Pony4 is very enterprising. We are soon at the top of the first long hill, and look again, for the last time, upon the Acadian village. How cosily5 and quietly it is nestled down amid those graceful6 green slopes! What a bit of poetry it is in itself! Jog on, Pony!
The corporate7 authority of Three Fathom Harbor has been improving his time during our absence. As we drive up we find him in high romp with a brace8 of buxom9, red-cheeked, Nova Scotia girls, who have just alighted from a wagon10. The landlady11 of Three Fathom Harbor, in her matronly cap, is smiling over the little garden gate at her lord, who is pursuing his Daphnes, and catching13, and kissing, and hugging, first one and then the other, to his heart's content. Notwithstanding their[Pg 59] screams, and slaps, and robust14 struggles, it is very plain to be seen that the skipper's attentions are not very unwelcome. Leaving his fair friends, he catches Pony by the bridle15 and stops us with a hospitable—"Come in—you must come in; just a glass of ale, you'll want it;" and sure enough, we found when we came to taste the ale, that we did want it, and many thanks to him, the kind-hearted landlord of the Three Fathoms16.
"It is surprising," said I to my companion, as we rolled again over the road, "that these people, these Acadians, should still preserve their language and customs, so near to your principal city, and yet with no more affiliation17 than if they were on an island in the South Seas!"
"The reason of that," he replied, "is because they stick to their own settlement; never see anything of the world except Halifax early in the morning; never marry out of their own set; never read—I do not believe one of them can read or write—and are in fact so slow, so destitute18 of enterprise, so much behind the age"——
I could not avoid smiling. My companion observed it. "What are you thinking about?" said he.
The truth is, I was thinking of Halifax, which was anything but a fast place; but I simply observed:
"Your settlements here are somewhat novel to a[Pg 60] stranger. That a mere19 handful of men should be so near your city, and yet so isolated20: that this village of a few hundred only, should retain its customs and language, intact, for generation after generation, within walking distance of Halifax, seems to me unaccountable. But let me ask you," I continued, "what is the moral condition of the Acadians?"
"As for that," said he, "I believe it stands pretty fair. I do not think an Acadian would cheat, lie, or steal; I know that the women are virtuous21, and if I had a thousand pounds in my pocket I could sleep with confidence in any of their houses, although all the doors were unlocked and everybody in the village knew it."
"That," said I, "reminds one of the poem:
'Neither locks had they to their doors, nor bars to their windows,
But their dwellings22 were open as day and the hearts of their owners;
There the richest was poor, and the poorest lived in abundance.'"
Poor exiles! You will never see the Gasperau and the shore of the Basin of Minas, but if this very feeble life I have holds out, I hope to visit Grandpré and the broad meadows that gave a name to the village.
One thing Longfellow has certainly omitted in "Evangeline"—the wild flowers of Acadia. The[Pg 61] roadside is all fringed and tasselled with white, pink, and purple. The wild strawberries are in blossom, whitening the turf all the way from Halifax to Chezzetcook. You see their starry23 settlements thick in every bit of turf. These are the silver mines of poor Cuffee; he has the monopoly of the berry trade. It is his only revenue. Then in the swampy24 grounds there are long green needles in solitary25 groups, surmounted26 with snowy tufts; and here and there, clusters of light purple blossoms, called laurel flowers, but not like our laurels27, spring up from the bases of grey rocks and boulders28; sometimes a rich array of blood-red berries gleams out of a mass of greenery; then again great floral white radii29, tipped with snowy petals30, rise up profuse31 and lofty; down by the ditches hundreds of pitcher32 plants lift their veined and mottled vases, brimming with water, to the wood-birds who drink and perch33 upon their thick rims34; May-flowers of delightful35 fragrance36 hide beneath those shining, tropical-looking leaves, and meadow-sweet, not less fragrant37, but less beautiful, pours its tender aroma38 into the fresh air; here again we see the buckthorn in blossom; there, scattered39 on the turf, the scarlet40 partridge berry; then wild-cherry trees, mere shrubs41 only, in full bud; and around all and above all, the evergreens42, the murmuring pines, and the hemlocks;[Pg 62] the rampikes—the grey-beards of the primeval forest; the spicy43 breath of resinous44 balsams; the spiry45 tops, and the serene46 heaven. Is this fairy land? No, it is only poor, old, barren Nova Scotia, and yet I think Felix, Prince of Salerno, if he were here, might say, and say truly too, "In all my life I never beheld47 a more enchanting48 place;" but Felix, Prince of Salerno, must remember this is the month of June, and summer is not perpetual in the latitude49 of forty-five.
We reach at last Deer's Castle. Pony, under the hands of Bill, seems remarkably50 cheerful and fresh after his long travel up hill and down. When he pops out of his harness, with his knock-knees and sturdy, stocky little frame, he looks very like an animated51 saw-buck, clothed in seal-skin; and with a jump, and snort, and flourish of tail, he escorts Bill to the stable, as if twenty miles over a rough road was a trifle not worth consideration.
A savory52 odor of frying bacon and eggs stole forth53 from the door as we sat, in the calm summer air, upon the stone fence. William Deer, Jr., was wandering about in front of the castle, endeavoring to get control of his under lip and keep his exuberant54 mirth within the limits of decorum; but every instant, to use a military figure, it would flash in the pan. Up on the bare rocks were the wretched, woe-[Pg 63]begone, patched, and ragged55 log huts of poor Cuffee. The hour and the season were suggestive of philosophizing, of theories, and questions.
"Mrs. Deer," said I, "is that your husband's portrait on the back of the sign?" (there was a picture of a stag with antlers on the reverse of the poetical56 swing-board, either intended as a pictographic pun upon the name of "Deer," or as a hint to sportsmen of good game hereabouts).
"Why," replied Mrs. Deer, an old tidy wench, of fifty, pretty well bent57 by rheumatism58, and so square in the lower half of her figure, and so spare in the upper, that she appeared to have been carved out of her own hips59: "why, as to dat, he ain't good-looking to brag60 on, but I don't think he looks quite like a beast neither."
At this unexpected retort, Bill flashed off so many pans at once that he seemed to be a platoon of militia61. My companion also enjoyed it immensely. Being an invalid62, I could not participate in the general mirth.
"Mrs. Deer," said I, "how long have you lived here?"
"Oh, sah! a good many years; I cum here afore I had Bill dar." (Here William flashed in the pan twice.)[Pg 64]
"Where did you reside before you came to Nova Scotia?"
"Sah?"
"Where did you live?"
"Oh, sah! I is from Maryland." (William at it again.)
"Did you run away?"
"Yes, sah; I left when I was young. Bill, what you laughing at? I was young once."
"Were you married then—when you run away?"
"Oh yes, sah!" (a glance at Bill, who was off again).
"And left your husband behind in Maryland?"
"Yes, sah; but he didn't stay long dar after I left. He was after me putty sharp, soon as I travelled;" (here Mrs. Deer and William interchanged glances, and indulged freely in mirth).
"And which place do you like the best—this or Maryland?"
"Why, I never had no such work to do at home as I have to do here, grubbin' up old stumps63 and stones; dem isn't women's work. When I was home, I had only to wait on misses, and work was light and easy." (William quiet.)
"But which place do you like the best—Nova Scotia or Maryland?"
"Oh! de work here is awful, grubbin' up old[Pg 65] stones and stumps; 'tain't fit for women." (William much impressed with the cogency64 of this repetition.)
"But which place do you like the best?"
"And de winter here, oh! it's wonderful tryin." (William utters an affirmative flash.)
"But which place do you like the best?"
"And den12 dere's de rheumatiz."
"But which place do you like the best, Mrs. Deer?"
"Well," said Mrs. Deer, glancing at Bill, "I like Nova Scotia best." (Whatever visions of Maryland were gleaming in William's mind, seemed to be entirely65 quenched66 by this remark.)
"But why," said I, "do you prefer Nova Scotia to Maryland? Here you have to work so much harder, to suffer so much from the cold and the rheumatism, and get so little for it;" for I could not help looking over the green patch of stony67 grass that has been rescued by the labor68 of a quarter century.
"Oh!" replied Mrs. Deer, "de difference is, dat when I work here, I work for myself, and when I was working at home, I was working for other people." (At this, William broke forth again in such a series of platoon flashes, that we all joined in with infinite merriment.)[Pg 66]
"Mrs. Deer," said I, recovering my gravity, "I want to ask you one more question."
"Well, sah," said the lady Deer, cocking her head on one side, expressive69 of being able to answer any number of questions in a twinkling.
"You have, no doubt, still many relatives left in Maryland?"
"Oh! yes," replied Mrs. Deer, "all of dem are dar."
"And suppose you had a chance to advise them in regard to this matter, would you tell them to run away, and take their part with you in Nova Scotia, or would you advise them to stay where they are?"
Mrs. Deer, at this, looked a long time at William, and William looked earnestly at his parent. Then she cocked her head on the other side, to take a new view of the question. Then she gathered up mouth and eyebrows70, in a puzzle, and again broadened out upon Bill in an odd kind of smile; at last she doubled up one fist, put it against her cheek, glanced at Bill, and out came the answer: "Well, sah, I'd let 'em take dere own heads for dat!" I must confess the philosophy of this remark awakened71 in me a train of very grave reflections; but my companion burst into a most obstreperous72 laugh. As for Mrs. Deer, she shook her old hips as long as she could stand, and then sat down and[Pg 67] continued, until she wiped the tears out of her eyes with the corner of her apron73. William cast himself down upon a strawberry bank, and gave way to the most flagrant mirth, kicking up his old shoes in the air, and fairly wallowing in laughter and blossoms. I endeavored to change the subject. "Bill, did you catch any trout74?" It was some time before William could control himself enough to say, "Not a single one, sah;" and then he rolled over on his back, put his black paws up to his eyes, and twitched75 and jingled76 to his heart's content. I did not ask Mrs. Deer any more questions; but there is a moral in the story, enough for a day.
As we rattled77 over the road, after our brief dinner at Deer's Castle, I could not avoid a pervading78 feeling of gloom and disappointment, in spite of the balmy air and pretty landscape. The old ragged abodes79 of wretchedness seemed to be too clearly defined—to stand out too intrusively80 against the bright blue sky. But why should I feel so much for Cuffee? Has he not enlisted81 in his behalf every philanthropist in England? Is he not within ten miles of either the British flag or Acadia? Does not the Duchess of Sutherland entertain the authoress of Uncle Tom's Cabin, and the Black Swan? Why should I sorrow for Cuffee, when he is in the midst of his best friends? Why should I pretend[Pg 68] to say that this appears to be the raggedest, the meanest, the worst condition of humanity, when the papers are constantly lauding82 British philanthropy, and holding it up as a great example, which we must "bow down and worship?" For my own part, although the pleasant fiction of seeing Cuffee clothed, educated, and Christianized, seemed to be somewhat obscured in this glimpse of his real condition, yet I hope he will do well under his new owners; at the very least, I trust his berry crop will be good, and that a benevolent83 British blanket or two may enable him to shiver out the winter safely, if not comfortably. Poor William Deer, Sen'r, of Deer's Castle, was suffering with rheumatism in the next apartment, while we were at his eggs and bacon in the banquet hall; but Deer of Deer's Castle is a prince to his neighbors. I shall not easily forget the brightening eye, the swift glance of intelligence in the face of another old negro, an hostler, in Nova Scotia. He was from Virginia, and adopting the sweet, mellifluous84 language of his own home, I asked him whether he liked best to stay where he was, or go back to "Old Virginny?" "O massa!" said he, with such a look, "you must know dat I has de warmest side for my own country!"
We rattled soberly into Dartmouth, and took the[Pg 69] ferry-boat across the bay to the city. At the hotel there was no little questioning about Chezzetcook, for some of the Halifax merchants are at the Waverley. "Goed bless ye, what took ye to Chizzencook?" said one, "I never was there een in my life; ther's no bizz'ness ther, noathing to be seen: ai doant think there is a maen in Halifax scairsly, 'as ever seen the place."
At the supper-table, while we were discussing, over the cheese and ale, the Chezzetcook and negro settlements, and exhibiting with no little vainglory a gorgeous bunch of wild flowers (half of which vanity my compagnon de voyage is accountable for), there was a young English-Irish gentleman, well built, well featured, well educated: by name—I shall call him Picton.
Picton took much interest in Deer's Castle and Chezzetcook, but slily and satirically. I do not think this the best way for a young man to begin with; but nevertheless, Picton managed so well to keep his sarcasms85 within the bounds of good humor, that before eleven o'clock we had become pretty well acquainted. At eleven o'clock the gas is turned off at Hotel Waverley. We went to bed, and renewed the acquaintance at breakfast. Picton had travelled overland from Montreal to take the "Canada" for Liverpool, and had arrived too late.[Pg 70] Picton had nearly a fortnight before him in which to anticipate the next steamer. Picton was terribly bored with Halifax. Picton wanted to go somewhere—where?—"he did not care where." The consequence was a consultation86 upon the best disposal of a fortnight of waste time, a general survey of the maritime87 craft of Halifax, the selection of the schooner "Balaklava," bound for Sydney in ballast, and an understanding with the captain, that the old French town of Louisburgh was the point we wished to arrive at, into which harbor we expected to be put safely—three hundred and odd miles from Halifax, and this side of Sydney about sixty-two miles by sea. To all this did captain Capstan "seriously incline," and the result was, two berths88 in the "Balaklava," several cans of preserved meats and soups, a hamper89 of ale, two bottles of Scotch90 whisky, a ramshackle, Halifax van for the luggage, a general shaking of hands at departure, and another set of white sails among the many white sails in the blue harbor of Chebucto.
The "Balaklava" glimmered91 out of the harbor. Slowly and gently we swept past the islands and great ships; there on the shore is Point Pleasant in full uniform, its red soldiers and yellow tents in the thick of the pines and spruces; yonder is the admiralty, and the "Boscawen" seventy-four, the[Pg 71] receiving-ship, a French war-steamer, and merchantmen of all flags. Slowly and gently we swept out past the round fort and long barracks, past the lighthouse and beaches, out upon the tranquil92 ocean, with its ominous93 fog-banks on the skirts of the horizon; out upon the evening sea, with the summer air fanning our faces, and a large white Acadian moon, faintly defined overhead.
Picton was a traveller; anybody could see that he was a traveller, and if he had then been in any part of the habitable globe, in Scotland or Tartary, Peru or Pennsylvania, there would not have been the least doubt about the fact that he was a traveller travelling on his travels. He looked like a traveller, and was dressed like a traveller. He had a travelling-cap, a travelling-coat, a portable-desk, a life-preserver, a water-proof blanket, a travelling-shirt, a travelling green leather satchel94 strapped95 across his shoulder, a Minié-rifle, several trunks adorned96 with geographical97 railway labels of all colors and languages, cork-soled boots, a pocket-compass, and a hand-organ. As for the hand-organ, that was an accident in his outfit98. The hand-organ was a present for a little boy on the other side of the ocean; but nevertheless, it played its part very pleasantly in the cabin of the "Balaklava." And now let me observe here, that when we left Hali[Pg 72]fax in the schooner, I was scarcely less feeble than when I left New York. I mention it to show how speedily "roughing it" on the salt water will bring one's stomach to its senses.
The "Balaklava" was a fore-and-aft schooner in ballast, and very little ballast at that; easily handled; painted black outside, and pink inside; as staunch a craft as ever shook sail; very obedient to the rudder; of some seventy or eighty tons burden; clean and neat everywhere, except in the cabin. As for her commander, he was a fine gentleman; true, honest, brave, modest, prudent99 and courteous100. Sincerely polite, for if politeness be only kindness mixed with refinement101, then Captain Capstan was polite, as we understand it. The mate of the schooner was a cannie Scot; by name, Robert, Fitzjames, Buchanan, Wallace, Burns, Bruce; and Bruce was as jolly a first-mate as ever sailed under the cross-bones of the British flag. The crew was composed of four Newfoundland sailor men; and the cook, whose h'eighth letter of the h'alphabet smacked102 somewhat strongly of H'albion. As for the rest, there was Mrs. Captain Capstan, Captain and Mrs. Captain Capstan's baby; Picton and myself. It is cruel to speak of a baby, except in terms of endearment103 and affection, and therefore I could not but condemn104 Picton, who[Pg 73] would sometimes, in his position as a traveller, allude105 to baby in language of most emphatic106 character. The fact is, Picton swore at that baby! Baby was in feeble health and would sometimes bewail its fate as if the cabin of the "Balaklava" were four times the size of baby's misfortunes. So Picton got to be very nervous and uncharitable, and slept on deck after the first night.
"How do you like this?" said Picton, as we leaned over the side of the "Balaklava," looking down at the millions of gelatinous quarls in the clear waters.
"Oh! very much; this lazy life will soon bring me up; how exhilarating the air is—how fresh and free!
"'A life on the ocean wave,
A home on the rolling deep.'"
Just then the schooner gave a lurch107 and shook her feathers alow and aloft by way of chorus. "I like this kind of life very much; how gracefully108 this vessel109 moves; what a beautiful union of strength, proportion, lightness, in the taper110 masts, the slender ropes and stays, the full spread and sweep of her sails! Then how expansive the view, the calm ocean in its solitude111, the receding112 land, the twinkling lighthouse, the"——
"Ever been sea-sick?" said Picton, drily.[Pg 74]
"Not often. By the way, my appetite is improving; I think Cookey is getting tea ready, by the smoke and the smell."
"Likely," replied Picton; "let us take a squint113 at the galley114."
To the galley we went, where we saw Cookey in great distress115; for the wind would blow in at the wrong end of his stove-pipe, so as to reverse the draft, and his stove was smoking at every seam. Poor Cookey's eyes were full of tears.
"Why don't you turn the elbow of the pipe the other way?" said Picton.
"Hi av tried that," said Cookey, "but the helbow is so 'eavy the 'ole thing comes h'off."
"Then, take off the elbow," said Picton.
So Cookey did, and very soon tea was ready. Imagine a cabin, not much larger than a good-sized omnibus, and far less steady in its motion, choked up with trunks, and a table about the size of a wash-stand; imagine two stools and a locker116 to sit on: a canvas table-cloth in full blotch117; three chipped yellow mugs by way of cups; as many plates, but of great variety of gap, crack, and pattern; pewter spoons; a blacking-bottle of milk; an earthen piggin of brown sugar, embroidered118 with a lively gang of great, fat, black pismires; hard bread, old as Nineveh; and butter of a most[Pg 75] forbidding aspect. Imagine this array set before an invalid, with an appetite of the most Miss Nancyish kind!
"One misses the comforts here at sea," said the captain's lady, a pretty young woman, with a sweet Milesian accent.
"Yes, ma'am," said I, glancing again at the banquet.
"I don't rightly know," she continued, "how I forgot the rocking-chair;" and she gave baby an affectionate squeeze.
"And that," said the captain, "is as bad as me forgetting the potatoes."
Pic and I sat down, but we could neither eat nor drink; we were very soon on deck again, sucking away dolefully at two precious cigars. At last he broke out:
"By gad119, to think of it!"
"What is the matter?" said I.
"Not a potato on board the 'Balaklava!'"
So we pulled away dolefully at our segars, in solemn silence.
"Picton," said I, "did you ever hear 'Annie Laurie?'"
"Yes," replied Picton, "about as many times as I want to hear it."
"Don't be impolite, Picton," said I; "it is not[Pg 76] my intention to sing it this evening. Indeed, I never heard it before I heard it in Halifax. I had the good fortune to make one of a very pleasant company, at the house of an old friend in the city, and I must say that song touched me, both the song and the singing of it. You know it was the song in the Crimea?"
"Yes," said Picton, smoking vigorously.
"I asked Major ——," said I, "if 'Annie Laurie' was sung by the soldiers in the Crimea; and he replied 'they did not sing anything else; they sang it,' said he, 'by thousands at a time.' How does it go, Picton? Come now!"
So Picton held forth under the moon, and sang "Annie Laurie" on the "Balaklava." And long after we turned in, the music kept singing on—
"Her voice is low and sweet,
And she's all the world to me;
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I'd lay me down and dee."
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1
romp
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| n.欢闹；v.嬉闹玩笑 | |
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fathom
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| v.领悟，彻底了解 | |
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schooner
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| n.纵帆船 | |
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pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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cosily
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| adv.舒适地，惬意地 | |
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6
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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7
corporate
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| adj.共同的，全体的；公司的，企业的 | |
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brace
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| n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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buxom
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| adj.（妇女）丰满的，有健康美的 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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robust
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| adj.强壮的，强健的，粗野的，需要体力的，浓的 | |
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bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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fathoms
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| 英寻( fathom的名词复数 ) | |
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affiliation
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| n.联系，联合 | |
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destitute
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| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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dwellings
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starry
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swampy
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solitary
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surmounted
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laurels
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boulders
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radii
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| n.半径；半径（距离）( radius的名词复数 )；用半径度量的圆形面积；半径范围；桡骨 | |
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petals
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profuse
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| adj.很多的，大量的，极其丰富的 | |
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pitcher
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perch
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rims
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delightful
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36
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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37
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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38
aroma
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| n.香气，芬芳，芳香 | |
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39
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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40
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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41
shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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42
evergreens
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| n.常青树，常绿植物，万年青( evergreen的名词复数 ) | |
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43
spicy
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| adj.加香料的；辛辣的，有风味的 | |
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44
resinous
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| adj.树脂的，树脂质的，树脂制的 | |
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45
spiry
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| adj.尖端的，尖塔状的，螺旋状的 | |
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46
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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47
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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48
enchanting
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| a.讨人喜欢的 | |
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49
latitude
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| n.纬度，行动或言论的自由(范围)，(pl.)地区 | |
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50
remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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51
animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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52
savory
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| adj.风味极佳的，可口的，味香的 | |
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53
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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54
exuberant
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| adj.充满活力的；（植物）繁茂的 | |
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55
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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56
poetical
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| adj.似诗人的；诗一般的；韵文的；富有诗意的 | |
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57
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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58
rheumatism
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| n.风湿病 | |
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59
hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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60
brag
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| v./n.吹牛，自夸；adj.第一流的 | |
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61
militia
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| n.民兵，民兵组织 | |
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62
invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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63
stumps
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| （被砍下的树的）树桩( stump的名词复数 )； 残肢； （板球三柱门的）柱； 残余部分 | |
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64
cogency
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| n.说服力；adj.有说服力的 | |
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65
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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66
quenched
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| 解（渴）( quench的过去式和过去分词 )； 终止（某事物）； （用水）扑灭（火焰等）； 将（热物体）放入水中急速冷却 | |
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67
stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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68
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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70
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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72
obstreperous
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| adj.喧闹的，不守秩序的 | |
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73
apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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74
trout
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| n.鳟鱼；鲑鱼(属) | |
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75
twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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76
jingled
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| 喝醉的 | |
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77
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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78
pervading
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的现在分词 ) | |
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79
abodes
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| 住所( abode的名词复数 )； 公寓； （在某地的）暂住； 逗留 | |
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intrusively
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| adv.干扰地，侵入地 | |
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81
enlisted
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| adj.应募入伍的v.（使）入伍， （使）参军( enlist的过去式和过去分词 )；获得（帮助或支持） | |
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82
lauding
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| v.称赞，赞美( laud的现在分词 ) | |
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83
benevolent
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| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
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84
mellifluous
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| adj.（音乐等）柔美流畅的 | |
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85
sarcasms
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，挖苦( sarcasm的名词复数 ) | |
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86
consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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87
maritime
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| adj.海的，海事的，航海的，近海的，沿海的 | |
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berths
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| n.（船、列车等的）卧铺( berth的名词复数 )；（船舶的）停泊位或锚位；差事；船台vt.v.停泊( berth的第三人称单数 )；占铺位 | |
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89
hamper
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| vt.妨碍，束缚，限制；n.(有盖的)大篮子 | |
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90
scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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91
glimmered
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| v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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92
tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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93
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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94
satchel
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| n.(皮或帆布的)书包 | |
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95
strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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96
adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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97
geographical
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| adj.地理的；地区(性)的 | |
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98
outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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99
prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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100
courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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101
refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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102
smacked
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| 拍，打，掴( smack的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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103
endearment
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| n.表示亲爱的行为 | |
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104
condemn
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| vt.谴责，指责；宣判(罪犯)，判刑 | |
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105
allude
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| v.提及，暗指 | |
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106
emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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107
lurch
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| n.突然向前或旁边倒；v.蹒跚而行 | |
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108
gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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109
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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110
taper
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| n.小蜡烛，尖细，渐弱；adj.尖细的；v.逐渐变小 | |
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111
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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112
receding
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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113
squint
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| v. 使变斜视眼, 斜视, 眯眼看, 偏移, 窥视; n. 斜视, 斜孔小窗; adj. 斜视的, 斜的 | |
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114
galley
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| n.（飞机或船上的）厨房单层甲板大帆船；军舰舰长用的大划艇； | |
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115
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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116
locker
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| n.更衣箱，储物柜，冷藏室，上锁的人 | |
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117
blotch
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| n.大斑点；红斑点；v.使沾上污渍，弄脏 | |
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118
embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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119
gad
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| n.闲逛；v.闲逛 | |
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