Though I always say, I AND MY CHIMNEY, as Cardinal2 Wolsey used to say, “I AND MY KING,” yet this egotistic way of speaking, wherein I take precedence of my chimney, is hereby borne out by the facts; in everything, except the above phrase, my chimney taking precedence of me.
Within thirty feet of the turf-sided road, my chimney—a huge, corpulent old Harry4 VIII of a chimney—rises full in front of me and all my possessions. Standing5 well up a hillside, my chimney, like Lord Rosse’s monster telescope, swung vertical6 to hit the meridian7 moon, is the first object to greet the approaching traveler’s eye, nor is it the last which the sun salutes8. My chimney, too, is before me in receiving the first-fruits of the seasons. The snow is on its head ere on my hat; and every spring, as in a hollow beech9 tree, the first swallows build their nests in it.
But it is within doors that the pre-eminence of my chimney is most manifest. When in the rear room, set apart for that object, I stand to receive my guests (who, by the way call more, I suspect, to see my chimney than me) I then stand, not so much before, as, strictly10 speaking, behind my chimney, which is, indeed, the true host. Not that I demur11. In the presence of my betters, I hope I know my place.
From this habitual12 precedence of my chimney over me, some even think that I have got into a sad rearward way altogether; in short, from standing behind my old-fashioned chimney so much, I have got to be quite behind the age too, as well as running behindhand in everything else. But to tell the truth, I never was a very forward old fellow, nor what my farming neighbors call a forehanded one. Indeed, those rumors13 about my behindhandedness are so far correct, that I have an odd sauntering way with me sometimes of going about with my hands behind my back. As for my belonging to the rear-guard in general, certain it is, I bring up the rear of my chimney—which, by the way, is this moment before me—and that, too, both in fancy and fact. In brief, my chimney is my superior; my superior, too, in that humbly14 bowing over with shovel15 and tongs16, I much minister to it; yet never does it minister, or incline over to me; but, if anything, in its settlings, rather leans the other way.
My chimney is grand seignior here—the one great domineering object, not more of the landscape, than of the house; all the rest of which house, in each architectural arrangement, as may shortly appear, is, in the most marked manner, accommodated, not to my wants, but to my chimney’s, which, among other things, has the centre of the house to himself, leaving but the odd holes and corners to me.
In those houses which are strictly double houses—that is, where the hall is in the middle—the fireplaces usually are on opposite sides; so that while one member of the household is warming himself at a fire built into a recess19 of the north wall, say another member, the former’s own brother, perhaps, may be holding his feet to the blaze before a hearth20 in the south wall—the two thus fairly sitting back to back. Is this well? Be it put to any man who has a proper fraternal feeling. Has it not a sort of sulky appearance? But very probably this style of chimney building originated with some architect afflicted21 with a quarrelsome family.
Then again, almost every modern fireplace has its separate flue—separate throughout, from hearth to chimney-top. At least such an arrangement is deemed desirable. Does not this look egotistical, selfish? But still more, all these separate flues, instead of having independent masonry22 establishments of their own, or instead of being grouped together in one federal stock in the middle of the house—instead of this, I say, each flue is surreptitiously honey-combed into the walls; so that these last are here and there, or indeed almost anywhere, treacherously23 hollow, and, in consequence, more or less weak. Of course, the main reason of this style of chimney building is to economize24 room. In cities, where lots are sold by the inch, small space is to spare for a chimney constructed on magnanimous principles; and, as with most thin men, who are generally tall, so with such houses, what is lacking in breadth, must be made up in height. This remark holds true even with regard to many very stylish25 abodes26, built by the most stylish of gentlemen. And yet, when that stylish gentleman, Louis le Grand of France, would build a palace for his lady, friend, Madame de Maintenon, he built it but one story high—in fact in the cottage style. But then, how uncommonly29 quadrangular, spacious30, and broad—horizontal acres, not vertical ones. Such is the palace, which, in all its one-storied magnificence of Languedoc marble, in the garden of Versailles, still remains31 to this day. Any man can buy a square foot of land and plant a liberty-pole on it; but it takes a king to set apart whole acres for a grand triannon.
But nowadays it is different; and furthermore, what originated in a necessity has been mounted into a vaunt. In towns there is large rivalry32 in building tall houses. If one gentleman builds his house four stories high, and another gentleman comes next door and builds five stories high, then the former, not to be looked down upon that way, immediately sends for his architect and claps a fifth and a sixth story on top of his previous four. And, not till the gentleman has achieved his aspiration33, not till he has stolen over the way by twilight34 and observed how his sixth story soars beyond his neighbor’s fifth—not till then does he retire to his rest with satisfaction.
Such folks, it seems to me, need mountains for neighbors, to take this emulous conceit35 of soaring out of them.
If, considering that mine is a very wide house, and by no means lofty, aught in the above may appear like interested pleading, as if I did but fold myself about in the cloak of a general proposition, cunningly to tickle36 my individual vanity beneath it, such misconception must vanish upon my frankly37 conceding, that land adjoining my alder38 swamp was sold last month for ten dollars an acre, and thought a rash purchase at that; so that for wide houses hereabouts there is plenty of room, and cheap. Indeed so cheap—dirt cheap—is the soil, that our elms thrust out their roots in it, and hang their great boughs39 over it, in the most lavish40 and reckless way. Almost all our crops, too, are sown broadcast, even peas and turnips41. A farmer among us, who should go about his twenty-acre field, poking42 his finger into it here and there, and dropping down a mustard seed, would be thought a penurious43, narrow-minded husbandman. The dandelions in the river-meadows, and the forget-me-nots along the mountain roads, you see at once they are put to no economy in space. Some seasons, too, our rye comes up here and there a spear, sole and single like a church-spire. It doesn’t care to crowd itself where it knows there is such a deal of room. The world is wide, the world is all before us, says the rye. Weeds, too, it is amazing how they spread. No such thing as arresting them—some of our pastures being a sort of Alsatia for the weeds. As for the grass, every spring it is like Kossuth’s rising of what he calls the peoples. Mountains, too, a regular camp-meeting of them. For the same reason, the same all-sufficiency of room, our shadows march and countermarch, going through their various drills and masterly evolutions, like the old imperial guard on the Champs de Mars. As for the hills, especially where the roads cross them the supervisors44 of our various towns have given notice to all concerned, that they can come and dig them down and cart them off, and never a cent to pay, no more than for the privilege of picking blackberries. The stranger who is buried here, what liberal-hearted landed proprietor46 among us grudges47 him six feet of rocky pasture?
Nevertheless, cheap, after all, as our land is, and much as it is trodden under foot, I, for one, am proud of it for what it bears; and chiefly for its three great lions—the Great Oak, Ogg Mountain, and my chimney.
Most houses, here, are but one and a half stories high; few exceed two. That in which I and my chimney dwell, is in width nearly twice its height, from sill to eaves—which accounts for the magnitude of its main content—besides showing that in this house, as in this country at large, there is abundance of space, and to spare, for both of us.
The frame of the old house is of wood—which but the more sets forth48 the solidity of the chimney, which is of brick. And as the great wrought49 nails, binding50 the clapboards, are unknown in these degenerate51 days, so are the huge bricks in the chimney walls. The architect of the chimney must have had the pyramid of Cheops before him; for, after that famous structure, it seems modeled, only its rate of decrease towards the summit is considerably52 less, and it is truncated53. From the exact middle of the mansion54 it soars from the cellar, right up through each successive floor, till, four feet square, it breaks water from the ridge-pole of the roof, like an anvil-headed whale, through the crest55 of a billow. Most people, though, liken it, in that part, to a razed56 observatory57, masoned up.
The reason for its peculiar58 appearance above the roof touches upon rather delicate ground. How shall I reveal that, forasmuch as many years ago the original gable roof of the old house had become very leaky, a temporary proprietor hired a band of woodmen, with their huge, cross-cut saws, and went to sawing the old gable roof clean off. Off it went, with all its birds’ nests, and dormer windows. It was replaced with a modern roof, more fit for a railway wood-house than an old country gentleman’s abode27. This operation—razeeing the structure some fifteen feet—was, in effect upon the chimney, something like the falling of the great spring tides. It left uncommon28 low water all about the chimney—to abate59 which appearance, the same person now proceeds to slice fifteen feet off the chimney itself, actually beheading my royal old chimney—a regicidal act, which, were it not for the palliating fact that he was a poulterer by trade, and, therefore, hardened to such neck-wringings, should send that former proprietor down to posterity60 in the same cart with Cromwell.
Owing to its pyramidal shape, the reduction of the chimney inordinately61 widened its razeed summit. Inordinately, I say, but only in the estimation of such as have no eye to the picturesque62. What care I, if, unaware63 that my chimney, as a free citizen of this free land, stands upon an independent basis of its own, people passing it, wonder how such a brick-kiln, as they call it, is supported upon mere64 joists and rafters? What care I? I will give a traveler a cup of switchel, if he want it; but am I bound to supply him with a sweet taste? Men of cultivated minds see, in my old house and chimney, a goodly old elephant-and-castle.
