All this our friend observes at a glance, but his attention is soon arrested by the business in his front.
The hounds, having over-run the scent21 a trifle, swing to the line again with dashing confidence, and take it up once more with an energy that seems but increased by their momentary22 hesitation23.
They might have been covered by a sheet hitherto: now they lengthen24 out into a string, and the leaders scour25 along, with their noses in the air and their sterns lowered. Every yard increases their distance from the pursuing horsemen.
They are pointing to a dead flat surface of old yellow grass, with patches of rushes and ant-hills interspersed26. There would appear to be a mile or more of plain without a fence; but Mr. Sawyer spies a tell-tale willow27 here and there, and he wishes in his heart that he was quite sure Hotspur could jump water!
Presently the hounds disappear, and emerge again, throwing their tongues as they take to running, and looking darker and less distinct than before.
“Is there a ford28, Charles?” halloos Major Brush, who has shaken to the front, and would fain continue there without a wetting.
“Never a one for miles,” answers Charles with inconceivable rapidity, catching29 his horse by the head, and performing a running accompaniment with his spurs.
In a few seconds, he is over with a considerable effort, a certain scramble30 and flourish when they land, showing there are very few inches to spare.
The ill-fated Major has no idea of refusing. His horse however, thinks differently; so they compromise the matter by sliding in together, and climbing out separately, draggled, disgusted, and bemired.
“There is no mistake about it,” thinks Mr. Sawyer; “I must jump or else go home!” He may take a liberty, he hopes, with a friend; so he puts the roan’s head close behind the Honourable Crasher, and devoutly32 trusting that gentleman will get over, drives Hotspur resolutely33 at the brook34.
Topsy-Turvy, wild with excitement, throws her head in the air, and takes off a stride too soon. Consequently she drops her hind31 legs, and rolls into the opposite field. The roan, who jumps as far as ever he can, lands on Crasher’s reins35, of which the latter never lets go, and drives them into the turf.
“Line, sir! line!” expostulates the Honourable, not knowing who it is. “Oh! it’s you, is it?” he adds, picking himself up, and re-mounting. “All right! Go along, old fellow! The hounds are running like smoke!”
Mr. Sawyer apologises freely as they gallop on. In his heart he thinks Crasher the best fellow he ever met, and contrasts his behaviour with that of Sir Samuel Stuffy36 in the Old Country, on whom he once played the same trick, and whose language in return was more Pagan than Parliamentary.
The master and Struggles get over also, the latter not without a scramble. Those who are not in the first flight wisely diverge37 towards a bridge. For five minutes and more there are but half-a-dozen men with the hounds. These run harder than ever for another mile, then throw their heads up, and come to an untoward38 check.
“What a pity!” exclaims Mr. Sawyer. Not that he thinks so exactly, for Hotspur wants a puff39 of wind sadly.
“Turned by them sheep!” says Charles, and casts his hounds rapidly forward and down wind. No; he has not been turned by the sheep: he has been coursed by a dog. Charles wishes every dog in the country was with Cerberus, except the nineteen couple now at fault.
“Pliant40 has it,” observes the master, as Pliant, feathering down the side of a hedge, makes sure she is right, and then flings a note or two off her silvery tongue, to apprise41 her gossips of the fact. They corroborate42 her forthwith, and the chorus of female voices could scarce be outdone at a christening. Nevertheless, they are brought to hunting now, and must feel for it every yard they go.
But this interval43 has allowed some twenty equestrians44, amongst whom a graceful45 form in a habit is not the least conspicuous46, to form the chase once more. Great is the talking and self-gratulations. Watches are even pulled out, and perspiring47 arrivals announce the result of their observations, each man timing48 the burst to the moment at which he himself came up.
“How well your horse carried you!” said a soft voice at Mr. Sawyer’s elbow; “didn’t he, Papa?” added the siren, appealing to the Reverend Dove, who was eagerly watching the hounds. “We all agreed that the velvet50 cap had the best of it.”
She wanted to make amends51 to him for her rudeness in the morning, and this was the opportunity to choose. The hardest male heart is sufficiently52 malleable53 under the combined influence of heat, haste, and excitement, though how this girl should have made the discovery it is beyond my ingenuity54 to guess. How do they discover a thousand things, of which we believe them to be ignorant?
Mr. Sawyer smiled his gratitude55, as he opened a gate for the lady, and very nearly let it swing back against her knees. He had not acquired sufficient practice yet at his gates, that’s the truth; and perhaps there were other portals wherein his inexperience had better have forbidden him to venture. Miss Dove was fast luring56 him into a country which, to use a hunting metaphor57, was very cramped58 and blind, full of “doubles,” “squire-traps,” and other pit-falls for the unwary.
Hounds are apt to be a little unsettled after so rapid a burst as I have attempted to describe, and it takes a few fields of persevering59 attention to steady them again. After this, however, I think we may have remarked they made but few mistakes, and a fox well rattled60, up to the first check, huntsmen tell us, is as good as half killed.
The description of a run is tedious to all but the narrator. What good wine a man should give his guests, who indulges in minute details of every event that happened!—how they entered this spinny, and skirted that wood, and crossed the common, and finally killed or lost, or ran to ground, or otherwise put an end to the proceedings61 of which the reality is so engrossing62 and the account so tedious. I have seen young men, longing63 to join the ladies, or pining for their cigars, forced to sit smothering64 their yawns as they pretended to take an interest in the hounds and the huntsman, and the country, and their host’s own doings, and that eternal black mare. I can stand it well enough myself, with a fair allowance of ’41 or ’44, by abstracting my attention completely from the narrative65, and wandering in the realms of fancy, cheered by the blushing fluid. But every one may not enjoy this faculty66, and you cannot, in common decency67, go fast asleep in your Amphitryon’s face. Again, I say, nothing but good wine will wash the infliction68 down. Let him, then, whose port is new, or whose claret unsound, beware how he thus trespasses69 on the forbearance of his guests.
Of course they killed their fox. After the first check they gradually took to hunting, and so to running once more, Mr. Sawyer distinguishing himself by describing a very perfect semicircle with Hotspur, over some rails near Stanford Hall. The roan was tired, and his rider ambitious, so a downfall was the inevitable70 result. Nevertheless, he fell honourably71 enough, and hoped no one but himself knew how completely the accident was occasioned by utter exhaustion72 on the part of his steed.
There is no secret so close as that between a horse and his rider. Up to the first check, Hotspur had realised his owner’s fondest anticipations73. “He’s fit for a king!” ejaculated the delighted Sawyer, when they flew so gallantly74 over the brook. Even after the hounds had run steadily75 on for the best part of an hour, the animal’s character had only sunk to “not thoroughly fit to go;” but when they arrived at the Hemplow Hills, and the pack, still holding a fair hunting pace, breasted that choking ascent76, he could not disguise from himself that the roan was about “told out.” They are indeed no joke, those well-known Hemplow Hills, when they present themselves to astonished steeds and ardent77 riders after fifty minutes over the strongest part of Northamptonshire. A sufficiently picturesque78 object to the admirer of nature, they prove an unwelcome obstacle to the follower79 of the chase, and it was no disgrace to poor Hotspur that, although he struggled gamely to the top, he was reduced to a very feeble and abortive80 attempt at a trot when he reached the flat ground on the summit. Ere long this degenerated81 to a walk; and I leave it to my reader, if a sportsman, to imagine with what feelings of relief Mr. Sawyer observed the now distant pack turning short back. The fox was evidently hard pressed, and dodging82 for his life.
The Rev49. Dove, with an exceedingly red face, a broken stirrup-leather, and a dirty coat, viewed him crawling slowly down the side of a hedgerow. In an instant his hat was in the air, and Charles, surrounded by his hounds, was galloping83 to the point indicated. Two sharp turns with the fox in sight—a great enthusiasm and hurry amongst those sportsmen who were fortunate enough to be present, and who rode, one and all, considerably84 faster than their horses could go—a confused mass of hounds rolling over each other in the corner of a field—Charles off his horse, and amongst them, with a loud “Who-whoop”—and the run is concluded, to the satisfaction of all lookers-on, and the irremediable disgust of the many equestrians who started “burning with high hope,” and are now struggling and stopping over the adjoining parish, in different stages of exhaustion. The Honourable Crasher congratulates Mr. Sawyer on his success; also takes this opportunity of introducing his friend to the M.F.H. A few courteous85 sentences are interchanged; Messrs. Savage, Struggles, and Brush propose a return to Harborough; cigars are offered and lit; everybody seems pleased and excited. John Standish Sawyer has attained86 the object for which he left home—he has seen a good run, made a number of pleasant acquaintances, launched once more into that gay world, which he now thinks he abandoned too soon. He ought to be delighted with his success: but, alas87 for human triumphs!
“Ay! even in the fount of joy,
Some bitter drops the draught88 alloy,”
and our friend, with many feigned89 excuses, and a dejected expression of countenance90, lingers behind his companions, and plods91 his way homewards alone.
点击收听单词发音
1 panorama | |
n.全景,全景画,全景摄影,全景照片[装置] | |
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2 trot | |
n.疾走,慢跑;n.老太婆;现成译本;(复数)trots:腹泻(与the 连用);v.小跑,快步走,赶紧 | |
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3 gallop | |
v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔;飞速发展 | |
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4 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
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5 honourable | |
adj.可敬的;荣誉的,光荣的 | |
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6 mare | |
n.母马,母驴 | |
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7 mar | |
vt.破坏,毁坏,弄糟 | |
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8 amiable | |
adj.和蔼可亲的,友善的,亲切的 | |
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9 enjoyment | |
n.乐趣;享有;享用 | |
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10 apprehensions | |
疑惧 | |
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11 imbibed | |
v.吸收( imbibe的过去式和过去分词 );喝;吸取;吸气 | |
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12 qualified | |
adj.合格的,有资格的,胜任的,有限制的 | |
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13 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
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14 enthusiast | |
n.热心人,热衷者 | |
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15 savage | |
adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
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16 ornament | |
v.装饰,美化;n.装饰,装饰物 | |
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17 admiration | |
n.钦佩,赞美,羡慕 | |
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18 scattered | |
adj.分散的,稀疏的;散步的;疏疏落落的 | |
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19 serried | |
adj.拥挤的;密集的 | |
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20 scarlet | |
n.深红色,绯红色,红衣;adj.绯红色的 | |
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21 scent | |
n.气味,香味,香水,线索,嗅觉;v.嗅,发觉 | |
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22 momentary | |
adj.片刻的,瞬息的;短暂的 | |
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23 hesitation | |
n.犹豫,踌躇 | |
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24 lengthen | |
vt.使伸长,延长 | |
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25 scour | |
v.搜索;擦,洗,腹泻,冲刷 | |
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26 interspersed | |
adj.[医]散开的;点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
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27 willow | |
n.柳树 | |
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28 Ford | |
n.浅滩,水浅可涉处;v.涉水,涉过 | |
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29 catching | |
adj.易传染的,有魅力的,迷人的,接住 | |
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30 scramble | |
v.爬行,攀爬,杂乱蔓延,碎片,片段,废料 | |
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31 hind | |
adj.后面的,后部的 | |
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32 devoutly | |
adv.虔诚地,虔敬地,衷心地 | |
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33 resolutely | |
adj.坚决地,果断地 | |
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34 brook | |
n.小河,溪;v.忍受,容让 | |
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35 reins | |
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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36 stuffy | |
adj.不透气的,闷热的 | |
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37 diverge | |
v.分叉,分歧,离题,使...岔开,使转向 | |
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38 untoward | |
adj.不利的,不幸的,困难重重的 | |
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39 puff | |
n.一口(气);一阵(风);v.喷气,喘气 | |
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40 pliant | |
adj.顺从的;可弯曲的 | |
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41 apprise | |
vt.通知,告知 | |
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42 corroborate | |
v.支持,证实,确定 | |
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43 interval | |
n.间隔,间距;幕间休息,中场休息 | |
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44 equestrians | |
n.骑手(equestrian的复数形式) | |
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45 graceful | |
adj.优美的,优雅的;得体的 | |
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46 conspicuous | |
adj.明眼的,惹人注目的;炫耀的,摆阔气的 | |
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47 perspiring | |
v.出汗,流汗( perspire的现在分词 ) | |
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48 timing | |
n.时间安排,时间选择 | |
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49 rev | |
v.发动机旋转,加快速度 | |
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50 velvet | |
n.丝绒,天鹅绒;adj.丝绒制的,柔软的 | |
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51 amends | |
n. 赔偿 | |
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52 sufficiently | |
adv.足够地,充分地 | |
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53 malleable | |
adj.(金属)可锻的;有延展性的;(性格)可训练的 | |
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54 ingenuity | |
n.别出心裁;善于发明创造 | |
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55 gratitude | |
adj.感激,感谢 | |
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56 luring | |
吸引,引诱(lure的现在分词形式) | |
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57 metaphor | |
n.隐喻,暗喻 | |
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58 cramped | |
a.狭窄的 | |
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59 persevering | |
a.坚忍不拔的 | |
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60 rattled | |
慌乱的,恼火的 | |
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61 proceedings | |
n.进程,过程,议程;诉讼(程序);公报 | |
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62 engrossing | |
adj.使人全神贯注的,引人入胜的v.使全神贯注( engross的现在分词 ) | |
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63 longing | |
n.(for)渴望 | |
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64 smothering | |
(使)窒息, (使)透不过气( smother的现在分词 ); 覆盖; 忍住; 抑制 | |
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65 narrative | |
n.叙述,故事;adj.叙事的,故事体的 | |
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66 faculty | |
n.才能;学院,系;(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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67 decency | |
n.体面,得体,合宜,正派,庄重 | |
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68 infliction | |
n.(强加于人身的)痛苦,刑罚 | |
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69 trespasses | |
罪过( trespass的名词复数 ); 非法进入 | |
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70 inevitable | |
adj.不可避免的,必然发生的 | |
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71 honourably | |
adv.可尊敬地,光荣地,体面地 | |
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72 exhaustion | |
n.耗尽枯竭,疲惫,筋疲力尽,竭尽,详尽无遗的论述 | |
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73 anticipations | |
预期( anticipation的名词复数 ); 预测; (信托财产收益的)预支; 预期的事物 | |
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74 gallantly | |
adv. 漂亮地,勇敢地,献殷勤地 | |
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75 steadily | |
adv.稳定地;不变地;持续地 | |
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76 ascent | |
n.(声望或地位)提高;上升,升高;登高 | |
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77 ardent | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,强烈的,烈性的 | |
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78 picturesque | |
adj.美丽如画的,(语言)生动的,绘声绘色的 | |
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79 follower | |
n.跟随者;随员;门徒;信徒 | |
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80 abortive | |
adj.不成功的,发育不全的 | |
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81 degenerated | |
衰退,堕落,退化( degenerate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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82 dodging | |
n.避开,闪过,音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 );回避 | |
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83 galloping | |
adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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84 considerably | |
adv.极大地;相当大地;在很大程度上 | |
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85 courteous | |
adj.彬彬有礼的,客气的 | |
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86 attained | |
(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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87 alas | |
int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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88 draught | |
n.拉,牵引,拖;一网(饮,吸,阵);顿服药量,通风;v.起草,设计 | |
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89 feigned | |
a.假装的,不真诚的 | |
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90 countenance | |
n.脸色,面容;面部表情;vt.支持,赞同 | |
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91 plods | |
v.沉重缓慢地走(路)( plod的第三人称单数 );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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