The crossing of Conococheague, with its dismal2 history, proves particu?larly unsettling. Providentially, no ten minutes of Arc terminate upon either Bank,— that burn'd and bloodied4 little huddle5 of Cabins, can pro3?vide no Object of Pilgrimage, any Prospect6 of lingering as much as a Fortnight, among these Ghosts, and the Desolation in which they wait, would have sent the Expedition on to some Station less haunted,— extra Chaining and Calculating and all.
Lancaster as a scene of horror had been bearable because of the sec?ular Town upon ev'ry side, pursuing its Business, begging Attendance at ev'ry turn,— yet what in Lancaster was but an hour's Thrill, out here in this sternly exact Desert might become an uncontrollable descent into whatever the Visto was suppos'd to deny,— the covetousness7 of all that liv'd.. .that continued to press in at either side, wishing simply to breach8 the long rectified9 Absence wherever it might,— to insist upon itself.
Between two roads leading to different ferries across Potowmack, they calculate and change course, and at last, 117 miles, 12 chains, and 97 links west of the Post Mark'd West, they fetch up against the flank of the North Mountain, having enter'd the personal Zone of Influence of Capt. Evan Shelby. They pack the Instruments and leave them in his Care, for the Winter.
Not till they turn and head east again, do they find any time for rememb'ring anything. Going west has been all Futurity. Now, moving against the Sun, they may take up again the past.
Trudging10 one day into the wind, all hats impossible, hair in streams, struggling to keep the brass11 instrument on its tripod over one shoulder, Dixon at last saw the logic12 of Emerson's notorious back-to-front coat.
"Of course 'tis back-to front," Emerson had sigh'd, "Plutonians, give some Brain to it,— in all animals, isn't it the Ventral or Belly-side that needs most protection,— the Dorsal13 or Back-side being stronger and harder? And won't half the walking I'm to do in my Life, be into the Wind? Bonny. At such times, then, I'd rather be a few degrees above Freezing, thankee, and let me Back look after itself."
"Then why does ev'ryone else go about with Coats open in front?"
Emerson gazed upon the assembl'd young Scholars with a great pre?tense of mildness and forbearance. "My entire life as a Teacher, lesson after futile14 lesson, is time thus pitiably squander'd,— an old man's Folly15. Not that I ever was a Teacher, really, I'm a Man of Science, between patrons at the moment, only doing this so I can pay my laboratory expenses, tho' Mrs. Emerson takes a slightly different View...' 'Tis the Grub-Street of Philosophy!' she laments16. 'Durham Prison were better!' Howsobeit, the Question, mercifully, was not about Marriage— The Modern Coat, as we know it," he explain'd, "is bas'd upon the attire17 of the Nobility and Gentry18 and other assorted19 Thieves, who could ever afford Servants to put their clothes on for them. At such intimate moments, 'twas believ'd more prudent20 to keep a Servant in front of one, than allow him behind. For today's Discussion, therefore, speculate for me if yese will, what might have happen'd to the Structure of England, had ev'rything fasten'd in back, obliging Servants,— let us here include America, the Indies, and black Slaves as well,— to spend more time behind their Masters than before, and so close as to be invisible?"
Long before the Soldiers came in sight, People in their Path could hear the drums, upon fitfully directed Winds, clattering21 off the walls of old quarries22 where Weld flower'd in glows of orange, yellow, and green, rak?ing the hillside pastures all but empty, with the lambs just sold and the breeding ewes resting up for winter, their cull'd sisters off to auctions23 and fates less ritual, whilst the rams24 were soon to go up to spend winter
in the hills. Vast flights of starlings, fleeing the racket, beat across the sky at high speed, like Squall-clouds,— Evening at Noon-tide. In the lit?tle one-street villages, women stood among the laundry they'd just put out, looking at the Light, reckoning drying time and marching time, and Cloud-speed, and how wet ev'rything might be when they'd have to bring it in again. Soon the mercilessly even drumbeat fill'd the Day, replacing the accustom'd rhythms of country People with the controlling Pulse of military Clock-time, announcing that all events would now occur at the army's Pleasure, upon the army's schedule.
