He had ridden The Dandy very leisurely9 to covert10, in consideration of the animal’s services before dawn, and had sent on the grey with an occasional helper from the inn, under the superintendence of The Boy, who was perched on Marathon: old Isaac, who wanted to buy some hay cheap, having given himself leave of absence for the day. The helper, with many injunctions to go steadily11, was entrusted12 with the homeward-bound hack13; and The Boy shifted to the second horse, whilst Mr. Sawyer himself bestrode the redoubtable14 bay. All these arrangements, with the accompanying pulling up of curb15-chains and letting down of stirrup-leathers, took some little time. Before our friend was fairly mounted and under way, the hounds had gone on to draw, and he found himself nearly the last of the lengthening16 cavalcade17. Under existing circumstances this was no great disadvantage, and the quieter he kept the bay, he thought, the better was his chance of selling him; yet he could not help wishing old Isaac had left the whole business alone. He might then have been forward with the hounds, looking out for a start on whichever horse he liked best, uninfluenced—as a man always should be, really to enjoy fox-hunting—by the sordid18 considerations of ￡. s. d.
Marathon was very fresh, and set his back up, squeaking19 in a most undignified manner, and swishing his heavy tail, till it reached his rider’s hat.
A horse galloping20 up from behind set him plunging23 with a violence that was scarcely pleasant, even to so practised a rider as our friend. He returned the greeting of the new comer—no less a personage than the Honourable24 Crasher, late as usual, and cantering to the front on Boadicea by Bellerophon out of Blue Light—with a preoccupied25 air of a man who expects every moment to be on his back.
The Honourable, slightly amused, pulled up alongside. “Halloa, Sawyer,” said he, “you’ll be hard to beat to-day: the steeple-chaser seems uncommon26 full of running.”
“It’s only his play,” answered Mr. Sawyer, modestly; indulging Marathon, who was preparing for another kick, with a vicious jerk of the curb. “I can’t get my old groom27 to give him work enough, and he’s sent me a second horse out to-day.”
This was meant to imply that the kicker was too valuable an animal for a mere28 hunter, and the Honourable interpreted it accordingly. As he rode alongside, he scanned the bay’s points with the critical eye of a purchaser. A horse never looks so well as when he is trotting29 beside you on a strip of grass, excited by the presence of hounds. If backed by a good horseman, the veriest brute, under these circumstances, makes the most of his own appearance. Marathon going within himself, playing lightly with his bit, and bringing his hind22 legs under his girths at every step, was a very different horse from the same Marathon extended and labouring, in a sticky ploughed field. I have already said he possessed30 many qualities sufficiently31 taking to the eye. As the Honourable examined him from his muzzle32 to his hocks, he could not but acknowledge that the horse looked uncommonly33 like a galloper34. “If he can only jump,” thought Crasher, “and get pretty quick over his fences, he ought to be a rattler. I suppose I shall have to buy him.”
Meanwhile Mr. Sawyer, who, as he remarked of himself, “was not such a fool as he looked,” but on the contrary resembled those “still waters” which the German proverb says “run so deep,” conversed35 affably with his friend on a number of topics totally unconnected with horseflesh, or the pleasures of the hunting-field. For once in his life, he did not want to get a start, that’s the truth; and as his companion was one of those indolent, easy-going people whose fancy can be led astray without difficulty in any given direction, they were soon deep in a variety of subjects, originating no doubt with Mr. Sawyer, but to which, I am bound to say, he had never devoted36 much of his time or attention. They touched upon the last misadventure brought under the notice of Sir Cresswell Cresswell—discussed the agricultural prospects37 of the season, and on this theme it would be difficult to say which was most incapable38 of giving an opinion—argued on the importance of a movement for taking the duty off cigars, and lastly got involved in the interminable question of what use the Volunteers would be, in the event of an invasion, and whether or not they would be killed to a man, when their conversation was cut short by an obvious bustle39 and confusion about a mile ahead of them, denoting that a fox had not only been found, but gone away.
“Done to a turn!” exclaimed the Honourable, interrupting his own explanation of how he should handle skirmishers if he was a general officer, which, by the way, it was fortunate for the skirmishers he was not. “What a bore! We sha’n’t catch them in a week!” he added, turning Boadicea’s head at the fence, and starting her at score through a deep ploughed field. In a few strides he had forgotten skirmishers, and Marathon, and Mr. Sawyer, and everything in the world except that he had lost his start.
The latter, watching the line “fine by degrees and beautifully less” on the horizon, rather congratulated himself, that his chance was completely out, and that there was now no temptation for him either to exert his own energies, or draw upon the failing powers of Marathon in the pursuit of that which he felt could scarcely be called pleasure. He jogged along the lane accordingly, content enough, thinking what fun he would have on the grey, in the afternoon, with a second fox!
But a few of us can have hunted much without remarking a peculiarity40 connected with the chase, that occasions constant irritation41 and annoyance42 to its votaries43. Have you never observed, that if you lose your chance of getting away with hounds, whether from procrastination44, inattention, or the laudable objection entertained by a rational man to ride at a large fence, do what you will, you only succeed in increasing the distance between yourself and the object you wish to reach? In vain you “nick,” and “skirt,” and ride to points that you think likely to be affected45 by a fox running for his life; in vain you “harden your heart,” and sail away boldly over the line of gaps already established by your predecessors46; you are only tiring your horse, and risking your neck in a wild-goose chase. You diverge47 to a distant halloo, and find it raised by a boy scaring crows. You succeed by extraordinary exertions48 in reaching the group of scarlet49 coats and bobbing hats you have been following so long, and learn that they have been “thrown out” like yourself, and the further you go, the further you are left behind; till you hate yourself, as much as your horse hates you for not having judiciously51 joined the band of second-horse riders, and so jogged contentedly52 along in ease and safety, sure to come up with the first flight at last.
On the other hand, we will suppose that you have tired your best hunter early in the day, or he had fallen lame53 on that weak point where everybody said he would be lame when you bought him, or you have a hundred and fifty other reasons for wishing to sneak54 quietly home, out of the observation of your friends. Those plaguy hounds seem to follow you as if you were the Wild Huntsman himself, and you begin to appreciate the severity of the punishment inflicted55 on that wicked German Baron56. They draw coverts57 that lie on your homeward way. They find, and hunt with provoking persistency58 alongside the very lane up which you would fain jog in solitude59, crossing it more than once under your nose. There is sure to be a fair holding scent60, not good enough to enable them to run clear out of your neighbourhood and have done with it, yet sufficient to afford plenty of enjoyment61 to such as are with them; these have, nevertheless, leisure to observe your movements, and to wonder why you are not amongst them. They are all your own particular friends, and you know you will be called upon, next hunting morning, to answer the difficult question—“What became of you, after we left you in the road at So-and-so?” Diana seems to delight in the rule of contrary. Like the rest of her sex, she takes you up and persecutes62 you, when you don’t want her; and when you are most ardent63 and zealous64 in her pursuit, she rebuffs you and puts you down.
Nothing could be further from Mr. Sawyer’s wishes than to find himself, on the present occasion, in a conspicuous65 position with the Quorn hounds. Had he wanted to be singled out in front of all that talent and beauty, Marathon was certainly the last animal he would have chosen on which to make an appearance in such choice company; nevertheless, the force of circumstances is beyond the control even of men like Mr. Sawyer, and however averse66 he might be to “achieve greatness,” he found, most unwillingly67, “greatness thrust upon him.” For awhile he had lost sight of everybody, and was in the act of pulling out his cigar-case to enjoy one of his Laranagas in solitude and repose68, proposing to hang on the line, keeping a little down wind, and as soon as he should spy the second-horses, mount the grey, and send Marathon straight home. Crasher, he thought, would buy the horse without asking any more questions.
