His earliest visits, he felt, should be paid to the homes of his elders, so, a few days after the lively evening spent at the Hamiltons', he took his slim cane6 and went up over the northern wall of Glenoro to pay his respects to old Andrew Johnstone. A somewhat difficult task he knew it would be, for he had already been warned by Mrs. McNabb that Splinterin' Andra was a dour7 old man. But he felt no apprehensions8; his sunny smile and his charming manner had often swept away greater obstacles than this old fellow's crustiness. So he strode along in high spirits, flicking9 the tops off the wayside weeds, whistling a gay operatic air and incidentally wondering whether her eyes were blue or grey.
When he climbed the northern hill of Glenoro and came out upon the broad, sun-flooded highlands, he found that the country sloped gently upwards11, rising in great sweeping12 terraces of green pastureland and fields of early grain, until it reached its highest altitude on the shores of Lake Oro. Andrew Johnstone lived on the borderland between the highlands and the lowlands; his house, a substantial red brick, surrounded by orchards13, stood on the edge of one of the wide terraces and commanded a view of the country for miles around. Every step of the way was a pleasure to the newcomer; the sky was dazzling and unclouded, the air was intoxicating14 with the scent15 of clover, and the tinkling16 music of the bobolinks sounded as though all the fairies on the Oro hills were setting out their tiny cups and saucers for a banquet.
He was strolling along, revelling17 in the beauty of the perfect day and in the sight of the rich slopes of farm lands coming down towards him like a magnificent staircase, when his attention was attracted by a figure on the road ahead approaching with remarkable18 haste. It proved to be a man, somewhat past middle age; he was of medium height and had a fiery19 red beard which flew back from his face and accentuated20 the general air of desperate hurry in his whole appearance.
His face was even redder than his beard, and his wild blue eyes blazed out in fierce contrast. An old Scotch21 bonnet22 sat upon the side of his head and a faded tartan plaid flying from his shoulders gave the finishing touches to his fantastic appearance. This rather alarming person was bearing down upon the young minister and he drew off to the side of the road and grasped his stick more firmly. John Egerton did not lack courage any more than his grandfather had done, but he felt it would be scarcely ministerial to have a fight on the public highway the first week of his pastorate. He had not been long enough in Glenoro to recognise the fiery Highlander23 who kept the Oa in a ferment24 and who went by the weird25 name of Catchach. Allister McBeth he really was, but, with their usual avoidance of baptismal names, the neighbours had given him a more descriptive title. He had earned it himself, for he was named after the strange guttural sound which he was in the habit of making deep in his throat, whenever his anger was roused. This was a contingency26 which arose on an average once an hour and which, when in the company of any mischief-loving youth of the village, became Catchach's chronic state.
His pride was so fierce, and his temper so inflammable, that he was an unfailing source of merriment, especially to the Neil boys and their friends. There was not a kinder or tenderer heart in all the Ontario Highlands than poor Catchach's, but he was always in the throes of a feud27 with someone, for he loved a fight and might be said never to be at peace except when he was at war.
It was this militant28 gentleman who was descending29 upon the unsuspecting young clergyman, setting the stones and dust flying in his haste. But there was no sign of war about him now, only a beaming peace and goodwill30. His eyes were shining, his mouth was expanded in a terrible smile, displaying two rows of long, irregular, yellow teeth and his big red hands were outstretched in greeting. He shouted when he was some half-dozen yards distant, "They tell me you will pe hafing the Gaelic!"
"I—I am not quite sure that I understand you," said the grandson of John McAlpine, coming to a standstill and wishing with all his heart that his cane was not so slim.
"My name will pe McBess, Allister McBess!" cried the rubicund31 personage, grasping a rather unwilling32 hand and shaking it wildly, "Allister McBess, oh yes, inteet, an' they will pe telling me you will pe a real Hielanman, though how coult a Hielanman pe hafing such a name as Egerton, it is a missery to me, whatefer!"
There was no mistaking the good feeling in Catchach's beaming countenance33. John Egerton smiled and shook his hand in return. "I am afraid there is a slight mistake," he answered cordially, "I can't boast of being altogether Highland10 Scotch, and who has been telling you I could speak Gaelic?" He pronounced it Galic and a change came over Catchach's face.
"Tonal Neil, Tonal Neil, whatefer; he will pe saying the new minister will pe Hielan' an' will pe hafing the beautiful Gaelic!"
The look of good-natured indulgence died from John Egerton's face at the mention of Donald's name. The young man with the easy air of equality had been taking liberties! "I am sorry to disappoint you, Mr. McBess," he said stiffly, making the fatal error of failing to detect McBeth in Catchach's lisp, "I am neither Highland Scotch nor can I speak the Gaelic."
Catchach let go his coat; a quiver of mortal disappointment passed over his face.
"And whoever has told you such falsehoods," continued the young man with some heat, "is an untruthful mischiefmaker!"
Catchach's fiery countenance became rigid34. He stepped back and stared so wildly at the minister that the young man hastened to add for his own personal safety, "But I have much Highland blood, you know, and plenty of Lowland Scotch, too."
Alas35! how little he knew of the spirit of the McBeth! "A Lowlander!" It was all Catchach could utter, but the tone in which he said it showed plainly that if Mr. Egerton had confessed to being a full-blood native of the South Sea Islands it would have been infinitely36 better. "A Lowlander!" repeated the Highlander with withering37 scorn, "Tonal Neil, Tonal Neil will pe saying she would haf the Gaelic——" The rest was lost to the ears of the despised Lowlander in a wild outpouring of Gaelic as Catchach turned and went raging down the road to wreak38 vengeance39 on the author of his disappointment.
The young minister continued on his way in great annoyance40. Under any other circumstances the humour of the situation would have appealed to him, but the name of Donald Neil had driven away all the fun. In spite of his free and easy manner, John Egerton was intensely sensitive about his dignity as a minister, and to find himself the victim of a practical joke at the hands of the most influential41 young man of his congregation was anything but pleasant.
Had he seen the huge figure of young Andrew Johnstone disentangle itself from the raspberry bushes by the roadside and steal quietly along the edge of the field to where his idle team was standing42, he would have been still more incensed43; and had he chanced to look back when he reached the hilltop and noticed the same young man leaning weakly against his horses and wiping the tears from his eyes, he would have felt like administering a sound thrashing to at least two of the young people of his congregation.
He arrived at the Johnstone household at a time when he was particularly welcome to his host. Old Andrew had spent the early part of the afternoon arguing with his son upon certain hard points of doctrine44. That a youth of Wee Andra's professions should presume to give any sort of an opinion whatever upon the Shorter Catechism was, in his father's eyes, nothing short of impious. But, as the young man was of that class that rush in where angels fear to tread, he had given his views on predestination without any hesitancy and had gone off to the field leaving his father in a very bad humour. Wee Andra himself was particularly happy, for he took an unfilial delight in troubling his paternal45 relative. At heart he was respectful and dutiful and if any one had dared to breathe a word against his father in his presence, Splinterin' Andra's son would soon have shown himself worthy46 of his sire's appellation47; nevertheless, partly from love of fun and partly through a good-natured stupidity, he proved a veritable thorn in the flesh to his unhappy father. So old Andrew was looking forward to the visit of his pastor with the hope that his example and admonition would have a steadying effect upon his frivolous48 son. Like Duncan Polite, the elder looked upon the young minister as the deliverer of the people of Glenoro church from the spirit of worldliness which he felt characterised them. So, when his daughter came to summon him to the house to put on a coat and collar, as the minister had been sighted on the road not half a mile away, he hurried in with great alacrity49 to greet his visitor.
Tea at Elder Johnstone's was no light ceremony under any circumstances. His was not a place where people went for relaxation50 and jollity, except on the rare occasions when the old folks were away and Wee Andra held sway. The young minister, anxious to please and be friendly, felt from the moment he opened the gate and went up the path, where neat beds of onions and cabbages encroached upon the very doorstep, that it was going to be something of an ordeal51.
His opinion did not alter when he found himself seated at the well-laden table in the big spotless dining room. He could not help contrasting the stiff formality with the ease and gaiety of the Hamilton household. Old Andrew sat, stern and dignified52, at the head of the table. Ordinarily he was talkative, but on this evening he restrained himself, for a gentleman of the old school did not consider it good manners to talk too much in the presence of so superior a person as the minister. At the other end of the table Mrs. Johnstone, red-faced and anxious, bustled53 nervously54 with the new china cups and saucers. Beside the minister sat Janet, the only daughter, a fair, shy girl of sixteen, afraid to look up, and the son of the house sat opposite in his shirtsleeves responding to Mr. Egerton's friendly advances with monosyllabic answers, a puzzling contrast to his uproarious geniality55 at their former meetings. Of course, John Egerton could not guess that the young man was holding down his laughter by superhuman efforts and could not afford to waste any strength upon conversation.
There was a very depressing atmosphere over the whole table, but the visitor had plenty of tact56 to overcome it. He put Mrs. Johnstone at her ease by a cautiously worded compliment upon the repast, for he had learned that a true Scotch woman must ever be approached warily57 with flattery. He set Janet into a flutter of happiness by relating to her a humourous account of some of his sister's attempts at housekeeping, an art in which Janet was well versed58, and he soon had her laughing at the city girl's mistakes with quite a feeling of superiority. Wee Andra was more difficult,—horses, foot-ball, farm work, music, he rose to none of these baits. But he came to life in a most surprising manner when, in dilating59 upon the beauties of Glenoro scenery, the minister happened to mention the enjoyment60 he had experienced in his afternoon walk up the green slopes.
This seemed to be the one topic in which the son of the house was interested. He looked up suddenly and remarked, "Awful quiet road; s'pose you didn't meet anybody?"
"Yes, I did meet a man," responded the other readily, glad at having made an impression at last, "a man named McBess or some such name."
"McBeth it would be," said old Andrew, "Allister McBeth,—Catchach they call him. He's a danderin' bit o' a firebrand."
"Were you speakin' to him?" Wee Andra shot out the question and took refuge in a huge gulp61 of tea. John Egerton glanced across the table quickly. He was beginning to suspect that Donald Neil's chum had had a hand in this childish affair, but he was too wise to show any annoyance.
"I didn't get a chance to say much to him," he said, laughing good naturedly; "he did the talking. He seemed to have become possessed62 of the idea that I was past-master of the art of Gaelic, and when I confessed my culpable63 ignorance of the language, he flew into a rage. He seemed to lay the blame upon your friend, young McDonald." He looked steadily64 at Wee Andra as he spoke65.
Old Andrew shot a suspicious glance at his son; that young man's face was an innocent blank which did not deceive his parent.
"Aye," he grunted66, "it's quite likely he was to blame. Yon Neil lads are aye up to some ill. Ye hae a hard set o' young people to deal wi' in this place, Maister Egerton, an' Ah houp the Lord'll gie ye grace to wrastle wi' them!"
Mr. Egerton looked uncomfortable. He saw quite plainly that, though the Elder was addressing him, he was talking at his son, and tried to turn the conversation. But old Andrew felt that here was an opportunity to warn the new minister of the difficulties and dangers which beset67 him, an opportunity no honourable68 man could let pass, so he launched forth69. He was perfectly70 innocent of any double meaning in his words, but as he railed away against the lightness and giddiness of the rising generation, the young minister felt his indignation rising. Did this old man mean to point out to him the proper line of conduct? If so, he would soon let him see that John McAlpine Egerton would be dictated71 to by no man of his congregation, no more than would his grandfather before him! But Splinterin' Andra sailed on and when he had finished he had given the young pastor a dark and most discouraging picture of the youth of his flock.
"Aye, sir," he concluded, "they're jist given over to lichtness an' foolish talkin'. It's the blue beech72 gad73 they want; they didna get enough o't when they were bairns. Ah'm pleased that ye're come among them to show them a proper way o' conductin' themsels!"
Wee Andra cast a humorous glance at the uncomfortable visitor. He had his own opinion as to whether his pastor was a model of staid and sober conduct and was, in consequence, enjoying his father's tirade74 hugely.
John Egerton was very much relieved when the meal was ended, but the feeling was of short duration, for when they repaired to the parlour matters grew steadily worse. The appearance of the room with its black haircloth furniture, its bristling75 white lace curtains, its coffin-plate of a former Mrs. Johnstone in a black frame on the centre table, its smooth white walls adorned77 with strange and wonderfully constructed hair and feather wreaths in huge frames, and over all the close, damp odour, made a combination which was anything but cheerful.
The family followed him into the parlour and seated themselves stiffly around the walls. Kirsty McDuff, the servant girl, and Jimmie Bailey, the chore boy, entered also a few minutes later. The young minister noticed, with something of the sensations of a felon78 going to his execution, that each person held a Bible and Psalm79 Book, distributed solemnly by Mrs. Johnstone as they entered, and that Janet and the Bailey boy were further provided with catechisms. He glanced at the daughter of the house and pictured himself sitting before the whole household inquiring after her spiritual welfare. The comical side of it struck him and almost upset his gravity.
But there was very little food for mirth in the task before him. He had no idea of what a pastoral visitation meant to the Johnstones. Of course, he had heard very often of the strange old ways of his grandfather's time, but considered them as belonging to the dim past. But Glenoro had not quite emerged from the ancient ways. In the good old days, so lately gone, when Mr. Cameron had visited the members of his congregation, a pastoral visitation was not merely a social function, but a solemn religious ceremony. The minister might discuss with the heads of the family such light matters as the crops or the weather before or during tea; but afterwards, when the family gathered in the best room with their pastor in the midst, temporal affairs were put aside and there was a season of deep heart-searching. There were the Catechism and Scripture80 verses to be heard from the younger members of the family and personal questions to be asked. The minister must know just what progress each one was making on the upward road. There were virtues81 to commend and mistakes to rebuke82. Then, after the reading of a chapter from the Book and the singing of a psalm, there were a few deep, earnest words from the pastor, words which steadied many a careless youth and instilled83 into the hearts of the children the knowledge that God and Right are the only factors to be reckoned with in this world. The ceremony was concluded with a long and fervent84 prayer by the minister, as old and young knelt around the family altar, a prayer which included a distinct comprehensive petition for each member of the family and one from which they all arose strengthened and bettered and ready for the battle against wrong.
Still more solemn had been the visitations of John Egerton's grandfather. That grand old apostle lived in the hard, rough days, and his coming was often looked forward to with dread. His scorching85 rebuke of sin, his powerful personality and his complete consecration86 combined to make his visits a sort of foreshadowing of the great judgment87 day.
But John McAlpine Egerton belonged to a different era. He honestly wanted to do his duty, but his duty on this occasion, he felt, consisted in making himself agreeable to the Johnstone family, not knowing that the head of the household cared not a whit76 how disagreeable his pastor might be so long as he was solemn. The old man, ashamed of his harsh remarks, was silent and moody88. His young pastor's interests were his own and he had spoken from the highest motives89. But he sighed when he thought how much better Duncan Polite would have dealt with the situation. Wee Andra was the only one who was quite at his ease; he seemed to realise that this pastoral visitation was something less rigid than former affairs of the sort, and chewed a straw with unconscious impudence90. Mrs. Johnstone talked a little, but nervously and in an absent-minded manner, fearing that every word she uttered was keeping the minister from giving voice to the solemn truths he was waiting to pour forth. Janet sat on the extreme edge of the sofa, her hands folded, her golden head drooping91 and the unhappy young pastor sat at the other end and made desperate efforts to raise the social atmosphere.
He spoke kindly92 to Kirsty, a tall, fine-looking girl, very much more composed than the daughter of the house; and he asked Jimmie Bailey about the calves93 and the lambs, wondering all the while at the oppressive silence. Then he turned to Janet and tried to open up a conversation with her. He had noticed that the stern visage of the ruling elder relaxed almost into tenderness whenever his eye fell upon his daughter and the wily young man guessed that he might reach the father's heart through her. He inquired if Janet played the organ, and, learning that she did, he requested her to favour them with some music.
Janet glanced at her mother in alarm. To play the organ when the minister was making a pastoral call was surely not to be thought of. But her mother nodded, as Mr. Egerton insisted, and the girl went reluctantly forward, feeling as if she were guilty of sacrilege. She stumbled awkwardly through a loud, noisy march, which made the visitor want to grind his teeth, and as she finished Wee Andra came to life again.
"Won't you sing something, Mr. Egerton?" he asked cordially. "He can sing jist boss, father; you ought to hear him."
Old Andrew drew in a deep breath, but made no reply. The minister demurred96 at first, but finally yielded. If there was anything in the old adage97 that "music hath charms," he told himself grimly that now was the time to put it to the test. He took up a hymn98 book and selected a hymn Janet could play. The leader of the Methodist Choir99 condescended100 to flop101 down noisily from his oblique102 position and join him. Janet's sweet, timid voice made a pleasant third and the trio rendered some gospel hymns103 very musically.
When they had finished Wee Andra begged so hard for a song that the visitor could not well refuse and, taking Janet's place at the organ, he played and sang "Sailing" in splendid style. Jimmie Bailey, who was always threatening to run away on a Lake Huron boat, was enchanted104 and called for more, but something in the elder's face warned the young minister that he had sung enough. He went back to his uncomfortable seat on the sofa and strove to carry on a conversation, but without success.
At length, despairing of ever making friends with this strange family, he made up his mind to depart. He asked for a Bible and Mrs. Johnstone handed him a ponderous105 volume, bound in gilt-edged leather, which she took, with deep reverence106 and some pride, from beneath the coffin-plate. Old Andrew drew a breath of relief. Now at last he would see if this young man were really worthy of his high calling and the name he bore; now surely he would speak and show that his mind was set on higher things. Likely he would say something that would set Wee Andra thinking and put some solemn truths in his empty head.
But John Egerton's one thought was to get away as quickly as possible. He read a very short psalm, in a spiritless voice, and they all knelt for a moment while he led in prayer. He took a hurried farewell of the family; the elder scarcely spoke and Mrs. Johnstone regarded him with a puzzled expression.
He walked homeward in the soft summer dusk, down the great wide staircase, which grew a deeper purple towards the bottom, his heart very heavy. He had tried so hard to do his best, but there was something sadly wrong, he could not quite understand what.
He was beginning to fear that Mrs. McNabb's warning that "Glenoro church was full of old cranks" was only too true.
He was passing slowly down the sloping, faintly pink road, absorbed in his unhappy reflections when, glancing up as he neared the edge of the valley, he noticed an old man standing at the gate of a little log shanty107. The young minister remembered shaking hands with him at church—a quiet old fellow with a handsome, refined face. He had opened his gate and stood as though waiting, looking so kind, so sympathetic and so altogether different from old Andrew Johnstone that the young man felt drawn108 towards him. He paused involuntarily. "Good evening," he said pleasantly, "Mr.—Polite, I think?"
Duncan's smile grew more radiant. "Oh, indeed, they will be calling me that foolish name, whatever," he said apologetically, "but my name will be jist McDonald, Duncan McDonald; oh yes, and you will be coming in for a little rest?"
His manner was so eager and kindly that John Egerton readily accepted. He could not account, however, for the look of joy that overspread the old man's face as he led him up the flower-bordered path; for he was unaware109 that Duncan was saying to himself that Donald would be sure to drop in on his way to the Glen, as he always did, and at last he would see those two together and the Lord would do the rest.
The visitor sat down on the chair beside the lilac bush, having persuaded his host that he preferred to sit out of doors. He leaned back with a sigh of relief and gazed around him. The whole landscape was darkly radiant with that wonderful life-like pulsation110 which we call the after-glow. The sky was a suggestion of rose and amber111 fainting into a delicate green and deepening again into a transparent112 blue where one star hung above Duncan's pines. A world of insect life hummed sleepily in the long grass of the meadow; across the road in the darkness of the woods, a whip-poor-will was whistling away at his plaintive113 little tune114; and from far down in the valley at their feet came up the laughter and shouts of children at play.
"This is a lovely spot," said the young man, feeling soothed115 and rested. Duncan Polite's face beamed; he did not answer, from sheer joy, but waited in silence for such words of wisdom as his pastor might be pleased to utter. John Egerton talked easily when his company was pleasant, and he was soon chatting away upon such topics as he considered congenial to the old farmer—the crops, the prospects116 for the haying, the mill in the valley, the amount of lumber117 sawn and the money realised.
And all the time Duncan Polite's whole soul was waiting for his guest to speak of the one great subject, the subject that would make it possible for him to tell this young disciple118 of his Master that all his hope for Glenoro and Donald lay in him. But the minister continued his friendly chat upon indifferent topics, until it was interrupted by a noise upon the road above, a sound of loud talking and louder laughter drawing near. He paused to listen and involuntarily the faces of both men broke into smiles in reflection of the mirth which was apparently119 convulsing those who approached.
"Ah, those foolish lads, hoots120, toots, what a noise!" said Duncan apologetically, for he recognised Donald's voice and Sandy's, too, in the uproarious shouts of laughter.
But as they came nearer the smile faded from John Egerton's face. He caught the word Catchach, and suddenly the whole truth flashed upon him. Wee Andra had witnessed the meeting of that afternoon and was giving to the Neil boys what they apparently considered a side-splitting description of the affair. All his ministerial dignity rose to meet the insult.
Sandy's voice could be heard distinctly above the others, interspersed121 with convulsive haw haws.
"Great snakes! You did it that time, Don! Bet it scared next Sunday's sermon clean out o' his head!"
Then Wee Andra's deep voice, "Jimminy! It was a better show than all the monkeys at the circus!"
"Was he scared?" It was Donald Neil who dared to ask that question.
"Looked mighty122 skittish123 for a minit, but I was weepin' that hard I couldn't see very good. Catchach swore like a trooper. I could tell that by the way he was grinnin', but the fearful pity was neither me nor his Reverence could understand it!"
They went off again with such utter abandon that Duncan feared the minister might be shocked by such uproarious behaviour on the public road. He did not at all comprehend the meaning of their conversation himself, in fact he scarcely listened to it, so eagerly was he watching for Donald.
The noisy crowd passed the house, and one tall figure detached itself from the group and, swinging open the gate, came up the path. Donald never forgot to give his uncle a call, as he passed on his way to the Glen. Duncan rose in a tremor124 of joy. He did not notice that his nephew gave a start at the sight of the minister. Mr. Egerton rose also and for an instant the two young men looked into each other's eyes with an expression of anything but amity125.
"Oh and it will be you, Donal'," cried the old man in a voice which trembled with pleasure. "Here is the minister come to call."
Donald came forward, clinging desperately126 to the forlorn hope that the conversation had not been overheard.
"Good evening, Mr. Egerton," he said in a rather constrained127 voice, holding out his hand; but the other young man did not seem to notice; perhaps the dusk accounted for his mistake.
"Good evening, Mr. McDonald," he said stiffly. "I have remained rather long," he continued, speaking to Duncan Polite and incidentally turning his back upon Donald. He shook hands with his host and without so much as a nod towards the younger man, started for the gate. Duncan followed him, protesting, but the minister could not stay. He did not seem to hear the old man's timid suggestion that Donald would be going down to the village, too, and would be glad to accompany him, but strode off alone, indignation displayed in every line of his fine, straight figure.
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pastor
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| n.牧师，牧人 | |
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systematic
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| adj.有系统的，有计划的，有方法的 | |
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lavishing
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| v.过分给予，滥施( lavish的现在分词 ) | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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chronic
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| adj.(疾病)长期未愈的，慢性的；极坏的 | |
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cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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dour
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| adj.冷酷的，严厉的；（岩石）嶙峋的；顽强不屈 | |
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apprehensions
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flicking
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的现在分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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highland
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| n.(pl.)高地，山地 | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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sweeping
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orchards
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| （通常指围起来的）果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
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intoxicating
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| a. 醉人的,使人兴奋的 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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tinkling
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revelling
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| v.作乐( revel的现在分词 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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accentuated
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scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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highlander
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| n.高地的人，苏格兰高地地区的人 | |
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ferment
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| vt.使发酵；n./vt.（使）激动，（使）动乱 | |
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25
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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26
contingency
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| n.意外事件，可能性 | |
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27
feud
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| n.长期不和；世仇；v.长期争斗；世代结仇 | |
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28
militant
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| adj.激进的，好斗的；n.激进分子，斗士 | |
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29
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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30
goodwill
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| n.善意，亲善，信誉，声誉 | |
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31
rubicund
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| adj.(脸色)红润的 | |
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32
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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34
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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35
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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36
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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37
withering
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| 使人畏缩的，使人害羞的，使人难堪的 | |
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38
wreak
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| v.发泄；报复 | |
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39
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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40
annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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41
influential
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| adj.有影响的，有权势的 | |
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42
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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43
incensed
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| 盛怒的 | |
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44
doctrine
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| n.教义；主义；学说 | |
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45
paternal
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| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
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46
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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47
appellation
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| n.名称，称呼 | |
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48
frivolous
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| adj.轻薄的；轻率的 | |
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49
alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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50
relaxation
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| n.松弛，放松；休息；消遣；娱乐 | |
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51
ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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52
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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53
bustled
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| 闹哄哄地忙乱，奔忙( bustle的过去式和过去分词 )； 催促 | |
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54
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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55
geniality
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| n.和蔼，诚恳；愉快 | |
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56
tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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57
warily
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| adv.留心地 | |
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58
versed
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| adj. 精通，熟练 | |
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59
dilating
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| v.（使某物）扩大，膨胀，张大( dilate的现在分词 ) | |
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60
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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61
gulp
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| vt.吞咽，大口地吸（气）；vi.哽住；n.吞咽 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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63
culpable
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| adj.有罪的，该受谴责的 | |
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64
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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65
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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66
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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67
beset
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| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
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68
honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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69
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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71
dictated
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| v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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72
beech
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| n.山毛榉；adj.山毛榉的 | |
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73
gad
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| n.闲逛；v.闲逛 | |
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74
tirade
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| n.冗长的攻击性演说 | |
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75
bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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76
whit
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| n.一点，丝毫 | |
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77
adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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78
felon
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| n.重罪犯；adj.残忍的 | |
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79
psalm
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| n.赞美诗，圣诗 | |
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80
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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81
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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82
rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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83
instilled
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| v.逐渐使某人获得（某种可取的品质），逐步灌输( instill的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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84
fervent
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| adj.热的，热烈的，热情的 | |
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85
scorching
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| adj. 灼热的 | |
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86
consecration
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| n.供献，奉献，献祭仪式 | |
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87
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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88
moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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89
motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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90
impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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91
drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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92
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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93
calves
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| n.(calf的复数)笨拙的男子，腓；腿肚子( calf的名词复数 )；牛犊；腓；小腿肚v.生小牛( calve的第三人称单数 )；（冰川）崩解；生（小牛等），产（犊）；使（冰川）崩解 | |
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94
heartiness
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| 诚实，热心 | |
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95
jig
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| n.快步舞（曲）；v.上下晃动；用夹具辅助加工；蹦蹦跳跳 | |
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96
demurred
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| v.表示异议，反对( demur的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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97
adage
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| n.格言，古训 | |
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98
hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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99
choir
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| n.唱诗班，唱诗班的席位，合唱团，舞蹈团；v.合唱 | |
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100
condescended
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| 屈尊，俯就( condescend的过去式和过去分词 )； 故意表示和蔼可亲 | |
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101
flop
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| n.失败(者)，扑通一声；vi.笨重地行动，沉重地落下 | |
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102
oblique
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| adj.斜的，倾斜的，无诚意的，不坦率的 | |
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103
hymns
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
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104
enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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105
ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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106
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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107
shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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108
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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109
unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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110
pulsation
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| n.脉搏，悸动，脉动；搏动性 | |
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111
amber
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| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
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112
transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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113
plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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114
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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115
soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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116
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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117
lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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118
disciple
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| n.信徒，门徒，追随者 | |
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119
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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120
hoots
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| 咄，啐 | |
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121
interspersed
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| adj.[医]散开的；点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
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122
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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123
skittish
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| adj.易激动的，轻佻的 | |
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124
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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125
amity
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| n.友好关系 | |
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126
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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127
constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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