章节正文
"Excuse me and go on," said Mr. Harrison, sitting down again.
"My brother the sailor never taught that bird any manners."
"I went home and after tea I went out to the milking pen. Mr.
Harrison,". . .Anne leaned forward, clasping her hands with her
old childishgesture, while her big gray eyes gazed imploringly
into Mr. Harrison's embarrassed face. . ."I found my cow still
shut up in the pen. It was YOUR cow I had sold to Mr. Shearer."
"Bless my soul," exclaimed Mr. Harrison, in blank amazement at
this unlooked-for conclusion. "What a VERY extraordinary thing!"
"Oh, it isn't in the least extraordinary that I should be getting
myself and other people into scrapes," said Anne mournfully.
"I'm noted for that. You might suppose I'd have grown out of it
by this time. . .I'll be seventeen next March. . .but it seems
that I haven't. Mr. Harrison, is it too much to hope that you'll
forgive me? I'm afraid it's too late to get your cow back, but
here is the money for her. . .or you can have mine in exchange
if you'd rather. She's a very good cow. And I can't express how
sorry I am for it all."
"Tut, tut," said Mr. Harrison briskly, "don't say another word
about it, miss. It's of no consequence. . .no consequence whatever.
Accidents will happen. I'm too hasty myself sometimes, miss. . .
far too hasty. But I can't help speaking out just what I think and
folks must take me as they find me. If that cow had been in my cabbages
now. . .but never mind, she wasn't, so it's all right. I think I'd
rather have your cow in exchange, since you want to be rid of her."
"Oh, thank you, Mr. Harrison. I'm so glad you are not vexed.
I was afraid you would be."
"And I suppose you were scared to death to come here and tell me,
after the fuss I made yesterday, hey? But you mustn't mind me,
I'm a terrible outspoken old fellow, that's all. . .awful apt to
tell the truth, no matter if it is a bit plain."
"So is Mrs. Lynde," said Anne, before she could prevent herself.
"Who? Mrs. Lynde? Don't you tell me I'm like that old gossip,"
said Mr. Harrison irritably. "I'm not. . .not a bit. What have
you got in that box?"
"A cake," said Anne archly. In her relief at Mr. Harrison's
unexpected amiability her spirits soared upward feather-light.
"I brought it over for you. . .I thought perhaps you didn't
have cake very often."
"I don't, that's a fact, and I'm mighty fond of it, too. I'm much
obliged to you. It looks good on top. I hope it's good all the
way through."
"It is," said Anne, gaily confident. "I have made cakes in my time
that were NOT, as Mrs. Allan could tell you, but this one is all right.
I made it for the Improvement Society, but I can make another for them."
"Well, I'll tell you what, miss, you must help me eat it. I'll put
the kettle on and we'll have a cup of tea. How will that do?"
"Will you let me make the tea?" said Anne dubiously.
Mr. Harrison chuckled.
"I see you haven't much confidence in my ability to make tea.
You're wrong. . .I can brew up as good a jorum of tea as you ever
drank. But go ahead yourself. Fortunately it rained last Sunday,
so there's plenty of clean dishes."
Anne hopped briskly up and went to work. She washed the teapot in
several waters before she put the tea to steep. Then she swept the
stove and set the table, bringing the dishes out of the pantry.
The state of that pantry horrified Anne, but she wisely said
nothing. Mr. Harrison told her where to find the bread and butter
and a can of peaches. Anne adorned the table with a bouquet from
the garden and shut her eyes to the stains on the tablecloth. Soon
the tea was ready and Anne found herself sitting opposite Mr.
Harrison at his own table, pouring his tea for him, and chatting
freely to him about her school and friends and plans. She could
hardly believe the evidence of her senses.
Mr. Harrison had brought Ginger back, averring that the poor
bird would be lonesome; and Anne, feeling that she could forgive
everybody and everything, offered him a walnut. But Ginger's
feelings had been grievously hurt and he rejected all overtures of
friendship. He sat moodily on his perch and ruffled his feathers
up until he looked like a mere ball of green and gold.
"Why do you call him Ginger?" asked Anne, who liked appropriate names
and thought Ginger accorded not at all with such gorgeous plumage.
"My brother the sailor named him. Maybe it had some reference to
his temper. I think a lot of that bird though. . .you'd be
surprised if you knew how much. He has his faults of course.
That bird has cost me a good deal one way and another. Some
people object to his swearing habits but he can't be broken of them.
I've tried. . .other people have tried. Some folks have prejudices
against parrots. Silly, ain't it? I like them myself. Ginger's a
lot of company to me. Nothing would induce me to give that bird
up. . .nothing in the world, miss."
Mr. Harrison flung the last sentence at Anne as explosively as if
he suspected her of some latent design of persuading him to give
Ginger up. Anne, however, was beginning to like the queer, fussy,
fidgety little man, and before the meal was over they were quite
good friends. Mr. Harrison found out about the Improvement
Society and was disposed to approve of it.
"That's right. Go ahead. There's lots of room for improvement in
this settlement. . .and in the people too."
"Oh, I don't know," flashed Anne. To herself, or to her particular
cronies, she might admit that there were some small imperfections,
easily removable, in Avonlea and its inhabitants. But to hear a
practical outsider like Mr. Harrison saying it was an entirely
different thing. "I think Avonlea is a lovely place; and the
people in it are very nice, too."
"I guess you've got a spice of temper," commented Mr. Harrison,
surveying the flushed cheeks and indignant eyes opposite him.
"It goes with hair like yours, I reckon. Avonlea is a pretty
decent place or I wouldn't have located here; but I suppose
even you will admit that it has SOME faults?"
"I like it all the better for them," said loyal Anne. "I don't
like places or people either that haven't any faults. I think a
truly perfect person would be very uninteresting. Mrs. Milton White
says she never met a perfect person, but she's heard enough about one
. . .her husband's first wife. Don't you think it must be very
uncomfortable to be married to a man whose first wife was perfect?"
"It would be more uncomfortable to be married to the perfect wife,"
declared Mr. Harrison, with a sudden and inexplicable warmth.
When tea was over Anne insisted on washing the dishes, although Mr.
Harrison assured her that there were enough in the house to do for
weeks yet. She would dearly have loved to sweep the floor also,
but no broom was visible and she did not like to ask where it was
for fear there wasn't one at all.
"You might run across and talk to me once in a while," suggested
Mr. Harrison when she was leaving. "'Tisn't far and folks ought
to be neighborly. I'm kind of interested in that society of yours.
Seems to me there'll be some fun in it. Who are you going to
tackle first?"
"We are not going to meddle with PEOPLE. . .it is only PLACES we
mean to improve," said Anne, in a dignified tone. She rather
suspected that Mr. Harrison was making fun of the project.
When she had gone Mr. Harrison watched her from the window. . .a
lithe, girlish shape, tripping lightheartedly across the fields in
the sunset afterglow.
"I'm a crusty, lonesome, crabbed old chap," he said aloud,
"but there's something about that little girl makes me feel young
again. . .and it's such a pleasant sensation I'd like to have it
repeated once in a while."
"Redheaded snippet," croaked Ginger mockingly.
Mr. Harrison shook his fist at the parrot.
"You ornery bird," he muttered, "I almost wish I'd wrung your neck
when my brother the sailor brought you home. Will you never be
done getting me into trouble?"
Anne ran home blithely and recounted her adventures to Marilla,
who had been not a little alarmed by her long absence and was
on the point of starting out to look for her.
"It's a pretty good world, after all, isn't it, Marilla?" concluded
Anne happily. "Mrs. Lynde was complaining the other day that it
wasn't much of a world. She said whenever you looked forward to
anything pleasant you were sure to be more or less disappointed
. . .perhaps that is true. But there is a good side to it too.
The bad things don't always come up to your expectations either
. . .they nearly always turn out ever so much better than you think.
I looked forward to a dreadfullyunpleasant experience when I went
over to Mr. Harrison's tonight; and instead he was quite kind and
I had almost a nice time. I think we're going to be real good
friends if we make plenty of allowances for each other, and
everything has turned out for the best. But all the same, Marilla,
I shall certainly never again sell a cow before making sure to whom
she belongs. And I do NOT like parrots!"
IV
Different Opinions
One evening at sunset, Jane Andrews, Gilbert Blythe, and Anne Shirley
were lingering by a fence in the shadow of gently swaying spruce boughs,
where a wood cut known as the Birch Path joined the main road. Jane had
been up to spend the afternoon with Anne, who walked part of the way home
with her; at the fence they met Gilbert, and all three were now talking
about the fateful morrow; for that morrow was the first of September
and the schools would open. Jane would go to Newbridge and Gilbert
to White Sands.
"You both have the advantage of me," sighed Anne. "You're going to
teach children who don't know you, but I have to teach my own old
schoolmates, and Mrs. Lynde says she's afraid they won't respect me
as they would a stranger unless I'm very cross from the first.
But I don't believe a teacher should be cross. Oh, it seems to me
such a responsibility!"
"I guess we'll get on all right," said Jane comfortably. Jane
was not troubled by any aspirations to be an influence for good.
She meant to earn her salary fairly, please the trustees, and get
her name on the School Inspector's roll of honor. Further ambitions
Jane had none. "The main thing will be to keep order and a teacher
has to be a little cross to do that. If my pupils won't do as I tell
them I shall punish them."
"How?"
"Give them a good whipping, of course."
"Oh, Jane, you wouldn't," cried Anne, shocked. "Jane, you COULDN'T!"
"Indeed, I could and would, if they deserved it," said Jane decidedly.
"I could NEVER whip a child," said Anne with equal decision.
"I don't believe in it AT ALL. Miss Stacy never whipped any of us
and she had perfect order; and Mr. Phillips was always whipping and
he had no order at all. No, if I can't get along without whipping
I shall not try to teach school. There are better ways of managing.
I shall try to win my pupils' affections and then they will WANT to
do what I tell them."
"But suppose they don't?" said practical Jane.
"I wouldn't whip them anyhow. I'm sure it wouldn't do any good.
Oh, don't whip your pupils, Jane dear, no matter what they do."
"What do you think about it, Gilbert?" demanded Jane. "Don't you
think there are some children who really need a whipping now and then?"
"Don't you think it's a cruel, barbarous thing to whip a child. . .
ANY child?" exclaimed Anne, her face flushing with earnestness.
"Well," said Gilbert slowly, torn between his real convictions and
his wish to measure up to Anne's ideal, "there's something to be
said on both sides. I don't believe in whipping children MUCH.
I think, as you say, Anne, that there are better ways of managing
as a rule, and that corporalpunishment should be a last resort.
But on the other hand, as Jane says, I believe there is an occasional
child who can't be influenced in any other way and who, in short,
needs a whipping and would be improved by it. Corporal punishment
as a last resort is to be my rule."
Gilbert, having tried to please both sides, succeeded, as is usual
"My brother the sailor never taught that bird any manners."
"I went home and after tea I went out to the milking pen. Mr.
Harrison,". . .Anne leaned forward, clasping her hands with her
old childishgesture, while her big gray eyes gazed imploringly
into Mr. Harrison's embarrassed face. . ."I found my cow still
shut up in the pen. It was YOUR cow I had sold to Mr. Shearer."
"Bless my soul," exclaimed Mr. Harrison, in blank amazement at
this unlooked-for conclusion. "What a VERY extraordinary thing!"
"Oh, it isn't in the least extraordinary that I should be getting
myself and other people into scrapes," said Anne mournfully.
"I'm noted for that. You might suppose I'd have grown out of it
by this time. . .I'll be seventeen next March. . .but it seems
that I haven't. Mr. Harrison, is it too much to hope that you'll
forgive me? I'm afraid it's too late to get your cow back, but
here is the money for her. . .or you can have mine in exchange
if you'd rather. She's a very good cow. And I can't express how
sorry I am for it all."
"Tut, tut," said Mr. Harrison briskly, "don't say another word
about it, miss. It's of no consequence. . .no consequence whatever.
Accidents will happen. I'm too hasty myself sometimes, miss. . .
far too hasty. But I can't help speaking out just what I think and
folks must take me as they find me. If that cow had been in my cabbages
now. . .but never mind, she wasn't, so it's all right. I think I'd
rather have your cow in exchange, since you want to be rid of her."
"Oh, thank you, Mr. Harrison. I'm so glad you are not vexed.
I was afraid you would be."
"And I suppose you were scared to death to come here and tell me,
after the fuss I made yesterday, hey? But you mustn't mind me,
I'm a terrible outspoken old fellow, that's all. . .awful apt to
tell the truth, no matter if it is a bit plain."
"So is Mrs. Lynde," said Anne, before she could prevent herself.
"Who? Mrs. Lynde? Don't you tell me I'm like that old gossip,"
said Mr. Harrison irritably. "I'm not. . .not a bit. What have
you got in that box?"
"A cake," said Anne archly. In her relief at Mr. Harrison's
unexpected amiability her spirits soared upward feather-light.
"I brought it over for you. . .I thought perhaps you didn't
have cake very often."
"I don't, that's a fact, and I'm mighty fond of it, too. I'm much
obliged to you. It looks good on top. I hope it's good all the
way through."
"It is," said Anne, gaily confident. "I have made cakes in my time
that were NOT, as Mrs. Allan could tell you, but this one is all right.
I made it for the Improvement Society, but I can make another for them."
"Well, I'll tell you what, miss, you must help me eat it. I'll put
the kettle on and we'll have a cup of tea. How will that do?"
"Will you let me make the tea?" said Anne dubiously.
Mr. Harrison chuckled.
"I see you haven't much confidence in my ability to make tea.
You're wrong. . .I can brew up as good a jorum of tea as you ever
drank. But go ahead yourself. Fortunately it rained last Sunday,
so there's plenty of clean dishes."
Anne hopped briskly up and went to work. She washed the teapot in
several waters before she put the tea to steep. Then she swept the
stove and set the table, bringing the dishes out of the pantry.
The state of that pantry horrified Anne, but she wisely said
nothing. Mr. Harrison told her where to find the bread and butter
and a can of peaches. Anne adorned the table with a bouquet from
the garden and shut her eyes to the stains on the tablecloth. Soon
the tea was ready and Anne found herself sitting opposite Mr.
Harrison at his own table, pouring his tea for him, and chatting
freely to him about her school and friends and plans. She could
hardly believe the evidence of her senses.
Mr. Harrison had brought Ginger back, averring that the poor
bird would be lonesome; and Anne, feeling that she could forgive
everybody and everything, offered him a walnut. But Ginger's
feelings had been grievously hurt and he rejected all overtures of
friendship. He sat moodily on his perch and ruffled his feathers
up until he looked like a mere ball of green and gold.
"Why do you call him Ginger?" asked Anne, who liked appropriate names
and thought Ginger accorded not at all with such gorgeous plumage.
"My brother the sailor named him. Maybe it had some reference to
his temper. I think a lot of that bird though. . .you'd be
surprised if you knew how much. He has his faults of course.
That bird has cost me a good deal one way and another. Some
people object to his swearing habits but he can't be broken of them.
I've tried. . .other people have tried. Some folks have prejudices
against parrots. Silly, ain't it? I like them myself. Ginger's a
lot of company to me. Nothing would induce me to give that bird
up. . .nothing in the world, miss."
Mr. Harrison flung the last sentence at Anne as explosively as if
he suspected her of some latent design of persuading him to give
Ginger up. Anne, however, was beginning to like the queer, fussy,
fidgety little man, and before the meal was over they were quite
good friends. Mr. Harrison found out about the Improvement
Society and was disposed to approve of it.
"That's right. Go ahead. There's lots of room for improvement in
this settlement. . .and in the people too."
"Oh, I don't know," flashed Anne. To herself, or to her particular
cronies, she might admit that there were some small imperfections,
easily removable, in Avonlea and its inhabitants. But to hear a
practical outsider like Mr. Harrison saying it was an entirely
different thing. "I think Avonlea is a lovely place; and the
people in it are very nice, too."
"I guess you've got a spice of temper," commented Mr. Harrison,
surveying the flushed cheeks and indignant eyes opposite him.
"It goes with hair like yours, I reckon. Avonlea is a pretty
decent place or I wouldn't have located here; but I suppose
even you will admit that it has SOME faults?"
"I like it all the better for them," said loyal Anne. "I don't
like places or people either that haven't any faults. I think a
truly perfect person would be very uninteresting. Mrs. Milton White
says she never met a perfect person, but she's heard enough about one
. . .her husband's first wife. Don't you think it must be very
uncomfortable to be married to a man whose first wife was perfect?"
"It would be more uncomfortable to be married to the perfect wife,"
declared Mr. Harrison, with a sudden and inexplicable warmth.
When tea was over Anne insisted on washing the dishes, although Mr.
Harrison assured her that there were enough in the house to do for
weeks yet. She would dearly have loved to sweep the floor also,
but no broom was visible and she did not like to ask where it was
for fear there wasn't one at all.
"You might run across and talk to me once in a while," suggested
Mr. Harrison when she was leaving. "'Tisn't far and folks ought
to be neighborly. I'm kind of interested in that society of yours.
Seems to me there'll be some fun in it. Who are you going to
tackle first?"
"We are not going to meddle with PEOPLE. . .it is only PLACES we
mean to improve," said Anne, in a dignified tone. She rather
suspected that Mr. Harrison was making fun of the project.
When she had gone Mr. Harrison watched her from the window. . .a
lithe, girlish shape, tripping lightheartedly across the fields in
the sunset afterglow.
"I'm a crusty, lonesome, crabbed old chap," he said aloud,
"but there's something about that little girl makes me feel young
again. . .and it's such a pleasant sensation I'd like to have it
repeated once in a while."
"Redheaded snippet," croaked Ginger mockingly.
Mr. Harrison shook his fist at the parrot.
"You ornery bird," he muttered, "I almost wish I'd wrung your neck
when my brother the sailor brought you home. Will you never be
done getting me into trouble?"
Anne ran home blithely and recounted her adventures to Marilla,
who had been not a little alarmed by her long absence and was
on the point of starting out to look for her.
"It's a pretty good world, after all, isn't it, Marilla?" concluded
Anne happily. "Mrs. Lynde was complaining the other day that it
wasn't much of a world. She said whenever you looked forward to
anything pleasant you were sure to be more or less disappointed
. . .perhaps that is true. But there is a good side to it too.
The bad things don't always come up to your expectations either
. . .they nearly always turn out ever so much better than you think.
I looked forward to a dreadfullyunpleasant experience when I went
over to Mr. Harrison's tonight; and instead he was quite kind and
I had almost a nice time. I think we're going to be real good
friends if we make plenty of allowances for each other, and
everything has turned out for the best. But all the same, Marilla,
I shall certainly never again sell a cow before making sure to whom
she belongs. And I do NOT like parrots!"
IV
Different Opinions
One evening at sunset, Jane Andrews, Gilbert Blythe, and Anne Shirley
were lingering by a fence in the shadow of gently swaying spruce boughs,
where a wood cut known as the Birch Path joined the main road. Jane had
been up to spend the afternoon with Anne, who walked part of the way home
with her; at the fence they met Gilbert, and all three were now talking
about the fateful morrow; for that morrow was the first of September
and the schools would open. Jane would go to Newbridge and Gilbert
to White Sands.
"You both have the advantage of me," sighed Anne. "You're going to
teach children who don't know you, but I have to teach my own old
schoolmates, and Mrs. Lynde says she's afraid they won't respect me
as they would a stranger unless I'm very cross from the first.
But I don't believe a teacher should be cross. Oh, it seems to me
such a responsibility!"
"I guess we'll get on all right," said Jane comfortably. Jane
was not troubled by any aspirations to be an influence for good.
She meant to earn her salary fairly, please the trustees, and get
her name on the School Inspector's roll of honor. Further ambitions
Jane had none. "The main thing will be to keep order and a teacher
has to be a little cross to do that. If my pupils won't do as I tell
them I shall punish them."
"How?"
"Give them a good whipping, of course."
"Oh, Jane, you wouldn't," cried Anne, shocked. "Jane, you COULDN'T!"
"Indeed, I could and would, if they deserved it," said Jane decidedly.
"I could NEVER whip a child," said Anne with equal decision.
"I don't believe in it AT ALL. Miss Stacy never whipped any of us
and she had perfect order; and Mr. Phillips was always whipping and
he had no order at all. No, if I can't get along without whipping
I shall not try to teach school. There are better ways of managing.
I shall try to win my pupils' affections and then they will WANT to
do what I tell them."
"But suppose they don't?" said practical Jane.
"I wouldn't whip them anyhow. I'm sure it wouldn't do any good.
Oh, don't whip your pupils, Jane dear, no matter what they do."
"What do you think about it, Gilbert?" demanded Jane. "Don't you
think there are some children who really need a whipping now and then?"
"Don't you think it's a cruel, barbarous thing to whip a child. . .
ANY child?" exclaimed Anne, her face flushing with earnestness.
"Well," said Gilbert slowly, torn between his real convictions and
his wish to measure up to Anne's ideal, "there's something to be
said on both sides. I don't believe in whipping children MUCH.
I think, as you say, Anne, that there are better ways of managing
as a rule, and that corporalpunishment should be a last resort.
But on the other hand, as Jane says, I believe there is an occasional
child who can't be influenced in any other way and who, in short,
needs a whipping and would be improved by it. Corporal punishment
as a last resort is to be my rule."
Gilbert, having tried to please both sides, succeeded, as is usual
- childish [´tʃaildiʃ]
a.孩子的；幼稚的 (初中英语单词) - gesture [´dʒestʃə] n.手势 v.打手势 (初中英语单词)
- amazement [ə´meizmənt] n.惊愕；惊奇 (初中英语单词)
- conclusion [kən´klu:ʒən] n.结束；结论；推论 (初中英语单词)
- extraordinary [ik´strɔ:dinəri] a.非常的；额外的 (初中英语单词)
- consequence [´kɔnsikwəns] n.结果；后果；推断 (初中英语单词)
- yesterday [´jestədi] n.&ad.昨天；前不久 (初中英语单词)
- relief [ri´li:f] n.救济；援救；减轻 (初中英语单词)
- upward [´ʌpwəd] a.&ad.向上(的)；以上 (初中英语单词)
- improvement [im´pru:vmənt] n.改进，改善，进步 (初中英语单词)
- kettle [´ketl] n.水壶 (初中英语单词)
- ability [ə´biliti] n.(办事)能力；才干 (初中英语单词)
- reference [´refərəns] n.参考；参照；出处 (初中英语单词)
- temper [´tempə] n.韧度 v.锻炼；调和 (初中英语单词)
- sentence [´sentəns] n.判决 vt.宣判；处刑 (初中英语单词)
- beginning [bi´giniŋ] n.开始，开端；起源 (初中英语单词)
- approve [ə´pru:v] v.赞成；同意；批准 (初中英语单词)
- reckon [´rekən] v.计算；认为；估计 (初中英语单词)
- visible [´vizəbəl] a.可见的；明显的 (初中英语单词)
- sunset [´sʌnset] n.日落；晚霞 (初中英语单词)
- sensation [sen´seiʃən] n.感觉；轰动；轰动一时 (初中英语单词)
- absence [´æbsəns] n.不在，缺席；缺乏 (初中英语单词)
- whenever [wen´evə] conj.&ad.无论何时 (初中英语单词)
- dreadfully [dredfuli] ad.可怕地；糟透地 (初中英语单词)
- gently [´dʒentli] ad.温和地；静静地 (初中英语单词)
- advantage [əd´vɑ:ntidʒ] n.优势；利益 (初中英语单词)
- punish [´pʌniʃ] vt.(惩)罚；痛击；折磨 (初中英语单词)
- measure [´meʒə] n.量度；范围 vt.测量 (初中英语单词)
- punishment [´pʌniʃmənt] n.罚，刑罚 (初中英语单词)
- resort [ri´zɔ:t] vi.求助；乞灵；诉诸 (初中英语单词)
- mighty [´maiti] a.强有力的 ad.很 (高中英语单词)
- confident [´kɔnfidənt] a.有信心的，自信的 (高中英语单词)
- fortunately [´fɔ:tʃənətli] ad.幸运地 (高中英语单词)
- pantry [´pæntri] n.食品室；餐具室 (高中英语单词)
- wisely [´waizli] ad.明智地，聪明地 (高中英语单词)
- ginger [´dʒindʒə] n.姜；精神，元气 (高中英语单词)
- lonesome [´ləunsəm] a.孤独的；冷清清的 (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)
- gorgeous [´gɔ:dʒəs] a.华丽的；宜人的 (高中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- uncomfortable [ʌn´kʌmftəbəl] a.不舒服的，不自在的 (高中英语单词)
- meddle [´medl] vi.干涉(预)；乱弄 (高中英语单词)
- dignified [´dignifaid] a.尊贵的 (高中英语单词)
- unpleasant [ʌn´plezənt] a.不愉快的；不合意的 (高中英语单词)
- spruce [spru:s] n.云杉木 a.&v.整洁 (高中英语单词)
- comfortably [´kʌmfətəbli] ad.舒适地 (高中英语单词)
- briskly [´briskli] ad.轻快地；活泼地 (英语四级单词)
- bouquet [bu:´kei] n.花束；恭维话 (英语四级单词)
- walnut [´wɔ:lnʌt] n.胡桃(树，木) (英语四级单词)
- indignant [in´dignənt] a.义愤的，愤慨的 (英语四级单词)
- dearly [´diəli] ad.深深地(爱等)；昂贵 (英语四级单词)
- morrow [´mɔrəu] n.翌日 (英语四级单词)
- barbarous [´bɑ:bərəs] a.野蛮的；不规范的 (英语四级单词)
- corporal [´kɔ:pərəl] a.肉体的，身体的 (英语四级单词)
- speaking [´spi:kiŋ] n.说话 a.发言的 (英语六级单词)
- latent [´leitənt] a.潜在的，潜伏的 (英语六级单词)
- inexplicable [,inik´splikəbəl] a.难以理解的 (英语六级单词)
- assured [ə´ʃuəd] a.确实的 n.被保险人 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
章节正文
京公网安备 11011202003401号
