, if I need one; but I hope to be so well soon that I can see to myself. It's so tiresome18 to be ill!” and Emily sighed as she leaned back among her pillows, with a glance at the little glass which showed her a thin face and shorn head.
“It must be! I never was sick, but I have taken care of sick folks, and have a sight of sympathy for 'em. Mother says I make a pretty good nurse, being strong and quiet,” answered Becky, plumping up pillows and folding towels with a gentle despatch19 which was very grateful to the invalid, who had dreaded20 a noisy, awkward serving-maid.
“Never ill! how nice that must be! I'm always having colds and headaches, and fusses of some kind. What do you do to keep well, Rebecca?” asked Emily, watching her with interest, as she came in to remove the tray.
“Nothing but work; I haven't time to be sick, and when I'm tuckered out, I go and rest over yonder. Then I'm all right, and buckle21 to again, as smart as ever;” and every freckle in Becky's rosy face seemed to shine with cheerful strength and courage.
“I'm 'tuckered out' doing nothing,” said Emily, amused with the new expression, and eager to try a remedy which showed such fine results in this case. “I shall visit your pet places and do a little work as soon as I am able, and see if it won't set me up. Now I can only dawdle22, doze23, and read a little. Will you please put those books here on the table? I shall want them by-and-by.”
Emily pointed to a pile of blue and gold volumes lying on a trunk, and Becky dusted her hands as she took them up with an air of reverence24, for she read on the backs of the volumes names which made her eyes sparkle.
“Do you care for poetry?” asked Emily, surprised at the girl's look and manner.
“Guess I do! don't get much except the pieces I cut out of papers, but I love 'em, and stick 'em in an old ledger25, and keep it down in my cubby among the rocks. I do love THAT man's pieces. They seem to go right to the spot somehow;” and Becky smiled at the name of Whittier as if the sweetest of our poets was a dear old friend of hers.
“I like Tennyson better. Do you know him?” asked Emily, with a superior air, for the idea of this farmer's daughter knowing anything about poetry amused her.
“Oh yes, I've got a number of his pieces in my book, and I'm fond of 'em. But this man makes things so kind of true and natural I feel at home with HIM. And this one I've longed to read, though I guess I can't understand much of it. His 'Bumble Bee' was just lovely; with the grass and columbines and the yellow breeches of the bee. I'm never tired of that;” and Becky's face woke up into something like beauty as she glanced hungrily at the Emerson while she dusted the delicate cover that hid the treasures she coveted27.
“I don't care much for him, but Mamma does. I like romantic poems, and ballads28, and songs; don't like descriptions of clouds and fields, and bees, and farmers,” said Emily, showing plainly that even Emerson's simplest poems were far above her comprehension as yet, because she loved sentiment more than Nature.
“I do, because I know 'em better than love and the romantic stuff most poetry tells about. But I don't pretend to judge, I'm glad of anything I can get. Now if you don't want me I'll pick up my dishes and go to work.”
With that Becky went away, leaving Emily to rest and dream with her eyes on the landscape which was giving her better poetry than any her books held. She told her mother about the odd girl, and was sure she would be amusing if she did not forget her place and try to be friends.
“She is a good creature, my dear, her mother's main stay, and works beyond her strength, I am sure. Be kind to the poor girl, and put a little pleasure into her life if you can,” answered Mrs. Spenser, as she moved about, settling comforts and luxuries for her invalid.
“I shall HAVE to talk to her, as there is no other person of my age in the house. How are the school marms? shall you get on with them, Mamma? It will be so lonely here for us both, if we don't make friends with some one.”
“Most intelligent and amiable29 women all three, and we shall have pleasant times together, I am sure. You may safely cultivate Becky; Mrs. Taylor told me she was a remarkably30 bright girl, though she may not look it.”
“Well, I'll see. But I do hate freckles31 and big red hands, and round shoulders. She can't help it, I suppose, but ugly things fret17 me.”
“Remember that she has no time to be pretty, and be glad she is so neat and willing. Shall we read, dear? I'm ready now.”
