"DETAIL for guard to-morrow," sang out the Orderly-Sergeant1, after he had finished the evening roll-call: "Bailey, Belcher, Doolittle, Elliott, Fracker, Gleason, Hendricks, Hummerson. Long, Mansur, Nolan, Thompson."
"Corp'l Klegg, you will act as Sergeant of the Guard.
"Dan Elliott will act as Corporal of the Guard." It is one of the peculiarities2 of men that the less they have to do the less they want to do. The boys of Co. Q were no different from the rest. When they were in active service a more lively, energetic crowd could not be found in the army. They would march from daybreak till midnight, and build roads, dig ditches, and chop trees on the way. They were ready and willing for any service, and none were louder than they in their condemnation3 when they thought that the officers did not order done what should be. But when lying around camp, with absolutely nothing to do but ordinary routine, they developed into the laziest mortals that breathed. To do a turn of guard duty was a heart-breaking affliction, and the Orderly-Sergeant's announcement of those who were detailed5 for the morrow brought forth6 a yell of protest from every man whose name was called.165
"I only come off guard day before yesterday," shouted Bailey.
"I'm sick, and can't walk a step," complained Belcher, who had walked 15 miles the day before, hunting "pies-an'-milk."
"That blamed Orderly's got a spite at me; he'd keep me on guard every day in the week," grumbled7 Doolittle.
"I was on fatigue8 dooty only yesterday," protested Fracker, who had to help carry the company rations9 from the Commissary's tent.
"I'm goin' to the Surgeon an' git an excuse," said Gleason, who had sprained10 his wrist a trifle in turning a handspring.
So it went through the whole list.
"I want to see every gun spick-and-span, every blouse brushed and buttoned, and every shoe neatly11 blacked, when I march you up to the Adjutant," said the Orderly, entirely12 oblivious13 to the howls. "If any of you don't, he'll have a spell of digging up roots on the parade. I won't have such a gang of scarecrows as I have had to march out the last few days. You fellows make a note of that, and govern yourselves accordingly."
"Right face—Break ranks—March!"
"Corp'l Klegg," said the Officer of the Day the next morning, as Si was preparing to relieve the old guard, "the Colonel is very much worked up over the amount of whisky that finds its way into camp. Now that we are out here by ourselves we certainly ought to be able to control this. Yet there was a disgusting number of drunken men in camp yesterday, and a lot of trouble that should not be. The Colonel has166 talked very strongly on this subject, and he expects us to-day to put a stop to this. I want you to make an extra effort to keep whisky out. I think you can do it if you try real hard."
"I'll do my best, sir," said Si, saluting14.
"Shorty," Si communed with his next in rank before they started on their rounds with the first relief, "we must see that there's no whisky brung into camp this day."
"You jest bet your sweet life there won't be, either," returned Shorty. He felt not a little elated over his brevet rank and the responsibilities of his position as Corporal of the Guard. "This here camp'll be as dry as the State o' Maine to-day."
It was a hot, dull day, with little to occupy the time of those off guard. As usual, Satan was finding "some mischief15 for idle hands to do."
After he put on the first relief, Si went back to the guard tent and busied himself awhile over the details of work to be found there. There were men under sentence of hard labor16 that he had to find employment for, digging roots, cleaning up the camp, chopping wood and making trenches17. He got the usual chin-music from those whom he set to enforced toil18, about the injustice19 of their sentences and "the airs that some folks put on when they wear a couple of stripes," but he took this composedly, and after awhile went the rounds to look over his guard-line, taking Shorty with him.
Everything seemed straight and soldierly, and they sat down by a cool spring in a little shady hollow.
"Did you ever notice, Shorty," said Si, speculatively20, as he looked over the tin cup of cool water he167 was sipping21, "how long and straight and string-like the cat-brier grows down here in this country? You see 25 or 30 feet of it at times no thicker'n wooltwine. Now, there's a piece layin' right over there, on t'other side o' the branch, more'n a rod long, and no thicker'n a rye straw."
"I see it, an' I never saw a piece o' cat-brier move endwise before," said Shorty, fixing his eyes on the string-like green.
"As sure's you're alive, it is movin'," said Si, starting to rise.
"Set still, keep quiet an' watch," admonished22 Shorty. "You'll find out more."
Si sat still and looked. The direction the brier was moving was toward the guard-line, some 100 feet away to the left. About the same distance to the right was a thicket24 of alders25, where Si thought he heard voices. There were indications in the weeds that the cat-brier extended to there.
The brier maintained its outward motion. Presently a clump26 of rags was seen carried along by it.
"They're sending out their money for whisky," whispered Shorty. "Keep quiet, and we'll confiscate27 the stuff when it comes in."
They saw the rag move straight toward the guardline, and pass under the log on which the sentry28 walked when he paced his beat across the branch. It finally disappeared in a bunch of willows29.
Presently a bigger rag came out from the willows, in response to the backward movement of the long cat-brier, and crawled slowly back under the log and into camp. As it came opposite Si jumped out, put his foot on the cat-brier and lifted up the rag. He168 found, as he had expected, that it wrapped up a pint30 flask31 of whisky.
"O, come off, Si; come off, Shorty!" appealed some of Co. Q from the alders. "drop that. You ain't goin' to be mean, boy's. You don't need to know nothin' about that, an' why go makin' yourselves fresh when there's no necessity? We want that awful bad, and we've paid good money for it."
"No, sir," said Shorty sternly, as he twisted the bottle off, and smashed it on the stones. "No whisky goes into this camp. I'm astonished at you. Whisky's a cuss. It's the bane of the army. It's the worm that never dies. Its feet lead down to hell. Who hath vain babblings? Who hath redness of eyes? The feller that drinks likker, and especially Tennessee rotgut."
"O, come off; stop that dinged preaching, Shorty," said one impatiently. "There's nobody in this camp that likes whisky better'n you do; there's nobody that'll go further to get it, an' there's nobody up to more tricks to beat the guard."
"What I do as a private soldier, Mr. Blakesley," said Shorty with dignity, "haint nothing to do with my conduct when I'm charged with responsible dooty. It's my dooty to stop the awful practice o' likker-drinkin' in this camp, an' I'm goin' to do it, no matter what the cost. You jest shet up that clam-shell o' your'n an' stop interfering32 with your officers."
Si and Shorty went outside the lines to the clump of willows, but they were not quick enough to catch Groundhog, the teamster, and the civilian34 whom our readers will remember as having his head shaved in the camp at Murfreesboro some weeks before. They169 found, however, a jug35 of new and particularly rasping apple-jack. There was just an instant of wavering in Shorty's firmness when he uncorked the jug and smelled its contents. He lifted it to his lips, to further confirm its character, and Si trembled, for he saw the longing36 in his partner's eyes. The latter's hand shook a little as the first few drops touched his tongue, but with the look of a hero he turned and smashed the jug on a stone.
"You're solid. Shorty," said Si.
"Yes, but it was an awful wrench37. Le's git away from the smell o' the stuff," answered Shorty. "I'm afraid it'll be too much for me yit."
"Corporal of the Guard, Post No. 1."
"Sergeant of the Guard, Post No. 1," came down the line of sentries38 as the two boys were sauntering back to camp.
"Somethin's happening over there at the gate," said Si, and they quickened their steps in the direction of the main entrance to the camp.
They found there a lank39, long-haired, ragged40 Tennesseean, with a tattered41 hat of white wool on his head. His scanty43 whiskers were weather-beaten, he had lost most of his front teeth, and as he talked he spattered everything around with tobacco-juice. He rode on a blind, raw-bone horse, which, with a dejected, broken-down mule44, was attached by ropes, fragments of straps45, withes, and pawpaw bark to a shackly wagon46.
In the latter were some strings47 of dried apples, a pile of crescents of dried pumpkins49, a sack of meal, a few hands of tobacco, and a jug of buttermilk.
"I want t' go inter33 the camps an' sell a leetle jag170 o' truck," the native explained, as he drenched50 the surrounding weeds with tobacco-juice. "My ole woman's powerful sick an' ailin', an' I need some money awfully51 t' git her some quinine. Yarbs don't seem t' do her no sort o' good. She must have some Yankee quinine, and she's nigh dead fer some Yankee coffee. This war's mouty hard on po' people. Hit's jest killin' 'em by inches, by takin' away their coffee an' quinine. I'm a union man, an' allers have bin52."
"You haint got any whisky in that wagon, have you?" asked Si.
"O, Lord, no! nary mite53. You don't think I'd try t' take whisky into camp, do you? I'm not sich a bad man as that. Besides, whar'd I git whisky? The war's broke up all the 'stilleries in the country. What the Confedrits didn't burn yo'uns did. I've bin sufferin' for months fur a dram o' whisky, an' as fur my ole woman, she's nearly died. That's the reason the yarbs don't do her no good. She can't get no whisky to soak 'em in."
"He's entirely too talkative about the wickedness o' bringin' whisky into camp," whispered Shorty. "He's bin there before. He's an old hand at the business."
"Sure you've got no whisky?" said Si.
"Sartin, gentlemen; sarch my wagon, if you don't take my word. I only wish I knowed whar thar wuz some whisky. I'd walk 20 miles in the rain t' git one little flask fur my ole woman and myself. I tell you, thar haint a drap t' be found in the hull54 Duck River Valley. 'Stilleries all burnt, I tell you." And in the earnestness of his protestations he sprayed his team,171 himself, and the neighboring weeds with liquid tobacco.
Si stepped back and carefully searched the wagon, opening the meal sack, uncorking the buttermilk jug, and turning over the dried apples, pumpkins and tobacco. There certainly was no whisky there.
Shorty stood leaning on his musket55 and looking at the man. He was pretty sure that the fellow had had previous experience in running whisky into camp, and was up to the tricks of the trade. Instead of a saddle the man had under him an old calico quilt, whose original gaudy56 colors were sadly dimmed by the sun, rain, and dirt. Shorty stepped forward and lifted one corner. His suspicions were right. It had an under pocket, in which was a flat, half-pint flask with a cob stopper, and filled with apple-jack so new that it was as colorless as water.
"I wuz jest bringin' that 'ere in fur you, Capting," said the Tennesseean, with a profound wink57 and an unabashed countenance58. "Stick hit in your pocket, quick. None o' the rest 's seed you."
Shorty flung the bottle down and ordered the man off his horse. The quilt was examined. It contained a half-dozen more flasks59, each holding a "half-pint of throat-scorch and at least two fights," as Shorty expressed it. A clumsy leather contrivance lay on the hames of the mule. Flasks were found underneath60 this, and the man himself was searched. More flasks were pulled out from the tail pockets of his ragged coat; from his breast; from the crown of his ragged hat.
"Well," said Shorty, as he got through, "you're a regler grogshop on wheels. All you need is a lot172 o' loafers talkin' politics, a few picturs o' racin' hosses and some customers buried in the village graveyard61 to be a first-class bar-room. Turn around and git back to that ole woman o' your'n, or we'll make you sicker'n she is."
Si and Shorty marched around with the second relief, and then sat down to talk over the events of the morning.
"I guess we've purty well settled the whisky business for to-day, at least," said Si. "The Colonel can't complain of us. I don't think we'll have any more trouble. Seems to me that there can't be no more whisky in this part o' Tennessee, from the quantity we've destroyed."
"Don't be too dinged sure o' that," said Shorty. "Whisky seems to brew62 as naturally in this country as the rosin to run out o' the pine trees. I never saw sich a country fur likker. They have more stills in Tennessee than blacksmith shops, and they work stiddier."
Si looked down the road and saw returning a wagon which had been sent out in the morning for forage63. It was well loaded, and the guards who were marching behind had a few chickens and other supplies that they had gathered up.
"Boys seem to be purty fresh, after their tramp," said he, with the first thought of a soldier looking at marching men. "They've all got their guns at carry arms. I noticed that as they came over the hill."
"Yes," answered Shorty, after a glance, "and they're holdin' 'em up very stiff an' straight. That gives mo an idee. Lo's go over there an' take a look at 'em."173
Shorty had sniffed64 at a trick that he had more than once played in getting the forbidden beverage65 past the lynx-eyed sentry.
"Don't you find it hard work to march at routstep with your guns at a carry?" he said insinuatingly66. "No need o' doin' that except on parade or drill. Right-shoulder-shift or arms-at-will is the thing when you're on the road."
"H-s-sh," said the leading file, with a profound wink and a sidelong glance at Si. "Keep quiet, Shorty," he added in a stage whisper. "We'll give you some. It's all right. We'll whack67 up fair."
"No, it ain't all right," said Shorty, with properly offended official dignity. "Don't you dare offer to bribe68 me, Buck69 Harper, when I'm on duty. Hand me that gun this minute."
Harper shamefacedly handed over the musket, still holding it carefully upright. Shorty at once reversed it and a stream of whisky ran out upon the thirsty soil.
Si grasped the situation, and disarmed70 the others with like result.
"I ought to put every one o' you in' the guardhouse for this. It's lucky that the Officer of the Guard wasn't here. He'd have done it. There he comes now. Skip out after the wagon, quick, before he gits on to you."
"What next?" sighed Si. "Is the whole world bent71 on bringin' whisky into this camp? Haint they got none for the others?"
"Sergeant of the Guard, Post No. 1," rang out upon the hot air. Si walked over again to the entrance, and saw seeking admission a tall, bony174 woman, wearing a dirty and limp sunbonnet and smoking a corn-cob pipe. She was mounted on a slab-sided horse, with ribs72 like a washboard, and carried a basket on her arm covered with a coarse cloth none too clean.
"Looks as if she'd bin picked before she was ripe and got awfully warped73 in the dryin'. All the same she's loaded with whisky," commented Shorty as the woman descended74 from her saddle and approached the sentry with an air of resolute75 demand.
"You haint got no right to stop me, young feller," she said. "I come in hyar every day an' bring pies. Your Jinerul said I could, an' he wanted me to. His men want my pies, an' they do 'em good. Hit's homecookin', an' takes the taste o' the nasty camp vittles out o' their mouths, an' makes 'em healthy. You jest raise yer gun, an' let me go right in, or I'll tell yer Jinerul, an' he'll make it warm fur yer. I've got a pass from him."
"Let me see your pass," said Si, stepping forward. The woman unhooked her linsey dress, fumbled76 around in the recesses77, and finally produced a soiled and crumpled78 paper, which, when straightened out, read:
"Mrs. Sarah Bolster79 has permission to pass in and out of the
camp of the 200th Indiana Volunteer Infantry80.
"By order of Col. Quackenbush.
"D. L. Blakemore, Lieut. & Adj't."
"What've you got in that basket?" asked Si, still hesitating.
"Pies," she answered confidently. "The best pies you ever seed. Some of 'em pumpkin48; but the rest175 of 'em dried apple, with lots o' 'lasses in fur sweetenin'. Your mother never baked better pies 'n 'em."
"To my mind," muttered Shorty, as he stepped forward to investigate the basket, "she's the kind o' a woman I'd like to have bake pies for a gang o' State's prison birds that I wanted to kill off without the trouble o' hangin'. Say, ma'am, are your pies pegged81 or sewed? What'd you use for shortenen'—injy rubber or Aunt Jemimy's plaster?" he continued as he turned back the cloth and surveyed the well-known specimens82 of mountain baking which were as harmful to Uncle Sam's boys as the bullets of their enemies.
"Young feller, none o' yer sass," she said severely83. "Them's better pies than ye're used ter. Folks that's never had nothin' air allers the most partickeler, an' turnin' up thar noses at rayly good things. Don't fool with me no more, but let me go on inter camp, fur the soljers air expectin' me."
"Sure you haint got no whisky down in the bottom o' that basket?" said Si, pushing the pies about a little, to get a better look.
The indignation of the woman at this insinuation was stunning84. She took her pipe out of her mouth to better express her contempt for men who would insult a Southern lady by such a hint—one, too, that had been of so much benefit to the soldiers by toiling85 over the hot oven to prepare for them food more acceptable than the coarse rations their stingy Government furnished them. She had never been so insulted in her life, and she would bring down on them dire23 punishment from the Colonel.
Several experiences with the tongue-lashings of176 Southern viragoes86 had made Si and Shorty less impressed by them than they had been earlier in their service. Still, they had the healthy young man's awe87 of anything that wore skirts, and the tirade88 produced its effect, but not strong enough to eradicate89 the belief that she was a whisky-bringer. While she stormed Si kept his eyes fixed90 upon the scant42 linsey dress which draped her tall form. Presently he said to Shorty:
"What do you think? Shall we let her go in?" Shorty whispered back with great deliberation: "Si, what I know about the female form don't amount to shucks. Least of all the Tennessee female form. But I've been lookin' that 'ere woman over carefully while she's been jawin', an' while she's naturally covered with knots and knobs in places where it seems to me that women generally don't have 'em, I can't help believin' that she's got some knots and knobs that naturally don't belong to her. In other words, she's got a whole lot o' flasks of whisky under her skirts."
"Jest what I've been suspicionin'," said Si. "I've heard that that's the way lots o' whisky is brung into camp. Shorty, as Corporal o' the Guard, it's your duty to search her."
"What!" yelled Shorty, horror-struck at the immodest thought. "Si Klegg, are you gone plum crazy?"
"Shorty," said Si firmly, "it's got to be done. She's got a pass, and the right to go into camp. We're both o' the opinion that she's carryin' in whisky. If she was a man there'd be no doubt that she'd have to be searched. I don't understand that the law177 knows any difference in persons. No matter what you may think about it, it is your duty, as Corporal o' the Guard, to make the search."
"No, sir-ree," insisted Shorty. "You're Sergeant o' the Guard, and it's your dooty to make all searches."
"Shorty," expostulated Si, "I'm much younger and modester'n you are, an' haint seen nearly so much o' the world. You ought to do this. Besides, you're under my orders, as Actin' Corporal. I order you to make the search."
"Si Klegg," said Shorty firmly, "I'll see you and all the Corporals and Sergeants91 betwixt here and Washington in the middle o' next week before I'll do it. You may buck-and-gag me, and tie me up by the thumbs, and then I won't. I resign my position as Corporal right here, and'll take by gun and go on post."
"What in the world are we goin' to do?" said Si desperately92. "If we let her in, she'll fill the camp full o' whisky, and she'll have to go in, unless we kin4 show some reason for keepin' her out. Hold on; I've got an idee."
He went up to the woman and said:
"You say you want to go into camp to sell your pies?"
"Yes, sir, an' I want to go in right off—no more foolin' around," she answered tartly93.
"How many pies've you got?"
She went through a laborious94 counting, and finally announced: "Eight altogether."
"How much are they worth?"
"Fifty cents apiece."178
"Very good," announced Si taking some money from his pocket. "That comes to $4. I'll take the lot and treat the boys. Here's your money. Now you've got no more business in camp, jest turn around and mosey for home. You've made a good day's business, and ought to be satisfied."
The woman scowled95 with disappointment. But she wisely concluded that she h'd better be content with the compromise, remounted her horse and disappeared down the road.
"That was a sneak96 out of a difficulty," Si confessed to Shorty; "but you were as big a coward as I was."
"No, I wasn't," insisted Shorty, still watchful97. "You'd no right to order me do something that you was afraid to do yourself. That's no kind o' officering."
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sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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peculiarities
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| n. 特质, 特性, 怪癖, 古怪 | |
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condemnation
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| n.谴责; 定罪 | |
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kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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detailed
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| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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rations
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| 定量( ration的名词复数 )； 配给量； 正常量； 合理的量 | |
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sprained
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| v.&n. 扭伤 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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saluting
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的现在分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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trenches
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| 深沟，地沟( trench的名词复数 )； 战壕 | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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speculatively
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sipping
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admonished
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| v.劝告( admonish的过去式和过去分词 )；训诫；（温和地）责备；轻责 | |
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dire
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| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
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thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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alders
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clump
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confiscate
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sentry
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willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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pint
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flask
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interfering
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inter
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civilian
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jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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longing
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wrench
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sentries
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| 哨兵，步兵( sentry的名词复数 ) | |
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39
lank
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| adj.瘦削的；稀疏的 | |
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40
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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41
tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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42
scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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43
scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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mule
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| n.骡子，杂种，执拗的人 | |
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45
straps
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| n.带子( strap的名词复数 )；挎带；肩带；背带v.用皮带捆扎( strap的第三人称单数 )；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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strings
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| n.弦 | |
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48
pumpkin
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| n.南瓜 | |
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pumpkins
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| n.南瓜( pumpkin的名词复数 )；南瓜的果肉，南瓜囊 | |
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50
drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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52
bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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mite
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| n.极小的东西；小铜币 | |
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hull
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| n.船身；(果、实等的)外壳；vt.去(谷物等)壳 | |
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musket
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| n.滑膛枪 | |
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gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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flasks
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| n.瓶，长颈瓶， 烧瓶( flask的名词复数 ) | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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graveyard
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| n.坟场 | |
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brew
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| v.酿造，调制 | |
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forage
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| n.(牛马的)饲料，粮草；v.搜寻，翻寻 | |
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sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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beverage
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| n.(水，酒等之外的)饮料 | |
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insinuatingly
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whack
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| v.敲击，重打，瓜分；n.重击，重打，尝试，一份 | |
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bribe
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| n.贿赂；v.向…行贿，买通 | |
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buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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disarmed
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| v.裁军( disarm的过去式和过去分词 )；使息怒 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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warped
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| adj.反常的；乖戾的；（变）弯曲的；变形的v.弄弯，变歪( warp的过去式和过去分词 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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bolster
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| n.枕垫；v.支持，鼓励 | |
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infantry
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| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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81
pegged
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| v.用夹子或钉子固定( peg的过去式和过去分词 )；使固定在某水平 | |
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specimens
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| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
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severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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84
stunning
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| adj.极好的；使人晕倒的 | |
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85
toiling
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的现在分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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viragoes
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| n.泼妇( virago的名词复数 ) | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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88
tirade
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| n.冗长的攻击性演说 | |
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eradicate
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| v.根除，消灭，杜绝 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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sergeants
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| 警官( sergeant的名词复数 )； （美国警察）警佐； （英国警察）巡佐； 陆军（或空军）中士 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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tartly
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| adv.辛辣地，刻薄地 | |
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94
laborious
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| adj.吃力的，努力的，不流畅 | |
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95
scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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