For anything I know, I may have had some wild idea of running all the way to Dover, when I gave up the pursuit of the young man with the donkey-cart, and started for Greenwich. My scattered1 senses were soon collected as to that point, if I had; for I came to a stop in the Kent Road, at a terrace with a piece of water before it, and a great foolish image in the middle, blowing a dry shell. Here I sat down on a doorstep, quite spent and exhausted2 with the efforts I had already made, and with hardly breath enough to cry for the loss of my box and half-guinea.
It was by this time dark; I heard the clocks strike ten, as I sat resting. But it was a summer night, fortunately, and fine weather. When I had recovered my breath, and had got rid of a stifling3 sensation in my throat, I rose up and went on. In the midst of my distress4, I had no notion of going back. I doubt if I should have had any, though there had been a Swiss snow-drift in the Kent Road.
But my standing5 possessed6 of only three-halfpence in the world (and I am sure I wonder how they came to be left in my pocket on a Saturday night!) troubled me none the less because I went on. I began to picture to myself, as a scrap7 of newspaper intelligence, my being found dead in a day or two, under some hedge; and I trudged8 on miserably9, though as fast as I could, until I happened to pass a little shop, where it was written up that ladies' and gentlemen's wardrobes were bought, and that the best price was given for rags, bones, and kitchen-stuff. The master of this shop was sitting at the door in his shirt-sleeves, smoking; and as there were a great many coats and pairs of trousers dangling10 from the low ceiling, and only two feeble candles burning inside to show what they were, I fancied that he looked like a man of a revengeful disposition11, who had hung all his enemies, and was enjoying himself.
My late experiences with Mr. and Mrs. Micawber suggested to me that here might be a means of keeping off the wolf for a little while. I went up the next by-street, took off my waistcoat, rolled it neatly12 under my arm, and came back to the shop door.
'If you please, sir,' I said, 'I am to sell this for a fair price.'
Mr. Dolloby - Dolloby was the name over the shop door, at least - took the waistcoat, stood his pipe on its head, against the door-post, went into the shop, followed by me, snuffed the two candles with his fingers, spread the waistcoat on the counter, and looked at it there, held it up against the light, and looked at it there, and ultimately said:
'What do you call a price, now, for this here little weskit?'
'Oh! you know best, sir,' I returned modestly.
'I can't be buyer and seller too,' said Mr. Dolloby. 'Put a price on this here little weskit.'
'Would eighteenpence be?'- I hinted, after some hesitation13.
Mr. Dolloby rolled it up again, and gave it me back. 'I should rob my family,' he said, 'if I was to offer ninepence for it.'
This was a disagreeable way of putting the business; because it imposed upon me, a perfect stranger, the unpleasantness of asking Mr. Dolloby to rob his family on my account. My circumstances being so very pressing, however, I said I would take ninepence for it, if he pleased. Mr. Dolloby, not without some grumbling14, gave ninepence. I wished him good night, and walked out of the shop the richer by that sum, and the poorer by a waistcoat. But when I buttoned my jacket, that was not much. Indeed, I foresaw pretty clearly that my jacket would go next, and that I should have to make the best of my way to Dover in a shirt and a pair of trousers, and might deem myself lucky if I got there even in that trim. But my mind did not run so much on this as might be supposed. Beyond a general impression of the distance before me, and of the young man with the donkey-cart having used me cruelly, I think I had no very urgent sense of my difficulties when I once again set off with my ninepence in my pocket.
A plan had occurred to me for passing the night, which I was going to carry into execution. This was, to lie behind the wall at the back of my old school, in a corner where there used to be a haystack. I imagined it would be a kind of company to have the boys, and the bedroom where I used to tell the stories, so near me: although the boys would know nothing of my being there, and the bedroom would yield me no shelter.
I had had a hard day's work, and was pretty well jaded15 when I came climbing out, at last, upon the level of Blackheath. It cost me some trouble to find out Salem House; but I found it, and I found a haystack in the corner, and I lay down by it; having first walked round the wall, and looked up at the windows, and seen that all was dark and silent within. Never shall I forget the lonely sensation of first lying down, without a roof above my head!
Sleep came upon me as it came on many other outcasts, against whom house-doors were locked, and house-dogs barked, that night - and I dreamed of lying on my old school-bed, talking to the boys in my room; and found myself sitting upright, with Steerforth's name upon my lips, looking wildly at the stars that were glistening17 and glimmering18 above me. When I remembered where I was at that untimely hour, a feeling stole upon me that made me get up, afraid of I don't know what, and walk about. But the fainter glimmering of the stars, and the pale light in the sky where the day was coming, reassured19 me: and my eyes being very heavy, I lay down again and slept - though with a knowledge in my sleep that it was cold - until the warm beams of the sun, and the ringing of the getting-up bell at Salem House, awoke me. If I could have hoped that Steerforth was there, I would have lurked20 about until he came out alone; but I knew he must have left long since. Traddles still remained, perhaps, but it was very doubtful; and I had not sufficient confidence in his discretion22 or good luck, however strong my reliance was on his good nature, to wish to trust him with my situation. So I crept away from the wall as Mr. Creakle's boys were getting up, and struck into the long dusty track which I had first known to be the Dover Road when I was one of them, and when I little expected that any eyes would ever see me the wayfarer24 I was now, upon it.
What a different Sunday morning from the old Sunday morning at Yarmouth! In due time I heard the church-bells ringing, as I plodded25 on; and I met people who were going to church; and I passed a church or two where the congregation were inside, and the sound of singing came out into the sunshine, while the beadle sat and cooled himself in the shade of the porch, or stood beneath the yew-tree, with his hand to his forehead, glowering26 at me going by. But the peace and rest of the old Sunday morning were on everything, except me. That was the difference. I felt quite wicked in my dirt and dust, with my tangled27 hair. But for the quiet picture I had conjured28 up, of my mother in her youth and beauty, weeping by the fire, and my aunt relenting to her, I hardly think I should have had the courage to go on until next day. But it always went before me, and I followed.
I got, that Sunday, through three-and-twenty miles on the straight road, though not very easily, for I was new to that kind of toil29. I see myself, as evening closes in, coming over the bridge at Rochester, footsore and tired, and eating bread that I had bought for supper. One or two little houses, with the notice, 'Lodgings30 for Travellers', hanging out, had tempted31 me; but I was afraid of spending the few pence I had, and was even more afraid of the vicious looks of the trampers I had met or overtaken. I sought no shelter, therefore, but the sky; and toiling32 into Chatham, - which, in that night's aspect, is a mere33 dream of chalk, and drawbridges, and mastless ships in a muddy river, roofed like Noah's arks, - crept, at last, upon a sort of grass-grown battery overhanging a lane, where a sentry34 was walking to and fro. Here I lay down, near a cannon35; and, happy in the society of the sentry's footsteps, though he knew no more of my being above him than the boys at Salem House had known of my lying by the wall, slept soundly until morning.
Very stiff and sore of foot I was in the morning, and quite dazed by the beating of drums and marching of troops, which seemed to hem23 me in on every side when I went down towards the long narrow street. Feeling that I could go but a very little way that day, if I were to reserve any strength for getting to my journey's end, I resolved to make the sale of my jacket its principal business. Accordingly, I took the jacket off, that I might learn to do without it; and carrying it under my arm, began a tour of inspection36 of the various slop-shops.
It was a likely place to sell a jacket in; for the dealers38 in second-hand39 clothes were numerous, and were, generally speaking, on the look-out for customers at their shop doors. But as most of them had, hanging up among their stock, an officer's coat or two, epaulettes and all, I was rendered timid by the costly40 nature of their dealings, and walked about for a long time without offering my merchandise to anyone.
This modesty41 of mine directed my attention to the marine-store shops, and such shops as Mr. Dolloby's, in preference to the regular dealers. At last I found one that I thought looked promising42, at the corner of a dirty lane, ending in an enclosure full of stinging-nettles, against the palings of which some second-hand sailors' clothes, that seemed to have overflowed43 the shop, were fluttering among some cots, and rusty44 guns, and oilskin hats, and certain trays full of so many old rusty keys of so many sizes that they seemed various enough to open all the doors in the world.
Into this shop, which was low and small, and which was darkened rather than lighted by a little window, overhung with clothes, and was descended45 into by some steps, I went with a palpitating heart; which was not relieved when an ugly old man, with the lower part of his face all covered with a stubbly grey beard, rushed out of a dirty den21 behind it, and seized me by the hair of my head. He was a dreadful old man to look at, in a filthy47 flannel48 waistcoat, and smelling terribly of rum. His bedstead, covered with a tumbled and ragged49 piece of patchwork50, was in the den he had come from, where another little window showed a prospect51 of more stinging-nettles, and a lame52 donkey.
'Oh, what do you want?' grinned this old man, in a fierce, monotonous53 whine54. 'Oh, my eyes and limbs, what do you want? Oh, my lungs and liver, what do you want? Oh, goroo, goroo!'
I was so much dismayed by these words, and particularly by the repetition of the last unknown one, which was a kind of rattle55 in his throat, that I could make no answer; hereupon the old man, still holding me by the hair, repeated:
'Oh, what do you want? Oh, my eyes and limbs, what do you want? Oh, my lungs and liver, what do you want? Oh, goroo!' - which he screwed out of himself, with an energy that made his eyes start in his head.
'I wanted to know,' I said, trembling, 'if you would buy a jacket.'
'Oh, let's see the jacket!' cried the old man. 'Oh, my heart on fire, show the jacket to us! Oh, my eyes and limbs, bring the jacket out!'
With that he took his trembling hands, which were like the claws of a great bird, out of my hair; and put on a pair of spectacles, not at all ornamental56 to his inflamed57 eyes.
'Oh, how much for the jacket?' cried the old man, after examining it. 'Oh - goroo! - how much for the jacket?'
'Half-a-crown,' I answered, recovering myself.
'Oh, my lungs and liver,' cried the old man, 'no! Oh, my eyes, no! Oh, my limbs, no! Eighteenpence. Goroo!'
Every time he uttered this ejaculation, his eyes seemed to be in danger of starting out; and every sentence he spoke58, he delivered in a sort of tune59, always exactly the same, and more like a gust60 of wind, which begins low, mounts up high, and falls again, than any other comparison I can find for it.
'Well,' said I, glad to have closed the bargain, 'I'll take eighteenpence.'
'Oh, my liver!' cried the old man, throwing the jacket on a shelf. 'Get out of the shop! Oh, my lungs, get out of the shop! Oh, my eyes and limbs - goroo! - don't ask for money; make it an exchange.' I never was so frightened in my life, before or since; but I told him humbly61 that I wanted money, and that nothing else was of any use to me, but that I would wait for it, as he desired, outside, and had no wish to hurry him. So I went outside, and sat down in the shade in a corner. And I sat there so many hours, that the shade became sunlight, and the sunlight became shade again, and still I sat there waiting for the money.
There never was such another drunken madman in that line of business, I hope. That he was well known in the neighbourhood, and enjoyed the reputation of having sold himself to the devil, I soon understood from the visits he received from the boys, who continually came skirmishing about the shop, shouting that legend, and calling to him to bring out his gold. 'You ain't poor, you know, Charley, as you pretend. Bring out your gold. Bring out some of the gold you sold yourself to the devil for. Come! It's in the lining62 of the mattress63, Charley. Rip it open and let's have some!' This, and many offers to lend him a knife for the purpose, exasperated64 him to such a degree, that the whole day was a succession of rushes on his part, and flights on the part of the boys. Sometimes in his rage he would take me for one of them, and come at me, mouthing as if he were going to tear me in pieces; then, remembering me, just in time, would dive into the shop, and lie upon his bed, as I thought from the sound of his voice, yelling in a frantic65 way, to his own windy tune, the 'Death of Nelson'; with an Oh! before every line, and innumerable Goroos interspersed66. As if this were not bad enough for me, the boys, connecting me with the establishment, on account of the patience and perseverance67 with which I sat outside, half-dressed, pelted68 me, and used me very ill all day.
He made many attempts to induce me to consent to an exchange; at one time coming out with a fishing-rod, at another with a fiddle69, at another with a cocked hat, at another with a flute70. But I resisted all these overtures71, and sat there in desperation; each time asking him, with tears in my eyes, for my money or my jacket. At last he began to pay me in halfpence at a time; and was full two hours getting by easy stages to a shilling.
'Oh, my eyes and limbs!' he then cried, peeping hideously72 out of the shop, after a long pause, 'will you go for twopence more?'
'I can't,' I said; 'I shall be starved.'
'Oh, my lungs and liver, will you go for threepence?'
'I would go for nothing, if I could,' I said, 'but I want the money badly.'
'Oh, go-roo!' (it is really impossible to express how he twisted this ejaculation out of himself, as he peeped round the door-post at me, showing nothing but his crafty73 old head); 'will you go for fourpence?'
I was so faint and weary that I closed with this offer; and taking the money out of his claw, not without trembling, went away more hungry and thirsty than I had ever been, a little before sunset. But at an expense of threepence I soon refreshed myself completely; and, being in better spirits then, limped seven miles upon my road.
My bed at night was under another haystack, where I rested comfortably, after having washed my blistered74 feet in a stream, and dressed them as well as I was able, with some cool leaves. When I took the road again next morning, I found that it lay through a succession of hop-grounds and orchards75. It was sufficiently76 late in the year for the orchards to be ruddy with ripe apples; and in a few places the hop-pickers were already at work. I thought it all extremely beautiful, and made up my mind to sleep among the hops37 that night: imagining some cheerful companionship in the long perspectives of poles, with the graceful77 leaves twining round them.
The trampers were worse than ever that day, and inspired me with a dread46 that is yet quite fresh in my mind. Some of them were most ferocious-looking ruffians, who stared at me as I went by; and stopped, perhaps, and called after me to come back and speak to them, and when I took to my heels, stoned me. I recollect78 one young fellow - a tinker, I suppose, from his wallet and brazier - who had a woman with him, and who faced about and stared at me thus; and then roared to me in such a tremendous voice to come back, that I halted and looked round.
'Come here, when you're called,' said the tinker, 'or I'll rip your young body open.'
I thought it best to go back. As I drew nearer to them, trying to propitiate79 the tinker by my looks, I observed that the woman had a black eye.
'Where are you going?' said the tinker, gripping the bosom80 of my shirt with his blackened hand.
'I am going to Dover,' I said.
'Where do you come from?' asked the tinker, giving his hand another turn in my shirt, to hold me more securely.
'I come from London,' I said.
'What lay are you upon?' asked the tinker. 'Are you a prig?'
'N-no,' I said.
'Ain't you, by G--? If you make a brag81 of your honesty to me,' said the tinker, 'I'll knock your brains out.'
With his disengaged hand he made a menace of striking me, and then looked at me from head to foot.
'Have you got the price of a pint82 of beer about you?' said the tinker. 'If you have, out with it, afore I take it away!'
I should certainly have produced it, but that I met the woman's look, and saw her very slightly shake her head, and form 'No!' with her lips.
'I am very poor,' I said, attempting to smile, 'and have got no money.'
'Why, what do you mean?' said the tinker, looking so sternly at me, that I almost feared he saw the money in my pocket.
'What do you mean,' said the tinker, 'by wearing my brother's silk handkerchief! Give it over here!' And he had mine off my neck in a moment, and tossed it to the woman.
The woman burst into a fit of laughter, as if she thought this a joke, and tossed it back to me, nodded once, as slightly as before, and made the word 'Go!' with her lips. Before I could obey, however, the tinker seized the handkerchief out of my hand with a roughness that threw me away like a feather, and putting it loosely round his own neck, turned upon the woman with an oath, and knocked her down. I never shall forget seeing her fall backward on the hard road, and lie there with her bonnet85 tumbled off, and her hair all whitened in the dust; nor, when I looked back from a distance, seeing her sitting on the pathway, which was a bank by the roadside, wiping the blood from her face with a corner of her shawl, while he went on ahead.
This adventure frightened me so, that, afterwards, when I saw any of these people coming, I turned back until I could find a hiding-place, where I remained until they had gone out of sight; which happened so often, that I was very seriously delayed. But under this difficulty, as under all the other difficulties of my journey, I seemed to be sustained and led on by my fanciful picture of my mother in her youth, before I came into the world. It always kept me company. It was there, among the hops, when I lay down to sleep; it was with me on my waking in the morning; it went before me all day. I have associated it, ever since, with the sunny street of Canterbury, dozing86 as it were in the hot light; and with the sight of its old houses and gateways87, and the stately, grey Cathedral, with the rooks sailing round the towers. When I came, at last, upon the bare, wide downs near Dover, it relieved the solitary88 aspect of the scene with hope; and not until I reached that first great aim of my journey, and actually set foot in the town itself, on the sixth day of my flight, did it desert me. But then, strange to say, when I stood with my ragged shoes, and my dusty, sunburnt, half-clothed figure, in the place so long desired, it seemed to vanish like a dream, and to leave me helpless and dispirited.
I inquired about my aunt among the boatmen first, and received various answers. One said she lived in the South Foreland Light, and had singed89 her whiskers by doing so; another, that she was made fast to the great buoy90 outside the harbour, and could only be visited at half-tide; a third, that she was locked up in Maidstone jail for child-stealing; a fourth, that she was seen to mount a broom in the last high wind, and make direct for Calais. The fly-drivers, among whom I inquired next, were equally jocose91 and equally disrespectful; and the shopkeepers, not liking92 my appearance, generally replied, without hearing what I had to say, that they had got nothing for me. I felt more miserable93 and destitute94 than I had done at any period of my running away. My money was all gone, I had nothing left to dispose of; I was hungry, thirsty, and worn out; and seemed as distant from my end as if I had remained in London.
The morning had worn away in these inquiries95, and I was sitting on the step of an empty shop at a street corner, near the market-place, deliberating upon wandering towards those other places which had been mentioned, when a fly-driver, coming by with his carriage, dropped a horsecloth. Something good-natured in the man's face, as I handed it up, encouraged me to ask him if he could tell me where Miss Trotwood lived; though I had asked the question so often, that it almost died upon my lips.
'Trotwood,' said he. 'Let me see. I know the name, too. Old lady?'
'Yes,' I said, 'rather.'
'Pretty stiff in the back?' said he, making himself upright.
'Yes,' I said. 'I should think it very likely.'
'Carries a bag?' said he - 'bag with a good deal of room in it - is gruffish, and comes down upon you, sharp?'
My heart sank within me as I acknowledged the undoubted accuracy of this description.
'Why then, I tell you what,' said he. 'If you go up there,' pointing with his whip towards the heights, 'and keep right on till you come to some houses facing the sea, I think you'll hear of her. My opinion is she won't stand anything, so here's a penny for you.'
I accepted the gift thankfully, and bought a loaf with it. Dispatching this refreshment96 by the way, I went in the direction my friend had indicated, and walked on a good distance without coming to the houses he had mentioned. At length I saw some before me; and approaching them, went into a little shop (it was what we used to call a general shop, at home), and inquired if they could have the goodness to tell me where Miss Trotwood lived. I addressed myself to a man behind the counter, who was weighing some rice for a young woman; but the latter, taking the inquiry97 to herself, turned round quickly.
'My mistress?' she said. 'What do you want with her, boy?'
'I want,' I replied, 'to speak to her, if you please.'
'To beg of her, you mean,' retorted the damsel.
'No,' I said, 'indeed.' But suddenly remembering that in truth I came for no other purpose, I held my peace in confusion, and felt my face burn.
MY aunt's handmaid, as I supposed she was from what she had said, put her rice in a little basket and walked out of the shop; telling me that I could follow her, if I wanted to know where Miss Trotwood lived. I needed no second permission; though I was by this time in such a state of consternation98 and agitation99, that my legs shook under me. I followed the young woman, and we soon came to a very neat little cottage with cheerful bow-windows: in front of it, a small square gravelled court or garden full of flowers, carefully tended, and smelling deliciously.
'This is Miss Trotwood's,' said the young woman. 'Now you know; and that's all I have got to say.' With which words she hurried into the house, as if to shake off the responsibility of my appearance; and left me standing at the garden-gate, looking disconsolately101 over the top of it towards the parlour window, where a muslin curtain partly undrawn in the middle, a large round green screen or fan fastened on to the windowsill, a small table, and a great chair, suggested to me that my aunt might be at that moment seated in awful state.
My shoes were by this time in a woeful condition. The soles had shed themselves bit by bit, and the upper leathers had broken and burst until the very shape and form of shoes had departed from them. My hat (which had served me for a night-cap, too) was so crushed and bent103, that no old battered104 handleless saucepan on a dunghill need have been ashamed to vie with it. My shirt and trousers, stained with heat, dew, grass, and the Kentish soil on which I had slept - and torn besides - might have frightened the birds from my aunt's garden, as I stood at the gate. My hair had known no comb or brush since I left London. My face, neck, and hands, from unaccustomed exposure to the air and sun, were burnt to a berry-brown. From head to foot I was powdered almost as white with chalk and dust, as if I had come out of a lime-kiln. In this plight105, and with a strong consciousness of it, I waited to introduce myself to, and make my first impression on, my formidable aunt.
The unbroken stillness of the parlour window leading me to infer, after a while, that she was not there, I lifted up my eyes to the window above it, where I saw a florid, pleasant-looking gentleman, with a grey head, who shut up one eye in a grotesque106 manner, nodded his head at me several times, shook it at me as often, laughed, and went away.
I had been discomposed enough before; but I was so much the more discomposed by this unexpected behaviour, that I was on the point of slinking off, to think how I had best proceed, when there came out of the house a lady with her handkerchief tied over her cap, and a pair of gardening gloves on her hands, wearing a gardening pocket like a toll-man's apron107, and carrying a great knife. I knew her immediately to be Miss Betsey, for she came stalking out of the house exactly as my poor mother had so often described her stalking up our garden at Blunderstone Rookery.
'Go away!' said Miss Betsey, shaking her head, and making a distant chop in the air with her knife. 'Go along! No boys here!'
I watched her, with my heart at my lips, as she marched to a corner of her garden, and stooped to dig up some little root there. Then, without a scrap of courage, but with a great deal of desperation, I went softly in and stood beside her, touching108 her with my finger.
'If you please, ma'am,' I began.
She started and looked up.
'If you please, aunt.'
'EH?' exclaimed Miss Betsey, in a tone of amazement109 I have never heard approached.
'If you please, aunt, I am your nephew.'
'Oh, Lord!' said my aunt. And sat flat down in the garden-path.
'I am David Copperfield, of Blunderstone, in Suffolk - where you came, on the night when I was born, and saw my dear mama. I have been very unhappy since she died. I have been slighted, and taught nothing, and thrown upon myself, and put to work not fit for me. It made me run away to you. I was robbed at first setting out, and have walked all the way, and have never slept in a bed since I began the journey.' Here my self-support gave way all at once; and with a movement of my hands, intended to show her my ragged state, and call it to witness that I had suffered something, I broke into a passion of crying, which I suppose had been pent up within me all the week.
My aunt, with every sort of expression but wonder discharged from her countenance110, sat on the gravel100, staring at me, until I began to cry; when she got up in a great hurry, collared me, and took me into the parlour. Her first proceeding111 there was to unlock a tall press, bring out several bottles, and pour some of the contents of each into my mouth. I think they must have been taken out at random112, for I am sure I tasted aniseed water, anchovy113 sauce, and salad dressing114. When she had administered these restoratives, as I was still quite hysterical115, and unable to control my sobs116, she put me on the sofa, with a shawl under my head, and the handkerchief from her own head under my feet, lest I should sully the cover; and then, sitting herself down behind the green fan or screen I have already mentioned, so that I could not see her face, ejaculated at intervals117, 'Mercy on us!' letting those exclamations118 off like minute guns.
After a time she rang the bell. 'Janet,' said my aunt, when her servant came in. 'Go upstairs, give my compliments to Mr. Dick, and say I wish to speak to him.'
Janet looked a little surprised to see me lying stiffly on the sofa (I was afraid to move lest it should be displeasing119 to my aunt), but went on her errand. My aunt, with her hands behind her, walked up and down the room, until the gentleman who had squinted120 at me from the upper window came in laughing.
'Mr. Dick,' said my aunt, 'don't be a fool, because nobody can be more discreet121 than you can, when you choose. We all know that. So don't be a fool, whatever you are.'
The gentleman was serious immediately, and looked at me, I thought, as if he would entreat122 me to say nothing about the window.
'Mr. Dick,' said my aunt, 'you have heard me mention David Copperfield? Now don't pretend not to have a memory, because you and I know better.'
'David Copperfield?' said Mr. Dick, who did not appear to me to remember much about it. 'David Copperfield? Oh yes, to be sure. David, certainly.'
'Well,' said my aunt, 'this is his boy - his son. He would be as like his father as it's possible to be, if he was not so like his mother, too.'
'His son?' said Mr. Dick. 'David's son? Indeed!'
'Yes,' pursued my aunt, 'and he has done a pretty piece of business. He has run away. Ah! His sister, Betsey Trotwood, never would have run away.' My aunt shook her head firmly, confident in the character and behaviour of the girl who never was born.
'Oh! you think she wouldn't have run away?' said Mr. Dick.
'Bless and save the man,' exclaimed my aunt, sharply, 'how he talks! Don't I know she wouldn't? She would have lived with her god-mother, and we should have been devoted123 to one another. Where, in the name of wonder, should his sister, Betsey Trotwood, have run from, or to?'
'Nowhere,' said Mr. Dick.
'Well then,' returned my aunt, softened124 by the reply, 'how can you pretend to be wool-gathering, Dick, when you are as sharp as a surgeon's lancet? Now, here you see young David Copperfield, and the question I put to you is, what shall I do with him?'
'What shall you do with him?' said Mr. Dick, feebly, scratching his head. 'Oh! do with him?'
'Yes,' said my aunt, with a grave look, and her forefinger125 held up. 'Come! I want some very sound advice.'
'Why, if I was you,' said Mr. Dick, considering, and looking vacantly at me, 'I should -' The contemplation of me seemed to inspire him with a sudden idea, and he added, briskly, 'I should wash him!'
'Janet,' said my aunt, turning round with a quiet triumph, which I did not then understand, 'Mr. Dick sets us all right. Heat the bath!'
Although I was deeply interested in this dialogue, I could not help observing my aunt, Mr. Dick, and Janet, while it was in progress, and completing a survey I had already been engaged in making of the room.
MY aunt was a tall, hard-featured lady, but by no means ill-looking. There was an inflexibility126 in her face, in her voice, in her gait and carriage, amply sufficient to account for the effect she had made upon a gentle creature like my mother; but her features were rather handsome than otherwise, though unbending and austere127. I particularly noticed that she had a very quick, bright eye. Her hair, which was grey, was arranged in two plain divisions, under what I believe would be called a mob-cap; I mean a cap, much more common then than now, with side-pieces fastening under the chin. Her dress was of a lavender colour, and perfectly128 neat; but scantily129 made, as if she desired to be as little encumbered130 as possible. I remember that I thought it, in form, more like a riding-habit with the superfluous131 skirt cut off, than anything else. She wore at her side a gentleman's gold watch, if I might judge from its size and make, with an appropriate chain and seals; she had some linen132 at her throat not unlike a shirt-collar, and things at her wrists like little shirt-wristbands.
Mr. Dick, as I have already said, was grey-headed, and florid: I should have said all about him, in saying so, had not his head been curiously133 bowed - not by age; it reminded me of one of Mr. Creakle's boys' heads after a beating - and his grey eyes prominent and large, with a strange kind of watery134 brightness in them that made me, in combination with his vacant manner, his submission135 to my aunt, and his childish delight when she praised him, suspect him of being a little mad; though, if he were mad, how he came to be there puzzled me extremely. He was dressed like any other ordinary gentleman, in a loose grey morning coat and waistcoat, and white trousers; and had his watch in his fob, and his money in his pockets: which he rattled136 as if he were very proud of it.
Janet was a pretty blooming girl, of about nineteen or twenty, and a perfect picture of neatness. Though I made no further observation of her at the moment, I may mention here what I did not discover until afterwards, namely, that she was one of a series of protegees whom my aunt had taken into her service expressly to educate in a renouncement137 of mankind, and who had generally completed their abjuration138 by marrying the baker139.
The room was as neat as Janet or my aunt. As I laid down my pen, a moment since, to think of it, the air from the sea came blowing in again, mixed with the perfume of the flowers; and I saw the old-fashioned furniture brightly rubbed and polished, my aunt's inviolable chair and table by the round green fan in the bow-window, the drugget-covered carpet, the cat, the kettle-holder, the two canaries, the old china, the punchbowl full of dried rose-leaves, the tall press guarding all sorts of bottles and pots, and, wonderfully out of keeping with the rest, my dusty self upon the sofa, taking note of everything.
Janet had gone away to get the bath ready, when my aunt, to my great alarm, became in one moment rigid140 with indignation, and had hardly voice to cry out, 'Janet! Donkeys!'
Upon which, Janet came running up the stairs as if the house were in flames, darted141 out on a little piece of green in front, and warned off two saddle-donkeys, lady-ridden, that had presumed to set hoof142 upon it; while my aunt, rushing out of the house, seized the bridle143 of a third animal laden144 with a bestriding child, turned him, led him forth16 from those sacred precincts, and boxed the ears of the unlucky urchin145 in attendance who had dared to profane146 that hallowed ground.
To this hour I don't know whether my aunt had any lawful147 right of way over that patch of green; but she had settled it in her own mind that she had, and it was all the same to her. The one great outrage148 of her life, demanding to be constantly avenged149, was the passage of a donkey over that immaculate spot. In whatever occupation she was engaged, however interesting to her the conversation in which she was taking part, a donkey turned the current of her ideas in a moment, and she was upon him straight. Jugs150 of water, and watering-pots, were kept in secret places ready to be discharged on the offending boys; sticks were laid in ambush151 behind the door; sallies were made at all hours; and incessant152 war prevailed. Perhaps this was an agreeable excitement to the donkey-boys; or perhaps the more sagacious of the donkeys, understanding how the case stood, delighted with constitutional obstinacy153 in coming that way. I only know that there were three alarms before the bath was ready; and that on the occasion of the last and most desperate of all, I saw my aunt engage, single-handed, with a sandy-headed lad of fifteen, and bump his sandy head against her own gate, before he seemed to comprehend what was the matter. These interruptions were of the more ridiculous to me, because she was giving me broth84 out of a table-spoon at the time (having firmly persuaded herself that I was actually starving, and must receive nourishment154 at first in very small quantities), and, while my mouth was yet open to receive the spoon, she would put it back into the basin, cry 'Janet! Donkeys!' and go out to the assault.
The bath was a great comfort. For I began to be sensible of acute pains in my limbs from lying out in the fields, and was now so tired and low that I could hardly keep myself awake for five minutes together. When I had bathed, they (I mean my aunt and Janet) enrobed me in a shirt and a pair of trousers belonging to Mr. Dick, and tied me up in two or three great shawls. What sort of bundle I looked like, I don't know, but I felt a very hot one. Feeling also very faint and drowsy155, I soon lay down on the sofa again and fell asleep.
It might have been a dream, originating in the fancy which had occupied my mind so long, but I awoke with the impression that my aunt had come and bent over me, and had put my hair away from my face, and laid my head more comfortably, and had then stood looking at me. The words, 'Pretty fellow,' or 'Poor fellow,' seemed to be in my ears, too; but certainly there was nothing else, when I awoke, to lead me to believe that they had been uttered by my aunt, who sat in the bow-window gazing at the sea from behind the green fan, which was mounted on a kind of swivel, and turned any way.
We dined soon after I awoke, off a roast fowl156 and a pudding; I sitting at table, not unlike a trussed bird myself, and moving my arms with considerable difficulty. But as my aunt had swathed me up, I made no complaint of being inconvenienced. All this time I was deeply anxious to know what she was going to do with me; but she took her dinner in profound silence, except when she occasionally fixed157 her eyes on me sitting opposite, and said, 'Mercy upon us!' which did not by any means relieve my anxiety.
The cloth being drawn102, and some sherry put upon the table (of which I had a glass), my aunt sent up for Mr. Dick again, who joined us, and looked as wise as he could when she requested him to attend to my story, which she elicited158 from me, gradually, by a course of questions. During my recital159, she kept her eyes on Mr. Dick, who I thought would have gone to sleep but for that, and who, whensoever he lapsed160 into a smile, was checked by a frown from my aunt.
'Whatever possessed that poor unfortunate Baby, that she must go and be married again,' said my aunt, when I had finished, 'I can't conceive.'
'Perhaps she fell in love with her second husband,' Mr. Dick suggested.
'Fell in love!' repeated my aunt. 'What do you mean? What business had she to do it?'
'Perhaps,' Mr. Dick simpered, after thinking a little, 'she did it for pleasure.'
'Pleasure, indeed!' replied my aunt. 'A mighty161 pleasure for the poor Baby to fix her simple faith upon any dog of a fellow, certain to ill-use her in some way or other. What did she propose to herself, I should like to know! She had had one husband. She had seen David Copperfield out of the world, who was always running after wax dolls from his cradle. She had got a baby - oh, there were a pair of babies when she gave birth to this child sitting here, that Friday night! - and what more did she want?'
Mr. Dick secretly shook his head at me, as if he thought there was no getting over this.
'She couldn't even have a baby like anybody else,' said my aunt. 'Where was this child's sister, Betsey Trotwood? Not forthcoming. Don't tell me!'
Mr. Dick seemed quite frightened.
'That little man of a doctor, with his head on one side,' said my aunt, 'Jellips, or whatever his name was, what was he about? All he could do, was to say to me, like a robin162 redbreast - as he is - "It's a boy." A boy! Yah, the imbecility of the whole set of 'em!'
The heartiness163 of the ejaculation startled Mr. Dick exceedingly; and me, too, if I am to tell the truth.
'And then, as if this was not enough, and she had not stood sufficiently in the light of this child's sister, Betsey Trotwood,' said my aunt, 'she marries a second time - goes and marries a Murderer - or a man with a name like it - and stands in THIS child's light! And the natural consequence is, as anybody but a baby might have foreseen, that he prowls and wanders. He's as like Cain before he was grown up, as he can be.'
Mr. Dick looked hard at me, as if to identify me in this character.
'And then there's that woman with the Pagan name,' said my aunt, 'that Peggotty, she goes and gets married next. Because she has not seen enough of the evil attending such things, she goes and gets married next, as the child relates. I only hope,' said my aunt, shaking her head, 'that her husband is one of those Poker164 husbands who abound165 in the newspapers, and will beat her well with one.'
I could not bear to hear my old nurse so decried166, and made the subject of such a wish. I told my aunt that indeed she was mistaken. That Peggotty was the best, the truest, the most faithful, most devoted, and most self-denying friend and servant in the world; who had ever loved me dearly, who had ever loved my mother dearly; who had held my mother's dying head upon her arm, on whose face my mother had imprinted167 her last grateful kiss. And my remembrance of them both, choking me, I broke down as I was trying to say that her home was my home, and that all she had was mine, and that I would have gone to her for shelter, but for her humble168 station, which made me fear that I might bring some trouble on her - I broke down, I say, as I was trying to say so, and laid my face in my hands upon the table.
'Well, well!' said my aunt, 'the child is right to stand by those who have stood by him - Janet! Donkeys!'
I thoroughly169 believe that but for those unfortunate donkeys, we should have come to a good understanding; for my aunt had laid her hand on my shoulder, and the impulse was upon me, thus emboldened170, to embrace her and beseech171 her protection. But the interruption, and the disorder172 she was thrown into by the struggle outside, put an end to all softer ideas for the present, and kept my aunt indignantly declaiming to Mr. Dick about her determination to appeal for redress173 to the laws of her country, and to bring actions for trespass174 against the whole donkey proprietorship175 of Dover, until tea-time.
After tea, we sat at the window - on the look-out, as I imagined, from my aunt's sharp expression of face, for more invaders176 - until dusk, when Janet set candles, and a backgammon-board, on the table, and pulled down the blinds.
'Now, Mr. Dick,' said my aunt, with her grave look, and her forefinger up as before, 'I am going to ask you another question. Look at this child.'
'David's son?' said Mr. Dick, with an attentive177, puzzled face.
'Exactly so,' returned my aunt. 'What would you do with him, now?'
'Do with David's son?' said Mr. Dick.
'Ay,' replied my aunt, 'with David's son.'
'Oh!' said Mr. Dick. 'Yes. Do with - I should put him to bed.'
'Janet!' cried my aunt, with the same complacent178 triumph that I had remarked before. 'Mr. Dick sets us all right. If the bed is ready, we'll take him up to it.'
Janet reporting it to be quite ready, I was taken up to it; kindly179, but in some sort like a prisoner; my aunt going in front and Janet bringing up the rear. The only circumstance which gave me any new hope, was my aunt's stopping on the stairs to inquire about a smell of fire that was prevalent there; and janet's replying that she had been making tinder down in the kitchen, of my old shirt. But there were no other clothes in my room than the odd heap of things I wore; and when I was left there, with a little taper180 which my aunt forewarned me would burn exactly five minutes, I heard them lock my door on the outside. Turning these things over in my mind I deemed it possible that my aunt, who could know nothing of me, might suspect I had a habit of running away, and took precautions, on that account, to have me in safe keeping.
The room was a pleasant one, at the top of the house, overlooking the sea, on which the moon was shining brilliantly. After I had said my prayers, and the candle had burnt out, I remember how I still sat looking at the moonlight on the water, as if I could hope to read my fortune in it, as in a bright book; or to see my mother with her child, coming from Heaven, along that shining path, to look upon me as she had looked when I last saw her sweet face. I remember how the solemn feeling with which at length I turned my eyes away, yielded to the sensation of gratitude181 and rest which the sight of the white-curtained bed - and how much more the lying softly down upon it, nestling in the snow-white sheets! - inspired. I remember how I thought of all the solitary places under the night sky where I had slept, and how I prayed that I never might be houseless any more, and never might forget the houseless. I remember how I seemed to float, then, down the melancholy182 glory of that track upon the sea, away into the world of dreams.
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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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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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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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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jaded
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| adj.精疲力竭的；厌倦的；（因过饱或过多而）腻烦的；迟钝的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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lurked
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| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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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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wayfarer
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| n.旅人 | |
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plodded
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| v.沉重缓慢地走（路）( plod的过去式和过去分词 )；努力从事；沉闷地苦干；缓慢进行（尤指艰难枯燥的工作） | |
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glowering
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| v.怒视( glower的现在分词 ) | |
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tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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conjured
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| 用魔术变出( conjure的过去式和过去分词 )； 祈求，恳求； 变戏法； （变魔术般地） 使…出现 | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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toiling
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的现在分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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sentry
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| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
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cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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hops
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| 跳上[下]( hop的第三人称单数 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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dealers
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| n.商人( dealer的名词复数 )；贩毒者；毒品贩子；发牌者 | |
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second-hand
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| adj.用过的，旧的，二手的 | |
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costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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43
overflowed
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| 溢出的 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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45
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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46
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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47
filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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48
flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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patchwork
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| n.混杂物；拼缝物 | |
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51
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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52
lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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54
whine
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| v.哀号，号哭；n.哀鸣 | |
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55
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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56
ornamental
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| adj.装饰的；作装饰用的；n.装饰品；观赏植物 | |
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57
inflamed
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| adj.发炎的，红肿的v.（使）变红，发怒，过热( inflame的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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58
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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tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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62
lining
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| n.衬里，衬料 | |
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mattress
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| n.床垫，床褥 | |
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64
exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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interspersed
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| adj.[医]散开的；点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
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67
perseverance
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| n.坚持不懈，不屈不挠 | |
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68
pelted
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| （连续地）投掷( pelt的过去式和过去分词 )； 连续抨击； 攻击； 剥去…的皮 | |
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69
fiddle
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| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
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70
flute
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| n.长笛；v.吹笛 | |
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71
overtures
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| n.主动的表示，提议；（向某人做出的）友好表示、姿态或提议( overture的名词复数 )；（歌剧、芭蕾舞、音乐剧等的）序曲，前奏曲 | |
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72
hideously
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| adv.可怕地，非常讨厌地 | |
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73
crafty
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| adj.狡猾的，诡诈的 | |
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74
blistered
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| adj.水疮状的，泡状的v.（使）起水泡( blister的过去式和过去分词 )；（使表皮等）涨破，爆裂 | |
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75
orchards
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| （通常指围起来的）果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
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76
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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77
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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78
recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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79
propitiate
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| v.慰解，劝解 | |
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80
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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81
brag
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| v./n.吹牛，自夸；adj.第一流的 | |
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82
pint
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| n.品脱 | |
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83
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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84
broth
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| n.原(汁)汤(鱼汤、肉汤、菜汤等) | |
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85
bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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86
dozing
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| v.打瞌睡,假寐 n.瞌睡 | |
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87
gateways
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| n.网关( gateway的名词复数 )；门径；方法；大门口 | |
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88
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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89
singed
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| v.浅表烧焦( singe的过去式和过去分词 )；（毛发）燎，烧焦尖端[边儿] | |
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90
buoy
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| n.浮标；救生圈；v.支持，鼓励 | |
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91
jocose
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| adj.开玩笑的，滑稽的 | |
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92
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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93
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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94
destitute
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| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
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95
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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96
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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97
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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98
consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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99
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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100
gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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101
disconsolately
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| adv.悲伤地，愁闷地；哭丧着脸 | |
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102
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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103
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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104
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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105
plight
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| n.困境，境况，誓约，艰难；vt.宣誓，保证，约定 | |
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106
grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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107
apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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108
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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109
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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110
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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111
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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112
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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113
anchovy
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| n.凤尾鱼 | |
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114
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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115
hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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116
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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117
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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118
exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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119
displeasing
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| 不愉快的，令人发火的 | |
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120
squinted
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| 斜视( squint的过去式和过去分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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121
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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122
entreat
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| v.恳求，恳请 | |
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123
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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124
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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125
forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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126
inflexibility
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| n.不屈性，顽固，不变性；不可弯曲；非挠性；刚性 | |
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127
austere
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| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
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128
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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129
scantily
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| adv.缺乏地；不充足地；吝啬地；狭窄地 | |
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130
encumbered
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| v.妨碍，阻碍，拖累( encumber的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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131
superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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132
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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133
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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134
watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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135
submission
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| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
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136
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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137
renouncement
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| n.否认，拒绝 | |
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138
abjuration
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| n.发誓弃绝 | |
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139
baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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140
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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141
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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142
hoof
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| n.(马，牛等的)蹄 | |
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143
bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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144
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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145
urchin
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| n.顽童；海胆 | |
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146
profane
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| adj.亵神的，亵渎的；vt.亵渎，玷污 | |
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147
lawful
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| adj.法律许可的，守法的，合法的 | |
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148
outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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149
avenged
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| v.为…复仇，报…之仇( avenge的过去式和过去分词 )；为…报复 | |
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150
jugs
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| （有柄及小口的）水壶( jug的名词复数 ) | |
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151
ambush
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| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
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152
incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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153
obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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154
nourishment
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| n.食物，营养品；营养情况 | |
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155
drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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156
fowl
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| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
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157
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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158
elicited
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| 引出，探出( elicit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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159
recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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160
lapsed
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| adj.流失的，堕落的v.退步( lapse的过去式和过去分词 )；陷入；倒退；丧失 | |
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161
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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162
robin
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| n.知更鸟，红襟鸟 | |
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163
heartiness
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| 诚实，热心 | |
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164
poker
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| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
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165
abound
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| vi.大量存在；(in，with)充满，富于 | |
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166
decried
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| v.公开反对，谴责( decry的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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167
imprinted
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| v.盖印（imprint的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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168
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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169
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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170
emboldened
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| v.鼓励，使有胆量( embolden的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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171
beseech
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| v.祈求，恳求 | |
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172
disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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173
redress
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| n.赔偿，救济，矫正；v.纠正，匡正，革除 | |
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174
trespass
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| n./v.侵犯，闯入私人领地 | |
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175
proprietorship
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| n.所有（权）；所有权 | |
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176
invaders
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| 入侵者，侵略者，侵入物( invader的名词复数 ) | |
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177
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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178
complacent
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| adj.自满的；自鸣得意的 | |
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179
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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180
taper
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| n.小蜡烛，尖细，渐弱；adj.尖细的；v.逐渐变小 | |
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181
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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182
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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