I
THERE are but three or four old houses in Floral Heights, and in Floral Heights an old house is one which was built before 1880. The largest of these is the residence of William Washington Eathorne, president of the First State Bank.
The Eathorne Mansion1 preserves the memory of the “nice parts” of Zenith as they appeared from 1860 to 1900. It is a red brick immensity with gray sandstone lintels and a roof of slate2 in courses of red, green, and dyspeptic yellow. There are two anemic towers, one roofed with copper3, the other crowned with castiron ferns. The porch is like an open tomb; it is supported by squat5 granite6 pillars above which hang frozen cascades7 of brick. At one side of the house is a huge stained-glass window in the shape of a keyhole.
But the house has an effect not at all humorous. It embodies8 the heavy dignity of those Victorian financiers who ruled the generation between the pioneers and the brisk “sales-engineers” and created a somber9 oligarchy10 by gaining control of banks, mills, land, railroads, mines. Out of the dozen contradictory11 Zeniths which together make up the true and complete Zenith, none is so powerful and enduring yet none so unfamiliar12 to the citizens as the small, still, dry, polite, cruel Zenith of the William Eathornes; and for that tiny hierarchy13 the other Zeniths unwittingly labor14 and insignificantly15 die.
Most of the castles of the testy16 Victorian tetrarchs are gone now or decayed into boarding-houses, but the Eathorne Mansion remains17 virtuous18 and aloof19, reminiscent of London, Back Bay, Rittenhouse Square. Its marble steps are scrubbed daily, the brass20 plate is reverently22 polished, and the lace curtains are as prim23 and superior as William Washington Eathorne himself.
With a certain awe24 Babbitt and Chum Frink called on Eathorne for a meeting of the Sunday School Advisory25 Committee; with uneasy stillness they followed a uniformed maid through catacombs of reception-rooms to the library. It was as unmistakably the library of a solid old banker as Eathorne’s side-whiskers were the side-whiskers of a solid old banker. The books were most of them Standard Sets, with the correct and traditional touch of dim blue, dim gold, and glossy27 calf-skin. The fire was exactly correct and traditional; a small, quiet, steady fire, reflected by polished fire-irons. The oak desk was dark and old and altogether perfect; the chairs were gently supercilious28.
Eathorne’s inquiries29 as to the healths of Mrs. Babbitt, Miss Babbitt, and the Other Children were softly paternal30, but Babbitt had nothing with which to answer him. It was indecent to think of using the “How’s tricks, ole socks?” which gratified Vergil Gunch and Frink and Howard Littlefield — men who till now had seemed successful and urbane31. Babbitt and Frink sat politely, and politely did Eathorne observe, opening his thin lips just wide enough to dismiss the words, “Gentlemen, before we begin our conference — you may have felt the cold in coming here — so good of you to save an old man the journey — shall we perhaps have a whisky toddy?”
So well trained was Babbitt in all the conversation that befits a Good Fellow that he almost disgraced himself with “Rather than make trouble, and always providin’ there ain’t any enforcement officers hiding in the waste-basket —” The words died choking in his throat. He bowed in flustered32 obedience33. So did Chum Frink.
Eathorne rang for the maid.
The modern and luxurious34 Babbitt had never seen any one ring for a servant in a private house, except during meals. Himself, in hotels, had rung for bell-boys, but in the house you didn’t hurt Matilda’s feelings; you went out in the hall and shouted for her. Nor had he, since prohibition35, known any one to be casual about drinking. It was extraordinary merely to sip36 his toddy and not cry, “Oh, maaaaan, this hits me right where I live!” And always, with the ecstasy37 of youth meeting greatness, he marveled, “That little fuzzy-face there, why, he could make me or break me! If he told my banker to call my loans —! Gosh! That quarter-sized squirt! And looking like he hadn’t got a single bit of hustle38 to him! I wonder — Do we Boosters throw too many fits about pep?”
From this thought he shuddered39 away, and listened devoutly40 to Eathorne’s ideas on the advancement41 of the Sunday School, which were very clear and very bad.
Diffidently Babbitt outlined his own suggestions:
“I think if you analyze42 the needs of the school, in fact, going right at it as if it was a merchandizing problem, of course the one basic and fundamental need is growth. I presume we’re all agreed we won’t be satisfied till we build up the biggest darn Sunday School in the whole state, so the Chatham Road Presbyterian won’t have to take anything off anybody. Now about jazzing up the campaign for prospects43: they’ve already used contesting teams, and given prizes to the kids that bring in the most members. And they made a mistake there: the prizes were a lot of folderols and doodads like poetry books and illustrated45 Testaments46, instead of something a real live kid would want to work for, like real cash or a speedometer for his motor cycle. Course I suppose it’s all fine and dandy to illustrate44 the lessons with these decorated book-marks and blackboard drawings and so on, but when it comes down to real he-hustling, getting out and drumming up customers — or members, I mean, why, you got to make it worth a fellow’s while.
“Now, I want to propose two stunts47: First, divide the Sunday School into four armies, depending on age. Everybody gets a military rank in his own army according to how many members he brings in, and the duffers that lie down on us and don’t bring in any, they remain privates. The pastor48 and superintendent49 rank as generals. And everybody has got to give salutes50 and all the rest of that junk, just like a regular army, to make ’em feel it’s worth while to get rank.
“Then, second: Course the school has its advertising51 committee, but, Lord, nobody ever really works good — nobody works well just for the love of it. The thing to do is to be practical and up-to-date, and hire a real paid press-agent for the Sunday School-some newspaper fellow who can give part of his time.”
“Sure, you bet!” said Chum Frink.
“Think of the nice juicy bits he could get in!” Babbitt crowed. “Not only the big, salient, vital facts, about how fast the Sunday School — and the collection — is growing, but a lot of humorous gossip and kidding: about how some blowhard52 fell down on his pledge to get new members, or the good time the Sacred Trinity class of girls had at their wieniewurst party. And on the side, if he had time, the press-agent might even boost the lessons themselves — do a little advertising for all the Sunday Schools in town, in fact. No use being hoggish53 toward the rest of ’em, providing we can keep the bulge54 on ’em in membership. Frinstance, he might get the papers to — Course I haven’t got a literary training like Frink here, and I’m just guessing how the pieces ought to be written, but take frinstance, suppose the week’s lesson is about Jacob; well, the press-agent might get in something that would have a fine moral, and yet with a trick headline that’d get folks to read it — say like: ‘Jake Fools the Old Man; Makes Getaway with Girl and Bankroll.’ See how I mean? That’d get their interest! Now, course, Mr. Eathorne, you’re conservative, and maybe you feel these stunts would be undignified, but honestly, I believe they’d bring home the bacon.”
Eathorne folded his hands on his comfortable little belly55 and purred like an aged56 pussy57:
“May I say, first, that I have been very much pleased by your analysis of the situation, Mr. Babbitt. As you surmise58, it’s necessary in My Position to be conservative, and perhaps endeavor to maintain a certain standard of dignity. Yet I think you’ll find me somewhat progressive. In our bank, for example, I hope I may say that we have as modern a method of publicity59 and advertising as any in the city. Yes, I fancy you’ll find us oldsters quite cognizant of the shifting spiritual values of the age. Yes, oh yes. And so, in fact, it pleases me to be able to say that though personally I might prefer the sterner Presbyterianism of an earlier era —”
Babbitt finally gathered that Eathorne was willing.
Chum Frink suggested as part-time press-agent one Kenneth Escott, reporter on the Advocate–Times.
They parted on a high plane of amity60 and Christian61 helpfulness.
Babbitt did not drive home, but toward the center of the city. He wished to be by himself and exult62 over the beauty of intimacy63 with William Washington Eathorne.
II
A snow-blanched evening of ringing pavements and eager lights.
Great golden lights of trolley-cars sliding along the packed snow of the roadway. Demure64 lights of little houses. The belching65 glare of a distant foundry, wiping out the sharp-edged stars. Lights of neighborhood drug stores where friends gossiped, well pleased, after the day’s work.
The green light of a police-station, and greener radiance on the snow; the drama of a patrol-wagon — gong beating like a terrified heart, headlights scorching66 the crystal-sparkling street, driver not a chauffeur67 but a policeman proud in uniform, another policeman perilously68 dangling69 on the step at the back, and a glimpse of the prisoner. A murderer, a burglar, a coiner cleverly trapped?
An enormous graystone church with a rigid70 spire71; dim light in the Parlors72, and cheerful droning of choir-practise. The quivering green mercury-vapor light of a photo-engraver’s loft73. Then the storming lights of down-town; parked cars with ruby74 tail-lights; white arched entrances to movie theaters, like frosty mouths of winter caves; electric signs — serpents and little dancing men of fire; pink-shaded globes and scarlet75 jazz music in a cheap up-stairs dance-hall; lights of Chinese restaurants, lanterns painted with cherry-blossoms and with pagodas76, hung against lattices of lustrous77 gold and black. Small dirty lamps in small stinking78 lunchrooms. The smart shopping-district, with rich and quiet light on crystal pendants and furs and suave79 surfaces of polished wood in velvet80-hung reticent81 windows. High above the street, an unexpected square hanging in the darkness, the window of an office where some one was working late, for a reason unknown and stimulating82. A man meshed83 in bankruptcy84, an ambitious boy, an oil-man suddenly become rich?
The air was shrewd, the snow was deep in uncleared alleys85, and beyond the city, Babbitt knew, were hillsides of snow-drift among wintry oaks, and the curving ice-enchanted river.
He loved his city with passionate86 wonder. He lost the accumulated weariness of business — worry and expansive oratory87; he felt young and potential. He was ambitious. It was not enough to be a Vergil Gunch, an Orville Jones. No. “They’re bully88 fellows, simply lovely, but they haven’t got any finesse89.” No. He was going to be an Eathorne; delicately rigorous, coldly powerful.
“That’s the stuff. The wallop in the velvet mitt26. Not let anybody get fresh with you. Been getting careless about my diction. Slang. Colloquial90. Cut it out. I was first-rate at rhetoric91 in college. Themes on — Anyway, not bad. Had too much of this hooptedoodle and good-fellow stuff. I— Why couldn’t I organize a bank of my own some day? And Ted4 succeed me!”
He drove happily home, and to Mrs. Babbitt he was a William Washington Eathorne, but she did not notice it.
III
Young Kenneth Escott, reporter on the Advocate–Times was appointed press-agent of the Chatham Road Presbyterian Sunday School. He gave six hours a week to it. At least he was paid for giving six hours a week. He had friends on the Press and the Gazette and he was not (officially) known as a press-agent. He procured92 a trickle93 of insinuating94 items about neighborliness and the Bible, about class-suppers, jolly but educational, and the value of the Prayer-life in attaining95 financial success.
The Sunday School adopted Babbitt’s system of military ranks. Quickened by this spiritual refreshment96, it had a boom. It did not become the largest school in Zenith — the Central Methodist Church kept ahead of it by methods which Dr. Drew scored as “unfair, undignified, un-American, ungentlemanly, and unchristian”— but it climbed from fourth place to second, and there was rejoicing in heaven, or at least in that portion of heaven included in the parsonage of Dr. Drew, while Babbitt had much praise and good repute.
He had received the rank of colonel on the general staff of the school. He was plumply pleased by salutes on the street from unknown small boys; his ears were tickled97 to ruddy ecstasy by hearing himself called “Colonel;” and if he did not attend Sunday School merely to be thus exalted98, certainly he thought about it all the way there.
He was particularly pleasant to the press-agent, Kenneth Escott; he took him to lunch at the Athletic99 Club and had him at the house for dinner.
Like many of the cocksure young men who forage100 about cities in apparent contentment and who express their cynicism in supercilious slang, Escott was shy and lonely. His shrewd starveling face broadened with joy at dinner, and he blurted101, “Gee whillikins, Mrs. Babbitt, if you knew how good it is to have home eats again!”
Escott and Verona liked each other. All evening they “talked about ideas.” They discovered that they were Radicals102. True, they were sensible about it. They agreed that all communists were criminals; that this vers libre was tommy-rot; and that while there ought to be universal disarmament, of course Great Britain and the United States must, on behalf of oppressed small nations, keep a navy equal to the tonnage of all the rest of the world. But they were so revolutionary that they predicted (to Babbitt’s irritation) that there would some day be a Third Party which would give trouble to the Republicans and Democrats103.
Escott shook hands with Babbitt three times, at parting.
Babbitt mentioned his extreme fondness for Eathorne.
Within a week three newspapers presented accounts of Babbitt’s sterling104 labors105 for religion, and all of them tactfully mentioned William Washington Eathorne as his collaborator106.
Nothing had brought Babbitt quite so much credit at the Elks107, the Athletic Club, and the Boosters’. His friends had always congratulated him on his oratory, but in their praise was doubt, for even in speeches advertising the city there was something highbrow and degenerate108, like writing poetry. But now Orville Jones shouted across the Athletic dining-room, “Here’s the new director of the First State Bank!” Grover Butterbaugh, the eminent109 wholesaler110 of plumbers’ supplies, chuckled111, “Wonder you mix with common folks, after holding Eathorne’s hand!” And Emil Wengert, the jeweler, was at last willing to discuss buying a house in Dorchester.
IV
When the Sunday School campaign was finished, Babbitt suggested to Kenneth Escott, “Say, how about doing a little boosting for Doc Drew personally?”
Escott grinned. “You trust the doc to do a little boosting for himself, Mr. Babbitt! There’s hardly a week goes by without his ringing up the paper to say if we’ll chase a reporter up to his Study, he’ll let us in on the story about the swell112 sermon he’s going to preach on the wickedness of short skirts, or the authorship of the Pentateuch. Don’t you worry about him. There’s just one better publicity-grabber in town, and that’s this Dora Gibson Tucker that runs the Child Welfare and the Americanization League, and the only reason she’s got Drew beaten is because she has got SOME brains!”
“Well, now Kenneth, I don’t think you ought to talk that way about the doctor. A preacher has to watch his interests, hasn’t he? You remember that in the Bible about — about being diligent113 in the Lord’s business, or something?”
“All right, I’ll get something in if you want me to, Mr. Babbitt, but I’ll have to wait till the managing editor is out of town, and then blackjack the city editor.”
Thus it came to pass that in the Sunday Advocate–Times, under a picture of Dr. Drew at his earnestest, with eyes alert, jaw114 as granite, and rustic115 lock flamboyant116, appeared an inscription117 — a wood-pulp tablet conferring twenty-four hours’ immortality118:
The Rev21. Dr. John Jennison Drew, M.A., pastor of the beautiful Chatham Road Presbyterian Church in lovely Floral Heights, is a wizard soul-winner. He holds the local record for conversions119. During his shepherdhood an average of almost a hundred sin-weary persons per year have declared their resolve to lead a new life and have found a harbor of refuge and peace.
Everything zips at the Chatham Road Church. The subsidiary organizations are keyed to the top-notch of efficiency. Dr. Drew is especially keen on good congregational singing. Bright cheerful hymns120 are used at every meeting, and the special Sing Services attract lovers of music and professionals from all parts of the city.
On the popular lecture platform as well as in the pulpit Dr. Drew is a renowned121 word-painter, and during the course of the year he receives literally122 scores of invitations to speak at varied123 functions both here and elsewhere.
V
Babbitt let Dr. Drew know that he was responsible for this tribute. Dr. Drew called him “brother,” and shook his hand a great many times.
During the meetings of the Advisory Committee, Babbitt had hinted that he would be charmed to invite Eathorne to dinner, but Eathorne had murmured, “So nice of you — old man, now — almost never go out.” Surely Eathorne would not refuse his own pastor. Babbitt said boyishly to Drew:
“Say, doctor, now we’ve put this thing over, strikes me it’s up to the dominie to blow the three of us to a dinner!”
“Bully! You bet! Delighted!” cried Dr. Drew, in his manliest124 way. (Some one had once told him that he talked like the late President Roosevelt.)
“And, uh, say, doctor, be sure and get Mr. Eathorne to come. Insist on it. It’s, uh — I think he sticks around home too much for his own health.”
Eathorne came.
It was a friendly dinner. Babbitt spoke125 gracefully126 of the stabilizing127 and educational value of bankers to the community. They were, he said, the pastors128 of the fold of commerce. For the first time Eathorne departed from the topic of Sunday Schools, and asked Babbitt about the progress of his business. Babbitt answered modestly, almost filially.
A few months later, when he had a chance to take part in the Street Traction129 Company’s terminal deal, Babbitt did not care to go to his own bank for a loan. It was rather a quiet sort of deal and, if it had come out, the Public might not have understood. He went to his friend Mr. Eathorne; he was welcomed, and received the loan as a private venture; and they both profited in their pleasant new association.
After that, Babbitt went to church regularly, except on spring Sunday mornings which were obviously meant for motoring. He announced to Ted, “I tell you, boy, there’s no stronger bulwark130 of sound conservatism than the evangelical church, and no better place to make friends who’ll help you to gain your rightful place in the community than in your own church-home!”
1 mansion | |
n.大厦,大楼;宅第 | |
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2 slate | |
n.板岩,石板,石片,石板色,候选人名单;adj.暗蓝灰色的,含板岩的;vt.用石板覆盖,痛打,提名,预订 | |
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3 copper | |
n.铜;铜币;铜器;adj.铜(制)的;(紫)铜色的 | |
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4 ted | |
vt.翻晒,撒,撒开 | |
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5 squat | |
v.蹲坐,蹲下;n.蹲下;adj.矮胖的,粗矮的 | |
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6 granite | |
adj.花岗岩,花岗石 | |
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7 cascades | |
倾泻( cascade的名词复数 ); 小瀑布(尤指一连串瀑布中的一支); 瀑布状物; 倾泻(或涌出)的东西 | |
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8 embodies | |
v.表现( embody的第三人称单数 );象征;包括;包含 | |
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9 somber | |
adj.昏暗的,阴天的,阴森的,忧郁的 | |
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10 oligarchy | |
n.寡头政治 | |
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11 contradictory | |
adj.反驳的,反对的,抗辩的;n.正反对,矛盾对立 | |
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12 unfamiliar | |
adj.陌生的,不熟悉的 | |
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13 hierarchy | |
n.等级制度;统治集团,领导层 | |
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14 labor | |
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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15 insignificantly | |
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16 testy | |
adj.易怒的;暴躁的 | |
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17 remains | |
n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
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18 virtuous | |
adj.有品德的,善良的,贞洁的,有效力的 | |
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19 aloof | |
adj.远离的;冷淡的,漠不关心的 | |
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20 brass | |
n.黄铜;黄铜器,铜管乐器 | |
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21 rev | |
v.发动机旋转,加快速度 | |
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22 reverently | |
adv.虔诚地 | |
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23 prim | |
adj.拘泥形式的,一本正经的;n.循规蹈矩,整洁;adv.循规蹈矩地,整洁地 | |
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24 awe | |
n.敬畏,惊惧;vt.使敬畏,使惊惧 | |
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25 advisory | |
adj.劝告的,忠告的,顾问的,提供咨询 | |
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26 mitt | |
n.棒球手套,拳击手套,无指手套;vt.铐住,握手 | |
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27 glossy | |
adj.平滑的;有光泽的 | |
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28 supercilious | |
adj.目中无人的,高傲的;adv.高傲地;n.高傲 | |
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29 inquiries | |
n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 );疑问;探究;打听 | |
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30 paternal | |
adj.父亲的,像父亲的,父系的,父方的 | |
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31 urbane | |
adj.温文尔雅的,懂礼的 | |
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32 flustered | |
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33 obedience | |
n.服从,顺从 | |
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34 luxurious | |
adj.精美而昂贵的;豪华的 | |
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35 prohibition | |
n.禁止;禁令,禁律 | |
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36 sip | |
v.小口地喝,抿,呷;n.一小口的量 | |
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37 ecstasy | |
n.狂喜,心醉神怡,入迷 | |
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38 hustle | |
v.推搡;竭力兜售或获取;催促;n.奔忙(碌) | |
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39 shuddered | |
v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 );发抖;(机器、车辆等)突然震动;颤动 | |
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40 devoutly | |
adv.虔诚地,虔敬地,衷心地 | |
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41 advancement | |
n.前进,促进,提升 | |
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42 analyze | |
vt.分析,解析 (=analyse) | |
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43 prospects | |
n.希望,前途(恒为复数) | |
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44 illustrate | |
v.举例说明,阐明;图解,加插图 | |
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45 illustrated | |
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46 testaments | |
n.遗嘱( testament的名词复数 );实际的证明 | |
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47 stunts | |
n.惊人的表演( stunt的名词复数 );(广告中)引人注目的花招;愚蠢行为;危险举动v.阻碍…发育[生长],抑制,妨碍( stunt的第三人称单数 ) | |
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48 pastor | |
n.牧师,牧人 | |
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49 superintendent | |
n.监督人,主管,总监;(英国)警务长 | |
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50 salutes | |
n.致敬,欢迎,敬礼( salute的名词复数 )v.欢迎,致敬( salute的第三人称单数 );赞扬,赞颂 | |
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51 advertising | |
n.广告业;广告活动 a.广告的;广告业务的 | |
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52 blowhard | |
n.自吹自擂者 | |
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53 hoggish | |
adj.贪婪的 | |
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54 bulge | |
n.突出,膨胀,激增;vt.突出,膨胀 | |
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55 belly | |
n.肚子,腹部;(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分,膛 | |
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56 aged | |
adj.年老的,陈年的 | |
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57 pussy | |
n.(儿语)小猫,猫咪 | |
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58 surmise | |
v./n.猜想,推测 | |
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59 publicity | |
n.众所周知,闻名;宣传,广告 | |
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60 amity | |
n.友好关系 | |
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61 Christian | |
adj.基督教徒的;n.基督教徒 | |
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62 exult | |
v.狂喜,欢腾;欢欣鼓舞 | |
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63 intimacy | |
n.熟悉,亲密,密切关系,亲昵的言行 | |
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64 demure | |
adj.严肃的;端庄的 | |
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65 belching | |
n. 喷出,打嗝 动词belch的现在分词形式 | |
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66 scorching | |
adj. 灼热的 | |
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67 chauffeur | |
n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机;v.为…开车 | |
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68 perilously | |
adv.充满危险地,危机四伏地 | |
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69 dangling | |
悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 ); 摆动不定; 用某事物诱惑…; 吊胃口 | |
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70 rigid | |
adj.严格的,死板的;刚硬的,僵硬的 | |
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71 spire | |
n.(教堂)尖顶,尖塔,高点 | |
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72 parlors | |
客厅( parlor的名词复数 ); 起居室; (旅馆中的)休息室; (通常用来构成合成词)店 | |
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73 loft | |
n.阁楼,顶楼 | |
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74 ruby | |
n.红宝石,红宝石色 | |
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75 scarlet | |
n.深红色,绯红色,红衣;adj.绯红色的 | |
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76 pagodas | |
塔,宝塔( pagoda的名词复数 ) | |
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77 lustrous | |
adj.有光泽的;光辉的 | |
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78 stinking | |
adj.臭的,烂醉的,讨厌的v.散发出恶臭( stink的现在分词 );发臭味;名声臭;糟透 | |
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79 suave | |
adj.温和的;柔和的;文雅的 | |
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80 velvet | |
n.丝绒,天鹅绒;adj.丝绒制的,柔软的 | |
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81 reticent | |
adj.沉默寡言的;言不如意的 | |
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82 stimulating | |
adj.有启发性的,能激发人思考的 | |
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83 meshed | |
有孔的,有孔眼的,啮合的 | |
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84 bankruptcy | |
n.破产;无偿付能力 | |
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85 alleys | |
胡同,小巷( alley的名词复数 ); 小径 | |
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86 passionate | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,激昂的,易动情的,易怒的,性情暴躁的 | |
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87 oratory | |
n.演讲术;词藻华丽的言辞 | |
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88 bully | |
n.恃强欺弱者,小流氓;vt.威胁,欺侮 | |
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89 finesse | |
n.精密技巧,灵巧,手腕 | |
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90 colloquial | |
adj.口语的,会话的 | |
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91 rhetoric | |
n.修辞学,浮夸之言语 | |
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92 procured | |
v.(努力)取得, (设法)获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 );拉皮条 | |
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93 trickle | |
vi.淌,滴,流出,慢慢移动,逐渐消散 | |
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94 insinuating | |
adj.曲意巴结的,暗示的v.暗示( insinuate的现在分词 );巧妙或迂回地潜入;(使)缓慢进入;慢慢伸入 | |
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95 attaining | |
(通常经过努力)实现( attain的现在分词 ); 达到; 获得; 达到(某年龄、水平、状况) | |
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96 refreshment | |
n.恢复,精神爽快,提神之事物;(复数)refreshments:点心,茶点 | |
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97 tickled | |
(使)发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 ); (使)愉快,逗乐 | |
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98 exalted | |
adj.(地位等)高的,崇高的;尊贵的,高尚的 | |
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99 athletic | |
adj.擅长运动的,强健的;活跃的,体格健壮的 | |
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100 forage | |
n.(牛马的)饲料,粮草;v.搜寻,翻寻 | |
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101 blurted | |
v.突然说出,脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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102 radicals | |
n.激进分子( radical的名词复数 );根基;基本原理;[数学]根数 | |
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103 democrats | |
n.民主主义者,民主人士( democrat的名词复数 ) | |
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104 sterling | |
adj.英币的(纯粹的,货真价实的);n.英国货币(英镑) | |
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105 labors | |
v.努力争取(for)( labor的第三人称单数 );苦干;详细分析;(指引擎)缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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106 collaborator | |
n.合作者,协作者 | |
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107 elks | |
n.麋鹿( elk的名词复数 ) | |
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108 degenerate | |
v.退步,堕落;adj.退步的,堕落的;n.堕落者 | |
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109 eminent | |
adj.显赫的,杰出的,有名的,优良的 | |
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110 wholesaler | |
n.批发商 | |
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111 chuckled | |
轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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112 swell | |
vi.膨胀,肿胀;增长,增强 | |
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113 diligent | |
adj.勤勉的,勤奋的 | |
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114 jaw | |
n.颚,颌,说教,流言蜚语;v.喋喋不休,教训 | |
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115 rustic | |
adj.乡村的,有乡村特色的;n.乡下人,乡巴佬 | |
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116 flamboyant | |
adj.火焰般的,华丽的,炫耀的 | |
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117 inscription | |
n.(尤指石块上的)刻印文字,铭文,碑文 | |
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118 immortality | |
n.不死,不朽 | |
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119 conversions | |
变换( conversion的名词复数 ); (宗教、信仰等)彻底改变; (尤指为居住而)改建的房屋; 橄榄球(触地得分后再把球射中球门的)附加得分 | |
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120 hymns | |
n.赞美诗,圣歌,颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
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121 renowned | |
adj.著名的,有名望的,声誉鹊起的 | |
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122 literally | |
adv.照字面意义,逐字地;确实 | |
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123 varied | |
adj.多样的,多变化的 | |
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124 manliest | |
manly(有男子气概的)的最高级形式 | |
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125 spoke | |
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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126 gracefully | |
ad.大大方方地;优美地 | |
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127 stabilizing | |
n.稳定化处理[退火]v.(使)稳定, (使)稳固( stabilize的现在分词 ) | |
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128 pastors | |
n.(基督教的)牧师( pastor的名词复数 ) | |
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129 traction | |
n.牵引;附着摩擦力 | |
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130 bulwark | |
n.堡垒,保障,防御 | |
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