To sum up all, the lid, resisting Mrs. Peerybingle's fingers, first of all turned topsy-turvy, and then, with an ingenious pertinacity19 deserving of a better cause, dived sideways in - down to the very bottom of the kettle. And the hull20 of the Royal George has never made half the monstrous21 resistance to coming out of the water, which the lid of that kettle employed against Mrs. Peerybingle, before she got it up again. It looked sullen22 and pig-headed enough, even then; carrying its handle with an air of defiance23, and cocking its spout24 pertly and mockingly at Mrs. Peerybingle, as if it said, 'I won't boil. Nothing shall induce me!' But Mrs. Peerybingle, with restored good humour, dusted her chubby25 little hands against each other, and sat down before the kettle, laughing. Meantime, the jolly blaze uprose and fell, flashing and gleaming on the little Haymaker at the top of the Dutch clock, until one might have thought he stood stock still before the Moorish Palace, and nothing was in motion but the flame. He was on the move, however; and had his spasms26, two to the second, all right and regular. But, his sufferings when the clock was going to strike, were frightful27 to behold28; and, when a Cuckoo looked out of a trapdoor in the Palace, and gave note six times, it shook him, each time, like a spectral29 voice - or like a something wiry, plucking at his legs. It was not until a violent commotion30 and a whirring noise among the weights and ropes below him had quite subsided31, that this terrified Haymaker became himself again. Nor was he startled without reason; for these rattling32, bony skeletons of clocks are very disconcerting in their operation, and I wonder very much how any set of men, but most of all 3 how Dutchmen, can have had a liking33 to invent them. There is a popular belief that Dutchmen love broad cases and much clothing for their own lower selves; and they might know better than to leave their clocks so very lank34 and unprotected, surely. Now it was, you observe, that the kettle began to spend the evening. Now it was, that the kettle, growing mellow35 and musical, began to have irrepressible gurglings in its throat, and to indulge in short vocal36 snorts, which it checked in the bud, as if it hadn't quite made up its mind yet, to be good company. Now it was, that after two or three such vain attempts to stifle37 its convivial38 sentiments, it threw off all moroseness39, all reserve, and burst into a stream of song so cosy40 and hilarious41, as never maudlin42 nightingale yet formed the least idea of. So plain too! Bless you, you might have understood it like a book better than some books you and I could name, perhaps. With its warm breath gushing43 forth44 in a light cloud which merrily and gracefully45 ascended46 a few feet, then hung about the chimney-corner as its own domestic Heaven, it trolled its song with that strong energy of cheerfulness, that its iron body hummed and stirred upon the fire; and the lid itself, the recently rebellious47 lid - such is the influence of a bright example performed a sort of jig48, and clattered49 like a deaf and dumb young cymbal50 that had never known the use of its twin brother. That this song of the kettle's was a song of invitation and welcome to somebody out of doors: to somebody at that moment coming on, towards the snug51 small home and the crisp fire: there is no doubt whatever. Mrs. Peerybingle knew it, perfectly52, as she sat musing53 before the hearth. It's a dark night, sang the kettle, and the rotten leaves are lying by the way; and, above, all is mist and darkness, and, below, all is mire54 and clay; and there's only one relief in all the sad and murky55 air; and I don't know that it is one, for it's nothing but a glare; of deep and angry crimson56, where the sun and wind together; set a brand upon the clouds for being guilty of such weather; and the widest open country is a long dull streak57 of black; and there's hoar-frost on the finger-post, and thaw58 upon the track; and the ice it isn't water, and the water isn't free; and you couldn't say that anything is what it ought to be; but he's coming, coming, 4 coming! And here, if you like, the Cricket DID chime in! with a Chirrup, Chirrup, Chirrup of such magnitude, by way of chorus; with a voice so astoundingly disproportionate to its size, as compared with the kettle; (size! you couldn't see it!) that if it had then and there burst itself like an overcharged gun, if it had fallen a victim on the spot, and chirruped its little body into fifty pieces, it would have seemed a natural and inevitable59 consequence, for which it had expressly laboured. The kettle had had the last of its solo performance. It persevered60 with undiminished ardour; but the Cricket took first fiddle61 and kept it. Good Heaven, how it chirped62! Its shrill63, sharp, piercing voice resounded64 through the house, and seemed to twinkle in the outer darkness like a star. There was an indescribable little trill and tremble in it, at its loudest, which suggested its being carried off its legs, and made to leap again, by its own intense enthusiasm. Yet they went very well together, the Cricket and the kettle. The burden of the song was still the same; and louder, louder, louder still, they sang it in their emulation65. The fair little listener - for fair she was, and young: though something of what is called the dumpling shape; but I don't myself object to that - lighted a candle, glanced at the Haymaker on the top of the clock, who was getting in a pretty average crop of minutes; and looked out of the window, where she saw nothing, owing to the darkness, but her own face imaged in the glass. And my opinion is (and so would yours have been), that she might have looked a long way, and seen nothing half so agreeable. When she came back, and sat down in her former seat, the Cricket and the kettle were still keeping it up, with a perfect fury of competition. The kettle's weak side clearly being, that he didn't know when he was beat. There was all the excitement of a race about it. Chirp, chirp, chirp! Cricket a mile ahead. Hum, hum, hum - m - m! Kettle making play in the distance, like a great top. Chirp, chirp, chirp! Cricket round the corner. Hum, hum, hum - m - m! Kettle sticking to him in his own way; no idea of giving in. Chirp, chirp, chirp! Cricket fresher than ever.
Hum, hum, hum -m -m! Kettle slow and steady. Chirp, chirp, chirp! Cricket going in to finish him. Hum, hum, hum - m - m! Kettle not to 5 be finished. Until at last they got so jumbled66 together, in the hurry-skurry, helter-skelter, of the match, that whether the kettle chirped and the Cricket hummed, or the Cricket chirped and the kettle hummed, or they both chirped and both hummed, it would have taken a clearer head than yours or mine to have decided67 with anything like certainty. But, of this, there is no doubt: that, the kettle and the Cricket, at one and the same moment, and by some power of amalgamation68 best known to themselves, sent, each, his fireside song of comfort streaming into a ray of the candle that shone out through the window, and a long way down the lane. And this light, bursting on a certain person who, on the instant, approached towards it through the gloom, expressed the whole thing to him, literally69 in a twinkling, and cried, 'Welcome home, old fellow! Welcome home, my boy!' This end attained70, the kettle, being dead beat, boiled over, and was taken off the fire. Mrs. Peerybingle then went running to the door, where, what with the wheels of a cart, the tramp of a horse, the voice of a man, the tearing in and out of an excited dog, and the surprising and mysterious appearance of a baby, there was soon the very What's-his-name to pay. Where the baby came from, or how Mrs. Peerybingle got hold of it in that flash of time, I don't know. But a live baby there was, in Mrs. Peerybingle's arms; and a pretty tolerable amount of pride she seemed to have in it, when she was drawn71 gently to the fire, by a sturdy figure of a man, much taller and much older than herself, who had to stoop a long way down, to kiss her. But she was worth the trouble. Six foot six, with the lumbago, might have done it. 'Oh goodness, John!' said Mrs. P. 'What a state you are in with the weather!' He was something the worse for it, undeniably. The thick mist hung in clots72 upon his eyelashes like candied thaw; and between the fog and fire together, there were rainbows in his very whiskers. 'Why, you see, Dot,' John made answer, slowly, as he unrolled a shawl from about his throat; and warmed his hands; 'it - it an't exactly summer weather. So, no wonder.' 'I wish you wouldn't call me Dot, John. I don't like it,' said Mrs. 6 Peerybingle: pouting73 in a way that clearly showed she DID like it, very much. 'Why what else are you?' returned John, looking down upon her with a smile, and giving her waist as light a squeeze as his huge hand and arm could give. 'A dot and' - here he glanced at the baby - 'a dot and carry - I won't say it, for fear I should spoil it; but I was very near a joke. I don't know as ever I was nearer.' He was often near to something or other very clever, by his own account: this lumbering74, slow, honest John; this John so heavy, but so light of spirit; so rough upon the surface, but so gentle at the core; so dull without, so quick within; so stolid75, but so good! Oh Mother Nature, give thy children the true poetry of heart that hid itself in this poor Carrier's breast - he was but a Carrier by the way - and we can bear to have them talking prose, and leading lives of prose; and bear to bless thee for their company! It was pleasant to see Dot, with her little figure, and her baby in her arms: a very doll of a baby: glancing with a coquettish thoughtfulness at the fire, and inclining her delicate little head just enough on one side to let it rest in an odd, half-natural, half-affected, wholly nestling and agreeable manner, on the great rugged76 figure of the Carrier. It was pleasant to see him, with his tender awkwardness, endeavouring to adapt his rude support to her slight need, and make his burly middle-age a leaning-staff not inappropriate to her blooming youth. It was pleasant to observe how Tilly Slowboy, waiting in the background for the baby, took special cognizance (though in her earliest teens) of this grouping; and stood with her mouth and eyes wide open, and her head thrust forward, taking it in as if it were air. Nor was it less agreeable to observe how John the Carrier, reference being made by Dot to the aforesaid baby, checked his hand when on the point of touching77 the infant, as if he thought he might crack it; and bending down, surveyed it from a safe distance, with a kind of puzzled pride, such as an amiable78 mastiff might be supposed to show, if he found himself, one day, the father of a young canary. 'An't he beautiful, John? Don't he look precious in his sleep?' 7 'Very precious,' said John. 'Very much so. He generally IS asleep, an't he?' 'Lor, John! Good gracious no!' 'Oh,' said John, pondering. 'I thought his eyes was generally shut. Halloa!' 'Goodness, John, how you startle one!' 'It an't right for him to turn 'em up in that way!' said the astonished Carrier, 'is it? See how he's winking79 with both of 'em at once! And look at his mouth! Why he's gasping80 like a gold and silver fish!' 'You don't deserve to be a father, you don't,' said Dot, with all the dignity of an experienced matron. 'But how should you know what little complaints children are troubled with, John! You wouldn't so much as know their names, you stupid fellow.' And when she had turned the baby over on her left arm, and had slapped its back as a restorative, she pinched her husband's ear, laughing. 'No,' said John, pulling off his outer coat. 'It's very true, Dot. I don't know much about it. I only know that I've been fighting pretty stiffly with the wind to-night. It's been blowing north- east, straight into the cart, the whole way home.' 'Poor old man, so it has!' cried Mrs. Peerybingle, instantly becoming very active. 'Here! Take the precious darling, Tilly, while I make myself of some use. Bless it, I could smother81 it with kissing it, I could! Hie then, good dog! Hie, Boxer82, boy! Only let me make the tea first, John; and then I'll help you with the parcels, like a busy bee. "How doth the little" - and all the rest of it, you know, John. Did you ever learn "how doth the little," when you went to school, John?' 'Not to quite know it,' John returned. 'I was very near it once. But I should only have spoilt it, I dare say.' 'Ha ha,' laughed Dot. She had the blithest little laugh you ever heard. 'What a dear old darling of a dunce you are, John, to be sure!' Not at all disputing this position, John went out to see that the boy with the lantern, which had been dancing to and fro before the door and window, like a Will of the Wisp, took due care of the horse; who was fatter than you would quite believe, if I gave you his measure, and so old that his 8 birthday was lost in the mists of antiquity83.
Boxer, feeling that his attentions were due to the family in general, and must be impartially84 distributed, dashed in and out with bewildering inconstancy; now, describing a circle of short barks round the horse, where he was being rubbed down at the stable-door; now feigning85 to make savage86 rushes at his mistress, and facetiously87 bringing himself to sudden stops; now, eliciting88 a shriek89 from Tilly Slowboy, in the low nursing-chair near the fire, by the unexpected application of his moist nose to her countenance90; now, exhibiting an obtrusive91 interest in the baby; now, going round and round upon the hearth, and lying down as if he had established himself for the night; now, getting up again, and taking that nothing of a fag-end of a tail of his, out into the weather, as if he had just remembered an appointment, and was off, at a round trot92, to keep it. 'There! There's the teapot, ready on the hob!' said Dot; as briskly busy as a child at play at keeping house. 'And there's the old knuckle93 of ham; and there's the butter; and there's the crusty loaf, and all! Here's the clothes-basket for the small parcels, John, if you've got any there - where are you, John?' 'Don't let the dear child fall under the grate, Tilly, whatever you do!' It may be noted94 of Miss Slowboy, in spite of her rejecting the caution with some vivacity95, that she had a rare and surprising talent for getting this baby into difficulties and had several times imperilled its short life, in a quiet way peculiarly her own. She was of a spare and straight shape, this young lady, insomuch that her garments appeared to be in constant danger of sliding off those sharp pegs96, her shoulders, on which they were loosely hung. Her costume was remarkable97 for the partial development, on all possible occasions, of some flannel98 vestment of a singular structure; also for affording glimpses, in the region of the back, of a corset, or pair of stays, in colour a dead-green. Being always in a state of gaping99 admiration100 at everything, and absorbed, besides, in the perpetual contemplation of her mistress's perfections and the baby's, Miss Slowboy, in her little errors of judgment101, may be said to have done equal honour to her head and to her heart; and though these did less honour to the baby's head, which they were the occasional means of bringing into contact with 9 deal doors, dressers, stair-rails, bed-posts, and other foreign substances, still they were the honest results of Tilly Slowboy's constant astonishment102 at finding herself so kindly treated, and installed in such a comfortable home. For, the maternal103 and paternal104 Slowboy were alike unknown to Fame, and Tilly had been bred by public charity, a foundling; which word, though only differing from fondling by one vowel's length, is very different in meaning, and expresses quite another thing. To have seen little Mrs. Peerybingle come back with her husband, tugging105 at the clothes-basket, and making the most strenuous106 exertions107 to do nothing at all (for he carried it), would have amused you almost as much as it amused him. It may have entertained the Cricket too, for anything I know; but, certainly, it now began to chirp again, vehemently109. 'Heyday110!' said John, in his slow way. 'It's merrier than ever, to- night, I think.' 'And it's sure to bring us good fortune, John! It always has done so. To have a Cricket on the Hearth, is the luckiest thing in all the world!' John looked at her as if he had very nearly got the thought into his head, that she was his Cricket in chief, and he quite agreed with her. But, it was probably one of his narrow escapes, for he said nothing. 'The first time I heard its cheerful little note, John, was on that night when you brought me home - when you brought me to my new home here; its little mistress. Nearly a year ago. You recollect112, John?' O yes. John remembered. I should think so! 'Its chirp was such a welcome to me! It seemed so full of promise and encouragement. It seemed to say, you would be kind and gentle with me, and would not expect (I had a fear of that, John, then) to find an old head on the shoulders of your foolish little wife.' John thoughtfully patted one of the shoulders, and then the head, as though he would have said No, no; he had had no such expectation; he had been quite content to take them as they were.
And really he had reason. They were very comely113. 'It spoke114 the truth, John, when it seemed to say so; for you have ever been, I am sure, the best, the most considerate, the most affectionate of husbands to me. This has been a happy home, John; and I love the 10 Cricket for its sake!' 'Why so do I then,' said the Carrier. 'So do I, Dot.' 'I love it for the many times I have heard it, and the many thoughts its harmless music has given me. Sometimes, in the twilight, when I have felt a little solitary115 and down-hearted, John - before baby was here to keep me company and make the house gay - when I have thought how lonely you would be if I should die; how lonely I should be if I could know that you had lost me, dear; its Chirp, Chirp, Chirp upon the hearth, has seemed to tell me of another little voice, so sweet, so very dear to me, before whose coming sound my trouble vanished like a dream. And when I used to fear - I did fear once, John, I was very young you know - that ours might prove to be an ill-assorted marriage, I being such a child, and you more like my guardian116 than my husband; and that you might not, however hard you tried, be able to learn to love me, as you hoped and prayed you might; its Chirp, Chirp, Chirp has cheered me up again, and filled me with new trust and confidence. I was thinking of these things to-night, dear, when I sat expecting you; and I love the Cricket for their sake!' 'And so do I,' repeated John. 'But, Dot? I hope and pray that I might learn to love you? How you talk! I had learnt that, long before I brought you here, to be the Cricket's little mistress, Dot!' She laid her hand, an instant, on his arm, and looked up at him with an agitated117 face, as if she would have told him something. Next moment she was down upon her knees before the basket, speaking in a sprightly118 voice, and busy with the parcels. 'There are not many of them to-night, John, but I saw some goods behind the cart, just now; and though they give more trouble, perhaps, still they pay as well; so we have no reason to grumble119, have we? Besides, you have been delivering, I dare say, as you came along?' 'Oh yes,' John said. 'A good many.' 'Why what's this round box? Heart alive, John, it's a wedding- cake!' 'Leave a woman alone to find out that,' said John, admiringly. 'Now a man would never have thought of it. Whereas, it's my belief that if you was to pack a wedding-cake up in a tea-chest, or a turn-up bedstead, or a pickled salmon120 keg, or any unlikely thing, a woman would be sure to find 11 it out directly. Yes; I called for it at the pastry-cook's.' 'And it weighs I don't know what - whole hundredweights!' cried Dot, making a great demonstration121 of trying to lift it. 'Whose is it, John? Where is it going?' 'Read the writing on the other side,' said John. 'Why, John! My Goodness, John!' 'Ah! who'd have thought it!' John returned. 'You never mean to say,' pursued Dot, sitting on the floor and shaking her head at him, 'that it's Gruff and Tackleton the toymaker!' John nodded. Mrs. Peerybingle nodded also, fifty times at least. Not in assent122 - in dumb and pitying amazement123; screwing up her lips the while with all their little force (they were never made for screwing up; I am clear of that), and looking the good Carrier through and through, in her abstraction. Miss Slowboy, in the mean time, who had a mechanical power of reproducing scraps124 of current conversation for the delectation of the baby, with all the sense struck out of them, and all the nouns changed into the plural125 number, inquired aloud of that young creature, Was it Gruffs and Tackletons the toymakers then, and Would it call at Pastry-cooks for wedding-cakes, and Did its mothers know the boxes when its fathers brought them homes; and so on. 'And that is really to come about!' said Dot. 'Why, she and I were girls at school together, John.' He might have been thinking of her, or nearly thinking of her, perhaps, as she was in that same school time. He looked upon her with a thoughtful pleasure, but he made no answer. 'And he's as old! As unlike her! - Why, how many years older than you, is Gruff and Tackleton, John?' 'How many more cups of tea shall I drink to-night at one sitting, than Gruff and Tackleton ever took in four, I wonder!' replied John, goodhumouredly, as he drew a chair to the round table, and began at the cold ham. 'As to eating, I eat but little; but that little I enjoy, Dot.' Even this, his usual sentiment at meal times, one of his innocent delusions126 (for his appetite was always obstinate, and flatly contradicted 12 him), awoke no smile in the face of his little wife, who stood among the parcels, pushing the cake-box slowly from her with her foot, and never once looked, though her eyes were cast down too, upon the dainty shoe she generally was so mindful of. Absorbed in thought, she stood there, heedless alike of the tea and John (although he called to her, and rapped the table with his knife to startle her), until he rose and touched her on the arm; when she looked at him for a moment, and hurried to her place behind the teaboard, laughing at her negligence127. But, not as she had laughed before. The manner and the music were quite changed. The Cricket, too, had stopped. Somehow the room was not so cheerful as it had been. Nothing like it. 'So, these are all the parcels, are they, John?' she said, breaking a long silence, which the honest Carrier had devoted128 to the practical illustration of one part of his favourite sentiment - certainly enjoying what he ate, if it couldn't be admitted that he ate but little. 'So, these are all the parcels; are they, John?' 'That's all,' said John. 'Why - no - I - ' laying down his knife and fork, and taking a long breath. 'I declare - I've clean forgotten the old gentleman!' 'The old gentleman?' 'In the cart,' said John. 'He was asleep, among the straw, the last time I saw him. I've very nearly remembered him, twice, since I came in; but he went out of my head again. Holloa! Yahip there! Rouse up! That's my hearty129!' John said these latter words outside the door, whither he had hurried with the candle in his hand.
Miss Slowboy, conscious of some mysterious reference to The Old Gentleman, and connecting in her mystified imagination certain associations of a religious nature with the phrase, was so disturbed, that hastily rising from the low chair by the fire to seek protection near the skirts of her mistress, and coming into contact as she crossed the doorway130 with an ancient Stranger, she instinctively131 made a charge or butt at him with the only offensive instrument within her reach. This instrument happening to be the baby, great commotion and alarm ensued, which the 13 sagacity of Boxer rather tended to increase; for, that good dog, more thoughtful than its master, had, it seemed, been watching the old gentleman in his sleep, lest he should walk off with a few young poplar trees that were tied up behind the cart; and he still attended on him very closely, worrying his gaiters in fact, and making dead sets at the buttons. 'You're such an undeniable good sleeper132, sir,' said John, when tranquillity133 was restored; in the mean time the old gentleman had stood, bareheaded and motionless, in the centre of the room; 'that I have half a mind to ask you where the other six are - only that would be a joke, and I know I should spoil it. Very near though,' murmured the Carrier, with a chuckle134; 'very near!' The Stranger, who had long white hair, good features, singularly bold and well defined for an old man, and dark, bright, penetrating135 eyes, looked round with a smile, and saluted136 the Carrier's wife by gravely inclining his head. His garb137 was very quaint138 and odd - a long, long way behind the time. Its hue139 was brown, all over. In his hand he held a great brown club or walking-stick; and striking this upon the floor, it fell asunder140, and became a chair. On which he sat down, quite composedly. 'There!' said the Carrier, turning to his wife. 'That's the way I found him, sitting by the roadside! Upright as a milestone141. And almost as deaf.' 'Sitting in the open air, John!' 'In the open air,' replied the Carrier, 'just at dusk. "Carriage Paid," he said; and gave me eighteenpence. Then he got in. And there he is.' 'He's going, John, I think!' Not at all. He was only going to speak. 'If you please, I was to be left till called for,' said the Stranger, mildly. 'Don't mind me.' With that, he took a pair of spectacles from one of his large pockets, and a book from another, and leisurely142 began to read. Making no more of Boxer than if he had been a house lamb! The Carrier and his wife exchanged a look of perplexity. The Stranger raised his head; and glancing from the latter to the former, said, 14 'Your daughter, my good friend?' 'Wife,' returned John. 'Niece?' said the Stranger. 'Wife,' roared John. 'Indeed?' observed the Stranger. 'Surely? Very young!' He quietly turned over, and resumed his reading. But, before he could have read two lines, he again interrupted himself to say: 'Baby, yours?' John gave him a gigantic nod; equivalent to an answer in the affirmative, delivered through a speaking trumpet143. 'Girl?' 'Bo-o-oy!' roared John. 'Also very young, eh?' Mrs. Peerybingle instantly struck in. 'Two months and three da- ays! Vaccinated144 just six weeks ago-o! Took very fine-ly! Considered, by the doctor, a remarkably145 beautiful chi-ild! Equal to the general run of children at five months o-old! Takes notice, in a way quite wonderful! May seem impossible to you, but feels his legs al-ready!' Here the breathless little mother, who had been shrieking146 these short sentences into the old man's ear, until her pretty face was crimsoned147, held up the Baby before him as a stubborn and triumphant148 fact; while Tilly Slowboy, with a melodious149 cry of 'Ketcher, Ketcher' - which sounded like some unknown words, adapted to a popular Sneeze - performed some cow-like gambols150 round that all unconscious Innocent. 'Hark! He's called for, sure enough,' said John. 'There's somebody at the door. Open it, Tilly.' Before she could reach it, however, it was opened from without; being a primitive151 sort of door, with a latch152, that any one could lift if he chose and a good many people did choose, for all kinds of neighbours liked to have a cheerful word or two with the Carrier, though he was no great talker himself. Being opened, it gave admission to a little, meagre, thoughtful, dingy-faced man, who seemed to have made himself a greatcoat from the sack-cloth covering of some old box; for, when he turned to shut the door, and keep the weather out, he disclosed upon the back of that 15 garment, the inscription153 G & T in large black capitals. Also the word GLASS in bold characters. 'Good evening, John!' said the little man. 'Good evening, Mum. Good evening, Tilly. Good evening, Unbeknown! How's Baby, Mum? Boxer's pretty well I hope?' 'All thriving, Caleb,' replied Dot. 'I am sure you need only look at the dear child, for one, to know that.' 'And I'm sure I need only look at you for another,' said Caleb. He didn't look at her though; he had a wandering and thoughtful eye which seemed to be always projecting itself into some other time and place, no matter what he said; a description which will equally apply to his voice. 'Or at John for another,' said Caleb. 'Or at Tilly, as far as that goes.
Or certainly at Boxer.' 'Busy just now, Caleb?' asked the Carrier. 'Why, pretty well, John,' he returned, with the distraught air of a man who was casting about for the Philosopher's stone, at least. 'Pretty much so. There's rather a run on Noah's Arks at present. I could have wished to improve upon the Family, but I don't see how it's to be done at the price. It would be a satisfaction to one's mind, to make it clearer which was Shems and Hams, and which was Wives. Flies an't on that scale neither, as compared with elephants you know! Ah! well! Have you got anything in the parcel line for me, John?' The Carrier put his hand into a pocket of the coat he had taken off; and brought out, carefully preserved in moss154 and paper, a tiny flower-pot. 'There it is!' he said, adjusting it with great care. 'Not so much as a leaf damaged. Full of buds!' Caleb's dull eye brightened, as he took it, and thanked him. 'Dear, Caleb,' said the Carrier. 'Very dear at this season.' 'Never mind that. It would be cheap to me, whatever it cost,' returned the little man. 'Anything else, John?' 'A small box,' replied the Carrier. 'Here you are!' '"For Caleb Plummer,"' said the little man, spelling out the direction. '"With Cash." With Cash, John? I don't think it's for me.' 16 'With Care,' returned the Carrier, looking over his shoulder. 'Where do you make out cash?' 'Oh! To be sure!' said Caleb. 'It's all right. With care! Yes, yes; that's mine. It might have been with cash, indeed, if my dear Boy in the Golden South Americas had lived, John. You loved him like a son; didn't you? You needn't say you did. I know, of course. "Caleb Plummer. With care." Yes, yes, it's all right. It's a box of dolls' eyes for my daughter's work. I wish it was her own sight in a box, John.' 'I wish it was, or could be!' cried the Carrier. 'Thank'ee,' said the little man. 'You speak very hearty. To think that she should never see the Dolls - and them a-staring at her, so bold, all day long! That's where it cuts. What's the damage, John?' 'I'll damage you,' said John, 'if you inquire. Dot! Very near?' 'Well! it's like you to say so,' observed the little man. 'It's your kind way. Let me see. I think that's all.' 'I think not,' said the Carrier. 'Try again.' 'Something for our Governor, eh?' said Caleb, after pondering a little while. 'To be sure. That's what I came for; but my head's so running on them Arks and things! He hasn't been here, has he?' 'Not he,' returned the Carrier. 'He's too busy, courting.' 'He's coming round though,' said Caleb; 'for he told me to keep on the near side of the road going home, and it was ten to one he'd take me up. I had better go, by the bye. - You couldn't have the goodness to let me pinch Boxer's tail, Mum, for half a moment, could you?' 'Why, Caleb! what a question!' 'Oh never mind, Mum,' said the little man. 'He mightn't like it perhaps. There's a small order just come in, for barking dogs; and I should wish to go as close to Natur' as I could, for sixpence. That's all. Never mind, Mum.' It happened opportunely155, that Boxer, without receiving the proposed stimulus156, began to bark with great zeal157. But, as this implied the approach of some new visitor, Caleb, postponing158 his study from the life to a more convenient season, shouldered the round box, and took a hurried leave. He might have spared himself the trouble, for he met the visitor upon the 17 threshold. 'Oh! You are here, are you? Wait a bit. I'll take you home. John Peerybingle, my service to you. More of my service to your pretty wife. Handsomer every day! Better too, if possible! And younger,' mused108 the speaker, in a low voice; 'that's the Devil of it!' 'I should be astonished at your paying compliments, Mr. Tackleton,' said Dot, not with the best grace in the world; 'but for your condition.' 'You know all about it then?' 'I have got myself to believe it, somehow,' said Dot. 'After a hard struggle, I suppose?' 'Very.' Tackleton the Toy-merchant, pretty generally known as Gruff and Tackleton - for that was the firm, though Gruff had been bought out long ago; only leaving his name, and as some said his nature, according to its Dictionary meaning, in the business - Tackleton the Toy-merchant, was a man whose vocation159 had been quite misunderstood by his Parents and Guardians160. If they had made him a Money Lender, or a sharp Attorney, or a Sheriff's Officer, or a Broker161, he might have sown his discontented oats in his youth, and, after having had the full run of himself in ill-natured transactions, might have turned out amiable, at last, for the sake of a little freshness and novelty. But, cramped163 and chafing164 in the peaceable pursuit of toy-making, he was a domestic Ogre, who had been living on children all his life, and was their implacable enemy. He despised all toys; wouldn't have bought one for the world; delighted, in his malice165, to insinuate166 grim expressions into the faces of brown-paper farmers who drove pigs to market, bellmen who advertised lost lawyers' consciences, movable old ladies who darned stockings or carved pies; and other like samples of his stock in trade. In appalling167 masks; hideous168, hairy, red-eyed Jacks169 in Boxes; Vampire170 Kites; demoniacal Tumblers who wouldn't lie down, and were perpetually flying forward, to stare infants out of countenance; his soul perfectly revelled171. They were his only relief, and safety-valve. He was great in such inventions. Anything suggestive of a Pony-nightmare was delicious to him. He had even lost money (and he took to that toy very kindly) by getting up Goblin slides for magic-lanterns, 18 whereon the Powers of Darkness were depicted172 as a sort of supernatural shell-fish, with human faces. In intensifying173 the portraiture174 of Giants, he had sunk quite a little capital; and, though no painter himself, he could indicate, for the instruction of his artists, with a piece of chalk, a certain furtive175 leer for the countenances176 of those monsters, which was safe to destroy the peace of mind of any young gentleman between the ages of six and eleven, for the whole Christmas or Midsummer Vacation.
What he was in toys, he was (as most men are) in other things. You may easily suppose, therefore, that within the great green cape111, which reached down to the calves177 of his legs, there was buttoned up to the chin an uncommonly178 pleasant fellow; and that he was about as choice a spirit, and as agreeable a companion, as ever stood in a pair of bull-headedlooking boots with mahogany-coloured tops. Still, Tackleton, the toy-merchant, was going to be married. In spite of all this, he was going to be married. And to a young wife too, a beautiful young wife. He didn't look much like a bridegroom, as he stood in the Carrier's kitchen, with a twist in his dry face, and a screw in his body, and his hat jerked over the bridge of his nose, and his hands tucked down into the bottoms of his pockets, and his whole sarcastic179 ill- conditioned self peering out of one little corner of one little eye, like the concentrated essence of any number of ravens180. But, a Bridegroom he designed to be. 'In three days' time. Next Thursday. The last day of the first month in the year. That's my wedding-day,' said Tackleton. Did I mention that he had always one eye wide open, and one eye nearly shut; and that the one eye nearly shut, was always the expressive181 eye? I don't think I did. 'That's my wedding-day!' said Tackleton, rattling his money. 'Why, it's our wedding-day too,' exclaimed the Carrier. 'Ha ha!' laughed Tackleton. 'Odd! You're just such another couple. Just!' The indignation of Dot at this presumptuous182 assertion is not to be described. What next? His imagination would compass the possibility of just such another Baby, perhaps. The man was mad. 'I say! A word 19 with you,' murmured Tackleton, nudging the Carrier with his elbow, and taking him a little apart. 'You'll come to the wedding? We're in the same boat, you know.' 'How in the same boat?' inquired the Carrier. 'A little disparity, you know,' said Tackleton, with another nudge. 'Come and spend an evening with us, beforehand.' 'Why?' demanded John, astonished at this pressing hospitality. 'Why?' returned the other. 'That's a new way of receiving an invitation. Why, for pleasure - sociability183, you know, and all that!' 'I thought you were never sociable,' said John, in his plain way. 'Tchah! It's of no use to be anything but free with you, I see,' said Tackleton. 'Why, then, the truth is you have a - what tea- drinking people call a sort of a comfortable appearance together, you and your wife. We know better, you know, but - ' 'No, we don't know better,' interposed John. 'What are you talking about?' 'Well! We DON'T know better, then,' said Tackleton. 'We'll agree that we don't. As you like; what does it matter? I was going to say, as you have that sort of appearance, your company will produce a favourable184 effect on Mrs. Tackleton that will be. And, though I don't think your good lady's very friendly to me, in this matter, still she can't help herself from falling into my views, for there's a compactness and cosiness185 of appearance about her that always tells, even in an indifferent case. You'll say you'll come?' 'We have arranged to keep our Wedding-Day (as far as that goes) at home,' said John. 'We have made the promise to ourselves these six months. We think, you see, that home - ' 'Bah! what's home?' cried Tackleton. 'Four walls and a ceiling! (why don't you kill that Cricket? I would! I always do. I hate their noise.) There are four walls and a ceiling at my house. Come to me!' 'You kill your Crickets, eh?' said John. 'Scrunch186 'em, sir,' returned the other, setting his heel heavily on the floor. 'You'll say you'll come? it's as much your interest as mine, you know, that the women should persuade each other that they're quiet and 20 contented162, and couldn't be better off. I know their way. Whatever one woman says, another woman is determined187 to clinch188, always. There's that spirit of emulation among 'em, sir, that if your wife says to my wife, "I'm the happiest woman in the world, and mine's the best husband in the world, and I dote on him," my wife will say the same to yours, or more, and half believe it.' 'Do you mean to say she don't, then?' asked the Carrier. 'Don't!' cried Tackleton, with a short, sharp laugh. 'Don't what?' The Carrier had some faint idea of adding, 'dote upon you.' But, happening to meet the half-closed eye, as it twinkled upon him over the turned-up collar of the cape, which was within an ace1 of poking189 it out, he felt it such an unlikely part and parcel of anything to be doted on, that he substituted, 'that she don't believe it?' 'Ah you dog! You're joking,' said Tackleton. But the Carrier, though slow to understand the full drift of his meaning, eyed him in such a serious manner, that he was obliged to be a little more explanatory. 'I have the humour,' said Tackleton: holding up the fingers of his left hand, and tapping the forefinger190, to imply 'there I am, Tackleton to wit:' 'I have the humour, sir, to marry a young wife, and a pretty wife:' here he rapped his little finger, to express the Bride; not sparingly, but sharply; with a sense of power. 'I'm able to gratify that humour and I do. It's my whim191. But - now look there!' He pointed192 to where Dot was sitting, thoughtfully, before the fire; leaning her dimpled chin upon her hand, and watching the bright blaze. The Carrier looked at her, and then at him, and then at her, and then at him again. 'She honours and obeys, no doubt, you know,' said Tackleton; 'and that, as I am not a man of sentiment, is quite enough for ME. But do you think there's anything more in it?' 'I think,' observed the Carrier, 'that I should chuck any man out of window, who said there wasn't.' 'Exactly so,' returned the other with an unusual alacrity193 of assent. 'To be sure! Doubtless you would. Of course. I'm certain of it.
Good 21 night. Pleasant dreams!' The Carrier was puzzled, and made uncomfortable and uncertain, in spite of himself. He couldn't help showing it, in his manner. 'Good night, my dear friend!' said Tackleton, compassionately194. 'I'm off. We're exactly alike, in reality, I see. You won't give us to-morrow evening? Well! Next day you go out visiting, I know. I'll meet you there, and bring my wife that is to be. It'll do her good. You're agreeable? Thank'ee. What's that!' It was a loud cry from the Carrier's wife: a loud, sharp, sudden cry, that made the room ring, like a glass vessel195. She had risen from her seat, and stood like one transfixed by terror and surprise. The Stranger had advanced towards the fire to warm himself, and stood within a short stride of her chair. But quite still. 'Dot!' cried the Carrier. 'Mary! Darling! What's the matter?' They were all about her in a moment. Caleb, who had been dozing197 on the cake-box, in the first imperfect recovery of his suspended presence of mind, seized Miss Slowboy by the hair of her head, but immediately apologised. 'Mary!' exclaimed the Carrier, supporting her in his arms. 'Are you ill! What is it? Tell me, dear!' She only answered by beating her hands together, and falling into a wild fit of laughter. Then, sinking from his grasp upon the ground, she covered her face with her apron198, and wept bitterly. And then she laughed again, and then she cried again, and then she said how cold it was, and suffered him to lead her to the fire, where she sat down as before. The old man standing199, as before, quite still. 'I'm better, John,' she said. 'I'm quite well now - I -' 'John!' But John was on the other side of her. Why turn her face towards the strange old gentleman, as if addressing him! Was her brain wandering? 'Only a fancy, John dear - a kind of shock - a something coming suddenly before my eyes - I don't know what it was. It's quite gone, quite gone.' 'I'm glad it's gone,' muttered Tackleton, turning the expressive eye all 22 round the room. 'I wonder where it's gone, and what it was. Humph! Caleb, come here! Who's that with the grey hair?' 'I don't know, sir,' returned Caleb in a whisper. 'Never see him before, in all my life. A beautiful figure for a nut-cracker; quite a new model. With a screw-jaw opening down into his waistcoat, he'd be lovely.' 'Not ugly enough,' said Tackleton. 'Or for a firebox, either,' observed Caleb, in deep contemplation, 'what a model! Unscrew his head to put the matches in; turn him heels up'ards for the light; and what a firebox for a gentleman's mantel-shelf, just as he stands!' 'Not half ugly enough,' said Tackleton. 'Nothing in him at all! Come! Bring that box! All right now, I hope?' 'Quite gone!' said the little woman, waving him hurriedly away. 'Good night!' 'Good night,' said Tackleton. 'Good night, John Peerybingle! Take care how you carry that box, Caleb. Let it fall, and I'll murder you! Dark as pitch, and weather worse than ever, eh? Good night!' So, with another sharp look round the room, he went out at the door; followed by Caleb with the wedding-cake on his head. The Carrier had been so much astounded200 by his little wife, and so busily engaged in soothing201 and tending her, that he had scarcely been conscious of the Stranger's presence, until now, when he again stood there, their only guest. 'He don't belong to them, you see,' said John. 'I must give him a hint to go.' 'I beg your pardon, friend,' said the old gentleman, advancing to him; 'the more so, as I fear your wife has not been well; but the Attendant whom my infirmity,' he touched his ears and shook his head, 'renders almost indispensable, not having arrived, I fear there must be some mistake. The bad night which made the shelter of your comfortable cart (may I never have a worse!) so acceptable, is still as bad as ever. Would you, in your kindness, suffer me to rent a bed here?' 'Yes, yes,' cried Dot. 'Yes! Certainly!' 'Oh!' said the Carrier, surprised by the rapidity of this consent. 23 'Well! I don't object; but, still I'm not quite sure that - ' 'Hush202!' she interrupted. 'Dear John!' 'Why, he's stone deaf,' urged John. 'I know he is, but - Yes, sir, certainly. Yes! certainly! I'll make him up a bed, directly, John.' As she hurried off to do it, the flutter of her spirits, and the agitation203 of her manner, were so strange that the Carrier stood looking after her, quite confounded. 'Did its mothers make it up a Beds then!' cried Miss Slowboy to the Baby; 'and did its hair grow brown and curly, when its caps was lifted off, and frighten it, a precious Pets, a-sitting by the fires!' With that unaccountable attraction of the mind to trifles, which is often incidental to a state of doubt and confusion, the Carrier as he walked slowly to and fro, found himself mentally repeating even these absurd words, many times. So many times that he got them by heart, and was still conning204 them over and over, like a lesson, when Tilly, after administering as much friction205 to the little bald head with her hand as she thought wholesome206 (according to the practice of nurses), had once more tied the Baby's cap on. 'And frighten it, a precious Pets, a-sitting by the fires. What frightened Dot, I wonder!' mused the Carrier, pacing to and fro. He scouted207, from his heart, the insinuations of the Toy-merchant, and yet they filled him with a vague, indefinite uneasiness. For, Tackleton was quick and sly; and he had that painful sense, himself, of being of slow perception, that a broken hint was always worrying to him. He certainly had no intention in his mind of linking anything that Tackleton had said, with the unusual conduct of his wife, but the two subjects of reflection came into his mind together, and he could not keep them asunder. The bed was soon made ready; and the visitor, declining all refreshment208 but a cup of tea, retired209. Then, Dot - quite well again, she said, quite well again - arranged the great chair in the chimney-corner for her husband; filled his pipe and gave it him; and took her usual little stool beside him on the hearth. She always WOULD sit on that little stool. I think she must have had 24 a kind of notion that it was a coaxing210, wheedling211 little stool. She was, out and out, the very best filler of a pipe, I should say, in the four quarters of the globe. To see her put that chubby little finger in the bowl, and then blow down the pipe to clear the tube, and, when she had done so, affect to think that there was really something in the tube, and blow a dozen times, and hold it to her eye like a telescope, with a most provoking twist in her capital little face, as she looked down it, was quite a brilliant thing.
As to the tobacco, she was perfect mistress of the subject; and her lighting212 of the pipe, with a wisp of paper, when the Carrier had it in his mouth - going so very near his nose, and yet not scorching213 it - was Art, high Art. And the Cricket and the kettle, turning up again, acknowledged it! The bright fire, blazing up again, acknowledged it! The little Mower214 on the clock, in his unheeded work, acknowledged it! The Carrier, in his smoothing forehead and expanding face, acknowledged it, the readiest of all. And as he soberly and thoughtfully puffed215 at his old pipe, and as the Dutch clock ticked, and as the red fire gleamed, and as the Cricket chirped; that Genius of his Hearth and Home (for such the Cricket was) came out, in fairy shape, into the room, and summoned many forms of Home about him. Dots of all ages, and all sizes, filled the chamber216. Dots who were merry children, running on before him gathering217 flowers, in the fields; coy Dots, half shrinking from, half yielding to, the pleading of his own rough image; newly-married Dots, alighting at the door, and taking wondering possession of the household keys; motherly little Dots, attended by fictitious218 Slowboys, bearing babies to be christened; matronly Dots, still young and blooming, watching Dots of daughters, as they danced at rustic219 balls; fat Dots, encircled and beset220 by troops of rosy221 grandchildren; withered222 Dots, who leaned on sticks, and tottered223 as they crept along. Old Carriers too, appeared, with blind old Boxers224 lying at their feet; and newer carts with younger drivers ('Peerybingle Brothers' on the tilt); and sick old Carriers, tended by the gentlest hands; and graves of dead and gone old Carriers, green in the churchyard. And as the Cricket showed him all these things -he saw them plainly, though his eyes were fixed196 25 upon the fire - the Carrier's heart grew light and happy, and he thanked his Household Gods with all his might, and cared no more for Gruff and Tackleton than you do. But, what was that young figure of a man, which the same Fairy Cricket set so near Her stool, and which remained there, singly and alone? Why did it linger still, so near her, with its arm upon the chimney-piece, ever repeating 'Married! and not to me!' O Dot! O failing Dot! There is no place for it in all your husband's visions; why has its shadow fallen on his hearth!
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ace
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| n.A牌；发球得分；佼佼者；adj.杰出的 | |
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chirp
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| v.(尤指鸟)唧唧喳喳的叫 | |
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scythe
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| n. 长柄的大镰刀，战车镰； v. 以大镰刀割 | |
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moorish
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| adj.沼地的，荒野的，生[住]在沼地的 | |
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mowed
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| v.刈，割( mow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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narrate
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| v.讲，叙述 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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sleety
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| 雨夹雪的，下雨雪的 | |
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penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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plume
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| n.羽毛；v.整理羽毛，骚首弄姿，用羽毛装饰 | |
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aggravating
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| adj.恼人的，讨厌的 | |
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obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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dribble
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| v.点滴留下，流口水；n.口水 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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morosely
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| adv.愁眉苦脸地，忧郁地 | |
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pertinacity
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| n.执拗，顽固 | |
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hull
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| n.船身；(果、实等的)外壳；vt.去(谷物等)壳 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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spout
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| v.喷出，涌出；滔滔不绝地讲；n.喷管；水柱 | |
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chubby
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| adj.丰满的，圆胖的 | |
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spasms
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| n.痉挛( spasm的名词复数 )；抽搐；（能量、行为等的）突发；发作 | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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spectral
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| adj.幽灵的，鬼魂的 | |
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commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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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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rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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lank
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| adj.瘦削的；稀疏的 | |
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mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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vocal
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| adj.直言不讳的；嗓音的；n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
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stifle
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| vt.使窒息；闷死；扼杀；抑止，阻止 | |
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convivial
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| adj.狂欢的，欢乐的 | |
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moroseness
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cosy
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| adj.温暖而舒适的，安逸的 | |
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hilarious
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| adj.充满笑声的，欢闹的；[反]depressed | |
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maudlin
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| adj.感情脆弱的，爱哭的 | |
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gushing
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| adj.迸出的；涌出的；喷出的；过分热情的v.喷，涌( gush的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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jig
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| n.快步舞（曲）；v.上下晃动；用夹具辅助加工；蹦蹦跳跳 | |
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49
clattered
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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50
cymbal
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| n.铙钹 | |
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51
snug
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| 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 | |
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52
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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53
musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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54
mire
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| n.泥沼，泥泞；v.使...陷于泥泞，使...陷入困境 | |
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55
murky
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| adj.黑暗的，朦胧的；adv.阴暗地，混浊地；n.阴暗；昏暗 | |
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56
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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57
streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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58
thaw
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| v.（使）融化，（使）变得友善；n.融化，缓和 | |
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59
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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60
persevered
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| v.坚忍，坚持( persevere的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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61
fiddle
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| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
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62
chirped
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| 鸟叫，虫鸣( chirp的过去式 ) | |
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63
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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64
resounded
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| v.（指声音等）回荡于某处( resound的过去式和过去分词 )；产生回响；（指某处）回荡着声音 | |
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65
emulation
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| n.竞争；仿效 | |
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66
jumbled
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| adj.混乱的；杂乱的 | |
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67
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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68
amalgamation
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| n.合并，重组；；汞齐化 | |
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69
literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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70
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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71
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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72
clots
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| n.凝块( clot的名词复数 )；血块；蠢人；傻瓜v.凝固( clot的第三人称单数 ) | |
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73
pouting
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| v.撅（嘴）( pout的现在分词 ) | |
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74
lumbering
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| n.采伐林木 | |
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75
stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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76
rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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77
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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78
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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79
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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80
gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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81
smother
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| vt./vi.使窒息；抑制；闷死；n.浓烟；窒息 | |
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82
boxer
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| n.制箱者，拳击手 | |
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83
antiquity
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| n.古老；高龄；古物，古迹 | |
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84
impartially
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| adv.公平地，无私地 | |
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85
feigning
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| 假装，伪装( feign的现在分词 )； 捏造（借口、理由等） | |
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86
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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87
facetiously
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| adv.爱开玩笑地；滑稽地，爱开玩笑地 | |
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88
eliciting
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| n. 诱发, 引出 动词elicit的现在分词形式 | |
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89
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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90
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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91
obtrusive
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| adj.显眼的；冒失的 | |
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92
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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93
knuckle
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| n.指节；vi.开始努力工作；屈服，认输 | |
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94
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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95
vivacity
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| n.快活，活泼，精神充沛 | |
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96
pegs
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| n.衣夹( peg的名词复数 )；挂钉；系帐篷的桩；弦钮v.用夹子或钉子固定( peg的第三人称单数 )；使固定在某水平 | |
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97
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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98
flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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99
gaping
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| 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 | |
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100
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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101
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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102
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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103
maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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104
paternal
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| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
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105
tugging
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| n.牵引感v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
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106
strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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107
exertions
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| n.努力( exertion的名词复数 )；费力；（能力、权力等的）运用；行使 | |
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108
mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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109
vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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110
heyday
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| n.全盛时期，青春期 | |
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111
cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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112
recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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113
comely
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| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
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114
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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115
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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116
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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117
agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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118
sprightly
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| adj.愉快的，活泼的 | |
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119
grumble
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| vi.抱怨；咕哝；n.抱怨，牢骚；咕哝，隆隆声 | |
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120
salmon
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| n.鲑，大马哈鱼，橙红色的 | |
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121
demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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122
assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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123
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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124
scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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125
plural
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| n.复数；复数形式；adj.复数的 | |
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126
delusions
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| n.欺骗( delusion的名词复数 )；谬见；错觉；妄想 | |
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127
negligence
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| n.疏忽，玩忽，粗心大意 | |
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128
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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129
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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130
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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131
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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132
sleeper
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| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
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133
tranquillity
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| n. 平静, 安静 | |
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134
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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135
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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136
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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137
garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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138
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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139
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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140
asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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141
milestone
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| n.里程碑；划时代的事件 | |
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142
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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143
trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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144
vaccinated
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| [医]已接种的，种痘的，接种过疫菌的 | |
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145
remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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146
shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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147
crimsoned
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| 变为深红色（crimson的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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148
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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149
melodious
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| adj.旋律美妙的，调子优美的，音乐性的 | |
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150
gambols
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| v.蹦跳，跳跃，嬉戏( gambol的第三人称单数 ) | |
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151
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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152
latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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153
inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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154
moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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155
opportunely
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| adv.恰好地，适时地 | |
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156
stimulus
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| n.刺激，刺激物，促进因素，引起兴奋的事物 | |
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157
zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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158
postponing
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| v.延期，推迟( postpone的现在分词 ) | |
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159
vocation
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| n.职业，行业 | |
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160
guardians
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| 监护人( guardian的名词复数 )； 保护者，维护者 | |
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161
broker
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| n.中间人，经纪人；v.作为中间人来安排 | |
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162
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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163
cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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164
chafing
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| n.皮肤发炎v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的现在分词 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
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165
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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166
insinuate
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| vt.含沙射影地说，暗示 | |
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167
appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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168
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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169
jacks
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| n.抓子游戏；千斤顶( jack的名词复数 )；（电）插孔；[电子学]插座；放弃 | |
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170
vampire
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| n.吸血鬼 | |
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171
revelled
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| v.作乐( revel的过去式和过去分词 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
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172
depicted
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| 描绘，描画( depict的过去式和过去分词 )； 描述 | |
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173
intensifying
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| v.（使）增强， （使）加剧( intensify的现在分词 )；增辉 | |
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174
portraiture
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| n.肖像画法 | |
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175
furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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176
countenances
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| n.面容( countenance的名词复数 )；表情；镇静；道义支持 | |
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177
calves
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| n.(calf的复数)笨拙的男子，腓；腿肚子( calf的名词复数 )；牛犊；腓；小腿肚v.生小牛( calve的第三人称单数 )；（冰川）崩解；生（小牛等），产（犊）；使（冰川）崩解 | |
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178
uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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179
sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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180
ravens
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| n.低质煤；渡鸦( raven的名词复数 ) | |
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181
expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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182
presumptuous
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| adj.胆大妄为的，放肆的，冒昧的，冒失的 | |
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183
sociability
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| n.好交际，社交性，善于交际 | |
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184
favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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185
cosiness
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| n.舒适，安逸 | |
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186
scrunch
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| v.压，挤压；扭曲（面部） | |
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187
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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188
clinch
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| v.敲弯，钉牢；确定；扭住对方 [参]clench | |
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189
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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190
forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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191
whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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192
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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193
alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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194
compassionately
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| adv.表示怜悯地，有同情心地 | |
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195
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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196
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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197
dozing
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| v.打瞌睡,假寐 n.瞌睡 | |
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198
apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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199
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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200
astounded
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| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
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201
soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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202
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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203
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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204
conning
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| v.诈骗，哄骗( con的现在分词 )；指挥操舵( conn的现在分词 ) | |
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205
friction
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| n.摩擦，摩擦力 | |
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206
wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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207
scouted
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| 寻找，侦察( scout的过去式和过去分词 )； 物色（优秀运动员、演员、音乐家等） | |
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208
refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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209
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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210
coaxing
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| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的现在分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱；“锻炼”效应 | |
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211
wheedling
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| v.骗取（某物），哄骗（某人干某事）( wheedle的现在分词 ) | |
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212
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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213
scorching
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| adj. 灼热的 | |
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214
mower
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| n.割草机 | |
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215
puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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216
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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217
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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218
fictitious
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| adj.虚构的，假设的；空头的 | |
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219
rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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220
beset
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| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
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221
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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222
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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223
tottered
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| v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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224
boxers
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| n.拳击短裤；（尤指职业）拳击手( boxer的名词复数 )；拳师狗 | |
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