On July Fourth, for Judy's sake, he marches in a Mt. Judge parade. Her Girl Scout1 troop is in it and the troop leader's husband, Clarence Eifert, is on the organizing committee. They needed a man tall enough to be Uncle Sam and Judy told Mrs. Eifert that her grandfather was wonderfully tall. Actually, six three isn't tall by today's standards, you'd be a dwarf2 in the NBA at that height, but several members of the committee, a generation older than Mr. Eifert, remembered Rabbit Angstrom from his highschool glory days and became enthusiastic, even though Harry3 lives now in Penn Park on the other side of Brewer4. He was a Mt. Judge boy and something of a hero once. He has become more corpulent than our national symbol should be but he has the right fair skin and pale blue eyes and a good soldierly bearing. He served during Korea. He did his bit.
The bell?bottom trousers with their broad red stripes have to be left unbuttoned at the stomach, but since they are held up by tricolor suspenders, and a pale?blue vest patterned in stars comes down over the belt area, it doesn't much matter. Harry and Janice fuss a good deal at the costume in the week before the Fourth. They actually go buy a formal shirt with French cuffs5 and a wing collar to go with the floppy6 red cravat7, and decide that somehow his suede8 Hush9 Puppies go better with the red?striped trousers, look more like boots, than the formal black shoes he keeps for weddings and funerals. The swallowtail coat, of a wool darker blue than the vest, with three unbuttonable brass10 buttons on both sides, fits well enough, but the fuzzy flared11 top hat with its hatband of big silver stars perches12 on his high head unsteadily, a touch tight with the white nylon wig13, so it feels like it might totter14 and fall off.
Janice bites the tip of her tongue thoughtfully. "Do you need the wig? Your hair's so pale anyway."
"But it's cut too short for Uncle Sam. I would have let it grow out if I'd known."
"Well," she says, "why wouldn't Uncle Sam have a modern haircut? He's not dead, is he?"
He tests the hat without the wig and says, "It does feel better, actually."
"And frankly15, Harry, the wig on you is somehow alarming. It makes you look like a very big red?faced woman."
"Look, I'm doing this for our granddaughter, there's no need to get insulting."
"It's not insulting, it's interesting. I never saw your female side before. I bet you would have made a nicer woman than either your mother or Mim. They should have been men, both of them."
Mom was mean to Janice from the moment he first brought her home from Kroll's, and Mim once stole Charlie Stavros from her, or so Janice interpreted it. "I'm getting hot and itchy in this outfit," Harry says. "Let's try the goatee."
The goatee in place, Janice says, "Oh, yes. It slims your face right down. I wonder why you never grew a beard." There is this subtle past tense that keeps creeping into her remarks about him. "Mr. Lister is growing a beard now, and it makes him look a lot less doleful. He has these sagging16 jowls."
"I don't want to hear about that creep." He adds, "When I talk, the stickum doesn't feel like enough."
"It must be, it's gone through a lot of other parades."
"That's its problem, you dope. Is there any way to renew the stickum?"
"Just don't move your chin too much. I could call up Doris Eberhardt; when she was married to Kaufmann they were big into amateur theatricals17."
"Don't get that pushy18 bitch on my case. Maybe somebody at the parade will have some spare stickum."
But the mustering19 of the parade is a confused and scattered20 business, held on the grounds of the old Mt. Judge High School, now the junior high school and slated21 to be torn down because of the asbestos in it everywhere and the insurance rates on the wooden floors. When Harry went there, they all just breathed the asbestos and took their chances on the floors catching22 fire. There are marching bands and antique cars and 4?H floats and veterans in their old uniforms all milling around on the asphalt of the parking lot and the brown grass of the baseball outfield, with the only organizing principle provided by men and women in green T?shirts stencilled23 MT. JUDGE INDEPENDENCE DAY COMMITTEE and those plastic truck?driver caps with a bill in front and a panel of mesh24 at the back. Looking to be told where to go, Rabbit wanders in this area where long ago he had roamed with wet?combed duck?tailed hair and a corduroy shirt tight across his back, the sleeves folded back and, out of basketball season, a cigarette pack squaring the shirt pocket. He expects to come across his old girlfriend, Mary Ann, as she had been then, in saddle shoes and white socks and a short pleated cheerleader's skirt, her calves25 straight and smooth and round?muscled between the skirt and the socks, and her face, with the dimple in one cheek and the touch of acne on her forehead, springing into joyful26 recognition at the sight of him. Instead, strange people with puzzled Eighties faces keep asking directions, because he is dressed as Uncle Sam and should know. He has to keep telling them he doesn't know anything.
