Eric’s pupils had gone home an hour before, but he had stayed to solve some algebra2 problems, and correct some Latin exercises for his advanced students.
The sun was slanting3 in warm yellow lines through the thick grove4 of maples5 to the west of the building, and the dim green air beneath them burst into golden bloom. A couple of sheep were nibbling7 the lush grass in a far corner of the play-ground; a cow-bell, somewhere in the maple6 woods, tinkled8 faintly and musically, on the still crystal air, which, in spite of its blandness9, still retained a touch of the wholesome10 austerity and poignancy11 of a Canadian spring. The whole world seemed to have fallen, for the time being, into a pleasant untroubled dream.
The scene was very peaceful and pastoral—almost too much so, the young man thought, with a shrug12 of his shoulders, as he stood in the worn steps and gazed about him. How was he going to put in a whole month here, he wondered, with a little smile at his own expense.
“Father would chuckle13 if he knew I was sick of it already,” he thought, as he walked across the play-ground to the long red road that ran past the school. “Well, one week is ended, at any rate. I’ve earned my own living for five whole days, and that is something I could never say before in all my twenty-four years of existence. It is an exhilarating thought. But teaching the Lindsay district school is distinctly NOT exhilarating—at least in such a well-behaved school as this, where the pupils are so painfully good that I haven’t even the traditional excitement of thrashing obstreperous14 bad boys. Everything seems to go by clock work in Lindsay educational institution. Larry must certainly have possessed15 a marked gift for organizing and drilling. I feel as if I were merely a big cog in an orderly machine that ran itself. However, I understand that there are some pupils who haven’t shown up yet, and who, according to all reports, have not yet had the old Adam totally drilled out of them. They may make things more interesting. Also a few more compositions, such as John Reid’s, would furnish some spice to professional life.”
Eric’s laughter wakened the echoes as he swung into the road down the long sloping hill. He had given his fourth grade pupils their own choice of subjects in the composition class that morning, and John Reid, a sober, matter-of-fact little urchin16, with not the slightest embryonic17 development of a sense of humour, had, acting18 upon the whispered suggestion of a roguish desk-mate, elected to write upon “Courting.” His opening sentence made Eric’s face twitch19 mutinously20 whenever he recalled it during the day. “Courting is a very pleasant thing which a great many people go too far with.”
The distant hills and wooded uplands were tremulous and aerial in delicate spring-time gauzes of pearl and purple. The young, green-leafed maples crowded thickly to the very edge of the road on either side, but beyond them were emerald fields basking21 in sunshine, over which cloud shadows rolled, broadened, and vanished. Far below the fields a calm ocean slept bluely, and sighed in its sleep, with the murmur22 that rings for ever in the ear of those whose good fortune it is to have been born within the sound of it.
Now and then Eric met some callow, check-shirted, bare-legged lad on horseback, or a shrewd-faced farmer in a cart, who nodded and called out cheerily, “Howdy, Master?” A young girl, with a rosy23, oval face, dimpled cheeks, and pretty dark eyes filled with shy coquetry, passed him, looking as if she would not be at all averse24 to a better acquaintance with the new teacher.
Half way down the hill Eric met a shambling, old gray horse drawing an express wagon25 which had seen better days. The driver was a woman: she appeared to be one of those drab-tinted26 individuals who can never have felt a rosy emotion in all their lives. She stopped her horse, and beckoned27 Eric over to her with the knobby handle of a faded and bony umbrella.
“Reckon you’re the new Master, ain’t you?” she asked.
Eric admitted that he was.
“Well, I’m glad to see you,” she said, offering him a hand in a much darned cotton glove that had once been black.
“I was right sorry to see Mr. West go, for he was a right good teacher, and as harmless, inoffensive a creetur as ever lived. But I always told him every time I laid eyes on him that he was in consumption, if ever a man was. YOU look real healthy—though you can’t aways tell by looks, either. I had a brother complected like you, but he was killed in a railroad accident out west when he was real young.
“I’ve got a boy I’ll be sending to school to you next week. He’d oughter gone this week, but I had to keep him home to help me put the pertaters in; for his father won’t work and doesn’t work and can’t be made to work.
“Sandy—his full name is Edward Alexander—called after both his grandfathers—hates the idee of going to school worse ‘n pisen—always did. But go he shall, for I’m determined28 he’s got to have more larning hammered into his head yet. I reckon you’ll have trouble with him, Master, for he’s as stupid as an owl29, and as stubborn as Solomon’s mule30. But mind this, Master, I’ll back you up. You just lick Sandy good and plenty when he needs it, and send me a scrape of the pen home with him, and I’ll give him another dose.
“There’s people that always sides in with their young ones when there’s any rumpus kicked up in the school, but I don’t hold to that, and never did. You can depend on Rebecca Reid every time, Master.”
“Thank you. I am sure I can,” said Eric, in his most winning tones.
He kept his face straight until it was safe to relax, and Mrs. Reid drove on with a soft feeling in her leathery old heart, which had been so toughened by long endurance of poverty and toil31, and a husband who wouldn’t work and couldn’t be made to work, that it was no longer a very susceptible32 organ where members of the opposite sex were concerned.
Mrs. Reid reflected that this young man had a way with him.
Eric already knew most of the Lindsay folks by sight; but at the foot of the hill he met two people, a man and a boy, whom he did not know. They were sitting in a shabby, old-fashioned wagon, and were watering their horse at the brook33, which gurgled limpidly34 under the little plank bridge in the hollow.
Eric surveyed them with some curiosity. They did not look in the least like the ordinary run of Lindsay people. The boy, in particular, had a distinctly foreign appearance, in spite of the gingham shirt and homespun trousers, which seemed to be the regulation, work-a-day outfit35 for the Lindsay farmer lads. He had a lithe36, supple37 body, with sloping shoulders, and a lean, satiny brown throat above his open shirt collar. His head was covered with thick, silky, black curls, and the hand that hung down by the side of the wagon was unusually long and slender. His face was richly, though somewhat heavily featured, olive tinted, save for the cheeks, which had a dusky crimson38 bloom. His mouth was as red and beguiling39 as a girl’s, and his eyes were large, bold and black. All in all, he was a strikingly handsome fellow; but the expression of his face was sullen40, and he somehow gave Eric the impression of a sinuous41, feline42 creature basking in lazy grace, but ever ready for an unexpected spring.
The other occupant of the wagon was a man between sixty-five and seventy, with iron-gray hair, a long, full, gray beard, a harsh-featured face, and deep-set hazel eyes under bushy, bristling43 brows. He was evidently tall, with a spare, ungainly figure, and stooping shoulders. His mouth was close-lipped and relentless44, and did not look as if it had ever smiled. Indeed, the idea of smiling could not be connected with this man—it was utterly45 incongruous. Yet there was nothing repellent about his face; and there was something in it that compelled Eric’s attention.
He rather prided himself on being a student of physiognomy, and he felt quite sure that this man was no ordinary Lindsay farmer of the genial46, garrulous47 type with which he was familiar.
Long after the old wagon, with its oddly assorted48 pair, had gone lumbering49 up the hill, Eric found himself thinking of the stern, heavy browed man and the black-eyed, red-lipped boy.
点击收听单词发音
1 plank | |
n.板条,木板,政策要点,政纲条目 | |
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2 algebra | |
n.代数学 | |
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3 slanting | |
倾斜的,歪斜的 | |
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4 grove | |
n.林子,小树林,园林 | |
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5 maples | |
槭树,枫树( maple的名词复数 ); 槭木 | |
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6 maple | |
n.槭树,枫树,槭木 | |
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7 nibbling | |
v.啃,一点一点地咬(吃)( nibble的现在分词 );啃出(洞),一点一点咬出(洞);慢慢减少;小口咬 | |
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8 tinkled | |
(使)发出丁当声,(使)发铃铃声( tinkle的过去式和过去分词 ); 叮当响着发出,铃铃响着报出 | |
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9 blandness | |
n.温柔,爽快 | |
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10 wholesome | |
adj.适合;卫生的;有益健康的;显示身心健康的 | |
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11 poignancy | |
n.辛酸事,尖锐 | |
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12 shrug | |
v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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13 chuckle | |
vi./n.轻声笑,咯咯笑 | |
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14 obstreperous | |
adj.喧闹的,不守秩序的 | |
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15 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
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16 urchin | |
n.顽童;海胆 | |
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17 embryonic | |
adj.胚胎的 | |
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18 acting | |
n.演戏,行为,假装;adj.代理的,临时的,演出用的 | |
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19 twitch | |
v.急拉,抽动,痉挛,抽搐;n.扯,阵痛,痉挛 | |
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20 mutinously | |
adv.反抗地,叛变地 | |
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21 basking | |
v.晒太阳,取暖( bask的现在分词 );对…感到乐趣;因他人的功绩而出名;仰仗…的余泽 | |
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22 murmur | |
n.低语,低声的怨言;v.低语,低声而言 | |
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23 rosy | |
adj.美好的,乐观的,玫瑰色的 | |
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24 averse | |
adj.厌恶的;反对的,不乐意的 | |
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25 wagon | |
n.四轮马车,手推车,面包车;无盖运货列车 | |
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26 tinted | |
adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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27 beckoned | |
v.(用头或手的动作)示意,召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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28 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
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29 owl | |
n.猫头鹰,枭 | |
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30 mule | |
n.骡子,杂种,执拗的人 | |
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31 toil | |
vi.辛劳工作,艰难地行动;n.苦工,难事 | |
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32 susceptible | |
adj.过敏的,敏感的;易动感情的,易受感动的 | |
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33 brook | |
n.小河,溪;v.忍受,容让 | |
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34 limpidly | |
adv.清澈地,透明地 | |
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35 outfit | |
n.(为特殊用途的)全套装备,全套服装 | |
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36 lithe | |
adj.(指人、身体)柔软的,易弯的 | |
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37 supple | |
adj.柔软的,易弯的,逢迎的,顺从的,灵活的;vt.使柔软,使柔顺,使顺从;vi.变柔软,变柔顺 | |
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38 crimson | |
n./adj.深(绯)红色(的);vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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39 beguiling | |
adj.欺骗的,诱人的v.欺骗( beguile的现在分词 );使陶醉;使高兴;消磨(时间等) | |
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40 sullen | |
adj.愠怒的,闷闷不乐的,(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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41 sinuous | |
adj.蜿蜒的,迂回的 | |
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42 feline | |
adj.猫科的 | |
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43 bristling | |
a.竖立的 | |
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44 relentless | |
adj.残酷的,不留情的,无怜悯心的 | |
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45 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
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46 genial | |
adj.亲切的,和蔼的,愉快的,脾气好的 | |
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47 garrulous | |
adj.唠叨的,多话的 | |
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48 assorted | |
adj.各种各样的,各色俱备的 | |
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49 lumbering | |
n.采伐林木 | |
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