Scarcely, however, had he got his weed fairly under weigh, than the music of a pack of hounds broke suddenly on his ear from behind a high impervious69 bullfinch that sheltered one side of the grass-lane along which he was proceeding70 so leisurely. “Confound the brutes71!” said Sawyer to himself, “here they are again!” As he opened the gate through which the track led into a sixty-acre pasture, the whole pack swept under his horse’s nose, running with sufficient energy to denote what sportsmen call a holding scent; they carried a capital head, and were forcing their fox at a pace which kept him going, but was not good enough to come up with him.
It was just the sort of gallop21 that enables people who ride to hounds to look about them, and enjoy not only the sport, but the accompanying humours of the scene.
In these days, a real quick thing is such an affair of hurry, that the lucky few who are in it cannot spare a moment’s attention from anything but their horses’ ears.
Had he been riding a donkey, it was not in Mr. Sawyer’s nature to abstain72 from turning the animal’s head towards the hounds under such temptation; moreover, he distinguished73 amongst the first flight his Harborough companions, including the pale face of the Honourable Crasher, who by “bucketing” Boadicea most unmercifully, had got there somehow, and appeared quite satisfied with his situation. What could our friend do, but cut in, and go to work at once?
Marathon, excited by the turmoil74, was fain to set his back up once more. He found, however, that the kicking was now all the other way. Taking him in a grasp that would have lifted a ton, Mr. Sawyer drove his spurs into the half-bred brute, and set him going close to the hounds at the best pace he could command. For a short distance, and when held well together, Marathon could stride away in a very imposing75 form. The sensation of having a lead is, in itself, provocative76 of emulation77; behind our friend were four or five intimate companions, who were not likely to let him hear the last of any instance of “shirking” that should come under their notice. Close on their track were the flower of Leicestershire; and these again were succeeded, so to speak, by a whole army of camp-followers, “maddening in the rear.” Had the Styx been in front of him, he must have charged it “in or over.”
Instead of the waters of Acheron, however, there was nothing more formidable in his line than a straggling, overgrown bullfinch at the far end of the field; just such a fence, indeed, as Marathon was in the habit of declining, but yet which he hoped the turmoil behind, the general excitement, and the persuasive78 powers of his own spurs, would enable him to induce his horse to face. He had plenty of time to scan it as he approached. Half-a-mile or so of ridge-and-furrow, even at a hunter’s best pace, gives leisure for consideration. Ere the hounds had strung through it in single file, he was aware of a wide ditch to him; on the farther side was obviously a grass-field, and an uncertainty79!
Marking with his eye the weakest place, through which, nevertheless, he could not see daylight, Mr. Sawyer, crammed80 his hat on his head, and set his horse resolutely81 at the fence; Marathon, according to custom, when he expected anything out of the common, shutting up every stride he went. Had it not been rather downhill, even his master’s consummate82 horsemanship would have failed to bring him close to it. The fall of the ground, however, and the pace he was going, forbade the bay to stop. Crash! he plunged83 into the very middle of the fence—broke through it from sheer velocity84, to jerk both knees against a strong oak rail beyond—blundered on to his nose over that—slid half-a-dozen yards on his head—nearly recovered himself—stumbled once more, and finally got up again, with his curb-rein turned over his ears; the rider’s feet out of both stirrups, hat off, a contusion on his left eyebrow85, and the horse’s nostrils86 fall of mud, but no fall!
“By the powers, that’s a rum one!” said Mr. Sawyer, as he cantered slowly up the opposite slope, repairing damages the while, and turned round to see the first flight charge the obstacle, which had so nearly disposed of his own chance.
“Four loose horses galloping wildly away.”
Lusty as eagles, ravenous87 as wolves, jealous as girls, down came the four gluttons88 at the fence, each man having chosen his own place, and scorning to deviate89 one hair’s breadth from his line. None, however, had made so judicious50 a selection as Mr. Sawyer. The rail, which had so nearly discomfited90 the latter, would neither bend nor break, but he had the luck of getting it where it was lowest and nearest to the fence; everywhere else it was not only high, but stood out a horse’s length into the field, just the place which must catch the cleverest hunter in the world, if ridden to do it all in its stride.
The scene that met Mr. Sawyer’s eyes was amusing, though alarming. Four imperial crowners at one and the same instant—four loose horses galloping wildly away—four red-coats rising simultaneously91 from Mother Earth—eight top-booted legs shuffling92 in ludicrous haste after the departing steeds. Had our friend been Briareus himself, he could not have caught all their horses. He was a man, however, who seldom lost an opportunity, and was not likely to miss such a chance as the present. Selecting Boadicea, he galloped93 after her, and succeeded in pinning her against a pound: notwithstanding that the mare94 lashed95 out at him more than once, he brought her back in triumph to her panting owner.
Meanwhile, the four dismounted sportsmen condoled96 breathlessly with each other, as they laboured up the grassy97 slope.
“I’m but a poor hand at this game,” observed Struggles, who did not fancy carrying his own weight across country.
“I wish I’d gone faster at it,” said Savage98, who had been grinding his teeth and hardening his heart the whole way up the field.
“My chestnut99 mare would have jumped it!” exclaimed Major Brush, inwardly registering a vow100 to abstain from “oxers” for the future; whilst the Honourable, though he held his tongue, was thinking what a capital horse that was of Sawyer’s, and dismally101 reflecting that if Boadicea hadn’t kicked at him when he was down, he never would have been such a tailor as to let her go.
“Catch hold!” said Mr. Sawyer, throwing the mare’s reins102 to her owner, whose gratitude103 he thereby104 earned for the rest of his life. “There’s no hurry,” he added, as the Honourable, in a coat plastered with mud and a hat stove in, dived wildly at his stirrup; “they’ve over-run it a mile back, and checked in the next field.”
The latter part of the sentence was true enough. His quick eye had shown him the pack at fault, as he secured Boadicea in the corner where the pound stood; the former was a bit of what theatrical105 people call “gag.” It was as much as to say, “Whilst you fellows are hustling106 and spurting107, and tumbling about, I am so well mounted that I can observe matters as coolly as if I was hunting in a balloon.”
It was not without its effect on his listener. As they rode through the hand-gate together into the enclosure where the hounds were at fault, the Honourable Crasher no longer scanned Marathon with the eye of a purchaser. He looked on the horse now as his own property. He was determined108 to have him.
By some mysterious law of nature, whenever one individual succeeds either in what is termed pounding a field, or in getting such a start of them that nobody shall have a chance of catching109 him whilst the pace holds—and this, be it observed, is no everyday occurrence in countries where the best riders in England congregate110 for the express purpose of riding as well as they can—it invariably happens that the immediate111 failure of scent, or some such untoward112 contingency113, robs the lucky one of his anticipated triumph. On the present occasion, much to Mr. Sawyer’s delight, they never hit off their fox again. By degrees, the tail of the field straggled up, having found their way by every available gate and gap; then came the second-horses, carefully ridden, cool, and comparatively clean, not having turned a hair; lastly, arrived a man in a gig, by a convenient bridle-road, hotter than any one present, wiping his face on a coloured handkerchief, which he afterwards put in the crown of his hat.
Whilst sandwiches were being munched114, and silver horns drained of their contents, ginger-cordial, orange-brandy, V.O.P.,[1] and other enticing115 fluids, Mr. Sawyer was giving The Boy stringent116 orders about taking Marathon home. He could not feel thoroughly117 comfortable till that impostor was fairly out of sight, and he should find himself established on the unassuming little grey.
1. Very Old Pale—a tempting118 label attached to certain black bottles containing the best French brandy; an excellent liquor, doubtless, and wholesome119, provided you don’t drink too much of it. Opinions vary, however, as to what is too much. The modest quencher120 of 9 P.M. growing to a superfluous121 stimulant122 at the same hour the following morning.
When he had made up his mind, the Honourable Crasher was a man of few words. Refreshed by a mouthful of sherry, not unacceptable after a rattling123 fall, and comfortably perched on the back of Confidence, a delightful124 animal that a child could ride, and perhaps the best and safest hunter in his stable, he ranged alongside of our friend, and plunged at once in medias res.
“So you want to sell the bay horse you have just sent home?” said he, with none of the hesitation125 and beating about the bush to which Mr. Sawyer had hitherto been accustomed in his horse-dealing operations. “If you do, and will name the price you ask for him, I should like to buy him.”
The owner could not resist the impulse of enhancing the value of his horse, by affecting unwillingness126 to sell him and, in so doing, nearly lost the chance of disposing of him, altogether.
“I don’t think I ought to part with him,” said he reflectively; “it strikes me he’s about the best in my stable.”
Crasher fell back apparently127 satisfied. It was evident he did not attach so much importance to the act of “exchange or barter” as did our friend. Mr. Sawyer picked himself up without loss of time. “I shouldn’t like to sell him to everybody,” said he affectionately, “but if you fancy him very much, I wouldn’t mind letting you have him,” he added, after a pause, and in the tone of a man who makes a painful sacrifice in the cause of friendship.
“I’ll give you two hundred and fifty for him,” drawled out the Honourable, with apparently about as much interest as he would have felt in paying three-and-sixpence for a pair of gloves.
“Guineas!” stipulated128 Mr. Sawyer; “Guineas,” was the answer; and in this simple manner the deal was concluded.
My readers will agree with Isaac and his master, in thinking that Marathon was not the only one of the party who was pretty well sold. The old groom laughed in his sleeve a week afterwards, when he heard that on giving him “a spin” with Chance, just to keep his pipes clear, the mare went away from him as if he was standing5 still.
Mr. Tiptop couldn’t make it out at all.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
noted
|
|
| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
beholder
|
|
| n.观看者，旁观者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
retinue
|
|
| n.侍从；随员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
killing
|
|
| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
destined
|
|
| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
conceit
|
|
| n.自负，自高自大 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
brute
|
|
| n.野兽，兽性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
leisurely
|
|
| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
covert
|
|
| adj.隐藏的；暗地里的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
steadily
|
|
| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
entrusted
|
|
| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
hack
|
|
| n.劈，砍，出租马车；v.劈，砍，干咳 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
redoubtable
|
|
| adj.可敬的；可怕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
curb
|
|
| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
lengthening
|
|
| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的现在分词 )； 加长 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
cavalcade
|
|
| n.车队等的行列 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
sordid
|
|
| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
squeaking
|
|
| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的现在分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
galloping
|
|
| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
gallop
|
|
| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
hind
|
|
| adj.后面的，后部的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
plunging
|
|
| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
honourable
|
|
| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
preoccupied
|
|
| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
uncommon
|
|
| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
groom
|
|
| vt.给（马、狗等）梳毛，照料，使...整洁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
trotting
|
|
| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
muzzle
|
|
| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
uncommonly
|
|
| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
galloper
|
|
| 骑马奔驰的人，飞驰的马，旋转木马； 轻野炮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
35
conversed
|
|
| v.交谈，谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
devoted
|
|
| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
prospects
|
|
| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
incapable
|
|
| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
bustle
|
|
| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
peculiarity
|
|
| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
irritation
|
|
| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
annoyance
|
|
| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
votaries
|
|
| n.信徒( votary的名词复数 )；追随者；（天主教）修士；修女 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
44
procrastination
|
|
| n.拖延，耽搁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
affected
|
|
| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
predecessors
|
|
| n.前任( predecessor的名词复数 )；前辈；（被取代的）原有事物；前身 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
diverge
|
|
| v.分叉，分歧，离题，使...岔开，使转向 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
exertions
|
|
| n.努力( exertion的名词复数 )；费力；（能力、权力等的）运用；行使 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
scarlet
|
|
| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
