“My dear boy, you are only feeling what I think most British boys feel at some period of their school days, a longing1 for an adventurous2 life, no matter what the outcome of it may be. Of course you can’t see one inch beyond your nose, that’s not to be expected, any more than that you should consider my feelings in the matter. You want to go to sea and that’s enough—for you; but, Frank, aren’t your mother and father to be thought of at all? I know of course that sailors are necessary and all that, but what little I know of a sailor’s life and prospects3 makes me feel that it is the last profession on earth that I should choose for my son, especially after I have impoverished4 myself to fit you to take your place in the great firm with which I have been honourably5 connected for the last thirty years. There will always be plenty of youngsters with unhappy homes and neglected education to take up the business of seafaring, boys who have[2] got nothing else to look forward to ashore6. But you’re not one of those, are you?”
The speaker, Mr. Frank Brown, was a man who occupied a responsible position in the counting-house of a great manufacturing firm in the North of England. Steady, faithful, if humdrum7, service had raised him from almost the lowest position in the office to the post he had held for the last twelve years at a salary of £500 a year. He was happily married, and had three children, two daughters aged9 twelve and sixteen respectively, and a son, to whom he was now speaking, who came between them, that is, he was now fourteen; a fine, healthy, and intelligent lad.
But while Mr. Brown was almost a model member of that great middle class which, in spite of what sensationalists may say, is in very truth the backbone11 of our country, his horizon was exceedingly limited by his particular business. Outside of it he was almost densely13 ignorant of the world’s affairs. All his abilities, and they were undoubtedly14 high, had been always concentrated upon his duties at the office, and he had been repaid by a life devoid15 of care and external difficulties. It never even occurred to him what “going to sea” meant for his native land, namely, her existence as a nation. He did not know that there was any difference between the Navy and the Merchant service, only thought of the sailor as a picturesque16, careless figure who led a life full of adventure but empty of profit to himself, a rolling stone who could never be expected to gather any moss17.
And he was a perfect type of many thousands of[3] his class, whom it is impossible not to admire, while bewailing the narrowness of their minds, the restriction18 of their intellectual boundaries. He had never contemplated19 the possibility of his son striking out an original line for himself, having in his own mind mapped out that son’s career, and now when in stammering20 accents and blushing like a girl that son had suddenly announced his determination to “go to sea,” he was filled with dismay. His mental vision showed him a hirsute21 semi-piratical individual reeking22 of strong liquors and rank tobacco, full of strange oaths and stranger eccentricities23, but entirely24 lacking in the essential elements of “getting on,” which, to tell the truth, was to Mr. Brown the chief end of man.
Now Frank junior cared for none of these latter things, because he had never thought about them. Food and clothes and home comforts came as did the sunshine and the air. From his earliest recollection he had never needed to concern himself with any of his wants, because they were supplied in good time by the care of his dear mother. A perfectly25 healthy young animal, and free from vice8 because he had led a sheltered life, he had given no trouble, but having lately taken to reading stories of adventure, principally of the sea, he had suddenly felt the call of the wild, the craving26 of the bird reared in the cage to escape therefrom upon seeing a wild bird fly past or upon inhaling27 a breath from the forest or field. This primal28 need held him, and so, although he hardly knew how to express himself, he stood his ground, and to his father’s address only replied, “I feel I must go, Dad. I don’t know why,[4] but I feel I shan’t ever do any good here. Do let me go.”
And that was all they could get out of him. The tears of his mother and the expostulations of his father were equally of no use, and besides, it must be admitted that he was secretly encouraged (which was needless) by his eldest29 sister, who said, “I glory in you, Frank; if I was only a boy I’d go, see if I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t stick on this mill-horse round day after day, never getting any further forward, not I. I’m proud of you, old chap.”
Many a private confabulation did these two hold together, the subject always being the glorious adventure of a sailor’s life, the splendid opportunity of seeing the world and of doing the things that stay-at-homes only read about and gape30 over, until the boy was ready to do anything, however foolish, to gratify his craving. But, like many other boyish fancies, I think this might have worn off, if it hadn’t been for a circumstance occurring accidentally just then which clinched31 matters.
The family went, as they usually did, to Lytham for their summer holiday, Mr. Brown chuckling32 at the thought that while they could enjoy the sea-air his boy would not have much chance to pursue his hobby, even though so closely in touch with the sea, from the absence of shipping33. And for a little while it seemed as if in his enjoyment34 of bicycling, swimming, and boating, which all the family were fond of, Frank had forgotten his desire for a sailor’s life, the subject being tacitly dropped.
[5]Then one day when they were all having a pleasant sail in a small boat, a piece of carelessness on the part of the boatman caused the main sheet to jam just as a sudden puff35 of wind came down and heeled her over. In a moment all of them were struggling in the water, and a tragedy was imminent36. But a smart little yacht ran down to them and, how they never knew, in a few minutes they were all rescued and were being swiftly carried shoreward very wet and frightened, but extremely grateful to their preserver, a hale, seaman37-like man of about sixty years of age, who handled his little vessel38 as if she was part of himself.
On reaching the shore Mr. Brown begged their preserver, who had introduced himself as Captain Burns, retired39 master mariner40, to visit them at their hotel that evening in order that he might be properly thanked for his great skill and opportune41 help. The captain accepted gaily42, but made light of his services, and hoping that they would feel no ill effects from their ducking, bade them good-bye until the evening.
“What an adventure,” said Mr. Brown, “and what a splendid man that Captain Burns is, to be sure, a regular old sea-dog.” Then he stopped and looked at his son, who, with flushed face and sparkling eyes, was evidently enjoying to the full this episode so much to his taste.
From then until the evening the talk, however much the father and mother might try to change the subject, ran continually upon the merits of sailors, especially their resource and courage in time of danger; and the parents sighed repeatedly[6] as they realised how the event of the day was working, in spite of themselves, against their cherished hopes.
But when the captain arrived to dinner and allowed himself to be drawn43 out by Frank, telling marvellous tales of adventure in foreign lands and on lonely, stormy seas, even the staid father felt his breath come short and his heart swell44, and he began to enter into the feelings of his boy, who hung entranced upon every word which fell from the captain’s lips.
At last, during a momentary45 lull47 in the conversation, Mr. Brown said hesitatingly, “I am afraid, captain, that your yarns48, marvellously interesting as they are, will frustrate49 all the pains I have been taking lately to persuade my boy that he ought to give up his idea of going to sea. You seem to have magnetised him. I thought he was enthusiastic before, but I am afraid he won’t listen to my reasoning at all now.”
There was a dead silence for a minute or two, during which Frank looked pleadingly at his parents, and the captain was evidently embarrassed. Then the latter broke the awkward pause by saying, “If I have come athwart your wishes in any way, Mr. Brown, with regard to my young friend here, I’m very sorry. And you’ll know I had no intention of so doing. But you’ll know, too, that when a British boy feels the call of the sea he doesn’t need any encouragement to make him persevere50 in his attempts to get to it, and everything told him in order to discourage him only seems to have the opposite effect. I’m sure I feel that what I’ve said[7] about my experiences, although I don’t deny that I am proud to have gone through them, ought to make anybody feel that any life was preferable to a sailor’s. But when you come to think of it, there is something splendid in the way in which our youngsters crave51 to face danger and hardship in a calling which has done so much to make our good old country what it is. Goodness knows where we should be without this fine young spirit, for you know we must have sailors, or what would become of us as a nation?”
“There, there,” burst in Mr. Brown hastily, “don’t say any more. You convince me against what I consider my own better judgment52, and I don’t mind admitting that, although it has cost us many a bitter pang53 to bring ourselves to the idea of parting with our only son, my wife and I agreed last night that we would no longer oppose him in his wishes. But we want advice as to the best means of gratifying his wish, so that he may get the most effective start possible in the profession. I am quite ignorant of everything concerning the beginning of a sea career, but I am absolutely convinced of the necessity of starting right in any undertaking54. So I shall be grateful for any advice you can give me on the matter.”
“Good man,” replied the captain, “you can count on me to do all I can for him. First of all I assume that he is healthy and hardy55, and that his eyesight is all right as regards colour blindness; for I may as well tell you at once, that unless that is all right, it is absolutely useless for him to give another thought to a seafaring career. But we can[8] settle that at once. Here, Frank, let me put you through your first examination.”
And the captain, amidst the keenest interest on the part of the whole family, proceeded to question the boy as to the colour of everything in the room. In five minutes he professed56 himself perfectly satisfied that, whatever else Frank might fail in, his eyesight was all right.
Frank gave a great sigh of relief, and the captain went on to say that on the morrow he would write to several shipping firms known to him who owned sailing ships—he didn’t believe in steamers for beginners—and when he had learned their terms, and what vacancies57 were available, he would let Mr. Brown know, and advise him further as to his choice.
After which he took his leave with a fervent58 handshake from Frank, who looked upon him as a sort of hero-deliverer who had come just in the nick of time to save his hopes from being thwarted59. The parents, as might be expected, did not feel any such enthusiasm; yet even they were relieved, as people usually are when, after a long period of indecision, they have made up their minds to a certain course, however distasteful such a course has once appeared to them.
Three days afterwards Captain Burns again called on the Browns with a lot of correspondence from his ship-owning acquaintances, and after carefully going over the merits of each opening presented, gave his advice to accept the offer of quite a small firm in Liverpool, owning three barques of medium size, from 800 to 1200 tons, usually making very[9] long voyages to out-of-the way parts of the world, wherever, in fact, they could get remunerative60 freights, no easy thing in these days of universal steamer competition.
He gave as his reason that this firm was not a limited company, but privately61 owned, and that the owners took a direct interest in the welfare of their servants, especially of their apprentices62, whom they looked upon as their personal protégés, for whose well-being63 they were directly responsible. The premium64 they demanded was £50 for four years, half of which was returnable as wages. The requisite65 outfit66 would cost, so the captain said, about twenty pounds, and the total cost for the four years would be, or rather should be, less than £100. And if his advice were taken to accept the terms of Messrs. Chadwick & Son, Frank would within three weeks be at sea and his career begun, as they had a ship now loading for several ports in the South Sea Islands. She was a nice handy barque of about 1000 tons, only about fifteen years old, and he (the captain) knew her very well as being a most comfortable ship.
Of course, having put himself implicitly67 in the captain’s hands, Mr. Brown had no criticisms or objections to offer, or any reasons for delay. And so the next few days were very busy ones for both him and his son, and they made many visits to Liverpool under the guidance of the captain, who seemed to know everybody and his way about everywhere. They found the owner very courteous68 and sympathetic, but did not see the master of the Sealark, as the barque was called, he being at[10] home in Scotland on leave. They saw the vessel though, going on board of her in the Brunswick Docks, where she lay awaiting her cargo69.
Both Frank and his father were very quiet as they explored the vessel’s cabin and fo’c’sle, under the guidance of the worn-out old sailor who was acting70 as shipkeeper, Captain Burns not being with them. Everything looked so cold, and cheerless, and forlorn. Besides, there was a smell hanging about everywhere as of decaying things or bad drainage, which made both of them feel quite faint and sick, in spite of the keen wind which was blowing across the ship, and seemed to search every corner of it.
At last Mr. Brown, unable to subdue71 his curiosity any longer, asked the old seaman whatever the stench could mean, Frank listening eagerly for the answer.
“Oh,” replied the shipkeeper, “she’s just home from the Chinchee Islands with guanner, and that stinks72 about as bad as anything I knows on.”
“Do you mean to say, then,” asked the father, “that the poor fellows who sailed this ship had to bear this horrible smell all the voyage?”
“Oh no,” answered the ancient mariner, “only on the passage home, about three months and a half. And then, you see, as they had the full flavour of it while they was aloading her, they’d got so used to it they wouldn’t notice it when they got to sea. It wasn’t near so bad then, although it was wuss nor what it is now. But lord bless you, sir, this ain’t nothin’. I ben shipmates with a cargo of creosoted sleepers73 out to Bonos Aires, an’ the stuff[11] was that strong our noses useter bleed when we come in the fo’c’sle. An’ all the grub was flavoured with strong tar46, so that when we did get some fresh grub we’d lost our taste. Didn’t get it back, either, for a jolly long time. Now guanner only makes your grub a bit high-flavoured, sort of gamey, like as I’m told the gentry74 fancies their vittles. It all depends upon taste, and sailors ain’t supposed to have any.”
Turning to his son, Mr. Brown said, “My boy, this is very different from what you expected, isn’t it? There isn’t much romantic adventure here, only dirt, discomfort75, and squalor. I’m afraid you’ll repent76 very sorely of your decision.”
“Oh no, Dad,” eagerly responded Frank, “I knew I should have to rough it, everybody has to that goes to sea. And I expect she’ll be very different when we get to sea and all the crew on board.”
“Ah, that she will,” interrupted the shipkeeper; “you wouldn’t know her when once the crew’s settled down to work and cleaned her up. It’s no place to judge a ship in dock, when there’s been nobody by her for a week or two except a shipkeeper. She gets all neglected like an empty house without a caretaker.”
Frank’s face shone with gratitude77 for the comfort, and even Mr. Brown looked less worried as he realised the truth of what the old man said. But he could not help feeling grieved to think how all the little niceties of life in which his son had been brought up would be out of the question here—the little den12 pointed78 out to him as the[12] “half-deck,” or boys’ apartment, being no larger than the boot-room at home, or about six feet square, and with absolutely no fittings of any kind except the four bunks79. However, he reasoned that Frank would look at these things in a different light altogether, and, stifling80 a sigh, he tipped the old man liberally and took his departure, saying no more to his son on the subject that day.
Next day they said good-bye to their friend Captain Burns, who promised to correspond with them, and left Lytham for home, Frank almost bursting with pride as he donned his new uniform and thought of the sensation he would make among his friends at Dewsbury. He tried hard not to be self-conscious, but it was a complete failure, for he knew how his sisters were gloating over him and saw how fondly yet sadly his mother’s eyes dwelt upon her handsome boy, looking so smart and manly81 in his new rig.
It was all like a glorious golden dream, and if ever a boy was happy he was. He did not even begrudge82 the delay, though it would be ten days before he was due to join his ship, because it would give him time to enjoy his triumph while pretending that he was only anxious to get away.
What a lovely time he had, to be sure, filling the hearts of all his boy friends with black envy of his luck, as they called it, being made much of by everybody, and seeing his father and mother grow prouder of him every day as if he was a young hero. Indeed it was a good job for him that the time was short, or he would have been utterly[13] spoiled, for every one did their best to turn his head.
But the time flew by, and at last the eventful morning arrived when he must go. He was to make the journey to Liverpool alone because business claimed his father, and his mother was not strong enough for such a trial. But that only made him feel prouder of his independence, and although he could not help feeling a lump in his throat as he stood at the carriage window and waved farewell to his parents and sisters on the platform, he speedily forgot them in boy fashion as he lolled back in his seat and assumed the air of a man while the train sped swiftly towards Liverpool.
Arriving at the Exchange Station, he skipped nimbly out upon the platform and gazed around him, somewhat bewildered at the noise and bustle83, until he caught sight of the burly figure of Captain Burns, who, according to his promise, was there to meet him. They were soon in a cab, and, with Frank’s chest and bag on top, threaded the crowded streets towards the dock. Neither of them said much, for although Frank had a thousand questions to ask, he was, like most boys, shy with his elders, and Captain Burns had put on the “Captain” for the occasion.
They were soon alongside the Sealark, which, even to Frank’s inexperienced eyes, looked very different from when he had last seen her. Her sails were bent84 and her rigging was all in place, while quite a gang of men were busy all about her putting the complications of her gear in[14] readiness for use at sea. They did not pause to admire her, for Captain Burns was not one of those garrulous85 old sailors who are such a nuisance to youngsters because they will keep talking and teaching as they call it, but getting swiftly on board and depositing Frank’s luggage in the house, they sought the mate at once.
He was not a prepossessing personage, being a rough, coarsely clad man of about forty, with a voice like a bull and a scowl86 as if he had just taken offence at something. But he was very civil to Captain Burns, who, introducing Frank, said, “Here, Mr. Jenkins, is my young friend Frank Brown, the latest candidate for acquaintance with Sou’spaining. Try and make a man of him; he’s keen enough, I know, and he’s come to the right quarter for experience.”
The mate nodded with a grim smile, saying, “You’re about right there, sir. I’ll put him through his facings all right. He’ll be a reg’lar tar-pot by the time we get back.”
“Now then, Frank,” said Captain Burns, “this is the chief mate of the ship. Next to the captain he’s your boss, and if you only do what he tells you as well as you can, and as quick as you can, and never try and skulk87, he’ll make a prime sailor of ye. And that’s what you want to be, you know. Now go and change those fine clothes for a suit of dungaree, that blue cotton stuff, you know. Put your uniform away, for you won’t want it for a long time, and make haste on deck again ready to begin work. You can’t begin too soon. Now good-bye and good luck to ye, and don’t forget to[15] show willing, it’s only skulkers that get into trouble at sea.”
And as Frank turned away towards the house, Captain Burns said to the mate, “I think he’s a bit of the right stuff, strong and healthy, and I believe he’ll turn out all right. Try and bring him on for my sake, and if you succeed with him I won’t forget you; you know I’ve got a bit of a pull at the office. So-long.”
And he was gone, having done his best for our hero as he considered, but having certainly arranged for Master Frank as severe a series of surprises as ever boy had. For the mate turned away muttering, “All right, Captain Burns, if I don’t put him through it won’t be my fault, and if he doesn’t earn his Board of Trade he can’t blame me. Silly young ass10, I suppose he’s worried his people to death to let him be a sailor, and now he thinks he is one. Well, we’ll see.”
点击收听单词发音
1 longing | |
n.(for)渴望 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 adventurous | |
adj.爱冒险的;惊心动魄的,惊险的,刺激的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 prospects | |
n.希望,前途(恒为复数) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 impoverished | |
adj.穷困的,无力的,用尽了的v.使(某人)贫穷( impoverish的过去式和过去分词 );使(某物)贫瘠或恶化 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 honourably | |
adv.可尊敬地,光荣地,体面地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 ashore | |
adv.在(向)岸上,上岸 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 humdrum | |
adj.单调的,乏味的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 vice | |
n.坏事;恶习;[pl.]台钳,老虎钳;adj.副的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 aged | |
adj.年老的,陈年的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 ass | |
n.驴;傻瓜,蠢笨的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 backbone | |
n.脊骨,脊柱,骨干;刚毅,骨气 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 den | |
n.兽穴;秘密地方;安静的小房间,私室 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 densely | |
ad.密集地;浓厚地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 undoubtedly | |
adv.确实地,无疑地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 devoid | |
adj.全无的,缺乏的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 picturesque | |
adj.美丽如画的,(语言)生动的,绘声绘色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 moss | |
n.苔,藓,地衣 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 restriction | |
n.限制,约束 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 contemplated | |
adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 stammering | |
v.结巴地说出( stammer的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 hirsute | |
adj.多毛的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 reeking | |
v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 );散发臭气;发出难闻的气味 (of sth);明显带有(令人不快或生疑的跡象) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 eccentricities | |
n.古怪行为( eccentricity的名词复数 );反常;怪癖 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 craving | |
n.渴望,热望 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 inhaling | |
v.吸入( inhale的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 primal | |
adj.原始的;最重要的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 eldest | |
adj.最年长的,最年老的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 gape | |
v.张口,打呵欠,目瞪口呆地凝视 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 clinched | |
v.(尤指两人)互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的过去式和过去分词 );解决(争端、交易),达成(协议) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 chuckling | |
轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 shipping | |
n.船运(发货,运输,乘船) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 enjoyment | |
n.乐趣;享有;享用 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 puff | |
n.一口(气);一阵(风);v.喷气,喘气 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 imminent | |
adj.即将发生的,临近的,逼近的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 seaman | |
n.海员,水手,水兵 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 vessel | |
n.船舶;容器,器皿;管,导管,血管 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 retired | |
adj.隐退的,退休的,退役的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 mariner | |
n.水手号不载人航天探测器,海员,航海者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 opportune | |
adj.合适的,适当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 gaily | |
adv.欢乐地,高兴地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 swell | |
vi.膨胀,肿胀;增长,增强 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 momentary | |
adj.片刻的,瞬息的;短暂的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 tar | |
n.柏油,焦油;vt.涂或浇柏油/焦油于 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 lull | |
v.使安静,使入睡,缓和,哄骗;n.暂停,间歇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 yarns | |
n.纱( yarn的名词复数 );纱线;奇闻漫谈;旅行轶事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 frustrate | |
v.使失望;使沮丧;使厌烦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 persevere | |
v.坚持,坚忍,不屈不挠 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 crave | |
vt.渴望得到,迫切需要,恳求,请求 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 judgment | |
n.审判;判断力,识别力,看法,意见 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 pang | |
n.剧痛,悲痛,苦闷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 undertaking | |
n.保证,许诺,事业 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 hardy | |
adj.勇敢的,果断的,吃苦的;耐寒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 professed | |
公开声称的,伪称的,已立誓信教的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 vacancies | |
n.空房间( vacancy的名词复数 );空虚;空白;空缺 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 fervent | |
adj.热的,热烈的,热情的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 thwarted | |
阻挠( thwart的过去式和过去分词 ); 使受挫折; 挫败; 横过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 remunerative | |
adj.有报酬的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 privately | |
adv.以私人的身份,悄悄地,私下地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 apprentices | |
学徒,徒弟( apprentice的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 well-being | |
n.安康,安乐,幸福 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 premium | |
n.加付款;赠品;adj.高级的;售价高的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 requisite | |
adj.需要的,必不可少的;n.必需品 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 outfit | |
n.(为特殊用途的)全套装备,全套服装 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 implicitly | |
adv. 含蓄地, 暗中地, 毫不保留地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 courteous | |
adj.彬彬有礼的,客气的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 cargo | |
n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 acting | |
n.演戏,行为,假装;adj.代理的,临时的,演出用的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 subdue | |
vt.制服,使顺从,征服;抑制,克制 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 stinks | |
v.散发出恶臭( stink的第三人称单数 );发臭味;名声臭;糟透 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 sleepers | |
n.卧铺(通常以复数形式出现);卧车( sleeper的名词复数 );轨枕;睡觉(呈某种状态)的人;小耳环 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 gentry | |
n.绅士阶级,上层阶级 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 discomfort | |
n.不舒服,不安,难过,困难,不方便 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 repent | |
v.悔悟,悔改,忏悔,后悔 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 gratitude | |
adj.感激,感谢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 bunks | |
n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位( bunk的名词复数 );空话,废话v.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位( bunk的第三人称单数 );空话,废话 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 stifling | |
a.令人窒息的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 manly | |
adj.有男子气概的;adv.男子般地,果断地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 begrudge | |
vt.吝啬,羡慕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 bustle | |
v.喧扰地忙乱,匆忙,奔忙;n.忙碌;喧闹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 garrulous | |
adj.唠叨的,多话的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 scowl | |
vi.(at)生气地皱眉,沉下脸,怒视;n.怒容 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 skulk | |
v.藏匿;潜行 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |