One enchanted3 hour when she returned to youth and a belief in the possibility of beauty.
She had walked northward4 toward the upper shore of Plover5 Lake, taking to the railroad track, whose directness and dryness make it the natural highway for pedestrians6 on the plains. She stepped from tie to tie, in long strides. At each road-crossing she had to crawl over a cattle-guard of sharpened timbers. She walked the rails, balancing with arms extended, cautious heel before toe. As she lost balance her body bent7 over, her arms revolved8 wildly, and when she toppled she laughed aloud.
The thick grass beside the track, coarse and prickly with many burnings, hid canary-yellow buttercups and the mauve petals9 and woolly sage-green coats of the pasque flowers. The branches of the kinnikinic brush were red and smooth as lacquer on a saki bowl.
She ran down the gravelly embankment, smiled at children gathering10 flowers in a little basket, thrust a handful of the soft pasque flowers into the bosom11 of her white blouse. Fields of springing wheat drew her from the straight propriety12 of the railroad and she crawled through the rusty13 barbed-wire fence. She followed a furrow15 between low wheat blades and a field of rye which showed silver lights as it flowed before the wind. She found a pasture by the lake. So sprinkled was the pasture with rag-baby blossoms and the cottony herb of Indian tobacco that it spread out like a rare old Persian carpet of cream and rose and delicate green. Under her feet the rough grass made a pleasant crunching16. Sweet winds blew from the sunny lake beside her, and small waves sputtered17 on the meadowy shore. She leaped a tiny creek18 bowered19 in pussy-willow20 buds. She was nearing a frivolous21 grove22 of birch and poplar and wild plum trees.
The poplar foliage23 had the downiness of a Corot arbor24; the green and silver trunks were as candid25 as the birches, as slender and lustrous26 as the limbs of a Pierrot. The cloudy white blossoms of the plum trees filled the grove with a springtime mistiness27 which gave an illusion of distance.
She ran into the wood, crying out for joy of freedom regained28 after winter. Choke-cherry blossoms lured29 her from the outer sun-warmed spaces to depths of green stillness, where a submarine light came through the young leaves. She walked pensively30 along an abandoned road. She found a moccasin- flower beside a lichen-covered log. At the end of the road she saw the open acres — dipping rolling fields bright with wheat.
“I believe! The woodland gods still live! And out there, the great land. It’s beautiful as the mountains. What do I care for Thanatopsises?”
She came out on the prairie, spacious31 under an arch of boldly cut clouds. Small pools glittered. Above a marsh32 red-winged blackbirds chased a crow in a swift melodrama33 of the air. On a hill was silhouetted34 a man following a drag. His horse bent its neck and plodded35, content.
A path took her to the Corinth road, leading back to town. Dandelions glowed in patches amidst the wild grass by the way. A stream golloped through a concrete culvert beneath the road. She trudged36 in healthy weariness.
A man in a bumping Ford38 rattled39 up beside her, hailed, “Give you a lift, Mrs. Kennicott?”
“Thank you. It’s awfully40 good of you, but I’m enjoying the walk.”
“Great day, by golly. I seen some wheat that must of been five inches high. Well, so long.”
She hadn’t the dimmest notion who he was, but his greeting warmed her. This countryman gave her a companionship which she had never (whether by her fault or theirs or neither) been able to find in the matrons and commercial lords of the town.
Half a mile from town, in a hollow between hazelnut bushes and a brook41, she discovered a gipsy encampment: a covered wagon42, a tent, a bunch of pegged-out horses. A broad- shouldered man was squatted43 on his heels, holding a frying- pan over a camp-fire. He looked toward her. He was Miles Bjornstam.
“Well, well, what you doing out here?” he roared. “Come have a hunk o’ bacon. Pete! Hey, Pete!”
A tousled person came from behind the covered wagon.
“Pete, here’s the one honest-to-God lady in my bum37 town. Come on, crawl in and set a couple minutes, Mrs. Kennicott. I’m hiking off for all summer.”
The Red Swede staggered up, rubbed his cramped44 knees, lumbered45 to the wire fence, held the strands46 apart for her. She unconsciously smiled at him as she went through. Her skirt caught on a barb14; he carefully freed it.
Beside this man in blue flannel47 shirt, baggy48 khaki trousers, uneven49 suspenders, and vile50 felt hat, she was small and exquisite51.
The surly Pete set out an upturned bucket for her. She lounged on it, her elbows on her knees. “Where are you going?” she asked.
“Just starting off for the summer, horse-trading.” Bjornstam chuckled52. His red mustache caught the sun. “Regular hoboes and public benefactors53 we are. Take a hike like this every once in a while. Sharks on horses. Buy ’em from farmers and sell ’em to others. We’re honest — frequently. Great time. Camp along the road. I was wishing I had a chance to say good-by to you before I ducked out but —— Say, you better come along with us.”
“I’d like to.”
“While you’re playing mumblety-peg with Mrs. Lym Cass, Pete and me will be rambling54 across Dakota, through the Bad Lands, into the butte country, and when fall comes, we’ll be crossing over a pass of the Big Horn Mountains, maybe, and camp in a snow-storm, quarter of a mile right straight up above a lake. Then in the morning we’ll lie snug55 in our blankets and look up through the pines at an eagle. How’d it strike you? Heh? Eagle soaring and soaring all day — big wide sky ——”
“Don’t! Or I will go with you, and I’m afraid there might be some slight scandal. Perhaps some day I’ll do it. Good-by.”
Her hand disappeared in his blackened leather glove. From the turn in the road she waved at him. She walked on more soberly now, and she was lonely.
But the wheat and grass were sleek56 velvet57 under the sun- set; the prairie clouds were tawny58 gold; and she swung happily into Main Street.
II
Through the first days of June she drove with Kennicott on his calls. She identified him with the virile59 land; she admired him as she saw with what respect the farmers obeyed him. She was out in the early chill, after a hasty cup of coffee, reaching open country as the fresh sun came up in that unspoiled world. Meadow larks60 called from the tops of thin split fence-posts. The wild roses smelled clean.
As they returned in late afternoon the low sun was a solemnity of radial bands, like a heavenly fan of beaten gold; the limitless circle of the grain was a green sea rimmed61 with fog, and the willow wind-breaks were palmy isles62.
Before July the close heat blanketed them. The tortured earth cracked. Farmers panted through corn-fields behind cultivators and the sweating flanks of horses. While she waited for Kennicott in the car, before a farmhouse63, the seat burned her fingers and her head ached with the glare on fenders and hood64.
A black thunder-shower was followed by a dust storm which turned the sky yellow with the hint of a coming tornado65. Impalpable black dust far-borne from Dakota covered the inner sills of the closed windows.
The July heat was ever more stifling66. They crawled along Main Street by day; they found it hard to sleep at night. They brought mattresses67 down to the living-room, and thrashed and turned by the open window. Ten times a night they talked of going out to soak themselves with the hose and wade68 through the dew, but they were too listless to take the trouble. On cool evenings, when they tried to go walking, the gnats69 appeared in swarms70 which peppered their faces and caught in their throats.
She wanted the Northern pines, the Eastern sea, but Kennicott declared that it would be “kind of hard to get away, just NOW.” The Health and Improvement Committee of the Thanatopsis asked her to take part in the anti-fly campaign, and she toiled71 about town persuading householders to use the fly-traps furnished by the club, or giving out money prizes to fly-swatting children. She was loyal enough but not ardent72, and without ever quite intending to, she began to neglect the task as heat sucked at her strength.
Kennicott and she motored North and spent a week with his mother — that is, Carol spent it with his mother, while he fished for bass73.
The great event was their purchase of a summer cottage, down on Lake Minniemashie.
Perhaps the most amiable74 feature of life in Gopher Prairie was the summer cottages. They were merely two-room shanties75, with a seepage76 of broken-down chairs, peeling veneered tables, chromos pasted on wooden walls, and inefficient77 kerosene78 stoves. They were so thin-walled and so close together that you could — and did — hear a baby being spanked79 in the fifth cottage off. But they were set among elms and lindens on a bluff81 which looked across the lake to fields of ripened82 wheat sloping up to green woods.
Here the matrons forgot social jealousies83, and sat gossiping in gingham; or, in old bathing-suits, surrounded by hysterical84 children, they paddled for hours. Carol joined them; she ducked shrieking85 small boys, and helped babies construct sand- basins for unfortunate minnows. She liked Juanita Haydock and Maud Dyer when she helped them make picnic-supper for the men, who came motoring out from town each evening. She was easier and more natural with them. In the debate as to whether there should be veal86 loaf or poached egg on hash, she had no chance to be heretical and oversensitive.
They danced sometimes, in the evening; they had a minstrel show, with Kennicott surprisingly good as end-man; always they were encircled by children wise in the lore87 of woodchucks and gophers and rafts and willow whistles.
If they could have continued this normal barbaric life Carol would have been the most enthusiastic citizen of Gopher Prairie. She was relieved to be assured that she did not want bookish conversation alone; that she did not expect the town to become a Bohemia. She was content now. She did not criticize.
But in September, when the year was at its richest, custom dictated88 that it was time to return to town; to remove the children from the waste occupation of learning the earth, and send them back to lessons about the number of potatoes which (in a delightful89 world untroubled by commission-houses or shortages in freight-cars) William sold to John. The women who had cheerfully gone bathing all summer looked doubtful when Carol begged, “Let’s keep up an outdoor life this winter, let’s slide and skate.” Their hearts shut again till spring, and the nine months of cliques90 and radiators92 and dainty refreshments93 began all over.
III
Carol had started a salon94.
Since Kennicott, Vida Sherwin, and Guy Pollock were her only lions, and since Kennicott would have preferred Sam Clark to all the poets and radicals95 in the entire world, her private and self-defensive clique91 did not get beyond one evening dinner for Vida and Guy, on her first wedding anniversary; and that dinner did not get beyond a controversy96 regarding Raymie Wutherspoon’s yearnings.
Guy Pollock was the gentlest person she had found here. He spoke97 of her new jade98 and cream frock naturally, not jocosely99; he held her chair for her as they sat down to dinner; and he did not, like Kennicott, interrupt her to shout, “Oh say, speaking of that, I heard a good story today.” But Guy was incurably100 hermit101. He sat late and talked hard, and did not come again.
Then she met Champ Perry in the post-office — and decided102 that in the history of the pioneers was the panacea103 for Gopher Prairie, for all of America. We have lost their sturdiness, she told herself. We must restore the last of the veterans to power and follow them on the backward path to the integrity of Lincoln, to the gaiety of settlers dancing in a saw-mill.
She read in the records of the Minnesota Territorial104 Pioneers that only sixty years ago, not so far back as the birth of her own father, four cabins had composed Gopher Prairie. The log stockade105 which Mrs. Champ Perry was to find when she trekked106 in was built afterward107 by the soldiers as a defense108 against the Sioux. The four cabins were inhabited by Maine Yankees who had come up the Mississippi to St. Paul and driven north over virgin109 prairie into virgin woods. They ground their own corn; the men-folks shot ducks and pigeons and prairie chickens; the new breakings yielded the turnip- like rutabagas, which they ate raw and boiled and baked and raw again. For treat they had wild plums and crab-apples and tiny wild strawberries.
Grasshoppers110 came darkening the sky, and in an hour ate the farmwife’s garden and the farmer’s coat. Precious horses painfully brought from Illinois, were drowned in bogs111 or stampeded by the fear of blizzards112. Snow blew through the chinks of new-made cabins, and Eastern children, with flowery muslin dresses, shivered all winter and in summer were red and black with mosquito bites. Indians were everywhere; they camped in dooryards, stalked into kitchens to demand doughnuts, came with rifles across their backs into schoolhouses and begged to see the pictures in the geographies. Packs of timber- wolves treed the children; and the settlers found dens80 of rattle- snakes, killed fifty, a hundred, in a day.
Yet it was a buoyant life. Carol read enviously113 in the admirable Minnesota chronicles called “Old Rail Fence Corners” the reminiscence of Mrs. Mahlon Black, who settled in Stillwater in 1848:
“There was nothing to parade over in those days. We took it as it came and had happy lives. . . . We would all gather together and in about two minutes would be having a good time — playing cards or dancing. . . . We used to waltz and dance contra dances. None of these new jigs114 and not wear any clothes to speak of. We covered our hides in those days; no tight skirts like now. You could take three or four steps inside our skirts and then not reach the edge. One of the boys would fiddle115 a while and then some one would spell him and he could get a dance. Sometimes they would dance and fiddle too.”
She reflected that if she could not have ballrooms116 of gray and rose and crystal, she wanted to be swinging across a puncheon-floor with a dancing fiddler. This smug in-between town, which had exchanged “Money Musk” for phonographs grinding out ragtime117, it was neither the heroic old nor the sophisticated new. Couldn’t she somehow, some yet unimagined how, turn it back to simplicity118?
She herself knew two of the pioneers: the Perrys. Champ Perry was the buyer at the grain-elevator. He weighed wagons119 of wheat on a rough platform-scale, in the cracks of which the kernels120 sprouted121 every spring. Between times he napped in the dusty peace of his office.
She called on the Perrys at their rooms above Howland & Gould’s grocery.
When they were already old they had lost the money, which they had invested in an elevator. They had given up their beloved yellow brick house and moved into these rooms over a store, which were the Gopher Prairie equivalent of a flat. A broad stairway led from the street to the upper hall, along which were the doors of a lawyer’s office, a dentist’s, a photographer’s “studio,” the lodge-rooms of the Affiliated122 Order of Spartans123 and, at the back, the Perrys’ apartment.
They received her (their first caller in a month) with aged124 fluttering tenderness. Mrs. Perry confided125, “My, it’s a shame we got to entertain you in such a cramped place. And there ain’t any water except that ole iron sink outside in the hall, but still, as I say to Champ, beggars can’t be choosers. ‘Sides, the brick house was too big for me to sweep, and it was way out, and it’s nice to be living down here among folks. Yes, we’re glad to be here. But —— Some day, maybe we can have a house of our own again. We’re saving up —— Oh, dear, if we could have our own home! But these rooms are real nice, ain’t they!”
As old people will, the world over, they had moved as much as possible of their familiar furniture into this small space. Carol had none of the superiority she felt toward Mrs. Lyman Cass’s plutocratic126 parlor127. She was at home here. She noted128 with tenderness all the makeshifts: the darned chair-arms, the patent rocker covered with sleazy cretonne, the pasted strips of paper mending the birch-bark napkin-rings labeled “Papa ” and “Mama.”
She hinted of her new enthusiasm. To find one of the “young folks” who took them seriously, heartened the Perrys, and she easily drew from them the principles by which Gopher Prairie should be born again — should again become amusing to live in.
This was their philosophy complete. . .in the era of aeroplanes and syndicalism:
The Baptist Church (and, somewhat less, the Methodist, Congregational, and Presbyterian Churches) is the perfect, the divinely ordained129 standard in music, oratory130, philanthropy, and ethics131. “We don’t need all this new-fangled science, or this terrible Higher Criticism that’s ruining our young men in colleges. What we need is to get back to the true Word of God, and a good sound belief in hell, like we used to have it preached to us.”
The Republican Party, the Grand Old Party of Blaine and McKinley, is the agent of the Lord and of the Baptist Church in temporal affairs.
All socialists132 ought to be hanged.
“Harold Bell Wright is a lovely writer, and he teaches such good morals in his novels, and folks say he’s made prett’ near a million dollars out of ’em.”
People who make more than ten thousand a year or less than eight hundred are wicked.
Europeans are still wickeder.
It doesn’t hurt any to drink a glass of beer on a warm day, but anybody who touches wine is headed straight for hell.
Virgins133 are not so virginal as they used to be
Nobody needs drug-store ice cream; pie is good enough for anybody.
The farmers want too much for their wheat.
The owners of the elevator-company expect too much for the salaries they pay.
There would be no more trouble or discontent in the world if everybody worked as hard as Pa did when he cleared our first farm.
IV
Carol’s hero-worship dwindled134 to polite nodding, and the nodding dwindled to a desire to escape, and she went home with a headache.
Next day she saw Miles Bjornstam on the street.
“Just back from Montana. Great summer. Pumped my lungs chuck-full of Rocky Mountain air. Now for another whirl at sassing the bosses of Gopher Prairie.” She smiled at him, and the Perrys faded, the pioneers faded, till they were but daguerreotypes in a black walnut135 cupboard.
点击收听单词发音
1 authentic | |
a.真的,真正的;可靠的,可信的,有根据的 | |
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2 tranquil | |
adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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3 enchanted | |
adj. 被施魔法的,陶醉的,入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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4 northward | |
adv.向北;n.北方的地区 | |
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5 plover | |
n.珩,珩科鸟,千鸟 | |
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6 pedestrians | |
n.步行者( pedestrian的名词复数 ) | |
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7 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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8 revolved | |
v.(使)旋转( revolve的过去式和过去分词 );细想 | |
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9 petals | |
n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
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10 gathering | |
n.集会,聚会,聚集 | |
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11 bosom | |
n.胸,胸部;胸怀;内心;adj.亲密的 | |
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12 propriety | |
n.正当行为;正当;适当 | |
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13 rusty | |
adj.生锈的;锈色的;荒废了的 | |
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14 barb | |
n.(鱼钩等的)倒钩,倒刺 | |
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15 furrow | |
n.沟;垄沟;轨迹;车辙;皱纹 | |
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16 crunching | |
v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的现在分词 );嘎吱作响;(快速大量地)处理信息;数字捣弄 | |
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17 sputtered | |
v.唾沫飞溅( sputter的过去式和过去分词 );发劈啪声;喷出;飞溅出 | |
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18 creek | |
n.小溪,小河,小湾 | |
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19 bowered | |
adj.凉亭的,有树荫的 | |
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20 willow | |
n.柳树 | |
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21 frivolous | |
adj.轻薄的;轻率的 | |
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22 grove | |
n.林子,小树林,园林 | |
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23 foliage | |
n.叶子,树叶,簇叶 | |
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24 arbor | |
n.凉亭;树木 | |
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25 candid | |
adj.公正的,正直的;坦率的 | |
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26 lustrous | |
adj.有光泽的;光辉的 | |
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27 mistiness | |
n.雾,模糊,不清楚 | |
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28 regained | |
复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 ); 赢回; 重回; 复至某地 | |
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29 lured | |
吸引,引诱(lure的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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30 pensively | |
adv.沉思地,焦虑地 | |
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31 spacious | |
adj.广阔的,宽敞的 | |
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32 marsh | |
n.沼泽,湿地 | |
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33 melodrama | |
n.音乐剧;情节剧 | |
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34 silhouetted | |
显出轮廓的,显示影像的 | |
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35 plodded | |
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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36 trudged | |
vt.& vi.跋涉,吃力地走(trudge的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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37 bum | |
n.臀部;流浪汉,乞丐;vt.乞求,乞讨 | |
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38 Ford | |
n.浅滩,水浅可涉处;v.涉水,涉过 | |
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39 rattled | |
慌乱的,恼火的 | |
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40 awfully | |
adv.可怕地,非常地,极端地 | |
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41 brook | |
n.小河,溪;v.忍受,容让 | |
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42 wagon | |
n.四轮马车,手推车,面包车;无盖运货列车 | |
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43 squatted | |
v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 );非法擅自占用(土地或房屋);为获得其所有权;而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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44 cramped | |
a.狭窄的 | |
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45 lumbered | |
砍伐(lumber的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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46 strands | |
n.(线、绳、金属线、毛发等的)股( strand的名词复数 );缕;海洋、湖或河的)岸;(观点、计划、故事等的)部份v.使滞留,使搁浅( strand的第三人称单数 ) | |
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47 flannel | |
n.法兰绒;法兰绒衣服 | |
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48 baggy | |
adj.膨胀如袋的,宽松下垂的 | |
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49 uneven | |
adj.不平坦的,不规则的,不均匀的 | |
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50 vile | |
adj.卑鄙的,可耻的,邪恶的;坏透的 | |
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51 exquisite | |
adj.精美的;敏锐的;剧烈的,感觉强烈的 | |
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52 chuckled | |
轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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53 benefactors | |
n.捐助者,施主( benefactor的名词复数 );恩人 | |
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54 rambling | |
adj.[建]凌乱的,杂乱的 | |
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55 snug | |
adj.温暖舒适的,合身的,安全的;v.使整洁干净,舒适地依靠,紧贴;n.(英)酒吧里的私房 | |
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56 sleek | |
adj.光滑的,井然有序的;v.使光滑,梳拢 | |
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57 velvet | |
n.丝绒,天鹅绒;adj.丝绒制的,柔软的 | |
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58 tawny | |
adj.茶色的,黄褐色的;n.黄褐色 | |
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59 virile | |
adj.男性的;有男性生殖力的;有男子气概的;强有力的 | |
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60 larks | |
n.百灵科鸟(尤指云雀)( lark的名词复数 );一大早就起床;鸡鸣即起;(因太费力而不想干时说)算了v.百灵科鸟(尤指云雀)( lark的第三人称单数 );一大早就起床;鸡鸣即起;(因太费力而不想干时说)算了 | |
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61 rimmed | |
adj.有边缘的,有框的v.沿…边缘滚动;给…镶边 | |
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62 isles | |
岛( isle的名词复数 ) | |
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63 farmhouse | |
n.农场住宅(尤指主要住房) | |
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64 hood | |
n.头巾,兜帽,覆盖;v.罩上,以头巾覆盖 | |
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65 tornado | |
n.飓风,龙卷风 | |
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66 stifling | |
a.令人窒息的 | |
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67 mattresses | |
褥垫,床垫( mattress的名词复数 ) | |
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68 wade | |
v.跋涉,涉水;n.跋涉 | |
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69 gnats | |
n.叮人小虫( gnat的名词复数 ) | |
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70 swarms | |
蜂群,一大群( swarm的名词复数 ) | |
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71 toiled | |
长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 ); 艰难缓慢地移动,跋涉 | |
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72 ardent | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,强烈的,烈性的 | |
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73 bass | |
n.男低音(歌手);低音乐器;低音大提琴 | |
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74 amiable | |
adj.和蔼可亲的,友善的,亲切的 | |
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75 shanties | |
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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76 seepage | |
n.泄漏 | |
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77 inefficient | |
adj.效率低的,无效的 | |
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78 kerosene | |
n.(kerosine)煤油,火油 | |
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79 spanked | |
v.用手掌打( spank的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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80 dens | |
n.牙齿,齿状部分;兽窝( den的名词复数 );窝点;休息室;书斋 | |
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81 bluff | |
v.虚张声势,用假象骗人;n.虚张声势,欺骗 | |
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82 ripened | |
v.成熟,使熟( ripen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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83 jealousies | |
n.妒忌( jealousy的名词复数 );妒羡 | |
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84 hysterical | |
adj.情绪异常激动的,歇斯底里般的 | |
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85 shrieking | |
v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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86 veal | |
n.小牛肉 | |
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87 lore | |
n.传说;学问,经验,知识 | |
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88 dictated | |
v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 );口授;支配;摆布 | |
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89 delightful | |
adj.令人高兴的,使人快乐的 | |
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90 cliques | |
n.小集团,小圈子,派系( clique的名词复数 ) | |
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91 clique | |
n.朋党派系,小集团 | |
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92 radiators | |
n.(暖气设备的)散热器( radiator的名词复数 );汽车引擎的冷却器,散热器 | |
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93 refreshments | |
n.点心,便餐;(会议后的)简单茶点招 待 | |
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94 salon | |
n.[法]沙龙;客厅;营业性的高级服务室 | |
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95 radicals | |
n.激进分子( radical的名词复数 );根基;基本原理;[数学]根数 | |
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96 controversy | |
n.争论,辩论,争吵 | |
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97 spoke | |
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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98 jade | |
n.玉石;碧玉;翡翠 | |
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99 jocosely | |
adv.说玩笑地,诙谐地 | |
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100 incurably | |
ad.治不好地 | |
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101 hermit | |
n.隐士,修道者;隐居 | |
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102 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
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103 panacea | |
n.万灵药;治百病的灵药 | |
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104 territorial | |
adj.领土的,领地的 | |
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105 stockade | |
n.栅栏,围栏;v.用栅栏防护 | |
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106 trekked | |
v.艰苦跋涉,徒步旅行( trek的过去式和过去分词 );(尤指在山中)远足,徒步旅行,游山玩水 | |
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107 afterward | |
adv.后来;以后 | |
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108 defense | |
n.防御,保卫;[pl.]防务工事;辩护,答辩 | |
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109 virgin | |
n.处女,未婚女子;adj.未经使用的;未经开发的 | |
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110 grasshoppers | |
n.蚱蜢( grasshopper的名词复数 );蝗虫;蚂蚱;(孩子)矮小的 | |
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111 bogs | |
n.沼泽,泥塘( bog的名词复数 );厕所v.(使)陷入泥沼, (使)陷入困境( bog的第三人称单数 );妨碍,阻碍 | |
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112 blizzards | |
暴风雪( blizzard的名词复数 ); 暴风雪似的一阵,大量(或大批) | |
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113 enviously | |
adv.满怀嫉妒地 | |
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114 jigs | |
n.快步舞(曲)极快地( jig的名词复数 );夹具v.(使)上下急动( jig的第三人称单数 ) | |
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115 fiddle | |
n.小提琴;vi.拉提琴;不停拨弄,乱动 | |
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116 ballrooms | |
n.舞厅( ballroom的名词复数 ) | |
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117 ragtime | |
n.拉格泰姆音乐 | |
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118 simplicity | |
n.简单,简易;朴素;直率,单纯 | |
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119 wagons | |
n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 );铁路货车;小手推车 | |
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120 kernels | |
谷粒( kernel的名词复数 ); 仁; 核; 要点 | |
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121 sprouted | |
v.发芽( sprout的过去式和过去分词 );抽芽;出现;(使)涌现出 | |
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122 affiliated | |
adj. 附属的, 有关连的 | |
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123 spartans | |
n.斯巴达(spartan的复数形式) | |
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124 aged | |
adj.年老的,陈年的 | |
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125 confided | |
v.吐露(秘密,心事等)( confide的过去式和过去分词 );(向某人)吐露(隐私、秘密等) | |
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126 plutocratic | |
adj.富豪的,有钱的 | |
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127 parlor | |
n.店铺,营业室;会客室,客厅 | |
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128 noted | |
adj.著名的,知名的 | |
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129 ordained | |
v.任命(某人)为牧师( ordain的过去式和过去分词 );授予(某人)圣职;(上帝、法律等)命令;判定 | |
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130 oratory | |
n.演讲术;词藻华丽的言辞 | |
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131 ethics | |
n.伦理学;伦理观,道德标准 | |
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132 socialists | |
社会主义者( socialist的名词复数 ) | |
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133 virgins | |
处女,童男( virgin的名词复数 ); 童贞玛利亚(耶稣之母) | |
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134 dwindled | |
v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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135 walnut | |
n.胡桃,胡桃木,胡桃色,茶色 | |
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