How I struck Chicago, and how Chicago struck me. Of Religion, Politics, and Pig-sticking, and the Incarnation of the City among Shambles1
I know thy cunning and thy greed,
Thy hard, high lust2 and wilful3 deed,
And all thy glory loves to tell
I HAVE struck a city,— a real city,— and they call it Chicago. The other places do not count. San Francisco was a pleasure-resort as well as a city, and Salt Lake was a phenomenon. This place is the first American city I have encountered. It holds rather more than a million people with bodies, and stands on the same sort of soil as Calcutta. Having seen it, I urgently desire never to see it again. It is inhabited by savages6. Its water is the water of the Hughli, and its air is dirt. Also it says that it is the ‘boss’ town of America.
I do not believe that it has anything to do with this country. They told me to go to the Palmer House, which is a gilded7 and mirrored rabbit-warren, and there I found a huge hall of tessellated marble, crammed8 with people talking about money and spitting about everywhere. Other barbarians9 charged in and out of this inferno10 with letters and telegrams in their hands, and yet others shouted at each other. A man who had drunk quite as much as was good for him told me that this was ‘the finest hotel in the finest city on God Almighty’s earth.’ By the way, when an American wishes to indicate the next county or State he says, ‘God A’mighty’s earth.’ This prevents discussion and flatters his vanity.
Then I went out into the streets, which are long and flat and without end. And verily it is not a good thing to live in the East for any length of time. Your ideas grow to clash with those held by every right-thinking white man. I looked down interminable vistas11 flanked with nine, ten, and fifteen storied houses, and crowded with men and women, and the show impressed me with a great horror. Except in London — and I have forgotten what London is like — I had never seen so many white people together, and never such a collection of miserables. There was no colour in the street and no beauty — only a maze12 of wire-ropes overhead and dirty stone flagging underfoot. A cab-driver volunteered to show me the glory of the town for so much an hour, and with him I wandered far. He conceived that all this turmoil13 and squash was a thing to be reverently14 admired; that it was good to huddle15 men together in fifteen layers, one atop of the other, and to dig holes in the ground for offices. He said that Chicago was a live town, and that all the creatures hurrying by me were engaged in business. That is to say, they were trying to make some money, that they might not die through lack of food to put into their bellies16. He took me to canals, black as ink, and filled with untold17 abominations, and bade me watch the stream of traffic across the bridges. He then took me into a saloon, and, while I drank, made me note that the floor was covered with coins sunk into cement. A Hottentot would not have been guilty of this sort of barbarism. The coins made an effect pretty enough, but the man who put them there had no thought to beauty, and therefore he was a savage5. Then my cab-driver showed me business-blocks, gay with signs and studded with fantastic and absurd advertisements of goods, and looking down the long street so adorned18 it was as though each vender19 stood at his door howling: ‘For the sake of money, employ or buy of me and me only!’ Have you ever seen a crowd at our famine-relief distributions? You know then how men leap into the air, stretching out their arms above the crowd in the hope of being seen; while the women dolorously20 slap the stomachs of their children and whimper. I had sooner watch famine-relief than the white man engaged in what he calls legitimate21 competition. The one I understand. The other makes me ill. And the cabman said that these things were the proof of progress; and by that I knew he had been reading his newspaper, as every intelligent American should. The papers tell their readers in language fitted to their comprehension that the snarling22 together of telegraph wires, the heaving up of houses, and the making of money is progress.
I spent ten hours in that huge wilderness23, wandering through scores of miles of these terrible streets, and jostling some few hundred thousand of these terrible people who talked money through their noses. The cabman left me: but after a while I picked up another man who was full of figures, and into my ears he poured them as occasion required or the big blank factories suggested. Here they turned out so many hundred thousand dollars’ worth of such and such an article; there so many million other things; this house was worth so many million dollars; that one so many million more or less. It was like listening to a child babbling24 of its hoard25 of shells. It was like watching a fool playing with buttons. But I was expected to do more than listen or watch. He demanded that I should admire; and the utmost that I could say was: ‘Are these things so? Then I am very sorry for you.’ That made him angry, and he said that insular26 envy made me unresponsive. So you see I could not make him understand.
About four and a half hours after Adam was turned out of the garden of Eden he felt hungry, and so, bidding Eve take care that her head was not broken by the descending27 fruit, shinned up a cocoanut palm. That hurt his legs, cut his breast, and made him breathe heavily, and Eve was tormented28 with fear lest her lord should miss his footing and so bring the tragedy of this world to an end ere the curtain had fairly risen. Had I met Adam then, I should have been sorry for him. To-day I find eleven hundred thousand of his sons just as far advanced as their father in the art of getting food, and immeasurably inferior to him in that they think that their palmtrees lead straight to the skies. Consequently I am sorry in rather more than a million different ways. In our East bread comes naturally even to the poorest by a little scratching or the gift of a friend not quite so poor. In less favoured countries one is apt to forget. Then I went to bed. And that was on a Saturday night.
Sunday brought me the queerest experience of all — a revelation of barbarism complete. I found a place that was officially described as a church. It was a circus’ really, but that the worshippers did not know. There were flowers all about the building, which was fitted up with plush and stained oak and much luxury, including twisted brass29 candlesticks of severest Gothic design. To these things, and a congregation of savages, entered suddenly a wonderful man completely in the confidence of their God, whom he treated colloquially30 and exploited very much as a newspaper reporter would exploit a foreign potentate31. But, unlike the newspaper reporter, he never allowed his listeners to forget that he and not He was the centre of attraction. With a voice of, silver and with, imagery borrowed from the auction-room, he built up for his hearers a heaven on the lines of the Palmer House (but with all the gilding32 real gold and all the plate-glass diamond) and set in the centre of it a loudvoiced, argumentative, and very shrewd creation that he called God. One sentence at this point caught my delighted ear. It was apropos33 of some question of the Judgment34 Day and ran: ‘No! I tell you God doesn’t do business that way.’ He was giving them a deity35 whom they could comprehend, in a gold and jewel heaven in which they could take a natural interest. He interlarded his performance with the slang of the streets, the counter, and the Exchange, and he said that religion ought to enter into daily life. Consequently I presume he introduced it as daily life — his own and the life of his friends.
Then I escaped before the blessing36, desiring no benediction37 at such hands. But the persons who listened seemed to enjoy themselves, and I understood that I had met with a popular preacher. Later on when I had perused38 the sermons of a gentleman called Talmage and some others, I perceived that I had been listening to a very mild specimen39. Yet that man, with his brutal40 gold and silver idols41, his hands-in-pocket, cigar-in-mouth, and hat-on-the-back-of-the-head style of dealing42 with the sacred vessels43 would count himself spiritually quite competent to send a mission to convert the Indians. All that Sunday I listened to people who said that the mere44 fact of spiking45 down strips of iron to wood and getting a steam and iron thing to run along them was progress. That the telephone was progress, and the network of wires overhead was progress. They repeated their statements again and again. One of them took me to their city hall and board of trade works and pointed46 it out with pride. It was very ugly, but very big, and the streets in front of it were narrow and unclean. When I saw the faces of the men who did business in that building I felt that there had been a mistake in their billeting.
By the way, ’tis a consolation47 to feel that I am not writing to an English audience. Then should I have to fall into feigned48 ecstasies49 over the marvellous progress of Chicago since the days of the great fire, to allude50 casually51 to the raising of the entire city so many feet above the level of the lake which it faces, and generally to grovel52 before the golden calf53. But you, who are desperately54 poor, and therefore by these standards of no account, know things, and will understand when I write that they have managed to get a million of men together on flat land, and that the bulk of these men appear to be lower than mahajans and not so companionable as a punjabi jat after harvest. But I don’t think it was the blind hurry of the people, their argot55, and their grand ignorance of things beyond their immediate56 interests that displeased57 me so much as a study of the daily papers of Chicago. Imprimis, there was some sort of dispute between New York and Chicago as to which town should give an exhibition of products to be hereafter holden, and through the medium of their more dignified58 journals the two cities were ya-hooing and hi-yi-ing at each other like opposition59 newsboys. They called it humour, but it sounded like something quite different. That was only the first trouble. The second lay in the tone of the productions. Leading articles which include gems60 such as: ‘Back of such and such a place,’ or ‘We noticed, Tuesday, such an event,’ or ‘don’t’ for ‘does not’ are things to be accepted with thankfulness. All that made me want to cry was that, in these papers, were faithfully reproduced all the war-cries and ‘back-talk’ of the Palmer House bar, the slang of the barbers’ shops, the mental elevation61 and integrity of the Pullman-car porter, the dignity of the Dime63 Museum, and the accuracy of the excited fishwife. I am sternly forbidden to believe that the paper educates the public. Then I am compelled to believe that the public educate the paper?
Just when the sense of unreality and oppression were strongest upon me, and when I most wanted help, a man sat at my side and began to talk what he called politics. I had chanced to pay about six shillings for a travelling-cap worth eighteen pence, and he made of the fact a text for a sermon. He said that this was a rich country and that the people liked to pay two hundred per cent on the value of a thing. They could afford it. He said that the Government imposed a protective duty of from ten to seventy per cent on foreign-made articles, and that the American manufacturer consequently could sell his goods for a healthy sum. Thus an imported hat would, with duty, cost two guineas. The American manufacturer would make a hat for seventeen shillings and sell it for one pound fifteen. In these things, he said, lay the greatness of America and the effeteness64 of England. Competition between factory and factory kept the prices down to decent limits, but I was never to forget that this people were a rich people, not like the pauper65 Continentals66, and that they enjoyed paying duties. To my weak intellect this seemed rather like juggling67 with counters. Everything that I have yet purchased costs about twice as much as it would in England, and when native-made is of inferior quality. Moreover, since these lines were first thought of I have visited a gentleman who owned a factory which used to produce things. He owned the factory still. Not a man, was in it, but he was drawing a handsome income from a syndicate of firms for keeping it closed in order that it might not produce things. This man said that if protection were abandoned, a tide of pauper labour would flood the country, and as I looked at his factory I thought how entirely68 better it was to have no labour of any kind whatever, rather than face so horrible a future. Meantime, do you remember that this peculiar69 country enjoys paying money for value not received. I am an alien, and for the life of me cannot see why six shillings should be paid for eighteen-penny caps, or eight shillings for half-crown cigar-cases. When the country fills up to a decently populated level a few million people who are not aliens will be smitten70 with the same sort of blindness.
But my friend’s assertion somehow thoroughly71 suited the grotesque72 ferocity of Chicago. See now and judge! In the village of Isser Jang on the road to Montgomery there be four changar women who winnow73 corn — some seventy bushels a year. Beyond their hut lives Puran Dass, the moneylender, who on good security lends as much as five thousand rupees in a year. Jowala Singh, the lohar, mends the village ploughs — some thirty, broken at the share, in three hundred and sixty-five days; and Hukm Chund, who is letter-writer and head of the little club under the travellers’ tree, generally keeps the village posted in such gossip as the barber and the midwife have not yet made public property. Chicago husks and winnows74 her wheat by the million bushels, a hundred banks lend hundreds of millions of dollars in the year, and scores of factories turn out plough gear and machinery75 by steam. Scores of daily papers do work which Hukm Chund and the barber and the midwife perform, with due regard for public opinion, in the village of Isser Jang. So far as manufactures go, the difference between Chicago on the lake and Isser Jang on the Montgomery road is one of degree only, and not of kind. As far as the understanding of the uses of life goes Isser Jang, for all its seasonal76 cholera77, has the advantage over Chicago. Jowala Singh knows and takes care to avoid the three or four ghoul-haunted fields on the outskirts78 of the village; but he is not urged by millions of devils to run about all day in the sun and swear that his ploughshares are the best in the Punjab; nor does Puran Dass fly forth79 in a cart more than once or twice a year, and he knows, on a pinch, how to use the railway and the telegraph as well as any son of Israel in Chicago. But this is absurd. The East is not the West, and these men must continue to deal with the machinery of life, and to call it progress. Their very preachers dare not rebuke80 them. They gloss81 over the hunting for money and the twice-sharpened bitterness of Adam’s curse by saying that such things dower a man with a larger range of thoughts and higher aspirations82. They do not say: ‘Free yourself from your own slavery,’ but rather, ‘If you can possibly manage it, do not set quite so much store on the things of this world.’ And they do not know what the things of this world are.
I went off to see cattle killed byway of clearing my head, which, as you will perceive, was getting muddled83. They say every Englishman goes to the Chicago stock-yards. You shall find them about six miles from the city; and once having seen them will never forget the sight. As far as the eye can reach stretches a township of cattle-pens, cunningly divided into blocks so that the animals of any pen can be speedily driven out close to an inclined timber path which leads to an elevated covered way straddling high above the pens. These viaducts are two-storied. On the upper story tramp the doomed84 cattle, stolidly85 for the most part. On the lower, with a scuffling of sharp hooves and multitudinous yells, run the pigs. The same end is appointed for each. Thus you will see the gangs of cattle waiting their turn — as they wait sometimes for days and they need not be distressed86 by the sight of their fellows running about in the fear of death. All they know is that a man on horseback causes their next-door neighbours to move by means of a whip. Certain bars and fences are unshipped, and, behold87, that crowd have gone up the mouth of a sloping tunnel and return no more. It is different with the pigs. They shriek88 back the news of the exodus89 to their friends, and a hundred pens skirl responsive. It was to the pigs I first addressed myself. Selecting a viaduct which was full of them, as I could hear though I could not see, I marked a sombre building whereto it ran, and went there, not unalarmed by stray cattle who had managed to escape from their proper quarters. A pleasant smell of brine warned me of what was coming. I entered the factory and found it full of pork in barrels, and on another story more pork unbarrelled, and in a huge room, the halves of swine for whose use great lumps of ice were being pitched in at the window. That room was the mortuary chamber90 where the pigs lie for a little while in state ere they begin their progress through such passages as kings may sometimes travel. Turning a corner and not noting an overhead arrangement of greased rail, wheel, and pulley, I ran into the arms of four eviscerated91 carcasses, all pure white and of a human aspect, being pushed by a man clad in vehement92 red. When I leaped aside, the floor was slippery under me. There was a flavour of farmyard in my nostrils93 and the shouting of a multitude in my ears. But there was no joy in that shouting. Twelve men stood in two lines — six a-side. Between them and overhead ran the railway of death that had nearly shunted me through the window. Each man carried a knife, the sleeves of his shirt were cut off at the elbows, and from bosom94 to heel he was blood-red. The atmosphere was stifling95 as a night in the Rains, by reason of the steam and the crowd. I climbed to the beginning of things and, perched upon a narrow beam, overlooked very nearly all the pigs ever bred in Wisconsin. They had just been shot out of the mouth of the viaduct and huddled96 together in a large pen. Thence they were flicked97 persuasively98, a few at a time, into a smaller chamber, and there a man fixed99 tackle on their hinder legs so that they rose in the air suspended from the railway of death. Oh! it was then they shrieked100 and called on their mothers and made promises of amendment101, till the tackle-man punted them in their backs, and they slid head down into a brick-floored passage, very like a big kitchen sink that was blood-red. There awaited them a red man with a knife which he passed jauntily102 through their throats, and the full-voiced shriek became a sputter103, and then a fall as of heavy tropical rain. The red man who was backed against the passage wall stood clear of the wildly kicking hooves and passed his hand over his eyes, not from any feeling of compassion104, but because the spurted105 blood was in his eyes, and he had barely time to stick the next arrival. Then that first stuck swine dropped, still kicking, into a great vat62 of boiling water, and spoke106 no more words, but wallowed in obedience107 to some unseen machinery, and presently came forth at the lower end of the vat and was heaved on the blades of a blunt paddle-wheel-thing which said, ‘Hough! Hough! Hough!’ and skelped all the hair off him except what little a couple of men with knives could remove. Then he was again hitched108 by the heels to that sad railway and passed down the line of the twelve men-each man with a knife — leaving with each man a certain amount of his individuality which was taken away in a wheelbarrow, and when he reached the last man he was very beautiful to behold, but immensely unstuffed and limp. Preponderance of individuality was ever a bar to foreign travel. That pig could have been in no case to visit you in India had he not parted with some of his most cherished notions.
The dissecting109 part impressed me not so much as the slaying110. They were so excessively alive, these pigs. And then they were so excessively dead, and the man in the dripping, clammy, hot passage did not seem to care, and ere the blood of such an one had ceased to foam111 on the floor, such another, and four friends with him, had shrieked and died. But a pig is only the Unclean animal — forbidden by the Prophet.
I was destined112 to make rather a queer discovery when I went over to the cattle-slaughter113. All the buildings here were on a much larger scale, and there was no sound of trouble, but I could smell the salt reek114 of blood before I set foot in the place. The cattle did not come directly through the viaduct as the pigs had done. They debouched into a yard by the hundred, and they were big red brutes115 carrying much flesh. In the centre of that yard stood a red Texan steer116 with a head stall on his wicked head. No man controlled him. He was, so to speak, picking his teeth and whistling in an open byre of his own when the cattle arrived. As soon as the first one had fearfully quitted the viaduct, this red devil put his hands in his pockets and slouched across the yard, no man guiding him. Then he lowed something to the effect that he was the regularly appointed guide of the establishment and would show them round. They were country folk, but they knew how to behave; and so followed Judas some hundred strong, patiently, and with a look of bland117 wonder in their faces. I saw his broad back jogging in advance of them, up a lime-washed incline where I was forbidden to follow. Then a door shut, and in a minute back came Judas with the air of a virtuous118 plough-bullock and took up his place in his byre. Somebody laughed across the yard, but I heard no sound of cattle from the big brick building into which the mob had disappeared. Only Judas chewed the cud with a malignant119 satisfaction, and so I knew there was trouble, and ran round to the front of the factory and so entered and stood aghast.
Who takes count of the prejudices which we absorb through the skin by way of our surroundings? It was not the spectacle that impressed me. The first thought that almost spoke itself aloud was: ‘They are killing120 kine’; and it was a shock. The pigs were nobody’s concern, but cattle — the brothers of the Cow, the Sacred Cow — were quite otherwise. The next time an M.P. tells me that India either Sultanises or Brahminises a man, I shall believe about half what he says. It is unpleasant to watch the slaughter of cattle when one has laughed at the notion for a few years. I could not see actually what was done in the first instance, because the row of stalls in which they lay was separated from me by fifty impassable feet of butchers and slung121 carcasses. All I know is that men swung open the doors of a stall as occasion required, and there lay two steers122 already stunned123, and breathing heavily. These two they pole-axed, and half raising them by tackle they cut their throats. Two men skinned each carcass, somebody cut off the head, and in half a minute more the overhead rail carried two sides of beef to their appointed place. There was clamour enough in the operating-room, but from the waiting cattle, invisible on the other side of the line of pens, never a sound. They went to their death, trusting Judas, without a word. They were slain124 at the rate of five a minute, and if the pig men were spattered with blood, the cow butchers were bathed in it. The blood ran in muttering gutters125. There was no place for hand or foot that was not coated with thicknesses of dried blood, and the stench of it in the nostrils bred fear.
And then the same merciful Providence126 that has showered good things on my path throughout sent me an embodiment of the city of Chicago, so that I might remember it forever. Women come sometimes to see the slaughter, as they would come to see the slaughter of men. And there entered that vermilion hall a young woman of large mould, with brilliantly scarlet127 lips, and heavy eye brows, and dark hair that came in a ‘widow’s peak’ on the forehead. She was well and healthy and alive, and she was dressed in flaming red and black, and her feet (know you that the feet of American women are like unto the feet of fairies?) her feet, I say, were cased in red leather shoes. She stood in a patch of sunlight, the red blood under her shoes, the vivid carcasses stacked round her, a bullock bleeding its life away not six feet away from her, and, the death-factory roaring all round her. She looked curiously128, with hard, bold eyes, and was not ashamed.
Then said I: ‘This is a special Sending. I have seen the City of Chicago.’ And I went away to get peace and rest.
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shambles
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| n.混乱之处；废墟 | |
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lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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wilful
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| adj.任性的，故意的 | |
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specious
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| adj.似是而非的；adv.似是而非地 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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crammed
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| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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barbarians
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| n.野蛮人( barbarian的名词复数 )；外国人；粗野的人；无教养的人 | |
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inferno
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| n.火海；地狱般的场所 | |
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vistas
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| 长条形景色( vista的名词复数 )； 回顾； 展望； （未来可能发生的）一系列情景 | |
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maze
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| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
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turmoil
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| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
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reverently
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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huddle
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| vi.挤作一团；蜷缩；vt.聚集；n.挤在一起的人 | |
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bellies
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| n.肚子( belly的名词复数 )；腹部；（物体的）圆形或凸起部份；腹部…形的 | |
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untold
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| adj.数不清的，无数的 | |
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adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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vender
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| n.小贩 | |
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dolorously
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| adj. 悲伤的；痛苦的；悲哀的；阴沉的 | |
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legitimate
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| adj.合法的，合理的，合乎逻辑的；v.使合法 | |
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snarling
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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wilderness
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babbling
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| n.胡说，婴儿发出的咿哑声adj.胡说的v.喋喋不休( babble的现在分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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hoard
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| n./v.窖藏，贮存，囤积 | |
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insular
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| adj.岛屿的，心胸狭窄的 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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colloquially
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| adv.用白话，用通俗语 | |
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potentate
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| n.统治者；君主 | |
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gilding
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| n.贴金箔，镀金 | |
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apropos
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| adv.恰好地；adj.恰当的；关于 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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deity
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| n.神，神性；被奉若神明的人(或物) | |
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blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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benediction
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| n.祝福；恩赐 | |
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38
perused
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| v.读（某篇文字）( peruse的过去式和过去分词 )；（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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39
specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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40
brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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41
idols
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| 偶像( idol的名词复数 )； 受崇拜的人或物； 受到热爱和崇拜的人或物； 神像 | |
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42
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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43
vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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44
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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45
spiking
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| n.尖峰形成v.加烈酒于( spike的现在分词 )；偷偷地给某人的饮料加入（更多）酒精（ 或药物）；把尖状物钉入；打乱某人的计划 | |
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46
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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47
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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48
feigned
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| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
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49
ecstasies
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| 狂喜( ecstasy的名词复数 )； 出神； 入迷； 迷幻药 | |
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50
allude
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| v.提及，暗指 | |
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51
casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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52
grovel
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| vi.卑躬屈膝，奴颜婢膝 | |
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53
calf
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| n.小牛，犊，幼仔，小牛皮 | |
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54
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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55
argot
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| n.隐语，黑话 | |
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56
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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57
displeased
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| a.不快的 | |
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58
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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59
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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60
gems
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| growth； economy； management； and customer satisfaction 增长 | |
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61
elevation
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| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
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62
vat
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| n.(=value added tax)增值税，大桶 | |
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63
dime
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| n.（指美国、加拿大的钱币）一角 | |
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64
effeteness
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| 性能 | |
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65
pauper
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| n.贫民，被救济者，穷人 | |
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66
continentals
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| n.（欧洲）大陆人( continental的名词复数 ) | |
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67
juggling
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| n. 欺骗, 杂耍(=jugglery) adj. 欺骗的, 欺诈的 动词juggle的现在分词 | |
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68
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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69
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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70
smitten
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| 猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去分词 ) | |
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71
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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72
grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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73
winnow
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| v．把（谷物）的杂质吹掉，扬去 | |
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74
winnows
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| v.扬( winnow的第三人称单数 )；辨别；选择；除去 | |
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75
machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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76
seasonal
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| adj.季节的，季节性的 | |
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77
cholera
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| n.霍乱 | |
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78
outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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79
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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80
rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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81
gloss
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| n.光泽，光滑；虚饰；注释；vt.加光泽于；掩饰 | |
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82
aspirations
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| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
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83
muddled
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| adj.混乱的；糊涂的；头脑昏昏然的v.弄乱，弄糟( muddle的过去式)；使糊涂；对付，混日子 | |
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84
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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85
stolidly
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| adv.迟钝地，神经麻木地 | |
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86
distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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87
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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88
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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89
exodus
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| v.大批离去，成群外出 | |
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90
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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91
eviscerated
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| v.切除…的内脏( eviscerate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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92
vehement
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| adj.感情强烈的；热烈的；(人)有强烈感情的 | |
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93
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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94
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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95
stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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96
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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97
flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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98
persuasively
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| adv.口才好地；令人信服地 | |
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99
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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100
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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101
amendment
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| n.改正，修正，改善，修正案 | |
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102
jauntily
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| adv.心满意足地；洋洋得意地；高兴地；活泼地 | |
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103
sputter
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| n.喷溅声；v.喷溅 | |
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104
compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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105
spurted
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| （液体，火焰等）喷出，（使）涌出( spurt的过去式和过去分词 )； （短暂地）加速前进，冲刺 | |
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106
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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107
obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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108
hitched
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| （免费）搭乘他人之车( hitch的过去式和过去分词 )； 搭便车； 攀上； 跃上 | |
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109
dissecting
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| v.解剖（动物等）( dissect的现在分词 )；仔细分析或研究 | |
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110
slaying
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| 杀戮。 | |
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111
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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112
destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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113
slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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114
reek
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| v.发出臭气；n.恶臭 | |
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115
brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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116
steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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117
bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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118
virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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119
malignant
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| adj.恶性的，致命的；恶意的，恶毒的 | |
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120
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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121
slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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122
steers
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| n.阉公牛，肉用公牛( steer的名词复数 )v.驾驶( steer的第三人称单数 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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123
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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124
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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125
gutters
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| （路边）排水沟( gutter的名词复数 )； 阴沟； （屋顶的）天沟； 贫贱的境地 | |
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126
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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127
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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128
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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