“Neither at that, nor treble the sum,” responded the gaunt, grizzled, and threadbare Peter Goldthwaite. “The fact is, Mr. Brown, you must find another site for your brick block, and be content to leave my estate with the present owner. Next summer, I intend to put a splendid new mansion3 over the cellar of the old house.”
“Pho, Peter!” cried Mr. Brown, as he opened the kitchen door; “content yourself with building castles in the air, where house-lots are cheaper than on earth, to say nothing of the cost of bricks and mortar4. Such foundations are solid enough for your edifices6, while this underneath7 us is just the thing for mine; and so we may both be suited. What say you again?”
“Precisely8 what I said before, Mr. Brown,” answered Peter Goldthwaite. “And as for castles in the air, mine may not be as magnificent as that sort of architecture, but perhaps as substantial, Mr. Brown, as the very respectable brick block with dry goods stores, tailors’ shops, and banking9 rooms on the lower floor, and lawyers’ offices in the second story, which you are so anxious to substitute.”
“And the cost, Peter, eh?” said Mr. Brown, as he withdrew, in something of a pet. “That, I suppose, will be provided for, off-hand, by drawing a check on Bubble Bank!”
John Brown and Peter Goldthwaite had been jointly10 known to the commercial world between twenty and thirty years before, under the firm of Goldthwaite & Brown; which co-partnership, however, was speedily dissolved by the natural incongruity11 of its constituent12 parts. Since that event, John Brown, with exactly the qualities of a thousand other John Browns, and by just such plodding13 methods as they used, had prospered14 wonderfully, and become one of the wealthiest John Browns on earth. Peter Goldthwaite, on the contrary, after innumerable schemes, which ought to have collected all the coin and paper currency of the country into his coffers, was as needy15 a gentleman as ever wore a patch upon his elbow. The contrast between him and his former partner may be briefly16 marked; for Brown never reckoned upon luck, yet always had it; while Peter made luck the main condition of his projects, and always missed it. While the means held out, his speculations17 had been magnificent, but were chiefly confined, of late years, to such small business as adventures in the lottery19. Once he had gone on a gold-gathering20 expedition somewhere to the South, and ingeniously contrived21 to empty his pockets more thoroughly22 than ever; while others, doubtless, were filling theirs with native bullion23 by the handful. More recently he had expended24 a legacy25 of a thousand or two of dollars in purchasing Mexican scrip, and thereby26 became the proprietor27 of a province; which, however, so far as Peter could find out, was situated28 where he might have had an empire for the same money — in the clouds. From a search after this valuable real estate Peter returned so gaunt and threadbare that, on reaching New England, the scarecrows in the cornfields beckoned29 to him, as he passed by. “They did but flutter in the wind,” quoth Peter Goldthwaite. No, Peter, they beckoned, for the scarecrows knew their brother!
At the period of our story his whole visible income would not have paid the tax of the old mansion in which we find him. It was one of those rusty30, moss-grown, many-peaked wooden houses, which are scattered31 about the streets of our elder towns, with a beetle-browed second story projecting over the foundation, as if it frowned at the novelty around it. This old paternal32 edifice5, needy as he was, and though, being centrally situated on the principal street of the town, it would have brought him a handsome sum, the sagacious Peter had his own reasons for never parting with, either by auction33 or private sale. There seemed, indeed, to be a fatality34 that connected him with his birthplace; for, often as he had stood on the verge35 of ruin, and standing36 there even now, he had not yet taken the step beyond it which would have compelled him to surrender the house to his creditors37. So here he dwelt with bad luck till good should come.
Here then in his kitchen, the only room where a spark of fire took off the chill of a November evening, poor Peter Goldthwaite had just been visited by his rich old partner. At the close of their interview, Peter, with rather a mortified38 look, glanced downwards39 at his dress, parts of which appeared as ancient as the days of Goldthwaite & Brown. His upper garment was a mixed surtout, wofully faded, and patched with newer stuff on each elbow; beneath this he wore a threadbare black coat, some of the silk buttons of which had been replaced with others of a different pattern; and lastly, though he lacked not a pair of gray pantaloons, they were very shabby ones, and had been partially40 turned brown by the frequent toasting of Peter’s shins before a scanty41 fire. Peter’s person was in keeping with his goodly apparel. Gray-headed, hollow-eyed, pale-cheeked, and lean-bodied, he was the perfect picture of a man who had fed on windy schemes and empty hopes, till he could neither live on such unwholesome trash, nor stomach more substantial food. But, withal, this Peter Goldthwaite, crack-brained simpleton as, perhaps, he was, might have cut a very brilliant figure in the world, had he employed his imagination in the airy business of poetry, instead of making it a demon42 of mischief43 in mercantile pursuits. After all, he was no bad fellow, but as harmless as a child, and as honest and honorable, and as much of the gentleman which nature meant him for, as an irregular life and depressed44 circumstances will permit any man to be.
As Peter stood on the uneven45 bricks of his hearth46, looking round at the disconsolate47 old kitchen, his eyes began to kindle48 with the illumination of an enthusiasm that never long deserted49 him. He raised his hand, clinched50 it, and smote51 it energetically against the smoky panel over the fireplace.
“The time is come!” said he. “With such a treasure at command, it were folly52 to be a poor man any longer. To-morrow morning I will begin with the garret, nor desist till I have torn the house down!”
Deep in the chimney-corner, like a witch in a dark cavern53, sat a little old woman, mending one of the two pairs of stockings wherewith Peter Goldthwaite kept his toes from being frostbitten. As the feet were ragged54 past all darning, she had cut pieces out of a cast-off flannel55 petticoat, to make new soles. Tabitha Porter was an old maid, upwards56 of sixty years of age, fifty-five of which she had sat in that same chimney-corner, such being the length of time since Peter’s grandfather had taken her from the almshouse. She had no friend but Peter, nor Peter any friend but Tabitha; so long as Peter might have a shelter for his own head, Tabitha would know where to shelter hers; or, being homeless elsewhere, she would take her master by the hand and bring him to her native home, the almshouse. Should it ever be necessary, she loved him well enough to feed him with her last morsel57, and clothe him with her under petticoat. But Tabitha was a queer old woman, and, though never infected with Peter’s flightiness, had become so accustomed to his freaks and follies58 that she viewed them all as matters of course. Hearing him threaten to tear the house down, she looked quietly up from her work.
“Best leave the kitchen till the last, Mr. Peter,” said she.
“The sooner we have it all down the better,” said Peter Goldthwaite. “I am tired to death of living in this cold, dark, windy, smoky, creaking, groaning59, dismal60 old house. I shall feel like a younger man when we get into my splendid brick mansion, as, please Heaven, we shall by this time next autumn. You shall have a room on the sunny side, old Tabby, finished and furnished as best may suit your own notions.”
“I should like it pretty much such a room as this kitchen,” answered Tabitha. “It will never be like home to me till the chimney-corner gets as black with smoke as this; and that won’t be these hundred years. How much do you mean to lay out on the house, Mr. Peter?”
“What is that to the purpose?” exclaimed Peter, loftily. “Did not my great-granduncle, Peter Goldthwaite, who died seventy years ago, and whose namesake I am, leave treasure enough to build twenty such?”
“I can’t say but he did, Mr. Peter,” said Tabitha, threading her needle.
Tabitha well understood that Peter had reference to an immense hoard61 of the precious metals, which was said to exist somewhere in the cellar or walls, or under the floors, or in some concealed62 closet, or other out-of-the-way nook of the house. This wealth, according to tradition, had been accumulated by a former Peter Goldthwaite, whose character seems to have borne a remarkable63 similitude to that of the Peter of our story. Like him he was a wild projector64, seeking to heap up gold by the bushel and the cartload, instead of scraping it together, coin by coin. Like Peter the second, too, his projects had almost invariably failed, and, but for the magnificent success of the final one, would have left him with hardly a coat and pair of breeches to his gaunt and grizzled person. Reports were various as to the nature of his fortunate speculation18: one intimating that the ancient Peter had made the gold by alchemy; another, that he had conjured65 it out of people’s pockets by the black art; and a third, still more unaccountable, that the devil had given him free access to the old provincial66 treasury67. It was affirmed, however, that some secret impediment had debarred him from the enjoyment68 of his riches, and that he had a motive69 for concealing70 them from his heir, or at any rate had died without disclosing the place of deposit. The present Peter’s father had faith enough in the story to cause the cellar to be dug over. Peter himself chose to consider the legend as an indisputable truth, and, amid his many troubles, had this one consolation71 that, should all other resources fail, he might build up his fortunes by tearing his house down. Yet, unless he felt a lurking72 distrust of the golden tale, it is difficult to account for his permitting the paternal roof to stand so long, since he had never yet seen the moment when his predecessor’s treasure would not have found plenty of room in his own strong box. But now was the crisis. Should he delay the search a little longer, the house would pass from the lineal heir, and with it the vast heap of gold, to remain in its burial-place, till the ruin of the aged73 walls should discover it to strangers of a future generation.
“Yes!” cried Peter Goldthwaite, again, “to-morrow I will set about it.”
The deeper he looked at the matter the more certain of success grew Peter. His spirits were naturally so elastic74 that even now, in the blasted autumn of his age, he could often compete with the spring-time gayety of other people. Enlivened by his brightening prospects75, he began to caper76 about the kitchen like a hobgoblin, with the queerest antics of his lean limbs, and gesticulations of his starved features. Nay78, in the exuberance79 of his feelings, he seized both of Tabitha’s hands, and danced the old lady across the floor, till the oddity of her rheumatic motions set him into a roar of laughter, which was echoed back from the rooms and chambers80, as if Peter Goldthwaite were laughing in every one. Finally he bounded upward almost out of sight, into the smoke that clouded the roof of the kitchen, and, alighting safely on the floor again, endeavored to resume his customary gravity.
“To-morrow, at sunrise,” he repeated, taking his lamp to retire to bed, “I’ll see whether this treasure be hid in the wall of the garret.”
“And as we’re out of wood, Mr. Peter,” said Tabitha, puffing82 and panting with her late gymnastics, “as fast as you tear the house down, I’ll make a fire with the pieces.”
Gorgeous that night were the dreams of Peter Goldthwaite! At one time he was turning a ponderous83 key in an iron door not unlike the door of a sepulchre, but which, being opened, disclosed a vault84 heaped up with gold coin, as plentifully85 as golden corn in a granary. There were chased goblets86, also, and tureens, salvers, dinner dishes, and dish covers of gold, or silver gilt87, besides chains and other jewels, incalculably rich, though tarnished88 with the damps of the vault; for, of all the wealth that was irrevocably lost to the man, whether buried in the earth or sunken in the sea, Peter Goldthwaite had found it in this one treasure-place. Anon, he had returned to the old house as poor as ever, and was received at the door by the gaunt and grizzled figure of a man whom he might have mistaken for himself, only that his garments were of a much elder fashion. But the house, without losing its former aspect, had been changed into a palace of the precious metals. The floors, walls, and ceiling were of burnished89 silver; the doors, the window frames, the cornices, the balustrades and the steps of the staircase, of pure gold; and silver, with gold bottoms, were the chairs, and gold, standing on silver legs, the high chests of drawers, and silver the bedsteads, with blankets of woven gold, and sheets of silver tissue. The house had evidently been transmuted90 by a single touch; for it retained all the marks that Peter remembered, but in gold or silver instead of wood; and the initials of his name, which, when a boy, he had cut in the wooden door-post, remained as deep in the pillar of gold. A happy man would have been Peter Goldthwaite except for a certain ocular deception91, which, whenever he glanced backwards92, caused the house to darken from its glittering magnificence into the sordid93 gloom of yesterday.
Up, betimes, rose Peter, seized an axe94, hammer, and saw, which he had placed by his bedside, and hied him to the garret. It was but scantily95 lighted up, as yet, by the frosty fragments of a sunbeam, which began to glimmer96 through the almost opaque97 bull’s-eyes of the window. A moralizer might find abundant themes for his speculative98 and impracticable wisdom in a garret. There is the limbo99 of departed fashions, aged trifles. Of a day, and whatever was valuable only to one generation of men, and which passed to the garret when that generation passed to the grave, not for safe keeping, but to be out of the way. Peter saw piles of yellow and musty account-books, in parchment covers, wherein creditors, long dead and buried, had written the names of dead and buried debtors100 in ink now so faded that their moss-grown tombstones were more legible. He found old moth-eaten garments all in rags and tatters, or Peter would have put them on. Here was a naked and rusty sword, not a sword of service, but a gentleman’s small French rapier, which had never left its scabbard till it lost it. Here were canes101 of twenty different sorts, but no gold-headed ones, and shoe-buckles of various pattern and material, but not silver nor set with precious stones. Here was a large box full of shoes, with high heels and peaked toes. Here, on a shelf, were a multitude of phials, half-filled with old apothecaries’ stuff, which, when the other half had done its business on Peter’s ancestors, had been brought hither from the death chamber81. Here — not to give a longer inventory102 of articles that will never be put up at auction — was the fragment of a full-length looking-glass, which, by the dust and dimness of its surface, made the picture of these old things look older than the reality. When Peter not knowing that there was a mirror there, caught the faint traces of his own figure, he partly imagined that the former Peter Goldthwaite had come back, either to assist or impede103 his search for the hidden wealth. And at that moment a strange notion glimmered104 through his brain that he was the identical Peter who had concealed the gold, and ought to know whereabout it lay. This, however, he had unacountably forgotten.
“Well, Mr. Peter!” cried Tabitha, on the garret stairs. “Have you torn the house down enough to heat the teakettle?”
“Not yet, old Tabby,” answered Peter; “but that’s soon done — as you shall see.”
With the word in his mouth, he uplifted the axe, and laid about him so vigorously that the dust flew, the boards crashed, and, in a twinkling, the old woman had an apron105 full of broken rubbish.
“We shall get our winter’s wood cheap,” quoth Tabitha.
The good work being thus commenced, Peter beat down all before him, smiting106 and hewing107 at the joists and timbers, unclinching spike-nails, ripping and tearing away boards, with a tremendous racket, from morning till night. He took care, however, to leave the outside shell of the house untouched, so that the neighbors might not suspect what was going on.
Never, in any of his vagaries108, though each had made him happy while it lasted, had Peter been happier than now. Perhaps, after all, there was something in Peter Goldthwaite’s turn of mind, which brought him an inward recompense for all the external evil that it caused. If he were poor, ill-clad, even hungry, and exposed, as it were, to be utterly109 annihilated110 by a precipice111 of impending112 ruin, yet only his body remained in these miserable113 circumstances, while his aspiring114 soul enjoyed the sunshine of a bright futurity. It was his nature to be always young, and the tendency of his mode of life to keep him so. Gray hairs were nothing, no, nor wrinkles, nor infirmity; he might look old, indeed, and be somewhat disagreeably connected with a gaunt old figure, much the worse for wear; but the true, the essential Peter was a young man of high hopes, just entering on the world. At the kindling115 of each new fire, his burnt-out youth rose afresh from the old embers and ashes. It rose exulting116 now. Having lived thus long — not too long, but just to the right age — a susceptible117 bachelor, with warm and tender dreams, he resolved, so soon as the hidden gold should flash to light, to go a-wooing, and win the love of the fairest maid in town. What heart could resist him? Happy Peter Goldthwaite!
Every evening — as Peter had long absented himself from his former lounging-places, at insurance offices, news-rooms, and bookstores, and as the honor of his company was seldom requested in private circles — he and Tabitha used to sit down sociably118 by the kitchen hearth. This was always heaped plentifully with the rubbish of his day’s labor119. As the foundation of the fire, there would be a goodly-sized backlog120 of red oak, which, after being sheltered from rain or damp above a century, still hissed121 with the heat, and distilled122 streams of water from each end, as if the tree had been cut down within a week or two. Next these were large sticks, sound, black, and heavy, which had lost the principle of decay, and were indestructible except by fire, wherein they glowed like red-hot bars of iron. On this solid basis, Tabitha would rear a lighter123 structure, composed of the splinters of door panels, ornamented124 mouldings, and such quick combustibles, which caught like straw, and threw a brilliant blaze high up the spacious125 flue, making its sooty sides visible almost to the chimney-top. Meantime, the gleam of the old kitchen would be chased out of the cobwebbed corners and away from the dusky cross-beams overhead, and driven nobody could tell whither, while Peter smiled like a gladsome man, and Tabitha seemed a picture of comfortable age. All this, of course, was but an emblem126 of the bright fortune which the destruction of the house would shed upon its occupants.
While the dry pine was flaming and crackling, like an irregular discharge of fairy musketry, Peter sat looking and listening, in a pleasant state of excitement. But, when the brief blaze and uproar127 were succeeded by the dark-red glow, the substantial heat, and the deep singing sound, which were to last throughout the evening, his humor became talkative. One night, the hundredth time, he teased Tabitha to tell him something new about his great-granduncle.
“You have been sitting in that chimney-corner fifty-five years, old Tabby, and must have heard many a tradition about him,” said Peter. “Did not you tell me that, when you first came to the house, there was an old woman sitting where you sit now, who had been housekeeper128 to the famous Peter Goldthwaite?”
“So there was, Mr. Peter,” answered Tabitha, “and she was near about a hundred years old. She used to say that she and old Peter Goldthwaite had often spent a sociable129 evening by the kitchen fire — pretty much as you and I are doing now, Mr. Peter.”
“The old fellow must have resembled me in more points than one,” said Peter, complacently130, “or he never would have grown so rich. But, methinks, he might have invested the money better than he did — no interest! — nothing but good security! — and the house to be torn down to come at it! What made him hide it so snug, Tabby?”
“Because he could not spend it,” said Tabitha; “for as often as he went to unlock the chest, the Old Scratch came behind and caught his arm. The money, they say, was paid Peter out of his purse; and he wanted Peter to give him a deed of this house and land, which Peter swore he would not do.”
“Just as I swore to John Brown, my old partner,” remarked Peter. “But this is all nonsense, Tabby! I don’t believe the story.”
“Well, it may not be just the truth,” said Tabitha; “for some folks say that Peter did make over the house to the Old Scratch, and that’s the reason it has always been so unlucky to them that lived in it. And as soon as Peter had given him the deed, the chest flew open, and Peter caught up a handful of the gold. But, lo and behold131! — there was nothing in his fist but a parcel of old rags.”
“Hold your tongue, you silly old Tabby!” cried Peter in great wrath132. “They were as good golden guineas as ever bore the effigies133 of the king of England. It seems as if I could recollect134 the whole circumstance, and how I, or old Peter, or whoever it was, thrust in my hand, or his hand, and drew it out all of a blaze with gold. Old rags, indeed!”
But it was not an old woman’s legend that would discourage Peter Goldthwaite. All night long he slept among pleasant dreams, and awoke at daylight with a joyous135 throb136 of the heart, which few are fortunate enough to feel beyond their boyhood. Day after day he labored137 hard without wasting a moment, except at meal times, when Tabitha summoned him to the pork and cabbage, or such other sustenance138 as she had picked up, or Providence139 had sent them. Being a truly pious140 man, Peter never failed to ask a blessing141; if the food were none of the best, then so much the more earnestly, as it was more needed; — nor to return thanks, if the dinner had been scanty, yet for the good appetite, which was better than a sick stomach at a feast. Then did he hurry back to his toil142, and, in a moment, was lost to sight in a cloud of dust from the old walls, though sufficiently143 perceptible to the ear by the clatter144 which he raised in the midst of it. How enviable is the consciousness of being usefully employed! Nothing troubled Peter; or nothing but those phantoms145 of the mind which seem like vague recollections, yet have also the aspect of presentiments146. He often paused, with his axe uplifted in the air, and said to himself — “Peter Goldthwaite, did you never strike this blow before?” or, “Peter, what need of tearing the whole house down? Think a little while, and you will remember where the gold is hidden.” Days and weeks passed on, however, without any remarkable discovery. Sometimes, indeed, a lean, gray rat peeped forth147 at the lean, gray man, wondering what devil had got into the old house, which had always been so peaceable till now. And, occasionally, Peter sympathized with the sorrows of a female mouse, who had brought five or six pretty, little, soft and delicate young ones into the world just in time to see them crushed by its ruin. But, as yet, no treasure!
By this time, Peter, being as determined148 as Fate and as diligent149 as Time, had made an end with the uppermost regions, and got down to the second story, where he was busy in one of the front chambers. It had formerly150 been the state bed-chamber, and was honored by tradition as the sleeping apartment of Governor Dudley, and many other eminent151 guests. The furniture was gone. There were remnants of faded and tattered152 paper-hangings, but larger spaces of bare wall ornamented with charcoal153 sketches154, chiefly of people’s heads in profile. These being specimens156 of Peter’s youthful genius, it went more to his heart to obliterate157 them than if they had been pictures on a church wall by Michael Angelo. One sketch155, however, and that the best one, affected158 him differently. It represented a ragged man, partly supporting himself on a spade, and bending his lean body over a hole in the earth, with one hand extended to grasp something that he had found. But close behind him, with a fiendish laugh on his features, appeared a figure with horns, a tufted tail, and a cloven hoof159.
“Avaunt, Satan!” cried Peter. “The man shall have his gold!”
Uplifting his axe, he hit the horned gentleman such a blow on the head as not only demolished160 him, but the treasure-seeker also, and caused the whole scene to vanish like magic. Moreover, his axe broke quite through the plaster and laths, and discovered a cavity.
“Mercy on us, Mr. Peter, are you quarrelling with the Old Scratch?” said Tabitha, who was seeking some fuel to put under the pot.
Without answering the old woman, Peter broke down a further space of the wall, and laid open a small closet or cupboard, on one side of the fireplace, about breast high from the ground. It contained nothing but a brass161 lamp, covered with verdigris162, and a dusty piece of parchment. While Peter inspected the latter, Tabitha seized the lamp, and began to rub it with her apron.
“There is no use in rubbing it, Tabitha,” said Peter. “It is not Aladdin’s lamp, though I take it to be a token of as much luck. Look here Tabby!”
Tabitha took the parchment and held it close to her nose, which was saddled with a pair of iron-bound spectacles. But no sooner had she began to puzzle over it than she burst into a chuckling163 laugh, holding both her hands against her sides.
“You can’t make a fool of the old woman!” cried she. “This is your own handwriting, Mr. Peter! the same as in the letter you sent me from Mexico.”
“There is certainly a considerable resemblance,” said Peter, again examining the parchment. “But you know yourself, Tabby, that this closet must have been plastered up before you came to the house, or I came into the world. No, this is old Peter Goldthwaite’s writing; these columns of pounds, shillings, and pence are his figures, denoting the amount of the treasure; and this at the bottom is, doubtless, a reference to the place of concealment165. But the ink has either faded or peeled off, so that it is absolutely illegible166. What a pity!”
“Well, this lamp is as good as new. That’s some comfort,” said Tabitha.
“A lamp!” thought Peter. “That indicates light on my researches.”
For the present, Peter felt more inclined to ponder on this discovery than to resume his labors167. After Tabitha had gone down stairs, he stood poring over the parchment, at one of the front windows, which was so obscured with dust that the sun could barely throw an uncertain shadow of the casement168 across the floor. Peter forced it open, and looked out upon the great street of the town, while the sun looked in at his old house. The air, though mild, and even warm, thrilled Peter as with a dash of water.
It was the first day of the January thaw169. The snow lay deep upon the house-tops, but was rapidly dissolving into millions of water-drops, which sparkled downwards through the sunshine, with the noise of a summer shower beneath the eaves. Along the street, the trodden snow was as hard and solid as a pavement of white marble, and had not yet grown moist in the spring-like temperature. But when Peter thrust forth his head, he saw that the inhabitants, if not the town, were already thawed170 out by this warm day, after two or three weeks of winter weather. It gladdened him — a gladness with a sigh breathing through it — to see the stream of ladies, gliding171 along the slippery sidewalks, with their red cheeks set off by quilted hoods172, boas, and sable173 capes174, like roses amidst a new kind of foliage175. The sleigh-bells jingled177 to and fro continually: sometimes announcing the arrival of a sleigh from Vermont, laden178 with the frozen bodies of porkers, or sheep, and perhaps a deer or two; sometimes of a regular market-man, with chickens, geese, and turkeys, comprising the whole colony of a barn yard; and sometimes of a farmer and his dame179, who had come to town partly for the ride, partly to go a-shopping, and partly for the sale of some eggs and butter. This couple rode in an old-fashioned square sleigh, which had served them twenty winters, and stood twenty summers in the sun beside their door. Now, a gentleman and lady skimmed the snow in an elegant car, shaped somewhat like a cockle-shell. Now, a stage-sleigh, with its cloth curtains thrust aside to admit the sun, dashed rapidly down the street, whirling in and out among the vehicles that obstructed180 its passage. Now came, round a corner, the similitude of Noah’s ark on runners, being an immense open sleigh with seats for fifty people, and drawn181 by a dozen horses. This spacious receptacle was populous182 with merry maids and merry bachelors, merry girls and boys, and merry old folks, all alive with fun, and grinning to the full width of their mouths. They kept up a buzz of babbling183 voices and low laughter, and sometimes burst into a deep, joyous shout, which the spectators answered with three cheers, while a gang of roguish boys let drive their snowballs right among the pleasure party. The sleigh passed on, and, when concealed by a bend of the street, was still audible by a distant cry of merriment.
Never had Peter beheld184 a livelier scene than was constituted by all these accessories: the bright sun, the flashing water-drops, the gleaming snow, the cheerful multitude, the variety of rapid vehicles, and the jingle176 jangle of merry bells which made the heart dance to their music. Nothing dismal was to be seen, except that peaked piece of antiquity185, Peter Goldthwaite’s house, which might well look sad externally, since such a terrible consumption was preying186 on its insides. And Peter’s gaunt figure, half visible in the projecting second story, was worthy187 of his house.
“Peter! How goes it, friend Peter?” cried a voice across the street, as Peter was drawing in his head. “Look out here, Peter!”
Peter looked, and saw his old partner, Mr. John Brown, on the opposite sidewalk, portly and comfortable, with his furred cloak thrown open, disclosing a handsome surtout beneath. His voice had directed the attention of the whole town to Peter Goldthwaite’s window, and to the dusty scarecrow which appeared at it.
“I say, Peter,” cried Mr. Brown again, “what the devil are you about there, that I hear such a racket whenever I pass by? You are repairing the old house, I suppose — making a new one of it, eh?”
“Too late for that, I am afraid, Mr. Brown,” replied Peter. “If I make it new, it will be new inside and out, from the cellar upwards.”
“Had not you better let me take the job?” said Mr. Brown, significantly.
“Not yet!” answered Peter, hastily shutting the window; for, ever since he had been in search of the treasure, he hated to have people stare at him.
As he drew back, ashamed of his outward poverty, yet proud of the secret wealth within his grasp, a haughty188 smile shone out on Peter’s visage, with precisely the effect of the dim sunbeams in the squalid chamber. He endeavored to assume such a mien189 as his ancestor had probably worn, when he gloried in the building of a strong house for a home to many generations of his posterity190. But the chamber was very dark to his snow-dazzled eyes, and very dismal too, in contrast with the living scene that he had just looked upon. His brief glimpse into the street had given him a forcible impression of the manner in which the world kept itself cheerful and prosperous, by social pleasures and an intercourse191 of business, while he, in seclusion192, was pursuing an object that might possibly be a phantasm, by a method which most people would call madness. It is one great advantage of a gregarious193 mode of life that each person rectifies194 his mind by other minds, and squares his conduct to that of his neighbors, so as seldom to be lost in eccentricity195. Peter Goldthwaite had exposed himself to this influence by merely looking out of the window. For a while, he doubted whether there were any hidden chest of gold, and, in that case, whether he was so exceedingly wise to tear the house down, only to be convinced of its non-existence.
But this was momentary196. Peter, the Destroyer, resumed the task which fate had assigned him, nor faltered197 again till it was accomplished198. In the course of his search, he met with many things that are usually found in the ruins of an old house, and also with some that are not. What seemed most to the purpose was a rusty key, which had been thrust into a chink of the wall, with a wooden label appended to the handle, bearing the initials, P. G. Another singular discovery was that of a bottle of wine, walled up in an old oven. A tradition ran in the family, that Peter’s grandfather, a jovial199 officer in the old French War, had set aside many dozens of the precious liquor for the benefit of topers then unborn. Peter needed no cordial to sustain his hopes, and therefore kept the wine to gladden his success. Many halfpence did he pick up, that had been lost through the cracks of the floor, and some few Spanish coins, and the half of a broken sixpence, which had doubtless been a love token. There was likewise a silver coronation medal of George the Third. But old Peter Goldthwaite’s strong box fled from one dark corner to another, or otherwise eluded200 the second Peter’s clutches, till, should he seek much farther, he must burrow201 into the earth.
We will not follow him in his triumphant202 progress, step by step. Suffice it that Peter worked like a steam-engine, and finished, in that one winter, the job which all the former inhabitants of the house, with time and the elements to aid them, had only half done in a century. Except the kitchen, every room and chamber was now gutted203. The house was nothing but a shell — the apparition204 of a house — as unreal as the painted edifices of a theatre. It was like the perfect rind of a great cheese, in which a mouse had dwelt and nibbled205 till it was a cheese no more. And Peter was the mouse.
What Peter had torn down, Tabitha had burned up; for she wisely considered that, without a house, they should need no wood to warm it; and therefore economy was nonsense. Thus the whole house might be said to have dissolved in smoke, and flown up among the clouds, through the great black flue of the kitchen chimney. It was an admirable parallel to the feat77 of the man who jumped down his own throat.
On the night between the last day of winter and the first of spring, every chink and cranny had been ransacked206, except within the precincts of the kitchen. This fated evening was an ugly one. A snow-storm had set in some hours before, and was still driven and tossed about the atmosphere by a real hurricane, which fought against the house as if the prince of the air, in person, were putting the final stroke to Peter’s labors. The framework being so much weakened, and the inward props207 removed, it would have been no marvel208 if, in some stronger wrestle209 of the blast, the rotten walls of the edifice, and all the peaked roofs, had come crushing down upon the owner’s head. He, however, was careless of the peril210, but as wild and restless as the night itself, or as the flame that quivered up the chimney at each roar of the tempestuous211 wind.
“The wine, Tabitha!” he cried. “My grandfather’s rich old wine! We will drink it now!”
Tabitha arose from her smoke-blackened bench in the chimney-corner, and placed the bottle before Peter, close beside the old brass lamp, which had likewise been the prize of his researches. Peter held it before his eyes, and, looking through the liquid medium, beheld the kitchen illuminated212 with a golden glory, which also enveloped213 Tabitha and gilded214 her silver hair, and converted her mean garments into robes of queenly splendor215. It reminded him of his golden dream.
“Mr. Peter,” remarked Tabitha, “must the wine be drunk before the money is found?”
“The money IS found!” exclaimed Peter, with a sort of fierceness. “The chest is within my reach. I will not sleep, till I have turned this key in the rusty lock. But, first of all, let us drink!”
There being no corkscrew in the house, he smote the neck of the bottle with old Peter Goldthwaite’s rusty key, and decapitated the sealed cork216 at a single blow. He then filled two little china teacups, which Tabitha had brought from the cupboard. So clear and brilliant was this aged wine that it shone within the cups, and rendered the sprig of scarlet217 flowers, at the bottom of each, more distinctly visible than when there had been no wine there. Its rich and delicate perfume wasted itself round the kitchen.
“Drink, Tabitha!” cried Peter. “Blessings on the honest old fellow who set aside this good liquor for you and me! And here’s to Peter Goldthwaite’s memory!”
“And good cause have we to remember him,” quoth Tabitha, as she drank.
How many years, and through what changes of fortune and various calamity218, had that bottle hoarded219 up its effervescent joy, to be quaffed220 at last by two such boon221 companions! A portion of the happiness of the former age had been kept for them, and was now set free, in a crowd of rejoicing visions, to sport amid the storm and desolation of the present time. Until they have finished the bottle, we must turn our eyes elsewhere.
It so chanced that, on this stormy night, Mr. John Brown found himself ill at ease in his wire-cushioned arm-chair, by the glowing grate of anthracite which heated his handsome parlor222. He was naturally a good sort of a man, and kind and pitiful whenever the misfortunes of others happened to reach his heart through the padded vest of his own prosperity. This evening he had thought much about his old partner, Peter Goldthwaite, his strange vagaries, and continual ill luck, the poverty of his dwelling223, at Mr. Brown’s last visit, and Peter’s crazed and haggard aspect when he had talked with him at the window.
“Poor fellow!” thought Mr. John Brown. “Poor, crackbrained Peter Goldthwaite! For old acquaintance’ sake, I ought to have taken care that he was comfortable this rough winter.”
These feelings grew so powerful that, in spite of the inclement224 weather, he resolved to visit Peter Goldthwaite immediately. The strength of the impulse was really singular. Every shriek225 of the blast seemed a summons, or would have seemed so, had Mr. Brown been accustomed to hear the echoes of his own fancy in the wind. Much amazed at such active benevolence226, he huddled227 himself in his cloak, muffled228 his throat and ears in comforters and handkerchiefs, and, thus fortified229, bade defiance230 to the tempest. But the powers of the air had rather the best of the battle. Mr. Brown was just weathering the corner, by Peter Goldthwaite’s house, when the hurricane caught him off his feet, tossed him face downward into a snow bank, and proceeded to bury his protuberant231 part beneath fresh drifts. There seemed little hope of his reappearance earlier than the next thaw. At the same moment his hat was snatched away, and whirled aloft into some far distant region, whence no tidings have as yet returned.
Nevertheless Mr. Brown contrived to burrow a passage through the snow-drift, and, with his bare head bent232 against the storm, floundered onward233 to Peter’s door. There was such a creaking and groaning and rattling234, and such an ominous235 shaking throughout the crazy edifice, that the loudest rap would have been inaudible to those within. He therefore entered, without ceremony, and groped his way to the kitchen.
His intrusion, even there, was unnoticed. Peter and Tabitha stood with their backs to the door, stooping over a large chest, which, apparently236, they had just dragged from a cavity, or concealed closet, on the left side of the chimney. By the lamp in the old woman’s hand, Mr. Brown saw that the chest was barred and clamped with iron, strengthened with iron plates and studded with iron nails, so as to be a fit receptacle in which the wealth of one century might be hoarded up for the wants of another. Peter Goldthwaite was inserting a key into the lock.
“O Tabitha!” cried he, with tremulous rapture237, “how shall I endure the effulgence238? The gold! — the bright, bright gold! Methinks I can remember my last glance at it, just as the iron-plated lid fell down. And ever since, being seventy years, it has been blazing in secret, and gathering its splendor against this glorious moment! It will flash upon us like the noonday sun!”
“Then shade your eyes, Mr. Peter!” said Tabitha, with somewhat less patience than usual. “But, for mercy’s sake, do turn the key!”
And, with a strong effort of both hands, Peter did force the rusty key through the intricacies of the rusty lock. Mr. Brown, in the mean time, had drawn near, and thrust his eager visage between those of the other two, at the instant that Peter threw up the lid. No sudden blaze illuminated the kitchen.
“What’s here?” exclaimed Tabitha, adjusting her spectacles, and holding the lamp over the open chest. “Old Peter Goldthwaite’s hoard of old rags.”
“Pretty much so, Tabby,” said Mr. Brown, lifting a handful of the treasure.
Oh, what a ghost of dead and buried wealth had Peter Goldthwaite raised, to scare himself out of his scanty wits withal! Here was the semblance164 of an incalculable sum, enough to purchase the whole town, and build every street anew, but which, vast as it was, no sane239 man would have given a solid sixpence for. What then, in sober earnest, were the delusive240 treasures of the chest? Why, here were old provincial bills of credit, and treasury notes, and bills of land, banks, and all other bubbles of the sort, from the first issue, above a century and a half ago, down nearly to the Revolution. Bills of a thousand pounds were intermixed with parchment pennies, and worth no more than they.
“And this, then, is old Peter Goldthwaite’s treasure!” said John Brown. “Your namesake, Peter, was something like yourself; and, when the provincial currency had depreciated241 fifty or seventy-five per cent., he bought it up in expectation of a rise. I have heard my grandfather say that old Peter gave his father a mortgage of this very house and land, to raise cash for his silly project. But the currency kept sinking, till nobody would take it as a gift; and there was old Peter Goldthwaite, like Peter the second, with thousands in his strong box and hardly a coat to his back. He went mad upon the strength of it. But, never mind, Peter! It is just the sort of capital for building castles in the air.”
“The house will be down about our ears!” cried Tabitha, as the wind shook it with increasing violence.
“Let it fall!” said Peter, folding his arms, as he seated himself upon the chest.
“No, no, my old friend Peter,” said John Brown. “I have house room for you and Tabby, and a safe vault for the chest of treasure. To-morrow we will try to come to an agreement about the sale of this old house. Real estate is well up, and I could afford you a pretty handsome price.”
“And I,” observed Peter Goldthwaite, with reviving spirits, “have a plan for laying out the cash to great advantage.”
“Why, as to that,” muttered John Brown to himself, “we must apply to the next court for a guardian242 to take care of the solid cash; and if Peter insists upon speculating, he may do it, to his heart’s content, with old PETER GOLDTHWAITE’S TREASURE.”
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
positively
|
|
| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
mansion
|
|
| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
mortar
|
|
| n.灰浆，灰泥；迫击炮；v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
edifice
|
|
| n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿，教室) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
edifices
|
|
| n.大建筑物( edifice的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
underneath
|
|
| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
precisely
|
|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
banking
|
|
| n.银行业，银行学，金融业 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
jointly
|
|
| ad.联合地，共同地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
incongruity
|
|
| n.不协调，不一致 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
constituent
|
|
| n.选民；成分，组分；adj.组成的，构成的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
plodding
|
|
| a.proceeding in a slow or dull way | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
prospered
|
|
| 成功，兴旺( prosper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
needy
|
|
| adj.贫穷的，贫困的，生活艰苦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
briefly
|
|
| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
speculations
|
|
| n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 )；思考；投机活动；推断 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
speculation
|
|
| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
lottery
|
|
| n.抽彩；碰运气的事，难于算计的事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
gathering
|
|
| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
contrived
|
|
| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
bullion
|
|
| n.金条，银条 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
expended
|
|
| v.花费( expend的过去式和过去分词 )；使用（钱等）做某事；用光；耗尽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
legacy
|
|
| n.遗产，遗赠；先人(或过去)留下的东西 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
thereby
|
|
| adv.因此，从而 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
proprietor
|
|
| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
situated
|
|
| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
beckoned
|
|
| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
rusty
|
|
| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
scattered
|
|
| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
paternal
|
|
| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
auction
|
|
| n.拍卖；拍卖会；vt.拍卖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
fatality
|
|
| n.不幸，灾祸，天命 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
verge
|
|
| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
creditors
|
|
| n.债权人，债主( creditor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
mortified
|
|
| v.使受辱( mortify的过去式和过去分词 )；伤害（人的感情）；克制；抑制（肉体、情感等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
downwards
|
|
| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
partially
|
|
| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
scanty
|
|
| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
demon
|
|
| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
mischief
|
|
| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
depressed
|
|
| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
uneven
|
|
| adj.不平坦的，不规则的，不均匀的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
hearth
|
|
| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
disconsolate
|
|
| adj.忧郁的，不快的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
kindle
|
|
| v.点燃，着火 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
clinched
|
|
| v.（尤指两人）互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的过去式和过去分词 )；解决（争端、交易），达成（协议） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
smote
|
|
| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
folly
|
|
| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
cavern
|
|
| n.洞穴，大山洞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
ragged
|
|
| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
flannel
|
|
| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
upwards
|
|
| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
morsel
|
|
| n.一口，一点点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
follies
|
|
| 罪恶，时事讽刺剧； 愚蠢，蠢笨，愚蠢的行为、思想或做法( folly的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
groaning
|
|
| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
dismal
|
|
| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
hoard
|
|
| n./v.窖藏，贮存，囤积 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
concealed
|
|
| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
remarkable
|
|
| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
projector
|
|
| n.投影机，放映机，幻灯机 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
conjured
|
|
| 用魔术变出( conjure的过去式和过去分词 )； 祈求，恳求； 变戏法； （变魔术般地） 使…出现 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
provincial
|
|
| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
treasury
|
|
| n.宝库；国库，金库；文库 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
enjoyment
|
|
| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
motive
|
|
| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
concealing
|
|
| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
consolation
|
|
| n.安慰，慰问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
lurking
|
|
| 潜在 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
aged
|
|
| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
elastic
|
|
| n.橡皮圈，松紧带；adj.有弹性的；灵活的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
prospects
|
|
| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
caper
|
|
| v.雀跃，欢蹦；n.雀跃，跳跃；续随子，刺山柑花蕾；嬉戏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
feat
|
|
| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
nay
|
|
| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
exuberance
|
|
| n.丰富；繁荣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
chambers
|
|
| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
chamber
|
|
| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
puffing
|
|
| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
ponderous
|
|
| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
vault
|
|
| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
plentifully
|
|
| adv. 许多地，丰饶地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
goblets
|
|
| n.高脚酒杯( goblet的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
gilt
|
|
| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
tarnished
|
|
| （通常指金属）（使）失去光泽，（使）变灰暗( tarnish的过去式和过去分词 )； 玷污，败坏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
burnished
|
|
| adj.抛光的，光亮的v.擦亮（金属等），磨光( burnish的过去式和过去分词 )；被擦亮，磨光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
transmuted
|
|
| v.使变形，使变质，把…变成…( transmute的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
deception
|
|
| n.欺骗，欺诈；骗局，诡计 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
backwards
|
|
| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
sordid
|
|
| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
axe
|
|
| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
scantily
|
|
| adv.缺乏地；不充足地；吝啬地；狭窄地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
glimmer
|
|
| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
opaque
|
|
| adj.不透光的；不反光的，不传导的；晦涩的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
speculative
|
|
| adj.思索性的，暝想性的，推理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
limbo
|
|
| n.地狱的边缘；监狱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
debtors
|
|
| n.债务人，借方( debtor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
canes
|
|
| n.（某些植物，如竹或甘蔗的）茎( cane的名词复数 )；（用于制作家具等的）竹竿；竹杖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
inventory
|
|
| n.详细目录，存货清单 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
impede
|
|
| v.妨碍，阻碍，阻止 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
glimmered
|
|
| v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
apron
|
|
| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
smiting
|
|
| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
hewing
|
|
| v.（用斧、刀等）砍、劈( hew的现在分词 )；砍成；劈出；开辟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
vagaries
|
|
| n.奇想( vagary的名词复数 )；异想天开；异常行为；难以预测的情况 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
annihilated
|
|
| v.（彻底）消灭( annihilate的过去式和过去分词 )；使无效；废止；彻底击溃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
precipice
|
|
| n.悬崖，危急的处境 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
impending
|
|
| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
aspiring
|
|
| adj.有志气的；有抱负的；高耸的v.渴望；追求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
kindling
|
|
| n. 点火, 可燃物 动词kindle的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
exulting
|
|
| vi. 欢欣鼓舞，狂喜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
susceptible
|
|
| adj.过敏的，敏感的；易动感情的，易受感动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
sociably
|
|
| adv.成群地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
labor
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
backlog
|
|
| n.积压未办之事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
hissed
|
|
| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
distilled
|
|
| adj.由蒸馏得来的v.蒸馏( distil的过去式和过去分词 )；从…提取精华 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
lighter
|
|
| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
ornamented
|
|
| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
spacious
|
|
| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
emblem
|
|
| n.象征，标志；徽章 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
uproar
|
|
| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
housekeeper
|
|
| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
sociable
|
|
| adj.好交际的，友好的，合群的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
complacently
|
|
| adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
behold
|
|
| v.看，注视，看到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
wrath
|
|
| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
effigies
|
|
| n.（人的）雕像，模拟像，肖像( effigy的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
recollect
|
|
| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
joyous
|
|
| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
throb
|
|
| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
labored
|
|
| adj.吃力的，谨慎的v.努力争取(for)( labor的过去式和过去分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
sustenance
|
|
| n.食物，粮食；生活资料；生计 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
providence
|
|
| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
pious
|
|
| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
blessing
|
|
| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
toil
|
|
| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
clatter
|
|
| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
phantoms
|
|
| n.鬼怪，幽灵( phantom的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
presentiments
|
|
| n.（对不祥事物的）预感( presentiment的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
diligent
|
|
| adj.勤勉的，勤奋的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
150
formerly
|
|
| adv.从前，以前 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
151
eminent
|
|
| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
tattered
|
|
| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
153
charcoal
|
|
| n.炭，木炭，生物炭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
154
sketches
|
|
| n.草图( sketch的名词复数 )；素描；速写；梗概 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
155
sketch
|
|
| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
156
specimens
|
|
| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
157
obliterate
|
|
| v.擦去，涂抹，去掉...痕迹，消失，除去 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
158
affected
|
|
| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
159
hoof
|
|
| n.(马，牛等的)蹄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
160
demolished
|
|
| v.摧毁( demolish的过去式和过去分词 )；推翻；拆毁（尤指大建筑物）；吃光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
161
brass
|
|
| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
162
verdigris
|
|
| n.铜锈；铜绿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
163
chuckling
|
|
| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
164
semblance
|
|
| n.外貌，外表 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
165
concealment
|
|
| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
166
illegible
|
|
| adj.难以辨认的，字迹模糊的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
167
labors
|
|
| v.努力争取(for)( labor的第三人称单数 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
168
casement
|
|
| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
169
thaw
|
|
| v.（使）融化，（使）变得友善；n.融化，缓和 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
170
thawed
|
|
| 解冻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
171
gliding
|
|
| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
172
hoods
|
|
| n.兜帽( hood的名词复数 )；头巾；（汽车、童车等的）折合式车篷；汽车发动机罩v.兜帽( hood的第三人称单数 )；头巾；（汽车、童车等的）折合式车篷；汽车发动机罩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
173
sable
|
|
| n.黑貂；adj.黑色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
174
capes
|
|
| 碎谷； 斗篷( cape的名词复数 )； 披肩； 海角； 岬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
175
foliage
|
|
| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
176
jingle
|
|
| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
177
jingled
|
|
| 喝醉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
178
laden
|
|
| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
179
dame
|
|
| n.女士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
180
obstructed
|
|
| 阻塞( obstruct的过去式和过去分词 )； 堵塞； 阻碍； 阻止 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
181
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
182
populous
|
|
| adj.人口稠密的，人口众多的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
183
babbling
|
|
| n.胡说，婴儿发出的咿哑声adj.胡说的v.喋喋不休( babble的现在分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
184
beheld
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
185
antiquity
|
|
| n.古老；高龄；古物，古迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
186
preying
|
|
| v.掠食( prey的现在分词 )；掠食；折磨；（人）靠欺诈为生 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
187
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
188
haughty
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
189
mien
|
|
| n.风采；态度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
190
posterity
|
|
| n.后裔，子孙，后代 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
191
intercourse
|
|
| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
192
seclusion
|
|
| n.隐遁，隔离 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
193
gregarious
|
|
| adj.群居的，喜好群居的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
194
rectifies
|
|
| 改正，矫正( rectify的第三人称单数 )； 精馏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
195
eccentricity
|
|
| n.古怪，反常，怪癖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
196
momentary
|
|
| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
197
faltered
|
|
| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
198
accomplished
|
|
| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
199
jovial
|
|
| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
200
eluded
|
|
| v.（尤指机敏地）避开( elude的过去式和过去分词 )；逃避；躲避；使达不到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
201
burrow
|
|
| vt.挖掘(洞穴)；钻进；vi.挖洞；翻寻；n.地洞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
202
triumphant
|
|
| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
203
gutted
|
|
| adj.容易消化的v.毁坏（建筑物等）的内部( gut的过去式和过去分词 )；取出…的内脏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
204
apparition
|
|
| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
205
nibbled
|
|
| v.啃，一点一点地咬（吃）( nibble的过去式和过去分词 )；啃出（洞），一点一点咬出（洞）；慢慢减少；小口咬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
206
ransacked
|
|
| v.彻底搜查( ransack的过去式和过去分词 )；抢劫，掠夺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
207
props
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
208
marvel
|
|
| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
209
wrestle
|
|
| vi.摔跤，角力；搏斗；全力对付 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
210
peril
|
|
| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
211
tempestuous
|
|
| adj.狂暴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
212
illuminated
|
|
| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
213
enveloped
|
|
| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
214
gilded
|
|
| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
215
splendor
|
|
| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
216
cork
|
|
| n.软木，软木塞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
217
scarlet
|
|
| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
218
calamity
|
|
| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
219
hoarded
|
|
| v.积蓄并储藏（某物）( hoard的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
220
quaffed
|
|
| v.痛饮( quaff的过去式和过去分词 )；畅饮；大口大口将…喝干；一饮而尽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
221
boon
|
|
| n.恩赐，恩物，恩惠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
222
parlor
|
|
| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
223
dwelling
|
|
| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
224
inclement
|
|
| adj.严酷的，严厉的，恶劣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
225
shriek
|
|
| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
226
benevolence
|
|
| n.慈悲，捐助 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
227
huddled
|
|
| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
228
muffled
|
|
| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
229
fortified
|
|
| adj. 加强的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
230
defiance
|
|
| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
231
protuberant
|
|
| adj.突出的，隆起的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
232
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
233
onward
|
|
| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
234
rattling
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
235
ominous
|
|
| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
236
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
237
rapture
|
|
| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
238
effulgence
|
|
| n.光辉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
239
sane
|
|
| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
240
delusive
|
|
| adj.欺骗的，妄想的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
241
depreciated
|
|
| v.贬值，跌价，减价( depreciate的过去式和过去分词 )；贬低，蔑视，轻视 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
242
guardian
|
|
| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |