W
hoever has made a voyage up the Hudson must remember the Kaatskill mountains. They are a dismembered branch of the great Appalachian family, and are seen away to the west of the river, swelling2 up to a noble height, and lording it over the surrounding country. Every change of season, every change of weather, indeed, every hour of the day, produces some change in the magical hues3 and shapes of these mountains, and they are regarded by all the good wives, far and near, as perfect barometers4. When the weather is fair and settled, they are clothed in blue and purple, and print their bold outlines on the clear evening sky; but sometimes, when the rest of the landscape is cloudless, they will gather a hood5 of grey vapours about their summits, which, in the last rays of the setting sun, will glow and light up like a crown of glory.
At the foot of these fairy mountains, the voyager may have descried6 the light smoke curling up from a village, whose shingle-roofs gleam among the trees, just where the blue tints7 of the upland melt away into the fresh green of the nearer landscape. It is a little village, of great antiquity8, having been founded by some of the Dutch colonists9 in the early times of the province, just about the beginning of the government of the good Peter Stuyvesant (may he rest in peace!), and there were some 4 of the houses of the original settlers standing10 within a few years, built of small yellow bricks brought from Holland, having latticed windows and gable fronts, surmounted11 with weathercocks.
In that same village and in one of these very houses (which, to tell the precise truth, was sadly time-worn and weather-beaten), there lived, many years since, while the country was yet a province of Great Britain, a simple, good-natured fellow, of the name of Rip Van Winkle. He was a descendant of the Van Winkles who figured so gallantly13 in the chivalrous14 days of Peter Stuyvesant, and accompanied him to the siege of Fort Christina. He inherited, however, but little of the martial15 character of his ancestors. I have observed that he was a simple, good-natured man; he was, moreover, a kind neighbour, and an obedient, hen-pecked husband. Indeed, to the latter circumstance might be owing that meekness16 of spirit which gained him such universal popularity; for those men are apt to be obsequious17 and conciliating abroad, who are under the discipline of shrews at home. Their tempers, doubtless, are rendered pliant18 and malleable19 in the fiery20 furnace of domestic tribulation21; and a curtain-lecture is worth all the sermons in the world for teaching the virtues22 of patience and long-suffering. A termagant wife may, therefore, in some respects, be considered a tolerable blessing23; and if so, Rip Van Winkle was thrice blessed.
Certain it is that he was a great favourite among all the good wives of the village, who, as usual with the amiable24 sex, took his part in all family squabbles; and never failed, whenever they talked those matters over in their evening gossipings, to lay all the blame on Dame25 Van Winkle. The children of the village, too, would shout with joy whenever he approached. He assisted at their sports, made their playthings, taught them to fly kites and 5 shoot marbles, and told them long stories of ghosts, witches, and Indians. Whenever he went dodging26 about the village, he was surrounded by a troop of them, hanging on his skirts, clambering on his back, and playing a thousand tricks on him with impunity27; and not a dog would bark at him throughout the neighbourhood.
The great error in Rip’s composition was an insuperable aversion to all kinds of profitable labour. It could not be for want of assiduity or perseverance28; for he would sit on a wet rock, with a rod as long and heavy as a Tartar’s lance, and fish all day without a murmur30, even though he should not be encouraged by a single nibble31. He would carry a fowling-piece on his shoulder for hours together, trudging32 through woods and swamps, and up hill and down dale, to shoot a few squirrels or wild pigeons. He would never refuse to assist a neighbour even in the roughest toil33, and was a foremost man in all country frolics for husking Indian corn, 6 or building stone fences; the women of the village, too, used to employ him to run their errands, and to do such little odd jobs as their less obliging husbands would not do for them. In a word, Rip was ready to attend to anybody’s business but his own; but as to doing family duty, and keeping his farm in order, he found it impossible.
In fact, he declared it was of no use to work on his farm; it was the most pestilent little piece of ground in the whole country; everything about it went wrong, in spite of him. His fences were continually falling to pieces; his cow would either go astray, or get among the cabbages; weeds were sure to grow quicker in his fields than anywhere else; the rain always made a point of setting in just as he had some outdoor work to do; so that though his patrimonial34 estate had dwindled35 away under his management, acre by acre, until there was little more left than a mere36 patch of Indian corn and potatoes, yet it was the worst-conditioned farm in the neighbourhood.
His children, too, were as ragged37 and wild as if they belonged to nobody. His son Rip, an urchin38 begotten39 in his own likeness40, promised to inherit the habits, with the old clothes, of his father. He was generally seen trooping like a colt at his mother’s heels, equipped in a pair of his father’s cast-off galligaskins, which he had much ado to hold up with one hand, as a fine lady does her train in bad weather.
Rip Van Winkle, however, was one of those happy mortals, of foolish, well-oiled dispositions41, who take the world easy, eat white bread or brown, whichever can be got with least thought or trouble, and would rather starve on a penny than work for a pound. If left to himself, he would have whistled life away in perfect contentment; but his wife kept continually dinning43 in his ears 7 about his idleness, his carelessness, and the ruin he was bringing on his family. Morning, noon, and night, her tongue was incessantly44 going, and everything he said or did was sure to produce a torrent45 of household eloquence46. Rip had but one way of replying to all lectures of the kind, and that, by frequent use, had grown into a habit. He shrugged47 his shoulders, shook his head, cast up his eyes, but said nothing. This, however, always provoked a fresh volley from his wife; so that he was fain to draw off his forces, and take to the outside of the house—the only side which, in truth, belongs to a hen-pecked husband.
Rip’s sole domestic adherent48 was his dog Wolf, who was as much hen-pecked as his master; for Dame Van Winkle regarded them as companions in idleness, and even looked upon Wolf with an evil eye, as the cause of his master’s going so often astray. True it is, in all points of spirit befitting an honourable49 dog, he was as courageous50 an animal as ever scoured51 the woods—but what courage can withstand the evil-doing and all-besetting terrors of a woman’s tongue? The moment Wolf entered the house his chest fell, his tail drooped52 to the ground or curled between his legs, he sneaked53 about with a gallows54 air, casting many a sidelong glance at Dame Van Winkle, and at the least flourish of a broomstick or ladle he would fly to the door with yelping55 precipitation.
Times grew worse and worse with Rip Van Winkle as years of matrimony rolled on; a tart29 temper never mellows56 with age, and a sharp tongue is the only edged tool that grows keener with constant use. For a long while he used to console himself, when driven from home, by frequenting a kind of perpetual club of the sages58, philosophers and other idle personages of the village, which held its sessions on a bench before a small inn, designated by a rubicund8 portrait of His Majesty59 George the Third. Here they used to sit in the shade through a long, lazy summer’s day, talking listlessly over village gossip, or telling endless, sleepy stories about nothing. But it would have been worth any statesman’s money to have heard the profound discussions that sometimes took place, when by chance an old newspaper fell into their hands from some passing traveller. How solemnly they would listen to the contents, as drawled out by Derrick Van Bummel, the schoolmaster, a dapper, learned little man, who was not to be daunted60 by the most gigantic word in the dictionary; and how sagely61 they would deliberate upon public events some months after they had taken place.
The opinions of this junto62 were completely controlled by Nicholas Vedder, a patriarch of the village, and landlord of the inn, at the door of which he took his seat from morning till night, just moving sufficiently63 to avoid the sun and keep in the shade of a large tree; so that the neighbours could tell the hour by his movements as accurately64 as by a sun-dial. It is true he was rarely heard to speak, but smoked his pipe incessantly. His adherents65, however (for every great man has his adherents), perfectly66 understood him, and knew how to gather his opinions. When anything that was read or related displeased67 him, he was observed to smoke his9 pipe vehemently68, and to send forth69 short, frequent, and angry puffs70; but when pleased, he would inhale71 the smoke slowly and tranquilly72, and emit it in light and placid73 clouds; and sometimes, taking the pipe from his mouth, and letting the fragrant74 vapour curl about his nose, would gravely nod his head in token of perfect approbation75.
From even this stronghold the unlucky Rip was at length routed by his termagant wife, who would suddenly break in upon the tranquillity76 of the assemblage and call the members all to naught77; nor was that august personage, Nicholas Vedder himself, sacred from the daring tongue of this terrible virago78, who charged him outright79 with encouraging her husband in habits of idleness.
Poor Rip was at last reduced almost to despair; and his only alternative, to escape from the labour of the farm and clamour of his wife, was to take gun in hand and stroll away into the woods. Here he would sometimes seat himself at the foot of a tree, and share the contents of his wallet with Wolf, with whom he sympathised as a fellow-sufferer in persecution80. “Poor Wolf,” he would say, “thy mistress leads thee a dog’s life of it; but never mind, my lad, whilst I live thou shalt never want a friend to stand by thee!” Wolf would wag his tail, look wistfully in his master’s face; and, if dogs can feel pity, I verily believe he reciprocated81 the sentiment with all his heart.
In a long ramble82 of the kind on a fine autumnal day, Rip had unconsciously scrambled83 to one of the highest parts of the Kaatskill Mountains. He was after his favourite sport of squirrel shooting, and the still solitudes86 had echoed and re-echoed with the reports of his gun. Panting and fatigued87, he threw himself, late in the afternoon, on a green knoll88, covered with mountain10 herbage, that crowned the brow of a precipice89. From an opening between the trees he could overlook all the lower country for many a mile of rich woodland. He saw at a distance the lordly Hudson, far, far below him, moving on its silent but majestic90 course, with the reflection of a purple cloud, or the sail of a lagging bark, here and there sleeping on its glassy bosom91, and at last losing itself in the blue highlands.
On the other side he looked down into a deep mountain glen, wild, lonely, and shagged, the bottom filled with fragments from the impending92 cliffs, and scarcely lighted by the reflected rays of the setting sun. For some time Rip lay musing93 on this scene; evening was gradually advancing; the mountains began to throw their long blue shadows over the valleys; he saw that it would be dark long before he could reach the village, and he heaved a heavy sigh when he thought of encountering the terrors of Dame Van Winkle.
As he was about to descend12, he heard a voice from a distance, hallooing: “Rip Van Winkle! Rip Van Winkle!” He looked round, but could see nothing but a crow winging its solitary94 flight across the mountain. He thought his fancy must have deceived him, and turned again to descend, when he heard the same cry ring through the still evening air: “Rip Van Winkle! Rip Van Winkle!” At the same time Wolf bristled95 up his back, and giving a low growl96, skulked97 to his master’s side, looking fearfully down into the glen. Rip now felt a vague apprehension98 stealing over him; he looked anxiously in the same direction, and perceived a strange figure slowly toiling99 up the rocks, and bending under the weight of something he carried on his back. He was surprised to see any human being in this lonely and unfrequented place; but supposing it to be some one of the 11 neighbourhood in need of his assistance, he hastened down to yield it.
On nearer approach he was still more surprised at the singularity of the stranger’s appearance. He was a short, square-built old fellow, with thick bushy hair, and a grizzled beard. His dress was of the antique Dutch fashion: a cloth jerkin strapped100 round the waist—several pair of breeches, the outer one of ample volume, decorated with rows of buttons down the sides, and bunches at the knees. He bore on his shoulder a stout101 keg, that seemed full of liquor, and made signs for Rip to approach and assist him with the load. Though rather shy and distrustful of his new12 acquaintance, Rip complied with his usual alacrity104; and mutually relieving one another, they clambered up a narrow gully, apparently105 the dry bed of a mountain torrent. As they ascended106, Rip every now and then heard long, rolling peals107, like distant thunder, that seemed to issue out of a deep ravine, or rather cleft108, between lofty rocks, toward which their ragged path conducted. He paused for an instant, but supposing it to be the muttering of one of those transient thunder-showers which often take place in mountain heights, he proceeded. Passing through the ravine, they came to a hollow, like a small amphitheatre, surrounded by perpendicular109 precipices110, over the brinks of which impending trees shot their branches, so that you only caught glimpses of the azure111 sky and the bright evening cloud. During the whole time Rip and his companion had laboured on in silence; for though the former marvelled112 greatly what could be the object of carrying a keg of liquor up this wild mountain, yet there was something strange and incomprehensible about the unknown, that inspired awe113 and checked familiarity.
On entering the amphitheatre, new objects of wonder presented themselves. On a level spot in the centre was a company of odd-looking personages playing at ninepins. They were dressed in a quaint103, outlandish fashion; some wore short doublets, others jerkins, with long knives in their belts, and most of them had enormous breeches, of similar style with that of the guide’s. Their visages, too, were peculiar114; one had a large beard, broad face, and small piggish eyes; the face of another seemed to consist 13 entirely115 of nose, and was surmounted by a white sugar-loaf hat, set off with a little red cock’s tail. They all had beards, of various shapes and colours. There was one who seemed to be the commander. He was a stout old gentleman, with a weather-beaten countenance116; he wore a laced doublet, broad belt and hanger117, high-crowned hat and feather, red stockings, and high-heeled shoes, with roses in them. The whole group reminded Rip of the figures in an old Flemish painting, in the parlour of Dominie Van Shaick, the village parson, and which had been brought over from Holland at the time of the settlement.
What seemed particularly odd to Rip was, that these folks were evidently amusing themselves, yet they maintained the gravest faces, the most mysterious silence, and were, withal, the most melancholy118 party of pleasure he had ever witnessed. Nothing interrupted the stillness of the scene but the noise of the balls, which, whenever they were rolled, echoed along the mountains like rumbling119 peals of thunder.
As Rip and his companion approached them, they suddenly desisted from their play, and stared at him with such fixed120,14 statue-like gaze, and such strange, uncouth121, lack-lustre countenances122, that his heart turned within him, and his knees smote123 together. His companion now emptied the contents of the keg into large flagons, and made signs to him to wait upon the company. He obeyed with fear and trembling; they quaffed124 the liquor in profound silence, and then returned to their game.
By degrees Rip’s awe and apprehension subsided125. He even ventured, when no eye was fixed upon him, to taste the beverage126, which he found had much of the flavour of excellent Hollands. He was naturally a thirsty soul, and was soon tempted127 to repeat the draught128. One taste provoked another; and he reiterated129 his visits to the flagon so often that at length his senses were overpowered, his eyes swam in his head, his head gradually declined, and he fell into a deep sleep.
On waking, he found himself on the green knoll whence he had first seen the old man of the glen. He rubbed his eyes—it was a bright sunny morning. The birds were hopping130 and twittering among the bushes, and the eagle was wheeling aloft, and breasting the pure mountain breeze. “Surely,” thought Rip, “I have not slept here all night.” He recalled the occurrences before he fell asleep. The strange man with a keg of liquor—the mountain ravine—the wild retreat among the rocks—the woebegone party at ninepins—the flagon—“Oh! that flagon! that wicked flagon!” thought Rip,—“what excuse shall I make to Dame Van Winkle?”
