But Philip’s self-taught skill in drawing was another link between them; for Tom found, to his disgust, that his new drawing-master gave him no dogs and donkeys to draw, but brooks25 and rustic26 bridges and ruins, all with a general softness of black-lead surface, indicating that nature, if anything, was rather satiny; and as Tom’s feeling for the picturesque27 in landscape was at present quite latent, it is not surprising that Mr. Goodrich’s productions seemed to him an uninteresting form of art. Mr. Tulliver, having a vague intention that Tom should be put to some business which included the drawing out of plans and maps, had complained to Mr. Riley, when he saw him at Mudport, that Tom seemed to be learning nothing of that sort; whereupon that obliging adviser28 had suggested that Tom should have drawing-lessons. Mr. Tulliver must not mind paying extra for drawing; let Tom be made a good draughtsman, and he would be able to turn his pencil to any purpose. So it was ordered that Tom should have drawing-lessons; and whom should Mr. Stelling have selected as a master if not Mr. Goodrich, who was considered quite at the head of his profession within a circuit of twelve miles round King’s Lorton? By which means Tom learned to make an extremely fine point to his pencil, and to represent landscape with a “broad generality,” which, doubtless from a narrow tendency in his mind to details, he thought extremely dull.
All this, you remember, happened in those dark ages when there were no schools of design; before schoolmasters were invariably men of scrupulous29 integrity, and before the clergy30 were all men of enlarged minds and varied31 culture. In those less favored days, it is no fable32 that there were other clergymen besides Mr. Stelling who had narrow intellects and large wants, and whose income, by a logical confusion to which Fortune, being a female as well as blindfold34, is peculiarly liable, was proportioned not to their wants but to their intellect, with which income has clearly no inherent relation. The problem these gentlemen had to solve was to readjust the proportion between their wants and their income; and since wants are not easily starved to death, the simpler method appeared to be to raise their income. There was but one way of doing this; any of those low callings in which men are obliged to do good work at a low price were forbidden to clergymen; was it their fault if their only resource was to turn out very poor work at a high price? Besides, how should Mr. Stelling be expected to know that education was a delicate and difficult business, any more than an animal endowed with a power of boring a hole through a rock should be expected to have wide views of excavation36? Mr. Stelling’s faculties37 had been early trained to boring in a straight line, and he had no faculty38 to spare. But among Tom’s contemporaries, whose fathers cast their sons on clerical instruction to find them ignorant after many days, there were many far less lucky than Tom Tulliver. Education was almost entirely39 a matter of luck — usually of ill-luck — in those distant days. The state of mind in which you take a billiard-cue or a dice-box in your hand is one of sober certainty compared with that of old-fashioned fathers, like Mr. Tulliver, when they selected a school or a tutor for their sons. Excellent men, who had been forced all their lives to spell on an impromptu40-phonetic system, and having carried on a successful business in spite of this disadvantage, had acquired money enough to give their sons a better start in life than they had had themselves, must necessarily take their chance as to the conscience and the competence41 of the schoolmaster whose circular fell in their way, and appeared to promise so much more than they would ever have thought of asking for, including the return of linen42, fork, and spoon. It was happy for them if some ambitious draper of their acquaintance had not brought up his son to the Church, and if that young gentleman, at the age of four-and-twenty, had not closed his college dissipations by an imprudent marriage; otherwise, these innocent fathers, desirous of doing the best for their offspring, could only escape the draper’s son by happening to be on the foundation of a grammar-school as yet unvisited by commissioners43, where two or three boys could have, all to themselves, the advantages of a large and lofty building, together with a head-master, toothless, dim-eyed and deaf, whose erudite indistinctness and inattention were engrossed44 by them at the rate of three hundred pounds a-head — a ripe scholar, doubtless, when first appointed; but all ripeness beneath the sun has a further stage less esteemed45 in the market.
Tom Tulliver, then, compared with many other British youths of his time who have since had to scramble47 through life with some fragments of more or less relevant knowledge, and a great deal of strictly48 relevant ignorance, was not so very unlucky. Mr. Stelling was a broad-chested, healthy man, with the bearing of a gentleman, a conviction that a growing boy required a sufficiency of beef, and a certain hearty49 kindness in him that made him like to see Tom looking well and enjoying his dinner; not a man of refined conscience, or with any deep sense of the infinite issues belonging to every-day duties, not quite competent to his high offices; but incompetent50 gentlemen must live, and without private fortune it is difficult to see how they could all live genteelly if they had nothing to do with education or government. Besides, it was the fault of Tom’s mental constitution that his faculties could not be nourished on the sort of knowledge Mr. Stelling had to communicate. A boy born with a deficient51 power of apprehending52 signs and abstractions must suffer the penalty of his congenital deficiency, just as if he had been born with one leg shorter than the other. A method of education sanctioned by the long practice of our venerable ancestors was not to give way before the exceptional dulness of a boy who was merely living at the time then present. And Mr. Stelling was convinced that a boy so stupid at signs and abstractions must be stupid at everything else, even if that reverend gentleman could have taught him everything else. It was the practice of our venerable ancestors to apply that ingenious instrument the thumb-screw, and to tighten53 and tighten it in order to elicit54 non-existent facts; they had a fixed55 opinion to begin with, that the facts were existent, and what had they to do but to tighten the thumb-screw? In like manner, Mr. Stelling had a fixed opinion that all boys with any capacity could learn what it was the only regular thing to teach; if they were slow, the thumb-screw must be tightened56 — the exercises must be insisted on with increased severity, and a page of Virgil be awarded as a penalty, to encourage and stimulate57 a too languid inclination58 to Latin verse.
The thumb-screw was a little relaxed, however, during this second half-year. Philip was so advanced in his studies, and so apt, that Mr. Stelling could obtain credit by his facility, which required little help, much more easily than by the troublesome process of overcoming Tom’s dulness. Gentlemen with broad chests and ambitious intentions do sometimes disappoint their friends by failing to carry the world before them. Perhaps it is that high achievements demand some other unusual qualification besides an unusual desire for high prizes; perhaps it is that these stalwart gentlemen are rather indolent, their divinae particulum aurae being obstructed59 from soaring by a too hearty appetite. Some reason or other there was why Mr. Stelling deferred60 the execution of many spirited projects — why he did not begin the editing of his Greek play, or any other work of scholarship, in his leisure hours, but, after turning the key of his private study with much resolution, sat down to one of Theodore Hook’s novels. Tom was gradually allowed to shuffle61 through his lessons with less rigor62, and having Philip to help him, he was able to make some show of having applied63 his mind in a confused and blundering way, without being cross-examined into a betrayal that his mind had been entirely neutral in the matter. He thought school much more bearable under this modification64 of circumstances; and he went on contentedly65 enough, picking up a promiscuous66 education chiefly from things that were not intended as education at all. What was understood to be his education was simply the practice of reading, writing, and spelling, carried on by an elaborate appliance of unintelligible67 ideas, and by much failure in the effort to learn by rote68.
Nevertheless, there was a visible improvement in Tom under this training; perhaps because he was not a boy in the abstract, existing solely69 to illustrate70 the evils of a mistaken education, but a boy made of flesh and blood, with dispositions71 not entirely at the mercy of circumstances.
There was a great improvement in his bearing, for example; and some credit on this score was due to Mr. Poulter, the village schoolmaster, who, being an old Peninsular soldier, was employed to drill Tom — a source of high mutual72 pleasure. Mr. Poulter, who was understood by the company at the Black Swan to have once struck terror into the hearts of the French, was no longer personally formidable. He had rather a shrunken appearance, and was tremulous in the mornings, not from age, but from the extreme perversity73 of the King’s Lorton boys, which nothing but gin could enable him to sustain with any firmness. Still, he carried himself with martial74 erectness75, had his clothes scrupulously76 brushed, and his trousers tightly strapped77; and on the Wednesday and Saturday afternoons, when he came to Tom, he was always inspired with gin and old memories, which gave him an exceptionally spirited air, as of a superannuated78 charger who hears the drum. The drilling-lessons were always protracted79 by episodes of warlike narrative80, much more interesting to Tom than Philip’s stories out of the Iliad; for there were no cannon81 in the Iliad, and besides, Tom had felt some disgust on learning that Hector and Achilles might possibly never have existed. But the Duke of Wellington was really alive, and Bony had not been long dead; therefore Mr. Poulter’s reminiscences of the Peninsular War were removed from all suspicion of being mythical82. Mr. Poulter, it appeared, had been a conspicuous83 figure at Talavera, and had contributed not a little to the peculiar35 terror with which his regiment84 of infantry85 was regarded by the enemy. On afternoons when his memory was more stimulated86 than usual, he remembered that the Duke of Wellington had (in strict privacy, lest jealousies87 should be awakened) expressed his esteem46 for that fine fellow Poulter. The very surgeon who attended him in the hospital after he had received his gunshot-wound had been profoundly impressed with the superiority of Mr. Poulter’s flesh — no other flesh would have healed in anything like the same time. On less personal matters connected with the important warfare88 in which he had been engaged, Mr. Poulter was more reticent89, only taking care not to give the weight of his authority to any loose notions concerning military history. Any one who pretended to a knowledge of what occurred at the siege of Badajos was especially an object of silent pity to Mr. Poulter; he wished that prating90 person had been run down, and had the breath trampled91 out of him at the first go-off, as he himself had — he might talk about the siege of Badajos then! Tom did not escape irritating his drilling-master occasionally, by his curiosity concerning other military matters than Mr. Poulter’s personal experience.
“And General Wolfe, Mr. Poulter — wasn’t he a wonderful fighter?” said Tom, who held the notion that all the martial heroes commemorated92 on the public-house signs were engaged in the war with Bony.
“Not at all!” said Mr. Poulter, contemptuously. “Nothing o’ the sort! Heads up!” he added, in a tone of stern command, which delighted Tom, and made him feel as if he were a regiment in his own person.
“No, no!” Mr. Poulter would continue, on coming to a pause in his discipline; “they’d better not talk to me about General Wolfe. He did nothing but die of his wound; that’s a poor haction, I consider. Any other man ‘ud have died o’ the wounds I’ve had. One of my sword-cuts ‘ud ha’ killed a fellow like General Wolfe.”
“Mr. Poulter,” Tom would say, at any allusion93 to the sword, “I wish you’d bring your sword and do the sword-exercise!”
For a long while Mr. Poulter only shook his head in a significant manner at this request, and smiled patronizingly, as Jupiter may have done when Semele urged her too ambitious request. But one afternoon, when a sudden shower of heavy rain had detained Mr. Poulter twenty minutes longer than usual at the Black Swan, the sword was brought — just for Tom to look at.
“And this is the real sword you fought with in all the battles, Mr. Poulter?” said Tom, handling the hilt. “Has it ever cut a Frenchman’s head off?”
“Head off? Ah! and would, if he’d had three heads.”
“But you had a gun and bayonet besides?” said Tom. “I should like the gun and bayonet best, because you could shoot ’em first and spear ’em after. Bang! Ps-s-s-s!” Tom gave the requisite94 pantomime to indicate the double enjoyment95 of pulling the trigger and thrusting the spear.
“Ah, but the sword’s the thing when you come to close fighting,” said Mr. Poulter, involuntarily falling in with Tom’s enthusiasm, and drawing the sword so suddenly that Tom leaped back with much agility96.
“Oh, but, Mr. Poulter, if you’re going to do the exercise,” said Tom, a little conscious that he had not stood his ground as became an Englishman, “let me go and call Philip. He’ll like to see you, you know.”
“What! the humpbacked lad?” said Mr. Poulter, contemptuously; “what’s the use of his looking on?”
“Oh, but he knows a great deal about fighting,” said Tom, “and how they used to fight with bows and arrows, and battle-axes.”
“Let him come, then. I’ll show him something different from his bows and arrows,” said Mr. Poulter, coughing and drawing himself up, while he gave a little preliminary play to his wrist.
Tom ran in to Philip, who was enjoying his afternoon’s holiday at the piano, in the drawing-room, picking out tunes97 for himself and singing them. He was supremely98 happy, perched like an amorphous99 bundle on the high stool, with his head thrown back, his eyes fixed on the opposite cornice, and his lips wide open, sending forth100, with all his might, impromptu syllables101 to a tune33 of Arne’s which had hit his fancy.
“Come, Philip,” said Tom, bursting in; “don’t stay roaring ‘la la’ there; come and see old Poulter do his sword-exercise in the carriage-house!”
The jar of this interruption, the discord102 of Tom’s tones coming across the notes to which Philip was vibrating in soul and body, would have been enough to unhinge his temper, even if there had been no question of Poulter the drilling-master; and Tom, in the hurry of seizing something to say to prevent Mr. Poulter from thinking he was afraid of the sword when he sprang away from it, had alighted on this proposition to fetch Philip, though he knew well enough that Philip hated to hear him mention his drilling-lessons. Tom would never have done so inconsiderate a thing except under the severe stress of his personal pride.
Philip shuddered103 visibly as he paused from his music. Then turning red, he said, with violent passion —
“Get away, you lumbering104 idiot! Don’t come bellowing105 at me; you’re not fit to speak to anything but a cart-horse!”
It was not the first time Philip had been made angry by him, but Tom had never before been assailed106 with verbal missiles that he understood so well.
“I’m fit to speak to something better than you, you poor-spirited imp6!” said Tom, lighting107 up immediately at Philip’s fire. “You know I won’t hit you, because you’re no better than a girl. But I’m an honest man’s son, and your father’s a rogue108; everybody says so!”
Tom flung out of the room, and slammed the door after him, made strangely heedless by his anger; for to slam doors within the hearing of Mrs. Stelling, who was probably not far off, was an offence only to be wiped out by twenty lines of Virgil. In fact, that lady did presently descend109 from her room, in double wonder at the noise and the subsequent cessation of Philip’s music. She found him sitting in a heap on the hassock, and crying bitterly.
“What’s the matter, Wakem? what was that noise about? Who slammed the door?”
Philip looked up, and hastily dried his eyes. “It was Tulliver who came in — to ask me to go out with him.”
“And what are you in trouble about?” said Mrs. Stelling.
Philip was not her favorite of the two pupils; he was less obliging than Tom, who was made useful in many ways. Still, his father paid more than Mr. Tulliver did, and she meant him to feel that she behaved exceedingly well to him. Philip, however, met her advances toward a good understanding very much as a caressed110 mollusk111 meets an invitation to show himself out of his shell. Mrs. Stelling was not a loving, tender-hearted woman; she was a woman whose skirt sat well, who adjusted her waist and patted her curls with a preoccupied112 air when she inquired after your welfare. These things, doubtless, represent a great social power, but it is not the power of love; and no other power could win Philip from his personal reserve.
He said, in answer to her question, “My toothache came on, and made me hysterical113 again.”
This had been the fact once, and Philip was glad of the recollection; it was like an inspiration to enable him to excuse his crying. He had to accept eau-de-Cologne and to refuse creosote in consequence; but that was easy.
Meanwhile Tom, who had for the first time sent a poisoned arrow into Philip’s heart, had returned to the carriage-house, where he found Mr. Poulter, with a fixed and earnest eye, wasting the perfections of his sword-exercise on probably observant but inappreciative rats. But Mr. Poulter was a host in himself; that is to say, he admired himself more than a whole army of spectators could have admired him. He took no notice of Tom’s return, being too entirely absorbed in the cut and thrust — the solemn one, two, three, four; and Tom, not without a slight feeling of alarm at Mr. Poulter’s fixed eye and hungry-looking sword, which seemed impatient for something else to cut besides the air, admired the performance from as great a distance as possible. It was not until Mr. Poulter paused and wiped the perspiration114 from his forehead, that Tom felt the full charm of the sword-exercise, and wished it to be repeated.
“Mr. Poulter,” said Tom, when the sword was being finally sheathed115, “I wish you’d lend me your sword a little while to keep.”
“No no, young gentleman,” said Mr. Poulter, shaking his head decidedly; “you might do yourself some mischief116 with it.”
“No, I’m sure I wouldn’t; I’m sure I’d take care and not hurt myself. I shouldn’t take it out of the sheath much, but I could ground arms with it, and all that.”
“No, no, it won’t do, I tell you; it won’t do,” said Mr. Poulter, preparing to depart. “What ‘ud Mr. Stelling say to me?”
“Oh, I say, do, Mr. Poulter! I’d give you my five-shilling piece if you’d let me keep the sword a week. Look here!” said Tom, reaching out the attractively large round of silver. The young dog calculated the effect as well as if he had been a philosopher.
“Well,” said Mr. Poulter, with still deeper gravity, “you must keep it out of sight, you know.”
“Oh yes, I’ll keep it under the bed,” said Tom, eagerly, “or else at the bottom of my large box.”
“And let me see, now, whether you can draw it out of the sheath without hurting yourself.” That process having been gone through more than once, Mr. Poulter felt that he had acted with scrupulous conscientiousness117, and said, “Well, now, Master Tulliver, if I take the crown-piece, it is to make sure as you’ll do no mischief with the sword.”
“Oh no, indeed, Mr. Poulter,” said Tom, delightedly handing him the crown-piece, and grasping the sword, which, he thought, might have been lighter118 with advantage.
“But if Mr. Stelling catches you carrying it in?” said Mr. Poulter, pocketing the crown-piece provisionally while he raised this new doubt.
“Oh, he always keeps in his upstairs study on Saturday afternoon,” said Tom, who disliked anything sneaking119, but was not disinclined to a little stratagem120 in a worthy121 cause. So he carried off the sword in triumph mixed with dread122 — dread that he might encounter Mr. or Mrs. Stelling — to his bedroom, where, after some consideration, he hid it in the closet behind some hanging clothes. That night he fell asleep in the thought that he would astonish Maggie with it when she came — tie it round his waist with his red comforter, and make her believe that the sword was his own, and that he was going to be a soldier. There was nobody but Maggie who would be silly enough to believe him, or whom he dared allow to know he had a sword; and Maggie was really coming next week to see Tom, before she went to a boarding-school with Lucy.
If you think a lad of thirteen would have been so childish, you must be an exceptionally wise man, who, although you are devoted123 to a civil calling, requiring you to look bland124 rather than formidable, yet never, since you had a beard, threw yourself into a martial attitude, and frowned before the looking-glass. It is doubtful whether our soldiers would be maintained if there were not pacific people at home who like to fancy themselves soldiers. War, like other dramatic spectacles, might possibly cease for want of a “public.”
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1
alterations
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| n.改动( alteration的名词复数 )；更改；变化；改变 | |
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intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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tenaciously
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| 坚持地 | |
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imp
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| n.顽童 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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rigidly
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| adv.刻板地，僵化地 | |
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pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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poker
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| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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epithets
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| n.（表示性质、特征等的）词语( epithet的名词复数 ) | |
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similes
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| （使用like或as等词语的）明喻( simile的名词复数 ) | |
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spurt
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| v.喷出；突然进发；突然兴隆 | |
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peevish
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| adj.易怒的，坏脾气的 | |
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recurring
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| adj.往复的，再次发生的 | |
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ailment
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| n.疾病，小病 | |
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irritability
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| n.易怒 | |
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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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patronage
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| n.赞助，支援，援助；光顾，捧场 | |
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savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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brooks
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| n.小溪( brook的名词复数 ) | |
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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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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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adviser
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| n.劝告者，顾问 | |
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scrupulous
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| adj.审慎的，小心翼翼的，完全的，纯粹的 | |
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clergy
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| n.[总称]牧师，神职人员 | |
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varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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fable
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| n.寓言；童话；神话 | |
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tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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blindfold
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| vt.蒙住…的眼睛；adj.盲目的；adv.盲目地；n.蒙眼的绷带[布等]； 障眼物，蒙蔽人的事物 | |
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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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excavation
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| n.挖掘，发掘；被挖掘之地 | |
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faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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impromptu
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| adj.即席的，即兴的；adv.即兴的(地)，无准备的(地) | |
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competence
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| n.能力，胜任，称职 | |
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linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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commissioners
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| n.专员( commissioner的名词复数 )；长官；委员；政府部门的长官 | |
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engrossed
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| adj.全神贯注的 | |
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esteemed
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| adj.受人尊敬的v.尊敬( esteem的过去式和过去分词 )；敬重；认为；以为 | |
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esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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47
scramble
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| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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50
incompetent
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| adj.无能力的，不能胜任的 | |
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51
deficient
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| adj.不足的，不充份的，有缺陷的 | |
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52
apprehending
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| 逮捕，拘押( apprehend的现在分词 )； 理解 | |
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53
tighten
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| v.(使)变紧；(使)绷紧 | |
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54
elicit
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| v.引出,抽出,引起 | |
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55
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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56
tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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57
stimulate
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| vt.刺激，使兴奋；激励，使…振奋 | |
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58
inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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59
obstructed
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| 阻塞( obstruct的过去式和过去分词 )； 堵塞； 阻碍； 阻止 | |
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deferred
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| adj.延期的，缓召的v.拖延，延缓，推迟( defer的过去式和过去分词 )；服从某人的意愿，遵从 | |
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61
shuffle
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| n.拖著脚走，洗纸牌；v.拖曳，慢吞吞地走 | |
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62
rigor
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| n.严酷，严格，严厉 | |
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63
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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64
modification
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| n.修改，改进，缓和，减轻 | |
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65
contentedly
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| adv.心满意足地 | |
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66
promiscuous
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| adj.杂乱的，随便的 | |
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67
unintelligible
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| adj.无法了解的，难解的，莫明其妙的 | |
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rote
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| n.死记硬背，生搬硬套 | |
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solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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70
illustrate
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| v.举例说明，阐明；图解，加插图 | |
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dispositions
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| 安排( disposition的名词复数 )； 倾向； （财产、金钱的）处置； 气质 | |
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72
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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73
perversity
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| n.任性；刚愎自用 | |
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martial
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| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
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75
erectness
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| n.直立 | |
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scrupulously
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| adv.一丝不苟地；小心翼翼地，多顾虑地 | |
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strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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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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protracted
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| adj.拖延的；延长的v.拖延“protract”的过去式和过去分词 | |
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80
narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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81
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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82
mythical
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| adj.神话的；虚构的；想像的 | |
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83
conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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infantry
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| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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86
stimulated
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| a.刺激的 | |
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87
jealousies
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| n.妒忌( jealousy的名词复数 )；妒羡 | |
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88
warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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reticent
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| adj.沉默寡言的；言不如意的 | |
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prating
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| v.（古时用语）唠叨，啰唆( prate的现在分词 ) | |
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trampled
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| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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commemorated
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| v.纪念，庆祝( commemorate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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94
requisite
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| adj.需要的，必不可少的；n.必需品 | |
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95
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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96
agility
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| n.敏捷，活泼 | |
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97
tunes
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| n.曲调，曲子( tune的名词复数 )v.调音( tune的第三人称单数 )；调整；（给收音机、电视等）调谐；使协调 | |
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supremely
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| adv.无上地，崇高地 | |
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99
amorphous
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| adj.无定形的 | |
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100
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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101
syllables
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| n.音节( syllable的名词复数 ) | |
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102
discord
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| n.不和，意见不合，争论，（音乐）不和谐 | |
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103
shuddered
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| 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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104
lumbering
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| n.采伐林木 | |
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105
bellowing
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的现在分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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106
assailed
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| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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107
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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108
rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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109
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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110
caressed
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| 爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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111
mollusk
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| n.软体动物 | |
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112
preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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113
hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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114
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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115
sheathed
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| adj.雕塑像下半身包在鞘中的；覆盖的；铠装的；装鞘了的v.将（刀、剑等）插入鞘( sheathe的过去式和过去分词 )；包，覆盖 | |
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116
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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117
conscientiousness
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| 责任心 | |
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118
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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119
sneaking
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| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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120
stratagem
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| n.诡计，计谋 | |
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121
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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122
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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123
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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124
bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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