Twelfth Day was accordingly added to Miss Gerraghty's list of Bath Holidays—that is to say, the list allotted1 to Miss Gerraghty's visitors. Judging from appearances, her private list was composed of one infinite bath holiday; indeed, she has been heard in the kitchen announcing in clear tones her opinion of "them thrash of baths" to an audience whose hands and faces wore a sympathetic half-mourning. Nature, we were given to understand, had intended Miss Gerraghty to be a lady; a fate more blind to the fitness of things decreed that she should serve tables in a Galway lodging-house, a position in which higher destinies are likely to be overlooked. Some touches of dignity remained hers by an immutable3 etiquette4; no cap had ever found footing upon her raven5 fringe; a watch chain took the place of the ignoble6 white apron7. Chiefest of all prerogatives8, she was addressed as "Miss Gerraghty" by the establishment, an example so carefully set by her brother, the proprietor9, as to suggest that her dowry was mingled10 with the funds of the management.
With these solaces11 she doubtless fed her inner need of refinement12, even while she launched the thirteenth trump13 of repartee14 at the woman who came to sell turkeys, or broke a lance in coquetry with the coal man. Such episodes were freely audible to the sitting room by the hall—indeed, the woman with the turkeys finally thrust her flushed face and the turkey's haggard bosom15 round the door, in an appeal to C?sar that made the rooftree ring. These things occur in Galway, with a simplicity16 that is not often met with elsewhere.
There was an afternoon when a native of the Islands of Aran penetrated17 to the hearth-rug of Miss Gerraghty's front sitting-room18, in the endeavour to plant upon its occupants a forequarter of mutton that smelt19 of fish, and was as destitute20 of fat as the rocks of its birthplace. Even the Aran man's assurance that it was "as sweet as sugar," could not relax by a line the contempt with which Miss Gerraghty, when summoned to judgment21, surveyed the dainty and its owner. In course of the discussion, she took occasion to inform the company that she herself could only "eat ram22 mutton by the dint23 of the gravy," which bore, as it seemed, somewhat darkly upon the matter, but had the effect of deepening the complexion24 of the Aran man by quite two shades of maroon25, as he hoisted26 his unattractive burden to his frieze-clad shoulder and removed himself.
Miss Gerraghty then stated that them Aran people had a way of their own and a sense of their own, like the Indians, and that a gentleman friend of hers who travelled in tea, had once been weather-bound in Aran and had had a bad stomach ever since. She then retired27 to the kitchen, where the narrative28 of the rout29 of the Aran Islander held, for the space of ten enjoyable minutes, an audience swelled30 by the addition of the washerwoman and the baker's boy.
The incident passed, yet the phrase "a way of their own, and a sense of their own—like the Indians," hung hauntingly in the memory.
Any attempt to portray31 Marino Cottage would be incomplete without mention of its consort32, Ocean Prospect33, an affiliated34 establishment, spoken of in the household as "Opposite," from which, at any hour of the day or night, uncertain numbers of Miss Gerraghty's nieces crossed the road to Marino Cottage, laden36, like ants, with burdens varying from a feather bed to a kettle of boiling water. A flavour of the life of the "Swiss Family Robinson" was thus imparted, Ocean Prospect filling the position of the wreck38, which, as the virtuously39 brought up should remember, yielded fresh butter, kegs of gunpowder40, and bedroom slippers41 with equal promptness. Miss Gerraghty's nieces occupied undefined and interchangeable positions in both households, from Bedelia, who played the piano, and on Saturdays crimped her hood42 of auburn hair, to Bridget Ellen, who at seven years of age could discern a stale herring and tell the fishwoman so. Like Goldsmith, they left nothing untouched, and there was nothing that they touched that they did not adorn44, with genial45 finger-mark or the generously strewn cinder46. Their hats perched like mange-stricken parakeets in the hall, their witticisms47 drew forth48 the admiring yells of the kitchen audience from breakfast till bed time, the creaking of their boots was as the innumerable rendings of glazed49 calico, or the delirium50 of a corncrake. The Holy-days of the Roman Catholic church were observed by them with every honour, and with many varieties of evening party; and it is a matter for mingled thankfulness and regret that they observed them, for the most part, "Opposite." Assuredly Bedelia, with a clean face, playing dance music, would have been a spectacle hardly less memorable51 than Miss Gerraghty and her Sunday boots circling in a waltz and creaking through a quadrille, or sipping52 a glass of port with the delicacy53 befitting the noblesse. Yet with three Holy-days in one fortnight it might have proved excessive.
Miss Gerraghty rises irrepressibly into the foreground of these winter days, but Christmas week in Galway Town remains54 an impression both salient and characteristic. During its wet and miry days the country people moved in a slow and voluble throng55 through streets and shops, indifferent to weather, and time and space, while the sleety56 storm roared of shipwreck57 above the rooftops, and the wearied young gentlemen behind the counters held their own against the old women with a philosophy perfected in the afflictions of many market days.
"Four an' tinpince!" shouts an old woman in a short scarlet58 petticoat and a long blue cloak, scornfully thumbing a pair of boots and slapping them down on the counter. She traduces59 them, minutely, to a party of friends, who, being skilled in the r?le expected of them, implore60 her not to waste her valuable time on such unworthy objects. The salesman has placed himself upon a bench, with his legs extended along it, his eyes on the ceiling, and his arms folded; his lips repeat occasionally the formula "Five shillins!" otherwise he remains as remote as the Grand Lama of Tibet.
"You're too tight with me!" laments61 the proprietor of a cartload of apples, in pathetic appeal to a customer. "God knows I'm not tight!" responds the customer, with even superior pathos63, "but the times is scroogin' meself!"
It is, perhaps, the leading draper who endures most. All day long the blue cloaks and the bony elbows jostle against his counters, disparaging64 hands subject his calicoes and his flannels65 to gruesome tests, his plush work-bags and scent-cases are handled uncomprehendingly and flung aside; acrid66 jibes67 are levelled at his assistants, who, to do them justice, show a practised tartness68 in rejoinder. Through the noise and the smell of stale turf smoke a large musical-box hammers and tinkles69 forth the "Washington Post."
Late in the wild darkness of the January evenings the cry "Will thu gull-a-wallia?" (sic) ("Are you going home?") passes from group to group in the streets. It is far on into the night before the carts with their load of sleepy and drunken people cease to stagger and clatter70 along the bleak71 roads that take them home. Beaten with snow, blinded with rain, the holiday season wears itself out in darkness, dirt, and inconvenience, after the manner of such seasons, churches and public houses presenting the only open doors in the shuttered streets. All day the electric light hung its fervid72 loops of white fire up in the roof of the church of St. Nicholas, unearthly, coldly intense, suiting well the spirituality of arches and pillars, loftily interclasping through the storms of centuries. The tattered73 colours of the Connaught Rangers74 droop75 on either side of the chancel arch, shreds76 of mellow77 colour against the grey limestone78; they say things that are moving to a Galway heart. Out where the long Sea Road follows the shore of Galway Bay, the great winds press heavily against the windows of Marino Cottage, and the little one-horse trams glide79 on the desolate80 shining road like white-backed beetles81.
The year strengthened and the days lengthened82 over misty83 seas ridged with angry white. Out where the murky84 west held the Islands of Aran in its bosom, the sunsets came later day by day. Once, and memorably85, a dishevelled and flying pageant86 of green and lurid87 pink glowed, like the torn colours in the church, beneath the darkening roof of cloud; in its heart I saw the Aran steamer, labouring on the dark horizon of climbing waves.
* * * * *
It was February when Circumstance took me in her hand and flung me across two seas into the blue and gold weather and the purple and silver mountains of the Department of "Pyrénées Orientales;" and May had come before I was again in London, shivering in a cold rain that dropped acridly88 out of the dirty fog, the orphan89 rain of London, that knows no previousness of clouded hill, no dignity of broad-sailed mists moving up along the moor90, no hereafter of clean breezes sweeping91 the bounteous92 heaven. Twenty hours later the mild yet poignant93 fragrance94 of Irish air was in the window of my railway carriage, and the smell of turf smoke came up out of the west across the stone walls of Roscommon.
Turf smoke lurked96 in concentrated staleness about the garb97 of the two priests in the opposite corner, yet it was preferable to yesterday's raw whiff of the Channel; the galloping98 whisper of the Daily Office in the two Breviaries revealed the accents of Connaught, and were comfortable to an ear already soothed99 by drowsiness100. Let others roll and stagger to foreign lands in front of the lashing101 fins102 of a screw, I was advancing on an even axle into springtime in the County of Galway; in my mind's eye I beheld103 the Aran steamer leisurely104 paddling upon a sea of satin smoothness to the unknown islands, and in my ear sang the phrase "a way of their own, and a sense of their own; like the Indians."
Two mornings later the door of my bedroom in a hotel in Eyre Square, Galway, was dealt a fateful blow by the hand of the hotel cook, at 3.30 A.M., a blow weighted by lifelong combat with loins of mutton. It was no less a person than she who placed the teapot on the breakfast table, murmuring apologetically that "Gerrls was no good to rise early, but owld ones like herself wouldn't ax to stay in bed." The sunshine of May fell upon her grey locks as she stood at the portal to watch her guest's departure, and her "God speed ye!" mingled with the bang of the swing-door as it slammed upon the dark and sleeping house.
The laburnums of Eyre Square were fountains of gold, and the lilac was delicate and cool; a perfect stillness lay upon Galway. Passing on through the streets there was no sign of life, and the morning sunshine smote105 on ranks of muffled106 windows: here and there on the old houses the coats-of-arms of the Galway Tribes uplifted their melancholy107 witness to bygone greatness, but the town spoke35 with no living voice. Emerging at length from between blind-eyed house fronts, the docks were reached, and in the large vacant spaces of water now to be found where was once the second port of the United Kingdom, the smoke of a little steamer rose in lonely activity, with the mountains of Clare and the glitter of Galway Bay for a background.
There was some delay in departure, owing partly to a genial sympathy with the unpunctual, partly to a question of precedence among a pig family in the process of embarkation108. The captain, a large clerical man in a soft felt hat, bore it with the equanimity109 of one who has learned in many journeys between Galway and Aran what is the full significance of the devils having entered into the swine. The boat moved out at length into the gleaming breadth of the bay; slowly the gray town grouped itself in its low-lying corner, the spires110 rose, waist-deep in roofs, and the heavy tower of St. Nicholas bore its associations of seven hundred years in the brilliant youth of the spring sunlight. The western suburbs stretched far along the bay, with slopes smoothly111 wooded; white houses looked blankly out from their trim demesnes, like alienated112 friends gazing an unmoved farewell. Even Marino Cottage, attired113 in a summer wash of pink, seemed to regard us with a new and strange exclusiveness. Inexpressibly pure of plumage, the gulls114 rode the clear wavelets, and swooped115 from poise116 to poise with striding wing, masters of art in two elements, with cold eyes observant of the cumbrous creature that crawled on the face of the waters with smoke and foam117 and splashing. Thirty miles away a low, blue mound118 on the horizon represented those Islands of Aran described in the ancient "Book of Rights" as "The Aras of the Sea;" the bows of the steamer swung to them, gradually the brown and ragged119 coasts of Connemara opened away to the north, and to the south the barren verge120 of the County of Clare was shorn perpendicular121 to the sea at the thousand-foot drop of the cliffs of Moher.
KILRONAN BAY
KILRONAN BAY
The steamer plodded122 on at her ten miles an hour, the pig families below uttered no more than an occasional yell of fractiousness or dolour, and a party of Aran women sat and conversed123 under their red shawls with that unflagging zest124 and seemingly inexhaustible supply of material that may well be the envy of the cultured.
It was eight o'clock when the anchor was let go in Kilronan Bay, opposite the principal village of the principal island, while the changeless sunshine shone on shallow green water, on dazzling whitewashed125 cottages, on dark hills and valleys of grey stone. Round the steamer flocked battered126 punts and tarred canvas corraghs with their bows high out of the water; tanned faces, puckered127 by the sunlight, stared up from them, and in a storm of Irish the process of disembarking began—the phrase but feebly expresses the spectacle of a kitchen table lowered from the deck and laid on its back in a corragh, or the feat37 of placing an old woman sitting in the table with a gander in her lap. The corragh has no keel, and a sneeze is rightly believed to be fatal to its equilibrium128, but an Aran old woman and an Aran gander can rush in where Sir Isaac Newton might fear to tread.
A crowd waited at the pier129's end, as the boats came creaking and gliding130 in to their feet; a crowd of large and angular people, their faces strong and inquisitive131, and instantly remarkable132 to any one accustomed to the mild and half-bashful expression of West Galway eyes. There is about them an air of a foreign race and of an earlier century. Under circumstances less soul-stirring than the arrival of the Galway steamer, their long composed faces express their monotony of mood; their eyes are steady and far-looking, as those that from day to day measure the sweep of great horizons. Men and women alike wear "pampooties"—-slippers of raw cowhide, with the hair outside—and walk with the alertness and erectness133 that are learned from rocky ground and the absence of stiff and high-heeled boots; the men affect short, full trousers, ending high above the ankle, so that the pampootie is freely displayed in its varieties of dun or black or speckled hide. Topping the costume is a "Tam o' Shanter" cap, probably made in Birmingham. It is not a graceful134 dress, but the square shoulders and flat backs would dignify135 a worse one, and the mild and mottled pampootie loses its effeminacy with the people's singularly emphatic136 tread.
AN ARAN FISHERMAN
AN ARAN FISHERMAN
A hostelry of two whitewashed stories and a thatched roof faced the pier, and we went thither137 in search of a car, ordered some days before. The door was open, admitting a flood of sunshine to a narrow passage, on one side of which was a kitchen, on the other a sitting-room, with a wall paper of drab trellis-work starred with balls of Reckitt's blue—so it seemed, at least, to eyes blinded by the outer glare. It contained chiefly the smell of apples and sour bread proper to rooms of its class, such as in the Isles138 of Aran seemed impossibly conventional. Train-oil and sealskins would have shed a fitter perfume. Having invoked139 the household in vain, I essayed the kitchen, where an old man in shirt-sleeves was in the act of eating his breakfast. He regarded me, not without aversion, and continued to share an egg with a child of three years old who stood intent and dirty-faced at his elbow. I waited till a precarious140 teaspoonful141 had been lowered into the wide open mouth, and made my inquiry142 about the car.
"They're out since five o'clock looking for the horse." Another spoonful of egg trembled in the balance, and entered the speaker's mouth, not without disaster.
I averted143 my eyes, and asked where the horse was usually kept.
"He does be out on the rocks." The spoon was pointed145 out of the window, somewhat peevishly146.
Looking in the direction indicated, we saw the arid147 shore of the bay, where, instead of sands, grey stone in platforms and pavements met the blue and glittering tide. From the shore the country rose in haggard slopes of gray stone with rifts148 of green; cresting149 the height, one of Aran's many ruined oratories150 lifted a naked gable in the deep of the sky. A narrow road followed the bend of the bay, glaring white for two shelterless miles; no living thing was visible; the pursuit of the horse must be raging on the other side of the island. It continued for another hour, with what episodes of crag and crevasse151 can scarcely be imagined; finally a dejected and shaggy captive was led in and was thrust into the shafts152 of a car.
The drive that followed is not easily forgotten. There were moments when the car seemed to open at all its joints153, as if falling asunder154 from exhaustion155; and the shafts swayed and swung like twin bowsprits, the wheels creaked ominously156, and one tyre left an undulating line in the gritty dust of the road. On either side spread floors of stone, on which sat parliaments of boulders157; we passed a stone platform so large and so level that the addition of three walls has made a creditable ball-alley of it. The walls are said to have been built with money given for the relief of distress159 in Aran; if so, relief money has often been worse spent in the West of Ireland. The road kept in touch with the coast, the car mounted to higher ground, with the shafts pointing heavenward on either side of the horse's touzled mane. Pale green fields and pale tracts160 of sand mitigated161 the tyranny of rock, as the island sloped south-eastward into the rich and wide azure162 of the sea. A village straggled along the shore, the chief mass of the low, white houses clustered round a fragment of bastion and buttress163 that tells of the days when Cromwell's arm was long enough to grasp even Aran and build a stronghold there, what time the iron entered into the soul of Galway.
"WHITE HOUSES CLUSTERED ROUND A FRAGMENT OF BASTION"
"WHITE HOUSES CLUSTERED ROUND A FRAGMENT OF BASTION"
The builders of the castle had not far to seek for their cut stone. Four churches and a lofty and slender Round Tower were close at hand, a constellation164 in the devotional system of "Ara the Holy," the mother of many saints and many churches, and therefore peculiarly suited to the purpose of the Cromwellians. The churches were demolished165, the topmost stones of the Tower were utilised, and its "Sweet bell" lost in the sand. Today but twelve feet of the beautiful masonry166 remain to testify to the fervid skill of its builders.
Red-shawled women sat by the white-washed doorways167 of the village, red petticoated children pattered barefoot on the hot rocks by the roadside, and behind them burned the sea's leagues of lapis lazuli; the green of the grass lands intervened suavely168 in the delicious jangle of colour. We were at our journey's end so far as the car was concerned; the artless islander, having extorted169 a payment of four shillings for a drive of two miles, retired, and we pursued our way on foot to the Lodge170 above the village, which was our destination.
"THE OUTLINE OF CONNEMARA WAS STILL SHARP"
"THE OUTLINE OF CONNEMARA WAS STILL SHARP"
Life at the Lodge on the hill during the ten days that followed had aspects that were wholly ideal, and aspects that were unreservedly scullion. The chief windows faced north-east, framing a splendid outlook across a plain of sea to where the Connemara mountains have pitched their tents in a jagged line, pale in the torpid171 heat of morning, dark at evening against some lengthening172 creek173 of sunset. When, at some ten of the clock the rooms in the lonely house had passed from gloaming to darkness, and the paraffin lamp glared smokily at the semi-grand piano and the horsehair sofa, the wild and noble outline of Connemara was still sharp, the gleam behind it still a harbourage for the daylight.
The more elementary needs of the establishment were coped with by a henchwoman from the village below, a middle-aged174 and taciturn widow, wearing a red-checked shawl over her broad chest, a smaller red shawl over her head, an excessively short red homespun skirt, and pampooties. In the early hours of the summer morning her step, muffled in cowhide, traversed the house weightily; in due time followed the entrance of the stable bucket, borne with a slow stride that showed to admiration175 the grey woollen ankles under the short skirt: her eye rested askance, and not without saturnine176 humour, upon the weakling of a later civilisation177 who still lay in bed. As the bucket was set down a deep and serious voice uttered the monosyllable "bath," as colourlessly as the bleat178 of a sheep, and, with the exit of her sallow face and dreamy blue eyes, the strange, arduous179, trifling180 day began.
Breakfast was not its least achievement, prepared by our own hands at a turf fire that added an aroma181 of its own to the coffee, and delicately flavoured the hot milk. Owing to a scarcity182 of saucepans the eggs must be boiled in a portly iron pot and fished from its depths with the tongs183, and through all, and impeding184 all, went the flushed pertinacity185 of the amateur toast-maker. Dinner was a more serious affair, a strenuous186 triumph of mind over matter and over the Widow Holloran, a daily despair, by reason of potatoes whose hearts remained harder than Pharaoh's, and chiefly by reason of the dearth187 of pie-dishes.
"Why wouldn't ye ax Miss O'Regan down in the town for the loan of a pie-dish? Sure she's full up of pie-dishes." This remarkable information came from Mrs. Holloran, but was not acted upon.
After twenty four hours of the ministry188 of the Widow Holloran, we found the conclusion forced upon us that the Simple Life was far more complicated, and infinitely189 more exacting190 than the normal existence of the worldling. To us, nurturing191 a sulky flame in a gloomy pile of turf, the truly Simple Life resolved itself into two words: good servants. Even the least of Miss Gerraghty's nieces would have been a Godsend; the thought of mutton chops, procurable192 at any instant, all but brought a dimness to the eye that foresaw a dinner—the third in succession—of American bacon and eggs that tasted of fish. It was in one of the long May twilights that we were waited upon by the man who had, on the hearthrug of Marino Cottage's Front Sitting-room, offered us mutton, sweet as sugar. This time he offered not mutton, but sheep; he produced a sort of subscription193 list, and invited us to put down our names for any piece we might prefer of an animal which was at the moment nibbling194 the dainty grass among the boulders. We subscribed195, with a shudder196 which was, as it proved, superfluous197. The subscription list did not fill, and two days afterwards we were told that the matter had fallen through, and if we wanted "buttcher's mate" we must telegraph to Galway.
I have heard, in another part of Ireland, described slightingly as "a wild westhern place in Cork," of a somewhat similar, but more elaborate process. "When they goes to kill a cow there, they dhrive her out through the sthreet, and a man in front of her ringing a bell, and another man with her, and he having a bit o' chalk (and it should be a black cow). Every one then can tell what bit of her they want, and the man dhraws it out on her with the chalk. But it should be a black cow." I think it was a relative of this butcher who, when remonstrated198 with about his meat, on the ground that it had not been properly killed, replied unanswerably, "I declare to ye, the one that had the killing199 of that cow was the Lord Almighty200."
Meals at the Lodge were not things done in a corner. Sheep cropped the grass to the edge of the window sill, village children loitered observantly on their way to the well, tall brindled201 dogs, in whom must lurk95 some strain of the old Irish wolfhound, gnawed202 sapless bones in the porch, as in an accustomed sanctuary203. The cuckoo, that pretended recluse204, passed and repassed in clumsy flight, even perching on the roof of the house, and sending a hoarse205 and hollow cry down the chimney. Sitting on the rock ledges206 in the long morning, the chiefest concern of idleness was to note his short and graceless flittings from boulder158 to wall, his tactless call, coarsened by nearness and the lack of illusion. Not thus does the spirit voice poise the twin notes in tireless mystery, among the wooded shores of Connemara lakes.
Below the Lodge, to the south-east, the restless sand has smothered207 many a landmark208, obliterated209 many a grave. Lie down in it, it is a soft bed; let it slip through your fingers, dry and fine and delicate, while the sea line is high and blue above you, and the light breaker strikes the slow moments in rhythm. Saint and oratory210, cloghaun and cromlech, lie deep in its oblivion, their memory living faintly and more faintly from lip to lip through the years; around the saints their halos still linger, pale in this age's noonday, and the fishermen still strike sail at the corner of the island to the little crumbling211 tower that is supposed to mark the grave of Saint Gregory.
The ridge43 of the island runs in table lands of rock, dropping in cliffs to the sea along its south-western face. These heights are level deserts of stone, streaked212 with soft grass where the yellow vetch blazes and a myriad213 wild roses lay their petals214 against the boulders. Yet even these handmaids of the rock are not the tenderest of its surprises. Look down the slits215 and fissures216 as you step across them on a May day, and you will see fronds217 of maiden218 hair climbing out of the darkness and warm mud below. A month later they will be strong and tall above the surface; the clots219 of foam may often strike them when, below their platform, the piled-up Atlantic rolls its vastness to the attack, with the cruel green of the up-drawn wave, with the hurl220 of the pent tons against crag and cliff. But for us, on that May morning, land and sea lay in rapt accord, and the breast of the brimming tide was laid to the breast of the cliff, with a low and broken voice of joy.
The walk here became finally and definitely a steeplechase, and those not bred in Galway had better think twice before attempting an Aran stone wall; indeed, when five feet of ponderous221 and trembling stone lattice work has to be dealt with, the native himself will probably adopt the simple course of throwing it down, building it up again or not, according to the dictates222 of conscience. If the explorer survives two hours of this exercise, he will have reached the fort of Dun ?ngus, built in days when Christianity, a climbing sunrise, was as yet far below the Irish horizon. Of its kind, it is reputed to be as perfect as anything in Europe, but it is an unlovely kind. Three invertebrate223 walls of loose stones, eighteen feet high and fifteen feet thick, sprawl224 in a triple horseshoe to the edge of a cliff, which, with its sheer drop of three hundred feet to the sea, completes the line of defence. The innermost of the three ramparts encloses a windy plateau where, in times of siege, the Firbolg Prince ?ngus, son of Huamor, probably enjoyed the society of all the cattle in the island, and of an indefinite number of wives. The outermost225 rampart girdles eleven acres of rocky hillside, and here the unwearied savage226 labour constructed a chevaux-de-frise by wedging slabs227 and splinters of stone into every crevice228. Hardly now, in the intelligent calm of sight-seeing, can the invader229 make a way through the ankle-breaking confusion, where, in the gloaming centuries before St. Patrick, bloody230 hands clutched the limestone edges in the death stagger, and matted heads crashed dizzily down, in unrecorded death and courage and despair.
After those days Danes and Irish and English plundered231 in their turn, but the stillness of the rock and the loneliness of the sea closed in again on the islands, while on the mainland rebellion and conquest alternated in a various agony, and the civilisation thrust on Ireland was a coat of many colours, dipped in blood. These Aras of the Sea rest in their primitive232 calm, nurturing a strong, leisurely people, with the patience and hardiness233 of the rock in their blood; equipped physically234 for any destiny, equipped mentally with the quick financial ability and shrewdness of the Irish, yet slow to imitate, slow in the adoption235 of what others initiate236, regarding, I fear, their country as the invalid237 and ill-used wife of the British ogre, a wife of the admired Early Victorian type, unoriginative, prolific238, and unable to support herself.
Looking down from Dun ?ngus there is little expression of the three thousand lives that are hemmed239 in this floating parish. No wheel is audible along the nine miles of Irish moor; the other two islands lie gray and still, rimmed240 by fawning241 and flashing tides, lifeless save where the smoke of burning kelp creeps blue by the water's edge.
It is a pleasant descent to the village of Kilmurvey, down through the buoyant air of the hill side; the grass steals its way among the outposts of rock, till the foot travels with unfamiliar242 ease in level fields. Near Kilmurvey the Resident Magistrate's house shows a trim roof among young larch243 and spruce, a miracle of modernity and right angles after the strewn monstrosities of the ridge above; passing near it, a piano gave forth a Nocturne of Chopin's to the solitude244, a patrician245 lament62, a skilled passion, in a land where ear and voice have preserved the single threads of melody, and harmony is as yet unwoven.
With its barbaric novelties of colour, its wild, red-clad women, its background of grey rock, its glare of sunshine, Aran should be a place known to painters, but at the first sight of even the sketch246 book the village street becomes a desert; the mothers, spitting to avert144 the "bad eye," snatch their children into their houses, and bang their doors. The old women vanish from the door steps, the boys take to the rocks. As it is the creed2 of Aran that any one that has his "likeness247 dhrew out" will die within the year, it seems unfeeling to urge the matter upon them. Here and there the mission shilling makes its convert; an old woman braced248 herself to the risk on the excellent ground that she would probably die before the year was out, and might as well make the most of her chances. She found the idea highly humorous, and so did several of the neighbours.
Our departure from Aran was not out of keeping with the general run of events there. Struggling with painting materials, plants of maidenhair fern, and the usual oversights249 and overflows250 of packing, scantily251 enveloped252 in newspaper, we made our way on foot from the Lodge to the bay below it, a distance of some two or three hundred yards, and there embarked253, attended to the boat by Mrs. Holloran and her next of kin—in other words, a crowd of some twenty deeply interested persons. We had shoved off and were moving out towards the steamer over the transparent254 green deeps of the bay, when I remembered the little boy who had driven our portmanteaux down to the beach in a donkey cart, and I flung a shilling to one of the next-of-kin in settlement of the obligation. We saw the emissary present the tribute.
"He'll not take it!" was shouted from the shore.
I protested at the full pitch of my voice to the effect that he must not allow his magnanimity to interfere255 with his just dues, that I was very glad to give it to him.
"He'll take three!" travelled to us like a cannon256 ball across the translucent257 water.
Nothing travelled back. Nothing, that is, except the Galway steamer, which presently flapped its paddles into the falling tide, and took us away to regions where we ourselves were natives, and viewed the tourist with a proper hauteur258.
Meditating259 on those May days, winnowed260 now of their husk of culinary difficulties, they seem the most purely261 lonely, the most crowded with impressions, that could befall. Habituated to the stillness of West Galway life, these stillnesses were vast and expressive262 beyond any previous experience of mine; in the shadeless brilliance263, the bare grayness, I breathed a foreign and tingling264 air. The people's profoundly self-centred existence has "no thoroughfare" written across it; lying on the warm rocks, they see Ireland stretched silent, enigmatic, apart from them, and are content that it is so. Their poverty is known to many, their way of thought to a few; they remain motionless on the edge of Europe, with the dust of the saints beneath their feet.
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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2
creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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3
immutable
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| adj.不可改变的，永恒的 | |
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4
etiquette
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| n.礼仪，礼节；规矩 | |
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5
raven
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| n.渡鸟，乌鸦；adj.乌亮的 | |
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6
ignoble
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| adj.不光彩的，卑鄙的；可耻的 | |
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7
apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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8
prerogatives
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| n.权利( prerogative的名词复数 )；特权；大主教法庭；总督委任组成的法庭 | |
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9
proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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10
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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11
solaces
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| n.安慰，安慰物( solace的名词复数 ) | |
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12
refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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13
trump
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| n.王牌，法宝；v.打出王牌，吹喇叭 | |
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14
repartee
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| n.机敏的应答 | |
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15
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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16
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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17
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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18
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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19
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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20
destitute
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| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
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21
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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22
ram
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| (random access memory)随机存取存储器 | |
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23
dint
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| n.由于，靠；凹坑 | |
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24
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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25
maroon
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| v.困住，使（人）处于孤独无助之境；n.逃亡黑奴；孤立的人；酱紫色，褐红色；adj.酱紫色的，褐红色的 | |
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26
hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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27
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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28
narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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29
rout
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| n.溃退，溃败；v.击溃，打垮 | |
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30
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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31
portray
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| v.描写，描述；画(人物、景象等) | |
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32
consort
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| v.相伴；结交 | |
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33
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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34
affiliated
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| adj. 附属的, 有关连的 | |
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35
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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36
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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37
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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38
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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39
virtuously
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| 合乎道德地，善良地 | |
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40
gunpowder
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| n.火药 | |
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41
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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42
hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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43
ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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44
adorn
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| vt.使美化，装饰 | |
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45
genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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46
cinder
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| n.余烬，矿渣 | |
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47
witticisms
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| n.妙语，俏皮话( witticism的名词复数 ) | |
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48
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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49
glazed
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| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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50
delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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51
memorable
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| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
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52
sipping
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
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53
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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54
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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55
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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56
sleety
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| 雨夹雪的，下雨雪的 | |
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57
shipwreck
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| n.船舶失事，海难 | |
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58
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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59
traduces
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| v.诋毁( traduce的第三人称单数 )；诽谤；违反；背叛 | |
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60
implore
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| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
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61
laments
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| n.悲恸，哀歌，挽歌( lament的名词复数 )v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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62
lament
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| n.悲叹，悔恨，恸哭；v.哀悼，悔恨，悲叹 | |
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63
pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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64
disparaging
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| adj.轻蔑的，毁谤的v.轻视( disparage的现在分词 )；贬低；批评；非难 | |
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65
flannels
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| 法兰绒男裤； 法兰绒( flannel的名词复数 ) | |
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66
acrid
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| adj.辛辣的，尖刻的，刻薄的 | |
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67
jibes
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| n.与…一致( jibe的名词复数 )；（与…）相符；相匹配v.与…一致( jibe的第三人称单数 )；（与…）相符；相匹配 | |
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68
tartness
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| n.酸，锋利 | |
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69
tinkles
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| 丁当声，铃铃声( tinkle的名词复数 )； 一次电话 | |
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70
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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71
bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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72
fervid
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| adj.热情的；炽热的 | |
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73
tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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74
rangers
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| 护林者( ranger的名词复数 )； 突击队员 | |
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75
droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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76
shreds
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| v.撕碎，切碎( shred的第三人称单数 )；用撕毁机撕毁（文件） | |
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77
mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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78
limestone
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| n.石灰石 | |
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79
glide
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| n./v.溜，滑行；(时间)消逝 | |
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80
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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81
beetles
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| n.甲虫( beetle的名词复数 ) | |
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82
lengthened
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| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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83
misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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84
murky
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| adj.黑暗的，朦胧的；adv.阴暗地，混浊地；n.阴暗；昏暗 | |
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85
memorably
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| 难忘的 | |
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86
pageant
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| n.壮观的游行；露天历史剧 | |
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87
lurid
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| adj.可怕的；血红的；苍白的 | |
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88
acridly
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| adj.辛辣的；刺鼻的；（性格、态度、言词等）刻薄的；尖刻的 | |
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89
orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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90
moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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91
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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92
bounteous
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| adj.丰富的 | |
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93
poignant
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| adj.令人痛苦的，辛酸的，惨痛的 | |
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94
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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95
lurk
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| n.潜伏，潜行；v.潜藏，潜伏，埋伏 | |
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96
lurked
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| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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97
garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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98
galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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99
soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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100
drowsiness
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| n.睡意；嗜睡 | |
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101
lashing
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| n.鞭打；痛斥；大量；许多v.鞭打( lash的现在分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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102
fins
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| [医]散热片；鱼鳍；飞边；鸭掌 | |
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103
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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104
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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105
smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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106
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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107
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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108
embarkation
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| n. 乘船, 搭机, 开船 | |
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109
equanimity
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| n.沉着，镇定 | |
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110
spires
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| n.（教堂的） 塔尖，尖顶( spire的名词复数 ) | |
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111
smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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112
alienated
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| adj.感到孤独的，不合群的v.使疏远( alienate的过去式和过去分词 )；使不友好；转让；让渡（财产等） | |
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113
attired
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| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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114
gulls
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| n.鸥( gull的名词复数 )v.欺骗某人( gull的第三人称单数 ) | |
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115
swooped
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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116
poise
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| vt./vi. 平衡，保持平衡；n.泰然自若，自信 | |
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117
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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118
mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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119
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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120
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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121
perpendicular
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| adj.垂直的，直立的；n.垂直线，垂直的位置 | |
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122
plodded
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| v.沉重缓慢地走（路）( plod的过去式和过去分词 )；努力从事；沉闷地苦干；缓慢进行（尤指艰难枯燥的工作） | |
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123
conversed
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
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124
zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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125
whitewashed
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| 粉饰，美化，掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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126
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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127
puckered
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| v.（使某物）起褶子或皱纹( pucker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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128
equilibrium
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| n.平衡，均衡，相称，均势，平静 | |
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129
pier
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| n.码头；桥墩，桥柱；[建]窗间壁，支柱 | |
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130
gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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131
inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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132
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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133
erectness
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| n.直立 | |
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134
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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135
dignify
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| vt.使有尊严；使崇高；给增光 | |
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136
emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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137
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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138
isles
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| 岛( isle的名词复数 ) | |
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139
invoked
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| v.援引( invoke的过去式和过去分词 )；行使（权利等）；祈求救助；恳求 | |
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140
precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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141
teaspoonful
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| n.一茶匙的量；一茶匙容量 | |
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142
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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143
averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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144
avert
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| v.防止，避免；转移(目光、注意力等) | |
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145
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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146
peevishly
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| adv．暴躁地 | |
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147
arid
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| adj.干旱的；(土地)贫瘠的 | |
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148
rifts
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| n.裂缝( rift的名词复数 )；裂隙；分裂；不和 | |
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149
cresting
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| n.顶饰v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的现在分词 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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150
oratories
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| n.演讲术( oratory的名词复数 )；（用长词或正式词语的）词藻华丽的言辞 | |
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151
crevasse
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| n. 裂缝，破口；v.使有裂缝 | |
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152
shafts
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| n.轴( shaft的名词复数 )；（箭、高尔夫球棒等的）杆；通风井；一阵（疼痛、害怕等） | |
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153
joints
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| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
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154
asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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155
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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156
ominously
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| adv.恶兆地，不吉利地；预示地 | |
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157
boulders
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| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
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158
boulder
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| n.巨砾；卵石，圆石 | |
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159
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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tracts
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| 大片土地( tract的名词复数 )； 地带； （体内的）道； （尤指宣扬宗教、伦理或政治的）短文 | |
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161
mitigated
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| v.减轻，缓和( mitigate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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162
azure
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| adj.天蓝色的，蔚蓝色的 | |
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163
buttress
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| n.支撑物；v.支持 | |
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164
constellation
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| n.星座n.灿烂的一群 | |
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165
demolished
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| v.摧毁( demolish的过去式和过去分词 )；推翻；拆毁（尤指大建筑物）；吃光 | |
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166
masonry
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| n.砖土建筑；砖石 | |
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167
doorways
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| n.门口，门道( doorway的名词复数 ) | |
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168
suavely
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169
extorted
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| v.敲诈( extort的过去式和过去分词 )；曲解 | |
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170
lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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171
torpid
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| adj.麻痹的，麻木的，迟钝的 | |
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172
lengthening
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| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的现在分词 )； 加长 | |
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173
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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174
middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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175
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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176
saturnine
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| adj.忧郁的，沉默寡言的，阴沉的，感染铅毒的 | |
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177
civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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178
bleat
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| v.咩咩叫，(讲)废话，哭诉；n.咩咩叫，废话，哭诉 | |
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179
arduous
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| adj.艰苦的，费力的，陡峭的 | |
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180
trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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181
aroma
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| n.香气，芬芳，芳香 | |
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182
scarcity
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| n.缺乏，不足，萧条 | |
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183
tongs
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| n.钳；夹子 | |
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184
impeding
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| a.(尤指坏事)即将发生的，临近的 | |
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185
pertinacity
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| n.执拗，顽固 | |
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186
strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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187
dearth
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| n.缺乏，粮食不足，饥谨 | |
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188
ministry
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| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
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189
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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190
exacting
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| adj.苛求的，要求严格的 | |
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191
nurturing
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| 养育( nurture的现在分词 )； 培育； 滋长； 助长 | |
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192
procurable
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| adj.可得到的，得手的 | |
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193
subscription
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| n.预订，预订费，亲笔签名，调配法，下标（处方） | |
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194
nibbling
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| v.啃，一点一点地咬（吃）( nibble的现在分词 )；啃出（洞），一点一点咬出（洞）；慢慢减少；小口咬 | |
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195
subscribed
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| v.捐助( subscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；签署，题词；订阅；同意 | |
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196
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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197
superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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198
remonstrated
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
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199
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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200
almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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201
brindled
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| adj.有斑纹的 | |
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202
gnawed
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| 咬( gnaw的过去式和过去分词 )； （长时间） 折磨某人； （使）苦恼； （长时间）危害某事物 | |
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203
sanctuary
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| n.圣所，圣堂，寺庙；禁猎区，保护区 | |
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204
recluse
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| n.隐居者 | |
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205
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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206
ledges
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| n.（墙壁，悬崖等）突出的狭长部分( ledge的名词复数 )；（平窄的）壁架；横档；（尤指）窗台 | |
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207
smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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208
landmark
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| n.陆标，划时代的事，地界标 | |
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209
obliterated
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| v.除去( obliterate的过去式和过去分词 )；涂去；擦掉；彻底破坏或毁灭 | |
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210
oratory
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| n.演讲术；词藻华丽的言辞 | |
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211
crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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212
streaked
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| adj.有条斑纹的，不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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213
myriad
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| adj.无数的；n.无数，极大数量 | |
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214
petals
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| n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
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215
slits
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| n.狭长的口子，裂缝( slit的名词复数 )v.切开，撕开( slit的第三人称单数 )；在…上开狭长口子 | |
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216
fissures
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| n.狭长裂缝或裂隙( fissure的名词复数 )；裂伤；分歧；分裂v.裂开( fissure的第三人称单数 ) | |
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217
fronds
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| n.蕨类或棕榈类植物的叶子( frond的名词复数 ) | |
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218
maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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219
clots
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| n.凝块( clot的名词复数 )；血块；蠢人；傻瓜v.凝固( clot的第三人称单数 ) | |
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220
hurl
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| vt.猛投，力掷，声叫骂 | |
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221
ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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222
dictates
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| n.命令，规定，要求( dictate的名词复数 )v.大声讲或读( dictate的第三人称单数 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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223
invertebrate
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| n.无脊椎动物 | |
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224
sprawl
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| vi.躺卧，扩张，蔓延；vt.使蔓延；n.躺卧，蔓延 | |
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225
outermost
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| adj.最外面的，远离中心的 | |
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226
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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227
slabs
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| n.厚板，平板，厚片( slab的名词复数 )；厚胶片 | |
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228
crevice
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| n.(岩石、墙等)裂缝；缺口 | |
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229
invader
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| n.侵略者，侵犯者，入侵者 | |
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230
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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231
plundered
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| 掠夺，抢劫( plunder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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232
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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233
hardiness
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| n.耐劳性，强壮；勇气，胆子 | |
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234
physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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235
adoption
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| n.采用，采纳，通过；收养 | |
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236
initiate
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| vt.开始，创始，发动；启蒙，使入门；引入 | |
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237
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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238
prolific
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| adj.丰富的，大量的；多产的，富有创造力的 | |
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239
hemmed
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| 缝…的褶边( hem的过去式和过去分词 )； 包围 | |
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240
rimmed
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| adj.有边缘的，有框的v.沿…边缘滚动；给…镶边 | |
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241
fawning
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| adj.乞怜的，奉承的v.（尤指狗等）跳过来往人身上蹭以示亲热( fawn的现在分词 )；巴结；讨好 | |
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242
unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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243
larch
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| n.落叶松 | |
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244
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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245
patrician
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| adj.贵族的，显贵的；n.贵族；有教养的人；罗马帝国的地方官 | |
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246
sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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247
likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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248
braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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249
oversights
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| n.疏忽( oversight的名词复数 )；忽略；失察；负责 | |
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250
overflows
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| v.溢出，淹没( overflow的第三人称单数 )；充满；挤满了人；扩展出界，过度延伸 | |
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251
scantily
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| adv.缺乏地；不充足地；吝啬地；狭窄地 | |
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252
enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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253
embarked
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| 乘船( embark的过去式和过去分词 )； 装载； 从事 | |
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254
transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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255
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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256
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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257
translucent
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| adj.半透明的；透明的 | |
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258
hauteur
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| n.傲慢 | |
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259
meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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260
winnowed
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| adj.扬净的，风选的v.扬( winnow的过去式和过去分词 )；辨别；选择；除去 | |
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261
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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262
expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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263
brilliance
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| n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智 | |
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264
tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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