Nathan is a tall, loosely built man, with a fresh, healthy complexion2, mild blue eyes, and a slightly hanging under-lip. For some considerable time he has been employed on what is locally known as 'the Duke's wark,' but in what particular capacity I cannot very well say. When first I knew him he was one of Archie Maxwell's employés in the nursery, and when our garden required professional attention it was always Nathan who was sent to do the necessary digging and titivating.
Three or maybe four times a year he spent a few days at a stretch among our vegetables and fruit-trees; and I remember with what eager interest I used to anticipate his visits, for, though he was a man of few words, and from a story-telling standpoint had little to commend him to a boy, he carried a quiet, companionable atmosphere with him, and, as a more dominating recommendation, he was the possessor of one of the sharpest and most formidable-looking 'gullies' I had ever seen.
How I envied him at pruning-time, when, with his easy, indifferent gait, he moved about among our rose-bushes with his keen hooked blade, and with one deft3 cut lopped off twigs4 and branches as if they were potato-suckers. Sometimes at my request he would lay his long gleaming weapon in the palm of my little hand, but he usually retained possession of it by a slight finger-and-thumb grip; and I always heaved a sigh of satisfaction, not unmixed with relief, when he lifted it, closed the blade with a click, and returned it to his sleeved-vest pocket.
When Nathan was thus employed in our garden he always had dinner with Betty in the kitchen. Betty's forte5 in the culinary department was broth6-making, and my mother used to say, with a smile, that when Nathan was her guest Betty always put her best foot foremost. Betty, with a blushing cheek, mildly repudiated7 the charge; and once, when in my presence my mother told Nathan of this, he blushed too, and to hide his confusion bent8 his head and tightened9 the trousers-straps10 under his knees.
Broth, with boiled beef and potatoes to follow, as a rule constituted Betty's menu on these occasions, and there was always a 'word' between them when the beef was served, as Nathan insisted on retaining his soup-plate from which to eat it, and to this Betty strenuously11 objected. She declared 'it wasna the thing;' but he retorted that 'that was possible, but it was aye ae plate less to wash, and he liked the broth brae wi' the barley12 piles in it, as it moistened the tatties.'
Immediately after his repast he retired13 to the stick-house; and there, seated on the chopping-log, he smoked his pipe in silence and meditation14 till the Auld15 Kirk clock chimed the hour of one.
Betty was no vocalist; but on those days when Nathan worked in our garden she indulged much in what, out of gallantry towards her, I may call sweet sounds. She had only one song—it is her sole musical possession still—and during the years I spent far from the friends and scenes of my boyhood, as often as I heard the familiar strains of 'The Farmer's Boy,' Betty's timmer rendering16 came homely17-like to my ear, and I saw a print-gowned, pensive-faced young woman subjecting newly washed delf to a vigorous rubbing, and watching through the kitchen window a big eident gardener turning over with gleaming spade the rich loamy garden soil.
My mind harks back on these little scraps18 of memory as I sit here in my bedroom listening to Betty's ceaseless prattle19 and Nathan's monosyllabic responses. He is the same gaunt, silent Nathan, only much grayer, and his short beard, fringe-like, now covers a chin which once was clean-shaven and ruddy. He still wears leather straps on his workaday trousers; and, though I haven't seen it, I am confident the keen-bladed gully is somewhere about the recesses20 of his ample pockets. And he is Betty's 'man,' and Betty is his busy, careful wife, and as such they sit together in that kitchen taking their meals off that self-same table, and looking out on that same garden which long ago was the scene of his periodical labours.
Sometimes of a morning I waken about five o'clock, and even thus early I hear Betty downstairs making preparations for Nathan's breakfast. I know full well from the different sounds how she is employed; and, in rotation22, I note the 'ripein' oot' of the previous evening's fire, the filling of the kettle from the kitchen tap, the opening and closing of the corner cupboard door, and the clatter23 of cups, plates, and cutlery. Then the merry song of the boiling kettle, the clink of the frying-pan on the crooks24, the sizzling of frying ham, the splutter of gravy-steeped eggs, and the drawing forward of white, well-scrubbed kitchen chairs.
I know, too, when Nathan has finished his meal, as he always puts his empty cup and saucer with a 'clank' into his bread-plate, gives a hard throat 'hoast,' backs his chair away from the table, and says 'Imphm! juist so!' very contentedly25 and cheerily. Soon the appetising aroma26 of fried ham and eggs, which has been all the time in my nostrils27, gives place to the more pungent28 smell of strong brown twist smoked through a clean clay pipe. This, however, is merely a whiff in passing, because Nathan 'stands not upon the order of his going,' and in clean-smelling corduroys and a cloud of fragrant29 pipe-reek he goes out into the early morning sunshine, closing the door with a lingering, hesitating turn of the handle, which, though gentle, seems loud and grating in the hush30 of the dawning day.
How I wish I could walk with him these beautiful fresh sunny mornings along the Carronbrig road! I follow him, alas31! in imagination only; and as he leaves the empty echoing street and passes under the leafy canopy32 of the Cundy Wood I feel the pure caller air on my brow, I listen to the hum of the bees in the limes, the sportive chatter33 of the sparrows in the bushes, the rich, full-throated melody of the blackbird and mavis from the wooded recesses of the Gillfoot—each feathered minstrel piping his own song in his own way, and all in unison34 singing their pæans of praise in their leafy, sun-kissed bowers35. Gossamer-webs, silvered with countless36 pearls of dew, stretch their glistening37 threads from leaf to leaf, and cover the shady side of the hawthorn38 hedgerows as with a gray-meshed silken veil. From rank, dewy grass humble39 blue-bells raise their heads, and nod good-morning to white and blue-red stately foxgloves standing40 sentinel o'er scarred red-earth banks and tangled41 bramble thickets42. Lowing cows, knee-deep in meadow grass and buttercups, with swishing tails and pawing forelegs, impatiently await the opening gate. And over all, on field and wood and hill and dale, lie the glorious rays of God's own sunshine, diffusing43 warmth and gladness, and filling nature anew with pulsing life.
The road lies broad and white before me, and I see Nathan's tall, gaunt figure passing Longmire Mains, and I know the smell of the sweet American gean is in his nostrils, and his gardener's eye is on the fronded44 hart's-tongue ferns which here and there peep from the crevices45 of the lichen-covered dike46; by Meadow Bank, where the purple bloom still crowns the spiked47 leaf branch of the rhododendron; on between the hollies48 and silver birches at Dabton; through the sleepy village of Carronbrig, where he is joined by moleskin-clad fellow-workers.
Staff in hand and pipe in mouth, at that regulation pace which is well known as 'the Duke's step,' each wends his way through the green turf holm, across the Nith by the stepping-stones, under the shadow of the ruin-crowned Tibbers mound49. As they near the scene of their daily darg, tobacco 'dottles' are paper-padded and made secure, pipes are deposited in sleeved-vest pockets, and where the white iron wicket clicks and admits them to the low-lying stretch of fairy garden plots and multi-coloured perfumed bowers I take my leave of them. God grant I may soon be able to see with the living eye, and feel with the nature-loving heart, the beauties and joys which now in imagination only are mine!
By degrees, and at rare intervals50, Betty has relieved her mind to me regarding Nathan. When I say 'relieved her mind,' I do not imply that there is anything in Nathan's conduct or any remissness51 in his mode of living which burdens Betty's thoughts. Far from it. Nathan is the best of husbands—appreciative, kind, steady, and considerate. His wages—to the uttermost farthing—are regularly given up to Betty's safe keeping. All his spare hours are devoted52 to the large garden, whose produce from January till December makes Betty's daily dinner of the bienest. Her slightest wish is a command which he obeys with cheerfulness and alacrity53, and the quiet and composure of his presence is, I know, her secret pride and mainstay. Yet she seems to be ever apologising for his being about, and in speaking of him to me she invariably refers to him as 'Nathan, puir falla,' with just the slightest suggestion of commiseration54 in her tone.
I wonder why this should be, and it is beginning to dawn upon me that Betty somehow imagines—wrongly, needless to say—that I look upon him as an intruder, something foreign to the element of our home-life of long ago; and, stranger still, I am conscious of that feeling in Nathan also. Though I have been resident here for over two weeks, and though he has cried upstairs to me every evening, he has only been twice in my room; and on both occasions he stood awkwardly at the door, holding on by the handle, and answering my questions with his head turned toward the landing. During the past week I have managed to limp my way downstairs, and on passing through the kitchen have stayed my steps to ca' the crack with him. But 'Yes, sir,' 'No, sir,' 'Ay, ay; imphm!' have so far been the sum-total of his contribution to the conversation. Some day, however, I know Nathan will thaw55; some day soon they will both know the high esteem56 in which I hold him. In due season he will rid himself of his backwardness and shyness, and I shall be glad, for his honest blue eye and his pleasing serenity57 appeal to me, and I feel I want a friend like Nathan Hebron.
To-night, after she had cleared away the remains58 of my homely supper, Betty sat down with her knitting at my little attic59 window. I have two pots of flowering musk60 and a lovely pelargonium in full bloom on my sill, and under pretence61 of procuring62 Nathan's advice as to their culture and well-being63 I inquired of Betty if she would ask him to come upstairs.
'Most certainly, Maister Weelum,' said she, with a pleasant nod; and she went out, returning a minute later with Nathan in her wake. I know he had been sitting in his easy-chair smoking in silence, with his stem-bonnet on and his shirt-sleeves rolled up, inactive, yet alert and ready to fulfil any of Betty's little behests; but at Betty's summons he had hastily donned a coat, and his head was bare.
After leisurely64 examining my plants and drawling out a few disjointed directions, he turned to go downstairs; but I motioned him to a seat, and, rather reluctantly, I thought, he sat down. I urged him to join me in a smoke, and offered him a fill of my Edinburgh mixture; but he declined my pouch65; and, taking out a deerskin spleuchan, he nipped a full inch of brown twist, teased it, rolled it in the palm of his rough, horny hand, and meditatively66 filled the bowl of his clay cutty.
Betty noticed my little act of civility; but she plied67 her needles in silence till Nathan had struck a light and begun smoking.
'Ay, Maister Weelum,' she said, as Nathan fitted the glowing bowl of his pipe with a perforated metal cover, 'thae fancy ready-cut tobaccos are no' much in the line o' oor Nathan, puir falla.'
'Is that so? Well, every man to his own taste; but, Betty, excuse my asking so personal a question, why do you always refer to your goodman here as "Nathan, puir falla"?'
Nathan looked surprisedly from me to Betty, and, after fumbling68 with his match-box, struck another light when there was no necessity to do so; while Betty laid her knitting on the table and thoughtfully pressed it out lengthwise with the palm of her open hand.
'When ye mention it, noo, I daur say I div say "puir falla,"' she answered; 'but, though I say that, I dinna mean it in ony temporal sense, Maister Weelum. So far as this world is concerned, I've got the very best man that ever lived; but'——and she looked at Nathan as if in doubt how to proceed.
Nathan blew pipe-reek most vigorously; then he turned round to me with a faint smile on his sober face, and he actually winked70. 'She's—she's sterted again, Maister Weelum,' he said with a side-nod toward Betty.
'Started what, Nathan?'
'Oh, the auld subject—imphm!'
'Ay,'—chimed in Betty, now sure of her opening, 'it's an auld subject, but it's ever a new yin, a' the same. "'Tis old, yet ever new," as the hymn-book has it. Ay, an' that is true. As I said before, Maister Weelum, I've nae concern regairdin' Nathan's welfare in this world. We're promised only bread an' water, an' look hoo often he gets tea an' chops, an' on what we ha'e saved there's every chance o' that diet bein' continued as lang as he has teeth to chew wi'. But what o' the next world? As Tammas Fraser aince said when he was takin' the Book, "Ah, that's where the rub comes in!"' and she shook her head dolefully, as much as to say, 'Nathan, you're a gone corbie!'
I looked from husband to wife in blank astonishment71, not knowing what to say. I had always looked upon Betty as a deeply religious woman, a true disciple72 of the Great Master, but partaking more of the loving John than the assertive73 Peter; and, often as I had heard her say a word in season, I could not remember having listened to her expressing so pointedly74 her fears and convictions.
She interpreted my thoughts aright; and after Nathan had, without necessity, sparked another match, and almost succeeded in turning toward us the full length and breadth of his long tankard back, she resumed.
'Your mother was a guid woman, Maister Weelum, an' I ken21 that often, often, you were the burden o' her prayers. I never talked much on this subject to you, kennin' that you were her ain particular chairge, an' that her prayers, withoot my interference, wad be answered. But it's different in the case o' Nathan here. He belangs to me, an' me to him. My calling an' election 's sure, an' I juist canna bide75 the thocht o' us bein' separated at the lang hinner-en'. It's no' that he 's a bad man—far from it. Or it 's no' that he 's careless. I gi'e him credit for bein' concerned in his ain wey; but he juist saunters on through life, trustin' that things will somewey work oot a' richt, an' lettin' the want, if there 's ony, come in at the wab's end. Ay, an' for a man like him, that 's sae fond o' flo'ers an' dogs an' ither folks' weans, it simply passes my comprehension hoo it is that he 's sae indifferent to the greatest o' a' love an' the things that so closely concern his immortal76 soul's salvation77. Nae wonder I say, "Nathan, puir falla."'
Notwithstanding the gravity of the charge she had laid at Nathan's door, I felt relieved to know that my surmises78 regarding the cause of his attitude toward me were unfounded; and, with a note of encouragement in my voice, I hinted to Betty that, after all, it was possible she was unnecessarily worrying herself, as with two advocates like her and my mother it would surely be well with both Nathan and me.
'Ah, Maister Weelum,' she said impressively, 'I ken fine that the prayers o' the just availeth much; but aye bear in mind—Nathan, are ye listenin'?—Ay—weel, bear in mind that every herrin' maun hing by its ain heid. Mind that, the twae o' ye noo.'
This direct personal appeal rather discomposed me, and I didn't know what to say. As for Nathan, he rose slowly from his chair, and, turning round, he solemnly winked to me again. That wink69 somehow sealed a compact between us. It placed us on a common platform, and established a feeling of camaraderie79 which it would be hard for me to define.
'Ay, Betty,' he said, as he raised himself to his full height, 'you're a wonderfu' woman—a wonderfu' woman!' and he yawned audibly; 'an' when it comes to gab80 wark on sic a subject as ye 've ta'en in haun', John Clerk the colporteur canna haud a cannel to ye. When ye stert on me like this I aye gi'e ye plenty o' rope, an' I never gi'e it a tug81; but ye 've gi'en me a gey tatterin' afore Maister Weelum here, an' I wad just like to put in my yelp82 noo.'
Betty gave him a surprised look, and I nodded and smiled encouragingly toward him.
'I don't misdoot,' he continued, after he had loosened his cravat83 at his throat, 'that there 's some truth in a few o' your remarks; but, dod, lass, dinna forget that I'm tryin' my best.'
'Weel, let me consider noo. Ay, I don't think I ha'e missed a day at the kirk since we were mairret. That's ae thing, onywey. Then we tak' the Beuk regularly; an' forby that, Betty,' he said impressively, 'I was five times at the prayer-meetin's wi' ye last year, and'——
'Prayer-meetin's!' said Betty; 'prayer-meetin's!' and she raised her voice. 'Nathan Hebron, I'm astonished ye ha'e the audacity85 to mention prayer-meetin's to me!'
'Hoo that, Betty?' he gravely asked.
'Hoo that? As if ye didna ken! My word, but that 's yin an' a half!—Do you know this Maister Weelum; I had to stop takin' him to to the prayer-meetin's, for he aye fell asleep. The last yin I took him to was at Mrs Kennedy's. Not only did he sleep, but he snored wi' his heid lyin' back an' his face to the ceilin'; an' when he waukened, it was in the middle o' a silent prayer, an' he glimmered87 an' blinked at the gaslicht, an' said he, wi' his een half-shut, "Betty, that 's rank wastery burnin' the gas when we 're in oor sleepin' bed." Ashamed? I was black affronted88, Maister Weelum, an' among sae mony earnest folk, too.'
Goodness knows, I hold no brief for Nathan, but I ventured to say on his behalf that, as he had been working in the open all day, and the room was quiet and warm, he was, in a way, to be excused if he unconsciously dovered.
'Ay, that's a' very weel; but I notice he never dovers, as ye ca' it, at an Oddfellows' soiree.'
Nathan had quietly slipped downstairs before she reached the end of her story, and in his absence she became confidential89 and communicative.
'I somewey think he means weel, but the road to hell is paved wi' guid intentions. He's maybe the best specimen90 of the natural man that I ken o'; but wae's me, that's no' sufficient. The seeds o' carelessness were sown lang before I kenned86 him; an' tho' I maun alloo he has improved in my haun', I see wee bit touches noo an' than o' the he'rt at enmity which sometimes mak' me despair. For instance, the ither Sabbath-day nae faurer gane, he sat doon efter his denner wi' a book, an' he looked neither to left nor richt, but read on and on. "Nathan," says I, "what's the book you're sae intent on?" "Oh, Betty," says he glibly91, weel kennin' that I didna gi'e in wi' orra readin' on the Lord's Day, "I've faun in wi' a splendid book the day. It's ca'ed Baxter's—eh—Saunts' Everlastin' Rest, an' it's the kind o' readin' I like." "Ay," says I, weel pleased wi' the soond o' the title, "read on at that, Nathan. Baxter's fu' o' rich refreshin' truths. Read slow noo, Nathan, an' tak' it a' in." Weel, he never put it oot o' his haun till bedtime, except when he was at his tea, an' then he slipped it into his coat-pocket; an' the next day, when he was away at his wark, I cam' on it stappit doon behin' the cushion o' his easy-chair; an' what think ye it was, Maister Weelum? Guess noo what it was.'
'Baxter's Saints' Everlasting92 Rest, of course,' I said.
'Weel,' said Betty, 'that was printed on the loose covers that had aince been the boards o' the holy volume o' that name; but the paper-covered book that was inside was The Experiences o' an Edinburgh Detective, by James MacGovan; an' d'ye ken this, Maister Weelum, I juist sat doon in the middle o' my wark an' grat my he'rt-fill.'
Poor, dear Betty, she wept anew at the remembrance of Nathan's lapse93, then rolled her knitting into her apron94, and went downstairs into the kitchen. Ten minutes later, when I was having my last pipe for the night, I heard her voice raised in the Beuk, and she was reading, with a point and emphasis which I am sure Nathan could not misunderstand, the story from the Acts of Ananias and his wife Sapphira.
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1
worthies
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| 应得某事物( worthy的名词复数 )； 值得做某事； 可尊敬的； 有（某人或事物）的典型特征 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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deft
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| adj.灵巧的，熟练的（a deft hand 能手） | |
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twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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forte
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| n.长处，擅长；adj.(音乐)强音的 | |
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broth
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| n.原(汁)汤(鱼汤、肉汤、菜汤等) | |
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7
repudiated
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| v.（正式地）否认( repudiate的过去式和过去分词 )；拒绝接受；拒绝与…往来；拒不履行（法律义务） | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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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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straps
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| n.带子( strap的名词复数 )；挎带；肩带；背带v.用皮带捆扎( strap的第三人称单数 )；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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strenuously
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| adv.奋发地，费力地 | |
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barley
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| n.大麦，大麦粒 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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auld
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| adj.老的，旧的 | |
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rendering
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| n.表现，描写 | |
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homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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prattle
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| n.闲谈；v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话；发出连续而无意义的声音 | |
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recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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ken
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| n.视野，知识领域 | |
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rotation
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| n.旋转；循环，轮流 | |
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clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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crooks
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| n.骗子( crook的名词复数 )；罪犯；弯曲部分；（牧羊人或主教用的）弯拐杖v.弯成钩形( crook的第三人称单数 ) | |
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contentedly
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| adv.心满意足地 | |
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aroma
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| n.香气，芬芳，芳香 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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pungent
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| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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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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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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unison
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| n.步调一致，行动一致 | |
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bowers
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| n.（女子的）卧室( bower的名词复数 )；船首锚；阴凉处；鞠躬的人 | |
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countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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hawthorn
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| 山楂 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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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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tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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thickets
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| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
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diffusing
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| （使光）模糊，漫射，漫散( diffuse的现在分词 )； （使）扩散； （使）弥漫； （使）传播 | |
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fronded
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| 前移的 | |
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crevices
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| n.（尤指岩石的）裂缝，缺口( crevice的名词复数 ) | |
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46
dike
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| n.堤，沟；v.开沟排水 | |
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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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hollies
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| n.冬青（常绿灌木，叶尖而硬，有光泽，冬季结红色浆果）( holly的名词复数 )；（用作圣诞节饰物的）冬青树枝 | |
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mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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51
remissness
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| n.玩忽职守；马虎；怠慢；不小心 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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commiseration
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| n.怜悯，同情 | |
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thaw
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| v.（使）融化，（使）变得友善；n.融化，缓和 | |
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esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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musk
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| n.麝香, 能发出麝香的各种各样的植物，香猫 | |
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pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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procuring
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的现在分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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well-being
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| n.安康，安乐，幸福 | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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pouch
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| n.小袋，小包，囊状袋；vt.装...入袋中，用袋运输；vi.用袋送信件 | |
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meditatively
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| adv.冥想地 | |
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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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fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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disciple
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| n.信徒，门徒，追随者 | |
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assertive
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| adj.果断的，自信的，有冲劲的 | |
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pointedly
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| adv.尖地，明显地 | |
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bide
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| v.忍耐；等候；住 | |
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immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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surmises
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的第三人称单数 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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camaraderie
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| n.同志之爱，友情 | |
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gab
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| v.空谈，唠叨，瞎扯；n.饶舌，多嘴，爱说话 | |
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tug
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| v.用力拖(或拉)；苦干；n.拖；苦干；拖船 | |
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yelp
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| vi.狗吠 | |
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83
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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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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audacity
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| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
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kenned
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| v.知道( ken的过去式和过去分词 )；懂得；看到；认出 | |
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glimmered
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| v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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affronted
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| adj.被侮辱的，被冒犯的v.勇敢地面对( affront的过去式和过去分词 )；相遇 | |
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confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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glibly
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| adv.流利地，流畅地；满口 | |
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everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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