A GOOD-HUMOURED CHRISTMAS CHAPTER,CONTAINING AN ACCOUNT OF A WEDDING,AND SOME OTHER SPORTS BESIDE: WHICHALTHOUGH IN THEIR WAY, EVEN AS GOODCUSTOMS AS MARRIAGE ITSELF, ARE NOTQUITE SO RELIGIOUSLY KEPT UP,IN THESE DEGENERATE1 TIMESs brisk as bees, if not altogether as light as fairies, did thefour Pickwickians assemble on the morning of the twenty-second day of December, in the year of grace in whichthese, their faithfully-recorded adventures, were undertaken andaccomplished. Christmas was close at hand, in all his bluff2 andhearty honesty; it was the season of hospitality, merriment, andopen-heartedness; the old year was preparing, like an ancientphilosopher, to call his friends around him, and amidst the soundof feasting and revelry to pass gently and calmly away. Gay andmerry was the time; and right gay and merry were at least four ofthe numerous hearts that were gladdened by its coming.
And numerous indeed are the hearts to which Christmas bringsa brief season of happiness and enjoyment4. How many families,whose members have been dispersed5 and scattered6 far and wide,in the restless struggles of life, are then reunited, and meet onceagain in that happy state of companionship and mutual7 goodwill,which is a source of such pure and unalloyed delight; and one soincompatible with the cares and sorrows of the world, that thereligious belief of the most civilised nations, and the rudetraditions of the roughest savages8, alike number it among the firstjoys of a future condition of existence, provided for the blessedand happy! How many old recollections, and how many dormantsympathies, does Christmas time awaken10!
We write these words now, many miles distant from the spot atwhich, year after year, we met on that day, a merry and joyouscircle. Many of the hearts that throbbed12 so gaily13 then, have ceasedto beat; many of the looks that shone so brightly then, have ceasedto glow; the hands we grasped, have grown cold; the eyes wesought, have hid their lustre14 in the grave; and yet the old house,the room, the merry voices and smiling faces, the jest, the laugh,the most minute and trivial circumstances connected with thosehappy meetings, crowd upon our mind at each recurrence15 of theseason, as if the last assemblage had been but yesterday! Happy,happy Christmas, that can win us back to the delusions16 of ourchildish days; that can recall to the old man the pleasures of hisyouth; that can transport the sailor and the traveller, thousands ofmiles away, back to his own fireside and his quiet home!
But we are so taken up and occupied with the good qualities ofthis saint Christmas, that we are keeping Mr. Pickwick and hisfriends waiting in the cold on the outside of the Muggleton coach,which they have just attained17, well wrapped up in great-coats,shawls, and comforters. The portmanteaus and carpet-bags havebeen stowed away, and Mr. Weller and the guard areendeavouring to insinuate18 into the fore-boot a huge cod-fishseveral sizes too large for it―which is snugly19 packed up, in a longbrown basket, with a layer of straw over the top, and which hasbeen left to the last, in order that he may repose21 in safety on thehalf-dozen barrels of real native oysters22, all the property of Mr.
Pickwick, which have been arranged in regular order at thebottom of the receptacle. The interest displayed in Mr. Pickwick’scountenance is most intense, as Mr. Weller and the guard try tosqueeze the cod-fish into the boot, first head first, and then tailfirst, and then top upward, and then bottom upward, and thenside-ways, and then long-ways, all of which artifices24 theimplacable cod-fish sturdily resists, until the guard accidentallyhits him in the very middle of the basket, whereupon he suddenlydisappears into the boot, and with him, the head and shoulders ofthe guard himself, who, not calculating upon so sudden a cessationof the passive resistance of the cod-fish, experiences a veryunexpected shock, to the unsmotherable delight of all the portersand bystanders. Upon this, Mr. Pickwick smiles with great good-humour, and drawing a shilling from his waistcoat pocket, begsthe guard, as he picks himself out of the boot, to drink his health ina glass of hot brandy-and-water; at which the guard smiles too,and Messrs. Snodgrass, Winkle, and Tupman, all smile incompany. The guard and Mr. Weller disappear for five minutes,most probably to get the hot brandy-and-water, for they smell verystrongly of it, when they return, the coachman mounts to the box,Mr. Weller jumps up behind, the Pickwickians pull their coatsround their legs and their shawls over their noses, the helpers pullthe horse-cloths off, the coachman shouts out a cheery ‘All right,’
and away they go.
They have rumbled25 through the streets, and jolted26 over thestones, and at length reach the wide and open country. The wheelsskim over the hard and frosty ground; and the horses, burstinginto a canter at a smart crack of the whip, step along the road as ifthe load behind them―coach, passengers, cod-fish, oyster-barrels,and all―were but a feather at their heels. They have descended28 agentle slope, and enter upon a level, as compact and dry as a solidblock of marble, two miles long. Another crack of the whip, and onthey speed, at a smart gallop29, the horses tossing their heads andrattling the harness, as if in exhilaration at the rapidity of themotion; while the coachman, holding whip and reins30 in one hand,takes off his hat with the other, and resting it on his knees, pullsout his handkerchief, and wipes his forehead, partly because hehas a habit of doing it, and partly because it’s as well to show thepassengers how cool he is, and what an easy thing it is to drivefour-in-hand, when you have had as much practice as he has.
Having done this very leisurely32 (otherwise the effect would bematerially impaired), he replaces his handkerchief, pulls on hishat, adjusts his gloves, squares his elbows, cracks the whip again,and on they speed, more merrily than before. A few small houses,scattered on either side of the road, betoken33 the entrance to sometown or village. The lively notes of the guard’s key-bugle34 vibrate inthe clear cold air, and wake up the old gentleman inside, who,carefully letting down the window-sash half-way, and standingsentry over the air, takes a short peep out, and then carefullypulling it up again, informs the other inside that they’re going tochange directly; on which the other inside wakes himself up, anddetermines to postpone36 his next nap until after the stoppage.
Again the bugle sounds lustily forth37, and rouses the cottager’s wifeand children, who peep out at the house door, and watch thecoach till it turns the corner, when they once more crouch38 roundthe blazing fire, and throw on another log of wood against fathercomes home; while father himself, a full mile off, has justexchanged a friendly nod with the coachman, and turned round totake a good long stare at the vehicle as it whirls away.
And now the bugle plays a lively air as the coach rattles39 throughthe ill-paved streets of a country town; and the coachman, undoingthe buckle40 which keeps his ribands together, prepares to throwthem off the moment he stops. Mr. Pickwick emerges from his coatcollar, and looks about him with great curiosity; perceiving which,the coachman informs Mr. Pickwick of the name of the town, andtells him it was market-day yesterday, both of which pieces ofinformation Mr. Pickwick retails41 to his fellow-passengers;whereupon they emerge from their coat collars too, and look aboutthem also. Mr. Winkle, who sits at the extreme edge, with one legdangling in the air, is nearly precipitated42 into the street, as thecoach twists round the sharp corner by the cheesemonger’s shop,and turns into the market-place; and before Mr. Snodgrass, whosits next to him, has recovered from his alarm, they pull up at theinn yard where the fresh horses, with cloths on, are alreadywaiting. The coachman throws down the reins and gets downhimself, and the other outside passengers drop down also; exceptthose who have no great confidence in their ability to get up again;and they remain where they are, and stamp their feet against thecoach to warm them―looking, with longing44 eyes and red noses, atthe bright fire in the inn bar, and the sprigs of holly45 with redberries which ornament46 the window.
But the guard has delivered at the corn-dealer’s shop, thebrown paper packet he took out of the little pouch47 which hangsover his shoulder by a leathern strap48; and has seen the horsescarefully put to; and has thrown on the pavement the saddle whichwas brought from London on the coach roof; and has assisted inthe conference between the coachman and the hostler about thegray mare49 that hurt her off fore-leg last Tuesday; and he and Mr.
Weller are all right behind, and the coachman is all right in front,and the old gentleman inside, who has kept the window down fulltwo inches all this time, has pulled it up again, and the cloths areoff, and they are all ready for starting, except the ‘two stoutgentlemen,’ whom the coachman inquires after with someimpatience. Hereupon the coachman, and the guard, and SamWeller, and Mr. Winkle, and Mr. Snodgrass, and all the hostlers,and every one of the idlers, who are more in number than all theothers put together, shout for the missing gentlemen as loud asthey can bawl51. A distant response is heard from the yard, and Mr.
Pickwick and Mr. Tupman come running down it, quite out ofbreath, for they have been having a glass of ale a-piece, and Mr.
Pickwick’s fingers are so cold that he has been full five minutesbefore he could find the sixpence to pay for it. The coachmanshouts an admonitory ‘Now then, gen’l’m’n,’ the guard re-echoesit; the old gentleman inside thinks it a very extraordinary thingthat people will get down when they know there isn’t time for it;Mr. Pickwick struggles up on one side, Mr. Tupman on the other;Mr. Winkle cries ‘All right’; and off they start. Shawls are pulledup, coat collars are readjusted, the pavement ceases, the housesdisappear; and they are once again dashing along the open road,with the fresh clear air blowing in their faces, and gladdening theirvery hearts within them.
Such was the progress of Mr. Pickwick and his friends by theMuggleton Telegraph, on their way to Dingley Dell; and at threeo’clock that afternoon they all stood high and dry, safe and sound,hale and hearty3, upon the steps of the Blue Lion, having taken onthe road quite enough of ale and brandy, to enable them to biddefiance to the frost that was binding52 up the earth in its ironfetters, and weaving its beautiful network upon the trees andhedges. Mr. Pickwick was busily engaged in counting the barrelsof oysters and superintending the disinterment of the cod-fish,when he felt himself gently pulled by the skirts of the coat.
Looking round, he discovered that the individual who resorted tothis mode of catching53 his attention was no other than Mr. Wardle’sfavourite page, better known to the readers of this unvarnishedhistory, by the distinguishing appellation54 of the fat boy.
‘Aha!’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘Aha!’ said the fat boy.
As he said it, he glanced from the cod-fish to the oyster-barrels,and chuckled55 joyously56. He was fatter than ever.
‘Well, you look rosy57 enough, my young friend,’ said Mr.
Pickwick.
‘I’ve been asleep, right in front of the taproom fire,’ replied thefat boy, who had heated himself to the colour of a new chimney-pot, in the course of an hour’s nap. ‘Master sent me over with theshay-cart, to carry your luggage up to the house. He’d ha’ sentsome saddle-horses, but he thought you’d rather walk, being acold day.’
‘Yes, yes,’ said Mr. Pickwick hastily, for he remembered howthey had travelled over nearly the same ground on a previousoccasion. ‘Yes, we would rather walk. Here, Sam!’
‘Sir,’ said Mr. Weller.
‘Help Mr. Wardle’s servant to put the packages into the cart,and then ride on with him. We will walk forward at once.’
Having given this direction, and settled with the coachman, Mr.
Pickwick and his three friends struck into the footpath58 across thefields, and walked briskly away, leaving Mr. Weller and the fat boyconfronted together for the first time. Sam looked at the fat boywith great astonishment59, but without saying a word; and began tostow the luggage rapidly away in the cart, while the fat boy stoodquietly by, and seemed to think it a very interesting sort of thing tosee Mr. Weller working by himself.
‘There,’ said Sam, throwing in the last carpet-bag, ‘there theyare!’
‘Yes,’ said the fat boy, in a very satisfied tone, ‘there they are.’
‘Vell, young twenty stun,’ said Sam, ‘you’re a nice specimen60 of aprize boy, you are!’
‘Thank’ee,’ said the fat boy.
‘You ain’t got nothin’ on your mind as makes you fret61 yourself,have you?’ inquired Sam.
‘Not as I knows on,’ replied the fat boy.
‘I should rayther ha’ thought, to look at you, that you was a-labourin’ under an unrequited attachment62 to some young ’ooman,’
said Sam.
The fat boy shook his head.
‘Vell,’ said Sam, ‘I am glad to hear it. Do you ever drinkanythin’?’
‘I likes eating better,’ replied the boy.
‘Ah,’ said Sam, ‘I should ha’ s’posed that; but what I mean is,should you like a drop of anythin’ as’d warm you? but I s’pose younever was cold, with all them elastic63 fixtures64, was you?’
‘Sometimes,’ replied the boy; ‘and I likes a drop of something,when it’s good.’
‘Oh, you do, do you?’ said Sam, ‘come this way, then!’
The Blue Lion tap was soon gained, and the fat boy swallowed aglass of liquor without so much as winking―a feat27 whichconsiderably advanced him in Mr. Weller’s good opinion. Mr.
Weller having transacted65 a similar piece of business on his ownaccount, they got into the cart.
‘Can you drive?’ said the fat boy. ‘I should rayther think so,’
replied Sam.
‘There, then,’ said the fat boy, putting the reins in his hand, andpointing up a lane, ‘it’s as straight as you can go; you can’t miss it.’
With these words, the fat boy laid himself affectionately downby the side of the cod-fish, and, placing an oyster-barrel under hishead for a pillow, fell asleep instantaneously.
‘Well,’ said Sam, ‘of all the cool boys ever I set my eyes on, thishere young gen’l’m’n is the coolest. Come, wake up, youngdropsy!’
But as young dropsy evinced no symptoms of returninganimation, Sam Weller sat himself down in front of the cart, andstarting the old horse with a jerk of the rein31, jogged steadily66 on,towards the Manor67 Farm.
Meanwhile, Mr. Pickwick and his friends having walked theirblood into active circulation, proceeded cheerfully on. The pathswere hard; the grass was crisp and frosty; the air had a fine, dry,bracing coldness; and the rapid approach of the gray twilight(slate-coloured is a better term in frosty weather) made them lookforward with pleasant anticipation68 to the comforts which awaitedthem at their hospitable69 entertainer’s. It was the sort of afternoonthat might induce a couple of elderly gentlemen, in a lonely field,to take off their greatcoats and play at leap-frog in pure lightnessof heart and gaiety; and we firmly believe that had Mr. Tupman atthat moment proffered70 ‘a back,’ Mr. Pickwick would have acceptedhis offer with the utmost avidity.
However, Mr. Tupman did not volunteer any suchaccommodation, and the friends walked on, conversing71 merrily. Asthey turned into a lane they had to cross, the sound of many voicesburst upon their ears; and before they had even had time to form aguess to whom they belonged, they walked into the very centre ofthe party who were expecting their arrival―a fact which was firstnotified to the Pickwickians, by the loud ‘Hurrah,’ which burstfrom old Wardle’s lips, when they appeared in sight.
First, there was Wardle himself, looking, if that were possible,more jolly than ever; then there were Bella and her faithfulTrundle; and, lastly, there were Emily and some eight or tenyoung ladies, who had all come down to the wedding, which was totake place next day, and who were in as happy and important astate as young ladies usually are, on such momentous72 occasions;and they were, one and all, startling the fields and lanes, far andwide, with their frolic and laughter.
The ceremony of introduction, under such circumstances, wasvery soon performed, or we should rather say that theintroduction was soon over, without any ceremony at all. In twominutes thereafter, Mr. Pickwick was joking with the young ladieswho wouldn’t come over the stile while he looked―or who, havingpretty feet and unexceptionable ankles, preferred standing35 on thetop rail for five minutes or so, declaring that they were toofrightened to move―with as much ease and absence of reserve orconstraint, as if he had known them for life. It is worthy73 of remark,too, that Mr. Snodgrass offered Emily far more assistance than theabsolute terrors of the stile (although it was full three feet high,and had only a couple of stepping-stones) would seem to require;while one black-eyed young lady in a very nice little pair of bootswith fur round the top, was observed to scream very loudly, whenMr. Winkle offered to help her over.
All this was very snug20 and pleasant. And when the difficulties ofthe stile were at last surmounted74, and they once more entered onthe open field, old Wardle informed Mr. Pickwick how they had allbeen down in a body to inspect the furniture and fittings-up of thehouse, which the young couple were to tenant75, after the Christmasholidays; at which communication Bella and Trundle bothcoloured up, as red as the fat boy after the taproom fire; and theyoung lady with the black eyes and the fur round the boots,whispered something in Emily’s ear, and then glanced archly atMr. Snodgrass; to which Emily responded that she was a foolishgirl, but turned very red, notwithstanding; and Mr. Snodgrass,who was as modest as all great geniuses usually are, felt thecrimson rising to the crown of his head, and devoutly76 wished, inthe inmost recesses77 of his own heart, that the young ladyaforesaid, with her black eyes, and her archness, and her bootswith the fur round the top, were all comfortably deposited in theadjacent county.
But if they were social and happy outside the house, what wasthe warmth and cordiality of their reception when they reachedthe farm! The very servants grinned with pleasure at sight of Mr.
Pickwick; and Emma bestowed78 a half-demure, half-impudent, andall-pretty look of recognition, on Mr. Tupman, which was enoughto make the statue of Bonaparte in the passage, unfold his arms,and clasp her within them.
The old lady was seated with customary state in the frontparlour, but she was rather cross, and, by consequence, mostparticularly deaf. She never went out herself, and like a greatmany other old ladies of the same stamp, she was apt to consider itan act of domestic treason, if anybody else took the liberty of doingwhat she couldn’t. So, bless her old soul, she sat as upright as shecould, in her great chair, and looked as fierce as might be―andthat was benevolent79 after all.
‘Mother,’ said Wardle, ‘Mr. Pickwick. You recollect9 him?’
‘Never mind,’ replied the old lady, with great dignity. ‘Don’ttrouble Mr. Pickwick about an old creetur like me. Nobody caresabout me now, and it’s very nat’ral they shouldn’t.’ Here the oldlady tossed her head, and smoothed down her lavender-colouredsilk dress with trembling hands. ‘Come, come, ma’am,’ said Mr.
Pickwick, ‘I can’t let you cut an old friend in this way. I have comedown expressly to have a long talk, and another rubber with you;and we’ll show these boys and girls how to dance a minuet, beforethey’re eight-and-forty hours older.’
The old lady was rapidly giving way, but she did not like to do itall at once; so she only said, ‘Ah! I can’t hear him!’
‘Nonsense, mother,’ said Wardle. ‘Come, come, don’t be cross,there’s a good soul. Recollect Bella; come, you must keep herspirits up, poor girl.’
The good old lady heard this, for her lip quivered as her sonsaid it. But age has its little infirmities of temper, and she was notquite brought round yet. So, she smoothed down the lavender-coloured dress again, and turning to Mr. Pickwick said, ‘Ah, Mr.
Pickwick, young people was very different, when I was a girl.’
‘No doubt of that, ma’am,’ said Mr. Pickwick, ‘and that’s thereason why I would make much of the few that have any traces ofthe old stock’―and saying this, Mr. Pickwick gently pulled Bellatowards him, and bestowing80 a kiss upon her forehead, bade her sitdown on the little stool at her grandmother’s feet. Whether theexpression of her countenance23, as it was raised towards the oldlady’s face, called up a thought of old times, or whether the oldlady was touched by Mr. Pickwick’s affectionate good-nature, orwhatever was the cause, she was fairly melted; so she threwherself on her granddaughter’s neck, and all the little ill-humourevaporated in a gush81 of silent tears.
A happy party they were, that night. Sedate82 and solemn werethe score of rubbers in which Mr. Pickwick and the old lady playedtogether; uproarious was the mirth of the round table. Long afterthe ladies had retired83, did the hot elder wine, well qualified84 withbrandy and spice, go round, and round, and round again; andsound was the sleep and pleasant were the dreams that followed.
It is a remarkable85 fact that those of Mr. Snodgrass bore constantreference to Emily Wardle; and that the principal figure in Mr.
Winkle’s visions was a young lady with black eyes, and arch smile,and a pair of remarkably86 nice boots with fur round the tops.
Mr. Pickwick was awakened87 early in the morning, by a hum ofvoices and a pattering of feet, sufficient to rouse even the fat boyfrom his heavy slumbers88. He sat up in bed and listened. Thefemale servants and female visitors were running constantly toand fro; and there were such multitudinous demands for hotwater, such repeated outcries for needles and thread, and so manyhalf-suppressed entreaties89 of ‘Oh, do come and tie me, there’s adear!’ that Mr. Pickwick in his innocence90 began to imagine thatsomething dreadful must have occurred―when he grew moreawake, and remembered the wedding. The occasion being animportant one, he dressed himself with peculiar91 care, anddescended to the breakfast-room.
There were all the female servants in a brand new uniform ofpink muslin gowns with white bows in their caps, running aboutthe house in a state of excitement and agitation92 which it would beimpossible to describe. The old lady was dressed out in a brocadedgown, which had not seen the light for twenty years, saving andexcepting such truant93 rays as had stolen through the chinks in thebox in which it had been laid by, during the whole time. Mr.
Trundle was in high feather and spirits, but a little nervous withal.
The hearty old landlord was trying to look very cheerful andunconcerned, but failing signally in the attempt. All the girls werein tears and white muslin, except a select two or three, who werebeing honoured with a private view of the bride and bridesmaids,upstairs. All the Pickwickians were in most blooming array; andthere was a terrific roaring on the grass in front of the house,occasioned by all the men, boys, and hobbledehoys attached to thefarm, each of whom had got a white bow in his button-hole, and allof whom were cheering with might and main; being incitedthereto, and stimulated94 therein by the precept95 and example of Mr.
Samuel Weller, who had managed to become mighty96 popularalready, and was as much at home as if he had been born on theland.
A wedding is a licensed97 subject to joke upon, but there really isno great joke in the matter after all;―we speak merely of theceremony, and beg it to be distinctly understood that we indulgein no hidden sarcasm98 upon a married life. Mixed up with thepleasure and joy of the occasion, are the many regrets at quittinghome, the tears of parting between parent and child, theconsciousness of leaving the dearest and kindest friends of thehappiest portion of human life, to encounter its cares and troubleswith others still untried and little known―natural feelings whichwe would not render this chapter mournful by describing, andwhich we should be still more unwilling99 to be supposed to ridicule100.
Let us briefly101 say, then, that the ceremony was performed bythe old clergyman, in the parish church of Dingley Dell, and thatMr. Pickwick’s name is attached to the register, still preserved inthe vestry thereof; that the young lady with the black eyes signedher name in a very unsteady and tremulous manner; that Emily’ssignature, as the other bridesmaid, is nearly illegible102; that it allwent off in very admirable style; that the young ladies generallythought it far less shocking than they had expected; and thatalthough the owner of the black eyes and the arch smile informedMr. Wardle that she was sure she could never submit to anythingso dreadful, we have the very best reasons for thinking she wasmistaken. To all this, we may add, that Mr. Pickwick was the firstwho saluted103 the bride, and that in so doing he threw over her necka rich gold watch and chain, which no mortal eyes but thejeweller’s had ever beheld105 before. Then, the old church bell rangas gaily as it could, and they all returned to breakfast. ‘Vere doesthe mince-pies go, young opium-eater?’ said Mr. Weller to the fatboy, as he assisted in laying out such articles of consumption ashad not been duly arranged on the previous night.
The fat boy pointed106 to the destination of the pies.
‘Wery good,’ said Sam, ‘stick a bit o’ Christmas in ’em. T’otherdish opposite. There; now we look compact and comfortable, asthe father said ven he cut his little boy’s head off, to cure him o’
squintin’.’
As Mr. Weller made the comparison, he fell back a step or two,to give full effect to it, and surveyed the preparations with theutmost satisfaction.
‘Wardle,’ said Mr. Pickwick, almost as soon as they were allseated, ‘a glass of wine in honour of this happy occasion!’
‘I shall be delighted, my boy,’ said Wardle. ‘Joe―damn that boy,he’s gone to sleep.’
‘No, I ain’t, sir,’ replied the fat boy, starting up from a remotecorner, where, like the patron saint of fat boys―the immortalHorner―he had been devouring107 a Christmas pie, though not withthe coolness and deliberation which characterised that younggentleman’s proceedings108.
‘Fill Mr. Pickwick’s glass.’
‘Yes, sir.’
The fat boy filled Mr. Pickwick’s glass, and then retired behindhis master’s chair, from whence he watched the play of the knivesand forks, and the progress of the choice morsels109 from the dishesto the mouths of the company, with a kind of dark and gloomy joythat was most impressive.
‘God bless you, old fellow!’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘Same to you, my boy,’ replied Wardle; and they pledged eachother, heartily110.
‘Mrs. Wardle,’ said Mr. Pickwick, ‘we old folks must have a glassof wine together, in honour of this joyful111 event.’
The old lady was in a state of great grandeur112 just then, for shewas sitting at the top of the table in the brocaded gown, with hernewly-married granddaughter on one side, and Mr. Pickwick onthe other, to do the carving113. Mr. Pickwick had not spoken in a veryloud tone, but she understood him at once, and drank off a fullglass of wine to his long life and happiness; after which the worthyold soul launched forth into a minute and particular account of herown wedding, with a dissertation114 on the fashion of wearing high-heeled shoes, and some particulars concerning the life andadventures of the beautiful Lady Tollimglower, deceased; at all ofwhich the old lady herself laughed very heartily indeed, and so didthe young ladies too, for they were wondering among themselveswhat on earth grandma was talking about. When they laughed, theold lady laughed ten times more heartily, and said that thesealways had been considered capital stories, which caused them allto laugh again, and put the old lady into the very best of humours.
Then the cake was cut, and passed through the ring; the youngladies saved pieces to put under their pillows to dream of theirfuture husbands on; and a great deal of blushing and merrimentwas thereby115 occasioned.
‘Mr. Miller,’ said Mr. Pickwick to his old acquaintance, thehard-headed gentleman, ‘a glass of wine?’
‘With great satisfaction, Mr. Pickwick,’ replied the hard-headedgentleman solemnly.
‘You’ll take me in?’ said the benevolent old clergyman.
‘And me,’ interposed his wife.
‘And me, and me,’ said a couple of poor relations at the bottomof the table, who had eaten and drunk very heartily, and laughedat everything.
Mr. Pickwick expressed his heartfelt delight at every additionalsuggestion; and his eyes beamed with hilarity116 and cheerfulness.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ said Mr. Pickwick, suddenly rising.
‘Hear, hear! Hear, hear! Hear, hear!’ cried Mr. Weller, in theexcitement of his feelings.
‘Call in all the servants,’ cried old Wardle, interposing toprevent the public rebuke117 which Mr. Weller would otherwise mostindubitably have received from his master. ‘Give them a glass ofwine each to drink the toast in. Now, Pickwick.’
Amidst the silence of the company, the whispering of thewomen-servants, and the awkward embarrassment118 of the men,Mr. Pickwick proceeded―‘Ladies and gentlemen―no, I won’t say ladies and gentlemen,I’ll call you my friends, my dear friends, if the ladies will allow meto take so great a liberty―’
Here Mr. Pickwick was interrupted by immense applause fromthe ladies, echoed by the gentlemen, during which the owner ofthe eyes was distinctly heard to state that she could kiss that dearMr. Pickwick. Whereupon Mr. Winkle gallantly119 inquired if itcouldn’t be done by deputy: to which the young lady with theblack eyes replied ‘Go away,’ and accompanied the request with alook which said as plainly as a look could do, ‘if you can.’
‘My dear friends,’ resumed Mr. Pickwick, ‘I am going topropose the health of the bride and bridegroom―God bless ’em(cheers and tears). My young friend, Trundle, I believe to be a veryexcellent and manly120 fellow; and his wife I know to be a veryamiable and lovely girl, well qualified to transfer to another sphereof action the happiness which for twenty years she has diffusedaround her, in her father’s house. (Here, the fat boy burst forthinto stentorian121 blubberings, and was led forth by the coat collar,by Mr. Weller.) I wish,’ added Mr. Pickwick―‘I wish I was youngenough to be her sister’s husband (cheers), but, failing that, I amhappy to be old enough to be her father; for, being so, I shall notbe suspected of any latent designs when I say, that I admire,esteem, and love them both (cheers and sobs). The bride’s father,our good friend there, is a noble person, and I am proud to knowhim (great uproar). He is a kind, excellent, independent-spirited,fine-hearted, hospitable, liberal man (enthusiastic shouts from thepoor relations, at all the adjectives; and especially at the two last).
That his daughter may enjoy all the happiness, even he can desire;and that he may derive122 from the contemplation of her felicity allthe gratification of heart and peace of mind which he so welldeserves, is, I am persuaded, our united wish. So, let us drink theirhealths, and wish them prolonged life, and every blessing123!’
Mr. Pickwick concluded amidst a whirlwind of applause; andonce more were the lungs of the supernumeraries, under Mr.
Weller’s command, brought into active and efficient operation. Mr.
Wardle proposed Mr. Pickwick; Mr. Pickwick proposed the oldlady. Mr. Snodgrass proposed Mr. Wardle; Mr. Wardle proposedMr. Snodgrass. One of the poor relations proposed Mr. Tupman,and the other poor relation proposed Mr. Winkle; all washappiness and festivity, until the mysterious disappearance124 ofboth the poor relations beneath the table, warned the party that itwas time to adjourn125.
At dinner they met again, after a five-and-twenty mile walk,undertaken by the males at Wardle’s recommendation, to get ridof the effects of the wine at breakfast. The poor relations had keptin bed all day, with the view of attaining126 the same happyconsummation, but, as they had been unsuccessful, they stoppedthere. Mr. Weller kept the domestics in a state of perpetualhilarity; and the fat boy divided his time into small alternateallotments of eating and sleeping.
The dinner was as hearty an affair as the breakfast, and wasquite as noisy, without the tears. Then came the dessert and somemore toasts. Then came the tea and coffee; and then, the ball.
The best sitting-room127 at Manor Farm was a good, long, dark-panelled room with a high chimney-piece, and a capaciouschimney, up which you could have driven one of the new patentcabs, wheels and all. At the upper end of the room, seated in ashady bower128 of holly and evergreens129 were the two best fiddlers,and the only harp43, in all Muggleton. In all sorts of recesses, and onall kinds of brackets, stood massive old silver candlesticks withfour branches each. The carpet was up, the candles burned bright,the fire blazed and crackled on the hearth130, and merry voices andlight-hearted laughter rang through the room. If any of the oldEnglish yeomen had turned into fairies when they died, it was justthe place in which they would have held their revels131.
If anything could have added to the interest of this agreeablescene, it would have been the remarkable fact of Mr. Pickwick’sappearing without his gaiters, for the first time within the memoryof his oldest friends.
‘You mean to dance?’ said Wardle.
‘Of course I do,’ replied Mr. Pickwick. ‘Don’t you see I amdressed for the purpose?’ Mr. Pickwick called attention to hisspeckled silk stockings, and smartly tied pumps.
‘You in silk stockings!’ exclaimed Mr. Tupman jocosely132.
‘And why not, sir―why not?’ said Mr. Pickwick, turningwarmly upon him. ‘Oh, of course there is no reason why youshouldn’t wear them,’ responded Mr. Tupman.
‘I imagine not, sir―I imagine not,’ said Mr. Pickwick, in a veryperemptory tone.
Mr. Tupman had contemplated133 a laugh, but he found it was aserious matter; so he looked grave, and said they were a prettypattern.
‘I hope they are,’ said Mr. Pickwick, fixing his eyes upon hisfriend. ‘You see nothing extraordinary in the stockings, asstockings, I trust, sir?’
‘Certainly not. Oh, certainly not,’ replied Mr. Tupman. Hewalked away; and Mr. Pickwick’s countenance resumed itscustomary benign134 expression.
‘We are all ready, I believe,’ said Mr. Pickwick, who wasstationed with the old lady at the top of the dance, and had alreadymade four false starts, in his excessive anxiety to commence.
‘Then begin at once,’ said Wardle. ‘Now!’
Up struck the two fiddles135 and the one harp, and off went Mr.
Pickwick into hands across, when there was a general clapping ofhands, and a cry of ‘Stop, stop!’
‘What’s the matter?’ said Mr. Pickwick, who was only broughtto, by the fiddles and harp desisting, and could have been stoppedby no other earthly power, if the house had been on fire. ‘Where’sArabella Allen?’ cried a dozen voices.
‘And Winkle?’added Mr. Tupman.
‘Here we are!’ exclaimed that gentleman, emerging with hispretty companion from the corner; as he did so, it would havebeen hard to tell which was the redder in the face, he or the younglady with the black eyes.
‘What an extraordinary thing it is, Winkle,’ said Mr. Pickwick,rather pettishly136, ‘that you couldn’t have taken your place before.’
‘Not at all extraordinary,’ said Mr. Winkle.
‘Well,’ said Mr. Pickwick, with a very expressive137 smile, as hiseyes rested on Arabella, ‘well, I don’t know that it wasextraordinary, either, after all.’
However, there was no time to think more about the matter, forthe fiddles and harp began in real earnest. Away went Mr.
Pickwick―hands across―down the middle to the very end of theroom, and half-way up the chimney, back again to the door―poussette everywhere―loud stamp on the ground―ready for thenext couple―off again―all the figure over once more―anotherstamp to beat out the time―next couple, and the next, and thenext again―never was such going; at last, after they had reachedthe bottom of the dance, and full fourteen couple after the old ladyhad retired in an exhausted138 state, and the clergyman’s wife hadbeen substituted in her stead, did that gentleman, when there wasno demand whatever on his exertions139, keep perpetually dancing inhis place, to keep time to the music, smiling on his partner all thewhile with a blandness140 of demeanour which baffles all description.
Long before Mr. Pickwick was weary of dancing, the newly-married couple had retired from the scene. There was a glorioussupper downstairs, notwithstanding, and a good long sitting afterit; and when Mr. Pickwick awoke, late the next morning, he had aconfused recollection of having, severally and confidentially,invited somewhere about five-and-forty people to dine with him atthe George and Vulture, the very first time they came to London;which Mr. Pickwick rightly considered a pretty certain indicationof his having taken something besides exercise, on the previousnight.
‘And so your family has games in the kitchen to-night, my dear,has they?’ inquired Sam of Emma.
‘Yes, Mr. Weller,’ replied Emma; ‘we always have on ChristmasEve. Master wouldn’t neglect to keep it up on any account.’
‘Your master’s a wery pretty notion of keeping anythin’ up, mydear,’ said Mr. Weller; ‘I never see such a sensible sort of man ashe is, or such a reg’lar gen’l’m’n.’
‘Oh, that he is!’ said the fat boy, joining in the conversation;‘don’t he breed nice pork!’ The fat youth gave a semi-cannibalicleer at Mr. Weller, as he thought of the roast legs and gravy141.
‘Oh, you’ve woke up, at last, have you?’ said Sam.
The fat boy nodded.
‘I’ll tell you what it is, young boa-constructer,’ said Mr. Wellerimpressively; ‘if you don’t sleep a little less, and exercise a littlemore, wen you comes to be a man you’ll lay yourself open to thesame sort of personal inconwenience as was inflicted142 on the oldgen’l’m’n as wore the pigtail.’
‘What did they do to him?’ inquired the fat boy, in a falteringvoice.
‘I’m a-going to tell you,’ replied Mr. Weller; ‘he was one o’ thelargest patterns as was ever turned out―reg’lar fat man, as hadn’tcaught a glimpse of his own shoes for five-and-forty year.’
‘Lor!’ exclaimed Emma.
‘No, that he hadn’t, my dear,’ said Mr. Weller; ‘and if you’d putan exact model of his own legs on the dinin’-table afore him, hewouldn’t ha’ known ’em. Well, he always walks to his office with awery handsome gold watch-chain hanging out, about a foot and aquarter, and a gold watch in his fob pocket as was worth―I’mafraid to say how much, but as much as a watch can be―a large,heavy, round manufacter, as stout50 for a watch, as he was for aman, and with a big face in proportion. “You’d better not carrythat ’ere watch,” says the old gen’l’m’n’s friends, “you’ll be robbedon it,” says they. “Shall I?” says he. “Yes, you will,” says they.
“Well,” says he, “I should like to see the thief as could get this herewatch out, for I’m blessed if I ever can, it’s such a tight fit,” sayshe, “and wenever I vants to know what’s o’clock, I’m obliged tostare into the bakers’ shops,” he says. Well, then he laughs ashearty as if he was a-goin’ to pieces, and out he walks agin with hispowdered head and pigtail, and rolls down the Strand143 with thechain hangin’ out furder than ever, and the great round watchalmost bustin’ through his gray kersey smalls. There warn’t apickpocket in all London as didn’t take a pull at that chain, but thechain ’ud never break, and the watch ’ud never come out, so theysoon got tired of dragging such a heavy old gen’l’m’n along thepavement, and he’d go home and laugh till the pigtail wibratedlike the penderlum of a Dutch clock. At last, one day the oldgen’l’m’n was a-rollin’ along, and he sees a pickpocket144 as heknow’d by sight, a-coming up, arm in arm with a little boy with awery large head. “Here’s a game,” says the old gen’l’m’n tohimself, “they’re a-goin’ to have another try, but it won’t do!” Sohe begins a-chucklin’ wery hearty, wen, all of a sudden, the littleboy leaves hold of the pickpocket’s arm, and rushes head foremoststraight into the old gen’l’m’n’s stomach, and for a momentdoubles him right up with the pain. “Murder!” says the oldgen’l’m’n. “All right, sir,” says the pickpocket, a-wisperin’ in hisear. And wen he come straight agin, the watch and chain wasgone, and what’s worse than that, the old gen’l’m’n’s digestion145 wasall wrong ever afterwards, to the wery last day of his life; so justyou look about you, young feller, and take care you don’t get toofat.’
As Mr. Weller concluded this moral tale, with which the fat boyThe Pickwick Papersappeared much affected146, they all three repaired to the largekitchen, in which the family were by this time assembled,according to annual custom on Christmas Eve, observed by oldWardle’s forefathers147 from time immemorial.
From the centre of the ceiling of this kitchen, old Wardle hadjust suspended, with his own hands, a huge branch of mistletoe,and this same branch of mistletoe instantaneously gave rise to ascene of general and most delightful148 struggling and confusion; inthe midst of which, Mr. Pickwick, with a gallantry that would havedone honour to a descendant of Lady Tollimglower herself, tookthe old lady by the hand, led her beneath the mystic branch, andsaluted her in all courtesy and decorum. The old lady submitted tothis piece of practical politeness with all the dignity which befittedso important and serious a solemnity, but the younger ladies, notbeing so thoroughly149 imbued150 with a superstitious151 veneration152 forthe custom, or imagining that the value of a salute104 is very muchenhanced if it cost a little trouble to obtain it, screamed andstruggled, and ran into corners, and threatened and remonstrated,and did everything but leave the room, until some of the lessadventurous gentlemen were on the point of desisting, when theyall at once found it useless to resist any longer, and submitted tobe kissed with a good grace. Mr. Winkle kissed the young ladywith the black eyes, and Mr. Snodgrass kissed Emily; and Mr.
Weller, not being particular about the form of being under themistletoe, kissed Emma and the other female servants, just as hecaught them. As to the poor relations, they kissed everybody, noteven excepting the plainer portions of the young lady visitors,who, in their excessive confusion, ran right under the mistletoe, assoon as it was hung up, without knowing it! Wardle stood with hisback to the fire, surveying the whole scene, with the utmostsatisfaction; and the fat boy took the opportunity of appropriatingto his own use, and summarily devouring, a particularly finemince-pie, that had been carefully put by, for somebody else.
Now, the screaming had subsided153, and faces were in a glow,and curls in a tangle154, and Mr. Pickwick, after kissing the old ladyas before mentioned, was standing under the mistletoe, lookingwith a very pleased countenance on all that was passing aroundhim, when the young lady with the black eyes, after a littlewhispering with the other young ladies, made a sudden dartforward, and, putting her arm round Mr. Pickwick’s neck, salutedhim affectionately on the left cheek; and before Mr. Pickwickdistinctly knew what was the matter, he was surrounded by thewhole body, and kissed by every one of them.
It was a pleasant thing to see Mr. Pickwick in the centre of thegroup, now pulled this way, and then that, and first kissed on thechin, and then on the nose, and then on the spectacles, and to hearthe peals155 of laughter which were raised on every side; but it was astill more pleasant thing to see Mr. Pickwick, blinded shortlyafterwards with a silk handkerchief, falling up against the wall,and scrambling156 into corners, and going through all the mysteriesof blind-man’s buff, with the utmost relish157 for the game, until atlast he caught one of the poor relations, and then had to evade158 theblind-man himself, which he did with a nimbleness and agility159 thatelicited the admiration160 and applause of all beholders. The poorrelations caught the people who they thought would like it, and,when the game flagged, got caught themselves. When they all tiredof blind-man’s buff, there was a great game at snap-dragon, andwhen fingers enough were burned with that, and all the raisinswere gone, they sat down by the huge fire of blazing logs to asubstantial supper, and a mighty bowl of wassail, somethingsmaller than an ordinary wash-house copper161, in which the hotapples were hissing162 and bubbling with a rich look, and a jollysound, that were perfectly163 irresistible164.
‘This,’ said Mr. Pickwick, looking round him, ‘this is, indeed,comfort.’
‘Our invariable custom,’ replied Mr. Wardle. ‘Everybody sitsdown with us on Christmas Eve, as you see them now―servantsand all; and here we wait, until the clock strikes twelve, to usherChristmas in, and beguile166 the time with forfeits167 and old stories.
Trundle, my boy, rake up the fire.’
Up flew the bright sparks in myriads168 as the logs were stirred.
The deep red blaze sent forth a rich glow, that penetrated169 into thefarthest corner of the room, and cast its cheerful tint170 on every face.
‘Come,’ said Wardle, ‘a song―a Christmas song! I’ll give youone, in default of a better.’
‘Bravo!’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘Fill up,’ cried Wardle. ‘It will be two hours, good, before yousee the bottom of the bowl through the deep rich colour of thewassail; fill up all round, and now for the song.’
Thus saying, the merry old gentleman, in a good, round, sturdyvoice, commenced without more ado―A CHRISTMAS CAROL‘I care not for Spring; on his fickle171 wingLet the blossoms and buds be borne;He woos them amain with his treacherous172 rain,And he scatters173 them ere the morn.
An inconstant elf, he knows not himself,Nor his own changing mind an hour,He’ll smile in your face, and, with wry174 grimace,He’ll wither175 your youngest flower.
‘Let the Summer sun to his bright home run,He shall never be sought by me;When he’s dimmed by a cloud I can laugh aloudAnd care not how sulky he be!
For his darling child is the madness wildThat sports in fierce fever’s train;And when love is too strong, it don’t last long,As many have found to their pain.
‘A mild harvest night, by the tranquil176 lightOf the modest and gentle moon,Has a far sweeter sheen for me, I ween,Than the broad and unblushing noon.
But every leaf awakens177 my grief,As it lieth beneath the tree;So let Autumn air be never so fair,It by no means agrees with me.
‘But my song I troll out, for Christmas Stout,The hearty, the true, and the bold;A bumper178 I drain, and with might and mainGive three cheers for this Christmas old!
We’ll usher165 him in with a merry dinThat shall gladden his joyous11 heart,And we’ll keep him up, while there’s bite or sup,And in fellowship good, we’ll part.
‘In his fine honest pride, he scorns to hideOne jot179 of his hard-weather scars;They’re no disgrace, for there’s much the same traceOn the cheeks of our bravest tars180.
Then again I sing till the roof doth ringAnd it echoes from wall to wall―To the stout old wight, fair welcome to-night,As the King of the Seasons all!’
This song was tumultuously applauded―for friends anddependents make a capital audience―and the poor relations,especially, were in perfect ecstasies181 of rapture182. Again was the firereplenished, and again went the wassail round.
‘How it snows!’ said one of the men, in a low tone.
‘Snows, does it?’ said Wardle.
‘Rough, cold night, sir,’ replied the man; ‘and there’s a wind gotup, that drifts it across the fields, in a thick white cloud.’
‘What does Jem say?’ inquired the old lady. ‘There ain’tanything the matter, is there?’
‘No, no, mother,’ replied Wardle; ‘he says there’s a snowdrift,and a wind that’s piercing cold. I should know that, by the way itrumbles in the chimney.’
‘Ah!’ said the old lady, ‘there was just such a wind, and justsuch a fall of snow, a good many years back, I recollect―just fiveyears before your poor father died. It was a Christmas Eve, too;and I remember that on that very night he told us the story aboutthe goblins that carried away old Gabriel Grub.’
‘The story about what?’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘Oh, nothing, nothing,’ replied Wardle. ‘About an old sexton,that the good people down here suppose to have been carriedaway by goblins.’
‘Suppose!’ ejaculated the old lady. ‘Is there anybody hardyenough to disbelieve it? Suppose! Haven’t you heard ever sinceyou were a child, that he was carried away by the goblins, anddon’t you know he was?’
‘Very well, mother, he was, if you like,’ said Wardle laughing.
‘He was carried away by goblins, Pickwick; and there’s an end ofthe matter.’
‘No, no,’ said Mr. Pickwick, ‘not an end of it, I assure you; for Imust hear how, and why, and all about it.’
Wardle smiled, as every head was bent183 forward to hear, andfilling out the wassail with no stinted184 hand, nodded a health to Mr.
Pickwick, and began as follows―But bless our editorial heart, what a long chapter we have beenbetrayed into! We had quite forgotten all such petty restrictions185 aschapters, we solemnly declare. So here goes, to give the goblin afair start in a new one. A clear stage and no favour for the goblins,ladies and gentlemen, if you please.
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degenerate
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| v.退步，堕落；adj.退步的，堕落的；n.堕落者 | |
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bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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lustre
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| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
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recurrence
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| n.复发，反复，重现 | |
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delusions
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| n.欺骗( delusion的名词复数 )；谬见；错觉；妄想 | |
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attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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insinuate
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| vt.含沙射影地说，暗示 | |
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snugly
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| adv.紧贴地；贴身地；暖和舒适地；安适地 | |
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snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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oysters
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| 牡蛎( oyster的名词复数 ) | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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artifices
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| n.灵巧( artifice的名词复数 )；诡计；巧妙办法；虚伪行为 | |
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rumbled
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| 发出隆隆声，发出辘辘声( rumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 轰鸣着缓慢行进； 发现…的真相； 看穿（阴谋） | |
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jolted
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| （使）摇动， （使）震惊( jolt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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betoken
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| v.预示 | |
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bugle
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| n.军号，号角，喇叭；v.吹号，吹号召集 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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postpone
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| v.延期，推迟 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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crouch
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| v.蹲伏，蜷缩，低头弯腰；n.蹲伏 | |
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rattles
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| （使）发出格格的响声， （使）作嘎嘎声( rattle的第三人称单数 )； 喋喋不休地说话； 迅速而嘎嘎作响地移动，堕下或走动； 使紧张，使恐惧 | |
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buckle
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| n.扣子，带扣；v.把...扣住，由于压力而弯曲 | |
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retails
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| n.零售( retail的名词复数 ) | |
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precipitated
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| v.（突如其来地）使发生( precipitate的过去式和过去分词 )；促成；猛然摔下；使沉淀 | |
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harp
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| n.竖琴；天琴座 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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holly
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| n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
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ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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pouch
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| n.小袋，小包，囊状袋；vt.装...入袋中，用袋运输；vi.用袋送信件 | |
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strap
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| n.皮带，带子；v.用带扣住，束牢；用绷带包扎 | |
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49
mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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51
bawl
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| v.大喊大叫，大声地喊，咆哮 | |
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52
binding
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| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
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53
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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54
appellation
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| n.名称，称呼 | |
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55
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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56
joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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57
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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58
footpath
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| n.小路，人行道 | |
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59
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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60
specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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61
fret
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| v.(使)烦恼；(使)焦急；(使)腐蚀，(使)磨损 | |
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62
attachment
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| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
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63
elastic
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| n.橡皮圈，松紧带；adj.有弹性的；灵活的 | |
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64
fixtures
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| （房屋等的）固定装置( fixture的名词复数 )； 如（浴盆、抽水马桶）； 固定在某位置的人或物； （定期定点举行的）体育活动 | |
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65
transacted
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| v.办理（业务等）( transact的过去式和过去分词 )；交易，谈判 | |
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66
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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67
manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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68
anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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69
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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70
proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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71
conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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72
momentous
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| adj.重要的，重大的 | |
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73
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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74
surmounted
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|
| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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75
tenant
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| n.承租人；房客；佃户；v.租借，租用 | |
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76
devoutly
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| adv.虔诚地，虔敬地，衷心地 | |
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77
recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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78
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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79
benevolent
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| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
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80
bestowing
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| 砖窑中砖堆上层已烧透的砖 | |
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81
gush
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| v.喷，涌；滔滔不绝(说话)；n.喷，涌流；迸发 | |
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82
sedate
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| adj.沉着的，镇静的，安静的 | |
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83
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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84
qualified
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| adj.合格的，有资格的，胜任的，有限制的 | |
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85
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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86
remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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87
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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88
slumbers
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| 睡眠，安眠( slumber的名词复数 ) | |
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89
entreaties
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| n.恳求，乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
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90
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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91
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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92
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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93
truant
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|
| n.懒惰鬼，旷课者；adj.偷懒的，旷课的，游荡的；v.偷懒，旷课 | |
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94
stimulated
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| a.刺激的 | |
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95
precept
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| n.戒律；格言 | |
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96
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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97
licensed
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| adj.得到许可的v.许可，颁发执照(license的过去式和过去分词) | |
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98
sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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99
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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100
ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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101
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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102
illegible
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| adj.难以辨认的，字迹模糊的 | |
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103
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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104
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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105
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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106
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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107
devouring
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| 吞没( devour的现在分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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108
proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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109
morsels
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| n.一口( morsel的名词复数 )；（尤指食物）小块，碎屑 | |
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110
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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111
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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112
grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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113
carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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114
dissertation
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| n.（博士学位）论文，学术演讲，专题论文 | |
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115
thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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116
hilarity
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| n.欢乐；热闹 | |
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117
rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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118
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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119
gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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120
manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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121
stentorian
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| adj.大声的，响亮的 | |
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122
derive
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| v.取得；导出；引申；来自；源自；出自 | |
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123
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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124
disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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125
adjourn
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| v.（使）休会，（使）休庭 | |
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126
attaining
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的现在分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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127
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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128
bower
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| n.凉亭，树荫下凉快之处；闺房；v.荫蔽 | |
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129
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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130
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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131
revels
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| n.作乐( revel的名词复数 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉v.作乐( revel的第三人称单数 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
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132
jocosely
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| adv.说玩笑地，诙谐地 | |
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133
contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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134
benign
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| adj.善良的，慈祥的；良性的，无危险的 | |
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135
fiddles
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| n.小提琴( fiddle的名词复数 )；欺诈；（需要运用手指功夫的）细巧活动；当第二把手v.伪造( fiddle的第三人称单数 )；篡改；骗取；修理或稍作改动 | |
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136
pettishly
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137
expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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138
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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139
exertions
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| n.努力( exertion的名词复数 )；费力；（能力、权力等的）运用；行使 | |
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140
blandness
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| n.温柔，爽快 | |
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141
gravy
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| n.肉汁；轻易得来的钱，外快 | |
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142
inflicted
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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143
strand
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| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
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144
pickpocket
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| n.扒手；v.扒窃 | |
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145
digestion
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| n.消化，吸收 | |
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146
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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147
forefathers
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| n.祖先，先人；祖先，祖宗( forefather的名词复数 )；列祖列宗；前人 | |
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148
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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149
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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150
imbued
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| v.使（某人/某事）充满或激起（感情等）( imbue的过去式和过去分词 )；使充满；灌输；激发（强烈感情或品质等） | |
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151
superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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152
veneration
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| n.尊敬，崇拜 | |
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153
subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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154
tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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155
peals
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| n.（声音大而持续或重复的）洪亮的响声( peal的名词复数 )；隆隆声；洪亮的钟声；钟乐v.（使）（钟等）鸣响，（雷等）发出隆隆声( peal的第三人称单数 ) | |
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156
scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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157
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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158
evade
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| vt.逃避，回避；避开，躲避 | |
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159
agility
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| n.敏捷，活泼 | |
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160
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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161
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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162
hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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163
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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164
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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165
usher
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| n.带位员，招待员；vt.引导，护送；vi.做招待，担任引座员 | |
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166
beguile
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| vt.欺骗，消遣 | |
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167
forfeits
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| 罚物游戏 | |
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168
myriads
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| n.无数，极大数量( myriad的名词复数 ) | |
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169
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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170
tint
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| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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171
fickle
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| adj.(爱情或友谊上)易变的，不坚定的 | |
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172
treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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173
scatters
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| v.（使）散开， （使）分散，驱散( scatter的第三人称单数 )；撒 | |
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174
wry
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| adj.讽刺的；扭曲的 | |
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175
wither
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| vt.使凋谢，使衰退，(用眼神气势等)使畏缩；vi.枯萎，衰退，消亡 | |
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176
tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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177
awakens
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的第三人称单数 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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178
bumper
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| n.(汽车上的)保险杠；adj.特大的，丰盛的 | |
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179
jot
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| n.少量；vi.草草记下；vt.匆匆写下 | |
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180
tars
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| 焦油，沥青，柏油( tar的名词复数 ) | |
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181
ecstasies
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| 狂喜( ecstasy的名词复数 )； 出神； 入迷； 迷幻药 | |
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182
rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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183
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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184
stinted
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| v.限制，节省（stint的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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185
restrictions
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| 约束( restriction的名词复数 )； 管制； 制约因素； 带限制性的条件（或规则） | |
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