Bright and pleasant was the sky, balmy the air, and beautiful the appearance of every object around, as Mr. Pickwick leaned over the balustrades of Rochester Bridge, contemplating1 nature, and waiting for breakfast. The scene was indeed one which might well have charmed a far less reflective mind, than that to which it was presented.
On the left of the spectator lay the ruined wall, broken in many places, and in some, overhanging the narrow beach below in rude and heavy masses. Huge knots of seaweed hung upon the jagged and pointed2 stones, trembling in every breath of wind; and the green ivy3 clung mournfully round the dark and ruined battlements. Behind it rose the ancient castle, its towers roofless, and its massive walls crumbling4 away, but telling us proudly of its old might and strength, as when, seven hundred years ago, it rang with the clash of arms, or resounded5 with the noise of feasting and revelry. On either side, the banks of the Medway, covered with cornfields and pastures, with here and there a windmill, or a distant church, stretched away as far as the eye could see, presenting a rich and varied6 landscape, rendered more beautiful by the changing shadows which passed swiftly across it as the thin and half-formed clouds skimmed away in the light of the morning sun. The river, reflecting the clear blue of the sky, glistened7 and sparkled as it flowed noiselessly on; and the oars8 of the fishermen dipped into the water with a clear and liquid sound, as their heavy but picturesque9 boats glided10 slowly down the stream.
Mr. Pickwick was roused from the agreeable reverie into which he had been led by the objects before him, by a deep sigh, and a touch on his shoulder. He turned round: and the dismal11 man was at his side.
‘Contemplating the scene?’ inquired the dismal man. ‘I was,’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘And congratulating yourself on being up so soon?’
Mr. Pickwick nodded assent12.
‘Ah! people need to rise early, to see the sun in all his splendour, for his brightness seldom lasts the day through. The morning of day and the morning of life are but too much alike.’
‘You speak truly, sir,’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘How common the saying,’ continued the dismal man, ‘“The morning’s too fine to last.” How well might it be applied13 to our everyday existence. God! what would I forfeit14 to have the days of my childhood restored, or to be able to forget them for ever!’
‘You have seen much trouble, sir,’ said Mr. Pickwick compassionately15.
‘I have,’ said the dismal man hurriedly; ‘I have. More than those who see me now would believe possible.’ He paused for an instant, and then said abruptly16 —
‘Did it ever strike you, on such a morning as this, that drowning would be happiness and peace?’
‘God bless me, no!’ replied Mr. Pickwick, edging a little from the balustrade, as the possibility of the dismal man’s tipping him over, by way of experiment, occurred to him rather forcibly.
‘I have thought so, often,’ said the dismal man, without noticing the action. ‘The calm, cool water seems to me to murmur17 an invitation to repose18 and rest. A bound, a splash, a brief struggle; there is an eddy19 for an instant, it gradually subsides20 into a gentle ripple21; the waters have closed above your head, and the world has closed upon your miseries22 and misfortunes for ever.’ The sunken eye of the dismal man flashed brightly as he spoke23, but the momentary24 excitement quickly subsided25; and he turned calmly away, as he said —
‘There — enough of that. I wish to see you on another subject. You invited me to read that paper, the night before last, and listened attentively26 while I did so.’ ‘I did,’ replied Mr. Pickwick; ‘and I certainly thought —’
‘I asked for no opinion,’ said the dismal man, interrupting him, ‘and I want none. You are travelling for amusement and instruction. Suppose I forward you a curious manuscript — observe, not curious because wild or improbable, but curious as a leaf from the romance of real life — would you communicate it to the club, of which you have spoken so frequently?’
‘Certainly,’ replied Mr. Pickwick, ‘if you wished it; and it would be entered on their transactions.’ ‘You shall have it,’ replied the dismal man. ‘Your address;’ and, Mr. Pickwick having communicated their probable route, the dismal man carefully noted27 it down in a greasy28 pocket-book, and, resisting Mr. Pickwick’s pressing invitation to breakfast, left that gentleman at his inn, and walked slowly away.
Mr. Pickwick found that his three companions had risen, and were waiting his arrival to commence breakfast, which was ready laid in tempting29 display. They sat down to the meal; and broiled30 ham, eggs, tea, coffee and sundries, began to disappear with a rapidity which at once bore testimony31 to the excellence32 of the fare, and the appetites of its consumers.
‘Now, about Manor33 Farm,’ said Mr. Pickwick. ‘How shall we go?’
‘We had better consult the waiter, perhaps,’ said Mr. Tupman; and the waiter was summoned accordingly.
‘Dingley Dell, gentlemen — fifteen miles, gentlemen — cross road — post-chaise, sir?’
‘Post-chaise won’t hold more than two,’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘True, sir — beg your pardon, sir. — Very nice four-wheel chaise, sir — seat for two behind — one in front for the gentleman that drives — oh! beg your pardon, sir — that’ll only hold three.’
‘What’s to be done?’ said Mr. Snodgrass.
‘Perhaps one of the gentlemen would like to ride, sir?’ suggested the waiter, looking towards Mr. Winkle; ‘very good saddle-horses, sir — any of Mr. Wardle’s men coming to Rochester, bring ’em back, Sir.’
‘The very thing,’ said Mr. Pickwick. ‘Winkle, will you go on horseback?’
Now Mr. Winkle did entertain considerable misgivings34 in the very lowest recesses35 of his own heart, relative to his equestrian36 skill; but, as he would not have them even suspected, on any account, he at once replied with great hardihood, ‘Certainly. I should enjoy it of all things.’ Mr. Winkle had rushed upon his fate; there was no resource. ‘Let them be at the door by eleven,’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘Very well, sir,’ replied the waiter.
The waiter retired37; the breakfast concluded; and the travellers ascended38 to their respective bedrooms, to prepare a change of clothing, to take with them on their approaching expedition.
Mr. Pickwick had made his preliminary arrangements, and was looking over the coffee-room blinds at the passengers in the street, when the waiter entered, and announced that the chaise was ready — an announcement which the vehicle itself confirmed, by forthwith appearing before the coffee-room blinds aforesaid.
It was a curious little green box on four wheels, with a low place like a wine-bin39 for two behind, and an elevated perch40 for one in front, drawn41 by an immense brown horse, displaying great symmetry of bone. An hostler stood near, holding by the bridle42 another immense horse — apparently43 a near relative of the animal in the chaise — ready saddled for Mr. Winkle.
‘Bless my soul!’ said Mr. Pickwick, as they stood upon the pavement while the coats were being put in. ‘Bless my soul! who’s to drive? I never thought of that.’
‘Oh! you, of course,’ said Mr. Tupman.
‘Of course,’ said Mr. Snodgrass.
‘I!’ exclaimed Mr. Pickwick.
‘Not the slightest fear, Sir,’ interposed the hostler. ‘Warrant him quiet, Sir; a hinfant in arms might drive him.’
‘He don’t shy, does he?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick.
‘Shy, sir?-he wouldn’t shy if he was to meet a vagin-load of monkeys with their tails burned off.’
The last recommendation was indisputable. Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass got into the bin; Mr. Pickwick ascended to his perch, and deposited his feet on a floor-clothed shelf, erected44 beneath it for that purpose.
‘Now, shiny Villiam,’ said the hostler to the deputy hostler, ‘give the gen’lm’n the ribbons.’ ‘Shiny Villiam’— so called, probably, from his sleek45 hair and oily countenance46 — placed the reins47 in Mr. Pickwick’s left hand; and the upper hostler thrust a whip into his right.
‘Wo-o!’ cried Mr. Pickwick, as the tall quadruped evinced a decided48 inclination49 to back into the coffee-room window. ‘Wo-o!’ echoed Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass, from the bin. ‘Only his playfulness, gen’lm’n,’ said the head hostler encouragingly; ‘jist kitch hold on him, Villiam.’ The deputy restrained the animal’s impetuosity, and the principal ran to assist Mr. Winkle in mounting.
