I expected things to be rather desperate, remembering what they had been a month ago, arid2 letters from home had had but one theme, but coming from the green coastal3 belt, the city warmth, brightness and beauty, where people daintily dressed rode on the comfortable trams and enjoyed every other convenience and entertainment of existence, the contrast was shocking. The bare cooked paddocks by the way filled me with a feeling of despair.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t stay away any longer or I reckon you would have had to walk home. Old Bandicoot is almost too poor to draw you,” remarked Eusty, giving the brave old friend an unnecessary flick4 of the whip and raising the dust from his long shabby coat from which his bones protruded5.
Pa was about the same. “Serve him right,” continued Eusty. “He oughter learn not to be pokin’ his nose so close into the baits. We can take a short cut through Burrawong, the gates ain’t locked.”
Burrawong was one of the larger stations in which much of the good land of the district was locked. The cockies usually had to follow the main road, but since the drought the owners had opened one of their permanent water-holes so that the poorer settlers could cart water to their homesteads. They were to be seen with a cask and a dray bucketing water into troughs to a few staggering animals which had been watered thus since January, now eight months past.
In a hot dust storm the sun shows as a ball of blood, this being a cold sirocco, it showed like a full moon. I shut my eyes against the whirling grit6 and wrapped my cape7 around me while Eusty urged poor old Bandicoot to keep toddling8. In the paddocks of Burrawong, sheep skins lined the fences. The emaciated9 carcasses attracted flocks of black croakers and their dismal10 clamour filled the day.
“They’ve put on a couple of men to each paddock to skin the sheep as they die,” remarked Mr. Blackshaw. “They’ll have their work cut out after this wind. It topples the jumbucks over and they ain’t got strength to get up again. There were a few clouds knocking about yestiddy, but this wind has cooked their chances. Burrawong is about cooked, and so are we.”
“Like us,” chimed Eusty. “Nearly all the cows pegged11 out while you were away. Old Roany and Nellie went first, and we have to lift up old Taralga twice a day; she can’t hold out much longer.”
A dray passed loaded with wood and drawn12 by three horses. The tears came as I noted13 the condition of the animals. That morning they had been lifted on to their feet, and yet they struggled so gallantly14 for their incompetent15 masters—panting, trembling, staggering through their purgatory16 under lash17 and objurgation. My heart seemed to suffocate18.
Eusty’s voice was crisp with cheerfulness. Drought and debt had no power to dispirit him—it took a stomach-ache or something personal. “What’s making you so flaming down in the mug, Sybylla? It’s us—who’ve been at home grafting19 away like fury while you were flying round among the toffs having a slashing20 time—that ought to hang our lip. Them city folks livin’ on us people on the land!”
Bandicoot came to a dead stop opposite a man who was mending a gate. “Hello! The old moke still alive and kicking,” he observed. “Might get rain next month,” he continued hopefully. “Pet of a day ain’t it?”
“We’re about drove off of the land,” said Mr. Blackshaw. “We’ll have to join the unemployed22 and get seven bob a day minimum.”
We dropped our passenger at the corner of his own fence and toiled23 on to our destination, Bandicoot’s old coat sopping25 with the sweat of weakness.
“Put the poor old chap in the stable till he cools, and give him a handful of straw,” commanded Pa.
Ma adjured26 us to get inside quickly and close the door. She had cleared the dust away twice that day, and was now going to desist until the wind subsided27. Home was a dreary28 spectacle. Four-footed friends had died of their sufferings in my absence. Only the hardiest29 plants in the garden survived. Everything had a dirty grey film, irritating to the touch. Grit on the plates, grit between the teeth, grit on the pillow, grit in one’s soul, ugh! An all-pervading smell of dust—ugh!
Dear old Pa was cheerful. He greeted me like a real friend and said we were better off than the people out West, whose homes were sometimes entirely30 buried in sand. He wanted to hear of everyone I had met, especially his former associates. When we were settled for the evening before the fire—one thing that the dust could not spoil—Pa, by eager questioning, had me telling of everyone I had met and what they said—with certain reservations.
