Phronsie looked down into the sea of eager faces "Oh, Grandpapa," she exclaimed softly, and
plucking his sleeve, "don't you think we might hurry and begin?"
"Dear me, Phronsie," cried the old gentleman, whirling around in his big chair to look at her,
"why, they aren't all in, child," glancing down the aisle1 where Jasper as chief usher2 with Ben and
the others were busily settling the children. "Bless me, what is Joel doing?"
Phronsie looked too, to see Joel hurrying up to the platform with a little colored child perched on
his shoulder. She was crying all over his new coat, and at every step uttered a sharp scream.
"Toss the little beggar out," advised Livingston Bayley, as Joel shot by with his burden.
"Here, Joe, I'll give her a seat" cried David from a little knot of children, all turning excitedly
around at the commotion3, "there's just one here."
"Much obliged," said Joel, stalking on, "but she says she wants to see Phronsie about something."
Polly, who caught the last words, looked down reproachfully at him from the platform where
Phronsie always insisted that she should sit close to her. "Can't help it," Joel telegraphed back, "I
can't stop her crying."
Phronsie heard now, and getting out of her chair, she stepped to the platform edge. "Let me take
her," she begged.
"Phronsie, you can't have her up here!" Polly exclaimed, while old Mr. King put forth4 an uneasy
hand to stop all such proceedings5, and two or three of the others hurried up to remonstrate6 with
Joel.
"She wants to see me," said Phronsie, putting her cool cheek against the dark little one; "it's the
new child that came yesterday," and she took her off from Joel's shoulder, and staggered back to
her seat by Polly's side.
"Phronsie, do put her down," whispered Polly, "it's almost time to begin," glancing off at the clock
under its wealth of evergreen7 at the farther end of the hall. "Here, do let me take her."
But Phronsie was whispering so fast that she didn't hear.
"What is it? Please tell me quickly, for it is almost time to have the Tree."
At mention of the Tree, the little creature sat straight in Phronsie's white lap. "May I have some of
it, if I am black?" she begged, her beady eyes running with tears.
"Yes," said Phronsie, "I've tied a big doll on it for you my very own self." Then she put her lips on
the dark little cheek. "Now you must get down, for I have to talk to the children, and tell them all
about things, and why they have a Christmas."
But the little thing huddled9 up against Phronsie's waist-ribbons. "I'm the only one that's black," she
said. "I want to stay here."
"Now you see, Joel," began old Mr. King harshly. Phronsie laid a soft hand on his arm. "Please,
Grandpapa dear, may she have a little cricket up here? She feels lonely down with the other
children, for she's only just come."
"Oh, dear--dear!" groaned10 Polly, looking down at the little black object in Phronsie's lap. "Now
what shall we do?" This last to Jasper as he hurried up.
"I suppose we shall have to let her stay," he began.
"When Phronsie looks like that, she won't ever let her go," declared Ben, with a wise nod over at
the two.
"She's just as determined11 as she was that day when she would send Mr. King her gingerbread
boy," cried Polly, clasping her hands.
Jasper gave her a bright smile. "I wouldn't worry, Polly," he said. "See, Joel has just put a cricket--
it's all right," looking into Polly's troubled eyes.
Phronsie, having seated her burden on the cricket at her feet, got out of her own chair, and took
one step toward the platform edge, beginning, "Dear children." But the small creature left behind
clutched the floating hem8 of the white gown, and screamed harder than ever.
"Bless me!" ejaculated Mr. King in great distress12. "Here, will somebody take this child down
where she belongs?" While Polly with flushed cheeks, leaned over, and tried to unclasp the little
black fingers.
"Go up there, Joe, and stop the row," said Livingston Bayley from the visitor's seat at the end of
the hall; "you started it."
Jack13 Loughead took a step or two in the direction of the platform, then thought better of it, and got
back into his place again, hoping no one had noticed him in the confusion.
Phronsie leaned over as well as she could for the little hands pulling her back. "Jasper," she
begged, "do move the cricket so that she may sit by me."
And before anybody quite knew how it was done, there was the new child sitting on her cricket,
and huddled up against the soft folds of Phronsie's white gown, while Phronsie, standing14 close to
the platform edge, began again, "Dear children, you know this is Christmas Day--your very own
Christmas Day. And every Christmas Day since you came to the Home, I have told you the story
of the dear beautiful Lady; and every single Christmas I am going to tell it to you again, so that
you will never, never forget her."
Here Phronsie turned, and pointed15 up to a large, full-length portrait of Mrs. Chatterton hanging on
the wall over the platform. It was painted in her youth by a celebrated16 French artist, and
represented a beautiful young woman in a yellow satin gown, whose rich folds of lace fell away
from perfectly17 molded neck and arms.
All the children stared at the portrait as usual in this stage of the proceedings. "Now you must say
after me, 'I thank my beautiful Lady for this Home,'" said Phronsie slowly.
"I thank my beautiful Lady for this Home," said every child distinctly.
"Because without her I could not have had it," said Phronsie. "You must always remember that,
children. Now say it." She stood very patiently, her hands folded together, and waited to hear them
repeat it.
"Because without her I could not have had it," said the children, one or two coming in shrilly18 as a
belated echo.
[Illustration: "Will you?" asked Phronsie, looking down into their faces.]
"And I thank her for the beautiful Tree," said Phronsie. "Now say it, please."
"I thank her for the beautiful Tree," shouted the children, craning their necks away from the
portrait to get a glimpse of the curtain-veiled Tree in the other room. "Please can't we have it
now?" begged several voices.
"No; not until you all hear the story. Well, now, God took the beautiful Lady away to Heaven; but
she is always going to be here too," again Phronsie pointed to the portrait, "just as long as there is
any Home. And she is going to smile at you, because you are all going to be good children and try
to study and learn all that dear Mr. Henderson teaches you; and you are going to obey every single
thing that dear Mrs. Henderson tells you, just as soon as she speaks," said Phronsie slowly, and
turning her head to look at the different rows.
"I hope we'll be forgiven for sitting here and listening to old lady Chatterton's praises," whispered
Mrs. Hamilton Dyce to her husband. "It makes me feel dreadfully wicked to swallow it all without
a protest."
"Oh, we've swallowed that annually19 for three years now," said Mr. Dyce with a little laugh, "and
grown callous20. Your face is just as bad as it was the first time Phronsie eulogized her."
"I can't help it," declared his wife, "when I think of that dreadful old"--
"Oh, come," remonstrated21 her husband, "let's bury the past; Phronsie has."
"Phronsie!" ejaculated Mrs. Dyce. "Oh, that blessed child! Just hear her now."
"So on this Christmas Day," Phronsie was saying in clear tones, "you are to remember that you
wouldn't have had this Tree but for the beautiful Lady; and on every single other day, you must
remember that you wouldn't ever have had this Home; not a bit of any of it"--here she turned and
looked around the picture-hung walls, and out of the long windows to the dark pines and firs of the
broad lawn, tossing their snow-laden branches, "but for the beautiful lady. And you must every
one of you help to make this Home just the very best Home that ever was. Will you?" And then
she smiled down into their faces while she waited for her answer.
"Oh, yes, yes," screamed the children, every one. The little black creature got off from her cricket
at Phronsie's feet to look into her face. "And I will too," she cried.
"And now you all want to thank Miss Phronsie for her kind words, we know," Jasper cried at this
point, hurrying into the middle of the aisle, "and so, children, you may all stand up and say 'Thank
you,' and wave your handkerchiefs."