‘T’other side, sir, if you please.’
‘Blowed if the gen’lm’n worn’t a-gettin’ up on the wrong side,’ whispered a grinning post-boy to the inexpressibly gratified waiter.
Mr. Winkle, thus instructed, climbed into his saddle, with about as much difficulty as he would have experienced in getting up the side of a first-rate man-of-war.
‘All right?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick, with an inward presentiment50 that it was all wrong.
‘All right,’ replied Mr. Winkle faintly.
‘Let ’em go,’ cried the hostler. —‘Hold him in, sir;’ and away went the chaise, and the saddle-horse, with Mr. Pickwick on the box of the one, and Mr. Winkle on the back of the other, to the delight and gratification of the whole inn-yard.
‘What makes him go sideways?’ said Mr. Snodgrass in the bin, to Mr. Winkle in the saddle.
‘I can’t imagine,’ replied Mr. Winkle. His horse was drifting up the street in the most mysterious manner — side first, with his head towards one side of the way, and his tail towards the other.
Mr. Pickwick had no leisure to observe either this or any other particular, the whole of his faculties51 being concentrated in the management of the animal attached to the chaise, who displayed various peculiarities52, highly interesting to a bystander, but by no means equally amusing to any one seated behind him. Besides constantly jerking his head up, in a very unpleasant and uncomfortable manner, and tugging53 at the reins to an extent which rendered it a matter of great difficulty for Mr. Pickwick to hold them, he had a singular propensity54 for darting55 suddenly every now and then to the side of the road, then stopping short, and then rushing forward for some minutes, at a speed which it was wholly impossible to control.
‘What CAN he mean by this?’ said Mr. Snodgrass, when the horse had executed this manoeuvre56 for the twentieth time.
‘I don’t know,’ replied Mr. Tupman; ‘it looks very like shying, don’t it?’ Mr. Snodgrass was about to reply, when he was interrupted by a shout from Mr. Pickwick.
‘Woo!’ said that gentleman; ‘I have dropped my whip.’ ‘Winkle,’ said Mr. Snodgrass, as the equestrian came trotting57 up on the tall horse, with his hat over his ears, and shaking all over, as if he would shake to pieces, with the violence of the exercise, ‘pick up the whip, there’s a good fellow.’ Mr. Winkle pulled at the bridle of the tall horse till he was black in the face; and having at length succeeded in stopping him, dismounted, handed the whip to Mr. Pickwick, and grasping the reins, prepared to remount.
Now whether the tall horse, in the natural playfulness of his disposition58, was desirous of having a little innocent recreation with Mr. Winkle, or whether it occurred to him that he could perform the journey as much to his own satisfaction without a rider as with one, are points upon which, of course, we can arrive at no definite and distinct conclusion. By whatever motives59 the animal was actuated, certain it is that Mr. Winkle had no sooner touched the reins, than he slipped them over his head, and darted60 backwards61 to their full length.
‘Poor fellow,’ said Mr. Winkle soothingly62 —‘poor fellow — good old horse.’ The ‘poor fellow’ was proof against flattery; the more Mr. Winkle tried to get nearer him, the more he sidled away; and, notwithstanding all kinds of coaxing64 and wheedling65, there were Mr. Winkle and the horse going round and round each other for ten minutes, at the end of which time each was at precisely66 the same distance from the other as when they first commenced — an unsatisfactory sort of thing under any circumstances, but particularly so in a lonely road, where no assistance can be procured67.
‘What am I to do?’ shouted Mr. Winkle, after the dodging68 had been prolonged for a considerable time. ‘What am I to do? I can’t get on him.’
‘You had better lead him till we come to a turnpike,’ replied Mr. Pickwick from the chaise.
‘But he won’t come!’ roared Mr. Winkle. ‘Do come and hold him.’
Mr. Pickwick was the very personation of kindness and humanity: he threw the reins on the horse’s back, and having descended69 from his seat, carefully drew the chaise into the hedge, lest anything should come along the road, and stepped back to the assistance of his distressed70 companion, leaving Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass in the vehicle.
The horse no sooner beheld71 Mr. Pickwick advancing towards him with the chaise whip in his hand, than he exchanged the rotary72 motion in which he had previously73 indulged, for a retrograde movement of so very determined74 a character, that it at once drew Mr. Winkle, who was still at the end of the bridle, at a rather quicker rate than fast walking, in the direction from which they had just come. Mr. Pickwick ran to his assistance, but the faster Mr. Pickwick ran forward, the faster the horse ran backward. There was a great scraping of feet, and kicking up of the dust; and at last Mr. Winkle, his arms being nearly pulled out of their sockets76, fairly let go his hold. The horse paused, stared, shook his head, turned round, and quietly trotted77 home to Rochester, leaving Mr. Winkle and Mr. Pickwick gazing on each other with countenances78 of blank dismay. A rattling79 noise at a little distance attracted their attention. They looked up.
‘Bless my soul!’ exclaimed the agonised Mr. Pickwick; ‘there’s the other horse running away!’
It was but too true. The animal was startled by the noise, and the reins were on his back. The results may be guessed. He tore off with the four-wheeled chaise behind him, and Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass in the four-wheeled chaise. The heat was a short one. Mr. Tupman threw himself into the hedge, Mr. Snodgrass followed his example, the horse dashed the four — wheeled chaise against a wooden bridge, separated the wheels from the body, and the bin from the perch; and finally stood stock still to gaze upon the ruin he had made.
The first care of the two unspilt friends was to extricate80 their unfortunate companions from their bed of quickset — a process which gave them the unspeakable satisfaction of discovering that they had sustained no injury, beyond sundry81 rents in their garments, and various lacerations from the brambles. The next thing to be done was to unharness the horse. This complicated process having been effected, the party walked slowly forward, leading the horse among them, and abandoning the chaise to its fate.
An hour’s walk brought the travellers to a little road-side public-house, with two elm-trees, a horse trough, and a signpost, in front; one or two deformed82 hay-ricks behind, a kitchen garden at the side, and rotten sheds and mouldering83 outhouses jumbled84 in strange confusion all about it. A red-headed man was working in the garden; and to him Mr. Pickwick called lustily, ‘Hollo there!’
The red-headed man raised his body, shaded his eyes with his hand, and stared, long and coolly, at Mr. Pickwick and his companions.
‘Hollo there!’ repeated Mr. Pickwick.
‘Hollo!’ was the red-headed man’s reply.
‘How far is it to Dingley Dell?’
‘Better er seven mile.’
‘Is it a good road?’
‘No, ‘tain’t.’ Having uttered this brief reply, and apparently satisfied himself with another scrutiny85, the red-headed man resumed his work. ‘We want to put this horse up here,’ said Mr. Pickwick; ‘I suppose we can, can’t we?’ ‘Want to put that ere horse up, do ee?’ repeated the red-headed man, leaning on his spade.
‘Of course,’ replied Mr. Pickwick, who had by this time advanced, horse in hand, to the garden rails.
‘Missus’— roared the man with the red head, emerging from the garden, and looking very hard at the horse —‘missus!’
A tall, bony woman — straight all the way down — in a coarse, blue pelisse, with the waist an inch or two below her arm-pits, responded to the call.
‘Can we put this horse up here, my good woman?’ said Mr. Tupman, advancing, and speaking in his most seductive tones. The woman looked very hard at the whole party; and the red– headed man whispered something in her ear.
‘No,’ replied the woman, after a little consideration, ‘I’m afeerd on it.’
‘Afraid!’ exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, ‘what’s the woman afraid of?’
‘It got us in trouble last time,’ said the woman, turning into the house; ‘I woan’t have nothin’ to say to ‘un.’
‘Most extraordinary thing I have ever met with in my life,’ said the astonished Mr. Pickwick.
‘I— I— really believe,’ whispered Mr. Winkle, as his friends gathered round him, ‘that they think we have come by this horse in some dishonest manner.’
‘What!’ exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, in a storm of indignation. Mr. Winkle modestly repeated his suggestion.
‘Hollo, you fellow,’ said the angry Mr. Pickwick,‘do you think we stole the horse?’
‘I’m sure ye did,’ replied the red-headed man, with a grin which agitated86 his countenance from one auricular organ to the other. Saying which he turned into the house and banged the door after him.
‘It’s like a dream,’ ejaculated Mr. Pickwick, ‘a hideous87 dream. The idea of a man’s walking about all day with a dreadful horse that he can’t get rid of!’ The depressed88 Pickwickians turned moodily89 away, with the tall quadruped, for which they all felt the most unmitigated disgust, following slowly at their heels.
It was late in the afternoon when the four friends and their four-footed companion turned into the lane leading to Manor Farm; and even when they were so near their place of destination, the pleasure they would otherwise have experienced was materially damped as they reflected on the singularity of their appearance, and the absurdity90 of their situation. Torn clothes, lacerated faces, dusty shoes, exhausted91 looks, and, above all, the horse. Oh, how Mr. Pickwick cursed that horse: he had eyed the noble animal from time to time with looks expressive92 of hatred93 and revenge; more than once he had calculated the probable amount of the expense he would incur94 by cutting his throat; and now the temptation to destroy him, or to cast him loose upon the world, rushed upon his mind with tenfold force. He was roused from a meditation95 on these dire75 imaginings by the sudden appearance of two figures at a turn of the lane. It was Mr. Wardle, and his faithful attendant, the fat boy.
‘Why, where have you been?’ said the hospitable96 old gentleman; ‘I’ve been waiting for you all day. Well, you DO look tired. What! Scratches! Not hurt, I hope — eh? Well, I AM glad to hear that — very. So you’ve been spilt, eh? Never mind. Common accident in these parts. Joe — he’s asleep again! — Joe, take that horse from the gentlemen, and lead it into the stable.’
The fat boy sauntered heavily behind them with the animal; and the old gentleman, condoling97 with his guests in homely98 phrase on so much of the day’s adventures as they thought proper to communicate, led the way to the kitchen.
‘We’ll have you put to rights here,’ said the old gentleman, ‘and then I’ll introduce you to the people in the parlour. Emma, bring out the cherry brandy; now, Jane, a needle and thread here; towels and water, Mary. Come, girls, bustle99 about.’
Three or four buxom100 girls speedily dispersed101 in search of the different articles in requisition, while a couple of large-headed, circular-visaged males rose from their seats in the chimney-corner (for although it was a May evening their attachment102 to the wood fire appeared as cordial as if it were Christmas), and dived into some obscure recesses, from which they speedily produced a bottle of blacking, and some half-dozen brushes.
‘Bustle!’ said the old gentleman again, but the admonition was quite unnecessary, for one of the girls poured out the cherry brandy, and another brought in the towels, and one of the men suddenly seizing Mr. Pickwick by the leg, at imminent103 hazard of throwing him off his balance, brushed away at his boot till his corns were red-hot; while the other shampooed Mr. Winkle with a heavy clothes-brush, indulging, during the operation, in that hissing104 sound which hostlers are wont105 to produce when engaged in rubbing down a horse.
Mr. Snodgrass, having concluded his ablutions, took a survey of the room, while standing63 with his back to the fire, sipping106 his cherry brandy with heartfelt satisfaction. He describes it as a large apartment, with a red brick floor and a capacious chimney; the ceiling garnished107 with hams, sides of bacon, and ropes of onions. The walls were decorated with several hunting-whips, two or three bridles108, a saddle, and an old rusty109 blunderbuss, with an inscription110 below it, intimating that it was ‘Loaded’— as it had been, on the same authority, for half a century at least. An old eight-day clock, of solemn and sedate111 demeanour, ticked gravely in one corner; and a silver watch, of equal antiquity112, dangled113 from one of the many hooks which ornamented114 the dresser.
‘Ready?’ said the old gentleman inquiringly, when his guests had been washed, mended, brushed, and brandied.
‘Quite,’ replied Mr. Pickwick.
‘Come along, then;’ and the party having traversed several dark passages, and being joined by Mr. Tupman, who had lingered behind to snatch a kiss from Emma, for which he had been duly rewarded with sundry pushings and scratchings, arrived at the parlour door.
‘Welcome,’ said their hospitable host, throwing it open and stepping forward to announce them, ‘welcome, gentlemen, to Manor Farm.’
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收听单词发音
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1
contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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2
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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3
ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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5
resounded
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| v.（指声音等）回荡于某处( resound的过去式和过去分词 )；产生回响；（指某处）回荡着声音 | |
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6
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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glistened
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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8
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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9
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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14
forfeit
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| vt.丧失；n.罚金，罚款，没收物 | |
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compassionately
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| adv.表示怜悯地，有同情心地 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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eddy
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| n.漩涡，涡流 | |
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subsides
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的第三人称单数 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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21
ripple
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| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
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22
miseries
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| n.痛苦( misery的名词复数 )；痛苦的事；穷困；常发牢骚的人 | |
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23
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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24
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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tempting
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| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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broiled
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| a.烤过的 | |
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testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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excellence
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| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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35
recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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36
equestrian
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| adj.骑马的；n.马术 | |
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37
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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38
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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39
bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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40
perch
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| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
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41
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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42
bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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43
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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44
ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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45
sleek
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| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
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46
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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47
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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48
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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49
inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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50
presentiment
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| n.预感，预觉 | |
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51
faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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52
peculiarities
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| n. 特质, 特性, 怪癖, 古怪 | |
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53
tugging
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| n.牵引感v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
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54
propensity
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| n.倾向；习性 | |
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55
darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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56
manoeuvre
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| n.策略，调动；v.用策略，调动 | |
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57
trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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58
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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59
motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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60
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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61
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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62
soothingly
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| adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地 | |
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63
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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coaxing
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| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的现在分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱；“锻炼”效应 | |
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65
wheedling
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| v.骗取（某物），哄骗（某人干某事）( wheedle的现在分词 ) | |
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66
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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67
procured
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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68
dodging
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| n.避开，闪过，音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 )；回避 | |
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69
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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70
distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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71
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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72
rotary
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| adj.(运动等)旋转的；轮转的；转动的 | |
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73
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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74
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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75
dire
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| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
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76
sockets
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| n.套接字，使应用程序能够读写与收发通讯协定(protocol)与资料的程序( Socket的名词复数 )；孔( socket的名词复数 )；（电器上的）插口；托座；凹穴 | |
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77
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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countenances
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| n.面容( countenance的名词复数 )；表情；镇静；道义支持 | |
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79
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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80
extricate
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| v.拯救，救出；解脱 | |
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81
sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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82
deformed
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| adj.畸形的；变形的；丑的，破相了的 | |
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83
mouldering
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| v.腐朽( moulder的现在分词 )；腐烂，崩塌 | |
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84
jumbled
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| adj.混乱的；杂乱的 | |
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85
scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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86
agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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87
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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88
depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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89
moodily
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| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
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90
absurdity
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| n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 | |
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91
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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92
expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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93
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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94
incur
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| vt.招致，蒙受，遭遇 | |
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95
meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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96
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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97
condoling
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| v.表示同情，吊唁( condole的现在分词 ) | |
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98
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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99
bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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100
buxom
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| adj.（妇女）丰满的，有健康美的 | |
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101
dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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102
attachment
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| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
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103
imminent
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| adj.即将发生的，临近的，逼近的 | |
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104
hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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105
wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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106
sipping
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
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107
garnished
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| v.给（上餐桌的食物）加装饰( garnish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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108
bridles
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| 约束( bridle的名词复数 )； 限动器； 马笼头； 系带 | |
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109
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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110
inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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111
sedate
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| adj.沉着的，镇静的，安静的 | |
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112
antiquity
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| n.古老；高龄；古物，古迹 | |
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113
dangled
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| 悬吊着( dangle的过去式和过去分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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114
ornamented
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| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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