“You saw Goring32 Hardy33, did you have any talk with him?”
“Oh, yes, he was quite chatty, and advised me to go to London.”
“How did he suggest finding the means?” inquired Ma.
“He dropped the suggestion when I told him how we are situated34.” I did not add, and after he had found my maidenly35 citadel36 invulnerable.
“You’ve had a great holiday,” interposed Aunt Jane. “Times have changed since I was a girl. If I had acted as you have, flouting37 modesty38 and blaspheming God, I should have been locked up on bread and water instead of being flattered and entertained. I don’t know what the world is coming to with vulgarity and immorality39.”
“People will give you a little adulation, when it costs them nothing,” remarked Ma with withering41 actuality, and got out the darning.
Bung went my Sydney career. I was back on the land at ‘Possum Gully.
The dust storm took three days to clear away, and left everything in a deplorable condition. It meant housecleaning from end to end. I hated the coarse work after a taste of city luxury and conveniences, but I did not dare let my feelings escape me. The great adventure to Sydney had ended in débacle. I sat amid the débris of hopes and expectations—only nebulous ones it is true, but all that I had had—and I had to grope my way out.
I produced the Lindsay drawings as a counter irritant. Ma dismissed them with one blast. She said that THAT was all that men cared for, but women soon had too much of it.
I left the book about just to see—well just to have the figures seen by Aunt Jane. Pa said that there was nothing immoral40 in the human body, that it was a work of NATURE. Aunt Jane agreed, but said that ******** **** * ***** ** God, but that delicacy42 should be maintained. She put on her specs and singled out an example. ***** *** Ma said Hhhh * *** ***** ******* ** ******* *****. I had not sufficient experience to refute such dicta. I hid the drawings at the bottom of a packing case.
No one mentioned Henry. He had not written to me lately, and was still away in Queensland. I hoped he had forgotten me, but should he have done so it would be one more nail in the coffin43 of AMOUR, another of Pan’s “Half told Tales”.
So many kiss today, and die tomorrow:
And is remembrance sweet, or sweet and sorrow?
For some say only sweet; and sweet and bitter some...
Ah, who can end the tale, when all the dead are dumb!
[Bulletin Verse.]
As the days passed the mail brought a newspaper with Lady Jane’s letter. She had a long paragraph about the departure of Mr. Goring Hardy, Australia’s greatest literary man. He had been in demand among smart hostesses, and there would be an ache in more than one heart, Lady Jane dared suggest, when his ship carried him away from his native shores. No Australian girl had been able to interest him, but one beauty of the glorious eyes and velvety44 shoulders...Easy to discern this as Edmée. She was surely destined45 for a brilliant career matrimonially unless she was too ambitious and stayed too long in the stable, as Big Checks put it.
Lady Jane’s letter kept me informed of those of her clients or victims whom I had met.
Aunt Jane asked me what I intended to do to help my parents. “You met Big Ears, why didn’t you improve your chances there? And what about Mrs. Crasterton’s brother?”
“I don’t think anyone would want either of those,” I murmured.
“Hadn’t Mrs. Crasterton a son too?”
“Yes, but he’s a terrible swell46, wouldn’t look at anything but a SOCIETY girl.”
As the dreadful hot months dragged by, killing47 more and more suffering animals and pet plants and trees, I read that Big Ears had become engaged to a top notch48 SOCIETY girl who was also a tennis enthusiast49. He was a valuable property as represented by Lady Jane. Glamour50 oozed51 from her tales of him. Yet I had discerned nought52 but a creature that I would have wilted53 to acknowledge as my mate. I hoped that Aunt Jane would miss the news of his wedding.
I found pluck to inquire of Pa what had happened to Old Grayling.
“Pillaloo!” grinned Pa. “He’s kept in hobbles now. The flash buggy has disappeared.” His daughters had come to see Pa and Ma specially31 to apologise for the old man’s dementia. Silly old toad54 had made such a noise that it was one of the jokes of the district by now!
Horrors!
Our stoical land suffered, and we and the animals with it. The year ran down to harvest, a poor pinched harvest, but sufficient for the few remaining animals. I received a cheque for my little book. The first instalment of three-pences had totted up to one hundred pounds. It was a lot of money to us. It saved us that year. There was also an editor on one of the big dailies who encouraged me to write prose sketches55, and by these I sometimes made twenty-five shillings a week. He was gentle and kind and kept watch with his blue pencil against any originality56 that would have got me into trouble. At first I nearly sank through the boards because of the sentences he cut out—always those I had prized as my own discoveries. That they were deleted showed that I must be lacking in good form, but intuition quickly taught me what was acceptable.
I was able to write these articles at odd moments, and struggled more diligently57 with housewifery to offset58 the delinquency of attempting to write. An author enjoyed no prestige in ‘Possum Gully.
My rebellious59 discontent surged up more furiously than ever. I craved60 the pang61 and tang, the joys and struggles of life at the flood. I was willing to accept my share of tears and pains if I could have also some of the splendour and passion which were my temperamental right. Was all my power of emotion wrong?—something to be suppressed till it evaporated like youth itself—something ladled out to me for a span and passed on to another futile62 creature of an hour?
On being honest with myself I felt that any God set up, except by little Mr. David, was contrary to a sane63 conception of a just and omnipotent64 God worth the name of Creator. The rubbish about self-will, and wrongs being righted in some foggy heaven could not stand against even little Jimmy Dripping common sense. The voice of the wind urges the soul to deeper conceptions of spiritual wisdom. The magic in the wide sunlight cancels the trivial church image of a God fashioned on the pattern of an unprepossessing old man. The contentment preached by pastors65 and masters to the less fortunate in goods and opportunities sounds like an impudent66 assumption of betterism by those who are often in the worse collection of parasites67. Why should Ma’s extraordinary skill and management, which enables her to excel a fashionable couturière and equal a chef and baker68, be wasted, while poor old Lady Hobnob—to take one example—who cannot overcome B FLATS has a glorious mansion69 in a heavenly situation at Potts Point? Why should Pa, who had tried to help the struggling men by fearless and honest measures, have been robbed of his property while a vulgar old vulture like Sir James Hobnob, who had diverted to himself a fortune out of public funds, should have all the honours and be invited by the King to dine at Buckingham Palace and to sleep at Windsor Castle? I hated all the doctrines70 of ‘Possum Gully and its want of works, but had given up saying so aloud.
About Easter there was a bobbery in Lady Jane’s column. What do you guess? A SOCIETY WEDDING. A BEAUTY and a CONFIRMED BACHELOR. Most notable wedding of the year. OLD FAMILIES, SOCIETY, all were marshalled. Shower bouquets71, a dozen bridesmaids—a big galanty show.
I laughed to picture Gaddy in the middle of bridal flutter. What would he do with his corporation—ah, what...
No; I did not envy Edmée her bridegroom. Quite the reverse. Nevertheless, I did seem a petty failure with my hands showing more glaringly than ever the effects of coarse manual toil24, and my feet still unacquainted with silk stockings, while there was Edmée in satin and orange blossoms filling the newspapers with her success. I envied her her suitability to success, her disregard of consistency72, her obliviousness73 of personal detractors.
I could not complain of lack of opportunities. I wondered how many other women Goring Hardy had practically kidnapped for a week just for their company and nothing but kisses—ardent but respectable? Yet I had not improved the shining hour.
I had fled from Gaddy in such a way that he had protected his vanity by pretending that his advances were spoof74. In Big Ears, the catch of the previous season, I had discerned only a flap-eared weakling who stuttered prayers. He had offered to abrogate75 prayers until I was “saved”, but no, here I was back in ‘Possum Gully and he not yet returned from a tour in Spain, and I had nought but a dream tho’ it ne’er came true.
Bung! Bung! Pop! Pop! went all respect for romance. Edmée could put Gaddy in the position of the romantic lover and affinity76 that she had gushed77 about. Gaddy, who had scoffed78 at Edmée, succumbed79 to her. Big Ears, who was going to commit suicide for love of me, forgot in a day. Marriage evidently was a piece of trading: one took the best animal procurable80 and got on with it. Ah, me! Oh, well!
I wrote things at odd times, things that I wanted to write, different from those I wrote to please the kind Editor, who was desirous of helping81 me with bread and butter. But nothing found favour with publishers or editors in Sydney or Melbourne. They said they expected something different from me. I gave thought to this, based upon their suggestions for acceptability. I deduced that I was different, and that they wanted me to be the same as all the others, to be one of the reigning82 school. Also they had stories from England. Their readers preferred English stories.
Well, so did I. I had had no notions about realistic Australianism until misdirected by old Harris. He had brought upon me all this trouble, this defeat. I wrote to ask him whither now?
I never had a reply. He was dead.
Any poor LOCAL CACKLERS who wrote to me and of which, with my OWN HOOK conceit83, I was emphatically one, were assured that there was no hope for anyone in Australia. We must by hook or harpoon84 get away to THE BIG SMOKE.
For what does it matter if a scribe gain the encouragement of CRITICS and become the hope of the booksellers and circulating libraries that he will write a second bestseller, if the scribe himself does not gain enough profit either to earn the respect of those he lives among or to escape from them?
It was not that I did not hanker for the fleshpots of life, but that I was not constituted to accept the conditions which went with those offered to me. This depressed85 me acutely, for I was of a sociable86 nature and loved all that radiance and beauty of the world and life which is open only to those with means.
I had managed to alleviate87 my early unhappiness about God by discrediting88 the unpleasant representations of His vindictiveness89 with which religions abound90, by crediting only what was beautiful and noble in conception and by eschewing91 prayer as a superstition92. This helped to diminish God the tyrant93, but I had not found God the refuge and helper. One of my elderly friends-by-correspondence was warning me against self-pity as a debilitating94 affliction and directing my mind towards philosophy, but philosophy is rather an arid diet when one is hungry for adventure and romance.
Thus went the days with empty heads and dusty feet.
‘Possum Gully fell back to normal after throwing me up. It grew poorer socially. The genial95 and conversable Father O’Toole was succeeded by a man with beetling96 brows and a brogue to match. Our R.C. Friends invited us to his inauguration97, at which he berated98 his flock and ordered them to have nothing to do with Protestants under penalty of purgatory. The Reverend peasant was doubtless less ambitious for a bishopric, for it seems that in creeds99 or politics the less Christianity and reason and the more partisanship100 the surer the official rewards and honours for the protagonists101.
Dear little Mr. David had likewise departed. In his stead we had a visitation of English curates. Rusty102 said they talked like choking magpies103, and many a time he had to be driven from the entertainment of mimicking104 them to his work. They seldom called. They preferred the richer fleshpots of Burrawong, venerated105 the owner as a “squiah” and mistakenly relegated106 all cockies to those who should order themselves lowly and reverently107 to their “bettahs”.
Billy Olliver had removed to a place near Inverell. From the day of the show I had not seen him nor heard from him. Henry’s consequence had evidently scared him from the course. Billy’s friend, the teacher who had come in Old Harris’s place, took me to task over Billy. He said it was a cruel thing to have broken Billy’s heart—such a true honest fellow—no frill about him, but a thorough gentleman. How could I break his heart when he had never opened the question of love with me at all, how did Billy’s spokesman know that it was not my heart that had been trifled with? EXPERIENCE was showing me that this breaking of hearts and the hope of constancy in AMOUR were mirages108 like those encountered in the delirium109 of typhoid fever. I had to take refuge in dreams—dreams of the distant fields so green because they were far away.
So to speak!
Henry Beauchamp was nearly a year away in Queensland. The seasons there enabled him to take up the slack of his property pinched by drought in the Southern District. He came back overland, arriving first at Moongudgeonby, or Five-Bob Downs, as it had come to be known, as he said, over his head and under his nose, because of my pranks110.
The warnings against his fickleness111 were contradicted by his actions, but the smut of certain allegations remained like the smoke from a railway engine when you get in a tunnel. Renewed business around Goulburn enabled him to spend a lot of time at ‘Possum Gully.
We reopened our old battles, he being armoured in the dogma that it was NATURE for women to serve men and bring children into the world regardless of whether or not the world was a fit place to receive them. He said he could give me much more than I could ever make by writing. “Marriage,” he insisted, “gives a woman standing112. If she gets hold of a fellow with any sort of a head on him she has lots more standing than sour old school teachers and these other old maids, on their own, can have.”
STANDING!
“You don’t allow a woman any standing at all except by being the annexation113 of a man,” I said.
He laughed in his large healthy way. “Well, I did not arrange the world.”
“Yes, but you could help rearrange it,” I flashed, though I knew that among all the billions of men in the world there were few so just and brave that they would attempt any rearrangement that would lessen114 their top-dog self-confidence and loot; and none of these except Pa had ever undergone a sojourn115 at ‘Possum Gully.
“You’ll have the vote when you are old enough. The rearranging of the world is in your own hands now; and I voted for woman suffrage116.”
“There’s a lot of evolution in that, and evolution like posterity117 will be rather late in doing anything for the current generation.”
“Oh, Lord, I can’t make out how you can have so much rebellion in such a small soft frame.”
Many less stupid men than he would be surprised if they could see into the hearts of women who lie beside them so passively, or could hear what they say when the ogres of their bosom118 cannot hear.
“You’ll find women more against your ideas than men.”
“That is because they think it will please men—merely a matter of business advertisement.”
“Ah,” he continued complacently119. “You are not meant to be one of those brainy old man-haters who would rather have a snake around than a child. You were meant for love and motherhood.”
“Man-haters,” I contended, “are those who are game enough to object to the present state of affairs for their motherhood. One such woman has more power of deep loving than half-a-dozen of the namby-pamby over-sexed womanised things.”
“Look here,” I warn Henry over and over again, “don’t you risk me in the matrimonial basket. Throw your handkerchief on one of the dozens of girls and widows who would snatch it eagerly. The world is infested120 with women who will agree with you—little darlings without intelligence, and boastful of it, who have been trained to be afraid of the night and to screech121 at a mouse and all that sort of thing. I love being out alone in the night, and mice could sleep in my pocket without frightening me.”
If we are out riding when these discussions take place, he chews a few more gum leaves and says, “Thank you, no. The dolls have no spirit. I’d sooner marry a cow. I’d run away from a doll in three weeks.”
He has the same mentality122 as Goring Hardy—take the world as it is and be comfortable and a success. Take me and set to work to squash me into the groove123 of the noodles. The difference between Mr. Hardy and Mr. Beauchamp is in their interests, Henry’s being those of a man on the land and the politics appertaining thereto, and Goring having the literary tastes and politics of the Londoner.
“After your first child,” Henry maintains, “you’ll settle down as steady as a church.”
My first child! Something to break my spirit and tether me to the domestic tread-mill! Had he known my dreams of a first child he would not have tittered that mistake.
Even so, a first child need not last for ever. It could contribute to the fulfilment of life if it were not followed by a dozen others. I claim the same right as all the Father O’Toole’s to be a spiritual parent of my race rather than to submit to the ideal or to follow the example of the mother rabbit.
I repudiate124 the crawl theory that we should be servile to our parents or to God for the bare fact of a mean existence. Most people are satisfied with a world run in a wasteful125 insanitary fashion. I am not. They are unashamed that seventy-five per cent. Of human beings are fit only for the scrap126 heap. I am not. They are thankful to thrive while others starve. I am not.
I rebel with all my lung force against sitting down under life as it is, and as for a first child being an instrument of enslavement, both for his own and his mother’s sake, ’twere better he should never be.
The two greatest women in Australia are unmarried, and it would be a good plan for a few more to support them, to remain free to ventilate the state of marriage and motherhood and to reform its conditions.
“You just talk through your hat to be entertaining,” Henry continued after a while. “You’ll have to marry someone.”
“Why?”
“You could not endure to be despised as an old maid who could not get a man.”
At that I galloped127 right away from him leaving him a far speck129 on the glistening130 road that rises towards Lake George. I galloped until Popinjay was blown. Henry would not overtax Black-Dappled Grey to carry his sixteen stone at top speed. I reined-in on the crest131 from which far to the south can be seen the dreaming peaks of the mountains beyond the Murrumbidgee. Their beauty is a banner of spiritual strength raised for me to follow away from ‘Possum Gully limitations.
Never in face of that wide brilliance132 of eternity133 stretched on space would I give in to mental decay and a dun dim routine calling for nothing beyond the endowment of a halfwit.
Despised for being an old maid, indeed! Why are men so disturbed by a woman who escapes their spoliation? Is her refusal to capitulate unendurable to masculine egotism, or is it a symptom of something more fundamental?
Why have men invented monogamy? All the laws, all the philosophies and religions of academic education, as well as organised fighting and politics, are men’s inventions and are preserved by men as their special concern and business.
I chuckled134 into Popinjay’s twitching135 ears to imagine the shock my ideas in this direction would be for grandmas of the tame hen order and for Celibate136 Fathers. Of all the people I knew perhaps only two or three would discuss my theories without hysteria, though bishops137 and great-aunts can accept harlots as necessary and count technical virgins138 as more worthy139 of honour. This was another thought which to utter would be madness, and which to suppress seems canting cowardice140.
Henry came jogging up with his strong white teeth showing in a smile. “What thought smote141 you to run away like that?” he demanded.
I diverted him with a bit of surface smartness. “I was thinking that it must be difficult to sustain the fragrance142 and escape the frowsiness of marriage: singleness would be more aesthetic143.”
“Is that all! Now tell me if you could order a man to fit your ideas, what would he be like?”
I did not reply that it would be one who could put his finger on some hidden spring in himself and in me and in grand fusion144 reveal the fullness of life.
“Come now, what’s this fellow to be like?”
“At least he would not be afraid of freedom and the light of understanding for women as well as men. His mind would not prescribe asinine145 limitations for women as part of God’s will. He would not take rabies at the idea of a world where there would be no hungry children, no unprovided old age, and he would be ashamed to have harlots at street corners awaiting his patronage146 and then come to clean girls and blither about LOVE.”
“Hooray! Tell me some more.”
“There are other things he wouldn’t be that I have learned from old wives’ gossip, but I cannot enumerate147 them without being indecent. So many old wives take all the sweetness out of life because life has taken all the joy and sweetness out of them: and lastly, no potting, panning and puddening for me for a set of noodles that might as well remain unborn for all that they attain148.”
When Henry next caught up to me he said, “You have two years more to get these notions off your chest. They are no end of fun.”
He refuses to release me until the 39-21 hour has arrived. As he will then be within a month of 40, and refuses to wait any longer because 39 will look so much better on the marriage certificate. I have not quite dismissed him because only in marriage can respectable women satisfy curiosity. The penalties for violating the social code are so painful that they are avoided by the sensitive with the care exercised against smashing over a precipice149. Thrice free must be the innate150 wantons or the coarse who can plumb151 all heights and depths of curiosity and suck entertainment where they list unhampered by the agony of shame. The over-sensitive risk many chances of atrophying152 by the wayside.
Popinjay was restive153 for her foal, shut up at home, and grew so fractious that I had to relinquish154 argument and give myself fully21 to the delight of handling her as she reefed and plunged155. At length I gave her her head at full gallop128 down the long steep incline, feeling sure that she could keep on her feet and I in my saddle on her round slippery back.
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gales
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| 龙猫 | |
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arid
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| adj.干旱的；(土地)贫瘠的 | |
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coastal
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| adj.海岸的，沿海的，沿岸的 | |
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flick
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| n.快速的轻打，轻打声，弹开；v.轻弹，轻轻拂去，忽然摇动 | |
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protruded
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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grit
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| n.沙粒，决心，勇气；v.下定决心，咬紧牙关 | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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toddling
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| v.（幼儿等）东倒西歪地走( toddle的现在分词 )；蹒跚行走；溜达；散步 | |
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emaciated
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dismal
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pegged
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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noted
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gallantly
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incompetent
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purgatory
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lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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suffocate
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| vt.使窒息，使缺氧，阻碍；vi.窒息，窒息而亡，阻碍发展 | |
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grafting
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slashing
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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22
unemployed
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| adj.失业的，没有工作的；未动用的，闲置的 | |
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23
toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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25
sopping
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| adj. 浑身湿透的 动词sop的现在分词形式 | |
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26
adjured
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| v.（以起誓或诅咒等形式）命令要求( adjure的过去式和过去分词 )；祈求；恳求 | |
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27
subsided
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| 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 | |
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28
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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29
hardiest
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| 能吃苦耐劳的，坚强的( hardy的最高级 )； （植物等）耐寒的 | |
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30
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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31
specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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32
goring
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| v.（动物）用角撞伤，用牙刺破( gore的现在分词 ) | |
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33
hardy
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| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
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34
situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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35
maidenly
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| adj. 像处女的, 谨慎的, 稳静的 | |
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36
citadel
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| n.城堡；堡垒；避难所 | |
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37
flouting
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| v.藐视，轻视( flout的现在分词 ) | |
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38
modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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39
immorality
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| n. 不道德, 无道义 | |
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40
immoral
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| adj.不道德的，淫荡的，荒淫的，有伤风化的 | |
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41
withering
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| 使人畏缩的，使人害羞的，使人难堪的 | |
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42
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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43
coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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44
velvety
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| adj. 像天鹅绒的, 轻软光滑的, 柔软的 | |
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45
destined
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|
| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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46
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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47
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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48
notch
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| n.(V字形)槽口，缺口，等级 | |
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49
enthusiast
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| n.热心人，热衷者 | |
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50
glamour
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|
| n.魔力，魅力；vt.迷住 | |
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51
oozed
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的过去式和过去分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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52
nought
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|
| n.／adj.无，零 | |
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53
wilted
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| （使）凋谢，枯萎( wilt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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54
toad
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| n.蟾蜍，癞蛤蟆 | |
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55
sketches
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| n.草图( sketch的名词复数 )；素描；速写；梗概 | |
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56
originality
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|
| n.创造力，独创性；新颖 | |
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57
diligently
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| ad.industriously;carefully | |
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58
offset
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|
| n.分支，补偿；v.抵消，补偿 | |
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59
rebellious
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|
| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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60
craved
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| 渴望，热望( crave的过去式 )； 恳求，请求 | |
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61
pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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62
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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63
sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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64
omnipotent
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| adj.全能的，万能的 | |
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65
pastors
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| n.（基督教的）牧师( pastor的名词复数 ) | |
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66
impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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67
parasites
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| 寄生物( parasite的名词复数 )； 靠他人为生的人； 诸虫 | |
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68
baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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69
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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70
doctrines
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| n.教条( doctrine的名词复数 )；教义；学说；（政府政策的）正式声明 | |
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71
bouquets
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| n.花束( bouquet的名词复数 )；（酒的）芳香 | |
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72
consistency
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| n.一贯性，前后一致，稳定性；(液体的)浓度 | |
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73
obliviousness
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74
spoof
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| n.诳骗，愚弄，戏弄 | |
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75
abrogate
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| v.废止，废除 | |
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76
affinity
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| n.亲和力，密切关系 | |
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77
gushed
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| v.喷，涌( gush的过去式和过去分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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78
scoffed
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| 嘲笑，嘲弄( scoff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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79
succumbed
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| 不再抵抗（诱惑、疾病、攻击等）( succumb的过去式和过去分词 )； 屈从； 被压垮； 死 | |
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80
procurable
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|
| adj.可得到的，得手的 | |
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81
helping
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|
| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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82
reigning
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| adj.统治的，起支配作用的 | |
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83
conceit
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| n.自负，自高自大 | |
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84
harpoon
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|
| n.鱼叉；vt.用鱼叉叉，用鱼叉捕获 | |
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85
depressed
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|
| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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86
sociable
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|
| adj.好交际的，友好的，合群的 | |
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87
alleviate
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| v.减轻，缓和，缓解(痛苦等) | |
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88
discrediting
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| 使不相信( discredit的现在分词 )； 使怀疑； 败坏…的名声； 拒绝相信 | |
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89
vindictiveness
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| 恶毒；怀恨在心 | |
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90
abound
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| vi.大量存在；(in，with)充满，富于 | |
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91
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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92
superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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93
tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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94
debilitating
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| a.使衰弱的 | |
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95
genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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96
beetling
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| adj.突出的，悬垂的v.快速移动( beetle的现在分词 ) | |
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97
inauguration
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| n.开幕、就职典礼 | |
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98
berated
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| v.严厉责备，痛斥( berate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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99
creeds
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| （尤指宗教）信条，教条( creed的名词复数 ) | |
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100
Partisanship
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| n. 党派性, 党派偏见 | |
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101
protagonists
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| n.（戏剧的）主角( protagonist的名词复数 )；（故事的）主人公；现实事件（尤指冲突和争端的）主要参与者；领导者 | |
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102
rusty
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|
| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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103
magpies
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| 喜鹊（magpie的复数形式） | |
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104
mimicking
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| v.（尤指为了逗乐而）模仿( mimic的现在分词 )；酷似 | |
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105
venerated
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| 敬重（某人或某事物），崇敬( venerate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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106
relegated
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|
| v.使降级( relegate的过去式和过去分词 )；使降职；转移；把…归类 | |
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107
reverently
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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108
mirages
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| n.海市蜃楼，幻景( mirage的名词复数 ) | |
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109
delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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110
pranks
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| n.玩笑，恶作剧( prank的名词复数 ) | |
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111
fickleness
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| n.易变；无常；浮躁；变化无常 | |
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112
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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113
annexation
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| n.吞并，合并 | |
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114
lessen
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| vt.减少，减轻；缩小 | |
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115
sojourn
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| v./n.旅居，寄居；逗留 | |
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116
suffrage
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| n.投票，选举权，参政权 | |
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117
posterity
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| n.后裔，子孙，后代 | |
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118
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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119
complacently
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| adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
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120
infested
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| adj.为患的，大批滋生的（常与with搭配）v.害虫、野兽大批出没于( infest的过去式和过去分词 )；遍布于 | |
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121
screech
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| n./v.尖叫；(发出)刺耳的声音 | |
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122
mentality
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| n.心理，思想，脑力 | |
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123
groove
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| n.沟，槽；凹线，（刻出的）线条，习惯 | |
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124
repudiate
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| v.拒绝，拒付，拒绝履行 | |
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125
wasteful
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| adj.（造成）浪费的，挥霍的 | |
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126
scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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127
galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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128
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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129
speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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130
glistening
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|
| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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131
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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132
brilliance
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|
| n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智 | |
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133
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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134
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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135
twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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136
celibate
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| adj.独身的，独身主义的；n.独身者 | |
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137
bishops
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| （基督教某些教派管辖大教区的）主教( bishop的名词复数 )； （国际象棋的）象 | |
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138
virgins
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| 处女，童男( virgin的名词复数 )； 童贞玛利亚（耶稣之母） | |
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139
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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140
cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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141
smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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142
fragrance
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|
| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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143
aesthetic
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|
| adj.美学的，审美的，有美感 | |
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144
fusion
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| n.溶化；熔解；熔化状态，熔和；熔接 | |
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145
asinine
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| adj.愚蠢的 | |
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146
patronage
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| n.赞助，支援，援助；光顾，捧场 | |
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147
enumerate
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| v.列举，计算，枚举，数 | |
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148
attain
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| vt.达到，获得，完成 | |
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149
precipice
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| n.悬崖，危急的处境 | |
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150
innate
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| adj.天生的，固有的，天赋的 | |
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151
plumb
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| adv.精确地，完全地；v.了解意义，测水深 | |
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152
atrophying
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| v.（使）萎缩，（使）虚脱，（使）衰退( atrophy的现在分词 ) | |
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153
restive
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| adj.不安宁的，不安静的 | |
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154
relinquish
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| v.放弃，撤回，让与，放手 | |
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155
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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