"Julius has abdicated1, and Augustus reigns2 in his stead," remarked Prue, as she tore off the leaf of her calendar, which marked the first day of the eighth month. Prue was fond of making what she considered neatly3 erudite allusions4.
Matters had not been going well in the little grey house. Mrs. Grey found herself looking forward to the winter with dread6, a dread she tried to stifle7, for it was contrary to this brave woman's temperament8 and principles to look apprehensively9 toward the future.
Mr. Grey was working feverishly10 on his bricquette machine, more than ever absorbed in it; it seemed to his anxious wife as if he were putting into it his own vitality11, that it was consuming something far more precious than its inventor had ever dreamed would feed it. But, since she could not prevent the harm—if harm[81] were being done—Mrs. Grey strove to drive the thought of it from her, and bear her immediate12 burden, which was not too light.
It was a humid, sultry day, and many trying household tasks loomed13 ahead threateningly on the morning when Prue made her classic allusion5 as she tore off her calendar-leaf. Oswyth looked pale and tired. She was an expert little needle-woman and had been sewing hard through the heat to make old as good as new—which it never was and never will be—for Prue's return to school. Prue was very particular as to her raiment; poor child, it was hard to be the prettiest girl, and at the same time the poorest one, in the school. Wythie sympathetically thought and wrought14 to make her gowns as pretty and becoming as possible to offset15 their many reappearances, and the hardship of wearing the clothes one's elders had outgrown16. Even Rob, though she scoffed17 at Prue's little vanities, in her heart was sorry for the child who alone of the three was forced out among her contemporaries, and could not hide her deficiencies within the friendly walls of the little grey house.
Mrs. Grey had been waiting an opportunity to cover the two big arm-chairs in the parlor18. There was nothing that this energetic woman[82] could not do with her hands, and Rob said: "Give Mardy a package of dyes, a paper of tacks19, and a hammer, and you may look for anything, from a wedding-gown to a coach-and-four."
A certain faded poplin gown, in many pieces, and an old silk with brocaded stripes had long haunted Mrs. Grey as a hopeful source of new chair-covers. All the previous afternoon she had spent dipping the poplin into a big iron pot bubbling over the fire and bringing it up on the end of her "witch stick," as the girls called it, dripping and dark, to be hung out to dry.
Here appeared Mrs. Grey's generalship, for though the poplin had turned out a fine, uniform green, the pieces were much too narrow for upholstery. So she had cut out the brocade stripes from the old silk; the ancient sewing-machine, which made such a dreadful clatter20 and was one of the Greys' grievances21, yet which was still capable of good service, rattled22 and hummed under Mrs. Grey's feet, as she stitched the brocade bands at regular intervals23 on the dyed poplin, covering its many joinings. And behold24, the result was a fine upholsterer's tapestry25 of wool, with a silken stripe, and not a piecing to be seen!
"There's glory for you!" cried Rob. "Any[83]one would believe that we paid any amount a yard for that beautiful stuff."
"Put up your sewing, Wythie, and you and Rob stretch it and hold it in place for me while I tack," said Mrs. Grey. "I flatter myself these chairs are going to radiate splendor26 over the entire room."
"Come, then, Mardy; we'll help it radiate," said Rob. "Mercy, how dreadful it is to-day—worse than hot—so sticky and horrid27! Cat days are nicer than dog days, aren't they, Kiku-san? Now look at that catlet!" she added. Kiku-san had sprung from the table to the top of the door, on the narrow space of which he sat, head on one side, in his usual bird-like attitude, his white fur all streaks28 of dust. He was quite unable to get down as he had got up, and Rob said with a sigh: "Oh, dear; this means going to fetch a kitchen-chair to take him down! I wonder how many times a day we do this? And a grasshopper's a burden to-day, not to mention a heavy wooden chair. I never saw such a mischievous29 cat! And only look at him! Regular stained-glass expression; doesn't look as if he ever thought of anything but Watts's hymns30! He does this just to keep us trotting31, the demure32 villain33!" And Rob shook a forefinger34 at Kiku, who only tipped[84] his head a little more to one side, and puckered35 his mouth a little tighter, knowing perfectly36 that he was about to be rescued.
Rob came back dragging the chair disconsolately37 on its rear legs, and placing it under the doorway38, mounted it, seized Kiku-san by his forepaws, and pulled him down, giving him an admonitory and chastising39 pat as she set him free.
"You've got to take the chair back, Prue; I'm going to help Mardy, and I can't do all the fetching and carrying," said Rob, as she descended40.
Rob tossed her head and went toward the parlor without another word, and Prue departed upstairs, leaving the object of dissension where it stood. Wythie patiently picked it up and bore it away, and followed Rob to the parlor, where she and her mother were already fitting the beautiful new covering on the chair.
"It's splendid, Mardy; what a genius you are!" cried Wythie, dropping on her knees at her side of the chair. For a while they pulled and cut, and Mrs. Grey tacked42 in silence, except for the necessary directions. No one felt quite[85] cheerful, nor had superfluous43 energy to spend in speech.
Just as one chair was nearly finished a shadow fell across its arm, and Mrs. Grey and the girls looked up to see Aunt Azraella, who had entered unheard, watching them with her sternest look of disapproval44. "Ah, good-morning, Azraella," said Mrs. Grey, noting this and trying to speak brightly enough to avert45 its expression. "We are trying to forget the heat in the interest of hard labor46."
"So I see. Aren't you forgetting something besides the heat, Mary?" said this inflexible47 lady.
"Why, no; are we?" asked Mrs. Grey, surprised into a hasty mental inventory48 of possible duties unfulfilled or engagements broken.
"Aren't you forgetting that there are more necessary things than chair-covers?" demanded Aunt Azraella. "Aren't you forgetting the state of your finances, and that you can't afford the least extravagance? How much did you pay a yard for that material?"
Rob, foreseeing this question, had been engaged in a hasty mental estimate of the original cost of the poplin and the silk. "Dollar and a quarter for the woollen stuff—one seventy-five,[86] surely, for the brocade, when Mardy married, just—it cost precisely49 three dollars a yard, Aunt Azraella," she said aloud, before her mother could reply.
Mrs. Winslow held up her hands in horror, and Mrs. Grey said, reproachfully: "Rob, how can you?"
"I've no doubt the child speaks the truth," said Aunt Azraella, quickly.
"Thanks, aunt; I do try to," said Rob. "Mardy, you know it must have cost at least three dollars—both of it."
"And you don't think that disgraceful, as you are situated50?" began Mrs. Winslow, but her sister-in-law interrupted her. "Azraella," she cried—it was indicative of Aunt Azraella's character that on the hottest day, and under the stress of physical weariness, no one ever thought of abbreviating51 her name—"Azraella, aren't you used to Rob's pranks52 yet? This is my old grey poplin, dyed, and run together with the stripes of a handsome brocade I had when I was married. This scamp of a girl is giving you the original cost of both materials; I am very glad it looks well enough to deceive even your keen eyes."
But Aunt Azraella was not to be diverted from expressing the wrath53 which had been gath[87]ering on her brow since Mrs. Grey had begun explaining.
"Roberta is distinctly a trial," she said, severely54. "An unmannerly, impertinent girl. She may consider it funny to give me such a misleading answer, but I consider it most disrespectful."
"I was only trying to be cheerful, aunt," said Rob, her face crimson55, and struggling not only to speak quietly, but to speak at all. "I didn't intend to deceive you, but only to—well, to have a little fun before you found out the truth."
"I know perfectly that you always object to my interest in your affairs, but I consider your good more important than your likings. I shall always tell all of you—from your indolent father and your indulgent mother down—precisely what I think. It is my duty to be perfectly candid56 and truthful," said Mrs. Winslow with the air of a martyr57.
"Perfect candor58 is rather dangerous, Azraella," said Mrs. Grey, and Rob saw that she was having as much difficulty in speaking calmly as her inflammable self. "One should wait until it is sought, and then not indulge in its full expression, especially when one's opinions are offensive—such as an allusion to the head of a house as in[88]dolent, for instance. Mr. Grey has been working so hard of late that I am anxious about him. And you see that you judged rashly in pronouncing us extravagant59. We were rather priding ourselves on our clever thrift60. It is such a very humid, trying day, that it is not favorable to too great zeal61 for others."
When her gentle sister-in-law spoke62 with a certain calm deliberation, and a slight lowering of lids and lifting of eyebrows63, Mrs. Winslow was apt to read it as a danger-signal and retreat. At heart she stood in awe64 of her better-bred, better-born sister-in-law, and dared not press her too far. Aunt Azraella had a habit of seeking the little grey house as a lecture-field when affairs in her larger house went wrong.