Emily consented, and listened for an hour or two while the pleasant voice beside her conjured32 away all her vapors33 with some of Mrs. Ewing's charming tales.
“The grass is dry now, and I want to stroll on that green lawn before lunch. You rest, Mamma dear, and let me make discoveries all alone,” proposed Emily, when the sun shone warmly, and the instinct of all young creatures for air and motion called her out.
So, with her hat and wrap, and book and parasol, she set forth34 to explore the new land in which she found herself.
Down the wide, creaking stairs and out upon the door-stone she went, pausing there for a moment to decide where first to go. The sound of some one singing in the rear of the house led her in that direction, and turning the corner she made her first pleasant discovery. A hill rose steeply behind the farm-house, and leaning from the bank was an old apple-tree, shading a spring that trickled35 out from the rocks and dropped into a mossy trough below. Up the tree had grown a wild grape-vine, making a green canopy36 over the great log which served as a seat, and some one had planted maidenhair ferns about both seat and spring to flourish beautifully in the damp, shady spot.
“Oh, how pretty! I'll go and sit there. It looks clean, and I can see what is going on in that big kitchen, and hear the singing. I suppose it's Becky's little sisters by the racket.”
Emily established herself on the lichen-covered log with her feet upon a stone, and sat enjoying the musical tinkle37 of the water, with her eyes on the delicate ferns stirring in the wind, and the lively jingle38 of the multiplication-table chanted by childish voices in her ear.
Presently two little girls with a great pan of beans came to do their work on the back doorstep, a third was seen washing dishes at a window, and Becky's brown-spotted gown flew about the kitchen as if a very energetic girl wore it. A woman's voice was heard giving directions, as the speaker was evidently picking chickens somewhere out of sight.
A little of the talk reached Emily and both amused and annoyed her, for it proved that the country people were not as stupid as they looked.
“Oh, well, we mustn't mind if she IS notional and kind of wearing; she's been sick, and it will take time to get rid of her fretty ways. Jest be pleasant, and take no notice, and that nice mother of hers will make it all right,” said the woman's voice.
“How anybody with every mortal thing to be happy with CAN be out-of-sorts passes me. She fussed about every piller, chair, trunk, and mite of food last night, and kept that poor tired lady trotting39 till I was provoked. She's right pleasant this morning though, and as pretty as a picture in her ruffled40 gown and that blue thing on her head,” answered Becky from the pantry, as she rattled41 out the pie-board, little dreaming who sat hidden behind the grape-vine festoons that veiled the corner by the spring.
“Well, she's got redder hair 'n' we have, so she needn't be so grand and try to hide it with blue nets,” added one little voice.
“Yes, and it's ever so much shorter 'n' ours, and curls all over her head like Daisy's wool. I should think such a big girl would feel real ashamed without no braids,” said the other child, proudly surveying the tawny42 mane that hung over her shoulders,—for like most red-haired people all the children were blessed with luxuriant crops of every shade from golden auburn to regular carrots.
“I think it's lovely. Suppose it had to be cut off when she had the fever. Wish I could get rid of my mop, it's such a bother;” and Becky was seen tying a clean towel over the great knot that made her head look very like a copper43 kettle.
“Now fly round, deary, and get them pies ready. I'll have these fowls44 on in a minute, and then go to my butter. You run off and see if you can't find some wild strawberries for the poor girl, soon's ever you are through with them beans, children. We must kind of pamper45 her up for a spell till her appetite comes back,” said the mother.
Here the chat ended, and soon the little girls were gone, leaving Becky alone rolling out pie-crust before the pantry window. As she worked her lips moved, and Emily, still peeping through the leaves, wondered what she was saying, for a low murmur46 rose and fell, emphasized now and then with a thump47 of the rolling-pin.
“I mean to go and find out. If I stand on that wash-bench I can look in and see her work. I'll show them all that I'm NOT 'fussy,' and can be 'right pleasant' if I like.”
With this wise resolution Emily went down the little path, and after pausing to examine the churn set out to dry, and the row of pans shining on a neighboring shelf, made her way to the window, mounted the bench while Becky's back was turned, and pushing away the morning-glory vines and scarlet48 beans that ran up on either side peeped in with such a smiling face that the crossest cook could not have frowned on her as an intruder.
“May I see you work? I can't eat pies, but I like to watch people make them. Do you mind?”
“Not a bit. I'd ask you to come in, but it's dreadful hot here, and not much room,” answered Becky, crimping round the pastry49 before she poured in the custard. “I'm going to make a nice little pudding for you; your mother said you liked 'em; or would you rather have whipped cream with a mite of jelly in it?” asked Becky, anxious to suit her new boarder.
“Whichever is easiest to make. I don't care what I eat. Do tell me what you were saying. It sounded like poetry,” said Emily, leaning both elbows on the wide ledge26 with a pale pink morning-glory kissing her cheek, and a savory50 odor reaching her nose.
“Oh, I was mumbling51 some verses. I often do when I work, it sort of helps me along; but it must sound dreadfully silly,” and Becky blushed as if caught in some serious fault.
“I do it, and it's a great comfort when I lie awake. I should think you WOULD want something to help you along, you work so hard. Do you like it, Becky?”
The familiar name, the kind tone, made the plain face brighten with pleasure as its owner said, while she carefully filled a pretty bowl with a golden mixture rich with fresh eggs and country milk—
“No, I don't, but I ought to. Mother isn't as strong as she used to be, and there's a sight to do, and the children to be brought up, and the mortgage to be paid off; so if I don't fly round, who will? We are doing real well now, for Mr. Walker manages the farm and gives us our share, so our living is all right; then boarders in summer and my school in winter helps a deal, and every year the boys can do more, so I'd be a real sinner to complain if I do have to step lively all day.”
Becky smiled as she spoke, and straightened her bent52 shoulders as if settling her burden for another trudge53 along the path of duty.
“Do you keep school? Why, how old are you, Becky?” asked Emily, much impressed by this new discovery.
“I'm eighteen. I took the place of a teacher who got sick last fall, and I kept school all winter. Folks seemed to like me, and I'm going to have the same place this year. I'm so glad, for I needn't go away and the pay is pretty good, as the school is large and the children do well. You can see the school-house down the valley, that red brick one where the roads meet;” and Becky pointed a floury finger, with an air of pride that was pleasant to see.
Emily glanced at the little red house where the sun shone hotly in summer, and all the winds of heaven must rage wildly in winter time, for it stood, as country schools usually do, in the barest, most uninviting spot for miles around.
“Isn't it awful down there in winter?” she asked, with a shiver at the idea of spending days shut up in that forlorn place, with a crowd of rough country children.
“Pretty cold, but we have plenty of wood, and we are used to snow and gales54 up here. We often coast down, the whole lot of us, and that is great fun. We take our dinners and have games noon-spells, and so we get on first rate; some of my boys are big fellows, older than I am; they clear the roads and make the fire and look after us, and we are real happy together.”
Emily found it so impossible to imagine happiness under such circumstances that she changed the subject by asking in a tone which had unconsciously grown more respectful since this last revelation of Becky's abilities,—
“If you do so well here, why don't you try for a larger school in a better place?”
“Oh, I couldn't leave mother yet; I hope to some day, when the girls are older, and the boys able to get on alone. But I can't go now, for there's a sight of things to do, and mother is always laid up with rheumatism55 in cold weather. So much butter-making down cellar is bad for her; but she won't let me do that in summer, so I take care of her in winter. I can see to things night and morning, and through the day she's quiet, and sits piecing carpet-rags and resting up for next spring. We made and wove all the carpets in the house, except the parlor56 one. Mrs. Taylor gave us that, and the curtains, and the easy-chair. Mother takes a sight of comfort in that.”
“Mrs. Taylor is the lady who first came to board here, and told us and others about it,” said Emily.
“Yes, and she's the kindest lady in the world! I'll tell you all about her some day, it's real interesting; now I must see to my pies, and get the vegetables on,” answered Becky, glancing at the gay clock in the kitchen with an anxious look.
“Then I won't waste any more of your precious time. May I sit in that pretty place; or is it your private bower57?” asked Emily, as she dismounted from the wash-bench.
