Towns as planless as a scattering4 of pasteboard boxes on an attic5 floor. The stretch of faded gold stubble broken only by clumps6 of willows7 encircling white houses and red barns.
No. 7, the way train, grumbling8 through Minnesota, imperceptibly climbing the giant tableland that slopes in a thousand-mile rise from hot Mississippi bottoms to the Rockies.
It is September, hot, very dusty.
There is no smug Pullman attached to the train, and the day coaches of the East are replaced by free chair cars, with each seat cut into two adjustable9 plush chairs, the head-rests covered with doubtful linen10 towels. Halfway11 down the car is a semi-partition of carved oak columns, but the aisle12 is of bare, splintery, grease-blackened wood. There is no porter, no pillows, no provision for beds, but all today and all tonight they will ride in this long steel box-farmers with perpetually tired wives and children who seem all to be of the same age; workmen going to new jobs; traveling salesmen with derbies and freshly shined shoes.
They are parched13 and cramped14, the lines of their hands filled with grime; they go to sleep curled in distorted attitudes, heads against the window-panes or propped15 on rolled coats on seat- arms, and legs thrust into the aisle. They do not read; apparently16 they do not think. They wait. An early-wrinkled, young-old mother, moving as though her joints17 were dry, opens a suit-case in which are seen creased18 blouses, a pair of slippers19 worn through at the toes, a bottle of patent medicine, a tin cup, a paper-covered book about dreams which the news- butcher has coaxed20 her into buying. She brings out a graham cracker21 which she feeds to a baby lying flat on a seat and wailing22 hopelessly. Most of the crumbs24 drop on the red plush of the seat, and the woman sighs and tries to brush them away, but they leap up impishly and fall back on the plush.
A soiled man and woman munch25 sandwiches and throw the crusts on the floor. A large brick-colored Norwegian takes off his shoes, grunts26 in relief, and props27 his feet in their thick gray socks against the seat in front of him.
An old woman whose toothless mouth shuts like a mud- turtle’s, and whose hair is not so much white as yellow like moldy28 linen, with bands of pink skull29 apparent between the tresses, anxiously lifts her bag, opens it, peers in, closes it, puts it under the seat, and hastily picks it up and opens it and hides it all over again. The bag is full of treasures and of memories: a leather buckle30, an ancient band-concert program, scraps31 of ribbon, lace, satin. In the aisle beside her is an extremely indignant parrakeet in a cage.
Two facing seats, overflowing32 with a Slovene iron-miner’s family, are littered with shoes, dolls, whisky bottles, bundles wrapped in newspapers, a sewing bag. The oldest boy takes a mouth-organ out of his coat pocket, wipes the tobacco crumbs off, and plays “Marching through Georgia” till every head in the car begins to ache.
The news-butcher comes through selling chocolate bars and lemon drops. A girl-child ceaselessly trots33 down to the water- cooler and back to her seat. The stiff paper envelope which she uses for cup drips in the aisle as she goes, and on each trip she stumbles over the feet of a carpenter, who grunts, “Ouch! Look out!”
The dust-caked doors are open, and from the smoking-car drifts back a visible blue line of stinging tobacco smoke, and with it a crackle of laughter over the story which the young man in the bright blue suit and lavender tie and light yellow shoes has just told to the squat34 man in garage overalls35.
The smell grows constantly thicker, more stale.
II
To each of the passengers his seat was his temporary home, and most of the passengers were slatternly housekeepers37. But one seat looked clean and deceptively cool. In it were an obviously prosperous man and a black-haired, fine-skinned girl whose pumps rested on an immaculate horsehide bag.
They were Dr. Will Kennicott and his bride, Carol.
They had been married at the end of a year of conversational38 courtship, and they were on their way to Gopher Prairie after a wedding journey in the Colorado mountains.
The hordes39 of the way-train were not altogether new to Carol. She had seen them on trips from St. Paul to Chicago. But now that they had become her own people, to bathe and encourage and adorn40, she had an acute and uncomfortable interest in them. They distressed41 her. They were so stolid42. She had always maintained that there is no American peasantry, and she sought now to defend her faith by seeing imagination and enterprise in the young Swedish farmers, and in a traveling man working over his order-blanks. But the older people, Yankees as well as Norwegians, Germans, Finns, Canucks, had settled into submission43 to poverty. They were peasants, she groaned44.
“Isn’t there any way of waking them up? What would happen if they understood scientific agriculture?” she begged of Kennicott, her hand groping for his.
It had been a transforming honeymoon45. She had been frightened to discover how tumultuous a feeling could be roused in her. Will had been lordly — stalwart, jolly, impressively competent in making camp, tender and understanding through the hours when they had lain side by side in a tent pitched among pines high up on a lonely mountain spur.
His hand swallowed hers as he started from thoughts of the practise to which he was returning. “These people? Wake ’em up? What for? They’re happy.”
“But they’re so provincial46. No, that isn’t what I mean. They’re — oh, so sunk in the mud.”
“Look here, Carrie. You want to get over your city idea that because a man’s pants aren’t pressed, he’s a fool. These farmers are mighty47 keen and up-and-coming.”
“I know! That’s what hurts. Life seems so hard for them — these lonely farms and this gritty train.”
“Oh, they don’t mind it. Besides, things are changing. The auto48, the telephone, rural free delivery; they’re bringing the farmers in closer touch with the town. Takes time, you know, to change a wilderness49 like this was fifty years ago. But already, why, they can hop23 into the Ford50 or the Overland and get in to the movies on Saturday evening quicker than you could get down to ’em by trolley51 in St. Paul.”
“But if it’s these towns we’ve been passing that the farmers run to for relief from their bleakness52 Can’t you understand? Just LOOK at them!”
Kennicott was amazed. Ever since childhood he had seen these towns from trains on this same line. He grumbled53, “Why, what’s the matter with ’em? Good hustling54 burgs. It would astonish you to know how much wheat and rye and corn and potatoes they ship in a year.”
“But they’re so ugly.”
“I’ll admit they aren’t comfy like Gopher Prairie. But give ’em time.”
“What’s the use of giving them time unless some one has desire and training enough to plan them? Hundreds of factories trying to make attractive motor cars, but these towns — left to chance. No! That can’t be true. It must have taken genius to make them so scrawny!”
“Oh, they’re not so bad,” was all he answered. He pretended that his hand was the cat and hers the mouse. For the first time she tolerated him rather than encouraged him. She was staring out at Schoenstrom, a hamlet of perhaps a hundred and fifty inhabitants, at which the train was stopping.
A bearded German and his pucker-mouthed wife tugged55 their enormous imitation-leather satchel56 from under a seat and waddled57 out. The station agent hoisted58 a dead calf59 aboard the baggage-car. There were no other visible activities in Schoenstrom. In the quiet of the halt, Carol could hear a horse kicking his stall, a carpenter shingling60 a roof.
The business-center of Schoenstrom took up one side of one block, facing the railroad. It was a row of one-story shops covered with galvanized iron, or with clapboards painted red and bilious61 yellow. The buildings were as ill-assorted, as temporary-looking, as a mining-camp street in the motion-pictures. The railroad station was a one-room frame box, a mirey cattle- pen on one side and a crimson62 wheat-elevator on the other. The elevator, with its cupola on the ridge63 of a shingled64 roof, resembled a broad-shouldered man with a small, vicious, pointed65 head. The only habitable structures to be seen were the florid red-brick Catholic church and rectory at the end of Main Street.
Carol picked at Kennicott’s sleeve. “You wouldn’t call this a not-so-bad town, would you?”
“These Dutch burgs ARE kind of slow. Still, at that —— See that fellow coming out of the general store there, getting into the big car? I met him once. He owns about half the town, besides the store. Rauskukle, his name is. He owns a lot of mortgages, and he gambles in farm-lands. Good nut on him, that fellow. Why, they say he’s worth three or four hundred thousand dollars! Got a dandy great big yellow brick house with tiled walks and a garden and everything, other end of town — can’t see it from here — I’ve gone past it when I’ve driven through here. Yes sir!”
“Then, if he has all that, there’s no excuse whatever for this place! If his three hundred thousand went back into the town, where it belongs, they could burn up these shacks67, and build a dream-village, a jewel! Why do the farmers and the town- people let the Baron68 keep it?”
“I must say I don’t quite get you sometimes, Carrie. Let him? They can’t help themselves! He’s a dumm old Dutchman, and probably the priest can twist him around his finger, but when it comes to picking good farming land, he’s a regular wiz!”
“I see. He’s their symbol of beauty. The town erects69 him, instead of erecting70 buildings.”
“Honestly, don’t know what you’re driving at. You’re kind of played out, after this long trip. You’ll feel better when you get home and have a good bath, and put on the blue negligee. That’s some vampire71 costume, you witch!”
He squeezed her arm, looked at her knowingly.
They moved on from the desert stillness of the Schoenstrom station. The train creaked, banged, swayed. The air was nauseatingly72 thick. Kennicott turned her face from the window, rested her head on his shoulder. She was coaxed from her unhappy mood. But she came out of it unwillingly73, and when Kennicott was satisfied that he had corrected all her worries and had opened a magazine of saffron detective stories, she sat upright.
Here — she meditated74 — is the newest empire of the world; the Northern Middlewest; a land of dairy herds75 and exquisite76 lakes, of new automobiles77 and tar-paper shanties78 and silos likes red towers, of clumsy speech and a hope that is boundless79. An empire which feeds a quarter of the world — yet its work is merely begun. They are pioneers, these sweaty wayfarers80, for all their telephones and bank-accounts and automatic pianos and co-operative leagues. And for all its fat richness, theirs is a pioneer land. What is its future? she wondered. A future of cities and factory smut where now are loping empty fields? Homes universal and secure? Or placid81 chateaux ringed with sullen82 huts? Youth free to find knowledge and laughter? Willingness to sift83 the sanctified lies? Or creamy- skinned fat women, smeared84 with grease and chalk, gorgeous in the skins of beasts and the bloody85 feathers of slain86 birds, playing bridge with puffy pink-nailed jeweled fingers, women who after much expenditure87 of labor88 and bad temper still grotesquely89 resemble their own flatulent lap-dogs? The ancient stale inequalities, or something different in history, unlike the tedious maturity90 of other empires? What future and what hope?
Carol’s head ached with the riddle91.
She saw the prairie, flat in giant patches or rolling in long hummocks92. The width and bigness of it, which had expanded her spirit an hour ago, began to frighten her. It spread out so; it went on so uncontrollably; she could never know it. Kennicott was closeted in his detective story. With the loneliness which comes most depressingly in the midst of many people she tried to forget problems, to look at the prairie objectively.
The grass beside the railroad had been burnt over; it was a smudge prickly with charred93 stalks of weeds. Beyond the undeviating barbed-wire fences were clumps of golden rod. Only this thin hedge shut them off from the plains-shorn wheat-lands of autumn, a hundred acres to a field, prickly and gray near-by but in the blurred94 distance like tawny95 velvet96 stretched over dipping hillocks. The long rows of wheat- shocks marched like soldiers in worn yellow tabards. The newly plowed97 fields were black banners fallen on the distant slope. It was a martial98 immensity, vigorous, a little harsh, unsoftened by kindly99 gardens.
The expanse was relieved by clumps of oaks with patches of short wild grass; and every mile or two was a chain of cobalt slews100, with the flicker101 of blackbirds’ wings across them.
All this working land was turned into exuberance102 by the light. The sunshine was dizzy on open stubble; shadows from immense cumulus clouds were forever sliding across low mounds103; and the sky was wider and loftier and more resolutely104 blue than the sky of cities. . .she declared.
“It’s a glorious country; a land to be big in,” she crooned.
Then Kennicott startled her by chuckling105, “D’ you realize the town after the next is Gopher Prairie? Home!”
III
That one word — home — it terrified her. Had she really bound herself to live, inescapably, in this town called Gopher Prairie? And this thick man beside her, who dared to define her future, he was a stranger! She turned in her seat, stared at him. Who was he? Why was he sitting with her? He wasn’t of her kind! His neck was heavy; his speech was heavy; he was twelve or thirteen years older than she; and about him was none of the magic of shared adventures and eagerness. She could not believe that she had ever slept in his arms. That was one of the dreams which you had but did not officially admit.
She told herself how good he was, how dependable and understanding. She touched his ear, smoothed the plane of his solid jaw106, and, turning away again, concentrated upon liking107 his town. It wouldn’t be like these barren settlements. It couldn’t be! Why, it had three thousand population. That was a great many people. There would be six hundred houses or more. And —— The lakes near it would be so lovely. She’d seen them in the photographs. They had looked charming. . .hadn’t they?