He looked round for his gun, but in place of the clean, well-oiled fowling-piece, he found an old firelock lying by him, the barrel incrusted with rust102, the lock falling off, and the stock worm-eaten. He now suspected that the grave roysterers of the mountains had put a trick upon him, and, having dosed him with liquor, 15 had robbed him of his gun. Wolf, too, had disappeared, but he might have strayed away after a squirrel or partridge. He whistled after him, and shouted his name, but all in vain; the echoes repeated his whistle and shout, but no dog was to be seen.
He determined131 to revisit the scene of the last evening’s gambol132, and if he met with any of the party, to demand his dog and gun. As he rose to walk, he found himself stiff in the joints133, and wanting in his usual activity. “These mountain beds do not agree with me,” thought Rip, “and if this frolic should lay me up with a fit of the rheumatism134, I shall have a blessed time with Dame Van Winkle.” With some difficulty he got down into the glen: he found the gully up which he and his companion had ascended the preceding evening; but to his astonishment135 a mountain stream was now foaming137 down it, leaping from rock to rock, and filling the glen with babbling138 murmurs139. He, however, made shift to scramble84 up its sides, working his toilsome way through thickets140 of birch, sassafras, and witch-hazel, and sometimes tripped up or entangled141 by the wild grape-vines that twisted their coils or tendrils from tree to tree, and spread a kind of network in his path.
At length he reached to where the ravine had opened through the cliffs to the amphitheatre; but no traces of such opening remained. The rocks presented a high, impenetrable wall, over which the torrent came tumbling in a sheet of feathery foam136, and fell into a broad deep basin, black from the shadows of the surrounding forest. Here, then, poor Rip was brought to a stand. He again called and whistled after his dog; he was only answered by the cawing of a flock of idle crows, sporting high in the air about a dry tree that overhung a sunny precipice; and who, secure in their elevation142, seemed to look down and scoff143 at the poor man’s perplexities. What was to be done? the morning was passing away,16 and Rip felt famished144 for want of his breakfast. He grieved to give up his dog and gun; he dreaded145 to meet his wife; but it would not do to starve among the mountains. He shook his head, shouldered the rusty146 firelock, and, with a heart full of trouble and anxiety, turned his steps homeward.
As he approached the village he met a number of people, but none whom he knew, which somewhat surprised him, for he had thought himself acquainted with every one in the country round. Their dress, too, was of a different fashion from that to which he was accustomed. They all stared at him with equal marks of surprise, and whenever they cast their eyes upon him, invariably stroked their chins. The constant recurrence147 of this gesture induced Rip, involuntarily, to do the same, when, to his astonishment, he found his beard had grown a foot long!
He had now entered the skirts of the village. A troop of strange children ran at his heels, hooting85 after him, and pointing at his grey beard. The dogs, too, not one of whom he recognised for an old acquaintance, barked at him as he passed. The very village was altered; it was larger and more populous148. There were rows of houses which he had never seen before, and those which had been his familiar haunts had disappeared. Strange names were over the doors—strange faces at the windows—everything was strange. His mind now misgave149 him; he began to doubt whether both he and the world around him were not bewitched. Surely this was his native village, which he had left but the day before. There stood the Kaatskill Mountains—there ran the silver Hudson at a distance—there was every hill and dale precisely150 as it had always been. Rip was sorely perplexed151. “That flagon last night,” thought he, “has addled152 my poor head sadly!”
It was with some difficulty that he found the way to his own house, which he approached with silent awe, expecting every moment to hear the shrill153 voice of Dame Van Winkle. He found the house gone to decay—the roof had fallen in, the windows shattered, and the doors off the hinges. A half-starved dog that looked like Wolf was skulking154 about it. Rip called him by name, but the cur snarled155, showed his teeth, and passed on. This was an unkind cut indeed. “My very dog,” sighed poor Rip, “has forgotten me!”
He entered the house, which, to tell the truth, Dame Van Winkle had always kept in neat order. It was empty, forlorn, and apparently abandoned. This desolateness156 overcame all his connubial157 fears—he called loudly for his wife and children—the lonely chambers158 rang for a moment with his voice, and then all again was silence.
He now hurried forth, and hastened to his old resort, the village inn—but it too was gone. A large rickety wooden building stood in its place, with great gaping159 windows, some of them broken and mended with old hats and petticoats, and over the door was painted, “The union Hotel, by Jonathan Doolittle.” Instead of the great tree that used to shelter the quiet little Dutch inn of yore, there now was reared a tall, naked pole, with something on the top that looked like a red nightcap, and from it was fluttering a flag, on which was a singular assemblage of stars and stripes;—all this was strange and incomprehensible. He recognised on the sign, however, the ruby160 face of King George, under which he had smoked so many a peaceful pipe; but even this was singularly metamorphosed. The red coat was changed for one of blue and buff, a sword was held in the hand instead of a sceptre, the head was decorated with a cocked hat, and underneath161 was painted in large characters, “General Washington.”
18 There was, as usual, a crowd of folk about the door, but none that Rip recollected162. The very character of the people seemed changed. There was a busy, bustling163, disputatious tone about it, instead of the accustomed phlegm and drowsy164 tranquillity. He looked in vain for the sage57 Nicholas Vedder, with his broad face, double chin, and fair long pipe, uttering clouds of tobacco-smoke instead of idle speeches; or Van Bummel, the schoolmaster, doling165 forth the contents of an ancient newspaper. In place of these, a lean, bilious-looking fellow, with his pockets full of handbills, was haranguing166 vehemently about rights of citizens—elections—members of congress—liberty—Bunker’s Hill—heroes of seventy-six—and other words, which were a perfect Babylonish jargon167 to the bewildered Van Winkle.
The appearance of Rip, with his long, grizzled beard, his rusty fowling-piece, his uncouth dress, and an army of women and children at his heels, soon attracted the attention of the tavern168 politicians. They crowded round him, eyeing him from head to foot with great curiosity. The orator169 bustled170 up to him, and, drawing him partly aside, inquired “On which side he voted?” Rip stared in vacant stupidity. Another short but busy little fellow pulled him by the arm, and, rising on tiptoe, inquired in his ear, “Whether he was Federal or Democrat171?” Rip was equally at a loss to comprehend the question; when a knowing, self-important old gentleman, in a sharp cocked hat, made his way through the crowd, putting them to the right and left with his elbows as he passed, and planting himself before Van Winkle, with one arm akimbo, the other resting on his cane172, his keen eyes and sharp hat penetrating173, as it were, into his very soul, demanded in an austere174 tone, “What brought him to the election with a gun on his shoulder, and a mob at his heels; and whether he meant 19 to breed a riot in the village?” “Alas! gentlemen,” cried Rip, somewhat dismayed, “I am a poor quiet man, a native of the place, and a loyal subject of the king, God bless him!”
Here a general shout burst from the bystanders—“A tory! a tory! a spy! a refugee! hustle175 him! away with him!” It was with great difficulty that the self-important man in the cocked hat restored order; and, having assumed a tenfold austerity of brow, demanded again of the unknown culprit, what he came there for, and whom he was seeking? The poor man humbly176 assured him that he meant no harm, but merely came there in search of some of his neighbours, who used to keep about the tavern.
“Well—who are they?—name them.”
Rip bethought himself a moment, and inquired: “Where’s Nicholas Vedder?”
There was a silence for a little while, when an old man replied, in a thin, piping voice, “Nicholas Vedder! why, he is dead and gone these eighteen years! There was a wooden tombstone in the churchyard that used to tell all about him, but that’s rotten and gone too.”
“Where’s Brom Dutcher?”
“Oh, he went off to the army in the beginning of the war; some say he was killed at the storming of Stony177 Point—others say he was drowned in a squall at the foot of Antony’s Nose. I don’t know—he never came back again.”
“Where’s Van Bummel, the schoolmaster?”
Rip’s heart died away at hearing of these sad changes in his home and friends, and finding himself thus alone in the world. Every answer puzzled him too, by treating of such enormous lapses20 of time, and of matters which he could not understand: war—congress—Stony Point;—he had no courage to ask after any more friends, but cried out in despair: “Does nobody here know Rip Van Winkle?”
“Oh, Rip Van Winkle!” exclaimed two or three, “oh, to be sure! that’s Rip Van Winkle yonder, leaning against the tree.”
Rip looked, and beheld179 a precise counterpart of himself, as he went up the mountain; apparently as lazy, and certainly as ragged. The poor fellow was now completely confounded. He doubted his own identity, and whether he was himself or another man. In the midst of his bewilderment, the man in the cocked hat demanded who he was, and what was his name.
“God knows!” exclaimed he, at his wit’s end; “I’m not myself—I’m somebody else—that’s me yonder—no—that’s somebody else got into my shoes—I was myself last night, but I fell asleep on the mountain, and they’ve changed my gun, and everything’s changed, and I can’t tell what’s my name, or who I am!”
The bystanders began now to look at each other, nod, wink1 significantly, and tap their fingers against their foreheads. There was a whisper, also, about securing the gun, and keeping the old fellow from doing mischief180, at the very suggestion of which the self-important man in the cocked hat retired181 with some precipitation. At this critical moment a fresh, comely182 woman pressed through the throng183 to get a peep at the grey-bearded man. She had a chubby184 child in her arms, which, frightened at his looks, began to cry. “Hush, Rip,” cried she, “hush, you little fool; the old man won’t hurt you.” The name of the child, the air of the mother, the tone of her voice, all awakened185 a train of recollections in his mind. “What is your name, my good woman?” asked he.
“Judith Gardenier.”
“And your father’s name?”
“Ah, poor man, Rip Van Winkle was his name, but it’s twenty years since he went away from home with his gun, and never has been heard of since,—his dog came home without him; but whether he shot himself, or was carried away by the Indians, nobody can tell. I was then but a little girl.”
