As the wheels and the two old gentlemen rumbled4 and the Bird's family clucked and crooned, with only an occasional irritated squawk, I, for the first time since the landslide5 of our fortune, began to take real thought of the morrow.
"Yes, landslide is a good name for what is happening to us, and I hope we'll slide or land on the home base, whatever is the correct term in the national game that Matthew has given up trying to teach me to enjoy," I said to myself as I settled down to look into our situation.
I found that it was not at all astonishing that father had lost all the fortune that my mother had left him and me when she died three years ago. It was astonishing that the old dreamer had kept it as long as he had, and it was only because most of it had been in land and he had from the first lived serenely7 and comfortably on nice flat slices of town property cut off whenever he needed it. He had been a dreamer when he came out of the University of Virginia ten years after the war, and it had been the tragedy of Uncle Cradd's life that he had not settled down with him on the very broad, but very poor, ancestral acres of Elmnest, to slice away with him at that wealth instead of letting himself be captured in all his poetic8 beauty at a dance in Hayesville by a girl whose father had made her half a million dollars in town land deals. Uncle Cradd's resentment9 had been bitter, and as he was the senior of his twin brother by several hours, he demanded that father sell him his half of Elmnest, and for it had paid his entire fortune outside of the bare acres. In poetic pride father had acceded10 to his demand, lent the money thrust upon him to the first speculator who got to him, and the two brothers had settled themselves down twenty miles apart in the depths of a feud11, to eat their hearts out for each other. The rich man sought a path to the heart of the poor man, but was repulsed12 until the day after the spectacular failure of his phosphate company had penetrated13 into the wilds of little Riverfield, and immediately Uncle Cradd had hitched14 up the moth-eaten string in his old stables and come into town for us, and in father's sweet old heart there was never an idea of not, as he put it, "going home." I had never seen Elmnest, but I knew something of the situation, and that is where the Golden Bird arrived on the situation. The morning after our decision to return to the land—a decision in which I had borne no part but a sympathetic one after I had listened half the night to father's raptures16 over Uncle Cradd as a Greek scholar with whom one would wish to spend one's last days—the February copy of "The Woman's Review" arrived, and on the first page was an article from a woman who earns five thousand dollars a year with the industrious17 hen on a little farm of ten acres. There were lovely pictures of her with her feathered family, and I decided18 that what a woman with the limited experience of a head stenographer19 in a railroad office could do, I, with my wider scope of travel and culture, could more than double on three hundred acres of land in the Harpeth Valley. Some day I'm going to see that woman and I'm going to stop by and speak sternly to the editor of "The Woman's Review" on my way.
"Mr. G. Bird," I began as I reached this point and I saw that we were arriving in the heart of civilization, which was the square of a quaint20 little old town. From a motor-car acquaintance, I knew this to be Riverfield, but I had never even stopped because of the family pride involved in the feud now dead. "Mr. Bird," I repeated, "I am afraid I am up against it, and I hope you'll stand by me." He answered me by preening21 a breast feather and winking22 one of his bright eyes as Uncle Cradd stopped the ancient steeds in the center of the square, before a little old brick building that bore three signs over its tumble-down porch. They were: "Silas Beesley, Grocer," "U.S. Post-Office," and "Riverfield Bank and Trust Co."
"Hey, Si, here's William come home!" called Uncle Cradd, as a negro boy with a broad grin stood at the heads of the slow old horses, who, I felt sure, wouldn't have moved except under necessity before the judgment23 day. In less time than I can take to tell it father descended24 literally25 into the arms of his friends. About half a dozen old farmers, some in overalls26 and some in rusty27 black broadcloth the color of Uncle Cradd's, poured out of the wide door of the business building before described, and they acted very much as I have seen the boys at Yale or Princeton act after a success or defeat on the foot-ball field. They hugged father and they slapped him on the back and they shook his hand as if it were not of human, sixty-year-old flesh and blood. Then they introduced a lot of stalwart young farmers to him, each of whom gave father hearty29 greetings, but refrained from even a glance in my direction as I sat enthroned on high on the faded old cushions and waited for an introduction, which at last Uncle Cradd remembered to give me.