All feeling hearts will sympathize with me in what I am now about to add. The surgical66 operation, above referred to, necessarily brought into the open air a part of the chimney previously67 under cover, and intended to remain so, and, therefore, not built of what are called weather-bricks. In consequence, the chimney, though of a vigorous constitution, suffered not a little, from so naked an exposure; and, unable to acclimate68 itself, ere long began to fail—showing blotchy69 symptoms akin3 to those in measles70. Whereupon travelers, passing my way, would wag their heads, laughing; “See that wax nose—how it melts off!” But what cared I? The same travelers would travel across the sea to view Kenilworth peeling away, and for a very good reason: that of all artists of the picturesque, decay wears the palm—I would say, the ivy71. In fact, I’ve often thought that the proper place for my old chimney is ivied old England.
In vain my wife—with what probable ulterior intent will, ere long, appear—solemnly warned me, that unless something were done, and speedily, we should be burnt to the ground, owing to the holes crumbling72 through the aforesaid blotchy parts, where the chimney joined the roof. “Wife,” said I, “far better that my house should burn down, than that my chimney should be pulled down, though but a few feet. They call it a wax nose; very good; not for me to tweak the nose of my superior.” But at last the man who has a mortgage on the house dropped me a note, reminding me that, if my chimney was allowed to stand in that invalid73 condition, my policy of insurance would be void. This was a sort of hint not to be neglected. All the world over, the picturesque yields to the pocketesque. The mortgagor cared not, but the mortgagee did.
So another operation was performed. The wax nose was taken off, and a new one fitted on. Unfortunately for the expression—being put up by a squint-eyed mason, who, at the time, had a bad stitch in the same side—the new nose stands a little awry74, in the same direction.
Of one thing, however, I am proud. The horizontal dimensions of the new part are unreduced.
Large as the chimney appears upon the roof, that is nothing to its spaciousness75 below. At its base in the cellar, it is precisely76 twelve feet square; and hence covers precisely one hundred and forty-four superficial feet. What an appropriation77 of terra firma for a chimney, and what a huge load for this earth! In fact, it was only because I and my chimney formed no part of his ancient burden, that that stout78 peddler, Atlas79 of old, was enabled to stand up so bravely under his pack. The dimensions given may, perhaps, seem fabulous80. But, like those stones at Gilgal, which Joshua set up for a memorial of having passed over Jordan, does not my chimney remain, even unto this day?
Very often I go down into my cellar, and attentively81 survey that vast square of masonry. I stand long, and ponder over, and wonder at it. It has a druidical look, away down in the umbrageous82 cellar there whose numerous vaulted83 passages, and far glens of gloom, resemble the dark, damp depths of primeval woods. So strongly did this conceit steal over me, so deeply was I penetrated85 with wonder at the chimney, that one day—when I was a little out of my mind, I now think—getting a spade from the garden, I set to work, digging round the foundation, especially at the corners thereof, obscurely prompted by dreams of striking upon some old, earthen-worn memorial of that by-gone day, when, into all this gloom, the light of heaven entered, as the masons laid the foundation-stones, peradventure sweltering under an August sun, or pelted86 by a March storm. Plying87 my blunted spade, how vexed88 was I by that ungracious interruption of a neighbor who, calling to see me upon some business, and being informed that I was below said I need not be troubled to come up, but he would go down to me; and so, without ceremony, and without my having been forewarned, suddenly discovered me, digging in my cellar.
“Gold digging, sir?”
“Nay89, sir,” answered I, starting, “I was merely—ahem!—merely—I say I was merely digging-round my chimney.”
“Ah, loosening the soil, to make it grow. Your chimney, sir, you regard as too small, I suppose; needing further development, especially at the top?”
“Sir!” said I, throwing down the spade, “do not be personal. I and my chimney—”
“Personal?”
“Sir, I look upon this chimney less as a pile of masonry than as a personage. It is the king of the house. I am but a suffered and inferior subject.”
In fact, I would permit no gibes90 to be cast at either myself or my chimney; and never again did my visitor refer to it in my hearing, without coupling some compliment with the mention. It well deserves a respectful consideration. There it stands, solitary91 and alone—not a council—of ten flues, but, like his sacred majesty92 of Russia, a unit of an autocrat93.
Even to me, its dimensions, at times, seem incredible. It does not look so big—no, not even in the cellar. By the mere eye, its magnitude can be but imperfectly comprehended, because only one side can be received at one time; and said side can only present twelve feet, linear measure. But then, each other side also is twelve feet long; and the whole obviously forms a square and twelve times twelve is one hundred and forty-four. And so, an adequate conception of the magnitude of this chimney is only to be got at by a sort of process in the higher mathematics by a method somewhat akin to those whereby the surprising distances of fixed94 stars are computed95.
It need hardly be said, that the walls of my house are entirely96 free from fireplaces. These all congregate97 in the middle—in the one grand central chimney, upon all four sides of which are hearths—two tiers of hearths—so that when, in the various chambers99, my family and guests are warming themselves of a cold winter’s night, just before retiring, then, though at the time they may not be thinking so, all their faces mutually look towards each other, yea, all their feet point to one centre; and, when they go to sleep in their beds, they all sleep round one warm chimney, like so many Iroquois Indians, in the woods, round their one heap of embers. And just as the Indians’ fire serves, not only to keep them comfortable, but also to keep off wolves, and other savage101 monsters, so my chimney, by its obvious smoke at top, keeps off prowling burglars from the towns—for what burglar or murderer would dare break into an abode from whose chimney issues such a continual smoke—betokening that if the inmates102 are not stirring, at least fires are, and in case of an alarm, candles may readily be lighted, to say nothing of muskets103.
But stately as is the chimney—yea, grand high altar as it is, right worthy104 for the celebration of high mass before the Pope of Rome, and all his cardinals—yet what is there perfect in this world? Caius Julius Caesar, had he not been so inordinately great, they say that Brutus, Cassius, Antony, and the rest, had been greater. My chimney, were it not so mighty105 in its magnitude, my chambers had been larger. How often has my wife ruefully told me, that my chimney, like the English aristocracy, casts a contracting shade all round it. She avers106 that endless domestic inconveniences arise—more particularly from the chimney’s stubborn central locality. The grand objection with her is, that it stands midway in the place where a fine entrance-hall ought to be. In truth, there is no hall whatever to the house—nothing but a sort of square landing-place, as you enter from the wide front door. A roomy enough landing-place, I admit, but not attaining107 to the dignity of a hall. Now, as the front door is precisely in the middle of the front of the house, inwards it faces the chimney. In fact, the opposite wall of the landing-place is formed solely108 by the chimney; and hence-owing to the gradual tapering109 of the chimney—is a little less than twelve feet in width. Climbing the chimney in this part, is the principal staircase—which, by three abrupt110 turns, and three minor111 landing-places, mounts to the second floor, where, over the front door, runs a sort of narrow gallery, something less than twelve feet long, leading to chambers on either hand. This gallery, of course, is railed; and so, looking down upon the stairs, and all those landing-places together, with the main one at bottom, resembles not a little a balcony for musicians, in some jolly old abode, in times Elizabethan. Shall I tell a weakness? I cherish the cobwebs there, and many a time arrest Biddy in the act of brushing them with her broom, and have many a quarrel with my wife and daughters about it.
Now the ceiling, so to speak, of the place where you enter the house, that ceiling is, in fact, the ceiling of the second floor, not the first. The two floors are made one here; so that ascending112 this turning stairs, you seem going up into a kind of soaring tower, or lighthouse. At the second landing, midway up the chimney, is a mysterious door, entering to a mysterious closet; and here I keep mysterious cordials, of a choice, mysterious flavor, made so by the constant nurturing113 and subtle ripening114 of the chimney’s gentle heat, distilled116 through that warm mass of masonry. Better for wines is it than voyages to the Indias; my chimney itself a tropic. A chair by my chimney in a November day is as good for an invalid as a long season spent in Cuba. Often I think how grapes might ripen115 against my chimney. How my wife’s geraniums bud there! Bud in December. Her eggs, too—can’t keep them near the chimney, an account of the hatching. Ah, a warm heart has my chimney.
How often my wife was at me about that projected grand entrance-hall of hers, which was to be knocked clean through the chimney, from one end of the house to the other, and astonish all guests by its generous amplitude117. “But, wife,” said I, “the chimney—consider the chimney: if you demolish118 the foundation, what is to support the superstructure?” “Oh, that will rest on the second floor.” The truth is, women know next to nothing about the realities of architecture. However, my wife still talked of running her entries and partitions. She spent many long nights elaborating her plans; in imagination building her boasted hall through the chimney, as though its high mightiness119 were a mere spear of sorrel-top. At last, I gently reminded her that, little as she might fancy it, the chimney was a fact—a sober, substantial fact, which, in all her plannings, it would be well to take into full consideration. But this was not of much avail.
And here, respectfully craving120 her permission, I must say a few words about this enterprising wife of mine. Though in years nearly old as myself, in spirit she is young as my little sorrel mare122, Trigger, that threw me last fall. What is extraordinary, though she comes of a rheumatic family, she is straight as a pine, never has any aches; while for me with the sciatica, I am sometimes as crippled up as any old apple-tree. But she has not so much as a toothache. As for her hearing—let me enter the house in my dusty boots, and she away up in the attic123. And for her sight—Biddy, the housemaid, tells other people’s housemaids, that her mistress will spy a spot on the dresser straight through the pewter platter, put up on purpose to hide it. Her faculties124 are alert as her limbs and her senses. No danger of my spouse125 dying of torpor126. The longest night in the year I’ve known her lie awake, planning her campaign for the morrow. She is a natural projector127. The maxim128, “Whatever is, is right,” is not hers. Her maxim is, Whatever is, is wrong; and what is more, must be altered; and what is still more, must be altered right away. Dreadful maxim for the wife of a dozy130 old dreamer like me, who dote on seventh days as days of rest, and out of a sabbatical horror of industry, will, on a week day, go out of my road a quarter of a mile, to avoid the sight of a man at work.
That matches are made in heaven, may be, but my wife would have been just the wife for Peter the Great, or Peter the Piper. How she would have set in order that huge littered empire of the one, and with indefatigable131 painstaking132 picked the peck of pickled peppers for the other.
But the most wonderful thing is, my wife never thinks of her end. Her youthful incredulity, as to the plain theory, and still plainer fact of death, hardly seems Christian133. Advanced in years, as she knows she must be, my wife seems to think that she is to teem134 on, and be inexhaustible forever. She doesn’t believe in old age. At that strange promise in the plain of Mamre, my old wife, unlike old Abraham’s, would not have jeeringly135 laughed within herself.
Judge how to me, who, sitting in the comfortable shadow of my chimney, smoking my comfortable pipe, with ashes not unwelcome at my feet, and ashes not unwelcome all but in my mouth; and who am thus in a comfortable sort of not unwelcome, though, indeed, ashy enough way, reminded of the ultimate exhaustion136 even of the most fiery137 life; judge how to me this unwarrantable vitality138 in my wife must come, sometimes, it is true, with a moral and a calm, but oftener with a breeze and a ruffle139.
If the doctrine140 be true, that in wedlock141 contraries attract, by how cogent142 a fatality143 must I have been drawn144 to my wife! While spicily145 impatient of present and past, like a glass of ginger-beer she overflows146 with her schemes; and, with like energy as she puts down her foot, puts down her preserves and her pickles147, and lives with them in a continual future; or ever full of expectations both from time and space, is ever restless for newspapers, and ravenous148 for letters. Content with the years that are gone, taking no thought for the morrow, and looking for no new thing from any person or quarter whatever, I have not a single scheme or expectation on earth, save in unequal resistance of the undue149 encroachment150 of hers.
Old myself, I take to oldness in things; for that cause mainly loving old Montague, and old cheese, and old wine; and eschewing151 young people, hot rolls, new books, and early potatoes and very fond of my old claw-footed chair, and old club-footed Deacon White, my neighbor, and that still nigher old neighbor, my betwisted old grape-vine, that of a summer evening leans in his elbow for cosy153 company at my window-sill, while I, within doors, lean over mine to meet his; and above all, high above all, am fond of my high-mantled old chimney. But she, out of the infatuate juvenility154 of hers, takes to nothing but newness; for that cause mainly, loving new cider in autumn, and in spring, as if she were own daughter of Nebuchadnezzar, fairly raving121 after all sorts of salads and spinages, and more particularly green cucumbers (though all the time nature rebukes155 such unsuitable young hankerings in so elderly a person, by never permitting such things to agree with her), and has an itch65 after recently-discovered fine prospects156 (so no graveyard157 be in the background), and also after Sweden-borganism, and the Spirit Rapping philosophy, with other new views, alike in things natural and unnatural158; and immortally159 hopeful, is forever making new flower-beds even on the north side of the house where the bleak160 mountain wind would scarce allow the wiry weed called hard-hack to gain a thorough footing; and on the road-side sets out mere pipe-stems of young elms; though there is no hope of any shade from them, except over the ruins of her great granddaughter’s gravestones; and won’t wear caps, but plaits her gray hair; and takes the Ladies’ Magazine for the fashions; and always buys her new almanac a month before the new year; and rises at dawn; and to the warmest sunset turns a cold shoulder; and still goes on at odd hours with her new course of history, and her French, and her music; and likes a young company; and offers to ride young colts; and sets out young suckers in the orchard161; and has a spite against my elbowed old grape-vine, and my club-footed old neighbor, and my claw-footed old chair, and above all, high above all, would fain persecute162, until death, my high-mantled old chimney. By what perverse163 magic, I a thousand times think, does such a very autumnal old lady have such a very vernal young soul? When I would remonstrate164 at times, she spins round on me with, “Oh, don’t you grumble165, old man (she always calls me old man), it’s I, young I, that keep you from stagnating166.” Well, I suppose it is so. Yea, after all, these things are well ordered. My wife, as one of her poor relations, good soul, intimates, is the salt of the earth, and none the less the salt of my sea, which otherwise were unwholesome. She is its monsoon167, too, blowing a brisk gale168 over it, in the one steady direction of my chimney.
Not insensible of her superior energies, my wife has frequently made me propositions to take upon herself all the responsibilities of my affairs. She is desirous that, domestically, I should abdicate169; that, renouncing170 further rule, like the venerable Charles V, I should retire into some sort of monastery171. But indeed, the chimney excepted, I have little authority to lay down. By my wife’s ingenious application of the principle that certain things belong of right to female jurisdiction172, I find myself, through my easy compliances, insensibly stripped by degrees of one masculine prerogative173 after another. In a dream I go about my fields, a sort of lazy, happy-go-lucky, good-for-nothing, loafing old Lear. Only by some sudden revelation am I reminded who is over me; as year before last, one day seeing in one corner of the premises174 fresh deposits of mysterious boards and timbers, the oddity of the incident at length begat serious meditation175. “Wife,” said I, “whose boards and timbers are those I see near the orchard there? Do you know anything about them, wife? Who put them there? You know I do not like the neighbors to use my land that way, they should ask permission first.”
She regarded me with a pitying smile.
“Why, old man, don’t you know I am building a new barn? Didn’t you know that, old man?”
This is the poor old lady who was accusing me of tyrannizing over her.
To return now to the chimney. Upon being assured of the futility176 of her proposed hall, so long as the obstacle remained, for a time my wife was for a modified project. But I could never exactly comprehend it. As far as I could see through it, it seemed to involve the general idea of a sort of irregular archway, or elbowed tunnel, which was to penetrate84 the chimney at some convenient point under the staircase, and carefully avoiding dangerous contact with the fireplaces, and particularly steering177 clear of the great interior flue, was to conduct the enterprising traveler from the front door all the way into the dining-room in the remote rear of the mansion. Doubtless it was a bold stroke of genius, that plan of hers, and so was Nero’s when he schemed his grand canal through the Isthmus178 of Corinth. Nor will I take oath, that, had her project been accomplished179, then, by help of lights hung at judicious180 intervals181 through the tunnel, some Belzoni or other might have succeeded in future ages in penetrating182 through the masonry, and actually emerging into the dining-room, and once there, it would have been inhospitable treatment of such a traveler to have denied him a recruiting meal.
But my bustling183 wife did not restrict her objections, nor in the end confine her proposed alterations184 to the first floor. Her ambition was of the mounting order. She ascended185 with her schemes to the second floor, and so to the attic. Perhaps there was some small ground for her discontent with things as they were. The truth is, there was no regular passage-way up-stairs or down, unless we again except that little orchestra-gallery before mentioned. And all this was owing to the chimney, which my gamesome spouse seemed despitefully to regard as the bully186 of the house. On all its four sides, nearly all the chambers sidled up to the chimney for the benefit of a fireplace. The chimney would not go to them; they must needs go to it. The consequence was, almost every room, like a philosophical187 system, was in itself an entry, or passage-way to other rooms, and systems of rooms—a whole suite188 of entries, in fact. Going through the house, you seem to be forever going somewhere, and getting nowhere. It is like losing one’s self in the woods; round and round the chimney you go, and if you arrive at all, it is just where you started, and so you begin again, and again get nowhere. Indeed—though I say it not in the way of faultfinding at all—never was there so labyrinthine189 an abode. Guests will tarry with me several weeks and every now and then, be anew astonished at some unforseen apartment.
The puzzling nature of the mansion, resulting from the chimney, is peculiarly noticeable in the dining-room, which has no less than nine doors, opening in all directions, and into all sorts of places. A stranger for the first time entering this dining-room, and naturally taking no special heed190 at which door he entered, will, upon rising to depart, commit the strangest blunders. Such, for instance, as opening the first door that comes handy, and finding himself stealing up-stairs by the back passage. Shutting that, he will proceed to another, and be aghast at the cellar yawning at his feet. Trying a third, he surprises the housemaid at her work. In the end, no more relying on his own unaided efforts, he procures191 a trusty guide in some passing person, and in good time successfully emerges. Perhaps as curious a blunder as any, was that of a certain stylish young gentleman, a great exquisite192, in whose judicious eyes my daughter Anna had found especial favor. He called upon the young lady one evening, and found her alone in the dining-room at her needlework. He stayed rather late; and after abundance of superfine discourse193, all the while retaining his hat and cane194, made his profuse195 adieus, and with repeated graceful196 bows proceeded to depart, after fashion of courtiers from the Queen, and by so doing, opening a door at random197, with one hand placed behind, very effectually succeeded in backing himself into a dark pantry, where he carefully shut himself up, wondering there was no light in the entry. After several strange noises as of a cat among the crockery, he reappeared through the same door, looking uncommonly crestfallen198, and, with a deeply embarrassed air, requested my daughter to designate at which of the nine he should find exit. When the mischievous199 Anna told me the story, she said it was surprising how unaffected and matter-of-fact the young gentleman’s manner was after his reappearance. He was more candid200 than ever, to be sure; having inadvertently thrust his white kids into an open drawer of Havana sugar, under the impression, probably, that being what they call “a sweet fellow,” his route might possibly lie in that direction.
Another inconvenience resulting from the chimney is, the bewilderment of a guest in gaining his chamber98, many strange doors lying between him and it. To direct him by finger-posts would look rather queer; and just as queer in him to be knocking at every door on his route, like London’s city guest, the king, at Temple-Bar.
Now, of all these things and many, many more, my family continually complained. At last my wife came out with her sweeping201 proposition—in toto to abolish the chimney.
“What!” said I, “abolish the chimney? To take out the backbone202 of anything, wife, is a hazardous203 affair. Spines204 out of backs, and chimneys out of houses, are not to be taken like frosted lead pipes from the ground. Besides,” added I, “the chimney is the one grand permanence of this abode. If undisturbed by innovators, then in future ages, when all the house shall have crumbled205 from it, this chimney will still survive—a Bunker Hill monument. No, no, wife, I can’t abolish my backbone.”
So said I then. But who is sure of himself, especially an old man, with both wife and daughters ever at his elbow and ear? In time, I was persuaded to think a little better of it; in short, to take the matter into preliminary consideration. At length it came to pass that a master-mason—a rough sort of architect—one Mr. Scribe, was summoned to a conference. I formally introduced him to my chimney. A previous introduction from my wife had introduced him to myself. He had been not a little employed by that lady, in preparing plans and estimates for some of her extensive operations in drainage. Having, with much ado, exhorted206 from my spouse the promise that she would leave us to an unmolested survey, I began by leading Mr. Scribe down to the root of the matter, in the cellar. Lamp in hand, I descended207; for though up-stairs it was noon, below it was night.
We seemed in the pyramids; and I, with one hand holding my lamp over head, and with the other pointing out, in the obscurity, the hoar mass of the chimney, seemed some Arab guide, showing the cobwebbed mausoleum of the great god Apis.
“This is a most remarkable208 structure, sir,” said the master-mason, after long contemplating209 it in silence, “a most remarkable structure, sir.”
“Yes,” said I complacently210, “every one says so.”
“But large as it appears above the roof, I would not have inferred the magnitude of this foundation, sir,” eyeing it critically.
Then taking out his rule, he measured it.
“Twelve feet square; one hundred and forty-four square feet! Sir, this house would appear to have been built simply for the accommodation of your chimney.”
“Yes, my chimney and me. Tell me candidly211, now,” I added, “would you have such a famous chimney abolished?”
“I wouldn’t have it in a house of mine, sir, for a gift,” was the reply. “It’s a losing affair altogether, sir. Do you know, sir, that in retaining this chimney, you are losing, not only one hundred and forty-four square feet of good ground, but likewise a considerable interest upon a considerable principal?”
“How?”
“Look, sir!” said he, taking a bit of red chalk from his pocket, and figuring against a whitewashed213 wall, “twenty times eight is so and so; then forty-two times thirty—nine is so and so—ain’t it, sir? Well, add those together, and subtract this here, then that makes so and so,” still chalking away.
To be brief, after no small ciphering, Mr. Scribe informed me that my chimney contained, I am ashamed to say how many thousand and odd valuable bricks.
“No more,” said I fidgeting. “Pray now, let us have a look above.”
In that upper zone we made two more circumnavigations for the first and second floors. That done, we stood together at the foot of the stairway by the front door; my hand upon the knob, and Mr. Scribe hat in hand.
“Well, sir,” said he, a sort of feeling his way, and, to help himself, fumbling214 with his hat, “well, sir, I think it can be done.”
“What, pray, Mr. Scribe; WHAT can be done?”
“Your chimney, sir; it can without rashness be removed, I think.”
“I will think of it, too, Mr. Scribe,” said I, turning the knob and bowing him towards the open space without, “I will THINK of it, sir; it demands consideration; much obliged to ye; good morning, Mr. Scribe.”
“It is all arranged, then,” cried my wife with great glee, bursting from the nighest room.
“When will they begin?” demanded my daughter Julia.
“To-morrow?” asked Anna.
“Patience, patience, my dears,” said I, “such a big chimney is not to be abolished in a minute.”
Next morning it began again.
“You remember the chimney,” said my wife. “Wife,” said I, “it is never out of my house and never out of my mind.”
“But when is Mr. Scribe to begin to pull it down?” asked Anna.
“Not to-day, Anna,” said I.
“WHEN, then?” demanded Julia, in alarm.
Now, if this chimney of mine was, for size, a sort of belfry, for ding-donging at me about it, my wife and daughters were a sort of bells, always chiming together, or taking up each other’s melodies at every pause, my wife the key-clapper of all. A very sweet ringing, and pealing215, and chiming, I confess; but then, the most silvery of bells may, sometimes, dismally216 toll217, as well as merrily play. And as touching218 the subject in question, it became so now. Perceiving a strange relapse of opposition219 in me, wife and daughters began a soft and dirge-like, melancholy220 tolling221 over it.
At length my wife, getting much excited, declared to me, with pointed222 finger, that so long as that chimney stood, she should regard it as the monument of what she called my broken pledge. But finding this did not answer, the next day, she gave me to understand that either she or the chimney must quit the house.
Finding matters coming to such a pass, I and my pipe philosophized over them awhile, and finally concluded between us, that little as our hearts went with the plan, yet for peace’ sake, I might write out the chimney’s death-warrant, and, while my hand was in, scratch a note to Mr. Scribe.
Considering that I, and my chimney, and my pipe, from having been so much together, were three great cronies, the facility with which my pipe consented to a project so fatal to the goodliest of our trio; or rather, the way in which I and my pipe, in secret, conspired223 together, as it were, against our unsuspicious old comrade—this may seem rather strange, if not suggestive of sad reflections upon us two. But, indeed, we, sons of clay, that is my pipe and I, are no whit152 better than the rest. Far from us, indeed, to have volunteered the betrayal of our crony. We are of a peaceable nature, too. But that love of peace it was which made us false to a mutual100 friend, as soon as his cause demanded a vigorous vindication224. But, I rejoice to add, that better and braver thoughts soon returned, as will now briefly225 be set forth.
To my note, Mr. Scribe replied in person.
“I will do it for five hundred dollars,” said Mr. Scribe at last, again hat in hand.
“Very well, Mr. Scribe, I will think of it,” replied I, again bowing him to the door.
Not unvexed by this, for the second time, unexpected response, again he withdrew, and from my wife, and daughters again burst the old exclamations227.
The truth is, resolved how I would, at the last pinch I and my chimney could not be parted.
“So Holofernes will have his way, never mind whose heart breaks for it,” said my wife next morning, at breakfast, in that half-didactic, half-reproachful way of hers, which is harder to bear than her most energetic assault. Holofernes, too, is with her a pet name for any fell domestic despot. So, whenever, against her most ambitious innovations, those which saw me quite across the grain, I, as in the present instance, stand with however little steadfastness228 on the defence, she is sure to call me Holofernes, and ten to one takes the first opportunity to read aloud, with a suppressed emphasis, of an evening, the first newspaper paragraph about some tyrannic day-laborer, who, after being for many years the Caligula of his family, ends by beating his long-suffering spouse to death, with a garret door wrenched229 off its hinges, and then, pitching his little innocents out of the window, suicidally turns inward towards the broken wall scored with the butcher’s and baker’s bills, and so rushes headlong to his dreadful account.
