A fortunate occurrence set the boy at work just at the right time and in the right direction. Wherever a Circus travels through the country, its performances take powerful effect on the impressible sympathies of energetic and ambitious youths. As it departs, it often leaves behind it a line of emulous lads, in mimic6 repetition of its scenes, climbing ropes, leaping bars, walking on their hands, standing7 on their heads, throwing somersaults, or posturing8, balancing, and wrestling. Such an experience befell Edwin, and his physical improvement under it was rapid. It deepened his breathing, invigorated the circulation of his blood, and straightened him up, bringing out his breast and throwing back his shoulders. And in his seventeenth year, the period which we have now reached, he was as fine a specimen9 of a manly10 youth as one might wish to see. He had a free, open bearing, with steadily11-confronting eyes, and a clear, deep voice. He had never been bashful; neither was he ever impudent12 or shameless. He was at once self-possessed and modest, combining an air of sincerity13 and justice with an expression of democratic independence. Such was the result, in his outward appearance, of his character, his parental15 inheritance and training, his dramatic practice, and his gymnastic exercises.
Accordingly, when, early in the September of 1822, it was
[Pg 97]
announced that the proprietors16 of the three theatres at Pittsburg, Lexington, and Cincinnati had come to Philadelphia for the purpose of engaging a company to perform alternately in those cities, and young Forrest, depressed18 and impatient from the failure of his previous attempts to secure a regular engagement, made personal application to manager Jones, that gentleman was so much pleased with his words and his bearing that he at once struck a bargain with him. The agreement was that for a compensation of eight dollars a week he should play, without a question, whatever parts he was cast in, no matter how high or how low the parts were. He was willing now, despite his precocious19 starring experiences, to take this humble20 position and hold himself ready for anything at the beck and call of his superior, because he had come keenly to feel how little he knew and how much he had to learn. And his sound sense, with the good advice he had received, taught him that there offered no other way so thoroughly21 and rapidly to master his profession as by submitting to a regular drill in the miscellaneous parts of the working stage, from top to bottom. He saw his path to the dramatic throne through the steps of a docile22 and patient apprenticeship24.
It was always a characteristic of him that he was unwilling25 to utter words while ignorant of their meaning. He studied what he was to speak, that he might speak it with intelligence and propriety26. Whether right or wrong, he would, as a rule, always know what he meant to do, and why and how. In illustration of this teachable spirit an incident may be adduced which he ever gratefully remembered as one of the most influential27 in his life.
When he was but fourteen, he was one evening in front of one of the Philadelphia theatres, when his attention was fixed28 on two large statues, or mythological29 figures, each carved from a single block of wood, pedestal and all, placed in niches30 at each side of the entrance. Under them were inscribed31 the names Thalia and Melpomene. "Who are Thallea and Melpomeen?" he asked of an elder comrade with whom he was wont32 to practise histrionics in the Thespian33 Club. "Oh, I don't know; a couple of Grecian queens, I guess," was the reply. A gentleman, handsomely dressed, with a benignant face and graceful34 mien35, who had overheard the question and the answer, stepped
[Pg 98]
forward, took Edwin by the hand, and said, "My lad, these figures, whose names you have not pronounced correctly, represent two characters in the old Greek mythology36. This one, with the mask and the mirror, is Thalia, the Muse37 of Comedy. That one, with the dagger38 and the bowl, is Melpomene, the Muse of Tragedy. They are appropriately painted here, because the theatre is the home of the drama, where both comedies and tragedies are performed. Now, my boy, if you like to learn, there is a book, which you can get at any book-store, called Walker's Classical Pronouncing Dictionary, to which on all such occasions you can refer and find just what you want to know." It was a beautiful action. And it fell on good soil. Edwin bought the volume, and he never ceased to practise the lesson or to be thankful to him who gave it, and on whose unknown head, even to the end of life, his grateful heart showered benedictions39. When, many years later, that theatre was taken down, Forrest, in memory of the incident above related, had the two statues purchased for him, intending to set them up in his own private theatre.
Edwin was an affectionate boy, who won affection from others notwithstanding his somewhat reckless spirit of adventure, frequent coarseness of speech, and violence of temper. He was sympathetic, as dramatic genius perforce must be, quick in intelligence, keen and eager in observation, and of an honest manner and make throughout. He was throbbing40 with hope and aspiration41 before the new prospect42 opened to him as he went around to say farewell to those he loved, his favorite companions among the amateur Thespians43, and his benefactors44. As he took the hand of one after another and said good-bye, the cuff45 of his sleeve repeatedly went to his eyes, and he felt those bitter twinges of pain familiar to boyish bosoms47 on such partings in all generations and all over the world. He went to the tannery, where, on the old stone table, his declamations as a proud and happy child had been applauded by Lorman and his fellow-workmen. He visited the tomb of his father, and the house of his kind old pastor48. Then came the last and severest trial of his fortitude49, the taking leave of his sisters, and, above all, of his mother, who was always enshrined in his inmost soul as an object of the most tender and sacred love. He girded himself up and got through with it, he hardly knew how.
[Pg 99]
One small and humble trunk held all his effects,—a very scant50 wardrobe, a few trifling51 keepsakes, a Bible the gift of his mother, an edition of Shakspeare in one cheap volume, Walker's Classical Pronouncing Dictionary, and a little collection of plays in pamphlet form. Joining the company which Collins and Jones had gathered, consisting of about a dozen persons, male and female, they regarded one another with mutual52 interest; and, with that intuitive reading of character which their professional art bestows53, they in an amazingly short time were intimately acquainted, and quite prepared to share adventures, confidences, and lives. Besides Collins and Jones, there were Groshorn, Scott, Eberle, leader of the orchestra, Lucas, scene-painter, Henderson, stage manager, Davis, Mrs. Pelby, Mrs. Riddle54, Miss Fenton, Miss Sallie Riddle, and Miss Eliza Riddle. Several of these not only had varied55 and ripe experience of the stage, but were also highly distinguished56 for their talents and accomplishments57. This was especially the case with Mrs. Pelby and Mrs. Riddle.
The magnetic personality, the inexperienced youth, the attractive ingenuousness59, and the enthusiastic ambition of Forrest made him at once a prominent object of attention in the company, all of whom were ready to give him such instructions and aids as were in their power. But, above all the rest, to the constant generous kindness and teaching of Mrs. Riddle he always expressed himself as deeply indebted for services rendered at the most critical period of his life, and whose record remained as fresh in his latest memory as their results were indelible in his being.
About the middle of October they began playing in Pittsburg, in a building so ruinous and dilapidated that on rainy nights the audience in the pit held up their umbrellas to screen themselves from the leakings through the roof. The first performance was Douglas, Forrest sustaining the part of Young Norval with much applause. In the course of the season here he played many characters, in tragedy, comedy, farce60, and ballet. In grappling with these subordinate parts he afterwards said he could distinctly remember that he often felt ashamed to find how ignorant he was, and was almost appalled61 at the immense task before him in becoming the actor he wished to be. But the progress he felt he
[Pg 100]
was making, combined with the unstinted praise he received, kept his spirits at a high point.
The following letter, dated Pittsburg, October 10th, 1822, is the earliest letter from him to his mother found among his papers after his death:
"Dear Mother,—I arrived here yesterday at about eleven o'clock, and am much pleased with the place and its inhabitants. I was quite out of patience riding so long in the stage over such tremendous mountains, but was greatly delighted, on reaching the summit of them, to view the surrounding country,—so vast and varied a landscape.
"Pittsburg is three hundred miles from Philadelphia. It is a sort of London in miniature, very black and smoky. The Alleghany River and Mountains surround it. The theatre is very old.
"This, you know, is the first time I have ever been away from you. I have felt many qualms62 of homesickness, and I miss you, dear, dear mother, more than words can give out. Has William gone to Petersburg? Furnish me with every particular, especially how our Tid is, and whether she reads with the yard-stick. Give me an account, too, of my Grandma, and of my beautiful Sister. The long ride in the stage has made my hurdies so callous63 that they would ward1 off a cannon-ball.
"Give my respects to all my friends, particularly to Philip. Inform me also, if you can, how the Tivoli Garden gets on. Write as early as possible, and pray pay the postage, as I am out of funds. I expect the managers by the next stage. Mr. Hughes, formerly64 of the Walnut65 Street Theatre, is here. I find him a perfect gentleman.
"Your affectionate son,
"Edwin Forrest."
In a short time the company collected their properties and took passage on the Ohio River in a flat-boat for Maysville, Kentucky. They floated lazily along for five days and nights, in delightful66 weather, through lovely scenery new to the most of them, filling the time with stories, games, and jokes,—a happy set, careless, healthy, and as gay and free as the ripples67 of the
[Pg 101]
stream that glanced around them. They played at Maysville a few evenings with excellent success, greatly delighting the rude Kentuckians, who thronged68 in from miles around.
Departing thence, they journeyed to Lexington, then the most important town in the State, where they were encouraged to make a considerable tarry, as they found a nice theatre, good patronage69, and an uncommonly70 intelligent auditory. The Transylvania University was here, under the presidency72 of the celebrated73 Horace Holley. Many of the teachers and pupils of the University attended the performances night after night. Forrest was looked on as a lad of extreme promise. He made many friends among the students. One of these friendships in particular, that formed with young James Taylor, son of a wealthy planter of Newport, was kept unbroken to the end of his life.
In 1870, Mr. William D. Gallagher, an old and dear friend of Mr. Forrest, visited Col. Taylor at his estate in Newport. Taylor gave him many pleasing reminiscences of his early days and his romantic friendship with the young actor, then so world-famous. He said that while at Lexington he one night invited Forrest to his hotel. He acceded75, without waiting to change his costume as Young Norval. He spent the night with him, sharing his bed, and breakfasted with him the next morning. After breakfast, as he went to his own quarters in another street, the boys, attracted by his theatrical76 dress, followed him with shouts and cheers.
President Holley was a man of very extraordinary oratorical77 power. He was really a man of genius, his freedom of thought and his æsthetic culture far in advance of his time. He had a great fame in his day, but, leaving no visible work behind him, his name is now but a faded tradition. He was so much struck by the performances of Forrest that he generously sought him out and held several long interviews with him, in which, with a masterly power which profoundly impressed his youthful listener, he unfolded his views of art and of life and urged him to cherish noble aspirations78 in the profession he had chosen. This contact with the veteran preacher was one of the moulding points in the career of the player. Such acts of condescension79 and disinterestedness—or perhaps it is juster to call them acts of love and duty—are charming and are divinely encouraging. There are
[Pg 102]
more of them in the world than we think, though certainly there are far fewer of them than there ought to be. The record of each, while delightful to contemplate80, is a stimulus81 to produce others.
Holley urged Forrest to curb82 his taste for comic and farcical parts and as soon as possible to cease appearing in such characters. He strove to impress on him a deeper sense of his fitness for the highest walks of tragedy, and explained to him most eloquently83 the noble qualities the enactment84 of such parts both required and cultivated in the performer, as well as the valuable lessons they taught to the spectator. He also dwelt at length on the true principle of the dramatic art, which he maintained to be not merely to hold the mirror up to crude nature, but to give a choice and refined presentation of the truth. Nature, he said, is reality, but art is ideality. The actor is not to reflect all the direct and unrelieved facts of nature, but to present a selective and softened85 or intensified86 reflection of them. Art plays the tune87 of nature, he held, but with variations. He uttered these and other thoughts with such remarkable88 grace and precision that Forrest said the conversation made an epoch89 in his mind, although he differed from him in opinion, then and always holding that the purpose of acting90 was to show the exact truth of nature. Holley was right; and it is notable that his youthful auditor71 in rejecting the view he advocated accurately91 marked his own central defect not less than his most conspicuous92 merit as an actor.
Closing their season at Lexington, February 22d, 1823, the company started across the country for Cincinnati, the women with the theatrical paraphernalia93 in covered wagons94, the men on horseback. Their good humor and abundant faculty95 for finding or making enjoyment96 in everything stood them in hand during the journey, which their rude accommodations and the wintry weather would otherwise have made cheerless enough. They opened in Cincinnati, in the old Columbia Street Theatre, on the evening of March 6th, 1823. The play was The Soldier's Daughter. Forrest, who lacked just three days of being seventeen years old, was assigned the humble part of Malfort, a serious walking gentleman. His range of casts during this season was extremely varied, reaching from the heights of dire5 tragedy
[Pg 103]
to the level of ridiculous pantomime. He danced in the then popular ballet of Little Red Riding-Hood. He often sang comic songs between the plays. Eberle, who was a good violinist, on one occasion appeared as an old broken soldier with a wooden leg and a fiddle97, accompanied by Forrest as his daughter in a ragged98 female dress. The father fiddled99, the daughter sang with laughable pathos,—
"Oh, cruel was my parients, as tored my love from me;
And cruel was the great big ship as tooked him off to sea;
And cruel was the capitaine and the boswain and the men,
As didn't care a fardin if we never met agen."
(Tears.)
The performance was encored so warmly that it was repeated many successive nights. He also played Corinthian Tom in the extravaganza of Tom and Jerry, Lubin in the Wandering Boys of Switzerland, and Blaize in the Forest of Bondy, or the Dog of Montargis. In the last character he sang this song:
"Bondy's forest,—full of leaves;
Bondy's forest,—full of thieves;
They hold your bridle100, take your cash,
And then they give your throat a gash101.
Sing la, la, la, la, la."
At this time he had a trained dog, who knew as much as a great many men. He was strongly attached to this dog, who appeared on the stage with him in the Forest of Bondy and acted his part with striking effect. He was a frisky102 and mischievous103 creature. He occupied the same room with Edwin; and one morning he took advantage of the leisure his habits as an early riser gave him to gnaw104 and tear in pieces one of his master's only pair of boots. The poor actor was in a dilemma105. He had no money and no credit. In his wrath106 he thought of whipping the dog. But that would boot nothing. The innocent creature knew no better. So he pretended to have a sore foot, put a bandage on it, borrowed an old slipper107, and hobbled about until his wages fell due and enabled him to buy a pair of shoes.
In contrast with the above-named comic casts, Forrest took the second parts to the Damon, Brutus, and Virginius of the stars
[Pg 104]
Pelby and Pemberton, and at his own benefit played Richard the Third.
Without making a great sensation or achieving any brilliant success, he was decidedly popular. Sol Smith and Moses Dawson, editors of the two Cincinnati newspapers at that time, both praised him highly and prophesied108 his future eminence109. Moses Dawson—a leading Democrat14 of the West, the first to raise the political banner inscribed with the name of Andrew Jackson, and who is said to have died of joy at the triumph of his party in the Presidential election of 1844—wrote the earliest earnest and studious criticisms ever composed on the acting of Forrest. He carefully noted110 all the points and peculiarities111 of the youthful performer, honestly stated his defects and faults, generously signalized his excellences112, and made judicious113 suggestions for his profit. His candid4 and thoughtful words were of great service to the boy, and were never forgotten by the man.
A specimen from one of these articles will be of interest: "Mr. Forrest has a finely-formed and expressive114 countenance115, expressing all the passions with marvellous exactness and power, and he looks the character of Richard much better than could be expected from a person of his years. He assumes a stately majesty116 of demeanor117, passes suddenly to wheedling118 hypocrisy119, and then returns to the haughty120 strut121 of towering ambition, with a facility which sufficiently122 evidence that he has not only deeply studied but also well understood the immortal123 bard124. The scene with Lady Ann appeared to us unique, and superior to everything we have ever seen, not excepting Kemble or Cooke. In the soliloquies he uttered the sentiments as if they had arisen in his mind in that regular succession, and we never once caught his eye wandering towards the audience. Of the tent scene we do not hesitate to say that it was a very superior piece of acting. Horror and despair were never more forcibly represented. We consider Mr. Forrest's natural talents of the highest grade, and we hope his good sense will prevent him from being so intoxicated125 with success as to neglect study and industry. We are willing to render to youthful talent a full meed of praise; but while we applaud, we would caution. Applause should not be received as a reward, but as an incentive126 to still further exertion to deserve it."
During his first engagement in Cincinnati, Forrest boarded
[Pg 105]
with widow Bryson, on Main Street. Almost half a century afterwards, William D. Gallagher sought this excellent woman out, and obtained from her some very interesting reminiscences. It seems that General Harrison, who was subsequently President of the United States, came to Mrs. Bryson one day and asked her to do him the favor to take as a boarder a young man named Edwin Forrest, who was then playing at one of the theatres. The General said he feared, if the youth boarded with the other players, he would form bad habits. He wished to guard him from this, as he considered him a young man of extraordinary ability, and destined127 to excel in his profession. She assented128. She said he was at that time a beautiful boy, with deep and very dark brown eyes, a complexion129 of marble clearness mantling130 with blood, and a graceful, sinewy131 form. He once made her very angry by an insulting remark concerning one of the female boarders, whose conduct did not suit his ideas of propriety. Mrs. Bryson declared that she would not have such language used at her table. He replied that of course he did not apply it to her. But she could not forget, and sent for General Harrison, and related the matter to him. He brought Edwin before her. The youth hung down his head. "Poor fellow!" added the old lady, "it has been a long time since then. Forty-six or seven years. Yet I can plainly see him standing there now!" Eying him sternly, the General said, "Sir, the father of this lady was a Revolutionary soldier; her husband was one of my trusty officers in the late war; and she is a lady whom I highly esteem133. When I introduced you into her family, I did not suppose you would treat her with disrespect; and I now ask you to make her a humble apology." Edwin raised his head and said, "General, I did make a severe remark concerning a particular person whom Mrs. Bryson thinks she knows, but does not. It was an unguarded act. I am very sorry for it, and ask her a thousand pardons. I assure you, madam, I would not, under any circumstances, use words to hurt your feelings." He then turned and made a humble excuse to Harrison, who reprimanded him with severity. It did him good; it was a lesson he never forgot. But Mrs. Bryson confessed that she learned soon after that he was right in what he had said about the woman.
[Pg 106]
One Sunday evening there came up a dreadful thunder-storm. As the thunders crashed and rattled134, the frightened women, with Mrs. Bryson at their head, rushed into Edwin's room. He went to the window, raised it, took his sword and waved it out. When the electric flashes broke, it looked as if the lightnings were dancing on the point of his sword. The women fled out of his room with even greater terror than they had come into it, and he laughed heartily135 to see them scamper136.
Gallagher was present at an interview of Mrs. Bryson and her daughter with Mr. Forrest in 1869, the first time they had met for forty-six years. Although the daughter, Mrs. Kemp, was but a little girl when they parted, he recognized her at the first glance. They spent a long time in unrestrained enjoyment, talking over the events of the old times as if they were things that had occurred but a few days previously137. Mrs. Bryson exclaimed, "Oh, Edwin Forrest, I can scarcely realize it when I look at you and think what a beautiful boy you were when we last met, and now see you such a great, heavy man, and getting into age, too!"
At the end of the winter, Collins and Jones found their enterprise a pecuniary138 failure. They incontinently shut up the theatre and turned the whole company out to shift for themselves as best they could. These poor children of Thespis were in a pitiful plight139. Without money, without employment or prospects140, what could they do? About a dozen of them, including Forrest, Mrs. Riddle, and her two daughters, determined141 to extemporize142 a vagrant143 company, travel into the country, and try their fortune from town to town. Their action was as prompt as their pluck was good and their means small. With a couple of rickety wagons and two dreadfully thin old horses, they started off for Hamilton, most of them on foot. It is interesting to contemplate the little band of strolling players as they thus set out on their adventures. On their journey they scrutinized144 many a passing itinerant145 unlike themselves, laughed and sang in jovial146 liberty, while the birds sang around them by day and the stars twinkled over their heads by night. If there were hardships in it, tough and scanty147 fare, rude conditions, weary trudges148, harsh treatment, wretched patronage, there were also in it rich experiences of life at first hand, a rough relish149, a free existence in the
[Pg 107]
open air, and all the traditional associations linking them to the strollers of other times and lands, wandering minstrels, beggars, apprentices23, gypsies, and those travelling groups of actors who used to perform in the yards of inns or the halls of baronial castles, and a specimen of whom found a so much better than lenten entertainment from the hands of Hamlet at Elsinore.
After performing at Hamilton for eight or ten nights, in the second story of a venerable barn, with more applause than profit, they went to Lebanon. An interesting reminiscence of this time is given by the following fac-simile of a note afterwards redeemed150 by its signer, and found carefully preserved among his papers at his death:
Hamilton August 6th 1823
Due Wm. Cooper or order one
dollar & fifty cents for Value Recd
August 6th 1823—
Edwin Forrest
They met little encouragement at Lebanon, and proceeded to Dayton, where they had still poorer success. In fact, their funds and their hopes gave out together, and they agreed to disperse151. Forrest had not one cent in his pocket. He started on foot for Cincinnati, a distance of about forty miles. Journeying along on the bank of the Big Miami River, he spied a canoe on the other shore. How much easier it would be to float than to walk! He stripped, plunged152, and swam. As soon as he was near enough to see that the boat was chained and locked, the owner of it appeared and pointed153 a gun at him. He made back
[Pg 108]
ward strokes to his clothes, and resumed his plod154. It was evening when he reached Cincinnati, pretty well fagged out. Some of his acquaintances met him in the street, said an amateur club were that night to play the farce of Miss in her Teens across the river at Newport, that one of the fellows was drunk, and asked him if he would fill the vacancy155. He consented to do it for five dollars. They agreed to give that price, and he went and did it. The excessive fatigue156 probably made it the hardest-earned, as it was the sorest-needed, five dollars he ever received. It nearly exhausted157 the proceeds of the performance.
In a short time the scattered158 strollers rejoined their forces at Louisville to try one more experiment. They succeeded moderately well. But Archibald Woodruff, keeper of the Globe Inn in Cincinnati, had fitted up a hasty and cheap structure adjoining his tavern159, and christened it the Globe Theatre. He invited the Louisville company to come and open it. They did so on the evening of June 2d, 1823, with Douglas, Forrest as Norval. June 4th they gave the play of The Iron Chest, Forrest as Sir Edward Mortimer, Mrs. Riddle as Lady Helen. On subsequent nights he sustained among other characters those of George Barnwell, Octavian in The Mountaineers, Jaffier in Venice Preserved, and Richard the Third, besides several parts in low comedy.
But perhaps the most surprising fact connected with this portion of his career is that he was the first actor who ever represented on the stage the Southern plantation160 negro with all his peculiarities of dress, gait, accent, dialect, and manners. This he did ten years before T. D. Rice, usually denominated the originator of the Ethiopian drama, made his début at the Bowery in the character of Jim Crow. Rice deserves his fame, for, though preceded first by Forrest, and then in a more systematic161 fashion by George W. Dixon, he was the man who really popularized the burnt-cork and burlesque162 minstrelsy and made it the institution it became.
The fortunes of the Globe were in such a state that the establishment was on the point of breaking up, when Sol Smith hired it for one night. He brought out three pieces, the comedy of Modern Fashions, a farce entitled The Tailor in Distress163, and the pantomime of Don Quixote. He agreed to pay each performer
[Pg 109]
two dollars. For this sum Forrest acted a dandy in the first play, a negro in the second, and Sancho Panza in the third. The Tailor in Distress was a light affair, composed by Sol Smith, turning on local matters well known and very ludicrous. The part of Ruban, the negro, assigned to Forrest, was full of songs, dances, and fun. He was a servant, and his wife, who had nothing to say, was to appear with him as a help to set off his performance. He blacked himself up and rigged his costume quite to his content, when it occurred to his thought that no one had been got for the part of his black wife. He applied164 to the women of the theatre, but not one of them was willing to black herself for the occasion. He recollected165 his old African washerwoman, who lived in a shanty166 close by. He hurried thither167 and knocked and went in. Dinah cried, "Wha, bress me! who am dis? Gosh-a-massy, who be you? Whose chile am you?" He answered, in a negro voice, "Wha, Dinah, duzzent you know Sambo?" "What Sambo?" she answered. "No, I duzzent know nothin' about you. Who is you?" "Heaw! heaw! You duzzent know me! Now, don't you petend you am ign'rant ob dis chile." "Well, I say I be, and want to know who you am!" Time was pressing, and he said, in simple earnest, "Dinah, I am Mr. Forrest, from the theatre. I am all blacked and dressed to play the part of a negro, and I must have a black wife to go on the stage with me. I want you to do it." The astonished and incredulous washerwoman responded, "De debbil you does!" Sharply examining her visitor, she recognized him. "Reely, now, it be de fac'. You am Mass' Forrest. But what a funny nigger you am! You nigger all ober!" "Yes, Dinah, but hurry along, or we shall be late." "Well, I duzzent care; I goes along wid you anyhow." So they hastened arm-in-arm to the theatre, and got there just in time. The appearance of the darkies was greeted with loud applause, and when Ruban began to let out the regular cuffy, as he always could in the most irresistible168 way, with wide and suddenly breaking inflections of voice, breathing guffaw169, and convulsive double-shuffle, the enthusiasm of the audience reached the highest pitch. The play was repeated several nights to crowds.
The Distressed170 Tailor referred to a well-known representative of that profession, named Platt Evans, who was a very curious and original character. He was interviewed by Mr. Gallagher
[Pg 110]
in 1869, who found him a hale, active man of over eighty, and still fond of his joke. Old Platt said, "The farce was a da-da-da-dam good thing; on-on-only the character of me wa-was not true, as he stu-stu-stu-stuttered, and I do-don't stu-stu-stutter!" He said he made a suit of clothes for Forrest in 1823, and that once when he was in the store a fellow accused him of being stuffed. Forrest took off his coat and vest, and, striking his breast, exclaimed, "No, there is no padding here. It is all honest, and I mean it always shall be!"
It was now the end of July. The theatre was shut, the actors adrift and penniless. It was a hard time for them. Mrs. Riddle and her two daughters lived for awhile in Newport in a little dilapidated cottage, and Forrest spent part of his time with them. Invited to a party on one occasion, he was in want of a clean shirt and collar. Mrs. Riddle took a collar and a handkerchief of her own, washed and ironed them, pinned the collar on, tied a piece of ribbon around his neck, fastened the handkerchief over the bosom46 of his dingy171 shirt, and sent him smilingly off to the festivity, where his disguise was probably little suspected. Young, full of healthy blood, with a fiery172 imagination, it took but little to make him happy in those days. And yet, poor, ill clad, unemployed173, with only a few chance friends, at a distance from mother and home, it took but little to make him very unhappy.
For several weeks he obtained almost his sole food from the corn-fields of General Taylor across the river in Newport. He used to break off an armful of ears, take them to his old negro washerwoman, and get her to boil them for him. Sometimes he made a fire under some stones out in the field, roasted the corn and ate it without salt. It was a Spartan174 dinner; but, fortunately, he had a Spartan appetite.
During this period he one day rowed over the river to Covington and climbed a sightly eminence there wooded with a growth of oaks. He sat down under a huge tree, pulled from his pocket his well-worn copy of Shakspeare, and began to read. He had on a somewhat ragged coat and a dilapidated pair of stage-boots whose gilding175 contrasted with the rusty132 remainder of his costume. He was no little depressed that day with loneliness and thinking of his destitute176 condition and precarious177 outlook. He fell upon this passage in King Henry IV.:
[Pg 111]
"O God! that one might read the book of Fate,
And see the revolution of the times
Make mountains level, and the continent,
Weary of solid firmness, melt itself
Into the sea! and, other times, to see
The beachy girdle of the ocean
Too wide for Neptune's hips74; how chances mock,
And changes fill the cup of alteration178
With divers179 liquors! O, if this were seen,
The happiest youth—viewing his progress through,
What perils180 past, what crosses to ensue—
Would shut the book, and sit him down and die."
Edwin felt melancholy181 enough as he laid the volume on his knee, and his head sank on his bosom in painful musing182. After a long time, breaking from his reverie, he looked up. There stood, erect183 before him, a stout184 grape-vine. Apparently185 its tendrils had been torn from the oak by whose side it grew, and finding itself cast off, alone, deprived of its sustaining protection, it had rallied upon its own roots, spread and deepened them, and now held itself bravely up in solitary186 independence, as if it were not a vine but a tree. The moral lesson electrified187 him. He took new heart, with the feeling that it would be shameful188 for him to succumb189 when even a poor plant could thus conquer. Twenty years afterwards, with a grateful memory of the incident, he bought that whole woodland region, of some sixty acres, and named it Forrest Hill. He owned it at the day of his death.
After another brief trial of the theatre at Lexington, late in the autumn, Collins and Jones grew discouraged, gave up their business, and released Forrest from his contract with them. James H. Caldwell, an extremely good light comedian190, and for many years proprietor17 and manager of the theatre in New Orleans, wrote to him opportunely191, offering him an engagement for the ensuing season at a salary of eighteen dollars a week. It is said that Caldwell was led to make this proposition from his remembrance of having once seen the youth make an original point of great power in the part of Richard the Third. It was in the tent scene. All previous actors had been wont to awake from the dream in a state of extreme affright, and either sit on the side of the couch or stand near it. Forrest sprang from his reclining posture192, rushed forward to the foot-lights, and there fell upon his knees, with his whole frame trembling, his face blanched193 with
[Pg 112]
terror, his sword grasped by the hilt in one hand and with the point in the floor, the sword itself so shaking that it could be heard all over the house. The intense realism with which this was done made it sensational194 in an extraordinary degree.
When Forrest had accepted the proposal from Caldwell, the thought of the long, long journey and the time that must elapse before he should see his mother again gave him a homesick feeling. He shrank from his engagement. Learning that his acquaintance Sol Smith was then in Lexington collecting a troupe195 to play in Cincinnati, he called on him and urgently begged to be employed. He said he had rather serve under him for ten dollars a week than under a stranger for eighteen. He was steadily refused. He went over to a circus which then chanced to be there, and hired himself out for a year. Smith says he heard of this with great mortification196, and immediately called at the circus. There, he adds, sure enough, was Ned in all his glory, surrounded by riders, tumblers, and grooms197. He was slightly abashed198 at first, but, putting a good face on the affair, said, as he had been refused an engagement at ten dollars a week by his old friend, he had agreed with these boys for twelve. To convince Smith of his ability to sustain his new line of business, he turned a couple of flip-flaps on the spot. Smith took Edwin to his lodgings199, and by dint200 of argument and persuasion201 succeeding in getting him to abandon the profession of clown and fulfil his promise to Caldwell.
He accordingly went to Louisville and took passage on a steamboat down the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers to New Orleans. On the trip he made the acquaintance of Winfield Scott and of John Howard Payne. The celebrated general and the gifted author of Sweet Home seem both to have been strongly attracted to the young actor. They held many long conversations with him, and brought out, from their ample stores of experience in the field and on the boards, anecdotes202, principles, criticism, and advice, which were not only highly entertaining to him at the time but lastingly203 instructive and useful. He always accounted his meeting with these two men as a particular piece of good fortune. It betokens204 that he was at that period of his life an ingenuous58 and docile spirit, however impulsive and wild still attracting the sympathy and appropriating from the experience of his elders.
点击收听单词发音
1 ward | |
n.守卫,监护,病房,行政区,由监护人或法院保护的人(尤指儿童);vt.守护,躲开 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 impulsive | |
adj.冲动的,刺激的;有推动力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 exertion | |
n.尽力,努力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 candid | |
adj.公正的,正直的;坦率的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 dire | |
adj.可怕的,悲惨的,阴惨的,极端的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 mimic | |
v.模仿,戏弄;n.模仿他人言行的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 posturing | |
做出某种姿势( posture的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 specimen | |
n.样本,标本 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 manly | |
adj.有男子气概的;adv.男子般地,果断地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 steadily | |
adv.稳定地;不变地;持续地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 impudent | |
adj.鲁莽的,卑鄙的,厚颜无耻的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 sincerity | |
n.真诚,诚意;真实 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 democrat | |
n.民主主义者,民主人士;民主党党员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 parental | |
adj.父母的;父的;母的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 proprietors | |
n.所有人,业主( proprietor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 proprietor | |
n.所有人;业主;经营者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 depressed | |
adj.沮丧的,抑郁的,不景气的,萧条的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 precocious | |
adj.早熟的;较早显出的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 humble | |
adj.谦卑的,恭顺的;地位低下的;v.降低,贬低 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 docile | |
adj.驯服的,易控制的,容易教的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 apprentices | |
学徒,徒弟( apprentice的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 apprenticeship | |
n.学徒身份;学徒期 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 unwilling | |
adj.不情愿的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 propriety | |
n.正当行为;正当;适当 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 influential | |
adj.有影响的,有权势的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 mythological | |
adj.神话的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 niches | |
壁龛( niche的名词复数 ); 合适的位置[工作等]; (产品的)商机; 生态位(一个生物所占据的生境的最小单位) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 inscribed | |
v.写,刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 );内接 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 wont | |
adj.习惯于;v.习惯;n.习惯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 thespian | |
adj.戏曲的;n.演员;悲剧演员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 graceful | |
adj.优美的,优雅的;得体的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 mien | |
n.风采;态度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 mythology | |
n.神话,神话学,神话集 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 muse | |
n.缪斯(希腊神话中的女神),创作灵感 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 dagger | |
n.匕首,短剑,剑号 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 benedictions | |
n.祝福( benediction的名词复数 );(礼拜结束时的)赐福祈祷;恩赐;(大写)(罗马天主教)祈求上帝赐福的仪式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 throbbing | |
a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 aspiration | |
n.志向,志趣抱负;渴望;(语)送气音;吸出 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 prospect | |
n.前景,前途;景色,视野 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 thespians | |
n.演员( thespian的名词复数 );悲剧演员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 benefactors | |
n.捐助者,施主( benefactor的名词复数 );恩人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 cuff | |
n.袖口;手铐;护腕;vt.用手铐铐;上袖口 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 bosom | |
n.胸,胸部;胸怀;内心;adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 bosoms | |
胸部( bosom的名词复数 ); 胸怀; 女衣胸部(或胸襟); 和爱护自己的人在一起的情形 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 pastor | |
n.牧师,牧人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 fortitude | |
n.坚忍不拔;刚毅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 scant | |
adj.不充分的,不足的;v.减缩,限制,忽略 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 trifling | |
adj.微不足道的;没什么价值的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 mutual | |
adj.相互的,彼此的;共同的,共有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 bestows | |
赠给,授予( bestow的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 riddle | |
n.谜,谜语,粗筛;vt.解谜,给…出谜,筛,检查,鉴定,非难,充满于;vi.出谜 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 varied | |
adj.多样的,多变化的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 accomplishments | |
n.造诣;完成( accomplishment的名词复数 );技能;成绩;成就 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 ingenuous | |
adj.纯朴的,单纯的;天真的;坦率的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 ingenuousness | |
n.率直;正直;老实 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 farce | |
n.闹剧,笑剧,滑稽戏;胡闹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 appalled | |
v.使惊骇,使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的;丧胆的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 qualms | |
n.不安;内疚 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 callous | |
adj.无情的,冷淡的,硬结的,起老茧的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 formerly | |
adv.从前,以前 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 walnut | |
n.胡桃,胡桃木,胡桃色,茶色 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 delightful | |
adj.令人高兴的,使人快乐的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 ripples | |
逐渐扩散的感觉( ripple的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 thronged | |
v.成群,挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 patronage | |
n.赞助,支援,援助;光顾,捧场 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 uncommonly | |
adv. 稀罕(极,非常) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 auditor | |
n.审计员,旁听着 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 presidency | |
n.总统(校长,总经理)的职位(任期) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 celebrated | |
adj.有名的,声誉卓著的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 hips | |
abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯,耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 );[建筑学]屋脊;臀围(尺寸);臀部…的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 acceded | |
v.(正式)加入( accede的过去式和过去分词 );答应;(通过财产的添附而)增加;开始任职 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 theatrical | |
adj.剧场的,演戏的;做戏似的,做作的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 oratorical | |
adj.演说的,雄辩的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 aspirations | |
强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 ); 志向; 发送气音; 发 h 音 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 condescension | |
n.自以为高人一等,贬低(别人) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 contemplate | |
vt.盘算,计议;周密考虑;注视,凝视 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 stimulus | |
n.刺激,刺激物,促进因素,引起兴奋的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 curb | |
n.场外证券市场,场外交易;vt.制止,抑制 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 eloquently | |
adv. 雄辩地(有口才地, 富于表情地) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 enactment | |
n.演出,担任…角色;制订,通过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 softened | |
(使)变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 ); 缓解打击; 缓和; 安慰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 intensified | |
v.(使)增强, (使)加剧( intensify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 tune | |
n.调子;和谐,协调;v.调音,调节,调整 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 remarkable | |
adj.显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 epoch | |
n.(新)时代;历元 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 acting | |
n.演戏,行为,假装;adj.代理的,临时的,演出用的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 accurately | |
adv.准确地,精确地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 conspicuous | |
adj.明眼的,惹人注目的;炫耀的,摆阔气的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 paraphernalia | |
n.装备;随身用品 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 wagons | |
n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 );铁路货车;小手推车 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 faculty | |
n.才能;学院,系;(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 enjoyment | |
n.乐趣;享有;享用 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 fiddle | |
n.小提琴;vi.拉提琴;不停拨弄,乱动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 ragged | |
adj.衣衫褴褛的,粗糙的,刺耳的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 fiddled | |
v.伪造( fiddle的过去式和过去分词 );篡改;骗取;修理或稍作改动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 bridle | |
n.笼头,束缚;vt.抑制,约束;动怒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 gash | |
v.深切,划开;n.(深长的)切(伤)口;裂缝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 frisky | |
adj.活泼的,欢闹的;n.活泼,闹着玩;adv.活泼地,闹着玩地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 mischievous | |
adj.调皮的,恶作剧的,有害的,伤人的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 gnaw | |
v.不断地啃、咬;使苦恼,折磨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 dilemma | |
n.困境,进退两难的局面 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 wrath | |
n.愤怒,愤慨,暴怒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 slipper | |
n.拖鞋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 prophesied | |
v.预告,预言( prophesy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 eminence | |
n.卓越,显赫;高地,高处;名家 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 noted | |
adj.著名的,知名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 peculiarities | |
n. 特质, 特性, 怪癖, 古怪 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 excellences | |
n.卓越( excellence的名词复数 );(只用于所修饰的名词后)杰出的;卓越的;出类拔萃的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 judicious | |
adj.明智的,明断的,能作出明智决定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 expressive | |
adj.表现的,表达…的,富于表情的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 countenance | |
n.脸色,面容;面部表情;vt.支持,赞同 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 majesty | |
n.雄伟,壮丽,庄严,威严;最高权威,王权 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 demeanor | |
n.行为;风度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 wheedling | |
v.骗取(某物),哄骗(某人干某事)( wheedle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 hypocrisy | |
n.伪善,虚伪 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 haughty | |
adj.傲慢的,高傲的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 strut | |
v.肿胀,鼓起;大摇大摆地走;炫耀;支撑;撑开;n.高视阔步;支柱,撑杆 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 sufficiently | |
adv.足够地,充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 immortal | |
adj.不朽的;永生的,不死的;神的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 bard | |
n.吟游诗人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 intoxicated | |
喝醉的,极其兴奋的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 incentive | |
n.刺激;动力;鼓励;诱因;动机 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 destined | |
adj.命中注定的;(for)以…为目的地的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 assented | |
同意,赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 complexion | |
n.肤色;情况,局面;气质,性格 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 mantling | |
覆巾 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 sinewy | |
adj.多腱的,强壮有力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 rusty | |
adj.生锈的;锈色的;荒废了的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 esteem | |
n.尊敬,尊重;vt.尊重,敬重;把…看作 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 rattled | |
慌乱的,恼火的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 heartily | |
adv.衷心地,诚恳地,十分,很 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 scamper | |
v.奔跑,快跑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 previously | |
adv.以前,先前(地) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 pecuniary | |
adj.金钱的;金钱上的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139 plight | |
n.困境,境况,誓约,艰难;vt.宣誓,保证,约定 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 prospects | |
n.希望,前途(恒为复数) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 extemporize | |
v.即席演说,即兴演奏,当场作成 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 vagrant | |
n.流浪者,游民;adj.流浪的,漂泊不定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 scrutinized | |
v.仔细检查,详审( scrutinize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 itinerant | |
adj.巡回的;流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 jovial | |
adj.快乐的,好交际的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
147 scanty | |
adj.缺乏的,仅有的,节省的,狭小的,不够的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
148 trudges | |
n.跋涉,长途疲劳的步行( trudge的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
149 relish | |
n.滋味,享受,爱好,调味品;vt.加调味料,享受,品味;vi.有滋味 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
150 redeemed | |
adj. 可赎回的,可救赎的 动词redeem的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
151 disperse | |
vi.使分散;使消失;vt.分散;驱散 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
152 plunged | |
v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
153 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
154 plod | |
v.沉重缓慢地走,孜孜地工作 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
155 vacancy | |
n.(旅馆的)空位,空房,(职务的)空缺 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
156 fatigue | |
n.疲劳,劳累 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
157 exhausted | |
adj.极其疲惫的,精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
158 scattered | |
adj.分散的,稀疏的;散步的;疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
159 tavern | |
n.小旅馆,客栈;小酒店 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
160 plantation | |
n.种植园,大农场 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
161 systematic | |
adj.有系统的,有计划的,有方法的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
162 burlesque | |
v.嘲弄,戏仿;n.嘲弄,取笑,滑稽模仿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
163 distress | |
n.苦恼,痛苦,不舒适;不幸;vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
164 applied | |
adj.应用的;v.应用,适用 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
165 recollected | |
adj.冷静的;镇定的;被回忆起的;沉思默想的v.记起,想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
166 shanty | |
n.小屋,棚屋;船工号子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
167 thither | |
adv.向那里;adj.在那边的,对岸的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
168 irresistible | |
adj.非常诱人的,无法拒绝的,无法抗拒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
169 guffaw | |
n.哄笑;突然的大笑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
170 distressed | |
痛苦的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
171 dingy | |
adj.昏暗的,肮脏的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
172 fiery | |
adj.燃烧着的,火红的;暴躁的;激烈的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
173 unemployed | |
adj.失业的,没有工作的;未动用的,闲置的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
174 spartan | |
adj.简朴的,刻苦的;n.斯巴达;斯巴达式的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
175 gilding | |
n.贴金箔,镀金 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
176 destitute | |
adj.缺乏的;穷困的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
177 precarious | |
adj.不安定的,靠不住的;根据不足的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
178 alteration | |
n.变更,改变;蚀变 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
179 divers | |
adj.不同的;种种的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
180 perils | |
极大危险( peril的名词复数 ); 危险的事(或环境) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
181 melancholy | |
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
182 musing | |
n. 沉思,冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
183 erect | |
n./v.树立,建立,使竖立;adj.直立的,垂直的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
185 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
186 solitary | |
adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
187 electrified | |
v.使电气化( electrify的过去式和过去分词 );使兴奋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
188 shameful | |
adj.可耻的,不道德的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
189 succumb | |
v.屈服,屈从;死 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
190 comedian | |
n.喜剧演员;滑稽演员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
191 opportunely | |
adv.恰好地,适时地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
192 posture | |
n.姿势,姿态,心态,态度;v.作出某种姿势 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
193 blanched | |
v.使变白( blanch的过去式 );使(植物)不见阳光而变白;酸洗(金属)使有光泽;用沸水烫(杏仁等)以便去皮 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
194 sensational | |
adj.使人感动的,非常好的,轰动的,耸人听闻的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
195 troupe | |
n.剧团,戏班;杂技团;马戏团 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
196 mortification | |
n.耻辱,屈辱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
197 grooms | |
n.新郎( groom的名词复数 );马夫v.照料或梳洗(马等)( groom的第三人称单数 );使做好准备;训练;(给动物)擦洗 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
198 abashed | |
adj.窘迫的,尴尬的v.使羞愧,使局促,使窘迫( abash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
199 lodgings | |
n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
200 dint | |
n.由于,靠;凹坑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
201 persuasion | |
n.劝说;说服;持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
202 anecdotes | |
n.掌故,趣闻,轶事( anecdote的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
203 lastingly | |
[医]有残留性,持久地,耐久地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
204 betokens | |
v.预示,表示( betoken的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |