So, one day, as I hoisted9 sail on my skiff, I met Scotty. He was a husky youngster of seventeen, a runaway10 apprentice11, he told me, from an English ship in Australia. He had just worked his way on another ship to San Francisco; and now he wanted to see about getting a berth12 on a whaler. Across the estuary, near where the whalers lay, was lying the sloop13-yacht Idler. The caretaker was a harpooner14 who intended sailing next voyage on the whale ship Bonanza15. Would I take him, Scotty, over in my skiff to call upon the harpooner?
Would I! Hadn't I heard the stories and rumours16 about the Idler?—the big sloop that had come up from the Sandwich Islands where it had been engaged in smuggling18 opium19. And the harpooner who was caretaker! How often had I seen him and envied him his freedom. He never had to leave the water. He slept aboard the Idler each night, while I had to go home upon the land to go to bed. The harpooner was only nineteen years old (and I have never had anything but his own word that he was a harpooner); but he had been too shining and glorious a personality for me ever to address as I paddled around the yacht at a wistful distance. Would I take Scotty, the runaway sailor, to visit the harpooner, on the opium-smuggler20 Idler? WOULD I!
The harpooner came on deck to answer our hail, and invited us aboard. I played the sailor and the man, fending21 off the skiff so that it would not mar23 the yacht's white paint, dropping the skiff astern on a long painter, and making the painter fast with two nonchalant half-hitches.
We went below. It was the first sea-interior I had ever seen. The clothing on the wall smelled musty. But what of that? Was it not the sea-gear of men?—leather jackets lined with corduroy, blue coats of pilot cloth, sou'westers, sea-boots, oilskins. And everywhere was in evidence the economy of space—the narrow bunks24, the swinging tables, the incredible lockers26. There were the tell-tale compass, the sea-lamps in their gimbals, the blue-backed charts carelessly rolled and tucked away, the signal-flags in alphabetical27 order, and a mariner's dividers jammed into the woodwork to hold a calendar. At last I was living. Here I sat, inside my first ship, a smuggler, accepted as a comrade by a harpooner and a runaway English sailor who said his name was Scotty.
The first thing that the harpooner, aged17 nineteen, and the sailor, aged seventeen, did to show that they were men was to behave like men. The harpooner suggested the eminent28 desirableness of a drink, and Scotty searched his pockets for dimes29 and nickels. Then the harpooner carried away a pink flask30 to be filled in some blind pig, for there were no licensed31 saloons in that locality. We drank the cheap rotgut out of tumblers. Was I any the less strong, any the less valiant32, than the harpooner and the sailor? They were men. They proved it by the way they drank. Drink was the badge of manhood. So I drank with them, drink by drink, raw and straight, though the damned stuff couldn't compare with a stick of chewing taffy or a delectable33 "cannon-ball." I shuddered34 and swallowed my gorge35 with every drink, though I manfully hid all such symptoms.
Divers36 times we filled the flask that afternoon. All I had was twenty cents, but I put it up like a man, though with secret regret at the enormous store of candy it could have bought. The liquor mounted in the heads of all of us, and the talk of Scotty and the harpooner was upon running the Easting down, gales37 off the Horn and pamperos off the Plate, lower topsail breezes, southerly busters, North Pacific gales, and of smashed whaleboats in the Arctic ice.
"You can't swim in that ice water," said the harpooner confidentially38 to me. "You double up in a minute and go down. When a whale smashes your boat, the thing to do is to get your belly39 across an oar4, so that when the cold doubles you you'll float."
"Sure," I said, with a grateful nod and an air of certitude that I, too, would hunt whales and be in smashed boats in the Arctic Ocean. And, truly, I registered his advice as singularly valuable information, and filed it away in my brain, where it persists to this day.
But I couldn't talk—at first. Heavens! I was only fourteen, and had never been on the ocean in my life. I could only listen to the two sea-dogs, and show my manhood by drinking with them, fairly and squarely, drink and drink.
The liquor worked its will with me; the talk of Scotty and the harpooner poured through the pent space of the Idler's cabin and through my brain like great gusts40 of wide, free wind; and in imagination I lived my years to come and rocked over the wild, mad, glorious world on multitudinous adventures.
We unbent. Our inhibitions and taciturnities vanished. We were as if we had known each other for years and years, and we pledged ourselves to years of future voyagings together. The harpooner told of misadventures and secret shames. Scotty wept over his poor old mother in Edinburgh—a lady, he insisted, gently born—who was in reduced circumstances, who had pinched herself to pay the lump sum to the ship-owners for his apprenticeship41, whose sacrificing dream had been to see him a merchantman officer and a gentleman, and who was heartbroken because he had deserted42 his ship in Australia and joined another as a common sailor before the mast. And Scotty proved it. He drew her last sad letter from his pocket and wept over it as he read it aloud. The harpooner and I wept with him, and swore that all three of us would ship on the whaleship Bonanza, win a big pay-day, and, still together, make a pilgrimage to Edinburgh and lay our store of money in the dear lady's lap.
And, as John Barleycorn heated his way into my brain, thawing43 my reticence44, melting my modesty45, talking through me and with me and as me, my adopted twin brother and alter ego46, I, too, raised my voice to show myself a man and an adventurer, and bragged48 in detail and at length of how I had crossed San Francisco Bay in my open skiff in a roaring southwester when even the schooner49 sailors doubted my exploit. Further, I—or John Barleycorn, for it was the same thing—told Scotty that he might be a deep-sea sailor and know the last rope on the great deep-sea ships, but that when it came to small-boat sailing I could beat him hands down and sail circles around him.
The best of it was that my assertion and brag47 were true. With reticence and modesty present, I could never have dared tell Scotty my small-boat estimate of him. But it is ever the way of John Barleycorn to loosen the tongue and babble50 the secret thought.
Scotty, or John Barleycorn, or the pair, was very naturally offended by my remarks. Nor was I loath51. I could whip any runaway sailor seventeen years old. Scotty and I flared52 and raged like young cockerels, until the harpooner poured another round of drinks to enable us to forgive and make up. Which we did, arms around each other's necks, protesting vows53 of eternal friendship—just like Black Matt and Tom Morrisey, I remembered, in the ranch54 kitchen in San Mateo. And, remembering, I knew that I was at last a man—despite my meagre fourteen years—a man as big and manly55 as those two strapping56 giants who had quarrelled and made up on that memorable57 Sunday morning of long ago.
By this time the singing stage was reached, and I joined Scotty and the harpooner in snatches of sea songs and chanties. It was here, in the cabin of the Idler, that I first heard "Blow the Man Down," "Flying Cloud," and "Whisky, Johnny, Whisky." Oh, it was brave. I was beginning to grasp the meaning of life. Here was no commonplace, no Oakland Estuary, no weary round of throwing newspapers at front doors, delivering ice, and setting up ninepins. All the world was mine, all its paths were under my feet, and John Barleycorn, tricking my fancy, enabled me to anticipate the life of adventure for which I yearned58.
We were not ordinary. We were three tipsy young gods, incredibly wise, gloriously genial59, and without limit to our powers. Ah!—and I say it now, after the years—could John Barleycorn keep one at such a height, I should never draw a sober breath again. But this is not a world of free freights. One pays according to an iron schedule—for every strength the balanced weakness; for every high a corresponding low; for every fictitious60 god-like moment an equivalent time in reptilian61 slime. For every feat62 of telescoping long days and weeks of life into mad magnificent instants, one must pay with shortened life, and, oft-times, with savage63 usury64 added.
Intenseness and duration are as ancient enemies as fire and water. They are mutually destructive. They cannot co-exist. And John Barleycorn, mighty65 necromancer66 though he be, is as much a slave to organic chemistry as we mortals are. We pay for every nerve marathon we run, nor can John Barleycorn intercede67 and fend22 off the just payment. He can lead us to the heights, but he cannot keep us there, else would we all be devotees. And there is no devotee but pays for the mad dances John Barleycorn pipes.
Yet the foregoing is all in after wisdom spoken. It was no part of the knowledge of the lad, fourteen years old, who sat in the Idler's cabin between the harpooner and the sailor, the air rich in his nostrils68 with the musty smell of men's sea-gear, roaring in chorus: "Yankee ship come down de ribber—pull, my bully69 boys, pull!"
We grew maudlin70, and all talked and shouted at once. I had a splendid constitution, a stomach that would digest scrap-iron, and I was still running my marathon in full vigour71 when Scotty began to fail and fade. His talk grew incoherent. He groped for words and could not find them, while the ones he found his lips were unable to form. His poisoned consciousness was leaving him. The brightness went out of his eyes, and he looked as stupid as were his efforts to talk. His face and body sagged72 as his consciousness sagged. (A man cannot sit upright save by an act of will.) Scotty's reeling brain could not control his muscles. All his correlations73 were breaking down. He strove to take another drink, and feebly dropped the tumbler on the floor. Then, to my amazement74, weeping bitterly, he rolled into a bunk25 on his back and immediately snored off to sleep.
The harpooner and I drank on, grinning in a superior way to each other over Scotty's plight75. The last flask was opened, and we drank it between us, to the accompaniment of Scotty's stertorous76 breathing. Then the harpooner faded away into his bunk, and I was left alone, unthrown, on the field of battle.
I was very proud, and John Barleycorn was proud with me. I could carry my drink. I was a man. I had drunk two men, drink for drink, into unconsciousness. And I was still on my two feet, upright, making my way on deck to get air into my scorching77 lungs. It was in this bout1 on the Idler that I discovered what a good stomach and a strong head I had for drink—a bit of knowledge that was to be a source of pride in succeeding years, and that ultimately I was to come to consider a great affliction. The fortunate man is the one who cannot take more than a couple of drinks without becoming intoxicated78. The unfortunate wight is the one who can take many glasses without betraying a sign, who must take numerous glasses in order to get the "kick."
The sun was setting when I came on the Idler's deck. There were plenty of bunks below. I did not need to go home. But I wanted to demonstrate to myself how much I was a man. There lay my skiff astern. The last of a strong ebb79 was running out in channel in the teeth of an ocean breeze of forty miles an hour. I could see the stiff whitecaps, and the suck and run of the current was plainly visible in the face and trough of each one.
I set sail, cast off, took my place at the tiller, the sheet in my hand, and headed across channel. The skiff heeled over and plunged80 into it madly. The spray began to fly. I was at the pinnacle81 of exaltation. I sang "Blow the Man Down" as I sailed. I was no boy of fourteen, living the mediocre82 ways of the sleepy town called Oakland. I was a man, a god, and the very elements rendered me allegiance as I bitted them to my will.
The tide was out. A full hundred yards of soft mud intervened between the boat-wharf and the water. I pulled up my centreboard, ran full tilt83 into the mud, took in sail, and, standing84 in the stern, as I had often done at low tide, I began to shove the skiff with an oar. It was then that my correlations began to break down. I lost my balance and pitched head-foremost into the ooze85. Then, and for the first time, as I floundered to my feet covered with slime, the blood running down my arms from a scrape against a barnacled stake, I knew that I was drunk. But what of it? Across the channel two strong sailormen lay unconscious in their bunks where I had drunk them. I WAS a man. I was still on my legs, if they were knee-deep in mud. I disdained86 to get back into the skiff. I waded87 through the mud, shoving the skiff before me and yammering the chant of my manhood to the world.
I paid for it. I was sick for a couple of days, meanly sick, and my arms were painfully poisoned from the barnacle scratches. For a week I could not use them, and it was a torture to put on and take off my clothes.
I swore, "Never again!" The game wasn't worth it. The price was too stiff. I had no moral qualms88. My revulsion was purely89 physical. No exalted90 moments were worth such hours of misery91 and wretchedness. When I got back to my skiff, I shunned92 the Idler. I would cross the opposite side of the channel to go around her. Scotty had disappeared. The harpooner was still about, but him I avoided. Once, when he landed on the boat-wharf, I hid in a shed so as to escape seeing him. I was afraid he would propose some more drinking, maybe have a flask full of whisky in his pocket.
And yet—and here enters the necromancy93 of John Barleycorn—that afternoon's drunk on the Idler had been a purple passage flung into the monotony of my days. It was memorable. My mind dwelt on it continually. I went over the details, over and over again. Among other things, I had got into the cogs and springs of men's actions. I had seen Scotty weep about his own worthlessness and the sad case of his Edinburgh mother who was a lady. The harpooner had told me terribly wonderful things of himself. I had caught a myriad94 enticing95 and inflammatory hints of a world beyond my world, and for which I was certainly as fitted as the two lads who had drunk with me. I had got behind men's souls. I had got behind my own soul and found unguessed potencies96 and greatnesses.
Yes, that day stood out above all my other days. To this day it so stands out. The memory of it is branded in my brain. But the price exacted was too high. I refused to play and pay, and returned to my cannon-balls and taffy-slabs. The point is that all the chemistry of my healthy, normal body drove me away from alcohol. The stuff didn't agree with me. It was abominable97. But, despite this, circumstance was to continue to drive me toward John Barleycorn, to drive me again and again, until, after long years, the time should come when I would look up John Barleycorn in every haunt of men—look him up and hail him gladly as benefactor98 and friend. And detest99 and hate him all the time. Yes, he is a strange friend, John Barleycorn.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
bout
|
|
| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
bouts
|
|
| n.拳击（或摔跤）比赛( bout的名词复数 )；一段（工作）；（尤指坏事的）一通；（疾病的）发作 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
isles
|
|
| 岛( isle的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
oar
|
|
| n.桨，橹，划手；v.划行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
estuary
|
|
| n.河口，江口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
adolescence
|
|
| n.青春期，青少年 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
warp
|
|
| vt.弄歪，使翘曲，使不正常，歪曲，使有偏见 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
entangled
|
|
| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
hoisted
|
|
| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
runaway
|
|
| n.逃走的人，逃亡，亡命者；adj.逃亡的，逃走的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
apprentice
|
|
| n.学徒，徒弟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
berth
|
|
| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
sloop
|
|
| n.单桅帆船 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
harpooner
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
bonanza
|
|
| n.富矿带，幸运，带来好运的事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
rumours
|
|
| n.传闻( rumour的名词复数 )；风闻；谣言；谣传 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
aged
|
|
| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
smuggling
|
|
| n.走私 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
opium
|
|
| n.鸦片；adj.鸦片的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
smuggler
|
|
| n.走私者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
fending
|
|
| v.独立生活，照料自己( fend的现在分词 )；挡开，避开 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
fend
|
|
| v.照料（自己），（自己）谋生，挡开，避开 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
mar
|
|
| vt.破坏，毁坏，弄糟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
bunks
|
|
| n.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的名词复数 )；空话，废话v.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的第三人称单数 )；空话，废话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
bunk
|
|
| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
lockers
|
|
| n.寄物柜( locker的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
alphabetical
|
|
| adj.字母（表）的，依字母顺序的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
eminent
|
|
| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
dimes
|
|
| n.（美国、加拿大的）10分铸币( dime的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
flask
|
|
| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
licensed
|
|
| adj.得到许可的v.许可，颁发执照(license的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
valiant
|
|
| adj.勇敢的，英勇的；n.勇士，勇敢的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
delectable
|
|
| adj.使人愉快的；美味的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
shuddered
|
|
| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
gorge
|
|
| n.咽喉，胃，暴食，山峡；v.塞饱，狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
divers
|
|
| adj.不同的；种种的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
gales
|
|
| 龙猫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
confidentially
|
|
| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
belly
|
|
| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
gusts
|
|
| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
apprenticeship
|
|
| n.学徒身份；学徒期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
thawing
|
|
| n.熔化，融化v.（气候）解冻( thaw的现在分词 )；（态度、感情等）缓和；（冰、雪及冷冻食物）溶化；软化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
reticence
|
|
| n.沉默，含蓄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
modesty
|
|
| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
ego
|
|
| n.自我，自己，自尊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
brag
|
|
| v./n.吹牛，自夸；adj.第一流的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
bragged
|
|
| v.自夸，吹嘘( brag的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
schooner
|
|
| n.纵帆船 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
babble
|
|
| v.含糊不清地说，胡言乱语地说，儿语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
loath
|
|
| adj.不愿意的；勉强的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
Flared
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
vows
|
|
| 誓言( vow的名词复数 )； 郑重宣布，许愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
ranch
|
|
| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
manly
|
|
| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
strapping
|
|
| adj. 魁伟的, 身材高大健壮的 n. 皮绳或皮带的材料, 裹伤胶带, 皮鞭 动词strap的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
memorable
|
|
| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
yearned
|
|
| 渴望，切盼，向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
genial
|
|
| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
fictitious
|
|
| adj.虚构的，假设的；空头的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
reptilian
|
|
| adj.（像）爬行动物的；（像）爬虫的；卑躬屈节的；卑鄙的n.两栖动物；卑劣的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
feat
|
|
| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
savage
|
|
| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
usury
|
|
| n.高利贷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
necromancer
|
|
| n. 巫师 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
intercede
|
|
| vi.仲裁，说情 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
nostrils
|
|
| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
bully
|
|
| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
maudlin
|
|
| adj.感情脆弱的，爱哭的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
vigour
|
|
| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
sagged
|
|
| 下垂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
correlations
|
|
| 相互的关系( correlation的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
amazement
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
plight
|
|
| n.困境，境况，誓约，艰难；vt.宣誓，保证，约定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
stertorous
|
|
| adj.打鼾的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
scorching
|
|
| adj. 灼热的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
intoxicated
|
|
| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
ebb
|
|
| vi.衰退，减退；n.处于低潮，处于衰退状态 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
plunged
|
|
| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
pinnacle
|
|
| n.尖塔，尖顶，山峰；(喻)顶峰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
mediocre
|
|
| adj.平常的，普通的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
tilt
|
|
| v.(使)倾侧；(使)倾斜；n.倾侧；倾斜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
ooze
|
|
| n.软泥，渗出物；vi.渗出，泄漏；vt.慢慢渗出，流露 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
disdained
|
|
| 鄙视( disdain的过去式和过去分词 )； 不屑于做，不愿意做 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
waded
|
|
| （从水、泥等）蹚，走过，跋( wade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
qualms
|
|
| n.不安；内疚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
purely
|
|
| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
exalted
|
|
| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
misery
|
|
| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
shunned
|
|
| v.避开，回避，避免( shun的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
necromancy
|
|
| n.巫术；通灵术 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
myriad
|
|
| adj.无数的；n.无数，极大数量 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
enticing
|
|
| adj.迷人的；诱人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
potencies
|
|
| n.威力( potency的名词复数 )；权力；效力；（男人的）性交能力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
abominable
|
|
| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
benefactor
|
|
| n. 恩人，行善的人，捐助人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
detest
|
|
| vt.痛恨，憎恶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |