The Gordons assembled for breakfast early on Sunday morning. Miss Gordon saw that the Sabbath was strictly7 kept, but she believed the idea of rest might be carried to indulgence, especially with young people. So, on this particular morning, breakfast was at the usual hour. Indeed, it was a little early, owing to the fact that Sarah Emily, rejoiced at her reunion with the family, had arisen betimes and broken the Sabbath by making a fine batch8 of breakfast biscuits. Sarah Emily always sang at her work and had aroused the household, and brought down the stern displeasure of Miss Gordon, who forbade the unholy viands9 to be brought to the table.
The young Gordons assembled, sniffing10 hungrily and regretfully at the pleasant odor. Sarah Emily caught their glances and made a sympathetic grimace11.
Mary giggled12, but Elizabeth looked severe. She was in her best Sabbath mood and felt that Sarah Emily was not at all genteel, nor Mary either. It really gave one such a nice feeling to know one was genteel. Involuntarily she glanced at her aunt for approbation14. But Aunt Margaret was looking at Annie, with a strange expression in her eyes, an almost apologetic look Elizabeth would have thought if Aunt Margaret could ever have been in such a mood. But that was quite impossible with one who was always right. She was looking particularly handsome this morning in her black silk dress, with her jet earrings15, and the knot of white lace at her throat. Elizabeth gazed at her in profound admiration16, and then at Annie with some anxiety. Annie was looking pale this morning. Elizabeth wished she had not given away all her maple17 sugar to the little boys last night; a bite might have been such a comfort to poor Annie, and she was looking sadly in need of comfort.
When the plates of oatmeal porridge and the big pile of bread-and-butter had disappeared, Annie handed her father his Bible and psalm18-book and they all joined in family worship. The little ceremony opened with the singing of a paraphrase19:
"O God of Bethel, by whose Hand
Thy people still are fed."
The windows were open and the breath of the apple-blossoms came floating in. The bees, droning over the honey-suckle in the garden below, and the song sparrow on the cherry-bough above, both joined in the hymn20 to the great Father who had made the beautiful world.
Then Mr. Gordon read a chapter; a wonderful chapter, Elizabeth felt. She was in perfect accord with the beauty and peace of the Sabbath Day and every word went to her heart:
"The wilderness21 and the solitary22 place shall be glad for them; and the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose. It shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice even with joy and singing. The glory of Lebanon shall be given unto it, the excellency of Carmel and Sharon——"
Elizabeth had no idea of its meaning, but its beauty, with some vague hint of its eternal promise of love and joy, made her child's heart swell23. She was dismayed to feel her eyes beginning to smart with the rising tears. She did not guess why, but she could have cried out with both joy and pain at the majestic24 triumph of the close:
"And the ransomed25 of the Lord shall return and come to Zion with songs and everlasting26 joy upon their heads. They shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away."
She struggled with her tears. If John should see them! He would wonder why she was crying, and she could never tell him. John would not understand. That was the tragedy of Elizabeth's life. One could never tell things, for nobody understood.
She was relieved when they knelt in prayer and she could hide her tears in a corner of the old sofa. Prayers were very much longer on Sundays than on other mornings, but, though the boys might fidget a little, the most active member of the family never moved. Elizabeth's soul was carried away far above any bodily discomfort. But not even the smallest Gordon made a sound. There had been a dreadful day once when Jamie and Archie, kneeling at one chair with their heads together, had been caught red-handed playing "Put your finger in the crow's nest"; but since then their aunt had knelt between them and the crime had not been repeated.
Prayers ended, and the few household duties attended to, Mr. Gordon shut himself in his study, and the children sat out on the side-porch and studied their Sunday-school lesson, their catechism, and their portion of the 119th Psalm, which Miss Gordon had given them to memorize.
Elizabeth had no trouble with her Golden Text or the Psalm, but the catechism was an insupportable burden. She was always appearing with it before her aunt, certain she could "say it now," only to turn away in disgrace. She sat on the green bench beside John and droned over her allotted28 portion. John was far ahead wrestling with What is required in the commandments, while poor Elizabeth plodded29 behind, struggling with the question as to Wherein consisted the sinfulness of that estate whereinto man fell. She rhymed over the profound words in a meaningless jargon31:
"The sinfulness of that estate whereunto man fell, consists in the guilt32 of Adam's first sin, the want of original righteousness, and the corruption33 of his whole nature, which is commonly called original sin, together with all actual transgressions34 which proceed from it."
She strove to keep her mind upon it, but the exaltation of the prayer-time had passed, and the vision of Mrs. Jarvis obtruded35 itself on her Sabbath thoughts. She drove it away—as with tightly-shut eyes and wrinkled brow and swaying body she attempted to get through the answer unaided. But she stuck fast at "the want of original righteousness" and again at "original sin," and was stumbling blindly over "all actual transgressions" when there came a wicked whisper in her ear.
Elizabeth's eyes flew open, and the sinfulness of man's estate flew away. John had turned his grave face towards her, lit up with a quick smile. Elizabeth flashed back at him the same smile, a sudden gleam of white even teeth in a rather generous red mouth. Brother and sister were very much alike in their smiles, but only here, for John's face was solemn almost to dourness37, while Elizabeth's countenance38 was full of light and animation39.
"The Rowdy" was enough to provoke laughter even on the Sabbath and under Aunt Margaret's nose. He was the robin40 whose chief shouting-place was the hawthorn41 bush in the lane. John and Elizabeth had so named him because he always made such a noise, leaping about and calling "Hi, Hi! Whee! Whoo—Hoo!" in a most rowdy manner indeed.
They had named many other familiar birds in The Dale fields that spring, and now Elizabeth gave a significant nod towards the orchard42 to announce the song of another favorite. This robin sang from the top of the big duchess tree that peeped over the wall into the front garden. His was a plaintive43, quiet song, quite unlike The Rowdy's. They had noticed the pathetic little chant one evening when the schoolmaster sat beside Annie on the front porch. Mr. Coulson had remarked that there was a robin in the orchard who was singing the anthem44 of the Exile of Erin. But John declared in private to Elizabeth that it wasn't anything of the kind. Anyone could hear he was saying "Oh, wirra-wurra! Wirra-wurra!" just the way old Mrs. Teeter did when she recounted her troubles of the early pioneer days, or when Oro's Orator45 had been fighting again. So to John and Elizabeth the robin of the duchess tree was known as "Granny Teeter." They listened to him now, complaining away to the pink apple-blossoms; and, knowing it was very wicked and dangerous to laugh just then, they held themselves in convulsions of silent mirth.
Elizabeth forgot all about the sinfulness of man's estate as well as the gorgeousness of Mrs. Jarvis's in listening for sounds of other old friends. There was a pair of meadow larks46 that had their nest in the pasture field just on the other side of the lane, and now one of them was mounted in his favorite elm, pouring forth47 his delicious notes in a descending48 scale of sweetness: "Dear, hear, I am near." Farther down, near the line of birches, in a feathery larch49 tree, sang a peculiar50 song sparrow, who pounded four times on a loud silver bell to attract attention before he started his little melody. Then there was a crowd of jolly bob-o'-links over yonder in the clover-meadow who danced and trilled, and a pair of blue-birds in the orchard who talked to each other in sweet, soft notes. There was a loud and joyous51 oriole, proud of his golden coat, blowing up his ringing little trumpet52 from the pine tree near the gate, and ever so many flickers54, all gorgeously dressed in red and yellow and every color their gaudy55 taste could suggest, each with his little box of money, Elizabeth explained, which he rattled56 noisily, just to attract attention when he couldn't sing. But the favorite was a gray cat-bird that sang from the bass-wood tree at the back of the vegetable garden. They liked him best, because he was so naughty and badly behaved, always sneaking57 round the backyard, and never coming out where there was an audience, as The Rowdy did. And then he could beat everybody, and at his own song, too! He was at them all now, one after the other—robin, song sparrow, oriole, flicker53, everything—with a medley58 of trills and variations worked in just to show that he had a whole lot of music of his own if he only cared to use it.
John's silent laughter was quite safe, but Elizabeth's was of the explosive variety. A chuckle59 escaped which caused Aunt Margaret to look up from her Sunday-school paper, and the two culprits immediately dived back to their tasks. Elizabeth felt how wicked she was to have allowed her thoughts to wander thus, and for a time gave such good attention to her question that she arrived at original sin with only two slips.
But Mrs. Jarvis came back again, arrayed in all the grandeur60 in which Elizabeth's imagination always clothed her. She planned how she would act when that great lady came. She would walk very slowly and solemnly into the parlor61, just the way Aunt Margaret did, and bow very gravely. Then she would say those French words Jean always used since she had been attending the High School in Cheemaun, "Commay voo, porty voo." That was French for "Good afternoon, Mrs. Jarvis"; and of course Mrs. Jarvis would know French, and be very much impressed. She strove to weave a pious62 thread of catechism into the wicked fabric63 of her thoughts—"the sinfulness of that estate whereunto man fell"—perhaps Mrs. Jarvis would ask her to go for a walk with her down the lane, or even a drive in her carriage—"consists in the guilt of Adam's first sin"—of course she would talk only of books, and not let her see the playhouse she and Mary had made in the lane. That was very childish. She would tell how she had read "The Vicar of Wakefield" and "Old Mortality"—of course father had read them to her, but it was all the same thing—and "Hiawatha" and "The Lamplighter"—"the want of original corruption and the righteousness of his whole nature." And surely Mrs. Jarvis would think she was genteel and know that the wild streak64 had completely disappeared—"together with all actual transgressions which proceed from it." Elizabeth then and there solemnly vowed65 that she would neither run nor jump, nor climb a fence, not even the little low one between their pasture-field and Tom Teeter's, until Mrs. Jarvis's coming.
And so the morning passed slowly in a struggle between a restless body, a restless mind, and a restless soul, all tending in different directions, and at last they stood in a row before their aunt to recite their morning's task. Even little Jamie had his verse of Scripture67 to lisp, and was patted on the head when he stammered68 out:
"De people dat sat in dawkness saw a dwate night."
Everyone acquitted70 himself well except Elizabeth. The catechism refused to disentangle itself from the jumble71 of bird-voices and dream-voices with which it was mixed; and she went out to dinner with hanging head and tear-dimmed eyes.
The light lunch of cold boiled beef and potatoes was soon disposed of, and then the hour for starting to Sunday school had arrived, bringing with it a great relief, and making Elizabeth completely forget her troubles.
The Gordons had an old speckled gray horse and a queer basket phaeton, left by the eccentric Englishman in The Dale stables years before. Mr. Gordon used them to convey him to the town hall, some miles distant, where the township council meetings were held, but Miss Gordon always drove to church in this family carriage, accompanied by Malcolm, and with little Jamie on her knee, while the remainder of the family walked.
The church, like the school, lay a couple of miles south of The Dale, away at the other side of a great hill. There were two roads leading thither72. The one used by the school children on week-days was called the Short Cut. It ran down The Dale lane, crossed the pond beside MacAllister's mill, went up the opposite bank, over a wild half-cleared stretch of land called The Slash73, through old Sandy McLachlan's wood, and by way of his rickety gate out on to the public highway a few yards from the school. It was much shorter this way than going "down the line," though strange to say it took far longer to traverse it on a schoolday, for it was a very enjoyable road indeed, from which one was ever making side excursions after berries or nuts or wild grapes, and which admitted of endless ways of beguiling74 dull time, and rendering75 oneself late for school.
For various reasons the church-going population took to the public highway on Sabbaths. Those who drove went this way from necessity, and those who didn't went because they were always picked up before they had gone half a mile. Besides, parents had long since learned that Sabbath clothes as well as Sabbath decorum were apt to suffer from the conveniences of the Short Cut.
William Gordon alone took this solitary road on Sabbath afternoons, for he loved the loneliness and quiet of the woods. This arrangement suited everyone except Elizabeth. Her heart always suffered a pang76 as they all turned up the lane together, and her father went away alone in the opposite direction. Once she had begged so hard to accompany him that he had yielded, and she had walked by his side, holding his hand, in silent sympathy, all the way over the sunny fields and through the cool green shadows of the woods. She had been quiet and good and he had said she was his little comforter, but Elizabeth had never gone again. It was not that she had found the walk dull in comparison to the companionship of the regular highway, for Elizabeth would have walked through a fiery77 furnace with her father in preference to any other road. But that wise older self had told her that her father preferred to be alone. She could not have told how she knew, but she was seldom mistaken in her intuition and followed it. And so, though it wrung78 her heart to see him go alone, she merely watched him with loving eyes, until his bowed head and thin, stooped shoulders disappeared from view in the willowy ravine.
Those who walked started only a few minutes before the phaeton, for if they were not picked up by Martin's big double buggy on the Champlain Road, then the MacAllisters would take them in at the corner, or they would be gathered to the bosoms79 of the Wully Johnstones before they had gone many rods down the line.
The Martins were a trifle late to-day and, to Elizabeth's joy, they reached the corner where four great elms stretched out their sweeping80 arms to each other just as MacAllister's ample three-seated buggy came lumbering81 along. Charles Stuart was there on the front seat beside his father, to be sure; but Mother MacAllister was in the back seat alone. The girls climbed in, Sarah Emily and all, and Archie and John took their places in Wully Johnstone's vehicle that had just emerged from their lane on to the public highway.
Elizabeth sat in her favorite place, close up to Mother MacAllister. At first she decided82 she would not speak to Charles Stuart, nor look near him. Then, recalling her undignified conduct in the ball game with him, she felt ashamed. It would be no use to act haughtily83 now, she reflected with a sigh. "I wish I hadn't forgotten," she said to herself. "It's so much easier to forget than forgive." She finally decided to treat Charles Stuart politely but distantly. She must let him see that he had behaved very badly indeed and that, though she might be kind and forgiving, all was over between them.
Just then Charles Stuart turned in his seat and whispered, "Look, Lizzie, look at Trip!"
Elizabeth turned in the direction he indicated. Trip had as usual been forbidden to follow the family to church, but there he was trotting84 along the roadside, stopping every now and then to lift up one paw and look inquiringly after his master. Elizabeth returned Charles Stuart's glance and they giggled.
Trip was really a very dear and funny little dog and she was very fond of him. To be sure, he was often wild and bad just like Charles Stuart, but then he was so neat and cute and frisky85 and altogether lovable. He had a cunning face, queerly marked. Round one eye was a large black patch, which gave him a disreputable air, and his habit of putting his little head on one side and looking supernaturally wise, just as though he could not see out of the bad black eye, further emphasized his naughty appearance. He was the noisiest thing of his size that could be found too. He could raise more row over a groundhog's hole, Tom Teeter said, than an army would over the discovery of an ambushed86 enemy. But to-day he was trotting meekly87 by the roadside, unmindful of chipmunks88 or swallows, for he knew right well he was doing wrong, and felt it was safer to be quiet.
"What'll you do with him?" asked Elizabeth anxiously.
"Wait till I catch him at the church. I'll make him scoot for home, you bet."
Elizabeth looked worried. "Oh, Charles Stuart, you won't hurt him?"
"I'll make him mind me, anyhow," said Charles Stuart firmly, and Elizabeth knew from past experience that it would be useless to interfere89. Nevertheless, she felt very sorry for the little dog trotting along towards sure disappointment, and once again she quite forgot that she had intended to be cold and distant to Trip's master.
The old buggy rattled along through alternate sunshine and shade. Elizabeth soon forgot Trip and sat gazing off over hill and valley, not even hearing what Annie and Jean were telling Mother MacAllister about their new dresses. She was far above such thoughts. They had dipped down into the hollow where the stream flowed brown and cool beneath the bridge and had begun to climb the big hill where the view of the lovely green earth grew wider at each step. As they went up and up, the rolling hills seemed gradually to fall away, leaving a great space of deep blue sky touched with white bunches of dazzling clouds, for there always seemed more sky in Oro than in any other place. Now the long thread of the little river lying across the valley they had left, gleamed out blue and bright, now it disappeared, and before them another gleam of blue above far-off treetops shone forth, where Lake Simcoe lay sparkling in the sunlight. There was a little green island away out on its shining floor, and Elizabeth, with her dreamy eyes fixed90 upon it, thought it must look like Heaven. Then it all vanished, sinking like a beautiful dream-lake behind the treetops as they descended91 into the wooded valley. Elizabeth sighed happily. Here the air smelt92 cool and sweet, a mingling93 of damp earth, fragrant94 blossoms, running water, and wood-violets. The loveliness of the world of forest and sky would on ordinary occasions have driven her to wild abandon, sent her flying over fields and fences as far removed as possible from the genteel. But to-day was Sunday, and Mother MacAllister's arm was about her, and her spirit was filled with a great content.
She softly hummed the psalm with which they so often opened the church service down there in the hollow:
"O, come let us sing to the Lord,
To Him our voices raise.
And from the little basket phaeton behind, Miss Gordon, watching her charges, wondered what foolish thoughts were passing through Lizzie's flighty little head. It could not even approach her consciousness that the child's very soul was raised in rapturous worship.
Down the hill slowly wound the little procession. Elizabeth looked back. Behind her aunt was Martin's buggy. She could see Susie, one of her bosom-friends, on the front seat beside her father. But she did not wave her hand, because it was Sunday and Aunt Margaret was looking.
The little church in the hollow opposite the schoolhouse came in sight as they emerged from the woods at Sandy McLachlan's gate. It was a straight, clapboard structure, painted white, and standing97 in a forlorn-looking little field bare of trees. At one side stretched a long shed; at the other a grass-grown graveyard98 with leaning headstones. Inside there were also evidences that beauty had been sacrificed to economy in the building of Forest Glen Church. It was severely99 plain, with bare white walls, and a flat and smoky ceiling. There was a big oblong stove, the same shape as the church, at the end near the door, and a little organ and a pulpit-table on a small platform at the other end.
The only attempt at decoration was a big bunch of cherry blossoms someone had placed upon the organ, and four mottoes, worked in colored wools and framed in Lake Simcoe shells, which hung upon the walls.
Sunday school was held during the hour before the church service, the two congregations being very much alike. For an ideal state of affairs prevailed in Forest Glen. People did not send their children to Sunday school; they took them. Noah Clegg was the superintendent101, and old Sandy McLachlan assistant. Noah operated at the end where the platform stood, while Sandy officiated at the door, ushering102 in the pupils, and often during the session, calling out instructions to Noah from his end of the building. Sandy's chief duty was to let people into the church and keep out the dogs, which like the people showed a laudable desire to attend divine service, especially in the winter. Sandy was armed with a big stick, and if any canine103 approached it, woe104 betide him. He and Noah Clegg were fast friends, so the double-headed organization worked well. Besides it was a necessity, for, while the Forest Glen church and its minister were Presbyterians, the Sunday school had gone far ahead of the times and was a shining example of what might be achieved by Church union. Noah Clegg was a Methodist, and Sandy McLachlan a pillar in the Presbyterian church. Old Silas Pratt, who was secretary-treasurer, and his daughter who was the organist, were close-communion Baptists, and there were several Anglicans who taught classes. All denominations105 had a voice in the managing of the Sunday school, but an hour later, when the Rev100. Mr. Murray drove out from Cheemaun, the service took on a decidedly Presbyterian color.
When the buggies from The Dale valley rumbled106 up to the door, Sandy McLachlan was there, stick in hand. He was a queer but intelligent old man, who lived in a little house on the edge of the woods where the Short Cut met the highway. He was quite alone in the world, except for his little grand-daughter Eppie. Elizabeth knew Eppie well, as they were about the same age, and in the same class in Sunday school. As she alighted, she caught sight of the little girl in her coarse homespun dress and heavy boots hiding shyly behind her grandfather. At the sight of Elizabeth her face broke into a radiant smile. This was her one schoolmate who was always kind to poor Eppie.
But, as Elizabeth hurried up the steps towards her, she almost stumbled over Trip who came cowering109 behind. There were only two or three things in the world that Trip was afraid of, and Martin's big yellow dog was one of them. This terrible brute110 was slowly approaching with gleaming teeth, bristling111 yellow hair, and terrible inward rumblings. Scarcely knowing what she did, Elizabeth caught up the shivering little terrier and rolled him under her pinafore. She looked about distractedly for Charles Stuart, but both he and John had driven the horses to the sheds. Elizabeth slowly approached the door in an agony of uncertainty113. It would be dreadfully wicked to take a dog into church, even if one could pass old Sandy, but it was impossible to leave Trip out there to be rent in pieces by those terrible yellow jaws114. She pressed behind Sarah Emily, striving to hide the squirming little bundle beneath her pinafore.
"Are ye goin' to take him in?" whispered Eppie in dismay.
"I—I don't know what to do," faltered115 Elizabeth. "Brag116 'll kill him if I leave him here—and your grandpa won't let him in."
"Grandaddy 'll not be saying anything," whispered Eppie. "Jist be slippin' in by."
As they approached the big knotted stick, Miss Gordon, leading Jamie by the hand, passed in ahead of them. Sandy lowered his stick and made a profound bow. He had been heard many times to declare that Miss Gordon was the finest lady he had seen since he left the Old Country, and he knew a lady when he saw one. Miss Gordon was aware of Sandy's opinion, and as usual bowed to him most graciously, and under cover of her entry Elizabeth, breathless with dread27 of the fell deed she was committing, slipped inside and up to her class seat, still holding the trembling little dog beneath her pinafore.
There were already three other little girls in the class, who all gazed in amazement117 at the new pupil. Rosie Carrick was there, Rosie of the pink cheeks and the long curls who was Elizabeth's dearest chum. Rosie giggled at the sight of Trip, and Elizabeth felt ashamed. Rosie was the dearest girl in the world, but she would giggle13 at anything, even a tragedy.
"Please, teacher," said Katie Price, "Lizzie Gordon's fetched a dog into Sunday school." Katie Price always told things, and Rosie stopped giggling118 and whispered, "Aw, tattle-tale!"
The teacher looked down at the little dog crouching119 between Elizabeth's feet and Eppie's. But she did not look the least bit cross. Martha Ellen never did. She giggled harder than Rosie, and exclaimed:
"Laws! Lizzie Gordon, where did you get him?" and then straightened her big hat and glanced across the aisle120 towards Mr. Coulson's class. Elizabeth looked up at her in overwhelming gratitude121. She had always adored Martha Ellen Robertson, but never so much as at this minute.
"Please, teacher," she faltered, "Martin's Brag was going to eat him up. He's Charles Stuart MacAllister's dog, and I can give him to Charles Stuart when he comes."
"Oh, he ain't going' to hurt anybody; are you, little doggie?" whispered Martha Ellen good-naturedly. "He'll be all right so long as your grandpa don't see him; eh, Eppie?"
Eppie smiled shyly, and then Noah Clegg's squeaky boots sounded up the aisle and Sunday school had commenced.
Elizabeth drew a great sigh of relief, and glanced about her to see if anyone appeared conscious of the guilty secret squeezed between her and Eppie. But apparently123 no one was. All her own family, seated about the room, seemed absorbed in their own affairs.
Each of the Gordons had a place in Sunday school, either as pupil or teacher. Mr. Gordon taught the old folk who sat on the front row of seats. Every Sabbath they were there, their hard hands folded, their gray heads and toil-worn shoulders bent124, listening while the man with the sad, sweet face told them stories of One whose hands had been rent, and whose shoulders had been bowed by the burden of their sin, and Who, could they but know Him, would, under all the labor125 and money-getting of their narrow lives, reveal to them life's true and noble meaning.
Miss Gordon taught the Young Ladies' Bible Class, her most critical pupil being Sarah Emily, whose presence there the good lady could not but regard as an intrusion. Annie taught a class of tiny girls near the front. She had taken her place beside them and sat with bent head and scarlet126 cheeks. Long ago she had learned that from her position it was very easy to catch the eye of the teacher of a class of big boys across the aisle. But one swift glance at him sitting up straight, haughty127, and severe, convinced her she must never expect a kindly128 glance from that source again. She had bidden him go, because her aunt had commanded her, but, oh, how could she have suspected that he would obey? She sat in misery129, striving desperately130 to keep back her tears.
Ordinarily Elizabeth would have noticed her sister's distressed131 face, but Trip once more claimed her attention. Just across the aisle was Old Silas Pratt's class, to which John and Charles Stuart belonged. They had just entered, and, with a squirm and a grunt132, the little dog jerked himself free from the nervous grip of his preserver's feet, and darted133 across the aisle to his master. Charles Stuart shoved him under the scat, pinning him there with his legs, and looked inquiringly towards Elizabeth. Such an improper134 proceeding135 as this entirely136 suited Charles Stuart's ideas, but how Elizabeth came to be a partner in it was something he did not understand.
But Sunday school was opening, and, as no one seemed to have noticed the dog, Elizabeth, greatly relieved, gave her attention to duty. Noah Clegg had sent Wully Johnstone's Johnny to look up and down the line to see if there was anyone coming, and Johnny having reported no one but Silas Pratt's brindled137 cow, the service commenced.
"Now, boys and girls," said the superintendent, with a fine old London accent, "we'll sing 'ymn number fifty-four:
"There is a 'appy land
Far, far away."
Noah Clegg was a good little man, with a round, cheery face, iron-gray hair, and a short, stubby beard. He wore a shiny black suit, and his new Sabbath boots, which turned up at the toes like Venetian gondolas138 and sang like gondoliers. He held a stick in his hand, with which he beat time, and now gave the signal to the organist to commence.
"Now, boys an' girls, an' grown-ups, too," cried the superintendent, "sing up fine an' 'earty. This is a 'appy land we live in an' we're goin' to a 'appier one; an' this is a 'appy day, an' I 'ope the good Lord 'll give us all 'appy 'earts."
The school burst into song. Everyone, from old Granny Teeter in the front row to little Jamie Gordon down in the primary class, sang with all his might. Then there was an equally hearty140 reading of the Lesson. This was a short extract from the Scriptures141 printed on their little leaflets. Noah Clegg read one verse, while the school responded with the next in rumbling112 unison142, after which each teacher turned to his class. This was simply done by reversing the seat ahead, the back of which turned over in the most accommodating manner, enabling the instructor143 to sit facing his pupils.
The Lesson was read again in class, verses were recited, and then the teacher asked questions or expounded144 the passage. A pleasant buzz and hum arose. Now and then a voice would rise above the general rumble107, for old Silas Pratt was deaf, and Charles Stuart MacAllister and Wully Johnstone's Johnny, and John Gordon and all the other bad boys in his class, shouted their memory verses into his ear louder than even necessity demanded. Then Wully Johnstone had a powerful and penetrating145 voice and taught so loud that everyone in the church heard him even better than he heard his own teacher.
The little girls in Martha Ellen Robertson's class were always quiet and well-behaved, partly because it was the nature of all except Elizabeth, but mostly because they were very much in love with their teacher and intensely proud of her. They felt they had good reason to be, for was it not known all over the countryside that Martha Ellen was the best-dressed young lady outside Cheemaun. Every Sunday, Elizabeth and Rosie, squeezed up against the wall to avoid the drip from the coal-oil lamp above, sat waiting for her arrival and whispering eager speculations146 as to what new things she would wear. They were seldom disappointed, and to-day their teacher had never looked finer. She wore a brand new white hat, with a huge bunch of luscious147 red cherries nodding over the wide brim. To be sure, the white embroidered148 dress was last summer's freshly starched and ironed, but she had a new, broad blue satin ribbon round her slim waist and tied in a big bow at her side. Then Martha Ellen always wore gold bracelets149 and rings; and, what was her most attractive ornament150 to her class, a beautiful gold watch in her belt, attached to a long gold chain about her neck. The girls often saw the watch, much to their joy, for several times during Sunday school Martha Ellen would pull it out and say in surprise, "The time's not up yet," and would continue with the lesson.
Martha Ellen was always kind, and one of the few people with whom Elizabeth expanded. Elizabeth was often wild and foolish in school, but in Sunday school that older inner self was always predominant and she was as wise and well behaved as Noah Clegg himself. For inside the church building the child's mind was held in a kind of holy fear. She spent most of her time there dwelling151 upon her sins and longing152 to be good. She did not know that the starched pinafore that scratched her neck, the tightness of her heavy braid of hair, and the stiffness of her Sunday boots contributed not a little to her inner discomfort. But she gave her undivided attention to Miss Robertson and the lesson.
She was never distracted, as Rosie so often was by Katie Price's clothes. Katie had on a new sash to-day, and Rosie sighed and poked153 Elizabeth and asked her if she didn't wish to goodness she had one, too. Elizabeth glanced at the sash quite unmoved. The Gordon girls never had sashes, nor finery of any kind, but why should one who knew she would some day wear a flashing suit of silvery armor and a crimson154 velvet155 cloak be envious156 of mere69 ribbons? Elizabeth did not confide157 this comforting assurance to Rosie, but she whispered truthfully, No, that she didn't want one like Katie Price's. She was quite unconscious of the fact that there dwelt in her mind not a little of Aunt Margaret's pride—the feeling that it was infinitely158 better to be a Gordon in a dun-colored pinafore than a Price in a silk sash and a flower-trimmed hat.
She soon forgot all about Katie in her absorption in the lesson. Anything savoring159 of religion took strong hold of Elizabeth, and even Martha Ellen's presentation of a passage of Scripture appealed to her. When the passage was re-read, Miss Robertson read a list of questions off the printed page before her. "Who was Zaccheus?" was the first question. Katie Price was looking at her sash and didn't know. Susie Martin hung her head and blushed, Eppie Turner was always too shy to speak, and Rosie Carrick ventured the remark that "he was a man." Miss Robertson passed on perfectly160 good-natured. "Lizzie Gordon, who was Zaccheus?" Lizzie Gordon knew all about him, and spun108 off information, even to his being little and having to climb a tree. "I can tell lots more," she said invitingly161, as Miss Robertson held up her hand to stem the flood. But the teacher smilingly shook her head. Lizzie was getting too far ahead. "Where did he live?" was the next question read off in the direction of Katie Price, and so on they went until all the questions were read and answered, Elizabeth supplying whatever information the rest of the class failed to give. Next came the "Application," which Elizabeth enjoyed most, because it left room for discussion. The "Application" applied162 to each verse and was also read by the teacher. "Zaccheus was a small man. We may be small and insignificant163 in the eyes of the world, but none the less does responsibility devolve upon each one of us." "Zaccheus climbed a tree. We learn from this that we should all strive to climb to the loftiest that life can attain164." Elizabeth put in an occasional remark, and Martha Ellen responded. This was one of the former's grown-up moments and she reveled in it. There was none of the family there to carry home the tale that Lizzie was putting on pious airs, and so expose her to Jean's ridicule165; and Martha Ellen's marked appreciation166 drew her out to make the wisest and profoundest remarks.
Occasionally Miss Robertson would take out her gold watch and look at it in surprise, and then continue. Occasionally, also, she glanced across the aisle to the big boys' class, and once she was rewarded by a smile and a gracious bow from its teacher. Then Martha Ellen's cheeks grew pink and the cherries on her hat, Elizabeth noticed, shook just as the cherries in the orchard did when the wind swept through the boughs167. She looked very much pleased, too, and glanced back to where Annie Gordon in her plain, blue cotton dress sat with drooping168 head, striving to give her attention to the lesson.
Miss Robertson had finally read all the "Application," and again she looked at her gold watch, while the class sat admiring it. There were still some minutes left, and, with a sigh, the teacher twisted her gold bracelets and then turned the page. "We have just time for the moral piece," she said. "The moral piece" was a little sermon at the end of the Lesson, containing an admonition to all youthful minds, and Martha Ellen sometimes used it to fill in the last few minutes. Elizabeth always listened to it solemnly, for it was full of long, high-sounding words that gave her an exalted169 feeling. But just now her attention was diverted by signs of dire66 trouble brewing170 across the aisle. John and Charles Stuart, all unmindful of old Silas Pratt, who was solemnly reading the moral piece, the paper held close to his eyes, were doubling up in convulsions of silent laughter; while from underneath171 them came ominous172 squeaks173 and rumbles174 and a pair of wicked eyes gleamed from the dusky shadow of the seat. Elizabeth's heart stood still. Those dreadful boys were teasing Trip, and he would burst forth soon into loud barking, and what would become of the culprit who had brought him into the church?
The moral piece was drawing to a close; old Wully Johnstone had finished his, and a hush175 had fallen over the school. Noah Clegg had left his class, and gone squeak122, squeak on tiptoe to the platform, and was coming squeak, squeak back again with the collection box. The little girls had begun to untie176 their cents from the corners of their handkerchiefs.
Now, the window just above Elizabeth's head was open, and a little sparrow, emboldened177 by the quiet, hopped178 upon the sill, and fell to pecking at some crumbs179 left there from the last tea-meeting. He even ventured to the edge of the sill and with his knowing little head on one side contemplated180, with one bright eye, the cherries on Martha Ellen's hat, as though he longed to get a peck at them.
But just across the church the wicked pair of gleaming eyes were watching the little sparrow from the dark corner. From beneath them subterranean181 grumblings and mutterings warned Charles Stuart that Trip was growing dangerously excited. John Gordon indicated the cause, by a nod at the sparrow, and the two boys ducked their heads in an agony of mirth. This was too much for Charles Stuart. Not stopping to consider the consequences, he leaned down and whispered, "Crows, Trip, crows!" and clutched the little dog tighter between his legs. Now Trip had been trained all spring to chase the crows from the corn, and this was his signal to charge. Not all the boys in Forest Glen Sunday school could have held him at that moment. The word "crows" changed him into a raging, squirming, yelping183, snarling184, exploding little powder-magazine. With a yell of wrath185 he burst free and leaped upon the opposite seat, knocking the moral piece from Silas Pratt's hand and the spectacles from his nose. With one explosive yelp182 he hurtled across the aisles186, landed upon Martha Ellen Robertson's seat, slid half its slippery length, righted himself, and standing upon his hind30 legs, with his front paws upon the back of the seat, he burst into a storm of wild barking. Of course the sparrow was by this time away down near Lake Simcoe, but Trip still continued his uproar187. He did not bark, he fairly squalled out all his long pent-up rage, leaping and dancing on his wicked little hind legs, and making noise enough to scare every bird out of Forest Glen woods.
The consternation188 was not confined to the birds. Everybody stood up and exclaimed in horror. Martha Ellen was so alarmed that she screamed right out loud, and ran across the aisle to Mr. Coulson for protection. Noah Clegg dropped the collection all over the floor, and Silas Pratt put on his spectacles again and ejaculated, "Well, well, well, well!" Even the daring Charles Stuart was rather dismayed at the havoc189 he had wrought190, and as for poor Elizabeth, words could not describe how rent and torn she was between shame and terror. Sandy McLachlan was the only one who seemed equal to the emergency. He arose, exclaiming explosively, "For peety's sake!" and in two minutes the dog was flying through the doorway191 with yelps192 of terror, followed by several profane193 anathemas194 upon his wicked little head for "pollutin' the hoose o' God."
Noah Clegg gathered up the pennies and took his place upon the platform as if nothing had happened. Any rare case of insubordination in the Sunday school was never dealt with there. It was left to home discipline, which, being of the good old Canadian sort, was always salutary. So, knowing by the MacAllister's lowering countenance that dire consequences awaited his son upon his return home, Noah gave out the closing hymn, with undisturbed cheerfulness:
"Come along now, boys and girls, an' we'll sing our closin' 'ymn. Never mind the poor little puppy, there ain't no bad in him at all. Come along an' we'll sing No. 148—'Oh, 'Appy Day,' and then you'll go out an' fill your lungs full o' hair before church starts."
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1
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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3
starched
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| adj.浆硬的，硬挺的，拘泥刻板的v.把（衣服、床单等）浆一浆( starch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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4
extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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5
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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6
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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7
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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8
batch
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| n.一批(组，群)；一批生产量 | |
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9
viands
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| n.食品，食物 | |
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10
sniffing
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| n.探查法v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的现在分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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11
grimace
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| v.做鬼脸，面部歪扭 | |
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12
giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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13
giggle
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| n.痴笑，咯咯地笑；v.咯咯地笑着说 | |
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14
approbation
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| n.称赞；认可 | |
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15
earrings
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| n.耳环( earring的名词复数 )；耳坠子 | |
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16
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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17
maple
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| n.槭树，枫树，槭木 | |
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18
psalm
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| n.赞美诗，圣诗 | |
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19
paraphrase
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| vt.将…释义，改写；n.释义，意义 | |
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20
hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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21
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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22
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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23
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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24
majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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25
ransomed
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| 付赎金救人，赎金( ransom的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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26
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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27
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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28
allotted
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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29
plodded
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| v.沉重缓慢地走（路）( plod的过去式和过去分词 )；努力从事；沉闷地苦干；缓慢进行（尤指艰难枯燥的工作） | |
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30
hind
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| adj.后面的，后部的 | |
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31
jargon
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| n.术语，行话 | |
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32
guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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33
corruption
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| n.腐败，堕落，贪污 | |
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34
transgressions
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| n.违反，违法，罪过( transgression的名词复数 ) | |
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35
obtruded
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| v.强行向前，强行，强迫( obtrude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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36
hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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37
dourness
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| n.性情乖僻，酸味，坏心眼 | |
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38
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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39
animation
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| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
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40
robin
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| n.知更鸟，红襟鸟 | |
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41
hawthorn
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| 山楂 | |
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42
orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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43
plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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44
anthem
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| n.圣歌，赞美诗，颂歌 | |
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45
orator
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| n.演说者，演讲者，雄辩家 | |
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46
larks
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| n.百灵科鸟（尤指云雀）( lark的名词复数 )；一大早就起床；鸡鸣即起；（因太费力而不想干时说）算了v.百灵科鸟（尤指云雀）( lark的第三人称单数 )；一大早就起床；鸡鸣即起；（因太费力而不想干时说）算了 | |
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47
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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48
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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49
larch
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| n.落叶松 | |
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50
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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51
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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52
trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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53
flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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54
flickers
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| 电影制片业； （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的名词复数 ) | |
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55
gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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56
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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57
sneaking
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| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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58
medley
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| n.混合 | |
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59
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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60
grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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61
parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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62
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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63
fabric
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| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
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64
streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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65
vowed
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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66
dire
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| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
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67
scripture
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| n.经文，圣书，手稿；Scripture:(常用复数)《圣经》，《圣经》中的一段 | |
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68
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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69
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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70
acquitted
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| 宣判…无罪( acquit的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（自己）作出某种表现 | |
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71
jumble
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| vt.使混乱，混杂；n.混乱；杂乱的一堆 | |
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72
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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73
slash
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| vi.大幅度削减；vt.猛砍，尖锐抨击，大幅减少；n.猛砍，斜线，长切口，衣衩 | |
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74
beguiling
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| 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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75
rendering
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| n.表现，描写 | |
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76
pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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77
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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78
wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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79
bosoms
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| 胸部( bosom的名词复数 )； 胸怀； 女衣胸部（或胸襟）； 和爱护自己的人在一起的情形 | |
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80
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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81
lumbering
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| n.采伐林木 | |
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82
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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83
haughtily
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| adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
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84
trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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85
frisky
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| adj.活泼的，欢闹的；n.活泼，闹着玩；adv.活泼地，闹着玩地 | |
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86
ambushed
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| v.埋伏( ambush的过去式和过去分词 )；埋伏着 | |
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87
meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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88
chipmunks
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| n.金花鼠( chipmunk的名词复数 ) | |
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89
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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90
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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91
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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92
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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93
mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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94
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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95
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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96
salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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97
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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98
graveyard
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| n.坟场 | |
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99
severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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100
rev
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| v.发动机旋转，加快速度 | |
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101
superintendent
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| n.监督人，主管，总监；(英国)警务长 | |
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102
ushering
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的现在分词 ) | |
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103
canine
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| adj.犬的，犬科的 | |
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104
woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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105
denominations
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| n.宗派( denomination的名词复数 )；教派；面额；名称 | |
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106
rumbled
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| 发出隆隆声，发出辘辘声( rumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 轰鸣着缓慢行进； 发现…的真相； 看穿（阴谋） | |
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107
rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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108
spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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109
cowering
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的现在分词 ) | |
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110
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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111
bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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112
rumbling
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| n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
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113
uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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114
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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115
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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116
brag
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| v./n.吹牛，自夸；adj.第一流的 | |
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117
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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118
giggling
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
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119
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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120
aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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121
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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122
squeak
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| n.吱吱声，逃脱；v.（发出）吱吱叫，侥幸通过；（俚）告密 | |
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123
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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124
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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125
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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126
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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127
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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128
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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129
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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130
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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131
distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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132
grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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133
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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134
improper
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| adj.不适当的，不合适的，不正确的，不合礼仪的 | |
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135
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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136
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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137
brindled
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| adj.有斑纹的 | |
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138
gondolas
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| n.狭长小船( gondola的名词复数 )；货架（一般指商店，例如化妆品店）；吊船工作台 | |
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139
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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140
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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141
scriptures
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| 经文，圣典( scripture的名词复数 )； 经典 | |
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142
unison
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| n.步调一致，行动一致 | |
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143
instructor
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| n.指导者，教员，教练 | |
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144
expounded
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| 论述，详细讲解( expound的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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145
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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146
speculations
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| n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 )；思考；投机活动；推断 | |
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147
luscious
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| adj.美味的；芬芳的；肉感的，引与性欲的 | |
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148
embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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149
bracelets
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| n.手镯，臂镯( bracelet的名词复数 ) | |
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150
ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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151
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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152
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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153
poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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154
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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155
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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156
envious
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| adj.嫉妒的，羡慕的 | |
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157
confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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158
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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159
savoring
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| v.意味，带有…的性质( savor的现在分词 )；给…加调味品；使有风味；品尝 | |
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160
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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161
invitingly
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| adv. 动人地 | |
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162
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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163
insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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164
attain
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| vt.达到，获得，完成 | |
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165
ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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166
appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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167
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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168
drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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169
exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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170
brewing
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| n. 酿造, 一次酿造的量 动词brew的现在分词形式 | |
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171
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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172
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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173
squeaks
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| n.短促的尖叫声，吱吱声( squeak的名词复数 )v.短促地尖叫( squeak的第三人称单数 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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174
rumbles
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| 隆隆声，辘辘声( rumble的名词复数 ) | |
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175
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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176
untie
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| vt.解开，松开；解放 | |
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177
emboldened
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| v.鼓励，使有胆量( embolden的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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178
hopped
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| 跳上[下]( hop的过去式和过去分词 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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179
crumbs
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| int. (表示惊讶)哎呀 n. 碎屑 名词crumb的复数形式 | |
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180
contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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181
subterranean
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| adj.地下的，地表下的 | |
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182
yelp
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| vi.狗吠 | |
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183
yelping
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| v.发出短而尖的叫声( yelp的现在分词 ) | |
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184
snarling
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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185
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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186
aisles
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| n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
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187
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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188
consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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189
havoc
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| n.大破坏，浩劫，大混乱，大杂乱 | |
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190
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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191
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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192
yelps
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| n.（因痛苦、气愤、兴奋等的）短而尖的叫声( yelp的名词复数 )v.发出短而尖的叫声( yelp的第三人称单数 ) | |
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193
profane
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| adj.亵神的，亵渎的；vt.亵渎，玷污 | |
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194
anathemas
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| n.（天主教的）革出教门( anathema的名词复数 )；诅咒；令人极其讨厌的事；被基督教诅咒的人或事 | |
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