"Well, Mary," she now began more mildly, "you know who it was that asked if he were his brother's keeper. I think it is our duty to exert ourselves for our neighbors, especially for our misguided kindred, and never to shrink from the utterance65 of a truth, however unwelcome. But you hold yourself entirely66 aloof67 from the affairs of others, and I suppose we shall never see the question alike. I want to tell you about Elvira—she is such a trial! And in this case you must advise me."
[89]
"Very well," said Mrs. Grey, with a sigh, seeing that Rob's tears of nervous wrath were falling, as she pretended to busy herself with the lining68 under the chair-seat, and resigning herself to listen for the unnumbered time to a recital69 of the wrong-doings of faithful Elvira, Mrs. Winslow's long-suffering "help," in the old-fashioned sense. It would all end as it always did; Elvira only failed in the small ways incident to humanity, and Aunt Azraella was wholly dependent upon her.
For a long time Mrs. Winslow recounted her woes70, while Mrs. Grey and Wythie and Rob pulled and tacked. How Elvira had insisted on placing the glasses on the second shelf of the cupboard when Mrs. Winslow had always kept them on the third; how she had resolutely71 clung to a cheesecloth duster where her mistress preferred silk, and a cloth-covered broom for cornices, where Mrs. Winslow, and her mother before her, had used a feather-duster, etc., etc., through the whole long list of pettiness which meant only that the August day was sultry and Aunt Azraella out of sorts.
At last she paused, and Mrs. Grey saw that she had talked herself into a better frame of mind, her troubles remedied in their recital. "I[90] wonder what would become of poor Elvira if Mrs. Winslow hadn't the little grey house as a safety-valve?" thought Mrs. Grey, but what she said aloud was what she always said under these circumstances: "After all, Elvira is a good, devoted72 creature, Azraella."
"Yes; I suppose I can't do better in Fayre than to keep her," said Aunt Azraella, responding in the set form to this liturgical73 remark. "I must go back, or she will have a chicken broiled74 for my supper. I told her I didn't want it, but she always does something of that sort when I have been annoyed. Send Prue up for some blackberries to-morrow, Mary. I have enough to let you have some for jam—possibly for cordial, too."
"Thank you; good-by, Azraella," said Mrs. Grey, and Rob arose to say good-by a trifle grimly, as Wythie escorted their relative to the door.
"Oh, dear," said Wythie, coming back and sitting flat on the floor beside the chair, now nearly done, in an attitude eloquent75 of exhaustion76, if not despair. "I really think, Mardy, if we could emigrate, we ought to; it's enough to turn a saint into a tiger to have such visits so often."
[91]
"They used to turn saints into tigers in the Colosseum very frequently in the early Christian77 era," said Rob, whose spirits always rose a few points when Wythie's went down.
"I think I'll leave the gimp till another day," said Mrs. Grey, straightening herself with difficulty, and drawing a long breath as she put her hand to her aching back. "As to emigrating, Wythie, you will have to emigrate to heaven to escape annoyances78. We have often agreed, you know, that Aunt Azraella is not wholly a trial; we shall enjoy her blackberries, for instance. I wish Rob could remember that she is utterly79 devoid80 of a sense of humor, and that people of that unfortunate sort usually resent nonsense as a personal affront81. Mercy! What's that?"
A crash of crockery and a scream echoed through the quiet house, bringing its master to his door to inquire what was wrong, and sending Rob upstairs in a rush, ejaculating but the one word: "Prue!"
Mrs. Grey and Wythie followed as fast as they could, and a mournful sight met their eyes. In the middle of Wythie and Rob's room stood Prue, dripping, and on the floor, in an absolutely unmendable wreck82, lay the water-pitcher83, with[92] an ugly scar on the front of the wash-stand to mark the course of its fall, while the matting was soaked in water.
"Quick! It will go through to the dining-room ceiling," cried Rob, snatching a towel and dropping on her knees to mop as though her life depended upon it, an example Wythie instantly followed.
Prue's tears were fast adding themselves to the general dampness. "Kiku was so black I thought I'd wash him," she sighed. "He struggled, and I really don't know what happened, but I knocked the pitcher off with my elbow, and—well, you see!"
"Rather!" said Rob, from her humble85 attitude. "Feel, too. My dress is getting as wet as the towel. There's one comfort: between them the dining-room ceiling will be safe; but oh, I did love that toilet-set!"
"And so did I," said Mrs. Grey, sadly, as she picked up one of the largest fragments and regarded it mournfully. "I bought it when I was married. I remember how proud I was of my new dignity when I made the purchase. Ah, well, Prue; accidents must befall; but I can't[93] help wishing that you had left Kiku to his dusty little self."
"So do I, Mardy," said Prue.
"And now Wythie and I have no pitcher," observed Rob, too tired and warm to find forgiveness easy.
"You needn't complain if Mardy doesn't," said Prue, sharply.
"Go change your dress, Prue; no one has complained nor blamed you," said her mother.
Prue retreated with bad grace, but in a moment called pleasantly from her room: "Here comes Mr. Flinders, Mardy. He looks glummer86 than usual."
"Go down, one of you girls; I'm really too tired to encounter him now," said Mrs. Grey, wearily. She had had many sore experiences of the farmer who carried on their garden on shares, and who was always ready to cut down their share to the minimum.
Rob arose with a sigh. There was a tacit understanding that in any matter of business it should be she, and not Wythie, who came to the front.
"Something has failed," she said, laconically87, speaking from past experience and the pessimism88 of a humid, tiresome89 day.
[94]
"Good day, Roberta," said Mr. Flinders, when Rob appeared at the door. "I'm afraid I've got to say what you won't want to hear."
"Very likely, Mr. Flinders," said Rob, drearily90. "I am so tired to-night there are few things I should want to hear."
"Well, the pertaters is doing bad—your pertaters," said Mr. Flinders. "I thought mebbe you'd want to know in time to engage some."
"Are they spoiled?" asked Roberta, aghast, for the failure of that particular crop meant serious misfortune for the winter.
"Well, what with dry-rot and bugs91, I guess you're not goin' to git many," said Mr. Flinders. "I thought mebbe you'd want to know," he ended, breaking down under the sternness of Roberta's dark eyes.
"Did the bugs and dry-rot attack only our potatoes?" she demanded.
"It's kinder diffused92, so to say," admitted the farmer, "but I guess it's fair to subtract the loss from yours mostly, because I've got to be made good for my trouble."
This was Farmer Flinders's invariable response, and Rob flashed fire. "Mr. Flinders," she said, "you can't share only profits—you've got to share losses, too. We're getting tired of it.[95] We'll send for someone to look over the garden, and decide the question of the proportion of loss on the spoiled crop, and we will settle exactly on the basis of one-third loss for us and two-thirds for you, just as we share profits."
"I wasn't aware, Roberta, you was runnin' the place. If you're managin', I'd like to be notified," said Farmer Flinders, rigid93 with offence.
"I'm the business one of the family," said poor Rob, with sudden inspiration, "and it will be as I say. I represent the Greys. We shall not accept less than our third of the good vegetables, and that notification will be all you need, Mr. Flinders."
She had never encountered the old fellow before, and she felt that he recognized and objected to the fact that here was youthful fire and determination to deal with, unlike her mother's gentleness or her father's easy methods.
"I'll see your father later," said the farmer, turning away ill at ease. "Good-day, Roberta."
"Good-day," said Rob, briefly94, and retraced95 her steps heavily upstairs. She found Wythie lying across the foot of their bed, and threw herself on her face beside her.
"What luck?" asked Oswyth, sleepily.
[96]
Rob punched and poked96 a pillow into shape, and looked morosely97 out of the window at the thunder-clouds piling up in the west, the result of the hot, sultry day.
"Oh, I barked at him. I think I shall have to see him in future; I believe I have more effect than mild Mardy and patient Patergrey," Rob said. "But, oh, I'm tired—tired of being vivacious98 and snappy and go-ahead. I'm tired, dead tired, of fighting, Oswyth. I'd like to lie down and be taken care of, like a little ewe lamb. There are two Robs in me; one is sneakingly cowardly, and wants only to curl up in a hole and hide; and the other says: 'S't, boy! sic 'em, Rob!' And I'm up and at it again—at fate, and hard times, and Aunt Azraella, and house-work, and Mr. Flinders, and all those horrors. And then the tired, meek99 Rob tears around obediently, and no one dreams it's all like thumb-screws and rack to her. I'm tired of my rôle of snapping-turtle, Wythie."
"Poor Rob!" said Oswyth, gently running her fingers in and out of Rob's beautiful, gleaming rings of hair, and stroking the mobile face, now twisting hard in its effort to laugh when the tears were very near falling.
"Don't mind me," said Rob, succeeding in[97] forcing a feeble laugh. "I'm tired, and it's been a fearfully humid, trying, tiresome, crooked100 day. Besides, we're going to have a thunder-storm, and electricity always makes me sick. Don't mind me."
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1
abdicated
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| 放弃（职责、权力等）( abdicate的过去式和过去分词 )； 退位，逊位 | |
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2
reigns
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| n.君主的统治( reign的名词复数 )；君主统治时期；任期；当政期 | |
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3
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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allusions
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| 暗指，间接提到( allusion的名词复数 ) | |
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5
allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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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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7
stifle
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| vt.使窒息；闷死；扼杀；抑止，阻止 | |
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temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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apprehensively
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| adv.担心地 | |
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feverishly
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| adv. 兴奋地 | |
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vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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14
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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offset
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| n.分支，补偿；v.抵消，补偿 | |
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16
outgrown
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| 长[发展] 得超过（某物）的范围( outgrow的过去分词 )； 长[发展]得不能再要（某物）； 长得比…快； 生长速度超过 | |
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17
scoffed
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| 嘲笑，嘲弄( scoff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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18
parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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tacks
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| 大头钉( tack的名词复数 )； 平头钉； 航向； 方法 | |
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clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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grievances
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| n.委屈( grievance的名词复数 )；苦衷；不满；牢骚 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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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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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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tapestry
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| n.挂毯，丰富多采的画面 | |
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splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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27
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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28
streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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hymns
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
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31
trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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32
demure
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| adj.严肃的；端庄的 | |
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villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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34
forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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35
puckered
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| v.（使某物）起褶子或皱纹( pucker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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37
disconsolately
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| adv.悲伤地，愁闷地；哭丧着脸 | |
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38
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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39
chastising
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| v.严惩（某人）（尤指责打）( chastise的现在分词 ) | |
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40
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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41
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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42
tacked
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| 用平头钉钉( tack的过去式和过去分词 )； 附加，增补； 帆船抢风行驶，用粗线脚缝 | |
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43
superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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44
disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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45
avert
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| v.防止，避免；转移(目光、注意力等) | |
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46
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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47
inflexible
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| adj.不可改变的，不受影响的，不屈服的 | |
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48
inventory
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| n.详细目录，存货清单 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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51
abbreviating
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| 使简短( abbreviate的现在分词 )； 缩简； 缩略； 使用缩写词 | |
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52
pranks
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| n.玩笑，恶作剧( prank的名词复数 ) | |
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53
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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55
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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candid
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| adj.公正的，正直的；坦率的 | |
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martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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candor
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| n.坦白，率真 | |
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59
extravagant
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| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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60
thrift
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| adj.节约，节俭；n.节俭，节约 | |
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zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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62
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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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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aloof
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| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
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lining
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| n.衬里，衬料 | |
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recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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woes
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| 困境( woe的名词复数 )； 悲伤； 我好苦哇； 某人就要倒霉 | |
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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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liturgical
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| adj.礼拜仪式的 | |
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broiled
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| a.烤过的 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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annoyances
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| n.恼怒( annoyance的名词复数 )；烦恼；打扰；使人烦恼的事 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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devoid
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| adj.全无的，缺乏的 | |
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affront
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| n./v.侮辱，触怒 | |
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82
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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pitcher
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| n.(有嘴和柄的)大水罐；(棒球)投手 | |
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prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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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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glummer
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| adj.闷闷不乐的，忧郁的( glum的比较级 ) | |
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laconically
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| adv.简短地，简洁地 | |
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pessimism
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| n.悲观者，悲观主义者，厌世者 | |
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tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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drearily
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| 沉寂地，厌倦地，可怕地 | |
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bugs
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| adj.疯狂的，发疯的n.窃听器( bug的名词复数 )；病菌；虫子；[计算机]（制作软件程序所产生的意料不到的）错误 | |
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diffused
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| 散布的，普及的，扩散的 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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retraced
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| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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96
poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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morosely
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| adv.愁眉苦脸地，忧郁地 | |
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98
vivacious
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| adj.活泼的，快活的 | |
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99
meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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100
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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