章节正文
hunt out the marked trees. I suppose they are all marked something
like that first maple on the line was. Wessner mentioned another
good one not so far from that. He said it was best of all. I'd be
having the swelled head if I could find that. Of course, I don't
know a thing about the trees, but I could hunt for the marks.
Jack was so good at it he could tell some of them by the bark, but all
he wanted to take that we've found so far have just had a deep chip
cut out, rather low down, and where the bushes were thick over it.
I believe I could be finding some of them."
"Good head!" said McLean. "We will do that. You may begin as soon
as you are rested. And about things you come across in the swamp,
Freckles--the most trifling little thing that you think the Bird
Woman would want, take your wheel and go after her at any time.
I'll leave two men on the line, so that you will have one on either
side, and you can come and go as you please. Have you stopped to
think of all we owe her, my boy?"
"Yis; and the Angel--we owe her a lot, too," said Freckles. "I owe
her me life and honor. It's lying awake nights I'll have to be
trying to think how I'm ever to pay her up."
"Well, begin with the muff," suggested McLean. "That should be fine."
He bent down and ruffled the rich fur of the otter lying at his feet.
"I don't exactly see how it comes to be in such splendid fur in summer.
Their coats are always thick in cold weather, but this scarcely
could be improved. I'll wire Cooper to be watching for it.
They must have it fresh. When it's tanned we won't spare any
expense in making it up. It should be a royal thing, and some way
I think it will exactly suit the Angel. I can't think of anything
that would be more appropriate for her."
"Neither can I," agreed Freckles heartily. "When I reach the city
there's one other thing, if I've the money after the muff is finished."
He told McLean of Mrs. Duncan's desire for a hat similar to
the Angel's. He hesitated a little in the telling, keeping sharp
watch on McLean's face. When he saw the Boss's eyes were full of
comprehension and sympathy, he loved him anew, for, as ever, McLean
was quick to understand. Instead of laughing, he said: "I think
you'll have to let me in on that, too. You mustn't be selfish,
you know. I'll tell you what we'll do. Send it for Christmas.
I'll be home then, and we can fill a box. You get the hat.
I'll add a dress and wrap. You buy Duncan a hat and gloves.
I'll send him a big overcoat, and we'll put in a lot of little
stuff for the babies. Won't that be fun?"
Freckles fairly shivered with delight.
"That would be away too serious for fun," he said. "That would
be heavenly. How long will it be?"
He began counting the time, and McLean deliberately set himself to
encourage Freckles and keep his thoughts from the trouble of the
past few days, for he had been overwrought and needed quiet and rest.
CHAPTER XV
Wherein Freckles and the Angel Try Taking a Picture, and Little
Chicken Furnishes the Subject
A week later everything at the Limberlost was precisely as it had
been before the tragedy, except the case in Freckles' room now
rested on the stump of the newly felled tree. Enough of the vines
were left to cover it prettily, and every vestige of the havoc of
a few days before was gone. New guards were patrolling the trail.
Freckles was roughly laying off the swamp in sections and searching
for marked trees. In that time he had found one deeply chipped and
the chip cunningly" target="_blank" title="ad.狡猾地；精巧地">cunningly replaced and tacked in. It promised to be quite
rare, so he was jubilant. He also found so many subjects for the
Bird Woman that her coming was of almost daily occurrence, and the
hours he spent with her and the Angel were nothing less than golden.
The Limberlost was now arrayed as the Queen of Sheba in all her glory.
The first frosts of autumn had bejewelled her crown in flashing
topaz, ruby, and emerald. Around her feet trailed the purple
of her garments, while in her hand was her golden scepter.
Everything was at full tide. It seemed as if nothing could grow
lovelier, and it was all standing still a few weeks, waiting
coming destruction.
The swamp was palpitant with life. Every pair of birds that had
flocked to it in the spring was now multiplied by from two to ten.
The young were tame from Freckles' tri-parenthood, and so plump and
sleek that they were quite as beautiful as their elders, even if in
many cases they lacked their brilliantplumage. It was the same
story of increase everywhere. There were chubby little ground-hogs
scudding on the trail. There were cunning baby coons and opossums
peeping from hollow logs and trees. Young muskrats followed their
parents across the lagoons.
If you could come upon a family of foxes that had not yet
disbanded, and see the young playing with a wild duck's carcass
that their mother had brought, and note the pride and satisfaction
in her eyes as she lay at one side guarding them, it would be a
picture not to be forgotten. Freckles never tired of studying the
devotion of a fox mother to her babies. To him, whose early life
had been so embittered by continual proof of neglect and cruelty in
human parents toward their children, the love of these furred and
feathered folk of the Limberlost was even more of a miracle than to
the Bird Woman and the Angel.
The Angel liked the baby rabbits and squirrels. Earlier in the
season, when the young were yet very small, it so happened that at
times Freckles could give into her hands one of these little ones.
Then it was pure joy to stand back and watch her heaving breast,
flushed cheek, and shining eyes. Hers were such lovely eyes.
Freckles had discovered lately that they were not so dark as he had
thought them at first, but that the length and thickness of lash,
by which they were shaded, made them appear darker than they really
were. They were forever changing. Now sparkling and darkling with
wit, now humid with sympathy, now burning with the fire of courage,
now taking on strength of color with ambition, now flashing
indignantly at the abuse of any creature.
She had carried several of the squirrel and bunny babies home, and
had littered the conservatory with them. Her care of them was perfect.
She was learning her natural history from nature, and having much
healthful exercise. To her, they were the most interesting of all,
but the Bird Woman preferred the birds, with a close second in the
moths and butterflies.
Brown butterfly time had come. The edge of the swale was filled
with milkweed, and other plants beloved of them, and the air was
golden with the flashing satin wings of the monarch, viceroy,
and argynnis. They outnumbered those of any other color three to one.
Among the birds it really seemed as if the little yellow fellows
were in the preponderance. At least, they were until the redwinged
blackbirds and bobolinks, that had nested on the upland, suddenly
saw in the swamp the garden of the Lord and came swarming by hundreds
to feast and adventure upon it these last few weeks before migration.
Never was there a finer feast spread for the birds. The grasses
were filled with seeds: so, too, were weeds of every variety.
Fall berries were ripe. Wild grapes and black haws were ready.
Bugs were creeping everywhere. The muck was yeasty with worms.
Insects filled the air. Nature made glorious pause for holiday
before her next change, and by none of the frequenters of the
swamp was this more appreciated than by the big black chickens.
They seemed to feel the new reign of peace and fullness most of all.
As for food, they did not even have to hunt for themselves these
days, for the feasts now being spread before Little Chicken
were more than he could use, and he was glad to have his parents
come down and help him.
He was a fine, big, overgrown fellow, and his wings, with quills of
jetty black, gleaming with bronze, were so strong they almost
lifted his body. He had three inches of tail, and his beak and
claws were sharp. His muscles began to clamor for exercise.
He raced the forty feet of his home back and forth many times every
hour of the day. After a few days of that, he began lifting and
spreading his wings, and flopping them until the down on his back
was filled with elm fiber. Then he commenced jumping. The funny
little hops, springs, and sidewise bounds he gave set Freckles and
the Angel, hidden in the swamp, watching him, into smothered
chuckles of delight.
Sometimes he fell to coquetting with himself; and that was the
funniest thing of all, for he turned his head up, down, from side
to side, and drew in his chin with prinky little jerks and tilts.
He would stretch his neck, throw up his head, turn it to one side
and smirk--actually smirk, the most complacent and self-satisfied
smirk that anyone ever saw on the face of a bird. It was so comical
that Freckles and the Angel told the Bird Woman of it one day.
When she finished her work on Little Chicken, she left them the
camera ready for use, telling them they might hide in the bushes
and watch. If Little Chicken came out and truly smirked, and they
could squeeze the bulb at the proper moment to snap him, she would
be more than delighted.
Freckles and the Angel quietly curled beside a big log, and with
eager eyes and softest breathing they patiently waited; but Little
Chicken had feasted before they told of his latest accomplishment.
He was tired and sleepy, so he went into the log to bed, and for an
hour he never stirred.
They were becoming anxious, for the light soon would be gone, and
they had so wanted to try for the picture. At last Little Chicken
lifted his head, opened his beak, and gaped widely. He dozed a
minute or two more. The Angel said that was his beauty sleep.
Then he lazily gaped again and stood up, stretching and yawning.
He ambled leisurely toward the gateway, and the Angel said:
"Now, we may have a chance, at last."
"I do hope so," shivered Freckles.
With one accord they arose to their knees and trained their eyes on
the mouth of the log. The light was full and strong. Little Chicken
prospected again with no results. He dressed his plumage, polished
his beak, and when he felt fine and in full toilet he began to
flirt with himself. Freckles' eyes snapped and his breath sucked
between his clenched teeth.
"He's going to do it!" whispered the Angel. "That will come next.
You'll best give me that bulb!"
"Yis," assented Freckles, but he was looking at the log and he made
no move to relinquish the bulb.
Little Chicken nodded daintily and ruffled his feathers. He gave
his head sundry little sidewise jerks and rapidly shifted his point
of vision. Once there was the fleeting little ghost of a smirk.
"Now!--No!" snapped the Angel.
Freckles leaned toward the bird. Tensely he waited. Unconsciously
the hand of the Angel clasped his. He scarcely knew it was there.
Suddenly Little Chicken sprang straight in the air and landed with
a thud. The Angel started slightly, but Freckles was immovable.
Then, as if in approval of his last performance, the big, overgrown
baby wheeled until he was more than three-quarters, almost full
side, toward the camera, straightened on his legs, squared his
shoulders, stretched his neck full height, drew in his chin and
smirked his most pronounced smirk, directly in the face of the lens.
Freckles' fingers closed on the bulb convulsively, and the Angel's
closed on his at the instant. Then she heaved a great sigh of
relief and lifted her hands to push back the damp, clustering hair
from her face.
"How soon do you s'pose it will be finished?" came Freckles'
strident whisper.
For the first time the Angel looked at him. He was on his knees,
leaning forward, his eyes directed toward the bird, the
perspiration running in little streams down his red,
mosquito-bitten face. His hat was awry, his bright hair rampant,
his breast heaving with excitement, while he yet gripped the bulb
with every ounce of strength in his body.
"Do you think we were for getting it?" he asked.
The Angel could only nod. Freckles heaved a deep sigh of relief.
"Well, if that ain't the hardest work I ever did in me life!"
he exclaimed. "It's no wonder the Bird Woman's for coming out of
like that first maple on the line was. Wessner mentioned another
good one not so far from that. He said it was best of all. I'd be
having the swelled head if I could find that. Of course, I don't
know a thing about the trees, but I could hunt for the marks.
Jack was so good at it he could tell some of them by the bark, but all
he wanted to take that we've found so far have just had a deep chip
cut out, rather low down, and where the bushes were thick over it.
I believe I could be finding some of them."
"Good head!" said McLean. "We will do that. You may begin as soon
as you are rested. And about things you come across in the swamp,
Freckles--the most trifling little thing that you think the Bird
Woman would want, take your wheel and go after her at any time.
I'll leave two men on the line, so that you will have one on either
side, and you can come and go as you please. Have you stopped to
think of all we owe her, my boy?"
"Yis; and the Angel--we owe her a lot, too," said Freckles. "I owe
her me life and honor. It's lying awake nights I'll have to be
trying to think how I'm ever to pay her up."
"Well, begin with the muff," suggested McLean. "That should be fine."
He bent down and ruffled the rich fur of the otter lying at his feet.
"I don't exactly see how it comes to be in such splendid fur in summer.
Their coats are always thick in cold weather, but this scarcely
could be improved. I'll wire Cooper to be watching for it.
They must have it fresh. When it's tanned we won't spare any
expense in making it up. It should be a royal thing, and some way
I think it will exactly suit the Angel. I can't think of anything
that would be more appropriate for her."
"Neither can I," agreed Freckles heartily. "When I reach the city
there's one other thing, if I've the money after the muff is finished."
He told McLean of Mrs. Duncan's desire for a hat similar to
the Angel's. He hesitated a little in the telling, keeping sharp
watch on McLean's face. When he saw the Boss's eyes were full of
comprehension and sympathy, he loved him anew, for, as ever, McLean
was quick to understand. Instead of laughing, he said: "I think
you'll have to let me in on that, too. You mustn't be selfish,
you know. I'll tell you what we'll do. Send it for Christmas.
I'll be home then, and we can fill a box. You get the hat.
I'll add a dress and wrap. You buy Duncan a hat and gloves.
I'll send him a big overcoat, and we'll put in a lot of little
stuff for the babies. Won't that be fun?"
Freckles fairly shivered with delight.
"That would be away too serious for fun," he said. "That would
be heavenly. How long will it be?"
He began counting the time, and McLean deliberately set himself to
encourage Freckles and keep his thoughts from the trouble of the
past few days, for he had been overwrought and needed quiet and rest.
CHAPTER XV
Wherein Freckles and the Angel Try Taking a Picture, and Little
Chicken Furnishes the Subject
A week later everything at the Limberlost was precisely as it had
been before the tragedy, except the case in Freckles' room now
rested on the stump of the newly felled tree. Enough of the vines
were left to cover it prettily, and every vestige of the havoc of
a few days before was gone. New guards were patrolling the trail.
Freckles was roughly laying off the swamp in sections and searching
for marked trees. In that time he had found one deeply chipped and
the chip cunningly" target="_blank" title="ad.狡猾地；精巧地">cunningly replaced and tacked in. It promised to be quite
rare, so he was jubilant. He also found so many subjects for the
Bird Woman that her coming was of almost daily occurrence, and the
hours he spent with her and the Angel were nothing less than golden.
The Limberlost was now arrayed as the Queen of Sheba in all her glory.
The first frosts of autumn had bejewelled her crown in flashing
topaz, ruby, and emerald. Around her feet trailed the purple
of her garments, while in her hand was her golden scepter.
Everything was at full tide. It seemed as if nothing could grow
lovelier, and it was all standing still a few weeks, waiting
coming destruction.
The swamp was palpitant with life. Every pair of birds that had
flocked to it in the spring was now multiplied by from two to ten.
The young were tame from Freckles' tri-parenthood, and so plump and
sleek that they were quite as beautiful as their elders, even if in
many cases they lacked their brilliantplumage. It was the same
story of increase everywhere. There were chubby little ground-hogs
scudding on the trail. There were cunning baby coons and opossums
peeping from hollow logs and trees. Young muskrats followed their
parents across the lagoons.
If you could come upon a family of foxes that had not yet
disbanded, and see the young playing with a wild duck's carcass
that their mother had brought, and note the pride and satisfaction
in her eyes as she lay at one side guarding them, it would be a
picture not to be forgotten. Freckles never tired of studying the
devotion of a fox mother to her babies. To him, whose early life
had been so embittered by continual proof of neglect and cruelty in
human parents toward their children, the love of these furred and
feathered folk of the Limberlost was even more of a miracle than to
the Bird Woman and the Angel.
The Angel liked the baby rabbits and squirrels. Earlier in the
season, when the young were yet very small, it so happened that at
times Freckles could give into her hands one of these little ones.
Then it was pure joy to stand back and watch her heaving breast,
flushed cheek, and shining eyes. Hers were such lovely eyes.
Freckles had discovered lately that they were not so dark as he had
thought them at first, but that the length and thickness of lash,
by which they were shaded, made them appear darker than they really
were. They were forever changing. Now sparkling and darkling with
wit, now humid with sympathy, now burning with the fire of courage,
now taking on strength of color with ambition, now flashing
indignantly at the abuse of any creature.
She had carried several of the squirrel and bunny babies home, and
had littered the conservatory with them. Her care of them was perfect.
She was learning her natural history from nature, and having much
healthful exercise. To her, they were the most interesting of all,
but the Bird Woman preferred the birds, with a close second in the
moths and butterflies.
Brown butterfly time had come. The edge of the swale was filled
with milkweed, and other plants beloved of them, and the air was
golden with the flashing satin wings of the monarch, viceroy,
and argynnis. They outnumbered those of any other color three to one.
Among the birds it really seemed as if the little yellow fellows
were in the preponderance. At least, they were until the redwinged
blackbirds and bobolinks, that had nested on the upland, suddenly
saw in the swamp the garden of the Lord and came swarming by hundreds
to feast and adventure upon it these last few weeks before migration.
Never was there a finer feast spread for the birds. The grasses
were filled with seeds: so, too, were weeds of every variety.
Fall berries were ripe. Wild grapes and black haws were ready.
Bugs were creeping everywhere. The muck was yeasty with worms.
Insects filled the air. Nature made glorious pause for holiday
before her next change, and by none of the frequenters of the
swamp was this more appreciated than by the big black chickens.
They seemed to feel the new reign of peace and fullness most of all.
As for food, they did not even have to hunt for themselves these
days, for the feasts now being spread before Little Chicken
were more than he could use, and he was glad to have his parents
come down and help him.
He was a fine, big, overgrown fellow, and his wings, with quills of
jetty black, gleaming with bronze, were so strong they almost
lifted his body. He had three inches of tail, and his beak and
claws were sharp. His muscles began to clamor for exercise.
He raced the forty feet of his home back and forth many times every
hour of the day. After a few days of that, he began lifting and
spreading his wings, and flopping them until the down on his back
was filled with elm fiber. Then he commenced jumping. The funny
little hops, springs, and sidewise bounds he gave set Freckles and
the Angel, hidden in the swamp, watching him, into smothered
chuckles of delight.
Sometimes he fell to coquetting with himself; and that was the
funniest thing of all, for he turned his head up, down, from side
to side, and drew in his chin with prinky little jerks and tilts.
He would stretch his neck, throw up his head, turn it to one side
and smirk--actually smirk, the most complacent and self-satisfied
smirk that anyone ever saw on the face of a bird. It was so comical
that Freckles and the Angel told the Bird Woman of it one day.
When she finished her work on Little Chicken, she left them the
camera ready for use, telling them they might hide in the bushes
and watch. If Little Chicken came out and truly smirked, and they
could squeeze the bulb at the proper moment to snap him, she would
be more than delighted.
Freckles and the Angel quietly curled beside a big log, and with
eager eyes and softest breathing they patiently waited; but Little
Chicken had feasted before they told of his latest accomplishment.
He was tired and sleepy, so he went into the log to bed, and for an
hour he never stirred.
They were becoming anxious, for the light soon would be gone, and
they had so wanted to try for the picture. At last Little Chicken
lifted his head, opened his beak, and gaped widely. He dozed a
minute or two more. The Angel said that was his beauty sleep.
Then he lazily gaped again and stood up, stretching and yawning.
He ambled leisurely toward the gateway, and the Angel said:
"Now, we may have a chance, at last."
"I do hope so," shivered Freckles.
With one accord they arose to their knees and trained their eyes on
the mouth of the log. The light was full and strong. Little Chicken
prospected again with no results. He dressed his plumage, polished
his beak, and when he felt fine and in full toilet he began to
flirt with himself. Freckles' eyes snapped and his breath sucked
between his clenched teeth.
"He's going to do it!" whispered the Angel. "That will come next.
You'll best give me that bulb!"
"Yis," assented Freckles, but he was looking at the log and he made
no move to relinquish the bulb.
Little Chicken nodded daintily and ruffled his feathers. He gave
his head sundry little sidewise jerks and rapidly shifted his point
of vision. Once there was the fleeting little ghost of a smirk.
"Now!--No!" snapped the Angel.
Freckles leaned toward the bird. Tensely he waited. Unconsciously
the hand of the Angel clasped his. He scarcely knew it was there.
Suddenly Little Chicken sprang straight in the air and landed with
a thud. The Angel started slightly, but Freckles was immovable.
Then, as if in approval of his last performance, the big, overgrown
baby wheeled until he was more than three-quarters, almost full
side, toward the camera, straightened on his legs, squared his
shoulders, stretched his neck full height, drew in his chin and
smirked his most pronounced smirk, directly in the face of the lens.
Freckles' fingers closed on the bulb convulsively, and the Angel's
closed on his at the instant. Then she heaved a great sigh of
relief and lifted her hands to push back the damp, clustering hair
from her face.
"How soon do you s'pose it will be finished?" came Freckles'
strident whisper.
For the first time the Angel looked at him. He was on his knees,
leaning forward, his eyes directed toward the bird, the
perspiration running in little streams down his red,
mosquito-bitten face. His hat was awry, his bright hair rampant,
his breast heaving with excitement, while he yet gripped the bulb
with every ounce of strength in his body.
"Do you think we were for getting it?" he asked.
The Angel could only nod. Freckles heaved a deep sigh of relief.
"Well, if that ain't the hardest work I ever did in me life!"
he exclaimed. "It's no wonder the Bird Woman's for coming out of
- trifling [´traifliŋ]
a.微小的；轻浮的 (初中英语单词) - sympathy [´simpəθi] n.同情，怜悯 (初中英语单词)
- tragedy [´trædʒidi] n.悲剧；惨案；灾难 (初中英语单词)
- standing [´stændiŋ] n.持续 a.直立的 (初中英语单词)
- brilliant [´briliənt] a.灿烂的；杰出的 (初中英语单词)
- cunning [´kʌniŋ] a.&n.狡猾(诡诈)的 (初中英语单词)
- neglect [ni´glekt] vt.&n.疏忽；忽视；忽略 (初中英语单词)
- miracle [´mirəkl] n.奇迹；令人惊奇的 (初中英语单词)
- lately [´leitli] ad.近来，不久前 (初中英语单词)
- ambition [æm´biʃən] n.雄心，野心；企图 (初中英语单词)
- squirrel [´skwirəl] n.松鼠 (初中英语单词)
- learning [´lə:niŋ] n.学习；学问；知识 (初中英语单词)
- butterfly [´bʌtəflai] n.蝴蝶；蝶式 (初中英语单词)
- beloved [bi´lʌvd] a.为....所爱的 n.爱人 (初中英语单词)
- monarch [´mɔnək] n.君主；(大)王 (初中英语单词)
- glorious [´glɔ:riəs] a.光荣的；辉煌的 (初中英语单词)
- hidden [´hid(ə)n] hide 的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- anxious [´æŋkʃəs] a.担忧的；渴望的 (初中英语单词)
- accord [ə´kɔ:d] n.&vi.符合 vt.给与 (初中英语单词)
- breath [breθ] n.呼吸；气息 (初中英语单词)
- vision [´viʒən] n.视觉；想象力；幻影 (初中英语单词)
- sprang [spræŋ] spring 的过去式 (初中英语单词)
- slightly [´slaitli] ad.轻微地；细长的 (初中英语单词)
- performance [pə´fɔ:məns] n.履行；行为；工作 (初中英语单词)
- height [hait] n.高度；顶点；卓越 (初中英语单词)
- instant [´instənt] a.立即的 n.紧迫；瞬间 (初中英语单词)
- running [´rʌniŋ] a.奔跑的；流动的 (初中英语单词)
- excitement [ik´saitmənt] n.兴奋；骚动；煽动 (初中英语单词)
- finding [´faindiŋ] n.发现物；判断；结果 (高中英语单词)
- appropriate [ə´prəupri-it, ə´prəuprieit] a.适宜的 vt.私占；拨给 (高中英语单词)
- heartily [´hɑ:tili] ad.衷心地；亲切地 (高中英语单词)
- overcoat [´əuvəkəut] n.大衣 (高中英语单词)
- heavenly [´hevənli] a.天的，天空的 (高中英语单词)
- deliberately [di´libərətli] ad.故意地；慎重地 (高中英语单词)
- precisely [pri´saisli] ad.精确地；刻板地 (高中英语单词)
- roughly [´rʌfli] ad.粗糙地；毛糙地 (高中英语单词)
- cunningly [´kʌniŋli] ad.狡猾地；精巧地 (高中英语单词)
- occurrence [ə´kʌrəns] n.发生；(偶发)事件 (高中英语单词)
- continual [kən´tinjuəl] a.不断的，频繁的 (高中英语单词)
- cruelty [´kru:əlti] n.残忍；残酷行为 (高中英语单词)
- thickness [´θiknis] n.厚；浓；粗；稠密 (高中英语单词)
- bronze [brɔnz] n.青铜(器) (高中英语单词)
- squeeze [skwi:z] v.&n.压榨，榨取 (高中英语单词)
- patiently [´peiʃəntli] ad.有耐心地；坚韧地 (高中英语单词)
- sleepy [´sli:pi] a.困的，想睡的 (高中英语单词)
- gateway [´geit-wei] n.入口；通道；途径 (高中英语单词)
- toilet [´tɔilit] n.梳妆(台)；卫生间 (高中英语单词)
- approval [ə´pru:vəl] n.赞成，批准，认可 (高中英语单词)
- pronounced [prə´naunst] a.发出音的；显著的 (高中英语单词)
- emerald [´emərəld] n.纯绿宝石；翠绿色 (英语四级单词)
- fullness [´fulnis] n.满；充实；彻底 (英语四级单词)
- leisurely [´leʒəli] a.从容地，慢慢地 (英语四级单词)
- sundry [´sʌndri] a.各式各样的，各式的 (英语四级单词)
- cooper [´ku:pə] v.&n.制桶工人；修桶工人 (英语六级单词)
- taking [´teikiŋ] a.迷人的 n.捕获物 (英语六级单词)
- vestige [´vestidʒ] n.形迹；痕迹；遗迹 (英语六级单词)
- plumage [´plu:midʒ] n.羽毛；漂亮衣服 (英语六级单词)
- upland [´ʌplənd] n.高地；山地 (英语六级单词)
- lazily [´leizili] ad.懒惰地，慢吞吞地 (英语六级单词)
- relinquish [ri´liŋkwiʃ] vt.放弃；撤回；停止 (英语六级单词)
- fleeting [´fli:tiŋ] a.飞逝的，疾驰的 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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