“Yes, indeed you may. That's mother's resting-place when work is done. Father made the spring long ago, and I put the ferns there. She can't go rambling58 round, and she likes pretty things, so we fixed59 it up for her, and she takes comfort there nights.”
Becky bustled60 off to the oven with her pies, and Emily roamed away to the big barn to lie on the hay, enjoying the view down the valley, as she thought over what she had seen and heard, and very naturally contrasted her own luxurious61 and tenderly guarded life with this other girl's, so hard and dull and narrow. Working all summer and teaching all winter in that dismal62 little school-house, with no change but home cares and carpet-weaving! It looked horrible to pleasure-loving Emily, who led the happy, care-free life of girls of her class, with pleasures of all sorts, and a future of still greater luxury, variety, and happiness, opening brightly before her.
It worried her to think of any one being contented63 with such a meagre share of the good things of life, when she was unsatisfied in spite of the rich store showered upon her. She could not understand it, and fell asleep wishing every one could be comfortable,—it was so annoying to see them grubbing in kitchens, teaching in bleak64 school-houses among snow-drifts, and wearing ugly calico gowns.
A week or two of quiet, country fare and the bracing65 mountain air worked wonders for the invalid, and every one rejoiced to see the pale cheeks begin to grow round and rosy, the languid eyes to brighten, and the feeble girl who used to lie on her sofa half the day now go walking about with her alpenstock, eager to explore all the pretty nooks among the hills. Her mother blessed Mrs. Taylor for suggesting this wholesome66 place. The tired “school marms,” as Emily called the three young women who were their fellow-boarders, congratulated her as well as themselves on the daily improvement in strength and spirits all felt; and Becky exulted67 in the marvellous effects of her native air, aided by mother's good cookery and the cheerful society of the children, whom the good girl considered the most remarkable68 and lovable youngsters in the world.
Emily felt like the queen of this little kingdom, and was regarded as such by every one, for with returning health she lost her fretful ways, and living with simple people, soon forgot her girlish airs and vanities, becoming very sweet and friendly with all about her. The children considered her a sort of good fairy who could grant wishes with magical skill, as various gifts plainly proved. The boys were her devoted69 servants, ready to run errands, “hitch up” and take her to drive at any hour, or listen in mute delight when she sang to her guitar in the summer twilight70.
But to Becky she was a special godsend and comfort, for before the first month had gone they were good friends, and Emily had made a discovery which filled her head with brilliant plans for Becky's future, in spite of her mother's warnings, and the sensible girl's own reluctance71 to be dazzled by enthusiastic prophecies and dreams.
It came about in this way. Some three weeks after the two girls met, Emily went one evening to their favorite trysting-place,—Becky's bower among the laurels72. It was a pretty nook in the shadow of a great gray bowlder near the head of the green valley which ran down to spread into the wide intervale below. A brook16 went babbling73 among the stones and grass and sweet-ferns, while all the slope was rosy with laurel-flowers in their times, as the sturdy bushes grew thickly on the hill-side, down the valley, and among the woods that made a rich background for these pink and white bouquets74 arranged with Nature's own careless grace.
Emily liked this spot, and ever since she had been strong enough to reach it, loved to climb up and sit there with book and work, enjoying the lovely panorama75 before her. Floating mists often gave her a constant succession of pretty pictures; now a sunny glimpse of the distant lake, then the church spire76 peeping above the hill, or a flock of sheep feeding in the meadow, a gay procession of young pilgrims winding77 up the mountain, or a black cloud heavy with a coming storm, welcome because of the glorious rainbow and its shadow which would close the pageant78.
Unconsciously the girl grew to feel not only the beauty but the value of these quiet hours, to find a new peace, refreshment79, and happiness, bubbling up in her heart as naturally as the brook gushed80 out among the mossy rocks, and went singing away through hayfields and gardens, and by dusty roads, till it met the river and rolled on to the sea. Something dimly stirred in her, and the healing spirit that haunts such spots did its sweet ministering till the innocent soul began to see that life was not perfect without labor81 as well as love, duty as well as happiness, and that true contentment came from within, not from without.
On the evening we speak of, she went to wait for Becky, who would join her as soon as the after-supper chores were done. In the little cave which held a few books, a dipper, and a birch-bark basket for berries, Emily kept a sketching82 block and a box of pencils, and often amused herself by trying to catch some of the lovely scenes before her. These efforts usually ended in a humbler attempt, and a good study of an oak-tree, a bit of rock, or a clump83 of ferns was the result. This evening the sunset was so beautiful she could not draw, and remembering that somewhere in Becky's scrap-book there was a fine description of such an hour by some poet, she pulled out the shabby old volume, and began to turn over the leaves.
She had never cared to look at it but once, having read all the best of its contents in more attractive volumes, so Becky kept it tucked away in the farther corner of her rustic84 closet, and evidently thought it a safe place to conceal85 a certain little secret which Emily now discovered. As she turned the stiff pages filled with all sorts of verses, good, bad, and indifferent, a sheet of paper appeared on which was scribbled these lines in school-girl handwriting:—
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1
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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freckle
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| n.雀簧；晒斑 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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spoke
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| 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 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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propped
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| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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mite
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| n.极小的东西；小铜币 | |
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compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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mattress
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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brooks
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brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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fret
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| v.(使)烦恼；(使)焦急；(使)腐蚀，(使)磨损 | |
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tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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despatch
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| n./v.(dispatch)派遣；发送；n.急件；新闻报道 | |
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dreaded
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| 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) | |
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buckle
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dawdle
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| vi.浪费时间；闲荡 | |
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doze
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reverence
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ledger
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ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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coveted
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| adj.令人垂涎的；垂涎的，梦寐以求的v.贪求，觊觎(covet的过去分词)；垂涎；贪图 | |
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ballads
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| 民歌，民谣，特别指叙述故事的歌( ballad的名词复数 )； 讴 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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freckles
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| n.雀斑，斑点( freckle的名词复数 ) | |
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conjured
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| 用魔术变出( conjure的过去式和过去分词 )； 祈求，恳求； 变戏法； （变魔术般地） 使…出现 | |
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vapors
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| n.水汽，水蒸气，无实质之物( vapor的名词复数 )；自夸者；幻想 [药]吸入剂 [古]忧郁（症）v.自夸，（使）蒸发( vapor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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trickled
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| v.滴( trickle的过去式和过去分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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tinkle
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| vi.叮当作响；n.叮当声 | |
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jingle
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| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
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trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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fowls
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| 鸟( fowl的名词复数 )； 禽肉； 既不是这； 非驴非马 | |
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pamper
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| v.纵容，过分关怀 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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thump
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| v.重击，砰然地响；n.重击，重击声 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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pastry
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| n.油酥面团，酥皮糕点 | |
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savory
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| adj.风味极佳的，可口的，味香的 | |
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mumbling
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的现在分词 ) | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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trudge
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| v.步履艰难地走；n.跋涉，费力艰难的步行 | |
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gales
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| 龙猫 | |
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rheumatism
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| n.风湿病 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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bower
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| n.凉亭，树荫下凉快之处；闺房；v.荫蔽 | |
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rambling
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| adj.[建]凌乱的，杂乱的 | |
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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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bustled
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| 闹哄哄地忙乱，奔忙( bustle的过去式和过去分词 )； 催促 | |
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luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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bracing
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| adj.令人振奋的 | |
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wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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exulted
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| 狂喜，欢跃( exult的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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laurels
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| n.桂冠，荣誉 | |
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babbling
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| n.胡说，婴儿发出的咿哑声adj.胡说的v.喋喋不休( babble的现在分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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bouquets
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| n.花束( bouquet的名词复数 )；（酒的）芳香 | |
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panorama
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| n.全景，全景画，全景摄影，全景照片[装置] | |
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spire
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| n.(教堂)尖顶，尖塔，高点 | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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78
pageant
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| n.壮观的游行；露天历史剧 | |
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refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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gushed
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| v.喷，涌( gush的过去式和过去分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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81
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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82
sketching
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| n.草图 | |
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83
clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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84
rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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