"This is Miss Nancy Craddock, gentlemen, named after my mother, and she's going to beat out the Bend in her chicken raising, which she's brought along with her. Come over, youngsters, and look her over. The fire in the parlor30 don't burn more than a half cord of wood on a Sunday, and you can come over Saturday afternoon and cut it against the Sabbath, with a welcome to any one of the spare rooms and a slab31 of Rufus's spare rib28 and a couple of both breakfast and supper muffins." All of the older men laughed at this sweeping32 invitation, and all the younger greeted it with ears that became instantly crimson33. I verily believe they would one and all have fled and left me sitting there yet if a diversion had not arrived in the person of Mrs. Silas, who came bustling34 out of the door of the grocery or post-office or bank; whichever it is called, is according to your errand there. Mrs. Si was tall, and almost as broad as the door itself, with the rosiest35 cheeks and the bluest eyes I had ever beheld36, and they crinkled with loveliness around their corners. She had white water-waves that escaped their decorous plastering into waving little tendril curls, and her mouth was as curled and red-lipped and dimpled as a girl's. In a twinkling of those blue eyes I fell out of the carriage into a pair of strong, soft, tender arms covered with stiff gray percale, and received two hearty kisses, one on each cheek.
"God bless you, honeybunch, and I'm glad William has brought you home at last, the rascal37." As she hugged me she reached out a strong hand and gave father first a good shake by his shoulder and then by his hand.
"Fine girl, eh, Mary?" answered father as he returned the shoulder shake with a pat on the broad gray percale back, and retained the strong hand in his, with a frank clinging.
I wondered if—
"She's her Aunt Mary's blessed child, and I will have her making riz biscuits like old Madam Craddock's black Sue for you two boys in less than a week," she answered him, with a laugh that somehow sounded a bit dewy.
"Oh, do you know about chickens, Mrs.—I mean, Aunt Mary?" I asked as I clung to the hand to which father was not clinging.
"Bless my heart, what's that I see setting up on old Madam Craddock's cushions? Is it a rooster or a dream bird?" she answered me by exclaiming as she caught sight of Mr. G. Bird sitting in lonely state, but as good as gold, upon the rose-leather cushions. "I thought I feathered out the finest chickens in the Harpeth Valley, but this one isn't human, you might say," and as she spoke38 she shook off father and me, and approached the carriage and peered in with the reverence39 of a real poultry40 artist. "Bless my heart!" she again exclaimed.
"Those are just Miss Nancy's whims42 to take the place of her card-routs and sinful dancing habits," said Uncle Cradd, with a great and indulgent amusement as all the little crowd of native friends gathered around to look at the Bird family.
"Say, that rooster ought to have been met with a brass43 band like they did Mr. Cummins' horse, Lightheels, after he won all those cups up in the races at Cincinnati," said the tallest of the young farmers, whose ears had begun to assume their normal color.
"And a sight more right he has to such a honor, Bud Beesley," replied Aunt Mary, with spirit, as she stroked the proud head of the Golden Bird. "It takes hens and women all their days to collect the money men spend on race-horses sometimes, my son."
"Well, Mary, I reckon you aren't alluding44 to this pair of spanking45 grays I've got; but in case you are getting personal to them, I think we had better begin to go. Come, get in with the Whim41 family, Nancy, and let's be traveling. It's near on to a mile over a mighty46 rough road to the house from the gate here. Everybody come and see us." As he spoke Uncle Cradd assisted me with ceremony into the chariot beside the Golden hero of the hour, and started the ancient steeds into a tall old gate right opposite the bank-store-post-office. As he drove away something like warm tears misted across my eyes as I looked back and saw all the goodwill47 and friendliness48 in the eye of the farmer friends who watched our departure.
"That, Ann, is the salt of the earth, and I don't see how I consumed life so long without it," said father as he turned, and looked at me with a sparkle in his mystic gray eyes that I had never seen there when we were seated at table with the mighty or making our bow in broadcloth and fine linen49 in some of the palaces of the world. I didn't know what it was then, but I do now; it is a land-love that lies deep in the heart of every man who is born out in meadows and fields. They never get over it and sometimes transmit it even to the second generation. I felt it stir and run in my blood as we rumbled and bumped up the long avenue of tall old elm-trees that led through deep fields which were even then greening with blue-grass and from which arose a rich loamy fragrance50, and finally arrived at the most wonderful old brick house that I had ever seen in all of my life; it seemed to even my much traveled eyes in some ways the most wonderful abode51 for human beings I had ever beheld. It was not the traditional white-pillared mansion52. It was more wonderful. The bricks had aged3 a rich, red purple, and were rimmed53 and splotched with soft green and gray moss54 under traceries of vines that were beginning to put out rich russet buds. The windows were filled with tiny diamond panes55 of glass, which glittered in the gables from the last rays of the sun setting over Old Harpeth, and the broad, gray shingled56 roof hovered57 down over the wide porch which would have sheltered fifty people safely. A flagstone walk and stone steps led up from the drive, seemingly right into the wide front door, which had small, diamond-paned, heavily shuttered windows in it, and queer holes on each side.
"To shoot through in case of marauding Indians," answered Uncle Cradd to my startled question, which had sprung from a suspicion that must have been dictated58 by prenatal knowledge. As I entered the homestead of my fathers I felt that I had slipped back into the colonial age of America, and I found myself almost in a state of terror. The wide old hall, the heavy-beamed ceiling of which was so low that you felt again hovered, was lighted by only one candle, though a broad path of firelight lay across the dark polished floor from the room on the left, where appeared old Rufus enveloped59 in a large apron60 no whiter than the snowy kinks on his old head.
"Time you has worship, Mas' Cradd, my muffins and spare ribs61 will be done," he said after he had bestowed62 a grand bow first upon father and then upon me, with a soft-voiced greeting of "sarvant, little Mis', and sarvant, Mas' William."
"It is fitting that we render unto the Lord thankfulness for your return home with Nancy, your child, William, in the first moments of your arrival. Come!" commanded Uncle Cradd, and he led us into a huge room as low ceilinged and dark-toned as the hall. In it there was only the firelight and another dim candle placed on a small table beside a huge old book. With the surety of long habit father walked straight to a large chair that was drawn63 close to the hearth64 on the side opposite the table, behind which was another large chair of exactly the same pattern of high-backed dignity, and seated himself. Then he drew me down into a low chair beside him, and I lifted up my hands, removed my hat, and was at last come home from a huge and unreal world outside.
As I sat and gazed from the dark room through a large old window, which was swung open on heavy hinges to allow the sap-scented breeze to drift in and fan the fire of lingering winter, out into an old garden with brick-outlined walks and climbing bare rose vines upon which was beginning to be poured the silver enchantment66 of a young moon, Uncle Cradd, in his deep old voice, which was like the notes given out by an ancient violin, began to read a chapter from his old Book which began with the exhortation67, "Let brotherly love continue," and laid down a course of moral conduct that seemed so impossible that I sat spellbound to the last words, "Grace be with you all. Ahmen."
Then I knelt beside father, with old Rufus close behind our chairs, and was for the first time in my life lifted on the wings of prayer and carried off up somewhere I hadn't been before. As Uncle Cradd's sonorous68 words of love and rejoicing over our return rolled forth69 in the twilight70, I crouched71 against father's shoulder, and I think the spirit of my Grandmother Craddock, whom I had heard indulging in a Methodist form of vocal72 rejoicing which is called a shout, was about to manifest itself through me when I was brought to earth and to my feet by a long, protracted73, and alarmed appeal sent forth in the voice of the Golden Bird.
"Keep us and protect us through the night with Your grace. Ahmen! Why didn't you put those chickens out of the way of skunks74 and weasels, Rufus, you old scoundrel," rolled out Uncle Cradd's deep voice, dropping with great harmony from the sublime75 to the domestic.
Then, with Rufus at my heels, I literally flew through the back door of the house towards the sound of distress76 that had come from that direction. In front of a rambling77 old barn, which was silvered by the crescent that hung over its ridge-pole, stood the chariot, and at its door, with Mr. G. Bird in his arms, I saw that man Adam.
"He didn't recognize my first touch," came across the moonbeams in a voice as fluty as the original Pan's, and mingled78 with friendly chuckles79 and clucks from the entire Bird family as they felt the caress80 of long hands among them. I was so ruffled81 myself that I felt in need of soothing82; so I came across the light and into the black shadow of the old coach.
"Oh, I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come!" I exclaimed.
After my ardent83 exclamation84 of welcome to Pan I stood still for fear he would vanish into the moonlight, because with his litheness86 and the eerie87 locks of hair that even in the silvering radiance showed a note of crimson cresting88 over his ears, he looked exactly as if he had come out of the hollow in some oak-tree.
"I thought you might feel that way about it," he answered me, or rather I think that is what he said, because he was crooning to me and the Ladies Bird at the same time, and with a mixture of epitaphs and endearments89 that I didn't care to untangle. "There, there, lovely lady, don't be scared; it is going to be all right," he soothed91, as he lifted one of the fluffy92 biddies and tucked her under his arm.
"Oh, I am so glad you think so," I claimed the remark by exclaiming, while she made her claim by a contented93 little cluck.
"Now don't be bothered, sweetheart," he again said, as he picked up another of the Ladies Bird and turned towards the huge old tumble-down barn that was yawning a black midnight out into the gray moonlight. "Let's all go into the barn and settle down to live happily together ever after."
"I think that will be lovely," I answered, while beautiful Mrs. Bird made her reply with a consenting cluck. I never supposed I would make an affirmative answer to a domestic proposal that was at least uncertain of intent, but then I also never dreamed of being in the position of guardian94 to eleven head of prize live stock, and I think anything I did or said under the circumstances was excusable.
"Don't you want to come with me and bring the cock with you. Old Rufus wouldn't touch one of them for a gold rock," he asked, and I felt slightly aggrieved95 when I discovered that I was to know when I was being addressed by a lack of any term of endearment90, though the caressing96 flutiness of Adam's voice was the same to me as to any one of the Ladies Leghorn.
"Naw, Marster, chickens am my hoodoo. To tetch one makes my flesh crawl like they was walking on my grave, and if little Mis' will permit of me, I wanter git back to see to the browning of my muffins ginst the time Mas' Cradd rars at me fer his supper," and without waiting for the consent he had asked, old Rufus shuffled97 hurriedly back into the house.
"I'll bring Mr. Golden Bird. I adore the creeps his feathers give me," I said as I reached in the coach and took the Sultan in my arms. He gave not a single note of remonstrance98, but I suppose it was imagination that made me think that he fluffed himself into my embrace with friendly joy.
"Come on, let's put them for to-night over in the feed-room. There, ladies, did you ever see a greater old barn than this?" As he spoke to us he led the way with four of the admiring and obedient Ladies, in his arms, while the fifth, who was I, followed him into the deep, purple, hay-scented darkness.
"I never did see anything like it," I answered, while only one of the Leghorn ladies gave a sleepy cluck of assent99 to their part of the question.
I really did have a thrill of pure joy in that old barn. It wasn't like anything I had ever seen before, and was as far removed from a garage as is a brown-hearted chestnut100 burr from a soufflé of maroons101 served on a silver dish. I could hear the moth-eaten string of steeds munching102 noisily over at one end of the huge darkness, and the odor that arose from their repast was of corn and not of suffocating103 gasoline. Tall weeds and long frames with teeth in them, which gave them the appearance of huge alligator104 mouths yawning from the dusk to snap me, pressed close on each side. Straps105 and ropes and harness were draped from the beams and along the walls, and the combined aroma106 of corn and hay and leather and horses seemed an inspiration to a lusty breath.
"There, sweeties, is a nice smooth bin65 for you to go to bed on," said Adam as he set the Ladies Leghorn one by one from his arms on the edge of a long narrow box that was piled high with corn. "Now you stay here with them until I bring the rest. Put your Golden Bird down beside the biddies, and I'll bring the others to put on the other side of him to roost, and in the morning he can begin scratching for a happy and united family." With which command Pan disappeared into the purple darkness and left me alone in the snapping monster shadows with only the sleepy Golden Bird for company. The Bird shook himself after being deposited beside the half-portion of his family, puffed107 himself up, sank his long neck into his shoulders, and evidently went to sleep. I shivered up close to him and looked over my shoulder into the blackness behind the teeth and then didn't look again until I heard the soft pad of the weird108 leather shoes behind me.
"Now all's shipshape for the night," said Pan as he spread out his armful of feathers into a bunchy line on the edge of the bin. "Just throw them about two double handfulls of mixed corn and wheat down in the hay litter on the floor at daybreak and keep them shut up and scratching until you are sure none of them are going to lay. From the red of their combs I judge they will all be laying in a few days."
"Yes; they ought to be got to work as soon as they hop6 off the roost," answered Pan, as he spread a little more of the hay on the floor in front of the perch110 of the Bird family.
"How do I know it—I mean daybreak?" I asked, with eagerness and hesitation111 both in my voice, as Pan started padding out through the monster-haunted darkness towards the square of silver light beyond the huge door. As I asked my question I followed close at his heels.
"I'll be going through to Plunketts and I'll call you, like this." As we came from the shadows into the moonlight beside the coach, Adam paused and gave three low weird notes, which were so lovely that they seemed the sounds from which the melody of all the world was sprung. "I'll call twice, and then you answer if you are awake. If not, I'll call again."
"I'll be awake," I asserted positively112. "Won't you—that is, must I fix—"
"That's all for to-night, and good night," he answered me with a laugh that was as reedy as the brisk wind in the trees. In a second he was padding away from me into the trees beyond the garden as swiftly as I suppose jaguars113 and lithe85 lions travel.
"Oh, don't you want some supper?" I called into the moonlight, even running a few steps after him.
"Supper am sarved, little Mis'," Rufus announced from the hack116 door, as I stood still looking and listening into the night.
"Uncle Cradd," I asked eagerly at the end of the food prayer that the old gentleman had offered after seating me with ceremony behind a steaming silver coffee urn15 of colonial pattern, of which I had heard all my life, "who is that remarkable117 man?"
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1
ambled
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| v.（马）缓行( amble的过去式和过去分词 )；从容地走，漫步 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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rumbled
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| 发出隆隆声，发出辘辘声( rumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 轰鸣着缓慢行进； 发现…的真相； 看穿（阴谋） | |
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landslide
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| n.(竞选中)压倒多数的选票；一面倒的胜利 | |
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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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serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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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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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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acceded
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| v.（正式）加入( accede的过去式和过去分词 )；答应；（通过财产的添附而）增加；开始任职 | |
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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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repulsed
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| v.击退( repulse的过去式和过去分词 )；驳斥；拒绝 | |
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penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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hitched
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| （免费）搭乘他人之车( hitch的过去式和过去分词 )； 搭便车； 攀上； 跃上 | |
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urn
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| n.（有座脚的）瓮；坟墓；骨灰瓮 | |
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raptures
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| 极度欢喜( rapture的名词复数 ) | |
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industrious
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| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
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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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stenographer
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| n.速记员 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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preening
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| v.（鸟）用嘴整理（羽毛）( preen的现在分词 ) | |
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winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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overalls
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| n.（复）工装裤；长罩衣 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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rib
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| n.肋骨，肋状物 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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rosiest
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| adj.玫瑰色的( rosy的最高级 )；愉快的；乐观的；一切都称心如意 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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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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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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poultry
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| n.家禽，禽肉 | |
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whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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WHIMS
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| 虚妄，禅病 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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44
alluding
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| 提及，暗指( allude的现在分词 ) | |
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45
spanking
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| adj.强烈的，疾行的；n.打屁股 | |
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46
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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47
goodwill
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| n.善意，亲善，信誉，声誉 | |
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48
friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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49
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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50
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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51
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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52
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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53
rimmed
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| adj.有边缘的，有框的v.沿…边缘滚动；给…镶边 | |
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54
moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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55
panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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56
shingled
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| adj.盖木瓦的；贴有墙面板的v.用木瓦盖(shingle的过去式和过去分词形式) | |
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57
hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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58
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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59
enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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61
ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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62
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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63
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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64
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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65
bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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66
enchantment
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| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
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67
exhortation
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| n.劝告，规劝 | |
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68
sonorous
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| adj.响亮的，回响的；adv.圆润低沉地；感人地；n.感人，堂皇 | |
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69
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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70
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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71
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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72
vocal
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| adj.直言不讳的；嗓音的；n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
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73
protracted
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| adj.拖延的；延长的v.拖延“protract”的过去式和过去分词 | |
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74
skunks
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| n.臭鼬( skunk的名词复数 )；臭鼬毛皮；卑鄙的人；可恶的人 | |
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75
sublime
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| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
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76
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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77
rambling
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| adj.[建]凌乱的，杂乱的 | |
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78
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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79
chuckles
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的名词复数 ) | |
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80
caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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81
ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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82
soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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83
ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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84
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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85
lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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86
litheness
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87
eerie
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| adj.怪诞的；奇异的；可怕的；胆怯的 | |
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88
cresting
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| n.顶饰v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的现在分词 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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89
endearments
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| n.表示爱慕的话语，亲热的表示( endearment的名词复数 ) | |
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90
endearment
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| n.表示亲爱的行为 | |
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91
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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92
fluffy
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| adj.有绒毛的，空洞的 | |
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93
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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94
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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95
aggrieved
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| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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96
caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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97
shuffled
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| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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98
remonstrance
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| n抗议，抱怨 | |
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99
assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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100
chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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101
maroons
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| n.逃亡黑奴（maroon的复数形式）vt.把…放逐到孤岛（maroon的第三人称单数形式） | |
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102
munching
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| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的现在分词 ) | |
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103
suffocating
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| a.使人窒息的 | |
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104
alligator
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| n.短吻鳄(一种鳄鱼) | |
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105
straps
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| n.带子( strap的名词复数 )；挎带；肩带；背带v.用皮带捆扎( strap的第三人称单数 )；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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106
aroma
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| n.香气，芬芳，芳香 | |
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107
puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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108
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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109
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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110
perch
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| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
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111
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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112
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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113
jaguars
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| n.（中、南美洲的）美洲虎( jaguar的名词复数 ) | |
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114
parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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115
fluting
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| 有沟槽的衣料； 吹笛子； 笛声； 刻凹槽 | |
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116
hack
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| n.劈，砍，出租马车；v.劈，砍，干咳 | |
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117
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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