Nevertheless, for a few days, not a little to my surprise, I heard no further reproaches. An intense calm pervaded230 my wife, but beneath which, as in the sea, there was no knowing what portentous231 movements might be going on. She frequently went abroad, and in a direction which I thought not unsuspicious; namely, in the direction of New Petra, a griffin-like house of wood and stucco, in the highest style of ornamental232 art, graced with four chimneys in the form of erect233 dragons spouting234 smoke from their nostrils235; the elegant modern residence of Mr. Scribe, which he had built for the purpose of a standing advertisement, not more of his taste as an architect, than his solidity as a master-mason.
At last, smoking my pipe one morning, I heard a rap at the door, and my wife, with an air unusually quiet for her brought me a note. As I have no correspondents except Solomon, with whom in his sentiments, at least, I entirely correspond, the note occasioned me some little surprise, which was not dismissed upon reading the following:—
NEW PETRA, April 1st.
Sir—During my last examination of your chimney, possibly you may have noted236 that I frequently applied237 my rule to it in a manner apparently238 unnecessary. Possibly, also, at the same time, you might have observed in me more or less of perplexity, to which, however, I refrained from giving any verbal expression.
I now feel it obligatory239 upon me to inform you of what was then but a dim suspicion, and as such would have been unwise to give utterance240 to, but which now, from various subsequent calculations assuming no little probability, it may be important that you should not remain in further ignorance of.
It is my solemn duty to warn you, sir, that there is architectural cause to conjecture241 that somewhere concealed242 in your chimney is a reserved space, hermetically closed, in short, a secret chamber, or rather closet. How long it has been there, it is for me impossible to say. What it contains is hid, with itself, in darkness. But probably a secret closet would not have been contrived243 except for some extraordinary object, whether for the concealment244 of treasure, or for what other purpose, may be left to those better acquainted with the history of the house to guess.
But enough: in making this disclosure, sir, my conscience is eased. Whatever step you choose to take upon it, is of course a matter of indifference245 to me; though, I confess, as respects the character of the closet, I cannot but share in a natural curiosity. Trusting that you may be guided aright, in determining whether it is Christian-like knowingly to reside in a house, hidden in which is a secret closet, I remain, with much respect,
Yours very humbly,
HIRAM SCRIBE.
My first thought upon reading this note was, not of the alleged246 mystery of manner to which, at the outset, it alluded-for none such had I at all observed in the master-mason during his surveys—but of my late kinsman247, Captain Julian Dacres, long a ship-master and merchant in the Indian trade, who, about thirty years ago, and at the ripe age of ninety, died a bachelor, and in this very house, which he had built. He was supposed to have retired248 into this country with a large fortune. But to the general surprise, after being at great cost in building himself this mansion, he settled down into a sedate249, reserved and inexpensive old age, which by the neighbors was thought all the better for his heirs: but lo! upon opening the will, his property was found to consist but of the house and grounds, and some ten thousand dollars in stocks; but the place, being found heavily mortgaged, was in consequence sold. Gossip had its day, and left the grass quietly to creep over the captain’s grave, where he still slumbers250 in a privacy as unmolested as if the billows of the Indian Ocean, instead of the billows of inland verdure, rolled over him. Still, I remembered long ago, hearing strange solutions whispered by the country people for the mystery involving his will, and, by reflex, himself; and that, too, as well in conscience as purse. But people who could circulate the report (which they did), that Captain Julian Dacres had, in his day, been a Borneo pirate, surely were not worthy of credence251 in their collateral252 notions. It is queer what wild whimsies253 of rumors will, like toadstools, spring up about any eccentric stranger, who settling down among a rustic254 population, keeps quietly to himself. With some, inoffensiveness would seem a prime cause of offense255. But what chiefly had led me to scout256 at these rumors, particularly as referring to concealed treasure, was the circumstance, that the stranger (the same who razeed the roof and the chimney) into whose hands the estate had passed on my kinsman’s death, was of that sort of character, that had there been the least ground for those reports, he would speedily have tested them, by tearing down and rummaging257 the walls.
Nevertheless, the note of Mr. Scribe, so strangely recalling the memory of my kinsman, very naturally chimed in with what had been mysterious, or at least unexplained, about him; vague flashings of ingots united in my mind with vague gleamings of skulls258. But the first cool thought soon dismissed such chimeras259; and, with a calm smile, I turned towards my wife, who, meantime, had been sitting nearby, impatient enough, I dare say, to know who could have taken it into his head to write me a letter.
“Well, old man,” said she, “who is it from, and what is it about?”
“Read it, wife,” said I, handing it.
Read it she did, and then—such an explosion! I will not pretend to describe her emotions, or repeat her expressions. Enough that my daughters were quickly called in to share the excitement. Although they had never dreamed of such a revelation as Mr. Scribe’s; yet upon the first suggestion they instinctively260 saw the extreme likelihood of it. In corroboration261, they cited first my kinsman, and second, my chimney; alleging262 that the profound mystery involving the former, and the equally profound masonry involving the latter, though both acknowledged facts, were alike preposterous263 on any other supposition than the secret closet.
But all this time I was quietly thinking to myself: Could it be hidden from me that my credulity in this instance would operate very favorably to a certain plan of theirs? How to get to the secret closet, or how to have any certainty about it at all, without making such fell work with my chimney as to render its set destruction superfluous264? That my wife wished to get rid of the chimney, it needed no reflection to show; and that Mr. Scribe, for all his pretended disinterestedness265, was not opposed to pocketing five hundred dollars by the operation, seemed equally evident. That my wife had, in secret, laid heads together with Mr. Scribe, I at present refrain from affirming. But when I consider her enmity against my chimney, and the steadiness with which at the last she is wont266 to carry out her schemes, if by hook or crook267 she can, especially after having been once baffled, why, I scarcely knew at what step of hers to be surprised.
In vain all protests. Next morning I went out into the road, where I had noticed a diabolical-looking old gander, that, for its doughty269 exploits in the way of scratching into forbidden enclosures, had been rewarded by its master with a portentous, four-pronged, wooden decoration, in the shape of a collar of the Order of the Garotte. This gander I cornered and rummaging out its stiffest quill270, plucked it, took it home, and making a stiff pen, inscribed271 the following stiff note:
CHIMNEY SIDE, April 2.
MR. SCRIBE
compliments, and beg leave to assure you, that we shall remain,
Very faithfully,
The same,
I AND MY CHIMNEY.
Of course, for this epistle we had to endure some pretty sharp raps. But having at last explicitly273 understood from me that Mr. Scribe’s note had not altered my mind one jot274, my wife, to move me, among other things said, that if she remembered aright, there was a statute275 placing the keeping in private of secret closets on the same unlawful footing with the keeping of gunpowder276. But it had no effect.
A few days after, my spouse changed her key.
It was nearly midnight, and all were in bed but ourselves, who sat up, one in each chimney-corner; she, needles in hand, indefatigably277 knitting a sock; I, pipe in mouth, indolently weaving my vapors278.
It was one of the first of the chill nights in autumn. There was a fire on the hearth, burning low. The air without was torpid279 and heavy; the wood, by an oversight280, of the sort called soggy.
“Do look at the chimney,” she began; “can’t you see that something must be in it?”
“Yes, wife. Truly there is smoke in the chimney, as in Mr. Scribe’s note.”
“Smoke? Yes, indeed, and in my eyes, too. How you two wicked old sinners do smoke!—this wicked old chimney and you.”
“Wife,” said I, “I and my chimney like to have a quiet smoke together, it is true, but we don’t like to be called names.”
“Now, dear old man,” said she, softening281 down, and a little shifting the subject, “when you think of that old kinsman of yours, you KNOW there must be a secret closet in this chimney.”
“Secret ash-hole, wife, why don’t you have it? Yes, I dare say there is a secret ash-hole in the chimney; for where do all the ashes go to that drop down the queer hole yonder?”
“I know where they go to; I’ve been there almost as many times as the cat.”
“What devil, wife, prompted you to crawl into the ash-hole? Don’t you know that St. Dunstan’s devil emerged from the ash-hole? You will get your death one of these days, exploring all about as you do. But supposing there be a secret closet, what then?”
“What then? why what should be in a secret closet but—”
“Dry bones, wife,” broke in I with a puff282, while the sociable283 old chimney broke in with another.
“There again! Oh, how this wretched old chimney smokes,” wiping her eyes with her handkerchief. “I’ve no doubt the reason it smokes so is, because that secret closet interferes284 with the flue. Do see, too, how the jambs here keep settling; and it’s down hill all the way from the door to this hearth. This horrid285 old chimney will fall on our heads yet; depend upon it, old man.”
“Yes, wife, I do depend on it; yes indeed, I place every dependence286 on my chimney. As for its settling, I like it. I, too, am settling, you know, in my gait. I and my chimney are settling together, and shall keep settling, too, till, as in a great feather-bed, we shall both have settled away clean out of sight. But this secret oven; I mean, secret closet of yours, wife; where exactly do you suppose that secret closet is?”
“That is for Mr. Scribe to say.”
“But suppose he cannot say exactly; what, then?”
“Why then he can prove, I am sure, that it must be somewhere or other in this horrid old chimney.”
“And if he can’t prove that; what, then?”
“Why then, old man,” with a stately air, “I shall say little more about it.”
“Agreed, wife,” returned I, knocking my pipe-bowl against the jamb, “and now, to-morrow, I will for a third time send for Mr. Scribe. Wife, the sciatica takes me; be so good as to put this pipe on the mantel.”
“If you get the step-ladder for me, I will. This shocking old chimney, this abominable287 old-fashioned old chimney’s mantels are so high, I can’t reach them.”
No opportunity, however trivial, was overlooked for a subordinate fling at the pile.
Here, by way of introduction, it should be mentioned, that besides the fireplaces all round it, the chimney was, in the most haphazard288 way, excavated289 on each floor for certain curious out-of-the-way cupboards and closets, of all sorts and sizes, clinging here and there, like nests in the crotches of some old oak. On the second floor these closets were by far the most irregular and numerous. And yet this should hardly have been so, since the theory of the chimney was, that it pyramidically diminished as it ascended. The abridgment290 of its square on the roof was obvious enough; and it was supposed that the reduction must be methodically graduated from bottom to top.
“Mr. Scribe,” said I when, the next day, with an eager aspect, that individual again came, “my object in sending for you this morning is, not to arrange for the demolition291 of my chimney, nor to have any particular conversation about it, but simply to allow you every reasonable facility for verifying, if you can, the conjecture communicated in your note.”
Though in secret not a little crestfallen, it may be, by my phlegmatic292 reception, so different from what he had looked for; with much apparent alacrity293 he commenced the survey; throwing open the cupboards on the first floor, and peering into the closets on the second; measuring one within, and then comparing that measurement with the measurement without. Removing the fireboards, he would gaze up the flues. But no sign of the hidden work yet.
Now, on the second floor the rooms were the most rambling294 conceivable. They, as it were, dovetailed into each other. They were of all shapes; not one mathematically square room among them all—a peculiarity295 which by the master-mason had not been unobserved. With a significant, not to say portentous expression, he took a circuit of the chimney, measuring the area of each room around it; then going down stairs, and out of doors, he measured the entire ground area; then compared the sum total of the areas of all the rooms on the second floor with the ground area; then, returning to me in no small excitement, announced that there was a difference of no less than two hundred and odd square feet—room enough, in all conscience, for a secret closet.
“But, Mr. Scribe,” said I, stroking my chin, “have you allowed for the walls, both main and sectional? They take up some space, you know.”
“Ah, I had forgotten that,” tapping his forehead; “but,” still ciphering on his paper, “that will not make up the deficiency.”
“But, Mr. Scribe, have you allowed for the recesses296 of so many fireplaces on a floor, and for the fire-walls, and the flues; in short, Mr. Scribe, have you allowed for the legitimate297 chimney itself—some one hundred and forty-four square feet or thereabouts, Mr. Scribe?”
“How unaccountable. That slipped my mind, too.”
“Did it, indeed, Mr. Scribe?”
He faltered298 a little, and burst forth with, “But we must now allow one hundred and forty-four square feet for the legitimate chimney. My position is, that within those undue limits the secret closet is contained.”
“Your survey is concluded, Mr. Scribe; be so good now as to lay your finger upon the exact part of the chimney wall where you believe this secret closet to be; or would a witch-hazel wand assist you, Mr. Scribe?”
“No, Sir, but a crowbar would,” he, with temper, rejoined.
Here, now, thought I to myself, the cat leaps out of the bag. I looked at him with a calm glance, under which he seemed somewhat uneasy. More than ever now I suspected a plot. I remembered what my wife had said about abiding300 by the decision of Mr. Scribe. In a bland301 way, I resolved to buy up the decision of Mr. Scribe.
“Sir,” said I, “really, I am much obliged to you for this survey. It has quite set my mind at rest. And no doubt you, too, Mr. Scribe, must feel much relieved. Sir,” I added, “you have made three visits to the chimney. With a business man, time is money. Here are fifty dollars, Mr. Scribe. Nay, take it. You have earned it. Your opinion is worth it. And by the way,”—as he modestly received the money—“have you any objections to give me a—a—little certificate—something, say, like a steamboat certificate, certifying302 that you, a competent surveyor, have surveyed my chimney, and found no reason to believe any unsoundness; in short, any—any secret closet in it. Would you be so kind, Mr. Scribe?”
“Here, here are pen and paper,” said I, with entire assurance.
Enough.
That evening I had the certificate framed and hung over the dining-room fireplace, trusting that the continual sight of it would forever put at rest at once the dreams and stratagems305 of my household.
But, no. Inveterately306 bent307 upon the extirpation308 of that noble old chimney, still to this day my wife goes about it, with my daughter Anna’s geological hammer, tapping the wall all over, and then holding her ear against it, as I have seen the physicians of life insurance companies tap a man’s chest, and then incline over for the echo. Sometimes of nights she almost frightens one, going about on this phantom309 errand, and still following the sepulchral310 response of the chimney, round and round, as if it were leading her to the threshold of the secret closet.
“How hollow it sounds,” she will hollowly cry. “Yes, I declare,” with an emphatic311 tap, “there is a secret closet here. Here, in this very spot. Hark! How hollow!”
“Psha! wife, of course it is hollow. Who ever heard of a solid chimney?” But nothing avails. And my daughters take after, not me, but their mother.
Sometimes all three abandon the theory of the secret closet and return to the genuine ground of attack—the unsightliness of so cumbrous a pile, with comments upon the great addition of room to be gained by its demolition, and the fine effect of the projected grand hall, and the convenience resulting from the collateral running in one direction and another of their various partitions. Not more ruthlessly did the Three Powers partition away poor Poland, than my wife and daughters would fain partition away my chimney.
But seeing that, despite all, I and my chimney still smoke our pipes, my wife reoccupies the ground of the secret closet, enlarging upon what wonders are there, and what a shame it is, not to seek it out and explore it.
“Wife,” said I, upon one of these occasions, “why speak more of that secret closet, when there before you hangs contrary testimony312 of a master mason, elected by yourself to decide. Besides, even if there were a secret closet, secret it should remain, and secret it shall. Yes, wife, here for once I must say my say. Infinite sad mischief313 has resulted from the profane314 bursting open of secret recesses. Though standing in the heart of this house, though hitherto we have all nestled about it, unsuspicious of aught hidden within, this chimney may or may not have a secret closet. But if it have, it is my kinsman’s. To break into that wall, would be to break into his breast. And that wall-breaking wish of Momus I account the wish of a churchrobbing gossip and knave315. Yes, wife, a vile45 eavesdropping316 varlet was Momus.”
The truth is, my wife, like all the rest of the world, cares not a fig212 for philosophical jabber318. In dearth319 of other philosophical companionship, I and my chimney have to smoke and philosophize together. And sitting up so late as we do at it, a mighty smoke it is that we two smoky old philosophers make.
But my spouse, who likes the smoke of my tobacco as little as she does that of the soot320, carries on her war against both. I live in continual dread129 lest, like the golden bowl, the pipes of me and my chimney shall yet be broken. To stay that mad project of my wife’s, naught321 answers. Or, rather, she herself is incessantly322 answering, incessantly besetting323 me with her terrible alacrity for improvement, which is a softer name for destruction. Scarce a day I do not find her with her tape-measure, measuring for her grand hall, while Anna holds a yardstick324 on one side, and Julia looks approvingly on from the other. Mysterious intimations appear in the nearest village paper, signed “Claude,” to the effect that a certain structure, standing on a certain hill, is a sad blemish325 to an otherwise lovely landscape. Anonymous326 letters arrive, threatening me with I know not what, unless I remove my chimney. Is it my wife, too, or who, that sets up the neighbors to badgering me on the same subject, and hinting to me that my chimney, like a huge elm, absorbs all moisture from my garden? At night, also, my wife will start as from sleep, professing327 to hear ghostly noises from the secret closet. Assailed328 on all sides, and in all ways, small peace have I and my chimney.
Were it not for the baggage, we would together pack up and remove from the country.
What narrow escapes have been ours! Once I found in a drawer a whole portfolio329 of plans and estimates. Another time, upon returning after a day’s absence, I discovered my wife standing before the chimney in earnest conversation with a person whom I at once recognized as a meddlesome330 architectural reformer, who, because he had no gift for putting up anything was ever intent upon pulling them down; in various parts of the country having prevailed upon half-witted old folks to destroy their old-fashioned houses, particularly the chimneys.
But worst of all was, that time I unexpectedly returned at early morning from a visit to the city, and upon approaching the house, narrowly escaped three brickbats which fell, from high aloft, at my feet. Glancing up, what was my horror to see three savages331, in blue jean overalls332 in the very act of commencing the long-threatened attack. Aye, indeed, thinking of those three brickbats, I and my chimney have had narrow escapes.
It is now some seven years since I have stirred from my home. My city friends all wonder why I don’t come to see them, as in former times. They think I am getting sour and unsocial. Some say that I have become a sort of mossy old misanthrope333, while all the time the fact is, I am simply standing guard over my mossy old chimney; for it is resolved between me and my chimney, that I and my chimney will never surrender.
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1
smokers
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| 吸烟者( smoker的名词复数 ) | |
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cardinal
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| n.(天主教的)红衣主教；adj.首要的，基本的 | |
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akin
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| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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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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vertical
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| adj.垂直的，顶点的，纵向的；n.垂直物，垂直的位置 | |
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meridian
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| adj.子午线的；全盛期的 | |
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salutes
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| n.致敬，欢迎，敬礼( salute的名词复数 )v.欢迎，致敬( salute的第三人称单数 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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beech
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| n.山毛榉；adj.山毛榉的 | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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demur
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| v．表示异议，反对 | |
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12
habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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13
rumors
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| n.传闻( rumor的名词复数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷v.传闻( rumor的第三人称单数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷 | |
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humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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15
shovel
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| n.铁锨，铲子，一铲之量；v.铲，铲出 | |
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tongs
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| n.钳；夹子 | |
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17
obese
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| adj.过度肥胖的，肥大的 | |
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18
expatiate
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| v.细说，详述 | |
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19
recess
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| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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21
afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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22
masonry
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| n.砖土建筑；砖石 | |
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23
treacherously
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| 背信弃义地； 背叛地； 靠不住地； 危险地 | |
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24
economize
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| v.节约，节省 | |
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25
stylish
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| adj.流行的，时髦的；漂亮的，气派的 | |
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26
abodes
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| 住所( abode的名词复数 )； 公寓； （在某地的）暂住； 逗留 | |
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27
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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28
uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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29
uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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30
spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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31
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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32
rivalry
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| n.竞争，竞赛，对抗 | |
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33
aspiration
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| n.志向，志趣抱负；渴望；(语)送气音；吸出 | |
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34
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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35
conceit
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| n.自负，自高自大 | |
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36
tickle
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| v.搔痒，胳肢；使高兴；发痒；n.搔痒，发痒 | |
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37
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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38
alder
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| n.赤杨树 | |
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39
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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40
lavish
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| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
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41
turnips
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| 芜青( turnip的名词复数 )； 芜菁块根； 芜菁甘蓝块根； 怀表 | |
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42
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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43
penurious
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| adj.贫困的 | |
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44
supervisors
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| n.监督者，管理者( supervisor的名词复数 ) | |
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45
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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46
proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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47
grudges
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| 不满，怨恨，妒忌( grudge的名词复数 ) | |
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48
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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49
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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50
binding
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| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
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51
degenerate
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| v.退步，堕落；adj.退步的，堕落的；n.堕落者 | |
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52
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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53
truncated
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| adj.切去顶端的，缩短了的，被删节的v.截面的( truncate的过去式和过去分词 )；截头的；缩短了的；截去顶端或末端 | |
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54
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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55
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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56
razed
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| v.彻底摧毁，将…夷为平地( raze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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57
observatory
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| n.天文台，气象台，瞭望台，观测台 | |
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58
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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59
abate
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| vi.(风势，疼痛等)减弱，减轻，减退 | |
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60
posterity
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| n.后裔，子孙，后代 | |
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61
inordinately
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| adv.无度地，非常地 | |
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62
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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63
unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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64
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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65
itch
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| n.痒，渴望，疥癣；vi.发痒，渴望 | |
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66
surgical
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| adj.外科的，外科医生的，手术上的 | |
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67
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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68
acclimate
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| v.使服水土，使习惯于新环境 | |
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69
blotchy
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| adj.有斑点的，有污渍的；斑污 | |
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70
measles
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| n.麻疹，风疹，包虫病，痧子 | |
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71
ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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72
crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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73
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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74
awry
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| adj.扭曲的，错的 | |
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75
spaciousness
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| n.宽敞 | |
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76
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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77
appropriation
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| n.拨款，批准支出 | |
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79
atlas
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| n.地图册，图表集 | |
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80
fabulous
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| adj.极好的；极为巨大的；寓言中的，传说中的 | |
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81
attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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82
umbrageous
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| adj.多荫的 | |
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83
vaulted
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| adj.拱状的 | |
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84
penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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85
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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86
pelted
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| （连续地）投掷( pelt的过去式和过去分词 )； 连续抨击； 攻击； 剥去…的皮 | |
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87
plying
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的现在分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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88
vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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89
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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90
gibes
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| vi.嘲笑，嘲弄（gibe的第三人称单数形式） | |
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91
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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92
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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93
autocrat
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| n.独裁者；专横的人 | |
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94
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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computed
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| adj.[医]计算的，使用计算机的v.计算，估算( compute的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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96
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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97
congregate
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| v.(使)集合，聚集 | |
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98
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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99
chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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100
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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101
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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102
inmates
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| n.囚犯( inmate的名词复数 ) | |
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103
muskets
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| n.火枪，（尤指）滑膛枪( musket的名词复数 ) | |
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104
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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105
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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106
avers
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| v.断言( aver的第三人称单数 )；证实；证明…属实；作为事实提出 | |
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107
attaining
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的现在分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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108
solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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109
tapering
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| adj.尖端细的 | |
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110
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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111
minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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112
ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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113
nurturing
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| 养育( nurture的现在分词 )； 培育； 滋长； 助长 | |
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114
ripening
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| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的现在分词 )；熟化；熟成 | |
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115
ripen
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| vt.使成熟；vi.成熟 | |
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116
distilled
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| adj.由蒸馏得来的v.蒸馏( distil的过去式和过去分词 )；从…提取精华 | |
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117
amplitude
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| n.广大；充足；振幅 | |
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118
demolish
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| v.拆毁(建筑物等)，推翻(计划、制度等) | |
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119
mightiness
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| n.强大 | |
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120
craving
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| n.渴望,热望 | |
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121
raving
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| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
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122
mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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123
attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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124
faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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125
spouse
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| n.配偶(指夫或妻) | |
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126
torpor
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| n.迟钝；麻木；（动物的）冬眠 | |
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127
projector
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| n.投影机，放映机，幻灯机 | |
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128
maxim
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| n.格言，箴言 | |
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129
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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130
dozy
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| adj.困倦的；愚笨的 | |
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131
indefatigable
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| adj.不知疲倦的，不屈不挠的 | |
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132
painstaking
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| adj.苦干的；艰苦的，费力的，刻苦的 | |
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133
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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134
teem
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| vi.(with)充满，多产 | |
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135
jeeringly
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| adv.嘲弄地 | |
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136
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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137
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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138
vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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139
ruffle
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| v.弄皱，弄乱；激怒，扰乱；n.褶裥饰边 | |
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140
doctrine
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| n.教义；主义；学说 | |
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141
wedlock
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| n.婚姻，已婚状态 | |
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142
cogent
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| adj.强有力的，有说服力的 | |
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143
fatality
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| n.不幸，灾祸，天命 | |
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144
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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145
spicily
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| adv.香地；讽刺地；痛快地；下流地 | |
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146
overflows
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| v.溢出，淹没( overflow的第三人称单数 )；充满；挤满了人；扩展出界，过度延伸 | |
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147
pickles
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| n.腌菜( pickle的名词复数 )；处于困境；遇到麻烦；菜酱 | |
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148
ravenous
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| adj.极饿的，贪婪的 | |
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149
undue
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| adj.过分的；不适当的；未到期的 | |
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150
encroachment
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| n.侵入，蚕食 | |
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151
eschewing
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| v.（尤指为道德或实际理由而）习惯性避开，回避( eschew的现在分词 ) | |
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152
whit
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| n.一点，丝毫 | |
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153
cosy
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| adj.温暖而舒适的，安逸的 | |
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154
juvenility
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| n.年轻，不成熟 | |
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155
rebukes
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| 责难或指责( rebuke的第三人称单数 ) | |
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156
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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157
graveyard
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| n.坟场 | |
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158
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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159
immortally
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| 不朽地，永世地，无限地 | |
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160
bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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161
orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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162
persecute
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| vt.迫害，虐待；纠缠，骚扰 | |
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163
perverse
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| adj.刚愎的；坚持错误的，行为反常的 | |
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164
remonstrate
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| v.抗议，规劝 | |
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165
grumble
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| vi.抱怨；咕哝；n.抱怨，牢骚；咕哝，隆隆声 | |
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166
stagnating
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| v.停滞，不流动，不发展( stagnate的现在分词 ) | |
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167
monsoon
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| n.季雨，季风，大雨 | |
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168
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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169
abdicate
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| v.让位，辞职，放弃 | |
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170
renouncing
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| v.声明放弃( renounce的现在分词 )；宣布放弃；宣布与…决裂；宣布摒弃 | |
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171
monastery
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| n.修道院，僧院，寺院 | |
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172
jurisdiction
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| n.司法权，审判权，管辖权，控制权 | |
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173
prerogative
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| n.特权 | |
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174
premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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175
meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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176
futility
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| n.无用 | |
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177
steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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178
isthmus
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| n.地峡 | |
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179
accomplished
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|
| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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180
judicious
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| adj.明智的，明断的，能作出明智决定的 | |
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181
intervals
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|
| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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182
penetrating
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|
| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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183
bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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184
alterations
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| n.改动( alteration的名词复数 )；更改；变化；改变 | |
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185
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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186
bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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187
philosophical
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|
| adj.哲学家的，哲学上的，达观的 | |
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188
suite
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| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
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189
labyrinthine
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| adj.如迷宫的；复杂的 | |
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190
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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191
procures
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的第三人称单数 )；拉皮条 | |
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192
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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193
discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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194
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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195
profuse
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|
| adj.很多的，大量的，极其丰富的 | |
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196
graceful
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|
| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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197
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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198
crestfallen
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| adj. 挫败的，失望的，沮丧的 | |
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199
mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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200
candid
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| adj.公正的，正直的；坦率的 | |
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201
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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202
backbone
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| n.脊骨，脊柱，骨干；刚毅，骨气 | |
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203
hazardous
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| adj.(有)危险的，冒险的；碰运气的 | |
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204
spines
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| n.脊柱( spine的名词复数 )；脊椎；（动植物的）刺；书脊 | |
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205
crumbled
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| （把…）弄碎， （使）碎成细屑( crumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 衰落； 坍塌； 损坏 | |
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206
exhorted
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| v.劝告，劝说( exhort的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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207
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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208
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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209
contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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210
complacently
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| adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
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211
candidly
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| adv.坦率地，直率而诚恳地 | |
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212
fig
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| n.无花果(树) | |
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213
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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214
fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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215
pealing
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| v.（使）（钟等）鸣响，（雷等）发出隆隆声( peal的现在分词 ) | |
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216
dismally
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| adv.阴暗地，沉闷地 | |
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217
toll
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| n.过路(桥)费；损失，伤亡人数；v.敲(钟) | |
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218
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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219
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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220
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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221
tolling
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| [财]来料加工 | |
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222
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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223
conspired
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| 密谋( conspire的过去式和过去分词 )； 搞阴谋； （事件等）巧合； 共同导致 | |
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224
vindication
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| n.洗冤，证实 | |
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225
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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226
pecuniary
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| adj.金钱的；金钱上的 | |
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227
exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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228
steadfastness
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| n.坚定，稳当 | |
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229
wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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230
pervaded
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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231
portentous
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| adj.不祥的，可怕的，装腔作势的 | |
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232
ornamental
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| adj.装饰的；作装饰用的；n.装饰品；观赏植物 | |
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233
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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234
spouting
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| n.水落管系统v.（指液体）喷出( spout的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地讲；喋喋不休地说；喷水 | |
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235
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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236
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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237
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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238
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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239
obligatory
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| adj.强制性的，义务的，必须的 | |
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240
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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241
conjecture
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| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
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242
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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243
contrived
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|
| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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244
concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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245
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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246
alleged
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| a.被指控的，嫌疑的 | |
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247
kinsman
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| n.男亲属 | |
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248
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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249
sedate
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| adj.沉着的，镇静的，安静的 | |
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250
slumbers
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| 睡眠，安眠( slumber的名词复数 ) | |
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251
credence
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| n.信用，祭器台，供桌，凭证 | |
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252
collateral
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| adj.平行的；旁系的；n.担保品 | |
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253
whimsies
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| n.怪念头( whimsy的名词复数 )；异想天开；怪脾气；与众不同的幽默感 | |
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254
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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255
offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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256
scout
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| n.童子军，侦察员；v.侦察，搜索 | |
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257
rummaging
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| 翻找，搜寻( rummage的现在分词 )； 海关检查 | |
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258
skulls
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| 颅骨( skull的名词复数 )； 脑袋； 脑子； 脑瓜 | |
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259
chimeras
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| n.（由几种动物的各部分构成的）假想的怪兽( chimera的名词复数 )；不可能实现的想法；幻想；妄想 | |
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260
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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261
corroboration
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| n.进一步的证实，进一步的证据 | |
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262
alleging
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| 断言，宣称，辩解( allege的现在分词 ) | |
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263
preposterous
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| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
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264
superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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265
disinterestedness
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266
wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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267
crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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268
budge
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| v.移动一点儿；改变立场 | |
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269
doughty
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| adj.勇猛的，坚强的 | |
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270
quill
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| n.羽毛管；v.给（织物或衣服）作皱褶 | |
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271
inscribed
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
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272
joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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273
explicitly
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| ad.明确地，显然地 | |
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274
jot
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| n.少量；vi.草草记下；vt.匆匆写下 | |
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275
statute
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| n.成文法，法令，法规；章程，规则，条例 | |
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276
gunpowder
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| n.火药 | |
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277
indefatigably
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| adv.不厌倦地，不屈不挠地 | |
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278
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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279
torpid
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| adj.麻痹的，麻木的，迟钝的 | |
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280
oversight
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| n.勘漏，失察，疏忽 | |
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281
softening
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| 变软，软化 | |
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282
puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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283
sociable
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| adj.好交际的，友好的，合群的 | |
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284
interferes
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| vi. 妨碍，冲突，干涉 | |
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285
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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286
dependence
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| n.依靠，依赖；信任，信赖；隶属 | |
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287
abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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288
haphazard
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| adj.无计划的，随意的，杂乱无章的 | |
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289
excavated
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| v.挖掘( excavate的过去式和过去分词 )；开凿；挖出；发掘 | |
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290
abridgment
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| n.删节，节本 | |
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291
demolition
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| n.破坏,毁坏,毁坏之遗迹 | |
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292
phlegmatic
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| adj.冷静的，冷淡的，冷漠的，无活力的 | |
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293
alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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294
rambling
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| adj.[建]凌乱的，杂乱的 | |
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295
peculiarity
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| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
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296
recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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297
legitimate
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| adj.合法的，合理的，合乎逻辑的；v.使合法 | |
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298
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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299
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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300
abiding
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| adj.永久的，持久的，不变的 | |
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301
bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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302
certifying
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| （尤指书面）证明( certify的现在分词 )； 发证书给…； 证明（某人）患有精神病； 颁发（或授予）专业合格证书 | |
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303
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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304
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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305
stratagems
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| n.诡计，计谋( stratagem的名词复数 )；花招 | |
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306
inveterately
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| adv.根深蒂固地，积习地 | |
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307
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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308
extirpation
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| n.消灭，根除，毁灭；摘除 | |
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309
phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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310
sepulchral
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| adj.坟墓的，阴深的 | |
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311
emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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312
testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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313
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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314
profane
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| adj.亵神的，亵渎的；vt.亵渎，玷污 | |
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315
knave
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| n.流氓；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
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316
eavesdropping
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| n. 偷听 | |
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317
mumps
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| n.腮腺炎 | |
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318
jabber
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| v.快而不清楚地说；n.吱吱喳喳 | |
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319
dearth
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| n.缺乏，粮食不足，饥谨 | |
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320
soot
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| n.煤烟，烟尘；vt.熏以煤烟 | |
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321
naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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322
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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323
besetting
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| adj.不断攻击的v.困扰( beset的现在分词 )；不断围攻；镶；嵌 | |
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324
yardstick
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| n.计算标准，尺度；评价标准 | |
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325
blemish
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| v.损害；玷污；瑕疵，缺点 | |
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326
anonymous
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| adj.无名的；匿名的；无特色的 | |
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327
professing
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| 声称( profess的现在分词 )； 宣称； 公开表明； 信奉 | |
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328
assailed
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| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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329
portfolio
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| n.公事包；文件夹；大臣及部长职位 | |
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330
meddlesome
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| adj.爱管闲事的 | |
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331
savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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332
overalls
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| n.（复）工装裤；长罩衣 | |
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333
misanthrope
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| n.恨人类的人；厌世者 | |
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