"Then they began with the Bagpipes25." For demonstrative purposes,
Wolfe from time to time in the easy march up to Stroud would order his
troopers to dismount, take up skirmish positions, and fire at whatever
took their Fancy. Later, in Pennsylvania, deep within the Glades26 of
Death, crossing the road upon which Braddock and his forces had met
their unhappy end, Mason would wonder if the effects of the late Tragedy
in America upon Army morale27 in general, and upon Wolfe in particular,
might not also have play'd their part in this idle Musketry, which left
splash'd behind them a path scarlet28 with hundreds of small innocent
lives wild and domestic,— far beneath the notice of a dragoon, of course,
but often of moment to local residents,— the Fowl29 running into the
Fields, no sleep for fear of ev'rything that might happen
"For all we know, Wolfe may have felt the same contempt for British Weavers30 as did Braddock for American Indians,— treacherous31 Natives, disrespectful, rebellious32, waiting in Ambuscado, behind ev'ry stone wall."
"British firing upon British,— " Dixon charging his Pipe absently, "I thought thah' was all done with. Are your Weavers Jacobites, then?"
"They're people, Dixon, whom I saw daily, they work'd, they ate when they came off-shift, good for a Cob or a Batch-Loaf a day. Or a Mason's Bap,— that was my Dad's own specialty33, baked upon the bottom of the Oven, white Flour in clouds, he'd sell 'em whole, or by the Slice.
"Some aspir'd to be master-weavers, most would have settl'd for a liv?ing wage, but their desires how betray'd, when in 'fifty-six the Justices of the Peace, upon easily imagin'd arrangements with the Clothiers, reduced by half the Wages set by law, and the troubles came to a head.”
He pauses as if reaching a small decision. "Rebekah's people were weavers."
Dixon lighting34 his Pipe, "Hahdn't knoawn thah'."
"Wool-workers upon her father's side, silk upon her mother's,— she liked to say it accompted for the way she was."
Dixon puffs35, nodding slowly, evenly, eyes cross'd as if scrying in the glow of his pipe-bowl.
And that wondrous36 night, in the High Street, they were all there, brothers and cousins and uncles,"— Mason's pause seems but for breath, tho' Dixon already is beaming an unmistakable inquiry,— "/ was there, now that I think of it."
Dixon nods. "Been out upon the Pavement m'self.. .Tyne Keelmen, back in 'fifty. No business over there, understand, none at all, yet..."
Mason reaches for his Pipe. "Oh, aye."
"More than once, perhaps...?"
"I have look'd on Worlds far distant, their Beauty how pitiless."
"Yet thah' night— "
"The Streets, Jere! thousands of angry men in Streets that ordinarily see no more than, oh, a dozen a day,— 'twas back'd up to Slad Brook37! it spill'd out into both branches of the High Street,— " he puffs, in a sub-merriment Dixon recognizes, "— down the Lower Street, and up Parlia?ment, and all that Hill-side between,— torches ev'rywhere, Looms38 dress'd in Mourning, songs of the 'Forty-five (their Throbbing39 within those prim40 corridors of Stone, how savage), effigies41 of hated Master Weavers, hang'd in their own Bar-chains so dishonorably set, and the Murmur,— ever, unceasingly, the great, crisp, serene42 Roar,— of a Mobility43 focus'd upon a just purpose."
"Aye...aye, of course in Newcastle 'twas more the Brick type of wall,— quite different sound,— more like Philadelphia...?"
"What did they do in Durham with the ones they caught?"
"The Keelmen? transported,— I know, not as entertaining as the gal44?lows in Painswick,— yet, as we aren't quite such devotees of the Noose45 in Durham, a good many Tyneside Keel-men ended up in America,— hereabouts, in fact. If we'd stopp'd longer in Philadelphia, we'd've run into a few of 'em by now....”
"And, would I've enjoy'd that?"
"Tha might not've been along...? I mean, of course, having at the last minute decided46 they weren't thy sort, all that coal-grime and ale-drinking and such,— nor as clean as thy Loom-worker, out there by the babbling47 Brook, neat as a Pin and All,—
"Wait. You're saying that ceteris paribus, the Company of Keelmen is preferable to that of Weavers? That's clearly impossible, for 'tis widely allow'd, that Weavers are the soul of Jollification."
"You've nothing in Gloucester nay48, nor in the Kingdom, to match the night Billy Snowball thought the Old dasher's head was an Ale-Can! Eeh! Eeh! Eeh!"
Mason gazes until the laughter subsides49. "Tho' evidently a source of Cheery Memories for you,— ''
"Kept grabbin' him by his Noahse...? 'And whah's this?' Eeeh! Eeh!"
"— yet in Stroud, how ill-advis'd,— even in so tolerant and cos?mopolitan a Room as The George Inn,—
"Where, let us recall, back in 'fifty-six, tha witness'd a Congress of Clothiers leaping from the Upstairs windows,—
"Thankee,— some indeed with their Punch-cups still upon their Fingers, and lit Pipes in their Mouths, and the Cards scatt'ring ev'ry-where,— '
At home he found his father in some Anxiety. "Weavers a-riot, troops coming in,—
"I ought to stay, then."
"What'll you do, point your Telescope at them? You'll be worse than useless, they'll shoot you the moment you present them that vacant Face."
"Perhaps I can ask them at Greenwich for another—
"Release yourself,— your mother and I will get through, between the thieving Mob and the thieving Soldiers, there're still places to hide an odd Loaf...but you,— better that you repair to Greenwich, Kent, young Sirr,— remain upon your Hill-top, farr from this poorr defeated place."
He sought his Mother's eyes,— receiving only a quick Sweep, as from a Broom, her face distress'd, as if whispering, You see how you dis?tress him...
The open countryside seem'd made only to pull coal out of and run a few sheep on, and to harbor all the terrors imaginable to a boy. "I was only comfortable in the towns," Dixon one day would admit, "or in Raby, pro?tected by the Castle,—yet never car'd for the territory between."
Mason looks on in some perplexity. "Rum affliction for a Surveyor, isn't it?"
"Say that it provided me an incentive50, to enclose that which had hith?erto been without Form, and hence haunted by anything and ev'rything, if you grasp my meaning,— anything and ev'rything, Sir."
"I was well acquainted with such terrors, whilst yet I crept and bab-bl'd, Sir. Despite the roads steep and toilsome, was I taken, like most children born in that part of Bisley Parish, truly bouncing Babes all, to Sapperton Church, to be Christen'd,— for Bisley lies across a great tree?less Plain, known at our end as Oakridge Common, and at the other as Bisley Common, haunted by wild men and murderers, and its Wind never ceasing,— a source of limitless Fear."
"Cockfield Fell to the double-dot," Dixon recalls. "Ev'ryone put in great effort to avoid crossing it."
"When I got older and began watching the Stars, of course, 'twas another Story. The Sky was suddenly all there, in its full Display. I couldn't wait for Night, to be out under it."
"Eeh, stop, I'm a-shiver now."
"Nothing for Miles, unprotected 'neath those Leagues innumerable, in which, at any moment,—
"Eeeehh!" Dixon, to appearance in a true Panick, runs about the Tent looking for someplace to hide, and finding nothing but a Feed-Sack handy, attempts to insert himself into it.
Emerson smoaked it all right away. "If it's but the empty places between the Towns," he advis'd Dixon, "your worries are at an end, for look what you can do. You can get above it." He spoke51 these words with an emphasis Dixon cannot describe the full strangeness of. Something was up,— as so, shortly, would he and his classmates be,— but before they learn'd to fly, they had to learn about Maps, for Maps are the Aides-memoires of flight. So Dixon came to discover as well the great Invari-
ance whereby, aloft, one gains exactitude of Length and Breadth, only to lose much of the land's Relievo, or Dimension of Height,— whilst back at ground level, traveling about the Country, one regains52 bodily the real?ities of up and down, only to lose any but a rough sense of the other two Dimensions, now all about one.
"Earthbound," Emerson continued, "we are limited to our Horizon, which sometimes is to be measur'd but in inches.— We are bound withal to Time, and the amounts of it spent getting from one end of a journey to another. Yet aloft, in Map-space, origins, destinations, any Termini, hardly seem to matter,— one can apprehend53 all at once the entire plexity of possible journeys, set as one is above Distance, above Time itself."
"Altitude!" cried out a couple of alert youths,— as, in Emerson's class they were encourag'd to do.
"Altitude, being the Price we pay for this great Exemption54, is consid-er'd as an in-house Expense, to be absorb'd in an inner term of a lengthy55 Expression describing Location, Course, and Speed. If you're interested, wait for my book upon Navigation, currently all but in Galley-proofs, for a detail'd Account."
Some were preoccupied56 with questions less modern. "Where is Hob Headless in this aerial View?" Dixon was not alone in wanting to know. "What of the Shotton Dobby, and the Old Hell-Cat of Raby with her black Coach and six? She can rise above the Land-scape too,— how does an innocent Cartographer deal with that?"
"Professional courtesy is the usual rule," Emerson replied. "You salute57 in the other her Gift of Flight, and move on. Briskly, if possible."
"And uhm, vice58 versa, too, you're quite sure of that, Sir...?"
"Tut, tut, alas59 and what shall we do, 0 the Lamentations of Jeremiah.— Have you then been squandering60 your precious Skepticism, over at Raby, upon this Gothickal Clap-trap?"
Why aye, and so he had, and even worse than that, he'd fallen into a Fascination61 with the "Old Hell-Cat" herself,— Elizabeth, Lady Barnard, who'd died back in '42 after a life of embitter'd family warfare62 over who was to inherit the Castle, whose Battlements she continued to walk with a pair of brass knitting-needles, whilst awaiting her Coach. The great thing, of these Needles, was, that they glow'd in the Dark, because they were Very Hot, hotter than a Coal-fire, more like the fires
of Hell, which feed upon substances less easily nam'd. 'Twas as a further conundrum63 presented to them to solve (or not solve) that Emerson won-der'd aloud, What Yarn64 could she possibly be knitting with, that would not burn at the touch of Heat like that? Wool from a Hell-Sheep? Those who tried to imagine it were rewarded, though in ways they later found difficult to describe.
Many is the night young Dixon sees her up there, the angles between the two bright Lines ever varying as she paces to and fro— One night at last, probably (he says he is no longer sure) disappointed in early Love, which is to say devastated65, he decides, with nothing more to lose, that he'll go up and have a closer look. By now he knows the Castle like a Cat, no perch66 too precarious67 nor roof-slate too slippery, as he goes a-flowing one to the next among holds upon the facial features of Gar?goyles known, perforce, with some intimacy68, across Counter-scarps, to and through Machicolations in the Moon-light— If the Spectre, without her Coach, be relatively69 slow-moving, how difficult shall it be to spy upon her?
That's if. As Dixon draws close, he can hear her muttering. "Never on Time. Always delay'd, always another excuse. The 'late' Lady Barnard, indeed. Yet what is the point of cursing the fool, Eternally curs'd as he was ever?" By now, there's a peculiar70 sound out in the night, bearing the same relation to Hoofbeats as pluck'd Strings71 to Drum-beats, and seem?ing to approach—
Dixon must suppress a Gasp72. Assembling itself from the Darkness about them appears the most uncommonly73 beautiful Coach he's ever seen. Its curves are the curves of a desirable Woman, its Lacquering's all a-flash, Bright as a wanton Eye. Its coal-color'd Arabs, scarcely sighing, bring it in a glide74 to a spot near her Parapet, holding it then pois'd, hooves stirring in the empty Air, above the Grounds invisible in the Darkness below,— whilst the Coachman, with a face as white as his Liv?ery is black, descends75 to the Parapet to open her Door.
"Late again, Trent."
"Sorry Milady— traffick."
"Traffick!" she raises the Brass needles above her head, one in each trembling fist, as if to strike. "I've heard the lead horse went insane,—
I've heard the Wife she's not so clivvor this se'ennight,— I've heard, the Wind was in my teeth, and the Clock ran down, and the Dog made off with me Coachwhip, but this, Trent, this begins to approach the truly maddening. What possible Traffick can there be above Cockfield Fell? Are we not in fact the only flying Coach-and-six in the Palati?nate?"
"They,— they come over from Hurworth, Milady,— swarms76 of them." "Oh, it's Emerson and that lot. Ragged77 children. Swarms, quotha. You may as well have been delay'd by a flock of Ducks. Really, Trent, these excuses grow more and more enfeebl'd, and tiresome78 pari passu— What are you up to, honestly, when I leave you alone with this lovely Machine? Hmm? Trent? Come, come, you can tell Her Ladyship all." With an athletic79 readiness that surprizes the young Lurker80, she vaults81 up into the quilted black velvet82 interior, and Trent swings shut the Door and climbs smirking83 to his seat. Through the Window she leans then to stare back out, unmistakably and directly at Dixon, and calls, "Perhaps another time, Jeremiah." They are gone,— horses, per?fect Shine, curves and all, leaving Dixon's nape and shoulders mantl'd in unearthly cold.
That is how he remembers first hearing of Emerson, though the Leg?
end by then was well under way in Durham. Though he keeps chuck?
ling it away, Dixon also suspects he sought out Emerson from his
Desire to be one of those ragged Kids, and that "another Time" happen
some Evening when he and Lady Barnard were both aloft. Down
here she held too much advantage. Altitude might help his odds84. He
didn't know whether he was planning seduction, or combat,— these, at
fourteen, being the only categories of Pleasure he recogniz'd. That
it might have been something else altogether would never occur to
him until years later, at Castle Lepton, in the wilderness85 of America,
well entangl'd in gambling86 debts, Romantick Intriguing87, and political
jiggery-pokery, all punctuated88 by a Liver Episode he may have worried
himself into, unless 'twas all that Drinking he was doing. "Ah Mason,"
he cried, tho' Mason, who in fact was not doing too much better, lay
snoring in a Corner,— "she has it all,— Beauty, Money,...um...what?
ever else there is “
Whilst yet in the steep Mountains, they take to Sledding in the Year's early snow-Falls, upon folded pieces of Tent-Canvas. One day, just as they start down a long slope neither can remember from earlier, coming the other way and climbing, an Autumnal Squall comes snapping up like a Blanket being shaken into a Spread of chill Cloud, and Snow begins abruptly89, it seems, to fall. Both Surveyors feel their Velocity90 increasing ominously91.
"Ehp, Dixon? Still over there? Can you see where we're going?"
"Snow's coming down too thick!" Dixon calls from someplace, because of the change of acousticks between them, unmeasurable.
Both shrill92 with the Predicament, blind, together, separate, they plunge93 down the imperfectly remember'd Steep. They pass the Commis?sary-Waggon, and one, then two more Supply-Waggons, each brak'd in its Snowy Descent by a late-fell'd Tree dragged behind, the Drivers look?ing 'round wildly, the Horses beginning to grow anxious, till Mason and Dixon are swept once again behind the stinging Curtain of Snow-Crystals. They hear voices ahead, then are suddenly zooming94 out of Invisibility, in among the Axmen, who, believing them pitiless crazy predators95 in this place lonely as any in Ulster or the Rhineland, scatter96 for their Lives back into the Trees. The Day is medium-lit, the Snow more Fall than Storm. The look of all things, thro' the white Descent, is amplified,— the Brass of Instruments back beneath Canvas, the drop?pings of the Horses, the glow of a clay pipe-ful of Tobacco— Each is aware of how easily a Tree unfell'd, even a Stump97 left high enough to pro?trude from the Snow, rearing too quickly to swerve98 'round, might mark their personal Termini.
"Dixon! Can you hear me?"
"I'm just here, tha' don't have to shout...?"
"Look ye, I am going entirely99 too fast, and as the First Derivative100 'round here shows no sign of lessening101, what I thought I'd do is self-brake,— that is, lean over gradually like this, until I fall o-o-o-ve-r-r-r!...," his voice abruptly fading behind, leaving Dixon alone to face whatever con1?tinues to rush upon him a Snowflake's breadth ahead of his Nose.
"Eeh, thah's a bonny Pickle102 tha've put me in, for fair...." His Reflec?tions are interrupted by the seemingly miraculous103 Advent104, directly in his Path, of a Pile of Cushions, usually located 'neath the Waggon-Canopy, where they intervene 'twixt the Instruments and the excursions of the secular105 Road-way, but here rather set in the Snow-fall to air out, lest the tell-tale Aura of Tobacco-Smoak testify to a slothful and indeed unac?ceptable proximity106 of Instrument-Bearers to Instruments. "Fate is Fate...?" he supposes aloud, opening his arms to embrace this by no means discomfort-free heap of Upholstery.
"Stogies, I believe...?" when all has subsided107 to a Halt.
"Sir," replies the Waggoner, Frederick Schess, "my personal Opinion of Tobacco,—
"Freddie, consider the Crossing of Paths here,— why, it has likely sav'd my Life...? Miraculous, for fair...? How can I report thee? yet at the same time, how can I commend thee for it?"
"Cash is acceptable,— " calls Tom Hickman.
"Jug108 of Corn now and then'd be pleasant," adds Matty Marine109.
They discharge the Hands and leave off for the Winter. At Christmastide, the Tavern110 down the Road from Harlands' opens its doors, and soon ev'ryone has come inside. Candles beam ev'rywhere. The Surveyors, knowing this year they'll soon again be heading off in different Direc?tions into America, stand nodding at each other across a Punch-bowl as big as a Bathing-Tub. The Punch is a secret Receipt of the Landlord, including but not limited to peach brandy, locally distill'd Whiskey, and milk. A raft of long Icicles broken from the Eaves floats upon the pale contents of the great rustick Monteith. Everyone's been exchanging gifts. Somewhere in the coming and going one of the Children is learning to play a metal whistle. Best gowns rustle111 along the board walls. Adults hold Babies aloft, exclaiming, "The little Sausage!" and pretending to eat them. There are popp'd Corn, green Tomato Mince112 Pies, pickl'd Oys?ters, Chestnut113 Soup, and Kidney Pudding. Mason gives Dixon a Hat, with a metallick Aqua Feather, which Dixon is wearing. Dixon gives Mason a Claret Jug of silver, crafted in Philadelphia. There are Con-
estoga Cigars for Mr. Harland and a Length of contraband114 Osnabrigs for Mrs. H. The Children get Sweets from a Philadelphia English-shop, both adults being drawn115 into prolong'd Negotiations116 with their Juniors, as to who shall have which of. Mrs. Harland comes over to embrace both Sur?veyors at once. "Thanks for simmering down this Year. I know it ain't easy."
"What a year, Lass," sighs Dixon.
"Poh. Like eating a Bun," declares Mason.
收听单词发音 |
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con
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| n.反对的观点，反对者，反对票，肺病；vt.精读，学习，默记；adv.反对地，从反面；adj.欺诈的 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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pro
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| n.赞成，赞成的意见，赞成者 | |
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bloodied
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| v.血污的( bloody的过去式和过去分词 )；流血的；屠杀的；残忍的 | |
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huddle
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| vi.挤作一团；蜷缩；vt.聚集；n.挤在一起的人 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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covetousness
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breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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rectified
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| [医]矫正的，调整的 | |
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trudging
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的现在分词形式） | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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dorsal
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| adj.背部的，背脊的 | |
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futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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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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attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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assorted
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| adj.各种各样的，各色俱备的 | |
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prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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quarries
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| n.（采）石场( quarry的名词复数 )；猎物（指鸟，兽等）；方形石；（格窗等的）方形玻璃v.从采石场采得( quarry的第三人称单数 )；从（书本等中）努力发掘（资料等）；在采石场采石 | |
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auctions
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| n.拍卖，拍卖方式( auction的名词复数 ) | |
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rams
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| n.公羊( ram的名词复数 )；(R-)白羊（星）座；夯；攻城槌v.夯实（土等）( ram的第三人称单数 )；猛撞；猛压；反复灌输 | |
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bagpipes
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| n.风笛；风笛( bagpipe的名词复数 ) | |
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glades
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| n.林中空地( glade的名词复数 ) | |
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27
morale
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| n.道德准则，士气，斗志 | |
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28
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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29
fowl
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| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
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30
weavers
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| 织工，编织者( weaver的名词复数 ) | |
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31
treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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32
rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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33
specialty
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| n.(speciality)特性，特质；专业，专长 | |
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34
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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35
puffs
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| n.吸( puff的名词复数 )；（烟斗或香烟的）一吸；一缕（烟、蒸汽等）；（呼吸或风的）呼v.使喷出( puff的第三人称单数 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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36
wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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37
brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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38
looms
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| n.织布机( loom的名词复数 )v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的第三人称单数 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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39
throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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40
prim
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| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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41
effigies
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| n.（人的）雕像，模拟像，肖像( effigy的名词复数 ) | |
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42
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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43
mobility
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| n.可动性，变动性，情感不定 | |
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44
gal
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| n.姑娘，少女 | |
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45
noose
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| n.绳套，绞索（刑）；v.用套索捉；使落入圈套；处以绞刑 | |
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46
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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47
babbling
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| n.胡说，婴儿发出的咿哑声adj.胡说的v.喋喋不休( babble的现在分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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48
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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49
subsides
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的第三人称单数 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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50
incentive
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| n.刺激；动力；鼓励；诱因；动机 | |
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51
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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52
regains
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| 复得( regain的第三人称单数 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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53
apprehend
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| vt.理解，领悟，逮捕，拘捕，忧虑 | |
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54
exemption
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| n.豁免，免税额，免除 | |
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55
lengthy
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| adj.漫长的，冗长的 | |
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56
preoccupied
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| 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) | |
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57
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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58
vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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59
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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60
squandering
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| v.（指钱，财产等）浪费，乱花( squander的现在分词 ) | |
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61
fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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62
warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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63
conundrum
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| n.谜语；难题 | |
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64
yarn
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| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
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65
devastated
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| v.彻底破坏( devastate的过去式和过去分词)；摧毁；毁灭；在感情上（精神上、财务上等）压垮adj.毁坏的；极为震惊的 | |
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66
perch
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| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
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67
precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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68
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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69
relatively
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| adv.比较...地，相对地 | |
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70
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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71
strings
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| n.弦 | |
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72
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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73
uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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74
glide
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| n./v.溜，滑行；(时间)消逝 | |
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75
descends
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| v.下来( descend的第三人称单数 )；下去；下降；下斜 | |
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76
swarms
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| 蜂群，一大群( swarm的名词复数 ) | |
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77
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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78
tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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79
athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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80
lurker
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| n.诱鱼灯船，划艇 | |
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81
vaults
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| n.拱顶( vault的名词复数 )；地下室；撑物跳高；墓穴 | |
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82
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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83
smirking
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| v.傻笑( smirk的现在分词 ) | |
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84
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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85
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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86
gambling
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| n.赌博；投机 | |
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87
intriguing
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| adj.有趣的；迷人的v.搞阴谋诡计(intrigue的现在分词)；激起…的好奇心 | |
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88
punctuated
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| v.（在文字中）加标点符号，加标点( punctuate的过去式和过去分词 )；不时打断某事物 | |
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89
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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90
velocity
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| n.速度，速率 | |
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91
ominously
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| adv.恶兆地，不吉利地；预示地 | |
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92
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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93
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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94
zooming
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| adj.快速上升的v.（飞机、汽车等）急速移动( zoom的过去分词 )；（价格、费用等）急升，猛涨 | |
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95
predators
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| n.食肉动物( predator的名词复数 )；奴役他人者（尤指在财务或性关系方面） | |
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96
scatter
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| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
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97
stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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98
swerve
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| v.突然转向，背离；n．转向，弯曲，背离 | |
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99
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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100
derivative
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| n.派(衍)生物；adj.非独创性的，模仿他人的 | |
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101
lessening
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| 减轻，减少，变小 | |
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102
pickle
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| n.腌汁，泡菜；v.腌，泡 | |
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103
miraculous
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| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
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104
advent
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| n.(重要事件等的)到来，来临 | |
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105
secular
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| n.牧师，凡人；adj.世俗的，现世的，不朽的 | |
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106
proximity
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| n.接近，邻近 | |
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107
subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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108
jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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109
marine
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| adj.海的；海生的；航海的；海事的；n.水兵 | |
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110
tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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111
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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112
mince
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| n.切碎物；v.切碎，矫揉做作地说 | |
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113
chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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114
contraband
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| n.违禁品，走私品 | |
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115
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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116
negotiations
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| 协商( negotiation的名词复数 )； 谈判； 完成（难事）； 通过 | |
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