“Where’s your mother?”
“Oh, she too had died but a short time since; she broke a blood vessel187 in a fit of passion at a New-England pedler.”
There was a drop of comfort, at least, in this intelligence. The honest man could contain himself no longer. He caught his daughter and her child in his arms. “I am your father!” cried he—“Young Rip Van Winkle once—old Rip Van Winkle now!—Does nobody know poor Rip Van Winkle?”
All stood amazed, until an old woman, tottering188 out from among the crowd, put her hand to her brow, and peering under it in his face for a moment, exclaimed: “Sure enough! it is Rip Van Winkle—it is himself! Welcome home again, old neighbour. Why, where have you been these twenty long years?”
Rip’s story was soon told, for the whole twenty years had seemed to him as but one night. The neighbours stared when they heard it; some were seen to wink at each other, and put their tongues in their cheeks; and the self-important man in the cocked hat, who, when the alarm was over, had returned to the field, screwed down the corners of his mouth, and shook his head—upon which there was a general shaking of the head throughout the assemblage.
It was determined, however, to take the opinion of old Peter Vanderdonk, who was seen slowly advancing up the road. He was a descendant of the historian of that name, who wrote one of the earliest accounts of the province. Peter was the most ancient inhabitant of the village, and well versed189 in all the wonderful events and traditions of the neighbourhood. He recollected Rip at once, and corroborated190 his story in the most satisfactory manner. He assured the company that it was a fact, handed down from his ancestor the historian, that the Kaatskill mountains had always been haunted by strange beings. That it was affirmed that the great Hendrick Hudson, the first discoverer of the river and country, kept a kind of vigil there every twenty years, with his crew of the Half-moon; being permitted in this way to revisit the scenes of his enterprise, and keep a guardian191 eye upon the river and the great city called by his name. That his father had once seen them in their old Dutch dresses playing at ninepins in a hollow of the mountain; and that he himself had heard, one summer afternoon, the sound of their balls, like distant peals of thunder.
To make a long story short, the company broke up and returned to the more important concerns of the election. Rip’s daughter took him home to live with her; she had a snug192, well-furnished house, and a stout, cheery farmer for a husband, whom Rip recollected for one of the urchins193 that used to climb upon his back. As to Rip’s son and heir, who was the ditto of himself, seen leaning against the tree, he was employed to work on the farm; but evinced an hereditary194 disposition42 to attend to anything else but his business.
Rip now resumed his old walks and habits; he soon found many of his former cronies, though all rather the worse for the wear and tear of time; and preferred making friends among the rising generation, with whom he soon grew into great favour.
Having nothing to do at home, and being arrived at that happy age when a man can be idle with impunity, he took his place once more on the bench at the inn-door, and was reverenced195 as one of the patriarchs of the village, and a chronicle of the old times “before the war.” It was some time before he could get into the regular track of gossip, or could be made to comprehend the strange events that had taken place during his torpor196. How that there had been a revolutionary war,—that the country had thrown off the yoke197 of old England,—and that, instead of being a subject of his Majesty George the Third, he was now a free citizen of the United States. Rip, in fact, was no politician; the changes of states and empires made but little impression on him; but there was one species of despotism under which he had long groaned198, and that was—petticoat government. Happily that was at an end; he had got his neck out of the yoke of matrimony, and could go in and out whenever he pleased, without dreading199 the tyranny of Dame Van Winkle. Whenever her name was mentioned, however, he shook his head, shrugged his shoulders, and cast up his eyes; which might pass either for an expression of resignation to his fate, or joy at his deliverance.
He used to tell his story to every stranger that arrived at Mr. Doolittle’s hotel. He was observed, at first, to vary on some points every time he told it, which was, doubtless, owing to his having so recently awaked. It at last settled down precisely to the tale I have related, and not a man, woman, or child in the neighbourhood but knew it by heart. Some always pretended to doubt the reality of it, and insisted that Rip had been out of his head, 28 and that this was one point on which he always remained flighty. The old Dutch inhabitants, however, almost universally gave it full credit. Even to this day they never hear a thunder-storm of a summer afternoon about the Kaatskill, but they say Hendrick Hudson and his crew are at their game of ninepins; and it is a common wish of all hen-pecked husbands in the neighbourhood, when life hangs heavy on their hands, that they might have a quieting draught out of Rip Van Winkle’s flagon.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
wink
|
|
| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
swelling
|
|
| n.肿胀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
hues
|
|
| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
barometers
|
|
| 气压计，晴雨表( barometer的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
hood
|
|
| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
descried
|
|
| adj.被注意到的，被发现的，被看到的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
tints
|
|
| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
antiquity
|
|
| n.古老；高龄；古物，古迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
colonists
|
|
| n.殖民地开拓者，移民，殖民地居民( colonist的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
surmounted
|
|
| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
descend
|
|
| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
gallantly
|
|
| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
chivalrous
|
|
| adj.武士精神的；对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
martial
|
|
| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
meekness
|
|
| n.温顺，柔和 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
obsequious
|
|
| adj.谄媚的，奉承的，顺从的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
pliant
|
|
| adj.顺从的；可弯曲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
malleable
|
|
| adj.(金属)可锻的;有延展性的；(性格)可训练的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
fiery
|
|
| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
tribulation
|
|
| n.苦难，灾难 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
virtues
|
|
| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
blessing
|
|
| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
amiable
|
|
| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
dame
|
|
| n.女士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
dodging
|
|
| n.避开，闪过，音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 )；回避 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
impunity
|
|
| n.(惩罚、损失、伤害等的)免除 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
perseverance
|
|
| n.坚持不懈，不屈不挠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
tart
|
|
| adj.酸的；尖酸的，刻薄的；n.果馅饼；淫妇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
murmur
|
|
| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
nibble
|
|
| n.轻咬，啃；v.一点点地咬，慢慢啃，吹毛求疵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
trudging
|
|
| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的现在分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
toil
|
|
| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
patrimonial
|
|
| adj.祖传的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
35
dwindled
|
|
| v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
ragged
|
|
| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
urchin
|
|
| n.顽童；海胆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
begotten
|
|
| v.为…之生父( beget的过去分词 )；产生，引起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
likeness
|
|
| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
dispositions
|
|
| 安排( disposition的名词复数 )； 倾向； （财产、金钱的）处置； 气质 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
disposition
|
|
| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
dinning
|
|
| vt.喧闹（din的现在分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
incessantly
|
|
| ad.不停地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
torrent
|
|
| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
eloquence
|
|
| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
shrugged
|
|
| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
adherent
|
|
| n.信徒，追随者，拥护者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
honourable
|
|
| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
courageous
|
|
| adj.勇敢的，有胆量的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
scoured
|
|
| 走遍（某地）搜寻（人或物）( scour的过去式和过去分词 )； （用力）刷； 擦净； 擦亮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
drooped
|
|
| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
sneaked
|
|
| v.潜行( sneak的过去式和过去分词 )；偷偷溜走；（儿童向成人）打小报告；告状 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
gallows
|
|
| n.绞刑架，绞台 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
yelping
|
|
| v.发出短而尖的叫声( yelp的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
mellows
|
|
| （使）成熟( mellow的第三人称单数 )； 使色彩更加柔和，使酒更加醇香 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
sage
|
|
| n.圣人，哲人；adj.贤明的，明智的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
sages
|
|
| n.圣人( sage的名词复数 )；智者；哲人；鼠尾草（可用作调料） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
majesty
|
|
| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
daunted
|
|
| 使（某人）气馁，威吓( daunt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
sagely
|
|
| adv. 贤能地，贤明地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
junto
|
|
| n.秘密结社；私党 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
accurately
|
|
| adv.准确地，精确地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
adherents
|
|
| n.支持者，拥护者( adherent的名词复数 )；党羽；徒子徒孙 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
displeased
|
|
| a.不快的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
vehemently
|
|
| adv. 热烈地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
puffs
|
|
| n.吸( puff的名词复数 )；（烟斗或香烟的）一吸；一缕（烟、蒸汽等）；（呼吸或风的）呼v.使喷出( puff的第三人称单数 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
inhale
|
|
| v.吸入(气体等)，吸(烟) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
tranquilly
|
|
| adv. 宁静地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
placid
|
|
| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
fragrant
|
|
| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
approbation
|
|
| n.称赞；认可 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
tranquillity
|
|
| n. 平静, 安静 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
naught
|
|
| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
virago
|
|
| n.悍妇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
outright
|
|
| adv.坦率地；彻底地；立即；adj.无疑的；彻底的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
persecution
|
|
| n. 迫害,烦扰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
reciprocated
|
|
| v.报答，酬答( reciprocate的过去式和过去分词 )；（机器的部件）直线往复运动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
ramble
|
|
| v.漫步，漫谈，漫游；n.漫步，闲谈，蔓延 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
scrambled
|
|
| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
scramble
|
|
| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
hooting
|
|
| （使）作汽笛声响，作汽车喇叭声( hoot的现在分词 )； 倒好儿； 倒彩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
solitudes
|
|
| n.独居( solitude的名词复数 )；孤独；荒僻的地方；人迹罕至的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
fatigued
|
|
| adj. 疲乏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
knoll
|
|
| n.小山，小丘 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
precipice
|
|
| n.悬崖，危急的处境 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
majestic
|
|
| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
bosom
|
|
| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
impending
|
|
| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
musing
|
|
| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
solitary
|
|
| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
bristled
|
|
| adj. 直立的，多刺毛的 动词bristle的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
growl
|
|
| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
skulked
|
|
| v.潜伏，偷偷摸摸地走动，鬼鬼祟祟地活动( skulk的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
apprehension
|
|
| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
toiling
|
|
| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的现在分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
strapped
|
|
| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
rust
|
|
| n.锈；v.生锈；(脑子)衰退 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
quaint
|
|
| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
alacrity
|
|
| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
ascended
|
|
| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
peals
|
|
| n.（声音大而持续或重复的）洪亮的响声( peal的名词复数 )；隆隆声；洪亮的钟声；钟乐v.（使）（钟等）鸣响，（雷等）发出隆隆声( peal的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
cleft
|
|
| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
perpendicular
|
|
| adj.垂直的，直立的；n.垂直线，垂直的位置 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
precipices
|
|
| n.悬崖，峭壁( precipice的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
azure
|
|
| adj.天蓝色的，蔚蓝色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
marvelled
|
|
| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
awe
|
|
| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
hanger
|
|
| n.吊架，吊轴承；挂钩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
rumbling
|
|
| n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
uncouth
|
|
| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
countenances
|
|
| n.面容( countenance的名词复数 )；表情；镇静；道义支持 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
smote
|
|
| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
quaffed
|
|
| v.痛饮( quaff的过去式和过去分词 )；畅饮；大口大口将…喝干；一饮而尽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
subsided
|
|
| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
beverage
|
|
| n.(水，酒等之外的)饮料 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
tempted
|
|
| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
draught
|
|
| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
reiterated
|
|
| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
hopping
|
|
| n. 跳跃 动词hop的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
gambol
|
|
| v.欢呼，雀跃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
joints
|
|
| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
rheumatism
|
|
| n.风湿病 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
astonishment
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
foam
|
|
| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
foaming
|
|
| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
babbling
|
|
| n.胡说，婴儿发出的咿哑声adj.胡说的v.喋喋不休( babble的现在分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
murmurs
|
|
| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
thickets
|
|
| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
entangled
|
|
| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
elevation
|
|
| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
scoff
|
|
| n.嘲笑，笑柄，愚弄；v.嘲笑，嘲弄，愚弄，狼吞虎咽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
famished
|
|
| adj.饥饿的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
dreaded
|
|
| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
rusty
|
|
| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
recurrence
|
|
| n.复发，反复，重现 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
populous
|
|
| adj.人口稠密的，人口众多的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
misgave
|
|
| v.使（某人的情绪、精神等）疑虑，担忧，害怕( misgive的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
150
precisely
|
|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
151
perplexed
|
|
| adj.不知所措的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
addled
|
|
| adj.（头脑）糊涂的，愚蠢的；（指蛋类）变坏v.使糊涂( addle的过去式和过去分词 )；使混乱；使腐臭；使变质 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
153
shrill
|
|
| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
154
skulking
|
|
| v.潜伏，偷偷摸摸地走动，鬼鬼祟祟地活动( skulk的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
155
snarled
|
|
| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
156
desolateness
|
|
| 孤独 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
157
connubial
|
|
| adj.婚姻的，夫妇的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
158
chambers
|
|
| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
159
gaping
|
|
| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
160
ruby
|
|
| n.红宝石，红宝石色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
161
underneath
|
|
| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
162
recollected
|
|
| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
163
bustling
|
|
| adj.喧闹的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
164
drowsy
|
|
| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
165
doling
|
|
| 救济物( dole的现在分词 )； 失业救济金 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
166
haranguing
|
|
| v.高谈阔论( harangue的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
167
jargon
|
|
| n.术语，行话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
168
tavern
|
|
| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
169
orator
|
|
| n.演说者，演讲者，雄辩家 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
170
bustled
|
|
| 闹哄哄地忙乱，奔忙( bustle的过去式和过去分词 )； 催促 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
171
democrat
|
|
| n.民主主义者，民主人士；民主党党员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
172
cane
|
|
| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
173
penetrating
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
174
austere
|
|
| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
175
hustle
|
|
| v.推搡；竭力兜售或获取；催促；n.奔忙(碌) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
176
humbly
|
|
| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
177
stony
|
|
| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
178
militia
|
|
| n.民兵，民兵组织 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
179
beheld
|
|
| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
180
mischief
|
|
| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
181
retired
|
|
| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
182
comely
|
|
| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
183
throng
|
|
| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
184
chubby
|
|
| adj.丰满的，圆胖的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
185
awakened
|
|
| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
186
faltering
|
|
| 犹豫的，支吾的，蹒跚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
187
vessel
|
|
| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
188
tottering
|
|
| adj.蹒跚的，动摇的v.走得或动得不稳( totter的现在分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
189
versed
|
|
| adj. 精通，熟练 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
190
corroborated
|
|
| v.证实，支持（某种说法、信仰、理论等）( corroborate的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
191
guardian
|
|
| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
192
snug
|
|
| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
193
urchins
|
|
| n.顽童( urchin的名词复数 )；淘气鬼；猬；海胆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
194
hereditary
|
|
| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
195
reverenced
|
|
| v.尊敬，崇敬( reverence的过去式和过去分词 )；敬礼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
196
torpor
|
|
| n.迟钝；麻木；（动物的）冬眠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
197
yoke
|
|
| n.轭；支配；v.给...上轭，连接，使成配偶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
198
groaned
|
|
| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
199
dreading
|
|
| v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |