This state of affairs brought down many a wrathful condemnation3 from the ruling elder upon the heads of the young minister and all his generation. Andrew Johnstone had well-nigh lost all hope of the young man's ever accomplishing any good. But he and Duncan Polite still clung to one straw. Every winter the Methodists held a series of revival5 services, and this year the Presbyterian Church was to be asked to join them. Such friendly relations had been established between the two denominations6 since Mr. Egerton's arrival in Glenoro that this was at last possible. Andrew and his friend looked to this period of special services as an anchor in the great tide of worldliness which, to them, seemed to be sweeping7 away their church.
But when the Methodist minister approached his brother clergyman with the proposition, Mr. Egerton was compelled to give a reluctant refusal. He was grieved at his inability to help Mr. Ansdell in any undertaking8, but he had already promised all his spare time and energy to a scheme of the schoolmaster's. Early in the winter Mr. Watson had dropped into the minister's study, his small, thin face full of eagerness.
"Look here, Mr. Egerton," he said, tilting9 his chair back against the wall, "let's get up a patriotic10 society this winter; it'll keep things lively."
The young clergyman was already beginning to realise that he had very little time for reading or study and scarcely relished13 the thought of additional engagements. "What should you do at the meetings, for instance?" he asked.
"Why not make it a literary society, and study one of the poets; don't you think that would be better?"
Mr. Watson did not look satisfied. "I don't believe you're half patriotic," he said banteringly, "but I'll make a bargain with you. I know a literary society would be a good thing, and I'll go in for it head and feet, if you'll promise to call it the Canadian Patriotic Society, and let's talk about Canada for ten minutes or so before you begin on your poets."
John Egerton was rather pleased with the idea. Certainly young Canadians were grievously ignorant of their own country, and a literary society would supply a great want.
So the Canadian Patriotic Society was duly organised and from the first was a great success.
But a quiet weekly meeting at a private house was not sufficient for the insatiable energy and fervid15 patriotism16 of Mr. Watson. He decided17 that the Canadian Patriotic Society must come before the public. His last attempt at a patriotic demonstration18 had met with such humiliating disaster that he had abandoned all such projects for a time, but here was a grand opportunity to educate the public. They would give a patriotic concert that very winter and astonish all the township of Oro. Of course the society was ready for anything and was soon plunged19 in monster preparations for the event. It was at this juncture20 that Mr. Egerton was asked to assist in the period of revival services. But this new society and its concert completely filled his spare time, so the two weeks of special meetings, when the old minister laboured faithfully to bring souls to Christ, were carried on without help from his young confederate. The attendance was smaller than on former occasions, and the interest seemed faint. John Egerton was sorely troubled. He felt he could not be blamed, and yet his conscience rebuked21 him.
In spite of its immense popularity the Canadian Patriotic Society met with some opposition22. As the minister was taking such an active part in it, Duncan Polite watched its development with a faint hope. But Splinterin' Andra soon dispelled23 his illusions. "It's jist some more o' his balderdash to keep young folk oot o' their beds at night," he declared bitterly. "Man, if the buddie'd be faithful to his Maister, he needna' fear for his country!"
Old Mark Middleton, whose forebears were United Empire Loyalists, was another active dissenter24. Mark's ancestry25 placed him in a position to speak with authority upon such subjects and his opinion had some weight with the community. He declared that the whole thing savoured of rebellion, and he, for one, would be very glad if he were sure the schoolmaster and the Presbyterian minister weren't hatching some Irish plot against the Government.
Coonie found this a tempting26 morsel27, and delivered it duly to the schoolmaster the first Saturday he found him at the corner. "Awful sorry to hear about the row you'n the minister are gettin' into," he remarked sympathetically, as he crawled into the store, and pulled his poor, half-frozen limbs up to the stove.
Mr. Watson turned sharply from the contemplation of the pound of butter Mrs. Watson had cautioned him to bring home, and stared at the speaker.
"What on earth do you mean?" he inquired incredulously.
"Why, didn't you hear?" Coonie's tone was a master-piece of pained amazement28. "Why, old Middleton's kickin' like a steer29 about this patriotic concert you're gettin' up. Says he bets it's another Mackenzie business all over, and he'll have the law if it ain't stopped. An' Splinterin' Andra says that a minister o' the Gospel who——"
"Oh, go along, Coonie!" cried the other, much relieved. "You're surely old enough to know that Mr. Egerton's got more sense than to pay attention to anything quite so pre-historic as Splinterin' Andra! And as for old Mark," he continued impressively, "you can tell him, from me, that if there'd been a few more concerts like this long ago, William Lyon Mackenzie couldn't have raised a rebellion and wouldn't have wanted to if he could."
Coonie shook his head doubtfully. "'Fraid it would only make trouble. Mark says it's all danged nonsense. Awful language that old man uses!" He sighed piously30, and, lighting31 his pipe, proceeded to make himself comfortable.
"Well, I'll tell you one thing," he continued seriously, putting his feet on the top of the stove and expectorating into the open damper at a perilous32 distance, "I'll tell you one thing. This here dispenser o' religion you've got in this town tries to run too many shows at once. He's tryin' to keep the Gospel trade hummin' an' have his eye on all the fun that's goin' at the same time. I ain't up in the religion business myself; there ain't likely to be any wings sproutin' 'round where I'm at, but I can tell a minister from an alligator33 seven days in the week, an' without specs, too, an' the first time I laid eyes on that chap you've got now, I knew he wasn't the sort that made folks hop4 along to Heaven any faster than they wanted to go."
"You certainly ought to be a competent judge of a minister's duty, Coonie," replied the schoolmaster sarcastically34.
Mr. Basketful paused in the operation of weighing the butter. "Coonie's right," he said, with conviction. "Mr. Egerton can preach, but 'e's not wot I call spiritually minded."
"That's it!" cried Coonie. "That's the word I'm rummagin' for; he's a sort o' sleigh-ridin', tea-meetin' parson. I didn't take much stock in old Cameron when he was livin'; you couldn't take a chaw o' tobacco without him knowin' about it, but all the same he was the genu-ine article. It was uncomfortable times for sinners when he was 'round. This chap's different grade; he needs a label on him."
Mr. Watson went out, banging the door in disgust, and Coonie kept himself warm for many a mile past Glenoro, chuckling35 over his joke.
But the schoolmaster was too enthusiastic to be depressed36 by such ignorant opposition. He felt that he was creating an epoch37 in Canadian history; he was stirring up a sentiment which would permeate38 the whole country from Halifax to Vancouver and from the international boundary to the north pole, a sentiment which would fire the lukewarm blood of this people and bring glory and honour upon Canada and George Watson.
If he had remained long enough in Glenoro, he might have witnessed a condition of affairs which would have surprised him. Could he have seen the boys he had taught in the school, grown to men, pushing and jostling each other in their jealous and frantic39 efforts to be of the glorious chosen few who marched away to uphold the old flag on the African veldt, could he have foreseen that the disloyal young Neil, who had been the first on that shameful40 Dominion41 Day to throw away his flag and desert his country, would one day face a whole regiment42 for Queen and Empire, he might have confessed that he had mistaken British reticence43 for lack of sentiment. But the schoolmaster, though whole-souled and well-meaning, was not by any means far-seeing, so he went on stirring up a spirit of loyalty with an energy worthy44 of a better cause.
Through it all John Egerton was dissatisfied and worried. He felt positively45 grieved over the loss of an opportunity to show his appreciation46 of Mr. Ansdell's friendship, and he knew that the elder people of his own congregation blamed him. He had another trouble, too, which he scarcely confessed to himself; it was the strange, subtle change in Jessie Hamilton. When Donald ignored his humble47 letter, his repentant48 mood had slowly vanished. He told himself the young man was all he had suspected, and not worth his trouble. He would have resumed his attentions to Jessie with a clear conscience, but was met by a gentle but firm opposition. He was puzzled and annoyed by the change in her. She was as sweet and friendly towards him as of old, but her manner of timid deference49 seemed to have changed to an intangible air of superiority. The young pastor could not know that she had passed far beyond him on the spiritual road, and the distance between them bewildered him. He began to realise too, to his chagrin50, that she was avoiding him. No matter what pains he took to seek her company, she managed, in some mysterious way, to elude51 him. He wondered gloomily how much Donald Neil had to do with the change.
But soon all personal affairs had to be set aside, for the date of Mr. Watson's great celebration had arrived. Whatever diverse opinions there may have been in the community regarding the aims of the patriotic society, all seemed unanimous in regard to attending their entertainment. The concert was to be given in the Methodist Church, while tea was served previously52 in the Temperance Hall across the street.
At an early hour eager spectators began to pour in.
Inside the hall, waiters, struggling through the crowd around the tables, left more cake and pie upon the human obstructions53 around them than they carried to the hungry folks already seated. Turkey, sandwiches, cake and pie disappeared as if by magic, as the long tables were filled again and again.
Waiters flew, dishes rattled54, babies cried and everyone talked and laughed and made a noise. And every five minutes the door would fly open, creaking on its frosty hinges, to admit a rush of chill, fresh air and still another crowd.
The cooking had been done on a tremendous scale, and the results were beyond praise. The North and the South had "played a drawn55 game," Wee Andra declared; for even Mr. Egerton, seated with the Methodist minister at the head of the longest and most heavily-laden board, was unable to detect one slight shade of greater excellence56 in one than the other and ate Northern pies and Southern tarts57 with an impartial58 relish12.
He and Mr. Watson succeeded after supper in extricating59 themselves from the hungry crowd. They crossed the street to where the windows of the church gleamed warm and bright.
"Well, Watson," said the minister encouragingly, "the crowd is here at any rate, whether it's a patriotic one or not."
"Yes siree!" The schoolmaster was in high spirits. "If it's not patriotic now, I'll bet my head it will be before we're done with them. This is all owing to our efforts!"
But John Egerton did not share his enthusiasm. He was watching morosely60 three figures that were just disappearing into the church ahead of him. They were Jessie and her father and mother. She had formed the habit lately of going out only with her parents, and when they remained at home she stayed with them, much to their wonder and delight. When he entered the church he found her safely ensconced between the two, and knew there was no opportunity for him to gain a word with her.
"Here comes the choir61!" announced a voice from the back, as the broad shoulders of Wee Andra heralded62 their approach. That august body walked leisurely63 to their seats of honour in a bower64 of evergreens66 behind the organ, secure in the knowledge that the meeting could not possibly commence without them. They were soon settled in their places, and Syl Todd found to his unspeakable delight that he was seated next to Maggie Hamilton. His father and mother, seated in the front row, nudged each other in ecstasy67 at the sight of their son sitting up there on the platform with the minister and the schoolmaster and looking far handsomer and better dressed than either of them.
But poor Syl did not derive68 as much enjoyment69 from his proud position as did his parents. Maggie was extremely difficult. "Ain't the decorations lovely," he remarked, by way of a propitiatory70 opening of conversation. "If it hadn't a' been for you, Maggie, them flags wouldn't a' been hung near so graceful71."
His divinity jerked herself round impatiently. "Oh, my goodness, I wish something else had been hung besides flags," she said with heartless meaning.
Syl laughed nervously72. "Oh Maggie, you are such a tease! I never seen such a monkey of a girl as you. Look here what I got you." He handed her a little white candy tablet on which was printed a sentimental74 inscription75. "I bought three pounds of them congregational lozengers at Basketful's to-day jist for you."
Maggie glared at the unoffending piece of confectionery, but did not deign76 to touch it. "My, but you must have thought I could eat like a horse!" she remarked scathingly. "You can give them to Julia Duffy," and she flounced out of the seat to another at some distance, leaving Syl to endure an evening of tormenting77 doubt as to whether he might see her home.
Mr. Watson came bustling78 over nervously to confer with the choir leader. "The crowd's nearly all here, do you think we'd better start, Andrew?"
"Jist as you like," was the reply. Wee Andra was of too huge proportions to be moved by any excitement. "There's Mr. Thomas Hayes, M. P., no less, comin' in at the door now!" he added, stretching his neck to get a view of the other end of the church and sending a rather unstable79 cedar80 tree and a deluge81 of flags crashing upon the organ. "Gosh, I've pulled down the whole shootin' match!"
Mr. Hayes was the Member of Parliament for Glenoro's constituency, as well as the Burke of the Flats, Oro's Irish settlement. He was the only orator82 honoured with an invitation to address the meeting. Mr. Watson hurried down the aisle83 to welcome the distinguished85 visitor, amid a hail-storm of conversation lozenges. When he had been brought to the platform and duly honoured everything was in readiness.
Glenoro custom demanded that all such affairs should be opened with prayer, but in his capacity of chairman, Mr. Watson did not see fit to call upon either clergyman to perform that ceremony; the programme was long enough, he reflected, and the praying could be dispensed86 with easier than anything else. The audience settled into expectant silence as Mr. Egerton arose and in a few well-chosen words explained the double mission of the Patriotic Society, and the aim of its entertainment. His audience listened attentively87, and, judging from the applause that followed, seemed to be quite in sympathy with the movement. It is true that some of the babies, not yet old enough to realise their glorious heritage, occasionally interrupted his remarks, and one disloyal youth shied a "congregational lozenger" across the room; but the speaker did not appear at all disturbed.
The programme which followed was one calculated to arouse the most sluggish88 soul present. The choir sang quite thrillingly "The Maple89 Leaf Forever"; the mouth organ and concertina band played "Upon the Heights of Queenston" four times through without stopping to take breath; while the boys at the back of the church kept time vigorously with their feet. During the performance Sim Basketful made several ineffectual excursions to that abandoned region to demand order, but was met by a fusillade of confectionery. Wee Andra roared out "The Battle of the Baltic" at the top of his prodigious90 lungs, and was thunderously encored. The fact that in his exit he once more knocked over the evergreen65 tree with its burden of flags detracted not one whit73 from either his or Nelson's glory. Then Annie Fraser played "The Battle of Waterloo" on the organ with an execution quite worthy of the carnage of that event. The only drawback to it was that Sandy Neil, who had been detailed91 to announce each different part of the action, and apprise92 the audience of the fact that certain sounds meant "cannonade," while others symbolised the "cries of the wounded," as usual allowed his spirit of mischief93 to carry him away. He sang out the names of the different movements in the long-drawn-out tone associated with "calling-off" at a dance, much to the horror of the staider portion of the audience. Mrs. Fraser told 'Liza Cotton afterwards that it just gave her a turn with her heart to see her Annie sitting right up there in the midst of such iniquity94.
Crooked95 Sandy McDonald, who was as straight as a pine stem, but who lived under the misfortune of his ancestor's distinguishing appellation96, and who, next to Syl Todd, was the best elocutionist in the neighbourhood, recited "The Charge of the Light Brigade"; and though he said "Half a leak" owing to the inconvenience of a Highland97 accent, he rendered the selection with such vim98 that his efforts brought down the house, and a deluge of lozenges.
Such a warlike programme had never before been heard in the township of Oro. The very air seemed to smell of gunpowder99. The schoolmaster was electrified100. He sprang to his feet almost before the Light Brigade had ceased charging, and announced in a voice high and tremulous with emotion that the auspicious101 moment had come, for they were now to be favoured with the great feature of the evening, a patriotic address by Mr. Thomas Hayes, Member of Parliament!
Mr. Hayes arose with the ease and deliberation of an old election campaigner. He was a tall, lean man, with bright penetrating102 eyes, and a delightful103 suspicion of an Irish brogue, a man with hands horny from the plough and a brain that belongs only to the rulers of men. He represented a political party that had its stronghold in Glenoro and its impregnable fortress104 in the Oa; so he took his place upon the platform amid uproarious stamping and cheering.
Canada could not well have had a better champion. He spoke106 in the most glowing terms of his beloved land, of her wonderful scenery, her healthful climate, her free, hardy107 people, her glorious future. He reeled off enough information about her mines, her fisheries, her agricultural resources and her manufactures to fill an encyclopedia108. He dilated109 upon the beauty and grandeur110 of Canadian scenery. He stood his audience upon the heights of Quebec and showed them the whole panorama111 of their wonderful country in one sentence. He swept from ocean to ocean; he swam the great lakes and sailed down innumerable rivers; he scooped112 out a canal to Port Nelson and shot across Hudson's Bay; he rolled across the prairies; he hewed113 down the forest belt; he dug gold in British Columbia; and, finally, he climbed the highest snow-capped peak of the Rocky Mountains and poured down from its dizzy heights the torrents115 of his eloquence116; and when his bewildered hearers recovered from the delightful deluge, they found that the exponent117 of the Canadian Patriotic Society had skipped across the Atlantic and was thundering forth118 upon the wonders and beauty of Ireland!
This was a long way from Canada and the aims of the Canadian Patriotic Society, and the chairman's face lost its rapt look. John Egerton hid a smile behind the pulpit desk and that part of the audience that was of Irish extraction applauded uproariously. When, after nearly half an hour's lauding119 of the Emerald Isle84, the orator did stop, he was so carried away by his own feelings that he wound up with a stanza120, recited most thrillingly, from "Erin-go-Bragh" and sat down amid deafening121 applause without referring in the remotest way to his original text.
Mr. Watson was rising to announce the next piece, in a rather doubtful mood, when a voice from the back called out, with no uncertain sound as to either the sentiments or the origin of its owner, "Wot's the matter with England?"
There was a roar of laughter and a loud clapping of hands. Mr. Hayes arose again. He was too old a politician not to see that he had made a mistake in his one-sided speech. He was about to supplement it, and was beginning "Ladies and Gentlemen," when a loud voice from the centre of the church interrupted him.
Mr. Sim Basketful had sat with an expression of utter boredom122 during the latter portion of the member's speech, finally working himself up into a volcanic123 mood as it neared an end. His face was purple and his short, thick neck showed veins124 standing125 out dangerously. He might have held down his righteous indignation had it not been for the challenge from the back of the room, but the sight of that "blathering Irishman" rising in response to it was too much. Mr. Basketful was not of Mr. Hayes' political opinions and, besides that, was his rival upon tea-meeting platforms. He had convinced himself that it was due to the Presbyterian minister's interference that he, a Methodist, had been denied the honour of being the speaker of the evening. He, a class-leader in the very church where the performance was given, to be set aside for that Irish Catholic! He would show them all a thing or two before he sat down. He was standing now, looking straight ahead of him, and grasping the back of the seat before him, with true Saxon doggedness.
"Mr. Chairman, Ladies and Gentlemen," he shouted, and Mr. Hayes, who had met Sim Basketful many a time in his political campaigns, sat down, somewhat disconcerted.
"Mr. Chairman, Ladies and Gentlemen, if there's anybody in this 'ere haudience wants to know wot's the matter with Hingland, I'm 'ere prepared to state, sir, that there ain't one bloomin' thing the matter with 'er!" (Loud cheers from his Anglo-Saxon hearers.) "And wot's more, Ladies and Gentlemen and Mr. Chairman, I think it's 'igh time we were 'earin' just a little about that country that's made us all wot we are!" (Applause, mingled126 with noises of an indefinite character.) "We've been 'earin' a lot o' nonsense about Hireland and Hirish scenery and Hirish soldiers, but wot I'd like to be hinformed about, Ladies and Gentlemen and Mr. Chairman, is if anybody in this 'ere haudience is under the himpression that a Canadian Patriotic Society is a Hirish society!"
The withering127 contempt of the last words, and the cheers they elicited128, brought the first speaker indignantly to his feet. Not one word could he get in, however. Mr. Basketful was a true Briton, and with the aid of a voice which drowned all competitors he clung to his theme with magnificent tenacity129. When the noise calmed sufficiently130 for him to be heard, the audience found that he was discoursing131 fiercely and doggedly132 upon the inimitable land of his birth.
Sandy Neil, his eyes dancing, slipped out of his place in the choir, and made his way softly down the aisle at the side of the church. "Catchach's down there," he whispered to the choir leader as he passed; "I'm goin' to stir him up;" and Wee Andra threw back his head with a laugh which blew out the lamp on the organ.
But none of these things moved the patriotic Englishman. He was launched upon his favourite theme, his native land, and was irresistible133. England was the only country in the world. He stamped, he sawed the air, he used metaphors134 and similes135 and hyperboles in a vain endeavour to give some idea of her glory. He eulogized her commerce, her statesmen, her Queen. He brought up her infantry136, he charged with her cavalry137, he poured upon his hearers her heavy artillery138. And at last, backed by the whole great English navy, he swept every other country off the face of the globe and retired139 to his seat behind the stove, the Wellington of one last, grand, oratorical140 Waterloo.
Mr. Egerton reached over and, catching141 the distracted chairman by the sleeve, shouted above the din11 that if he wanted to avoid further trouble he must either close the meeting or make the choir sing something, and be quick about it. The chairman arose and strove to make his voice heard above the noise, but the chirping142 of a sparrow in a tempest would have been as effectual.
For down at the other end of the church a most alarming tumult143 was in progress. Cries of "Order!" and "Sit down!" were mingled with "Go on, Catchach; speak up! Scotland forever!" and equally ominous144 sounds.
Through the struggling crowd a man was fighting his way fiercely to the platform.
"Order! Order!" shrieked145 the chairman. But the disorderly person had reached the platform, his red whiskers flying, his blue eyes blazing, and his big fists brandishing147 threateningly above his head. It was Catchach! The schoolmaster sat down very discreetly148 and hastily. It was Catchach, worked up to a white fury over the insult to Scotland—Scotland, the flower of creation, to be neglected, while the scum of the earth was being exalted149!
"Mister Chairman, Ladies an' Chentlemen!" he shouted, "I will not pe a public spoke, as you will pe knowing, put—" he went off into a storm of Gaelic, but suddenly checked himself, at the roars of laughter from his Sassenach enemies. The ridicule150 saved him—and Scotland. He had been incoherent with rage, but that laugh steadied him, and settled him into a cold fury. He would make a speech for the glory of Scotland now, if they pulled the church down about his ears. And he did it well, too. England was forgotten, Ireland was in oblivion, Canada did not exist. But Scotland! the land of the Heather and the Thistle! Catchach grew wildly poetic151 over her. The noise of English groans152 and Irish jeers153 and Scottish applause was so great that much of the effusion was lost, but in the intervals154 of the uproar105 could be caught such snatches as, "Who iss it that hass won efery great pattle in the last century? Ta Hielanders!" "Who won ta pattle of Palacklafa? Ta Hielanders!" "Who stormed ta heights of Awlma? Ta Hielanders!"
On he swept down to the last page of history, shouting the answers to this glorious catechism with a ferocious155 defiance156 that challenged denial; and at every shout there was an answering roar from the inhabitants of the Oa which threatened to dislodge the roof.
The distracted chairman had not the courage to attempt to stem the torrent114. He did not care to obtrude157 himself inside Catchach's range of vision, for before he was done with Scotland the orator was rolling up his sleeves and calling out like Goliath of Gath for all the township of Oro to come forward and contradict him. Many of the audience became alarmed, and some of the older folk were starting for the door, when at last the flow of fiery158 eloquence ceased. How he ever managed to stop, no one could understand; some people said they supposed he had come to the limit of his English. If Catchach had been able to address his audience in Gaelic, it is likely they would not have seen their homes until morning.
But he did stop at last, and went tearing down the aisle and out of the door, shaking the dust of the place from off his feet. The back row arose in a body, and went roaring after him, for Catchach in a rage was better than all the patriotic demonstrations159 on earth.
The meeting broke up in complete disorder146. The hour was unconscionably late, and the remainder of the long inspiriting programme had perforce to be omitted. Those of the audience who remained sang "God Save the Queen" in a rather distracted fashion and hurried away with the firm conviction that a patriotic concert was an exceedingly improper160 performance.
As the unhappy chairman and his confederate were leaving the scene of their disappointment Sim Basketful brushed violently past the Irish orator and confronted them. He informed them in a choking voice that if the Presbyterians were contemplating161 getting up any more such disgraceful performances, they would see that they were held in their own church, as the Methodists objected to having their place of worship turned into a den1 of thieves.
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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pastor
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| n.牧师，牧人 | |
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condemnation
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| n.谴责; 定罪 | |
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hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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revival
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| n.复兴，复苏，（精力、活力等的）重振 | |
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denominations
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| n.宗派( denomination的名词复数 )；教派；面额；名称 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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tilting
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| 倾斜，倾卸 | |
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patriotic
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| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
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din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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relished
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| v.欣赏( relish的过去式和过去分词 )；从…获得乐趣；渴望 | |
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loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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fervid
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| adj.热情的；炽热的 | |
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patriotism
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| n.爱国精神，爱国心，爱国主义 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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juncture
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| n.时刻，关键时刻，紧要关头 | |
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rebuked
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| 责难或指责( rebuke的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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dispelled
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| v.驱散，赶跑( dispel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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dissenter
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| n.反对者 | |
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25
ancestry
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| n.祖先，家世 | |
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26
tempting
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| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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27
morsel
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| n.一口，一点点 | |
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28
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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29
steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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30
piously
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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31
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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32
perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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33
alligator
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| n.短吻鳄(一种鳄鱼) | |
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34
sarcastically
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| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
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35
chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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36
depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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37
epoch
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| n.(新)时代；历元 | |
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38
permeate
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| v.弥漫，遍布，散布；渗入，渗透 | |
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39
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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40
shameful
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| adj.可耻的，不道德的 | |
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41
dominion
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| n.统治，管辖，支配权；领土，版图 | |
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42
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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43
reticence
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| n.沉默，含蓄 | |
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44
worthy
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|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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45
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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46
appreciation
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|
| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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47
humble
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|
| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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48
repentant
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|
| adj.对…感到悔恨的 | |
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49
deference
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|
| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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50
chagrin
|
|
| n.懊恼；气愤；委屈 | |
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51
elude
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|
| v.躲避，困惑 | |
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52
previously
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|
| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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53
obstructions
|
|
| n.障碍物( obstruction的名词复数 )；阻碍物；阻碍；阻挠 | |
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54
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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55
drawn
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|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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56
excellence
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|
| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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57
tarts
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|
| n.果馅饼( tart的名词复数 )；轻佻的女人；妓女；小妞 | |
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58
impartial
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|
| adj.(in,to)公正的，无偏见的 | |
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59
extricating
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|
| v.使摆脱困难，脱身( extricate的现在分词 ) | |
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60
morosely
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|
| adv.愁眉苦脸地，忧郁地 | |
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61
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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62
heralded
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|
| v.预示( herald的过去式和过去分词 )；宣布（好或重要） | |
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63
leisurely
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|
| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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64
bower
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|
| n.凉亭，树荫下凉快之处；闺房；v.荫蔽 | |
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65
evergreen
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|
| n.常青树；adj.四季常青的 | |
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66
evergreens
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|
| n.常青树，常绿植物，万年青( evergreen的名词复数 ) | |
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67
ecstasy
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|
| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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68
derive
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| v.取得；导出；引申；来自；源自；出自 | |
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69
enjoyment
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|
| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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70
propitiatory
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|
| adj.劝解的；抚慰的；谋求好感的；哄人息怒的 | |
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71
graceful
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|
| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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72
nervously
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|
| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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73
whit
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|
| n.一点，丝毫 | |
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74
sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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75
inscription
|
|
| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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76
deign
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|
| v. 屈尊, 惠允 ( 做某事) | |
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77
tormenting
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| 使痛苦的，使苦恼的 | |
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78
bustling
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|
| adj.喧闹的 | |
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79
unstable
|
|
| adj.不稳定的，易变的 | |
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80
cedar
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|
| n.雪松，香柏(木) | |
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81
deluge
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|
| n./vt.洪水，暴雨，使泛滥 | |
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82
orator
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|
| n.演说者，演讲者，雄辩家 | |
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83
aisle
|
|
| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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84
isle
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|
| n.小岛，岛 | |
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85
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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86
dispensed
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|
| v.分配( dispense的过去式和过去分词 )；施与；配（药） | |
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87
attentively
|
|
| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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88
sluggish
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|
| adj.懒惰的，迟钝的，无精打采的 | |
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89
maple
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|
| n.槭树，枫树，槭木 | |
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90
prodigious
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|
| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
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91
detailed
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|
| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
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92
apprise
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|
| vt.通知，告知 | |
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93
mischief
|
|
| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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94
iniquity
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|
| n.邪恶；不公正 | |
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95
crooked
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|
| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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96
appellation
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|
| n.名称，称呼 | |
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97
highland
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|
| n.(pl.)高地，山地 | |
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98
vim
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|
| n.精力，活力 | |
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99
gunpowder
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|
| n.火药 | |
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100
electrified
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|
| v.使电气化( electrify的过去式和过去分词 )；使兴奋 | |
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101
auspicious
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|
| adj.吉利的；幸运的，吉兆的 | |
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102
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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103
delightful
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|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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104
fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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105
uproar
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|
| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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106
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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107
hardy
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|
| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
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108
encyclopedia
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|
| n.百科全书 | |
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109
dilated
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|
| adj.加宽的，扩大的v.（使某物）扩大，膨胀，张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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110
grandeur
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|
| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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111
panorama
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|
| n.全景，全景画，全景摄影，全景照片[装置] | |
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112
scooped
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|
| v.抢先报道( scoop的过去式和过去分词 )；（敏捷地）抱起；抢先获得；用铲[勺]等挖（洞等） | |
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113
hewed
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|
| v.（用斧、刀等）砍、劈( hew的过去式和过去分词 )；砍成；劈出；开辟 | |
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114
torrent
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|
| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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115
torrents
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|
| n.倾注；奔流( torrent的名词复数 )；急流；爆发；连续不断 | |
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116
eloquence
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|
| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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117
exponent
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|
| n.倡导者，拥护者；代表人物；指数，幂 | |
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118
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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119
lauding
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| v.称赞，赞美( laud的现在分词 ) | |
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120
stanza
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| n.（诗）节，段 | |
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121
deafening
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|
| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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122
boredom
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|
| n.厌烦，厌倦，乏味，无聊 | |
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123
volcanic
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| adj.火山的；象火山的；由火山引起的 | |
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124
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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125
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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126
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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127
withering
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| 使人畏缩的，使人害羞的，使人难堪的 | |
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128
elicited
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| 引出，探出( elicit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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129
tenacity
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| n.坚韧 | |
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130
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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131
discoursing
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| 演说（discourse的现在分词形式） | |
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132
doggedly
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|
| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
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133
irresistible
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|
| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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134
metaphors
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| 隐喻( metaphor的名词复数 ) | |
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135
similes
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| （使用like或as等词语的）明喻( simile的名词复数 ) | |
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136
infantry
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| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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137
cavalry
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|
| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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138
artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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139
retired
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|
| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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140
oratorical
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|
| adj.演说的，雄辩的 | |
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141
catching
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|
| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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142
chirping
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|
| 鸟叫，虫鸣( chirp的现在分词 ) | |
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143
tumult
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|
| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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144
ominous
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|
| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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145
shrieked
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|
| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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146
disorder
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|
| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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147
brandishing
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| v.挥舞( brandish的现在分词 )；炫耀 | |
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148
discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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149
exalted
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|
| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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150
ridicule
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|
| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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151
poetic
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| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
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152
groans
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| n.呻吟，叹息( groan的名词复数 )；呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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153
jeers
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| n.操纵帆桁下部（使其上下的）索具；嘲讽( jeer的名词复数 )v.嘲笑( jeer的第三人称单数 ) | |
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154
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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155
ferocious
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| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
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156
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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157
obtrude
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| v.闯入；侵入；打扰 | |
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158
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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159
demonstrations
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| 证明( demonstration的名词复数 )； 表明； 表达； 游行示威 | |
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160
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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161
contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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