judicious
|
|
| adj.明智的，明断的，能作出明智决定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
judiciously
|
|
| adv.明断地，明智而审慎地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
contentedly
|
|
| adv.心满意足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
lame
|
|
| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
sneak
|
|
| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
inflicted
|
|
| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
baron
|
|
| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
coverts
|
|
| n.隐蔽的，不公开的，秘密的( covert的名词复数 )；复羽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
persistency
|
|
| n. 坚持(余辉, 时间常数) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
solitude
|
|
| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
scent
|
|
| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
enjoyment
|
|
| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
persecutes
|
|
| （尤指宗教或政治信仰的）迫害(~sb. for sth.)( persecute的第三人称单数 )； 烦扰，困扰或骚扰某人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
63
ardent
|
|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
zealous
|
|
| adj.狂热的，热心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
conspicuous
|
|
| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
averse
|
|
| adj.厌恶的；反对的，不乐意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
unwillingly
|
|
| adv.不情愿地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
repose
|
|
| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
impervious
|
|
| adj.不能渗透的，不能穿过的，不易伤害的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
proceeding
|
|
| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
brutes
|
|
| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
abstain
|
|
| v.自制，戒绝，弃权，避免 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
turmoil
|
|
| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
imposing
|
|
| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
provocative
|
|
| adj.挑衅的，煽动的，刺激的，挑逗的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
emulation
|
|
| n.竞争；仿效 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
persuasive
|
|
| adj.有说服力的，能说得使人相信的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
uncertainty
|
|
| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
crammed
|
|
| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
resolutely
|
|
| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
consummate
|
|
| adj.完美的；v.成婚；使完美 [反]baffle | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
plunged
|
|
| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
velocity
|
|
| n.速度，速率 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
eyebrow
|
|
| n.眉毛，眉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
nostrils
|
|
| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
ravenous
|
|
| adj.极饿的，贪婪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
gluttons
|
|
| 贪食者( glutton的名词复数 )； 贪图者； 酷爱…的人； 狼獾 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
deviate
|
|
| v.(from)背离，偏离 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
discomfited
|
|
| v.使为难( discomfit的过去式和过去分词)；使狼狈；使挫折；挫败 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
simultaneously
|
|
| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
shuffling
|
|
| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
galloped
|
|
| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
mare
|
|
| n.母马，母驴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
lashed
|
|
| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
condoled
|
|
| v.表示同情，吊唁( condole的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
grassy
|
|
| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
savage
|
|
| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
chestnut
|
|
| n.栗树，栗子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
vow
|
|
| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
dismally
|
|
| adv.阴暗地，沉闷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
gratitude
|
|
| adj.感激，感谢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
thereby
|
|
| adv.因此，从而 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
theatrical
|
|
| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
hustling
|
|
| 催促（hustle的现在分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
spurting
|
|
| （液体，火焰等）喷出，（使）涌出( spurt的现在分词 )； （短暂地）加速前进，冲刺； 溅射 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
catching
|
|
| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
congregate
|
|
| v.(使)集合，聚集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
untoward
|
|
| adj.不利的，不幸的，困难重重的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
contingency
|
|
| n.意外事件，可能性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
munched
|
|
| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
enticing
|
|
| adj.迷人的；诱人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
stringent
|
|
| adj.严厉的；令人信服的；银根紧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
tempting
|
|
| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
wholesome
|
|
| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
quencher
|
|
| 淬火，骤冷； 猝灭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
superfluous
|
|
| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
stimulant
|
|
| n.刺激物，兴奋剂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
rattling
|
|
| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
hesitation
|
|
| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
unwillingness
|
|
| n. 不愿意，不情愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
stipulated
|
|
| vt.& vi.规定；约定adj.[法]合同规定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |