Next morning the travellers were up and away by daybreak, and in the afternoon they came upon a solitary4 miner who was prospecting5 in a gulch7 near the road-side.
This word gulch is applied to the peculiarly abrupt8, short ravines, which are a characteristic feature in Californian more than in any other mountains. The weather was exceedingly hot, and the man took off his cap and wiped his streaming brow as he looked at the travellers who approached him.
“Ha! you’ve got water there, I see,” cried Tom Collins, leaping off his horse, seizing a cup which stood on the ground full of clear water, and draining it eagerly.
“Stop!” cried the man, quickly.
The miner took the empty cup and gazed inquiringly into it.
“Humph! you’ve drunk it, every grain.”
“Drop, you mean,” suggested Tom, laughing at the man’s expression; “of course I have, and why not? There’s plenty more of the same tap here.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t mind the water,” replied the man, “if ye had only left the gold-dust behind, but you’ve finished that too.”
“You don’t mean it!” gasped10 Tom, while the questions flashed across his mind—Is gold-dust poison? And if not, is it digestible? “How—how much have I swallowed?”
“Only about two dollars—it don’t signify,” answered the man, joining in the burst of laughter to which Ned and Tom gave way on this announcement.
“I’m afraid we must owe you the sum, then,” said Ned, recovering his composure, “for we have only one dollar left, having been robbed last night; but as we mean to work in this neighbourhood, I dare say you will trust us.”
The man agreed to this, and having directed the travellers to the settlement of Weaver11 Creek12, resumed his work, while they proceeded on their way. Tom’s digestion13 did not suffer in consequence of his golden draught, and we may here remark, for the benefit of the curious, that he never afterwards experienced any evil effects from it. We may further add, that he did not forget to discharge the debt.
After half-an-hour’s ride they came in sight of a few straggling diggers, from whom they learned that the settlement, or village, or town of Weaver Creek was about two miles further on, and in a quarter of an hour they reached it.
The spot on which it stood was wild and romantic, embosomed among lofty wooded hills, whose sides were indented14 by many a rich ravine, and seamed by many a brawling15 water-course. Here digging was, as the miners have it, in full blast. Pick, and shovel16, and cradle, and long-tom, and prospecting-pan—all were being plied3 with the utmost energy and with unwearied perseverance17. The whole valley was cut up and converted into a net-work of holes and mud-heaps, and the mountain slopes were covered with the cabins, huts, and canvas tents of the miners.
About the centre of the settlement, which was a very scattered19 one, stood a log-house or cabin, of somewhat larger dimensions than the generality of those around it. This was the grand hotel, restaurant, and gambling-house of the place, besides being the scene of the trials and executions that occasionally took place. Some such work was going forward when our travellers rode up, for the area in front of the hotel was covered with a large concourse of miners.
“I suspect they are about to try the poor wretches20 who attacked us last night,” said Ned, dismounting at the door of the house.
He had scarcely spoken, when a couple of men ran towards them.
“Here you are, strangers,” they cried, “come along and bear witness agin’ them blackguards; they’re just about to be strung up. We’ll look after your horses.”
The duty was a disagreeable one, but it could not be avoided, so Ned and Tom suffered themselves to be led into the centre of the ring where the three culprits were standing22 already pinioned23, and with the ropes round their necks. For a short time silence was obtained while Ned stated the circumstances of the robbery, and also the facts regarding the murder of which Black Jim had been previously24 found guilty. Then there was a general shout of “String ’em up!” “Up wi’ the varmints!” and such phrases; but a short respite25 was granted in consequence of Black Jim expressing a desire to speak with Ned Sinton.
“What have you to say to me?” inquired Ned, in a low tone, as he walked close up to the wretched man, who, although his minutes on earth were numbered, looked as if he were absolutely indifferent to his fate.
“I’ve only to say,” answered the culprit, sternly, “that of all the people I leaves behind me in this world there’s but one I wish I hadn’t bin18 bad to, and that’s Kate Morgan. You know something of her, though you’ve never seen her—I know that. Tell her I—no, tell her she’ll find the gold I robbed her of at the foot o’ the pine-tree behind the tent she’s livin’ in jist now. An’ tell her that her little sister’s not dead, though she don’t believe me. I took the child to—”
“Come, come, ha’ done wi’ yer whisperin’,” cried several of the bystanders, who were becoming impatient of delay.
“Have patience,” said Ned, raising his hand. “The man is telling me something of importance.”
“I’ve done,” growled26 Black Jim, scowling27 on the crowd with a look of hate; “I wish I hadn’t said so much.”
The rope was tightened28 as he spoke21, and Ned, turning abruptly29 on his heel, hurried away with his friend from the spot just as the three robbers were run up and suspended from the branch of the tree, beneath and around which the crowd stood.
Entering the inn, and seating themselves in a retired30 corner of the crowded gambling-room, Ned and Tom proceeded to discuss their present prospects31 and future plans in a frame of mind that was by no means enviable. They were several hundreds of miles distant from the scene of their first home at the diggings, without a dollar in their pockets, and only a horse between them. With the exception of the clothes on their backs, and Ned’s portfolio32 of drawing materials, which he always carried slung33 across his shoulder, they had nothing else in the world. Their first and most urgent necessity was supper, in order to procure34 which it behoved them to sell Tom’s horse. This was easily done, as, on application to the landlord, they were directed to a trader who was on the point of setting out on an expedition to Sacramento city, and who readily purchased the horse for less than half its value.
Being thus put in possession of funds sufficient at least for a few days, they sat down to supper with relieved minds, and afterwards went out to stroll about the settlement, and take a look at the various diggings. The miners here worked chiefly at the bars or sand-banks thrown up in various places by the river which coursed through their valley; but the labour was severe, and the return not sufficient to attract impatient and sanguine35 miners, although quite remunerative36 enough to those who wrought37 with steady perseverance. The district had been well worked, and many of the miners were out prospecting for new fields of labour. A few companies had been formed, and these, by united action and with the aid of long-toms, were well rewarded, but single diggers and pan-washers were beginning to become disheartened.
“Our prospects are not bright,” observed Tom, sitting down on a rock close to the hut of a Yankee who was delving38 busily in a hole hard by.
“True,” answered Ned, “in one sense they are not bright, but in another sense they are, for I never yet, in all my travels, beheld39 so beautiful and bright a prospect6 of land and water as we have from this spot. Just look at it, Tom; forget your golden dreams for a little, if you can, and look abroad upon the splendid face of nature.”
Ned’s eye brightened as he spoke, for his love and admiration40 of the beauties and charms of nature amounted almost to a passion. Tom, also, was a sincere admirer of lovely, and especially of wild, scenery, although he did not express his feelings so enthusiastically.
“Have you got your colours with you?” he inquired.
“I have; and if you have patience enough to sit here for half-an-hour I’ll sketch41 it. If not, take a stroll, and you’ll find me here when you return.”
“I can admire nature for even longer than that period, but I cannot consent to watch a sketcher42 of nature even for five minutes, so I’ll take a stroll.”
In a few minutes Ned, with book on knee and pencil in hand, was busily engaged in transferring the scene to paper, oblivious43 of gold, and prospects, and everything else, and utterly44 ignorant of the fact that the Yankee digger, having become curious as to what the stranger could be about, had quitted his hole, and now stood behind him quietly looking over his shoulder.
The sketch was a very beautiful one, for, in addition to the varied45 character of the scenery and the noble background of the Sierra Nevada, which here presented some of its wildest and most fantastic outlines, the half-ruined hut of the Yankee, with the tools and other articles scattered around it, formed a picturesque46 foreground. We have elsewhere remarked that our hero was a good draughtsman. In particular, he had a fine eye for colour, and always, when possible, made coloured sketches47 during his travels in California. On the present occasion, the rich warm glow of sunset was admirably given, and the Yankee stood gazing at the work, transfixed with amazement49 and delight. Ned first became aware of his proximity50 by the somewhat startling exclamation51, uttered close to his ear—
“Wall, stranger, you air a screamer, that’s a fact!”
“I presume you mean that for a compliment,” said Ned, looking up with a smile at the tall, wiry, sun-burnt, red-flannel-shirted, straw-hatted creature that leaned on his pick-axe beside him.
“No, I don’t; I ain’t used to butter nobody. I guess you’ve bin raised to that sort o’ thing?”
“No, I merely practise it as an amateur,” answered Ned, resuming his work.
“Now, that is cur’ous,” continued the Yankee; “an’ I’m kinder sorry to hear’t, for if ye was purfessional I’d give ye an order.”
Ned almost laughed outright53 at this remark, but he checked himself as the idea flashed across him that he might perhaps make his pencil useful in present circumstances.
“I’m not professional as yet,” he said, gravely; “but I have no objection to become so if art is encouraged in these diggings.”
“I guess it will be, if you shew yer work. Now, what’ll ye ax for that bit!”
This was a home question, and a poser, for Ned had not the least idea of what sum he ought to ask for his work, and at the same time he had a strong antipathy54 to that species of haggling55, which is usually prefaced by the seller, with the reply, “What’ll ye give?” There was no other means, however, of ascertaining56 the market-value of his sketch, so he put the objectionable question.
“I’ll give ye twenty dollars, slick off.”
“Very good,” replied Ned, “it shall be yours in ten minutes.”
“An’ I say, stranger,” continued the Yankee, while Ned put the finishing touches to his work, “will ye do the inside o’ my hut for the same money?”
“I will,” replied Ned.
The Yankee paused for a few seconds, and then added—
“I’d like to git myself throwd into the bargain, but I guess ye’ll ask more for that.”
“No, I won’t; I’ll do it for the same sum.”
“Thank’ee; that’s all square. Ye see, I’ve got a mother in Ohio State, an’ she’d give her ears for any scrap57 of a thing o’ me or my new home; an’ if ye’ll git ’em both fixed48 off by the day arter to-morrow, I’ll send ’em down to Sacramento by Sam Scott, the trader. I’ll rig out and fix up the hut to-morrow mornin’, so if ye come by breakfast-time I’ll be ready.”
Ned promised to be there at the appointed hour, as he rose and handed him the sketch, which the man, having paid the stipulated58 sum, carried away to his hut with evident delight.
“Halloo, I say,” cried Ned.
“Wall?” answered the Yankee, stopping with a look of concern, as if he feared the artist had repented59 of his bargain.
“Mind you tell no one my prices, for, you see, I’ve not had time to consider about them yet.”
“All right; mum’s the word,” replied the man, vanishing into his little cabin just as Tom Collins returned from his ramble60.
“Halloo, Ned, what’s that I hear about prices? I hope you’re not offering to speculate in half-finished holes, or anything of that sort, eh?”
“Sit down here, my boy, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Tom obeyed, and, with a half-surprised and more than half-amused expression, listened to his companion’s narration61 of the scene that had just taken place, and of the plan which he had formed in his mind. This plan was carried out the following day.
By daybreak Ned was up preparing his drawing materials; then he and Tom breakfasted at the table d’h?te, after which the latter went to hunt for a suitable log-hut in which to carry on their joint62 labours, while the former proceeded to fulfil his engagement. Their night’s lodging63 and breakfast made a terribly large gap in their slender fortune, for prices at the time happened to be enormously high, in consequence of expected supplies failing to arrive at the usual time. The bill at the hotel was ten dollars a day per man; and provisions of all kinds were so dear, that the daily earnings64 of the miners barely sufficed to find them in the necessaries of life. It therefore behoved our friends to obtain a private dwelling65 and remunerative work as fast as possible.
On reaching the little log-hut, Ned found the Yankee ready to receive him. He wore a clean new red-flannel shirt, with a blue silk kerchief round the throat; a broad-brimmed straw hat, corduroys, and fisherman’s long boots. To judge from his gait, and the self-satisfied expression of his bronzed countenance66, he was not a little proud of his personal appearance.
While Ned arranged his paper and colours, and sharpened the point of his pencil, the Yankee kept up a running commentary on men and things in general, rocking himself on a rudely-constructed chair the while, and smoking his pipe.
The hut was very small—not more than twelve feet by eight, and just high enough inside to permit of a six-foot man grazing the beams when he walked erect67. But, although small, it was exceedingly comfortable. Its owner was his own architect and builder, being a jack-of-all-trades, and everything about the wooden edifice68 betokened69 the hand of a thorough workman, who cared not for appearance, but was sensitively alive to comfort. Comfort was stamped in unmistakeable characters on every article of furniture, and on every atom that entered into the composition of the Yankee’s hut. The logs of which it was built were undressed; they were not even barked, but those edges of them that lay together were fitted and bevelled with such nicety that the keenest and most searching blast of north wind failed to discover an entrance, and was driven baffled and shrieking70 from the walls. The small fire-place and chimney, composed of mud and dry grass, were rude in appearance; but they were substantial, and well calculated for the work they had to perform. The seats, of which there were four—two chairs, a bench, and a stool—were of the plainest wood, and the simplest form; but they were solid as rocks, and no complaining creak, when heavy men sat down on them, betokened bad or broken constitutions. The little table—two feet by sixteen inches—was in all respects worthy71 of the chairs. At one end of the hut there was a bed-place, big enough for two; it was variously termed a crib, a shelf, a tumble-in, and a bunk72. Its owner called it a “snoosery.” This was a model of plainness and comfort. It was a mere52 shell about two and a half feet broad, projecting from the wall, to which it was attached on one side, the other side being supported by two wooden legs a foot high. A plank73 at the side, and another at the foot, in conjunction with the walls of the cottage, converted the shelf into an oblong box. But the mattress74 of this rude couch was formed of buffalo-skins, covered with thick, long luxurious75 hair; above which were spread two large green mackinaw blankets of the thickest description; and the canvas pillow-case was stuffed with the softest down, purchased from the wild-fowl of California with leaden coin, transmitted through the Yankee’s unerring rifle.
There was a fishing-rod in one corner, a rifle in another, a cupboard in a third; poles and spears, several unfinished axe-handles, and a small fishing-net lay upon the rafters overhead; while various miscellaneous articles of clothing, and implements76 for mining hung on pegs78 from the walls, or lay scattered about everywhere; but in the midst of apparent confusion comfort reigned79 supreme80, for nothing was placed so as to come in one’s way; everything was cleverly arranged, so as to lie close and fit in; no article or implement77 was superfluous81; no necessary of a miner’s life was wanting; an air of thorough completeness invested the hut and everything about it; and in the midst of all sat the presiding genius of the place, with his long legs comfortably crossed, the tobacco wreaths circling round his lantern jaws82, the broad-brimmed straw hat cocked jauntily83 on one side, his arms akimbo, and his rather languid black eyes gazing at Ned Sinton with an expression of comfortable self-satisfaction and assurance that was quite comforting to behold84.
“Wall, mister, if you’re ready, I guess ye’d better fire away.”
“One second more and I shall commence,” replied Ned; “I beg pardon, may I ask your name?”
“Jefferson—Abel Jefferson to command,” answered the Yankee, relighting the large clay pipe which he had just filled, and stuffing down the glowing tobacco with the end of his little finger as slowly and deliberately85 as though that member were a salamander. “What’s yourn!”
“Edward Sinton. Now, Mr Jefferson, in what position do you intend to sit?”
“Jest as I’m settin’ now.”
“Then you must sit still, at least for a few minutes at a time, because I cannot sketch you while you keep rocking so.”
“No! now that’s a pity, for I never sits no other way when I’m to home; an’ it would look more nat’ral an’ raal like to the old ’ooman if I was drawd rockin’. However, fire away, and sing out when ye want me to stop. Mind ye, put in the whole o’ me. None o’ yer half-lengths. I never goes in for half-lengths. I always goes the whole length, an’ a leetle shave more. See that ye don’t forget the mole86 on the side o’ my nose. My poor dear old mother wouldn’t believe it was me if the mole warn’t there as big as life, with the two hairs in the middle of it. An’ I say, mister, mind that I hate flatterers, so don’t flatter me no how.”
“It wouldn’t be easy to do so,” thought Ned, as he plied his pencil, but he did not deem it advisable to give expression to his thoughts.
“Now, then, sit still for a moment,” said Ned.
The Yankee instantly let the front legs of his chair come to the ground with a bang, and gazed right before him with that intensely-grave, cataleptic stare that is wont87 to overspread the countenances88 of men when they are being photographed.
Ned laughed inwardly, and proceeded with his work in silence.
“I guess there’s Sam at the door,” said Abel Jefferson, blowing a cloud of smoke from his mouth that might have made a small cannon89 envious90.
The door flew open as he spoke, and Sam Scott, the trader, strode into the hut. He was a tall, raw-boned man, with a good-humoured but intensely impudent91 expression of countenance, and tanned to a rich dark brown by constant exposure to the weather in the prosecution92 of his arduous93 calling.
“Halloo! stranger, what air you up to!” inquired Sam, sitting down on the bench behind Ned, and looking over his shoulder.
Ned might perhaps have replied to this question despite its unceremoniousness, had not the Yankee followed it up by spitting over his shoulder into the fire-place. As it was, he kept silence, and went on with his work.
“Why I do declare,” continued Sam, “if you ain’t photogged here as small as life, mole an’ all, like nothin’. I say, stranger, ain’t you a Britisher?”
Sam again followed up his question with a shot at the fire-place.
“Yes,” answered Ned, somewhat angrily, “and I am so much of a Britisher, that I positively94 object to your spitting past my ear.”
“No, you don’t, do you? Now, that is cur’ous. I do believe if you Britishers had your own way, you’d not let us spit at all. What air you better than we, that you hold your heads so high, and give yourselves sich airs! that’s what I want to know.”
“If we do hold our heads high, it is because we are straightforward96, and not afraid to look any man in the face. As to giving ourselves airs, you mistake our natural reserve and dislike to obtrude97 ourselves upon strangers for pride; and in this respect, at least, if in no other, we are better than you—we don’t spit all over each other’s floors and close past each other’s noses.”
“Wall, now, stranger, if you choose to be resarved, and we choose to be free-an’-easy, where’s the differ? We’ve a right to have our own customs, and do as we please as well as you, I guess.”
“Hear, hear!” cried Abel Jefferson, commencing to rock himself again, and to smoke more violently than ever. “What say ye to that, mister?”
“Only this,” answered Ned, as he put the finishing touches to his sketch, “that whereas we claim only the right to do to and with ourselves what we please, you Yankees claim the right to do to and with everybody, else what you please. I have no objection whatever to your spitting, but I do object to your spitting over my shoulder.”
“Do you?” said Sam Scott, in a slightly sarcastic98 tone, “an’ suppose I don’t stop firin’ over your shoulder, what then?”
“How?” inquired Sam.
Ned rose and shook back the flaxen curls from his flushed face, as he replied, “By opening the door and kicking you out of the hut.”
He repented of the hasty expression the moment it passed his lips, so he turned to Jefferson and handed him the drawing for inspection100. Sam Scott remained seated. Whether he felt that Ned was thoroughly101 capable of putting his threat in execution or not we cannot tell, but he evinced no feeling of anger as he continued the conversation.
“I guess if you did that, you’d have to fight me, and you’d find me pretty smart with the bowie-knife an’ the revolver, either in the dark or in daylight.”
Sam here referred to the custom prevalent among the Yankees in some parts of the United States of duelling with bowie-knives or with pistols in a darkened room.
“And suppose,” answered Ned, with a smile—“suppose that I refused to fight, what then?”
“Why, then, you’d be called a coward all over the diggin’s, and you’d have to fight to clear your character.”
“And suppose I didn’t care a straw for being called a coward, and wouldn’t attempt to clear my character?”
“Why, then, I guess, I’d have to kick you in public till you were obligated to fight.”
“But suppose still further,” continued Ned, assuming the air of a philosopher discussing a profoundly-abstruse point in science—“suppose that, being the stronger man, I should prevent you from kicking me by knocking you down, what then?”
“Why, then, I’d be compelled to snuff you out slick off?”
Sam Scott smiled as he spoke, and touched the handle of his revolver.
“Which means,” said Ned, “that you would become a cold-blooded murderer.”
“So you Britishers call it.”
“And so Judge Lynch would call it, if I am not mistaken, which would insure your being snuffed out too, pretty effectually.”
“Wrong, you air, stranger,” replied the trader; “Judge Lynch regards affairs of honour in a very different light, I guess. I don’t think he’d scrag me for that.”
Further investigation102 of this interesting topic was interrupted by Abel Jefferson, who had been gazing in wrapt admiration at the picture for at least five minutes, pronouncing the work “fuss rate,” emphatically.
“It’s jest what’ll warm up the old ’ooman’s heart, like a big fire in a winter day. Won’t she screech103 when she claps her peepers on’t, an’ go yellin’ round among the neighbours, shewin’ the pictur’ o’ ‘her boy Abel,’ an’ his house at the gold diggin’s?”
The two friends commented pretty freely on the merits of the work, without the smallest consideration for the feelings of the artist. Fortunately they had nothing but good to say about it. Sam Scott, indeed, objected a little to the sketchy104 manner in which some of the subordinate accessories were touched in, and remarked that the two large hairs on the mole were almost invisible; but Jefferson persisted in maintaining that the work was “fuss rate,” and faultless.
The stipulated sum was paid; and Ned, bidding his new friends good-morning, returned to the inn, for the purpose of discussing dinner and plans with Tom Collins.
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1
draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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plied
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的过去式和过去分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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prospecting
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| n.探矿 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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7
gulch
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| n.深谷，峡谷 | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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smacking
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| 活泼的，发出响声的，精力充沛的 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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weaver
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| n.织布工；编织者 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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digestion
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| n.消化，吸收 | |
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indented
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| adj.锯齿状的，高低不平的；缩进排版 | |
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brawling
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| n.争吵，喧嚷 | |
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shovel
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| n.铁锨，铲子，一铲之量；v.铲，铲出 | |
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perseverance
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| n.坚持不懈，不屈不挠 | |
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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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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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wretches
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| n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 )；可怜的人；恶棍；坏蛋 | |
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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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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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pinioned
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| v.抓住[捆住]（双臂）( pinion的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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previously
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respite
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| n.休息，中止，暂缓 | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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portfolio
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| n.公事包；文件夹；大臣及部长职位 | |
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slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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procure
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| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
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sanguine
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| adj.充满希望的，乐观的，血红色的 | |
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remunerative
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| adj.有报酬的 | |
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wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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delving
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| v.深入探究，钻研( delve的现在分词 ) | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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sketcher
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| n.画略图者，作素描者，舞台布景设计者 | |
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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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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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sketches
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| n.草图( sketch的名词复数 )；素描；速写；梗概 | |
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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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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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proximity
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| n.接近，邻近 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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outright
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| adv.坦率地；彻底地；立即；adj.无疑的；彻底的 | |
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antipathy
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| n.憎恶；反感，引起反感的人或事物 | |
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haggling
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| v.讨价还价( haggle的现在分词 ) | |
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ascertaining
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| v.弄清，确定，查明( ascertain的现在分词 ) | |
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scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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stipulated
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| vt.& vi.规定；约定adj.[法]合同规定的 | |
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repented
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| 对（自己的所为）感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ramble
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| v.漫步，漫谈，漫游；n.漫步，闲谈，蔓延 | |
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narration
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| n.讲述，叙述；故事；记叙体 | |
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joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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earnings
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| n.工资收人；利润，利益，所得 | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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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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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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edifice
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| n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿，教室) | |
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betokened
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| v.预示，表示( betoken的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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plank
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| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
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mattress
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| n.床垫，床褥 | |
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luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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implements
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| n.工具( implement的名词复数 )；家具；手段；[法律]履行（契约等）v.实现( implement的第三人称单数 )；执行；贯彻；使生效 | |
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implement
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| n.(pl.)工具，器具；vt.实行，实施，执行 | |
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pegs
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| n.衣夹( peg的名词复数 )；挂钉；系帐篷的桩；弦钮v.用夹子或钉子固定( peg的第三人称单数 )；使固定在某水平 | |
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reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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81
superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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82
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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83
jauntily
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| adv.心满意足地；洋洋得意地；高兴地；活泼地 | |
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84
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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86
mole
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| n.胎块；痣；克分子 | |
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wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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88
countenances
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| n.面容( countenance的名词复数 )；表情；镇静；道义支持 | |
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cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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envious
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| adj.嫉妒的，羡慕的 | |
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impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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92
prosecution
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| n.起诉，告发，检举，执行，经营 | |
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93
arduous
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| adj.艰苦的，费力的，陡峭的 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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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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straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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obtrude
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| v.闯入；侵入；打扰 | |
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98
sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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99
impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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100
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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101
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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102
investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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103
screech
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| n./v.尖叫；(发出)刺耳的声音 | |
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sketchy
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| adj.写生的，写生风格的，概略的 | |
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