Acar and guide, as per order, were waiting for us, when we had breakfasted next morning, and we set forth1 for the Gap of Dunloe. Entering upon the main road, we seemed to be in a drying-ground of immense proportions, with its perpetual posts and endless clothes-lines, extending along the wayside for miles. But it proved to be a continuation of that faithless messenger, the Atlantic telegraph, on its way between Valencia and the rail. Passing the ruins of Aghadoe, church, castle, and tower, and shortly afterwards those of Killaloe, we cross the river Latme, over a charming old bridge, and get views of the great Tomies Mountain, and also of Macgillicuddy's Reeks2. Miles, our guide, a most intelligent and civil one, here told us the story, or rather one of the stories, concerning the latter mountains.
It seems that Mr. Macgillicuddy, a gentleman of extensive estates in this neighbourhood, went to visit some friends in England, and took with him an Irish servant, more prone3 to patriotism4 than truth. Whatever he saw among the Saxons was just nothing at all, at all, to what might be seen in Ireland. In short, he would have been a most appropriate attendant upon that Hibernian, who, being asked why he wept at sight of Greenwich Hospital, replied with sorrowful emotion, “Ah, sure, the buildings there remind me of mee dear father's stables!”
Now it befel that the English gentleman, possessing a large extent of rich meadow land, took especial delight in his hay-stacks, and his valet, sympathising with his master's vanity (as all good valets should), soon led the Irishman to look at the stack-yard, expecting to see him mightily5 astonished; but Paddy, having gazed around with the most sublime6 indifference7, coolly said, “It's a nice bit o' grass you've brought home here for present use; now let us have a peep at the ricks.”
“Ricks!” exclaimed the Englishman, “why these be they.”
“Well, then,” says Paddy, “I'll just tell ye: there's about enough hay in this stack-yard to make the bands for thatching my master's ricks. Happen” (this he added as though he wished to be liberal, and to pay his companion a compliment), “there might be a couple of yards or so to spare.”
You may imagine that when, in the following year, the English valet came with his master to return the visit at Killarney, he was not long before he requested his Irish friend to favour him with a view of the haystacks. To be sure he would, with all the pleasure in life, and sorry he was to be prevented by circumstances (over which, he might have added, he had every control) from making the inspection8 before evening. Accordingly, in the dusk and gloom of twilight9, he took the Englishman forth, and showed him, dim in the distance, this lofty mountain range. “There are our ricks,” said he.
In that belief the astonished stranger slept; and ever since that time men call these hills Macgillicuddy s Reeks!
Mr. Miles, in the next place, made our fingers to itch11, eyes to strain, and mouths to water, as he told of red deer among the mountains, and of woodcocks in their season, twenty couple to be bagged per diem. Thus conversing12, we drew near to the Gap, and to the cottage of Mrs. Moriarty, née Kearney, and grand-daughter of the beautiful Kate. But it is by no means a case of
“O matre pulchrâ Filia pulchrior!”
and we did not hesitate to decline the proffered13 draught14 of goat's milk and whiskey, although we implicitly15 believed Mrs. M.'s assertion, that, if we drank it, we should want nothing more throughout the remainder of the day.
Here, too, we overtook a car from Tralee, laden16 with pretty girls and a few young men (how we hated the latter for being in such high spirits, thought them vulgar snobs17 when they laughed, and coarsely familiar whenever they spoke18!)—not from any rapidity of pace on our part, but because the Tralee horses judiciously19 jibbed at anything like a rise in the road; and then off jumped the pretty girls, like doves from eave to earth, but being, in their peculiar20 grace and pleasant coo, immeasurably superior to pigeons.
At the entrance to the Gap, the scene was a most lively and attractive one. Here the cars are sent back, as the journey through the Pass must be made on ponies21 or afoot, and there was quite a merry little congress of visitors, guides, cars, and steeds. At length, the procession started, and a very picturesque22 one,—voici!
The Gap of Dunloe is a wild ravine, a defile23 through the mountains (on the right are the Reeks, and on the left the Tomies, Glena, and the Purple Mountain), which, rising on either side, dark, stern, and sterile24, with no great interval25 between, impart a solemn grandeur26 to the Pass. The river Loe flows beneath the huge blocks of stone which have fallen from the rocks above—heard, but not seen, except in the small lakes which occur at intervals27, and which, still and gloomy, add much to this impressive scene. One of these is called the Serpent's Lake, because St. Patrick, having caught the last snake in Ireland, put it into a big box (for reasons best known to himself), and flung it into this pool.
The most striking thing we saw as we went through the Gap were some snow-white goats on the lofty summit of the Purple Mountain; for the latter really is of a distinct purple tint28 (not from heather, but from the colour of the stone); and the contrast in the sunlight was very beautiful.
Frank insisted upon seeing an eagle, and continually pointed29 to the precipices30 above, believing that he descried31 the king of birds. Miles did condescend32 to say that one of the objects to which Frank drew our attention was not so very unlike at a distance, but that the resemblance was lost as you approached the reality—a piece of rock not less than twenty feet high. At last we actually beheld33 a very large bird soaring towards us with considerable dignity. Frank was delighted; and when Miles uttered the dissyllable “raven,” I certainly thought he would have hit him. There are eagles in this neighbourhood beyond a doubt (though Frank surveyed it with an incredulous and sarcastic34 air); but they are not very likely to be much at home when bugles35 are playing and cannons37 roaring from morn to dewy eve.
Emerging from the Gap, we were “to save a mile, and see the best of the scenery,” and to effect this, we were taken over a country, which is, I dare say, a pleasant one for Mrs. Moriarty's goats, but to bipeds in boots (and one must be neat, you know, with so many pretty girls about), is by no means of an agreeable character. To derive38 consolation39 from the calamities40 of others is humiliating, but natural; “il y a toujours quelque chose,” says the French cynic, “qui nous ne déplait point dans les malheurs d'autrui;” and I found, I am ashamed to say, considerable refreshment41 in surveying the distress42 of a portly old gentleman, who, impinging a good deal on the craggiest parts, “larded the lean earth as he walked along,”
“and panted hard,
As one who feels a nightmare in his bed,
When all the house is mute.”
I saw from the knolls44 and undulations, which diversified45 the surface of his enormous shoes, that his Pilgrims Progress had a good deal to do with Bunyan's, although his adjurations were not of that pious46 kind, which would have issued from the lips of the “preaching tinker,” and the deities47, to whom he referred in his affliction, were, principally, Zounds and Jingo.
But we soon found a truer solace48 in the view of Coom Dhuv, the Black Valley, and in listening to the roar of its mountain streams, which, rising and falling upon the breeze, sounded as though some monster train bore giants over the hills, at express speed, with Gog and Magog for Guard and Stoker!
Lo! the dark valley darkens, and its foaming49 waterfalls seem to whiten beneath the low black clouds; and we stay not to visit the Logan Stone, which a child may move, but nothing under an earthquake could dislodge; but hasten, by Lord Brandons Cottage, to the Upper Lake, where, a boat awaiting us, we embark50 for Roknaines Island.
Here, before a glowing fire, a fresh-caught salmon51, cut into steaks, was broiling52 on arbutus skivers; and the founder53 of the feast, an Irish gentleman, whom we brought from the shore in our boat, hospitably54 invited us to postpone55 our luncheon56 until his guests arrived. Hungry, and anxious to proceed, we declined his courteous57 offer; but we should not have done so, had we been aware that he was awaiting the delightful58 party from Tralee. Alas59, just as we had commenced our repast, and the boat so preciously freighted was descried in the distance, our pluvial fears were realised,
Grew dark as we were speaking.”
It was piteous to see those girls come ashore61, with the gentlemen's overcoats enveloping62 their fairy forms, and protecting their best bonnets63; and I never experienced so strong a desire in my life to be transformed into a gig-umbrella.
Suddenly the weather brightened, but not so the prospects64 of the pretty pic-nic. There was a brief colloquy65 between master and men, sounds of surprise and disappointment, not loud but deep, and then a general laughter, but dismally66 artificial; for the knives, and the plates, and the wine, and the bread, everything, in fact, except the salmon, just ready in its hot perfection, had been sent to the wrong Island!
Thither67, to our grim despair, went forth the Belles68 from Tralee; and, by the bones of St. Lumbago of Sciatica, I could have plunged69 into the flood, and followed in their lee, had I not been cognisant of a certain “alacrity in sinking,” which prevents the simultaneous removal of both my legs from the bottom. What would I not have given, to have changed places with the coxswain! I should have felt proud and happy as he who steered70 the immortal71 Seven at Henley, or as Edgar the Peaceable, when, keeping his court at Chester, and having a mind to go by water to the monastery72 of St. John Baptist, he was rowed down the Dee in a barge73 by eight Kings, himself sitting at the helm. 1
We mourned awhile, but the spirit of youth endures not to sorrow long. It bends low, but it will not break. It rises again in all its freshness after a glass of bitter beer, or just a mouthful of whiskey; and we soon looked our affliction in the face like men, and played the nightingale upon our empty bottles. I have studied somewhat sedulously74 to imitate, with a moistened cork75 upon glass, “de nightingirl, de lark76, de trush” (as the ever-to-be-retained Von Joel hath it), and the performance was so successful, that two finches perched, attentively77, within a yard of our heads, while the boatmen listened as admiringly as the Australian Diggers to the English lark; 2 and a newly-mar-ried couple, deliciously embowered above us, conversed78 as they sat on the green, and said, that “they had never quite believed the assertion that Ireland had no nightingales.” But Frank, unhappily, dispelled79 all these allusions80, by trying his unpractised hand, and by educing81 such irregular and feeble chirpings, as would have disgraced a superannuated82 sparrow, or a tom-tit, hopelessly wrestling with an aggravated83 form of diphtheria.
1 Rapin, vol. i. p. 106.
Mend, p. 359.
The trees, beneath whose melancholy86 boughs87 we had our meal and music, had been disgracefully hacked88! and more foul89 copies of “the Initials” were to be found here (with woodcuts, calf90, lettered) than in all Mr. Mudie's Library. If I had my will, I would teach those trenchant91 snobs, who, wherever they go, dishonour92 England, to sing their “Through the Wood, Laddie,” to a much more doleful tune93, made fast for a few hours in the stocks; or I would endeavour so far to revive in their breasts (if they have any breasts), that Druidical veneration94 for Baal, which once prevailed in Ireland, and which would induce them to cut themselves with their knives, and to worship the trees instead of whittling95 them. Or, in illustration of another Druidical tenet, metempsychosis, it would be gratifying to see their transmigration into woodpeckers, condemned96 for ever, like the bird in the fable97, to seek their food between bark and bole.
We would fain have lingered among these pleasant isles98, green with their abundant foliage99, and contrasting admirably with the stern hills, towering over them, and so encircling this Upper Lake, that you see no place of egress100, until you are close upon it. As for comparing it with the other lakes, or with Derwent-Water, as the fashion is,1 it ever appears to me the most ungrateful folly101, to depreciate102 or to extol103 one scene of beauty by commending or condemning104 another; and when a man begins with, “Ah, but you should see so-and-so,” or “I assure you, my dear fellow, this is dreadfully inferior to what-d'ye-call-it,” I always most heartily105 wish him at the locality which he affects to admire. What nasty, niggardly106, uncomfortable minds there are in this bilious107 world! How many men, who, forgetting that excellent round-hand copy, “Comparisons are odious,” are never happy but in detecting infelicities, and only strong when carping at weaknesses. Show them a pretty girl,—“she wants animation,” or “she wants repose,”—“she is overdressed,” or “her clothes, poor thing, must have been made in the village, and put on with a fork.”
1 Any one who takes delight in such comparisons may consult
Forbes's Ireland, vol. i., p. 229, or Mr. Curwen, whose
conclusion is, “Killarney for a landscape, Windermere for a
home.”
“You should see the youngest Miss Thingembob.” Tell them of a good day's covert-shooting you have had in my Lord's preserves,—out comes a note from their friend the Duke, who has beaten you by sixteen woodcocks. Trot108 out your new hunter, and “Oh, yes, he's a nice little horse, but will never carry you with those forelegs. You must come over and look at an animal I've just got down from Tattersall's, by Snarler109 out of a Humbug110 mare43, and well up to twenty stone, sir.”
It would perplex even these censorious gentlemen to find any fault with the Long Range (which has nothing to do with Sir William Armstrong's Guns,—except that the Cannon36 Rock at the entrance and the Gun Rock by Brickeen Island have some resemblance to artillery)—that beautiful river, which leads from the Upper to the Middle and Lower Lakes. To float between its banks of dark grey stone, from which the green trees droop111 their glossy112 foliage, though, like the Alpine113 tannen,
Of soil supports them;”
and the purple heath and the Royal Osmund, “half fountain and half tree,” lean over the brimming waters, to greet the lily and the pale lobelia, was a dream of happiness such as the Laureate dreamed, when—
The low and bloomed foliage, drove
The citron-shadows in the blue.”
You enter the Long Range at Colmans Eye, and shortly afterwards come to Colmans Leap. This Colman, once upon a time, was the lord of the Upper Lake, and, instead of following the example of his namesake, who, as a saint and peacemaker, assisted St. Patrick in converting Ireland to Christianity, spent most of his time in quarrelling with the O'Donoghue, and in provoking him to single combat. Being in a minority at one of these divisions, it appeared to him a prudential course to “hook it,” and, closely pursued by his adversary119, he took this celebrated120 jump over the river, which goes by the name of Colmans Leap. The guides show you his footprints on the rock, and they narrate121, moreover, that the O'Donoghue, being a little out of condition (dropsical, perhaps, from his long residence under water), came up to the stream a good deal blown, and would not have it at any price.
Now we pass by the mountain of the Eagles Nest, a glorious throne for the royal bird, and listen, at the Station of Audience, to the marvellous, manifold echoes of the bugler's music, as he wakes the soul and the scene with his “tender strokes of Art,”—now wild and spirit-stirring, as though kings hunted in some distant forest, and now dying, so sweetly, so softly, that we know not when they cease, but listen
“pensively,
When midnight bells cease ringing suddenly,
And the old year is dead.”
Then our boat, swiftly as an arrow, shoots the rapids of the Old Weir123 Bridge, and, having lingered awhile, in the pool beyond, to admire and sketch124, we leave the Middle Lake (reserved for our morrow's excursion) on the right, and pass by the Islands of Dinish and Brie keen to the entrance of the Lower Lake.
I have said nothing, and can say nothing worthily125, of the trees, which grow by the waters of Killarney,—oak, yew126, birch, hazel holly127, the wild apple, and the mountain-ash, with its berries of vivid red, growing confusedly one into the other, but en masse of faultless unity128. And among them, brightest and greenest of them all, the arbutus! Wherever you see it, it gleams amid the duller tints129, refreshing130 as a child's laugh on a rainy day, or (as Frank suggested) a view-halloo in the coverts131 of a vulpicide, or the ace10 of trumps132 in a bad hand at whist. Like Xerxes, we fell in love with the arbutus (Herodotus and Ælian say that it was “a plane tree of remarkable133 beauty,” but this assertion is self-contradictory, and, if it were not so, I am not, I hope, so bereft134 of the spirit of the nineteenth century, as to care for historical facts); and though we could not pour wine in honour of our idol135, as the Romans were wont136 to do, we drank our pale ale admiringly beneath its branches, and made a libation (principally of froth) to its roots.
And now by the lovely bay of Glena, we enter the Lower Lake. In front of Lord Kenmare's Cottage, to which visitors have access, 1 numerous boats are moored137; and the bright green sward about this pretty rustic138 retreat, contrasts remarkably139 with the under-robes of brilliant scarlet140, which are sweeping141 slowly over it, while, from the walks above, gay little bonnets flash among the trees, and the cock-pheasants and other ornithological142 specimens143, now worn in the hats of Englishwomen, seem to rejoice, reanimate, in their leafy homes.
1 The public are greatly indebted to Lord Kenmare and Mr.
Herbert for their indulgent liberality.
Here again, opposite the sublime mountains of Glena, so fairly dight from crown to foot in their summer garb144 of green, we awake and listen to the echoes, until “the big rain comes dancing to the” lake, and we row hastily homeward, changing places half way with the boatmen, and astonishing them considerably145 with an Oxford146 “spirt.”
It was pleasant, when we reached the Victoria, and had “cleaned ourselves” (as housemaids term a restoration of the toilette), to find letters from England, to hear that the good wheat was shorn and stacked, and the mowers “in among the bearded barley147.” There was still a short interval, when these letters were answered, to elapse before dinner, and this I occupied in perusing148 the account of “the Prince of Wales's visit to Killarney” in April, 1858.
Now Heaven preserve our dear young Prince from that excessive loyalty149, which loves to “chronicle small beer.” The historian told how “alighting from his vehicle, the Prince, who seems passionately150 fond of walking, proceeded on foot for a mile or two, with gun in hand, firing from time to time at bird, leaf, or fissure151 in the rock, in the exuberance152 of those animal spirits, which belong to his time of life,” but which must be somewhat perilous153 to those of his Royal Mother's liege subjects, who may be wandering in the immediate154 vicinity. Then we are informed, how that, “His Royal Highness and party drove on to the Victoria Hotel, with rather keen appetites;” how he visited “the tomb of O' Sullivan, and inspected it with much gravity of demeanour,” as though to ordinary minds there was something in sepulchres irresistibly155 comic; how “having drunk in all the glories of this wondrous156 scene,” (the view from Mangerton) “the Prince amused himself for some time in rolling large stones into the Devil's Punch Bowl” for the satisfaction, doubtless, of hearing them “go flop;” how when he went to Church on Sunday, “the Venerable Archdeacon read prayers, and seemed, as it were, reinvigorated by his presence,” which suggests the idea of a subsequent jig157 with the clerk in the vestry, or of an Irish chassez down the centre aisle158; and how, to make a final extract, Mr. Carroll, the tailor, presented His Royal Highness with “a whole suit of Irish tweed, admirably calculated for mountain excursions, and with the texture159 of which, as well as the fit,—which Mr. Carrolls eye hit off to a nicety”—does this mean that Mr. C. “took a shot” at the royal dimensions?—“the Prince was much pleased.”
I remember nothing of the table d'hôte that evening, except that a Cambridge man, who sat next to me, remarked of some miserable160 carving161 hard by, that “the gentleman seemed well up in Comic Sections;” and that a boy of seventeen, with a violent shooting-coat, and a few red bristles162 in the vicinity of his mouth, officiating as “Vice,” and looking it, mumbled163 three hurried words as grace after meat, in the presence of four English clergymen, and two Roman Catholic priests.
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1
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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reeks
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| n.恶臭( reek的名词复数 )v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的第三人称单数 )；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） | |
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prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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patriotism
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| n.爱国精神，爱国心，爱国主义 | |
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mightily
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| ad.强烈地；非常地 | |
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sublime
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| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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9
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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ace
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| n.A牌；发球得分；佼佼者；adj.杰出的 | |
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itch
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| n.痒，渴望，疥癣；vi.发痒，渴望 | |
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conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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implicitly
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| adv. 含蓄地, 暗中地, 毫不保留地 | |
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laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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snobs
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| （谄上傲下的）势利小人( snob的名词复数 )； 自高自大者，自命不凡者 | |
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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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judiciously
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| adv.明断地，明智而审慎地 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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ponies
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| 矮种马，小型马( pony的名词复数 )； ￡25 25 英镑 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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defile
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| v.弄污，弄脏；n.(山间)小道 | |
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sterile
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| adj.不毛的，不孕的，无菌的，枯燥的，贫瘠的 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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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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tint
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| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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precipices
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| n.悬崖，峭壁( precipice的名词复数 ) | |
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descried
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| adj.被注意到的，被发现的，被看到的 | |
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condescend
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| v.俯就，屈尊；堕落，丢丑 | |
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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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sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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bugles
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| 妙脆角，一种类似薯片但做成尖角或喇叭状的零食； 号角( bugle的名词复数 )； 喇叭； 匍匐筋骨草； （装饰女服用的）柱状玻璃（或塑料）小珠 | |
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cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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cannons
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| n.加农炮，大炮，火炮( cannon的名词复数 ) | |
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derive
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| v.取得；导出；引申；来自；源自；出自 | |
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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calamities
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| n.灾祸，灾难( calamity的名词复数 )；不幸之事 | |
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41
refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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42
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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43
mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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44
knolls
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| n.小圆丘，小土墩( knoll的名词复数 ) | |
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45
diversified
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| adj.多样化的，多种经营的v.使多样化，多样化( diversify的过去式和过去分词 )；进入新的商业领域 | |
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46
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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47
deities
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| n.神，女神( deity的名词复数 )；神祗；神灵；神明 | |
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48
solace
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| n.安慰；v.使快乐；vt.安慰(物)，缓和 | |
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49
foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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50
embark
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| vi.乘船，着手，从事，上飞机 | |
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51
salmon
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| n.鲑，大马哈鱼，橙红色的 | |
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52
broiling
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| adj.酷热的，炽热的，似烧的v.（用火）烤（焙、炙等）( broil的现在分词 )；使卷入争吵；使混乱；被烤（或炙） | |
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53
Founder
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| n.创始者，缔造者 | |
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54
hospitably
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| 亲切地，招待周到地，善于款待地 | |
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55
postpone
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| v.延期，推迟 | |
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56
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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57
courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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58
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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59
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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60
scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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61
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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62
enveloping
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的现在分词 ) | |
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63
bonnets
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| n.童帽( bonnet的名词复数 )；（烟囱等的）覆盖物；（苏格兰男子的）无边呢帽；（女子戴的）任何一种帽子 | |
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64
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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65
colloquy
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| n.谈话，自由讨论 | |
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66
dismally
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| adv.阴暗地，沉闷地 | |
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67
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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68
belles
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| n.美女( belle的名词复数 )；最美的美女 | |
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69
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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70
steered
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| v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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71
immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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72
monastery
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| n.修道院，僧院，寺院 | |
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73
barge
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| n.平底载货船，驳船 | |
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74
sedulously
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| ad.孜孜不倦地 | |
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75
cork
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| n.软木，软木塞 | |
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76
lark
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| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
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77
attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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78
conversed
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
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79
dispelled
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| v.驱散，赶跑( dispel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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80
allusions
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| 暗指，间接提到( allusion的名词复数 ) | |
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81
educing
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| v.引出( educe的现在分词 )；唤起或开发出（潜能）；推断（出）；从数据中演绎（出） | |
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82
superannuated
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| adj.老朽的，退休的；v.因落后于时代而废除，勒令退学 | |
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83
aggravated
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| 使恶化( aggravate的过去式和过去分词 )； 使更严重； 激怒； 使恼火 | |
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84
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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85
lute
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| n.琵琶，鲁特琴 | |
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86
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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87
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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88
hacked
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| 生气 | |
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89
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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90
calf
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| n.小牛，犊，幼仔，小牛皮 | |
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91
trenchant
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| adj.尖刻的，清晰的 | |
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92
dishonour
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| n./vt.拒付（支票、汇票、票据等）；vt.凌辱，使丢脸；n.不名誉，耻辱，不光彩 | |
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93
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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94
veneration
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| n.尊敬，崇拜 | |
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95
whittling
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| v.切，削（木头），使逐渐变小( whittle的现在分词 ) | |
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96
condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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97
fable
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| n.寓言；童话；神话 | |
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98
isles
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| 岛( isle的名词复数 ) | |
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99
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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100
egress
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| n.出去；出口 | |
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101
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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102
depreciate
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| v.降价，贬值，折旧 | |
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103
extol
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| v.赞美，颂扬 | |
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104
condemning
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| v.（通常因道义上的原因而）谴责( condemn的现在分词 )；宣判；宣布…不能使用；迫使…陷于不幸的境地 | |
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105
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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106
niggardly
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| adj.吝啬的，很少的 | |
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107
bilious
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| adj.胆汁过多的；易怒的 | |
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108
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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109
snarler
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| n.咆哮的人，狂吠的动物 | |
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110
humbug
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| n.花招，谎话，欺骗 | |
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111
droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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112
glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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113
alpine
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| adj.高山的；n.高山植物 | |
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114
nought
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| n.／adj.无，零 | |
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115
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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116
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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117
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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118
clove
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| n.丁香味 | |
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119
adversary
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| adj.敌手，对手 | |
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120
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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121
narrate
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| v.讲，叙述 | |
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122
casement
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| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
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123
weir
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| n.堰堤，拦河坝 | |
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124
sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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125
worthily
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| 重要地，可敬地，正当地 | |
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126
yew
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| n.紫杉属树木 | |
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127
holly
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| n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
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128
unity
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| n.团结，联合，统一；和睦，协调 | |
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129
tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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130
refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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131
coverts
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| n.隐蔽的，不公开的，秘密的( covert的名词复数 )；复羽 | |
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132
trumps
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| abbr.trumpets 喇叭；小号；喇叭形状的东西；喇叭筒v.（牌戏）出王牌赢（一牌或一墩）( trump的过去式 )；吹号公告，吹号庆祝；吹喇叭；捏造 | |
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133
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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134
bereft
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| adj.被剥夺的 | |
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135
idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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136
wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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137
moored
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| adj. 系泊的 动词moor的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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138
rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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139
remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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140
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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141
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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142
ornithological
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| adj.鸟类学的 | |
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143
specimens
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| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
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144
garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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145
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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146
Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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147
barley
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| n.大麦，大麦粒 | |
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148
perusing
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| v.读（某篇文字）( peruse的现在分词 )；（尤指）细阅；审阅；匆匆读或心不在焉地浏览（某篇文字） | |
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149
loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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150
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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151
fissure
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| n.裂缝；裂伤 | |
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152
exuberance
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| n.丰富；繁荣 | |
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153
perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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154
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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155
irresistibly
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| adv.无法抵抗地，不能自持地；极为诱惑人地 | |
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156
wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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157
jig
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| n.快步舞（曲）；v.上下晃动；用夹具辅助加工；蹦蹦跳跳 | |
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158
aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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159
texture
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| n.(织物)质地；(材料)构造；结构；肌理 | |
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160
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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161
carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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162
bristles
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| 短而硬的毛发，刷子毛( bristle的名词复数 ) | |
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163
mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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