While we were rounding up a bunch of the Triangle-O cattle in the Frio bottoms a projecting branch of a dead mesquite caught my wooden stirrup and gave my ankle a wrench2 that laid me up in camp for a week.
On the third day of my compulsory3 idleness I crawled out near the grub wagon4, and reclined helpless under the conversational5 fire of Judson Odom, the camp cook. Jud was a monologist6 by nature, whom Destiny, with customary blundering, had set in a profession wherein he was bereaved8, for the greater portion of his time, of an audience.
Therefore, I was manna in the desert of Jud's obmutescence.
Betimes I was stirred by invalid9 longings10 for something to eat that did not come under the caption11 of "grub." I had visions of the maternal12 pantry "deep as first love, and wild with all regret," and then I asked:
"Jud, can you make pancakes?"
Jud laid down his six-shooter, with which he was preparing to pound an antelope13 steak, and stood over me in what I felt to be a menacing attitude. He further endorsed14 my impression that his pose was resentful by fixing upon me with his light blue eyes a look of cold suspicion.
"Say, you," he said, with candid15, though not excessive, choler, "did you mean that straight, or was you trying to throw the gaff into me? Some of the boys been telling you about me and that pancake racket?"
"No, Jud," I said, sincerely, "I meant it. It seems to me I'd swap16 my pony17 and saddle for a stack of buttered brown pancakes with some first crop, open kettle, New Orleans sweetening. Was there a story about pancakes?"
Jud was mollified at once when he saw that I had not been dealing18 in allusions19. He brought some mysterious bags and tin boxes from the grub wagon and set them in the shade of the hackberry where I lay reclined. I watched him as he began to arrange them leisurely20 and untie21 their many strings22.
"No, not a story," said Jud, as he worked, "but just the logical disclosures in the case of me and that pink-eyed snoozer from Mired23 Mule24 Canada and Miss Willella Learight. I don't mind telling you.
"I was punching then for old Bill Toomey, on the San Miguel. One day I gets all ensnared up in aspirations25 for to eat some canned grub that hasn't ever mooed or baaed or grunted26 or been in peck measures. So, I gets on my bronc and pushes the wind for Uncle Emsley Telfair's store at the Pimienta Crossing on the Nueces.
"About three in the afternoon I throwed my bridle27 rein7 over a mesquite limb and walked the last twenty yards into Uncle Emsley's store. I got up on the counter and told Uncle Emsley that the signs pointed28 to the devastation29 of the fruit crop of the world. In a minute I had a bag of crackers30 and a long-handled spoon, with an open can each of apricots and pineapples and cherries and greengages beside of me with Uncle Emsley busy chopping away with the hatchet32 at the yellow clings. I was feeling like Adam before the apple stampede, and was digging my spurs into the side of the counter and working with my twenty-four-inch spoon when I happened to look out of the window into the yard of Uncle Emsley's house, which was next to the store.
"There was a girl standing33 there--an imported girl with fixings on-- philandering34 with a croquet maul and amusing herself by watching my style of encouraging the fruit canning industry.
"I slid off the counter and delivered up my shovel35 to Uncle Emsley.
"'That's my niece,' says he; 'Miss Willella Learight, down from Palestine on a visit. Do you want that I should make you acquainted?'
"'The Holy Land,' I says to myself, my thoughts milling some as I tried to run 'em into the corral. 'Why not? There was sure angels in Pales--Why, yes, Uncle Emsley,' I says out loud, 'I'd be awful edified36 to meet Miss Learight.'
"So Uncle Emsley took me out in the yard and gave us each other's entitlements.
"I never was shy about women. I never could understand why some men who can break a mustang before breakfast and shave in the dark, get all left-handed and full of perspiration37 and excuses when they see a bold of calico draped around what belongs to it. Inside of eight minutes me and Miss Willella was aggravating38 the croquet balls around as amiable39 as second cousins. She gave me a dig about the quantity of canned fruit I had eaten, and I got back at her, flat-footed, about how a certain lady named Eve started the fruit trouble in the first free-grass pasture--'Over in Palestine, wasn't it?' says I, as easy and pat as roping a one-year-old.
"That was how I acquired cordiality for the proximities of Miss Willella Learight; and the disposition40 grew larger as time passed. She was stopping at Pimienta Crossing for her health, which was very good, and for the climate, which was forty per cent. hotter than Palestine. I rode over to see her once every week for a while; and then I figured it out that if I doubled the number of trips I would see her twice as often.
"One week I slipped in a third trip; and that's where the pancakes and the pink-eyed snoozer busted41 into the game.
"That evening, while I set on the counter with a peach and two damsons in my mouth, I asked Uncle Emsley how Miss Willella was.
"'Why,' says Uncle Emsley, 'she's gone riding with Jackson Bird, the sheep man from over at Mired Mule Canada.'
"I swallowed the peach seed and the two damson seeds. I guess somebody held the counter by the bridle while I got off; and then I walked out straight ahead till I butted43 against the mesquite where my roan was tied.
"'She's gone riding,' I whisper in my bronc's ear, 'with Birdstone Jack42, the hired mule from Sheep Man's Canada. Did you get that, old Leather-and-Gallops?'
"That bronc of mine wept, in his way. He'd been raised a cow pony and he didn't care for snoozers.
"I went back and said to Uncle Emsley: 'Did you say a sheep man?'
"'I said a sheep man,' says Uncle Emsley again. 'You must have heard tell of Jackson Bird. He's got eight sections of grazing and four thousand head of the finest Merinos south of the Arctic Circle.'
"I went out and sat on the ground in the shade of the store and leaned against a prickly pear. I sifted45 sand into my boots with unthinking hands while I soliloquised a quantity about this bird with the Jackson plumage to his name.
"I never had believed in harming sheep men. I see one, one day, reading a Latin grammar on hossback, and I never touched him! They never irritated me like they do most cowmen. You wouldn't go to work now, and impair46 and disfigure snoozers, would you, that eat on tables and wear little shoes and speak to you on subjects? I had always let 'em pass, just as you would a jack-rabbit; with a polite word and a guess about the weather, but no stopping to swap canteens. I never thought it was worth while to be hostile with a snoozer. And because I'd been lenient47, and let 'em live, here was one going around riding with Miss Willella Learight!
"An hour by sun they come loping back, and stopped at Uncle Emsley's gate. The sheep person helped her off; and they stood throwing each other sentences all sprightful and sagacious for a while. And then this feathered Jackson flies up in his saddle and raises his little stewpot of a hat, and trots48 off in the direction of his mutton ranch1. By this time I had turned the sand out of my boots and unpinned myself from the prickly pear; and by the time he gets half a mile out of Pimienta, I singlefoots up beside him on my bronc.
"I said that snoozer was pink-eyed, but he wasn't. His seeing arrangement was grey enough, but his eye-lashes was pink and his hair was sandy, and that gave you the idea. Sheep man?--he wasn't more than a lamb man, anyhow--a little thing with his neck involved in a yellow silk handkerchief, and shoes tied up in bowknots.
"'Afternoon!' says I to him. 'You now ride with a equestrian49 who is commonly called Dead-Moral-Certainty Judson, on account of the way I shoot. When I want a stranger to know me I always introduce myself before the draw, for I never did like to shake hands with ghosts.'
"'Ah,' says he, just like that--'Ah, I'm glad to know you, Mr. Judson. I'm Jackson Bird, from over at Mired Mule Ranch.'
"Just then one of my eyes saw a roadrunner skipping down the hill with a young tarantula in his bill, and the other eye noticed a rabbit-hawk sitting on a dead limb in a water-elm. I popped over one after the other with my forty-five, just to show him. 'Two out of three,' says I. 'Birds just naturally seem to draw my fire wherever I go.'
"'Nice shooting,' says the sheep man, without a flutter. 'But don't you sometimes ever miss the third shot? Elegant fine rain that was last week for the young grass, Mr. Judson?' says he.
"'Willie,' says I, riding over close to his palfrey, 'your infatuated parents may have denounced you by the name of Jackson, but you sure moulted into a twittering Willie--let us slough50 off this here analysis of rain and the elements, and get down to talk that is outside the vocabulary of parrots. That is a bad habit you have got of riding with young ladies over at Pimienta. I've known birds,' says I, 'to be served on toast for less than that. Miss Willella,' says I, 'don't ever want any nest made out of sheep's wool by a tomtit of the Jacksonian branch of ornithology51. Now, are you going to quit, or do you wish for to gallop44 up against this Dead-Moral-Certainty attachment52 to my name, which is good for two hyphens and at least one set of funeral obsequies?'
"Jackson Bird flushed up some, and then he laughed.
"'Why, Mr. Judson,' says he, 'you've got the wrong idea. I've called on Miss Learight a few times; but not for the purpose you imagine. My object is purely53 a gastronomical54 one.'
"I reached for my gun.
"'Any coyote,' says I, 'that would boast of dishonourable--'
"'Wait a minute,' says this Bird, 'till I explain. What would I do with a wife? If you ever saw that ranch of mine! I do my own cooking and mending. Eating--that's all the pleasure I get out of sheep raising. Mr. Judson, did you ever taste the pancakes that Miss Learight makes?'
"'Me? No,' I told him. 'I never was advised that she was up to any culinary manoeuvres.'
"'They're golden sunshine,' says he, 'honey-browned by the ambrosial55 fires of Epicurus. I'd give two years of my life to get the recipe for making them pancakes. That's what I went to see Miss Learight for,' says Jackson Bird, 'but I haven't been able to get it from her. It's an old recipe that's been in the family for seventy-five years. They hand it down from one generation to another, but they don't give it away to outsiders. If I could get that recipe, so I could make them pancakes for myself on my ranch, I'd be a happy man,' says Bird.
"'Are you sure,' I says to him, 'that it ain't the hand that mixes the pancakes that you're after?'
"'Sure,' says Jackson. 'Miss Learight is a mighty56 nice girl, but I can assure you my intentions go no further than the gastro--' but he seen my hand going down to my holster and he changed his similitude--'than the desire to procure57 a copy of the pancake recipe,' he finishes.
"'You ain't such a bad little man,' says I, trying to be fair. 'I was thinking some of making orphans58 of your sheep, but I'll let you fly away this time. But you stick to pancakes,' says I, 'as close as the middle one of a stack; and don't go and mistake sentiments for syrup59, or there'll be singing at your ranch, and you won't hear it.'
"'To convince you that I am sincere,' says the sheep man, 'I'll ask you to help me. Miss Learight and you being closer friends, maybe she would do for you what she wouldn't for me. If you will get me a copy of that pancake recipe, I give you my word that I'll never call upon her again.'
"'That's fair,' I says, and I shook hands with Jackson Bird. 'I'll get it for you if I can, and glad to oblige.' And he turned off down the big pear flat on the Piedra, in the direction of Mired Mule; and I steered61 northwest for old Bill Toomey's ranch.
"It was five days afterward62 when I got another chance to ride over to Pimienta. Miss Willella and me passed a gratifying evening at Uncle Emsley's. She sang some, and exasperated63 the piano quite a lot with quotations64 from the operas. I gave imitations of a rattlesnake, and told her about Snaky McFee's new way of skinning cows, and described the trip I made to Saint Louis once. We was getting along in one another's estimations fine. Thinks I, if Jackson Bird can now be persuaded to migrate, I win. I recollect65 his promise about the pancake receipt, and I thinks I will persuade it from Miss Willella and give it to him; and then if I catches Birdie off of Mired Mule again, I'll make him hop31 the twig66.
"So, along about ten o'clock, I put on a wheedling67 smile and says to Miss Willella: 'Now, if there's anything I do like better than the sight of a red steer60 on green grass it's the taste of a nice hot pancake smothered68 in sugar-house molasses.'
"Miss Willella gives a little jump on the piano stool, and looked at me curious.
"'Yes,' says she, 'they're real nice. What did you say was the name of that street in Saint Louis, Mr. Odom, where you lost your hat?'
"'Pancake Avenue,' says I, with a wink69, to show her that I was on about the family receipt, and couldn't be side-corralled off of the subject. 'Come, now, Miss Willella,' I says; 'let's hear how you make 'em. Pancakes is just whirling in my head like wagon wheels. Start her off, now--pound of flour, eight dozen eggs, and so on. How does the catalogue of constituents70 run?'
"'Excuse me for a moment, please,' says Miss Willella, and she gives me a quick kind of sideways look, and slides off the stool. She ambled71 out into the other room, and directly Uncle Emsley comes in in his shirt sleeves, with a pitcher72 of water. He turns around to get a glass on the table, and I see a forty-five in his hip73 pocket. 'Great post- holes!' thinks I, 'but here's a family thinks a heap of cooking receipts, protecting it with firearms. I've known outfits74 that wouldn't do that much by a family feud75.'
"'Drink this here down,' says Uncle Emsley, handing me the glass of water. 'You've rid too far to-day, Jud, and got yourself over-excited. Try to think about something else now.'
"'Do you know how to make them pancakes, Uncle Emsley?' I asked.
"'Well, I'm not as apprised76 in the anatomy77 of them as some,' says Uncle Emsley, 'but I reckon you take a sifter78 of plaster of Paris and a little dough79 and saleratus and corn meal, and mix 'em with eggs and buttermilk as usual. Is old Bill going to ship beeves to Kansas City again this spring, Jud?'
"That was all the pancake specifications80 I could get that night. I didn't wonder that Jackson Bird found it uphill work. So I dropped the subject and talked with Uncle Emsley for a while about hollow-horn and cyclones81. And then Miss Willella came and said 'Good-night,' and I hit the breeze for the ranch.
"About a week afterward I met Jackson Bird riding out of Pimienta as I rode in, and we stopped on the road for a few frivolous82 remarks.
"'Got the bill of particulars for them flapjacks yet?' I asked him.
"'Well, no,' says Jackson. 'I don't seem to have any success in getting hold of it. Did you try?'
"'I did,' says I, 'and 'twas like trying to dig a prairie dog out of his hole with a peanut hull83. That pancake receipt must be a jookalorum, the way they hold on to it.'
"'I'm most ready to give it up,' says Jackson, so discouraged in his pronunciations that I felt sorry for him; 'but I did want to know how to make them pancakes to eat on my lonely ranch,' says he. 'I lie awake at nights thinking how good they are.'
"'You keep on trying for it,' I tells him, 'and I'll do the same. One of us is bound to get a rope over its horns before long. Well, so- long, Jacksy.'
"You see, by this time we were on the peacefullest of terms. When I saw that he wasn't after Miss Willella, I had more endurable contemplations of that sandy-haired snoozer. In order to help out the ambitions of his appetite I kept on trying to get that receipt from Miss Willella. But every time I would say 'pancakes' she would get sort of remote and fidgety about the eye, and try to change the subject. If I held her to it she would slide out and round up Uncle Emsley with his pitcher of water and hip-pocket howitzer.
"One day I galloped84 over to the store with a fine bunch of blue verbenas that I cut out of a herd85 of wild flowers over on Poisoned Dog Prairie. Uncle Emsley looked at 'em with one eye shut and says:
"'Haven't ye heard the news?'
"'Cattle up?' I asks.
"'Willella and Jackson Bird was married in Palestine yesterday,' says he. 'Just got a letter this morning.'
"I dropped them flowers in a cracker-barrel, and let the news trickle86 in my ears and down toward my upper left-hand shirt pocket until it got to my feet.
"'Would you mind saying that over again once more, Uncle Emsley?' says I. 'Maybe my hearing has got wrong, and you only said that prime heifers was 4.80 on the hoof87, or something like that.'
"'Married yesterday,' says Uncle Emsley, 'and gone to Waco and Niagara Falls on a wedding tour. Why, didn't you see none of the signs all along? Jackson Bird has been courting Willella ever since that day he took her out riding.'
"'Then,' says I, in a kind of yell, 'what was all this zizzaparoola he gives me about pancakes? Tell me that.'
"When I said 'pancakes' Uncle Emsley sort of dodged88 and stepped back.
"'Somebody's been dealing me pancakes from the bottom of the deck,' I says, 'and I'll find out. I believe you know. Talk up,' says I, 'or we'll mix a panful of batter89 right here.'
"I slid over the counter after Uncle Emsley. He grabbed at his gun, but it was in a drawer, and he missed it two inches. I got him by the front of his shirt and shoved him in a corner.
"'Talk pancakes,' says I, 'or be made into one. Does Miss Willella make 'em?'
"'She never made one in her life and I never saw one,' says Uncle Emsley, soothing90. 'Calm down now, Jud--calm down. You've got excited, and that wound in your head is contaminating your sense of intelligence. Try not to think about pancakes.'
"'Uncle Emsley,' says I, 'I'm not wounded in the head except so far as my natural cognitive91 instincts run to runts. Jackson Bird told me he was calling on Miss Willella for the purpose of finding out her system of producing pancakes, and he asked me to help him get the bill of lading of the ingredients. I done so, with the results as you see. Have I been sodded down with Johnson grass by a pink-eyed snoozer, or what?'
"'Slack up your grip in my dress shirt,' says Uncle Emsley, 'and I'll tell you. Yes, it looks like Jackson Bird has gone and humbugged you some. The day after he went riding with Willella he came back and told me and her to watch out for you whenever you got to talking about pancakes. He said you was in camp once where they was cooking flapjacks, and one of the fellows cut you over the head with a frying pan. Jackson said that whenever you got overhot or excited that wound hurt you and made you kind of crazy, and you went raving92 about pancakes. He told us to just get you worked off of the subject and soothed93 down, and you wouldn't be dangerous. So, me and Willella done the best by you we knew how. Well, well,' says Uncle Emsley, 'that Jackson Bird is sure a seldom kind of a snoozer.'"
During the progress of Jud's story he had been slowly but deftly94 combining certain portions of the contents of his sacks and cans. Toward the close of it he set before me the finished product--a pair of red-hot, rich-hued pancakes on a tin plate. From some secret hoarding95 he also brought a lump of excellent butter and a bottle of golden syrup.
"How long ago did these things happen?" I asked him.
"Three years," said Jud. "They're living on the Mired Mule Ranch now. But I haven't seen either of 'em since. They say Jackson Bird was fixing his ranch up fine with rocking chairs and window curtains all the time he was putting me up the pancake tree. Oh, I got over it after a while. But the boys kept the racket up."
"Did you make these cakes by the famous recipe?" I asked.
"Didn't I tell you there wasn't no receipt?" said Jud. "The boys hollered pancakes till they got pancake hungry, and I cut this recipe out of a newspaper. How does the truck taste?"
"They're delicious," I answered. "Why don't you have some, too, Jud?"
I was sure I heard a sigh.
"Me?" said Jud. "I don't ever eat 'em."
收听单词发音 |
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ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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wrench
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| v.猛拧；挣脱；使扭伤；n.扳手；痛苦，难受 | |
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compulsory
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| n.强制的，必修的；规定的，义务的 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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conversational
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| adj.对话的，会话的 | |
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monologist
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| n.独白者，自言自语者 | |
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rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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bereaved
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| adj.刚刚丧失亲人的v.使失去（希望、生命等）( bereave的过去式和过去分词)；（尤指死亡）使丧失（亲人、朋友等）；使孤寂；抢走（财物） | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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longings
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| 渴望，盼望( longing的名词复数 ) | |
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caption
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| n.说明，字幕，标题；v.加上标题，加上说明 | |
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maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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antelope
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| n.羚羊；羚羊皮 | |
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endorsed
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| vt.& vi.endorse的过去式或过去分词形式v.赞同( endorse的过去式和过去分词 )；在（尤指支票的）背面签字；在（文件的）背面写评论；在广告上说本人使用并赞同某产品 | |
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candid
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| adj.公正的，正直的；坦率的 | |
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swap
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| n.交换；vt.交换，用...作交易 | |
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pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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dealing
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allusions
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| 暗指，间接提到( allusion的名词复数 ) | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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untie
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| vt.解开，松开；解放 | |
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strings
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mired
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| abbr.microreciprocal degree 迈尔德（色温单位）v.深陷( mire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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mule
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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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grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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devastation
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| n.毁坏；荒废；极度震惊或悲伤 | |
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crackers
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| adj.精神错乱的，癫狂的n.爆竹( cracker的名词复数 )；薄脆饼干；（认为）十分愉快的事；迷人的姑娘 | |
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hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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hatchet
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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philandering
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shovel
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| n.铁锨，铲子，一铲之量；v.铲，铲出 | |
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edified
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| v.开导，启发( edify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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aggravating
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| adj.恼人的，讨厌的 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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busted
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| adj. 破产了的，失败了的，被降级的，被逮捕的，被抓到的 动词bust的过去式和过去分词 | |
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42
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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43
butted
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| 对接的 | |
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gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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45
sifted
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| v.筛( sift的过去式和过去分词 )；筛滤；细查；详审 | |
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46
impair
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| v.损害，损伤；削弱，减少 | |
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47
lenient
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| adj.宽大的，仁慈的 | |
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48
trots
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| 小跑，急走( trot的名词复数 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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49
equestrian
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| adj.骑马的；n.马术 | |
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50
slough
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| v.蜕皮，脱落，抛弃 | |
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51
ornithology
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| n.鸟类学 | |
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52
attachment
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| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
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53
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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54
gastronomical
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| adj.美食法的，美食学的 | |
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ambrosial
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| adj.美味的 | |
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56
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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57
procure
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| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
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58
orphans
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| 孤儿( orphan的名词复数 ) | |
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59
syrup
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| n.糖浆，糖水 | |
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60
steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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61
steered
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| v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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quotations
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| n.引用( quotation的名词复数 )；[商业]行情（报告）；（货物或股票的）市价；时价 | |
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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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twig
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| n.小树枝，嫩枝；v.理解 | |
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67
wheedling
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| v.骗取（某物），哄骗（某人干某事）( wheedle的现在分词 ) | |
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smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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constituents
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| n.选民( constituent的名词复数 )；成分；构成部分；要素 | |
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71
ambled
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| v.（马）缓行( amble的过去式和过去分词 )；从容地走，漫步 | |
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72
pitcher
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| n.(有嘴和柄的)大水罐；(棒球)投手 | |
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hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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outfits
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| n.全套装备( outfit的名词复数 )；一套服装；集体；组织v.装备，配置设备，供给服装( outfit的第三人称单数 ) | |
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feud
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| n.长期不和；世仇；v.长期争斗；世代结仇 | |
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apprised
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| v.告知，通知( apprise的过去式和过去分词 )；评价 | |
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anatomy
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| n.解剖学，解剖；功能，结构，组织 | |
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78
sifter
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| n.（用于筛撒粉状食物的）筛具，撒粉器；滤器；罗圈；罗 | |
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dough
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| n.生面团；钱，现款 | |
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80
specifications
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| n.规格；载明；详述；（产品等的）说明书；说明书( specification的名词复数 )；详细的计划书；载明；详述 | |
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81
cyclones
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| n.气旋( cyclone的名词复数 )；旋风；飓风；暴风 | |
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frivolous
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| adj.轻薄的；轻率的 | |
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83
hull
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| n.船身；(果、实等的)外壳；vt.去(谷物等)壳 | |
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84
galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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85
herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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86
trickle
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| vi.淌，滴，流出，慢慢移动，逐渐消散 | |
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87
hoof
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| n.(马，牛等的)蹄 | |
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88
dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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89
batter
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| v.接连重击；磨损；n.牛奶面糊；击球员 | |
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soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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cognitive
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| adj.认知的，认识的，有感知的 | |
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92
raving
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| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
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93
soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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95
hoarding
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| n.贮藏；积蓄；临时围墙；囤积v.积蓄并储藏（某物）( hoard的现在分词 ) | |
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