As the train left Wahkeenyan she began nervously108 to watch for the lakes — the entrance to all her future life. But when she discovered them, to the left of the track, her only impression of them was that they resembled the photographs.
A mile from Gopher Prairie the track mounts a curving low ridge, and she could see the town as a whole. With a passionate109 jerk she pushed up the window, looked out, the arched fingers of her left hand trembling on the sill, her right hand at her breast.
And she saw that Gopher Prairie was merely an enlargement of all the hamlets which they had been passing. Only to the eyes of a Kennicott was it exceptional. The huddled110 low wooden houses broke the plains scarcely more than would a hazel thicket111. The fields swept up to it, past it. It was unprotected and unprotecting; there was no dignity in it nor any hope of greatness. Only the tall red grain-elevator and a few tinny church-steeples rose from the mass. It was a frontier camp. It was not a place to live in, not possibly, not conceivably.
The people — they’d be as drab as their houses, as flat as their fields. She couldn’t stay here. She would have to wrench112 loose from this man, and flee.
She peeped at him. She was at once helpless before his mature fixity, and touched by his excitement as he sent his magazine skittering along the aisle, stooped for their bags, came up with flushed face, and gloated, “Here we are!”
She smiled loyally, and looked away. The train was entering town. The houses on the outskirts113 were dusky old red mansions114 with wooden frills, or gaunt frame shelters like grocery boxes, or new bungalows115 with concrete foundations imitating stone.
Now the train was passing the elevator, the grim storage- tanks for oil, a creamery, a lumber-yard, a stock-yard muddy and trampled116 and stinking117. Now they were stopping at a squat red frame station, the platform crowded with unshaven farmers and with loafers — unadventurous people with dead eyes. She was here. She could not go on. It was the end — the end of the world. She sat with closed eyes, longing118 to push past Kennicott, hide somewhere in the train, flee on toward the Pacific.
Something large arose in her soul and commanded, “Stop it! Stop being a whining119 baby!” She stood up quickly; she said, “Isn’t it wonderful to be here at last!”
He trusted her so. She would make herself like the place. And she was going to do tremendous things ——
She followed Kennicott and the bobbing ends of the two bags which he carried. They were held back by the slow line of disembarking passengers. She reminded herself that she was actually at the dramatic moment of the bride’s home-coming. She ought to feel exalted120. She felt nothing at all except irritation121 at their slow progress toward the door.
Kennicott stooped to peer through the windows. He shyly exulted122:
“Look! Look! There’s a bunch come down to welcome us! Sam Clark and the missus and Dave Dyer and Jack123 Elder, and, yes sir, Harry124 Haydock and Juanita, and a whole crowd! I guess they see us now. Yuh, yuh sure, they see us! See ’em waving!”
She obediently bent125 her head to look out at them. She had hold of herself. She was ready to love them. But she was embarrassed by the heartiness126 of the cheering group. From the vestibule she waved to them, but she clung a second to the sleeve of the brakeman who helped her down before she had the courage to dive into the cataract127 of hand-shaking people, people whom she could not tell apart. She had the impression that all the men had coarse voices, large damp hands, tooth- brush mustaches, bald spots, and Masonic watch-charms.
She knew that they were welcoming her. Their hands, their smiles, their shouts, their affectionate eyes overcame her. She stammered128, “Thank you, oh, thank you!”
One of the men was clamoring at Kennicott, “I brought my machine down to take you home, doc.”
“Fine business, Sam!” cried Kennicott; and, to Carol, “Let’s jump in. That big Paige over there. Some boat, too, believe me! Sam can show speed to any of these Marmons from Minneapolis!”
Only when she was in the motor car did she distinguish the three people who were to accompany them. The owner, now at the wheel, was the essence of decent self-satisfaction; a baldish, largish, level-eyed man, rugged129 of neck but sleek130 and round of face — face like the back of a spoon bowl. He was chuckling at her, “Have you got us all straight yet?”
“Course she has! Trust Carrie to get things straight and get ’em darn quick! I bet she could tell you every date in history!” boasted her husband.
But the man looked at her reassuringly131 and with a certainty that he was a person whom she could trust she confessed, “As a matter of fact I haven’t got anybody straight.”
“Course you haven’t, child. Well, I’m Sam Clark, dealer132 in hardware, sporting goods, cream separators, and almost any kind of heavy junk you can think of. You can call me Sam — anyway, I’m going to call you Carrie, seein’ ‘s you’ve been and gone and married this poor fish of a bum133 medic that we keep round here.” Carol smiled lavishly134, and wished that she called people by their given names more easily. “The fat cranky lady back there beside you, who is pretending that she can’t hear me giving her away, is Mrs. Sam’l Clark; and this hungry-looking squirt up here beside me is Dave Dyer, who keeps his drug store running by not filling your hubby’s prescriptions135 right — fact you might say he’s the guy that put the ‘shun’ in ‘prescription.’ So! Well, leave us take the bonny bride home. Say, doc, I’ll sell you the Candersen place for three thousand plunks. Better be thinking about building a new home for Carrie. Prettiest Frau in G. P., if you asks me!”
Contentedly136 Sam Clark drove off, in the heavy traffic of three Fords and the Mirmiemashie House Free ‘Bus.
“I shall like Mr. Clark. . .I CAN’T call him ‘Sam’! They’re all so friendly.” She glanced at the houses; tried not to see what she saw; gave way in: “Why do these stories lie so? They always make the bride’s home-coming a bower137 of roses. Complete trust in noble spouse138. Lies about marriage. I’m NOT changed. And this town — O my God! I can’t go through with it. This junk-heap!”
Her husband bent over her. “You look like you were in a brown study. Scared? I don’t expect you to think Gopher Prairie is a paradise, after St. Paul. I don’t expect you to be crazy about it, at first. But you’ll come to like it so much — life’s so free here and best people on earth.”
She whispered to him (while Mrs. Clark considerately turned away), “I love you for understanding. I’m just — I’m beastly over-sensitive. Too many books. It’s my lack of shoulder-muscles and sense. Give me time, dear.”
“You bet! All the time you want!”
She laid the back of his hand against her cheek, snuggled near him. She was ready for her new home.
Kennicott had told her that, with his widowed mother as housekeeper36, he had occupied an old house, “but nice and roomy, and well-heated, best furnace I could find on the market.” His mother had left Carol her love, and gone back to Lac-qui-Meurt.
It would be wonderful, she exulted, not to have to live in Other People’s Houses, but to make her own shrine139. She held his hand tightly and stared ahead as the car swung round a corner and stopped in the street before a prosaic140 frame house in a small parched lawn.
IV
A concrete sidewalk with a “parking” of grass and mud. A square smug brown house, rather damp. A narrow concrete walk up to it. Sickly yellow leaves in a windrow with dried wings of box-elder seeds and snags of wool from the cotton- woods. A screened porch with pillars of thin painted pine surmounted141 by scrolls142 and brackets and bumps of jigsawed143 wood. No shrubbery to shut off the public gaze. A lugubrious144 bay-window to the right of the porch. Window curtains of starched145 cheap lace revealing a pink marble table with a conch shell and a Family Bible.
“You’ll find it old-fashioned — what do you call it? — Mid- Victorian. I left it as is, so you could make any changes you felt were necessary.” Kennicott sounded doubtful for the first time since he had come back to his own.
“It’s a real home!” She was moved by his humility146. She gaily147 motioned good-by to the Clarks. He unlocked the door — he was leaving the choice of a maid to her, and there was no one in the house. She jiggled while he turned the key, and scampered148 in. . . . It was next day before either of them remembered that in their honeymoon camp they had planned that he should carry her over the sill.
In hallway and front parlor149 she was conscious of dinginess150 and lugubriousness151 and airlessness, but she insisted, “I’ll make it all jolly.” As she followed Kennicott and the bags up to their bedroom she quavered to herself the song of the fat little-gods of the hearth152:
I have my own home,
To do what I please with,
To do what I please with,
My den66 for me and my mate and my cubs153,
My own!
She was close in her husband’s arms; she clung to him; whatever of strangeness and slowness and insularity154 she might find in him, none of that mattered so long as she could slip her hands beneath his coat, run her fingers over the warm smoothness of the satin back of his waistcoat, seem almost to creep into his body, find in him strength, find in the courage and kindness of her man a shelter from the perplexing world.
“Sweet, so sweet,” she whispered.
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irritable
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| adj.急躁的；过敏的；易怒的 | |
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rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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clumps
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| n.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的名词复数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声v.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的第三人称单数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声 | |
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willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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adjustable
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| adj.可调整的，可校准的 | |
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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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halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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propped
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| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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joints
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| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
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creased
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| （使…）起折痕，弄皱( crease的过去式和过去分词 )； （皮肤）皱起，使起皱纹； 皱皱巴巴 | |
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slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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coaxed
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| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的过去式和过去分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱 | |
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cracker
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| n.（无甜味的）薄脆饼干 | |
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wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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crumbs
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| int. (表示惊讶)哎呀 n. 碎屑 名词crumb的复数形式 | |
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munch
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| v.用力嚼，大声咀嚼 | |
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grunts
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的第三人称单数 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说； 石鲈 | |
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props
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| 小道具； 支柱( prop的名词复数 )； 支持者； 道具； （橄榄球中的）支柱前锋 | |
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28
moldy
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| adj.发霉的 | |
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29
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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30
buckle
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| n.扣子，带扣；v.把...扣住，由于压力而弯曲 | |
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31
scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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32
overflowing
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| n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的，充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
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33
trots
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| 小跑，急走( trot的名词复数 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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34
squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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35
overalls
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| n.（复）工装裤；长罩衣 | |
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36
housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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37
housekeepers
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| n.（女）管家( housekeeper的名词复数 ) | |
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38
conversational
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| adj.对话的，会话的 | |
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39
hordes
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| n.移动着的一大群( horde的名词复数 )；部落 | |
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40
adorn
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| vt.使美化，装饰 | |
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41
distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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42
stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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43
submission
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| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
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44
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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45
honeymoon
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|
| n.蜜月（假期）；vi.度蜜月 | |
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46
provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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47
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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48
auto
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| n.(=automobile)(口语)汽车 | |
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49
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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50
Ford
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|
| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
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51
trolley
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| n.手推车，台车；无轨电车；有轨电车 | |
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52
bleakness
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|
| adj. 萧瑟的, 严寒的, 阴郁的 | |
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53
grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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54
hustling
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| 催促（hustle的现在分词形式） | |
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55
tugged
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| v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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56
satchel
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| n.(皮或帆布的)书包 | |
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57
waddled
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| v.（像鸭子一样）摇摇摆摆地走( waddle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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58
hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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59
calf
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| n.小牛，犊，幼仔，小牛皮 | |
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60
shingling
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| 压挤熟铁块，叠瓦作用 | |
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61
bilious
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| adj.胆汁过多的；易怒的 | |
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62
crimson
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|
| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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63
ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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64
shingled
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| adj.盖木瓦的；贴有墙面板的v.用木瓦盖(shingle的过去式和过去分词形式) | |
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65
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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66
den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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67
shacks
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| n.窝棚，简陋的小屋( shack的名词复数 ) | |
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68
baron
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|
| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
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69
erects
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| v.使直立，竖起( erect的第三人称单数 )；建立 | |
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70
erecting
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| v.使直立，竖起( erect的现在分词 )；建立 | |
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71
vampire
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| n.吸血鬼 | |
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72
nauseatingly
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|
| adj.令人恶心的，使人厌恶的v.使恶心，作呕( nauseate的现在分词 ) | |
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73
unwillingly
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| adv.不情愿地 | |
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74
meditated
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| 深思，沉思，冥想( meditate的过去式和过去分词 )； 内心策划，考虑 | |
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75
herds
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| 兽群( herd的名词复数 )； 牧群； 人群； 群众 | |
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76
exquisite
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|
| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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77
automobiles
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|
| n.汽车( automobile的名词复数 ) | |
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78
shanties
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|
| n.简陋的小木屋( shanty的名词复数 )；铁皮棚屋；船工号子；船歌 | |
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79
boundless
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|
| adj.无限的；无边无际的；巨大的 | |
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80
wayfarers
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|
| n.旅人，（尤指）徒步旅行者( wayfarer的名词复数 ) | |
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81
placid
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|
| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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82
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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83
sift
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|
| v.筛撒，纷落，详察 | |
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84
smeared
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| 弄脏； 玷污； 涂抹； 擦上 | |
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85
bloody
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|
| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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86
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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87
expenditure
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| n.(时间、劳力、金钱等)支出；使用，消耗 | |
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88
labor
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|
| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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89
grotesquely
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|
| adv. 奇异地,荒诞地 | |
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90
maturity
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|
| n.成熟；完成；(支票、债券等)到期 | |
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91
riddle
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|
| n.谜，谜语，粗筛；vt.解谜，给…出谜，筛，检查，鉴定，非难，充满于；vi.出谜 | |
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92
hummocks
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|
| n.小丘，岗( hummock的名词复数 ) | |
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93
charred
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|
| v.把…烧成炭( char的过去式)；烧焦 | |
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94
blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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95
tawny
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|
| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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96
velvet
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|
| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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97
plowed
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| v.耕( plow的过去式和过去分词 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
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98
martial
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|
| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
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99
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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100
slews
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| n.许多，大量( slew的名词复数 )v.螫伤，刺伤( sting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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101
flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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102
exuberance
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| n.丰富；繁荣 | |
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103
mounds
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| 土堆，土丘( mound的名词复数 )； 一大堆 | |
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104
resolutely
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|
| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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105
chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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106
jaw
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|
| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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107
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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108
nervously
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|
| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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109
passionate
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|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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110
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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111
thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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112
wrench
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| v.猛拧；挣脱；使扭伤；n.扳手；痛苦，难受 | |
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113
outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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114
mansions
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| n.宅第，公馆，大厦( mansion的名词复数 ) | |
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115
bungalows
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| n.平房( bungalow的名词复数 )；单层小屋，多于一层的小屋 | |
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116
trampled
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|
| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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117
stinking
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| adj.臭的，烂醉的，讨厌的v.散发出恶臭( stink的现在分词 )；发臭味；名声臭；糟透 | |
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118
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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119
whining
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| n. 抱怨，牢骚 v. 哭诉，发牢骚 | |
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120
exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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121
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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122
exulted
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| 狂喜，欢跃( exult的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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123
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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124
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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125
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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126
heartiness
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| 诚实，热心 | |
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127
cataract
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| n.大瀑布，奔流，洪水，白内障 | |
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128
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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129
rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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130
sleek
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| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
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131
reassuringly
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| ad.安心，可靠 | |
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132
dealer
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| n.商人，贩子 | |
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133
bum
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| n.臀部；流浪汉，乞丐；vt.乞求，乞讨 | |
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134
lavishly
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| adv.慷慨地，大方地 | |
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135
prescriptions
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| 药( prescription的名词复数 )； 处方； 开处方； 计划 | |
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136
contentedly
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| adv.心满意足地 | |
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137
bower
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| n.凉亭，树荫下凉快之处；闺房；v.荫蔽 | |
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138
spouse
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| n.配偶(指夫或妻) | |
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139
shrine
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| n.圣地，神龛，庙；v.将...置于神龛内，把...奉为神圣 | |
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140
prosaic
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| adj.单调的，无趣的 | |
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141
surmounted
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|
| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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142
scrolls
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| n.（常用于录写正式文件的）纸卷( scroll的名词复数 )；卷轴；涡卷形（装饰）；卷形花纹v.（电脑屏幕上）从上到下移动（资料等），卷页( scroll的第三人称单数 )；（似卷轴般）卷起；（像展开卷轴般地）将文字显示于屏幕 | |
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143
jigsawed
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| v.用锯曲线机锯（jigsaw的过去式形式） | |
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144
lugubrious
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|
| adj.悲哀的，忧郁的 | |
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145
starched
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|
| adj.浆硬的，硬挺的，拘泥刻板的v.把（衣服、床单等）浆一浆( starch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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146
humility
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|
| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
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147
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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148
scampered
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| v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑，惊惶奔跑( scamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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149
parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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150
dinginess
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| n.暗淡，肮脏 | |
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151
lugubriousness
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152
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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153
cubs
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| n.幼小的兽，不懂规矩的年轻人( cub的名词复数 ) | |
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insularity
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| n.心胸狭窄；孤立；偏狭；岛国根性 | |
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