The old high school, built in the Twenties of orange brick, had a tall windowless wall at the back, across from a board?and?tarpaper equipment shed long since torn down, and this black and gravelly area has profound associations for him, a power in its mute bricks and secluding27 space, for it was here after school and until twilight28 called you home that the more questing and footloose of the town's children tended to gather, girls as well as boys, hanging out, shooting baskets at the hoop29 attached to the blank brickwork (flat on the wall like those in the gym in Oriole), necking against the torn?tarpaper boards of the equipment shed, talking (the girls held by the boys' braced30 arms as in a row of soft cages), teasing, passing secrets, feeling their way, avoiding going home, so that the gritty leftover31 space here behind the school was charged with a solemn excitement, the questing energy of adolescents. Now in this area, repaved and cleaned up, the shed and backboards gone, Rabbit comes upon Judy's Girl Scout troop, some of them in uniform and some posed in costume on a flatbed truck, a float illustrating32 Liberty, the tallest and prettiest girl in a white bedsheet and spiked33 crown holding a big bronze book and gilded34 torch, and others grouped around her cardboard pedestal with their faces painted red and brown and black and yellow to represent the races of mankind, the faces painted because there aren't any Indian or Negro or Asian little girls in Mt. Judge, at least any that have joined the Girl Scouts35.
Judy is one of those in badged and braided khaki uniform around the truck, and she is so amazed to see her grandfather in his towering costume that she takes his hand, as if to tie him to the earth, to reality. He has difficulty bending his head to see her, for fear that his top hat might fall off. As if addressing the distant backstop of the baseball diamond, he asks her, "How does the goatee look? The little beard, Judy."
"Fine, Grandpa. You scared me at first. I didn't know who you were."
"It feels to me like it might fall off any second."
"It doesn't look that way. I love the big stripy pants. Doesn't the vest squeeze your tummy?"
"That's the least of my problems. Judy, listen. Think you could do me a favor? It just occurred to me, they make a Scotch36 tape now that's sticky on both sides. If I gave you a couple dollars think you could run over to the little store across Central and get me some?" Always, under names and managements that shift with the years, there has been a store across from the school to sell its students bubble gum and candy and cap?guns and caps and tablets and cigarettes and skin magazines and whatever else young people thought they had to have. With difficulty, keeping his head stiffly upright, he digs through the layers of his costume to his wallet in a pouchy37 side pocket of the striped pants and, holding it up to his face, digs out two one?dollar bills. Just in case, he adds another. Things these days always cost more than he expects.
"Suppose it's not open because of the holiday!"
"It'll be open. It was always open."
"Suppose the parade starts; I got to be on the truck!"
"No it won't, the parade can't start without me. Come on, Judy. Think of all I've done for you. Think of how I saved you on the boat that time. Who got me into this damn parade in the first place? You did!"
He doesn't dare look down, lest his hat come off, but he can hear from her voice she is near tears. Her hair makes a reddish blur38 in the bottom of his vision. "O.K., I'll try, but. . ."
"Remember," he says, and as his chin stiffens39 in admonishment40. he feels his goatee loosen, "sticky on both sides. Scotch makes it. Run, honey!" His heart is racing41; he gropes through his clothes to make sure he remembered to bring the little bottle of nitroglycerin. He finds its life?giving nugget deep in the pouchy pocket. When he brings his fingers to his face, to tamp42 down the goatee, he sees they are trembling. If his goatee doesn't stick, he won't be Uncle Sam, and the entire parade will flounder; it will jam up here on the school grounds forever. He walks around with little steps, ignoring everybody, trying to quiet his heart. This is aggravating43.
When Judy at last comes back, panting, she tells him, "They were dumb. They mostly sell only food now. Junky things like Cheez Doodles. The only Scotch tape they have is sticky on one side only. I got some anyway. Was that O.K.?"
Drum rolls sound on the parking lot, scattered at first, a few kids impatiently clowning around, and then in unison44, gathering45 mass, an implacable momentum46. The motors of antique cars and trucks bearing floats are starting up, filling the holiday air with blue exhaust. "O.K.," Harry says, unable to look down at his granddaughter lest his hat fall off, pocketing the tape and the change from three dollars, pressed upon him from below. Estranged47 from his costumed body, he feels on stilts48, his feet impossibly small.
"I'm sorry, Grandpa. I did the best I could." Judy's little light voice, out of sight beneath him, wobbles and crackles with tears, like water sloshing in sun.
"You did great," he tells her.
A frantic49 stocky woman in a green committee T?shirt and truck?driver hat comes and hustles50 him away, to the head of the parade, past floats and drum?and?bugle51 corps52, Model A Fords and civic53 leaders in neckties and a white limousine54. A Mt. Judge patrol car with its blue light twirling and its siren silent will be the spearhead, then Harry at a distance. As if he doesn't know the route: as a child he used to participate in parades, in the crowd of town kids riding bicycles with red, white, and blue crépe paper threaded through the spokes55. Down Central to Market a block short of 422, through the heart of the little slanting56 diagonal downtown, then left and uphill along Potter Avenue, through blocks of brick semidetached houses up on their terraced lawns behind the retaining walls, then downhill past Kegerise Alley57 as they used to call it, Kegerise Street it is now, with its small former hosiery factories and machine shops renamed Lynnex and Data Development and Business Logistical Systems, up to Jackson, the high end, a block from his old house, and on down to Joseph and past the big Baptist church, and sharp right on Myrtle past the post office and the gaunt old Oddfellows' Hall to end at the reviewing stand set up in front of the Borough58 Hall, in the little park that was full in the Sixties of kids smoking pot and playing guitars but now on a normal day holds just a few old retired59 persons and homeless drifters with million?dollar tans. The green?chested woman, along with a marshal with a big cardboard badge, a squinty60 stooped jeweller called Himmelreich ? Rabbit was in school a few grades behind his father, whom everybody said was Jewish ? makes sure he delays enough to let a distance build between him and the lead car, so Uncle Sam doesn't look too associated with the police. Immediately next in the parade is the white limousine carrying the Mt. Judge burgess and what borough councilmen aren't off in the Poconos or at the Jersey61 Shore. From further behind come the sounds of the drum?and?bugle corps and some bagpipers hired from Chester County and the scratchy pop tunes62 playing on the floats to help illustrate63 Liberty and the Spirit of 1776 and ONE WORLD/UN MUNDO and Head, Heart, Hands, and Health, and at the tail end a local rock singer doing ecstatic imitations of Presley and Orbison and Lennon while a megawatt electric fan loudly blows on all the amplifying64 equipment stacked on his flatbed truck. But up front, at the head of the parade, it is oddly silent, hushed. What a precarious65 weird66 feeling it is for Harry at last to put his suede?booted feet on the yellow double line of the town's main street and start walking! He feels giddy, ridiculous, enormous. Behind him there is the white limousine purring along in low gear, so he cannot stop walking, and far ahead, so far ahead it twinkles out of sight around corners and bends in the route, the police car; but immediately ahead there is nothing but the eerie67 emptiness of normally busy Central Street under a dazed July sky blue above the telephone wires. He is the traffic, his solitary68 upright body. The stilled street has its lunar details, its pockmarks, its scars, its ancient metal lids. The tremor69 in his heart and hands becomes an exalted70 sacrificial feeling as he takes those few steps into the asphalt void, rimmed71 at this end of the route with only a few spectators, a few bare bodies in shorts and sneakers and tinted72 shirts along the curb73.
They call to him. They wave ironically, calling "Yaaaay" at the idea of Uncle Sam, this walking flag, this incorrigible74 taxer and frisky75 international mischief76?maker77. He has nothing to do but wave back, carefully nodding so as not to spill his hat or shake loose his goatee. The crowd as it thickens calls out more and more his name, "Harry," or "Rabbit" ? "Hey, Rabbit! Hey, hotshot!" They remember him. He hasn't heard his old nickname so often in many years; nobody in Florida uses it, and his grandchildren would be puzzled to hear it. But suddenly from these curbstones there it is again, alive, affectionate. This crowd seems a strung?out recycled version of the crowd that used to jam the old auditorium78?gym Tuesday and Friday nights, basketball nights, in the dead of the winter, making their own summer heat with their bodies, so that out on the floor sweat kept burning your eyes and trickling79 down from under your hair, behind your ears, down your neck to the hollow between your collar bones. Now the sweat builds under his wool swallowtail coat, on his back and his belly80, which indeed is squeezed as Judy said, and under his hat even without the wig; thank God Janice got him out of that, she isn't always a dumb mutt.
His sweat, as with increasing ease and eagerness he waves at the crowd that clusters at the corners and in the shade of the Norway maples81 and on the sandstone retaining walls and terraced lawns up into the cool shadow of the porches, loosens his goatee, undermines the adhesive82. He feels one side of it softly separate from his chin and without breaking stride ? Uncle Sam has a bent83?kneed, cranky stride not quite Harry's loping own ? he digs out the Scotch tape from the pouchy pocket and tears off an inch, with the tab of red plaid paper. It wants to stick to his fingers; after several increasingly angry flicks84 it flutters away onto the street. Then he pulls off another piece, which he presses onto his own face and the detaching edge of synthetic85 white beard; the tape holds, though it must make a rectangular gleam on his face. The spectators who see him improvise86 this repair cheer. He takes to doffing87 his tall heavy hat, with a cautious bow to either side, and this stirs more applause and friendly salutation.
The crowd he sees from behind his wave, his smile, his adhesive gleam amazes him. The people of Mt. Judge are dressed for summer, with a bareness that since Harry's childhood has crept up from children into the old. White?haired women sit in their aluminum88 lawn chairs down by the curb dressed like fat babies in checks and frills, their shapeless veined legs cheerfully protruding89. Middle?aged90 men have squeezed their keglike thighs91 into bicycle shorts meant for boys. Young mothers have come from their back?yard aboveground swimming pools in bikinis and high?sided slips of spandex that leave half their asses92 and boobs exposed. On their cocked hips93 they hold heat?flushed babies in nothing but diapers and rubber pants. There seem so many young ? babies, tots, a bubbling up of generation on generation since the town brought him forth94. Then it was full of the old: as he walked to school of a morning, severe and scolding women would come out of their houses shaking brooms and wearing thick dark stockings and housedresses with buttons all down the front. Now a cheerful innocent froth of flesh lines Jackson Road. Bare knees are bunched like grapes, and barrels of naked brown shoulders hulk in the dappled curbside shade. There are American flags on gilded sticks, and balloons, balloons in all colors, even metallic95 balloons shaped like hearts and pillows, held in hands and tied to bushes, to the handles of strollers containing yet more babies. A spirit of indulgence, a conspiring96 to be amused, surrounds and upholds his parade as he leads it down the stunning97 emptiness at the center of the familiar slanting streets.
Harry puts some Scotch tape on the other side of his goatee and out of the same pocket fishes his pill vial and pops a Nitrostat. The uphill section of the route tested him, and now turning downhill jars his heels and knees. When he draws too close to the cop car up ahead, carbon monoxide washes into his lungs. Mingled98 music from behind pushes him on: the gaps of "American Patrol" are filled with strains of "Yesterday." He concentrates on the painted yellow line, besmirched99 here and there by skid100 marks, dotted for stretches where passing is permitted but mostly double like the inflexible101 old trolley102 tracks, long buried or torn up for scrap103. Cameras click at him. Voices call his several names. They know him, but he sees no face he knows, not one, not even Pru's wry104 red?haired heart?shape or Roy's black?eyed stare or Janice's brown little stubborn nut of a face. They said they would be at the corner of Joseph and Myrtle, but here near the Borough Hall the crowd is thickest, the summer?cooked bodies four and five deep, and his loved ones have been swallowed up.
The whole town he knew has been swallowed up, by the decades, but another has taken its place, younger, more naked, less fearful, better. And it still loves him, as it did when he would score forty?two points for them in a single home game. He is a legend, a walking cloud. Inside him a droplet105 of explosive has opened his veins106 like flower petals107 uncurling in the sun. His eyes are burning with sweat or something allergic108, his head aches under the pressure cooker of the tall top hat. The greenhouse effect, he thinks. The hole in the ozone109. When the ice in Antarctica goes, we'll all be drowned. Scanning the human melt for the glint of a familiar face, Harry sees instead a beer can being brazenly110 passed back and forth, the flash of a myopic111 child's earnest spectacles, a silver hoop earring112 in the lobe113 of a Hispanic?looking girl. Along the march he noticed a few black faces in the crowd, as cheerful and upholding as the rest, and some Orientals ? an adopted Vietnamese orphan114, a chunky Filipino wife. From far back in the still?unwinding parade the bagpipers keen a Highland115 killing116 song and the rock impersonator whimpers ". . . imagine all the people" and, closer to the front, on a scratchy tape through crackling speakers, Kate Smith belts out, dead as she is, dragged into the grave by sheer gangrenous weight, "God Bless America" ? . . . to the oceans, white with foam117." Harry's eyes burn and the impression giddily ? as if he has been lifted up to survey all human history ? grows upon him, making his heart thump118 worse and worse, that all in all this is the happiest fucking country the world has ever seen.
收听单词发音 |
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scout
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| n.童子军，侦察员；v.侦察，搜索 | |
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dwarf
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| n.矮子，侏儒，矮小的动植物；vt.使…矮小 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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brewer
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| n. 啤酒制造者 | |
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cuffs
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| n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打，拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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floppy
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| adj.松软的，衰弱的 | |
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cravat
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| n.领巾，领结；v.使穿有领结的服装，使结领结 | |
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suede
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| n.表面粗糙的软皮革 | |
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hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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perches
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| 栖息处( perch的名词复数 )； 栖枝； 高处； 鲈鱼 | |
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wig
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| n.假发 | |
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totter
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| v.蹒跚， 摇摇欲坠；n.蹒跚的步子 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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sagging
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| 下垂[沉，陷]，松垂，垂度 | |
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theatricals
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| n.（业余性的）戏剧演出，舞台表演艺术；职业演员；戏剧的( theatrical的名词复数 )；剧场的；炫耀的；戏剧性的 | |
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pushy
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| adj.固执己见的，一意孤行的 | |
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mustering
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| v.集合，召集，集结（尤指部队）( muster的现在分词 )；（自他人处）搜集某事物；聚集；激发 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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slated
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| 用石板瓦盖( slate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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stencilled
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| v.用模板印（文字或图案）( stencil的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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mesh
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| n.网孔，网丝，陷阱；vt.以网捕捉，啮合，匹配；vi.适合； [计算机]网络 | |
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calves
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| n.(calf的复数)笨拙的男子，腓；腿肚子( calf的名词复数 )；牛犊；腓；小腿肚v.生小牛( calve的第三人称单数 )；（冰川）崩解；生（小牛等），产（犊）；使（冰川）崩解 | |
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joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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secluding
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| v.使隔开，使隔绝，使隐退( seclude的现在分词 ) | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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hoop
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| n.（篮球）篮圈，篮 | |
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braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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leftover
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| n.剩货，残留物，剩饭；adj.残余的 | |
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illustrating
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| 给…加插图( illustrate的现在分词 )； 说明； 表明； （用示例、图画等）说明 | |
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spiked
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| adj.有穗的；成锥形的；有尖顶的 | |
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gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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scouts
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| 侦察员[机，舰]( scout的名词复数 )； 童子军； 搜索； 童子军成员 | |
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scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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pouchy
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| adj.多袋的，袋状的，松垂的 | |
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blur
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| n.模糊不清的事物；vt.使模糊，使看不清楚 | |
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stiffens
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| （使）变硬，（使）强硬( stiffen的第三人称单数 ) | |
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admonishment
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| n.警告 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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tamp
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| v.捣实，砸实 | |
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aggravating
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| adj.恼人的，讨厌的 | |
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unison
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| n.步调一致，行动一致 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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momentum
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| n.动力，冲力，势头；动量 | |
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estranged
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| adj.疏远的，分离的 | |
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stilts
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| n.（支撑建筑物高出地面或水面的）桩子，支柱( stilt的名词复数 )；高跷 | |
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49
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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50
hustles
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| 忙碌，奔忙( hustle的名词复数 ) | |
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51
bugle
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| n.军号，号角，喇叭；v.吹号，吹号召集 | |
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52
corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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53
civic
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| adj.城市的，都市的，市民的，公民的 | |
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54
limousine
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| n.豪华轿车 | |
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55
spokes
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| n.（车轮的）辐条( spoke的名词复数 )；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 | |
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56
slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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57
alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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58
borough
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| n.享有自治权的市镇；(英)自治市镇 | |
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59
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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60
squinty
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| 斜视眼的，斗鸡眼的 | |
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61
jersey
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| n.运动衫 | |
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62
tunes
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| n.曲调，曲子( tune的名词复数 )v.调音( tune的第三人称单数 )；调整；（给收音机、电视等）调谐；使协调 | |
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63
illustrate
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| v.举例说明，阐明；图解，加插图 | |
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64
amplifying
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| 放大，扩大( amplify的现在分词 )； 增强； 详述 | |
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precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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eerie
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| adj.怪诞的；奇异的；可怕的；胆怯的 | |
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68
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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69
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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70
exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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rimmed
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| adj.有边缘的，有框的v.沿…边缘滚动；给…镶边 | |
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72
tinted
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| adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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73
curb
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| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
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incorrigible
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| adj.难以纠正的，屡教不改的 | |
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frisky
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| adj.活泼的，欢闹的；n.活泼，闹着玩；adv.活泼地，闹着玩地 | |
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76
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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maker
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| n.制造者，制造商 | |
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78
auditorium
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| n.观众席，听众席；会堂，礼堂 | |
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79
trickling
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| n.油画底色含油太多而成泡沫状突起v.滴( trickle的现在分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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80
belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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81
maples
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| 槭树，枫树( maple的名词复数 )； 槭木 | |
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adhesive
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| n.粘合剂；adj.可粘着的，粘性的 | |
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83
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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84
flicks
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的第三人称单数 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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85
synthetic
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| adj.合成的，人工的；综合的；n.人工制品 | |
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86
improvise
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| v.即兴创作；临时准备，临时凑成 | |
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doffing
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| n.下筒，落纱v.脱去，（尤指）脱帽( doff的现在分词 ) | |
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aluminum
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| n.(aluminium)铝 | |
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89
protruding
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的现在分词 )；凸 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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thighs
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| n.股，大腿( thigh的名词复数 )；食用的鸡（等的）腿 | |
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asses
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| n. 驴，愚蠢的人，臀部 adv. (常用作后置)用于贬损或骂人 | |
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hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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95
metallic
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| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
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conspiring
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| 密谋( conspire的现在分词 )； 搞阴谋； （事件等）巧合； 共同导致 | |
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97
stunning
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| adj.极好的；使人晕倒的 | |
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98
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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99
besmirched
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| v.弄脏( besmirch的过去式和过去分词 )；玷污；丑化；糟蹋（名誉等） | |
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100
skid
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| v.打滑 n.滑向一侧；滑道 ，滑轨 | |
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101
inflexible
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| adj.不可改变的，不受影响的，不屈服的 | |
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102
trolley
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| n.手推车，台车；无轨电车；有轨电车 | |
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103
scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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104
wry
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| adj.讽刺的；扭曲的 | |
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105
droplet
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| n.小滴，飞沫 | |
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106
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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107
petals
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| n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
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108
allergic
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| adj.过敏的，变态的 | |
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109
ozone
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| n.臭氧，新鲜空气 | |
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110
brazenly
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| adv.厚颜无耻地；厚脸皮地肆无忌惮地 | |
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111
myopic
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| adj.目光短浅的，缺乏远见的 | |
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112
earring
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| n.耳环，耳饰 | |
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113
lobe
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| n.耳垂，（肺，肝等的）叶 | |
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114
orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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115
highland
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| n.(pl.)高地，山地 | |
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116
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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117
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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118
thump
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| v.重击，砰然地响；n.重击，重击声 | |
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