Up flew all the rows of children to their feet, and a cloud of tiny white squares of cambric fluttered
in the air, and the children kept piping out, "Thank you--Thank you." And old Mr. King began a
cheer for Phronsie, and another for the children; and then somebody down at the end of the long
hall set up another for Mr. King, and somebody else started one for Mr. Henderson, and another
for Mrs. Henderson, and there was plenty of noise, and high above it all rang the peals22 of happy,
childish laughter. And when it was all done, everybody pausing to take breath, then Amy
Loughead sent out the finest march ever heard, from the grand piano, and Polly and Jasper and all
the rest marshaled the children into a procession, and Phronsie clinging to old Mr. King's hand on
the one side, and holding fast to the small black palm on the other, away they all went, the visitors
falling into line, around and around the big hall, till at last--oh! at last, they turned into the
Enchanted23 Land that held the wonderful Christmas Tree. And when they were all before it, and
Phronsie in the center, she lifted her hand, and the room became so still one could hear a pin drop.
And then the little children who had sung the carols in the morning stepped forward and began, "It
came upon the midnight clear, that glorious song of old"--
And Phronsie drew a long breath, and folded her hands, not stirring till the very last word died on
the air.
And then Jasper and the others slowly drew aside the white curtain; and oh! the dazzling, beautiful
apparition24 that greeted every one's eyes! No one could stop the children's noisy delight, and the
best of it was, that no one wanted to. So for the next few moments it was exactly like the merry
time over the Tree in the "Provision Room" of the Little Brown House years ago, just as Polly had
said; only there was ever so much more of it, because there were ever so many more children to
make it!
And Polly and Ben were like children again themselves; and David and Joel were everywhere
helping25 on the fun; in which excitement the other Harvard man and even Livingston Bayley were
not ashamed to take a most active part, as Jasper, who had borrowed Santa Claus' attire26 for this
occasion, now made his appearance with a most astonishing bow. And then the presents began to
fly from the Tree, and Jack Loughead seemed to be all arms, for he was so tall he could reach
down the hanging gifts from the higher branches, so that he was in great demand; and Pickering
Dodge27, one eye on all of Polly's movements, worked furiously, and Alexia Rhys and Cathie
Harrison didn't give themselves hardly time to breathe; and there was quite enough for Mr.
Alstyne and the Cabots and Hamilton Dyce to do, and everybody else, for that matter, to pass
around the presents. And in the midst of it all, a big doll, resplendent in a red satin gown, and an
astonishing hat, was untied28 from the tree.
"O, I want to give it to her myself!" cried Phronsie.
"So you shall," declared Jasper, handing it to her.
"Susan, this is your very own child," said Phronsie, turning to the little colored girl at her side.
"Now you won't feel lonely ever, will you?" and she laid the doll carefully into the outstretched
arms.
And at last the green branches had shaken off their wealth of gifts, and the shining candles began
to go out, one by one.
"Grandpapa," cried Polly, coming up to old Mr. King and Phronsie, with a basket of mottoes and
bonbons29 enough to satisfy the demands of the most exacting31 Children's Home, "we ought to get
our paper caps on."
"Bless me!" ejaculated old Mr. King, pulling out his watch, "it can't be time to march. Ah, it's a
quarter of four this minute. Here, child," to Phronsie, "pick out your bonbon30 so that I can snap it
with you."
Phronsie gravely regarded the pretty bonbons in Polly's basket. "I must pick out yours first,
Grandpapa," she said slowly, lifting a silver paper-and-lace arrangement with a bunch of forget-
me-nots in the center. "I think this is pretty."
"So it is; most beautiful, dear," said the old gentleman, in great satisfaction. "Now we must crack
it, I suppose." So he took hold of one end, and Phronsie held fast to the other of the bonbon, and a
sharp little report gave the signal for all the bonbons to be opened. Thereupon, everybody, old and
young, hurried to secure one, and great was the snapping and cracking that now followed.
"Oh, Grandpapa, isn't your cap pretty?" exclaimed Phronsie in pleased surprise, drawing forth a
pink and yellow crinkled tissue bit. "See," smoothing it out with a gentle hand, "it's a crown,
Grandpapa!"
"Now that's perfectly lovely!" cried Polly, setting down her basket. "Here, let me help you, child--
there, that's straight. Now, Grandpapa, please bend over so that Phronsie can put it on."
Instead, the old gentleman dropped to one knee. "Now, dear," he said gallantly32. So Phronsie set
the pink and yellow crown on his white hair, stepping back gravely to view the effect.
"It is so very nice, dear Grandpapa," she said, coming back to his side. So old Mr. King stood up,
with quite a regal air, and Phronsie had a little blue and white paper bonnet33 tied under her chin by
Grandpapa's own hand. And caps were flying on to all the heads, and each right hand held a
tinkling34 little bell that had swung right merrily on a green branch- tip. And away to Amy
Loughead's second march--on and on, jangling their bells, the procession went, through the long
hall, till old Mr. King and Phronsie who led, turned down the broad staircase, and into the dining-
room; and here the guests stood on either side of the doorway35 while the little Home children
passed up through their midst.
And there were two long tables, one for the Home children, with a place for Phronsie at its head,
and another for old Mr. King at the foot. And the other table was for the older people; both gay
with Christmas holly36, and sweet with flowers. And when all were seated, and a hush37 fell upon the
big room, Phronsie lifted her hand.
_We Thank Thee, oh Lord, For this Christmas Day, And may we love Thee And serve Thee
alway. For Jesus Christ The Holy Child's sake. Amen._
It rang out clear and sweet in childish treble, floating off into the halls and big rooms.
"Now, Candace," Phronsie lifted a plate of biscuits, and a comfortable figure of a colored woman,
resplendent in the gayest of turbans and a smart stuff gown, made its appearance by Phronsie's
chair.
"I'm here, honey," and Candace's broad palm received the first plate to be passed, which opened
the ceremony of the Christmas feast.
Oh, this Christmas feast at Dunraven! It surpassed all the other Dunraven Christmases on record;
everybody said so. And at last, when no one could possibly eat more, all the merry roomful, young
and old, must have a holly sprig fastened to the coat, or gown, or apron38, and the procession was
formed to march back to the hall; and Mr. Jack Loughead's stereopticon flashed out the most
beautiful pictures, that his bright descriptions explained to the delighted children; and then games
and romps39, and more bonbons, and favors and flowers; and at last the sleighs and barges41 for Mr.
King's party were drawn42 up in the moonlight, at the door of Dunraven, and the Christmas at the
Home was only a beautiful memory.
"Miss Mary"--Mr. Livingston Bayley put out his brown driving glove--"this way," trying to lead
her off from the gay group on the snow-covered veranda43.
"Why, I don't understand," began Polly, in the midst of trying to make Phronsie see that it was not
necessary to go back and comfort Susan with another good-by, and turning a bewildered face up at
him.
"Why, I certainly supposed you accepted my offer to drive you to the station," said Mr. Bayley
hurriedly, and still extending his hand. "Come, Miss Pepper."
"Come, Polly, I've a seat for you," cried Alexia, just flying into the biggest barge40. "Do hurry,
Polly."
"Polly," called Jasper. She could see that he stood by one of the sleighs, beckoning44 to her.
Meantime, Phronsie had been borne off by old Mr. King, and Polly could hear her say, "Somebody
get Polly a seat, please."
"I considered it a promise," Livingston Bayley was saying under cover of the gay confusion. "And
accordingly I prepared myself. But of course if you do not wish to fulfill45 it, Miss Pepper, why, I"--
"Oh, no, no," cried Polly hastily, "if you really thought I promised you, Mr. Bayley, I will go,
thank you," and without a backward glance at the others, she moved off to the gay little cutter
where the horse stood shaking his bells impatiently.
"Where's Polly?" somebody called out. And somebody else peered down the row of vehicles, and
answered, "Mr. Bayley's driving her."
And they were all off.
Polly kept saying to herself, "Oh, dear, dear, what could I have said to make him think I would go
with him?" And Livingston Bayley smiled happily to himself under the collar of his driving coat;
and the sparkling snow cut into little crystals by the horse's flying feet, dashed into their faces, and
the scraps46 of laughter and merry nonsense from the other sleighs, made Polly want nothing so
much as to cower47 down into the corner of the big fur robes, for a good cry.
And before she knew it, Mr. Bayley had turned off, leaving the gay procession on the main road.
"Oh!" cried Polly then, and starting forward, "Mr. Bayley, why, we're off the road!"
"I know a short cut to the depot48," he answered hastily, "it's a better way."
"But we may miss the train--oh, do turn back, and overtake them," begged Polly, in a tremor49.
"This is a vastly better road," said Mr. Bayley, and instead of turning back, he flicked50 the horse
lightly with his whip. "You'll say, Miss Mary, that it's much better this way." He tried to laugh.
"Isn't the sleighing superb?"
"Oh, yes--oh dear me!" cried poor Polly, straining her eyes to catch a sight of the last vehicle with
its merry load. "Indeed, Mr. Bayley, I'm afraid we sha'n't get to the depot in time. There may be
drifts on this road, or something to delay us."
"Oh, no, indeed!" cried Livingston Bayley confidently, now smiling again at his forethought in
driving over this very identical piece of roadway, when the preparations for the Christmas festivity
were keeping all the other people busy at Dunraven, and leaving him free to provide himself with
sleighing facilities for the evening. "Don't be troubled, I know all about it; I assure you, Miss
Mary, we shall reach the depot as soon as the rest of the party do, for it's really a shorter cut."
Polly beat her foot impatiently on the warm foot-muff he had wrung51 with difficulty from the livery
keeper, and counted the moments, unable to say a word.
"Miss Mary"-- suddenly Mr. Livingston Bayley turned--"everything is forgiven under such
circumstances, I believe," and he laughed.
Polly didn't speak, only half hearing the words, her heart on the rest of the party, every instant
being carried further from her.
"And you must have seen--'pon me word it is impossible that you didn't see that--that"--
"Oh, dear," burst out Polly suddenly, and peering anxiously down the white winding52 highway. "If
there should be a drift on the road!"
Livingston Bayley bit his lip angrily. "'Pon me word, Miss Mary," he began, "you are the first girl
I ever cared to speak to, and now you can't think of anything but the roads."
Still Polly peered into the unbroken whiteness of the thoroughfare, lined by the snow-laden pines
and spruces, all inextricably mixed as the sleigh spun53 by. It was too late to turn back now, she
knew; the best that could be done, was to hurry on--and she began to count the hoof-beats and to
speculate how long it would be before they would see the lights of the little station, and find the
lost party again.
"I might have spoken to a great many other girls," Livingston Bayley was saying, "and I really
don't know why I didn't choose one of them. Another man in my place would, and you must do me
the justice to acknowledge it; 'pon me word, you must, Miss Mary."
Polly tore off her gaze from the snowy fields where the branches of the trees were making little
zigzag54 paths in the moonlight, to fasten it on as much of his face as was visible between his cap
and his high collar.
"And I really shouldn't think you would play with me," declared Mr. Bayley, nervously55 fingering
the whip-handle, "I shouldn't, don't you know, because you are not the sort of girl to do that thing.
'Pon me word, you're not, Miss Mary."
"I? what do you mean?" cried poor Polly, growing more and more bewildered.
"Why I--I--of course you must know; 'pon me word, you must, Miss Mary, for it began five years
ago, before you went abroad, don't you know?"
Polly sank back among her fur robes while he went on.
"And I've done what no other fellow would, I'm sure," he said incoherently, "in my place, kept
constant, don't you know, to one idea. Been with other girls, of course, but only really made up my
mind to marry you. 'Pon me word, I didn't, Miss Mary."
"And you've brought me out, away from the rest of the party, to tell me this," exclaimed Polly,
springing forward to sit erect56 with flashing eyes. "How good of you, Mr. Bayley, to announce your
intention to marry me."
"You can't blame me," cried Mr. Bayley in an injured way. "That cad of a Loughead means to
speak soon--'pon me word, the fellow does. And I've never changed my mind about it since I made
it up, even when you began to give music lessons."
"Oh, how extremely kind," cried Polly.
"Don't put it that way," he began deprecatingly. "I couldn't help it, don't you know, for I liked you
awfully57 from the first, and always intended to marry you. You shall have everything in the world
that you want, and go everywhere. And my family, you know, has an _entree_ to any society that's
worth anything."
"I wouldn't marry you," cried Polly stormily, "if you could give me all the gold in the world; and
as for family," here she sat quite erect with shining eyes, "the Peppers have always been the
loveliest people that ever lived-- the very loveliest-- oh"-- she broke off suddenly, starting
forward--"there's something on the road; see, Mr. Bayley!"
And spinning along, the horse now making up his mind to get to the depot in time, they both saw a
big wagon58 out of which protruded59 two or three bags evidently containing apples and potatoes; one
of the wheels determining to perform no more service for its master, was resting independently on
the snowy thoroughfare, for horse and driver were gone.
"I beg your pardon," exclaimed Mr. Livingston Bayley suddenly, at sight of this, "for bringing you
around here. But how was I to know of that beastly wreck60?"
"We must get out," said Polly, springing off from her side of the sleigh, "and lead the horse
around."
But this was not so easy a matter; for the farmer's wagon had stopped in the narrowest part of the
road, either side shelving off, under its treacherous61 covering of snow. At last, after all sorts of
ineffectual attempts on Mr. Bayley's part to induce the horse to stir a step, Polly desperately62 laid
her hand on the bridle63. "Let me try," she said. "There, you good creature," patting the horse's nose;
"come, that's a dear old fellow," and they never knew quite how, but in the course of time, they
were all on the other side of the wreck, and Mr. Livingston Bayley was helping her into the sleigh,
and showering her with profuse64 apologies for the whole thing.
"Never mind," said Polly, as she saw his distress, "only never say such perfectly dreadful things to
me again. And now, hurry just as fast as you can, please!"
And presently a swift turn brought the twinkling lights of the little station to view, and there was
the entire party calling to them as they now spied their approach, to "Hurry up!" and there also
was the train, holding its breath in curbed65 impatience66 to be off.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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2
usher
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| n.带位员，招待员；vt.引导，护送；vi.做招待，担任引座员 | |
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3
commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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4
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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5
proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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6
remonstrate
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| v.抗议，规劝 | |
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evergreen
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| n.常青树；adj.四季常青的 | |
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hem
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| n.贴边，镶边；vt.缝贴边；(in)包围，限制 | |
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9
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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10
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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11
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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13
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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14
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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15
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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16
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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17
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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shrilly
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| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
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annually
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| adv.一年一次，每年 | |
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callous
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| adj.无情的，冷淡的，硬结的，起老茧的 | |
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remonstrated
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
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peals
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| n.（声音大而持续或重复的）洪亮的响声( peal的名词复数 )；隆隆声；洪亮的钟声；钟乐v.（使）（钟等）鸣响，（雷等）发出隆隆声( peal的第三人称单数 ) | |
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enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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untied
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| 松开，解开( untie的过去式和过去分词 )； 解除，使自由； 解决 | |
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bonbons
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| n.小糖果( bonbon的名词复数 ) | |
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bonbon
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| n.棒棒糖；夹心糖 | |
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exacting
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| adj.苛求的，要求严格的 | |
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gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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tinkling
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| n.丁当作响声 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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holly
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| n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
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hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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romps
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| n.无忧无虑，快活( romp的名词复数 )v.嬉笑玩闹( romp的第三人称单数 )；（尤指在赛跑或竞选等中）轻易获胜 | |
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barge
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| n.平底载货船，驳船 | |
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barges
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| 驳船( barge的名词复数 ) | |
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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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veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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beckoning
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| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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fulfill
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| vt.履行，实现，完成；满足，使满意 | |
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scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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cower
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| v.畏缩，退缩，抖缩 | |
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depot
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| n.仓库，储藏处；公共汽车站；火车站 | |
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tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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zigzag
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| n.曲折，之字形；adj.曲折的，锯齿形的；adv.曲折地，成锯齿形地；vt.使曲折；vi.曲折前行 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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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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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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profuse
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| adj.很多的，大量的，极其丰富的 | |
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curbed
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| v.限制，克制，抑制( curb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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