章节正文
justice? or does it not sound honestly like a piece of some low dirty
intrigue, of which the very folk that meddle with it are ashamed?"
"I canna gainsay ye, Shaws. It looks unco underhand," says Andie.
"And werenae the folk guid sound Whigs and true-blue Presbyterians I
would has seen them ayont Jordan and Jeroozlem or I would have set hand
to it."
"The Master of Lovat'll be a braw Whig," says I, "and a grand
Presbyterian."
"I ken naething by him," said he. "I hae nae trokings wi' Lovats."
"No, it'll be Prestongrange that you'll be dealing with," said I.
"Ah, but I'll no tell ye that," said Andie.
"Little need when I ken," was my retort.
"There's just the ae thing ye can be fairly sure of, Shaws," says
Andie. "And that is that (try as ye please) I'm no dealing wi'
yoursel'; nor yet I amnae goin' to," he added.
"Well, Andie, I see I'll have to be speak out plain with you," I
replied. And told him so much as I thought needful of the facts.
He heard me out with some serious interest, and when I had done, seemed
to consider a little with himself.
"Shaws," said he at last, "I'll deal with the naked hand. It's a queer
tale, and no very creditable, the way you tell it; and I'm far frae
minting that is other than the way that ye believe it. As for
yoursel', ye seem to me rather a dacent-like young man. But me, that's
aulder and mair judeecious, see perhaps a wee bit further forrit in the
job than what ye can dae. And here the maitter clear and plain to ye.
There'll be nae skaith to yoursel' if I keep ye here; far free that, I
think ye'll be a hantle better by it. There'll be nae skaith to the
kintry - just ae mair Hielantman hangit - Gude kens, a guid riddance!
On the ither hand, it would be considerable skaith to me if I would let
you free. Sae, speakin' as a guid Whig, an honest freen' to you, and
an anxious freen' to my ainsel', the plain fact is that I think ye'll
just have to bide here wi' Andie an' the solans."
"Andie," said I, laying my hand upon his knee, "this Hielantman's
innocent."
"Ay, it's a peety about that," said he. "But ye see, in this warld,
the way God made it, we cannae just get a'thing that we want."
CHAPTER XV - BLACK ANDIE'S TALE OF TOD LAPRAIK
I HAVE yet said little of the Highlanders. They were all three of the
followers of James More, which bound the accusation very tight about
their master's neck. All understood a word or two of English, but Neil
was the only one who judged he had enough of it for general converse,
in which (when once he got embarked) his company was often tempted to
the contrary opinion. They were tractable, simple creatures; showed
much more courtesy than might have been expected from their raggedness
and their uncouth appearance, and fell spontaneously to be like three
servants for Andie and myself.
Dwelling in that isolated place, in the old falling ruins of a prison,
and among endless strange sounds of the sea and the sea-birds, I
thought I perceived in them early the effects of superstitious fear.
When there was nothing doing they would either lie and sleep, for which
their appetite appeared insatiable, or Neil would entertain the others
with stories which seemed always of a terrifying strain. If neither of
these delights were within reach - if perhaps two were sleeping and the
third could find no means to follow their example - I would see him sit
and listen and look about him in a progression of uneasiness, starting,
his face blenching, his hands clutched, a man strung like a bow. The
nature of these fears I had never an occasion to find out, but the
sight of them was catching, and the nature of the place that we were in
favourable to alarms. I can find no word for it in the English, but
Andie had an expression for it in the Scots from which he never varied.
"Ay," he would say, "ITS AN UNCO PLACE, THE BASS."
It is so I always think of it. It was an unco place by night, unco by
day; and these were unco sounds, of the calling of the solans, and the
plash of the sea and the rock echoes, that hung continually in our
ears. It was chiefly so in moderate weather. When the waves were
anyway great they roared about the rock like thunder and the drums of
armies, dreadful but merry to hear; and it was in the calm days that a
man could daunt himself with listening - not a Highlandman only, as I
several times experimented on myself, so many still, hollow noises
haunted and reverberated in the porches of the rock.
This brings me to a story I heard, and a scene I took part in, which
quite changed our terms of living, and had a great effect on my
departure. It chanced one night I fell in a muse beside the fire and
(that little air of Alan's coming back to my memory) began to whistle.
A hand was laid upon my arm, and the voice of Neil bade me to stop, for
it was not "canny musics."
"Not canny?" I asked. "How can that be?"
"Na," said he; "it will be made by a bogle and her wanting ta heid upon
his body."
"Well," said I, "there can be no bogles here, Neil; for it's not likely
they would fash themselves to frighten geese."
"Ay?" says Andie, "is that what ye think of it! But I'll can tell ye
there's been waur nor bogles here."
"What's waur than bogles, Andie?" said I.
"Warlocks," said he. "Or a warlock at the least of it. And that's a
queer tale, too," he added. "And if ye would like, I'll tell it ye."
To be sure we were all of the one mind, and even the Highlander that
had the least English of the three set himself to listen with all his
might.
THE TALE OF TOD LAPRAIK
MY faither, Tam Dale, peace to his banes, was a wild, sploring lad in
his young days, wi' little wisdom and little grace. He was fond of a
lass and fond of a glass, and fond of a ran-dan; but I could never hear
tell that he was muckle use for honest employment. Frae ae thing to
anither, he listed at last for a sodger and was in the garrison of this
fort, which was the first way that ony of the Dales cam to set foot
upon the Bass. Sorrow upon that service! The governor brewed his ain
ale; it seems it was the warst conceivable. The rock was proveesioned
free the shore with vivers, the thing was ill-guided, and there were
whiles when they but to fish and shoot solans for their diet. To crown
a', thir was the Days of the Persecution. The perishin' cauld chalmers
were all occupeed wi' sants and martyrs, the saut of the yearth, of
which it wasnae worthy. And though Tam Dale carried a firelock there,
a single sodger, and liked a lass and a glass, as I was sayin,' the
mind of the man was mair just than set with his position. He had
glints of the glory of the kirk; there were whiles when his dander rase
to see the Lord's sants misguided, and shame covered him that he should
be haulding a can'le (or carrying a firelock) in so black a business.
There were nights of it when he was here on sentry, the place a'
wheesht, the frosts o' winter maybe riving in the wa's, and he would
hear ane o' the prisoners strike up a psalm, and the rest join in, and
the blessed sounds rising from the different chalmers - or dungeons, I
would raither say - so that this auld craig in the sea was like a pairt
of Heev'n. Black shame was on his saul; his sins hove up before him
muckle as the Bass, and above a', that chief sin, that he should have a
hand in hagging and hashing at Christ's Kirk. But the truth is that he
resisted the spirit. Day cam, there were the rousing compainions, and
his guid resolves depairtit.
In thir days, dwalled upon the Bass a man of God, Peden the Prophet was
his name. Ye'll have heard tell of Prophet Peden. There was never the
wale of him sinsyne, and it's a question wi' mony if there ever was his
like afore. He was wild's a peat-hag, fearsome to look at, fearsome to
hear, his face like the day of judgment. The voice of him was like a
solan's and dinnle'd in folks' lugs, and the words of him like coals of
fire.
Now there was a lass on the rock, and I think she had little to do, for
it was nae place far decent weemen; but it seems she was bonny, and her
and Tam Dale were very well agreed. It befell that Peden was in the
gairden his lane at the praying when Tam and the lass cam by; and what
should the lassie do but mock with laughter at the sant's devotions?
He rose and lookit at the twa o' them, and Tam's knees knoitered
thegether at the look of him. But whan he spak, it was mair in sorrow
than in anger. 'Poor thing, poor thing!" says he, and it was the lass
he lookit at, "I hear you skirl and laugh," he says, "but the Lord has
a deid shot prepared for you, and at that surprising judgment ye shall
skirl but the ae time!" Shortly thereafter she was daundering on the
craigs wi' twa-three sodgers, and it was a blawy day. There cam a
gowst of wind, claught her by the coats, and awa' wi' her bag and
baggage. And it was remarked by the sodgers that she gied but the ae
skirl.
Nae doubt this judgment had some weicht upon Tam Dale; but it passed
again and him none the better. Ae day he was flyting wi' anither
sodger-lad. "Deil hae me!" quo' Tam, for he was a profane swearer.
And there was Peden glowering at him, gash an' waefu'; Peden wi' his
lang chafts an' luntin' een, the maud happed about his kist, and the
hand of him held out wi' the black nails upon the finger-nebs - for he
had nae care of the body. "Fy, fy, poor man!" cries he, "the poor fool
man! DEIL HAE ME, quo' he; an' I see the deil at his oxter." The
conviction of guilt and grace cam in on Tam like the deep sea; he flang
doun the pike that was in his hands - "I will nae mair lift arms
against the cause o' Christ!" says he, and was as gude's word. There
was a sair fyke in the beginning, but the governor, seeing him
resolved, gied him his discharge, and he went and dwallt and merried in
North Berwick, and had aye a gude name with honest folk free that day
on.
It was in the year seeventeen hunner and sax that the Bass cam in the
hands o' the Da'rymples, and there was twa men soucht the chairge of
it. Baith were weel qualified, for they had baith been sodgers in the
garrison, and kent the gate to handle solans, and the seasons and
values of them. Forby that they were baith - or they baith seemed -
earnest professors and men of comely conversation. The first of them
was just Tam Dale, my faither. The second was ane Lapraik, whom the
folk ca'd Tod Lapraik maistly, but whether for his name or his nature I
could never hear tell. Weel, Tam gaed to see Lapraik upon this
business, and took me, that was a toddlin' laddie, by the hand. Tod
had his dwallin' in the lang loan benorth the kirkyaird. It's a dark
uncanny loan, forby that the kirk has aye had an ill name since the
days o' James the Saxt and the deevil's cantrips played therein when
the Queen was on the seas; and as for Tod's house, it was in the
mirkest end, and was little liked by some that kenned the best. The
door was on the sneck that day, and me and my faither gaed straucht in.
Tod was a wabster to his trade; his loom stood in the but. There he
sat, a muckle fat, white hash of a man like creish, wi' a kind of a
holy smile that gart me scunner. The hand of him aye cawed the
shuttle, but his een was steeked. We cried to him by his name, we
skirted in the deid lug of him, we shook him by the shou'ther. Nae
mainner o' service! There he sat on his dowp, an' cawed the shuttle
and smiled like creish.
"God be guid to us," says Tam Dale, "this is no canny?"
He had jimp said the word, when Tod Lapraik cam to himsel'.
"Is this you, Tam?" says he. "Haith, man! I'm blythe to see ye. I
whiles fa' into a bit dwam like this," he says; "its frae the stamach."
Weel, they began to crack about the Bass and which of them twa was to
get the warding o't, and little by little cam to very ill words, and
twined in anger. I mind weel that as my faither and me gaed hame
again, he cam ower and ower the same expression, how little he likit
Tod Lapraik and his dwams.
"Dwam!" says he. "I think folk hae brunt for dwams like yon."
Aweel, my faither got the Bass and Tod had to go wantin'. It was
remembered sinsyne what way he had ta'en the thing. "Tam," says he,
"ye hae gotten the better o' me aince mair, and I hope," says he,
"ye'll find at least a' that ye expeckit at the Bass." Which have
since been thought remarkable expressions. At last the time came for
Tam Dale to take young solans. This was a business he was weel used
wi', he had been a craigsman frae a laddie, and trustit nane but
himsel'. So there was he hingin' by a line an' speldering on the craig
face, whaur its hieest and steighest. Fower tenty lads were on the
tap, hauldin' the line and mindin' for his signals. But whaur Tam hung
there was naething but the craig, and the sea belaw, and the solans
skirlin and flying. It was a braw spring morn, and Tam whustled as he
claught in the young geese. Mony's the time I've heard him tell of
intrigue, of which the very folk that meddle with it are ashamed?"
"I canna gainsay ye, Shaws. It looks unco underhand," says Andie.
"And werenae the folk guid sound Whigs and true-blue Presbyterians I
would has seen them ayont Jordan and Jeroozlem or I would have set hand
to it."
"The Master of Lovat'll be a braw Whig," says I, "and a grand
Presbyterian."
"I ken naething by him," said he. "I hae nae trokings wi' Lovats."
"No, it'll be Prestongrange that you'll be dealing with," said I.
"Ah, but I'll no tell ye that," said Andie.
"Little need when I ken," was my retort.
"There's just the ae thing ye can be fairly sure of, Shaws," says
Andie. "And that is that (try as ye please) I'm no dealing wi'
yoursel'; nor yet I amnae goin' to," he added.
"Well, Andie, I see I'll have to be speak out plain with you," I
replied. And told him so much as I thought needful of the facts.
He heard me out with some serious interest, and when I had done, seemed
to consider a little with himself.
"Shaws," said he at last, "I'll deal with the naked hand. It's a queer
tale, and no very creditable, the way you tell it; and I'm far frae
minting that is other than the way that ye believe it. As for
yoursel', ye seem to me rather a dacent-like young man. But me, that's
aulder and mair judeecious, see perhaps a wee bit further forrit in the
job than what ye can dae. And here the maitter clear and plain to ye.
There'll be nae skaith to yoursel' if I keep ye here; far free that, I
think ye'll be a hantle better by it. There'll be nae skaith to the
kintry - just ae mair Hielantman hangit - Gude kens, a guid riddance!
On the ither hand, it would be considerable skaith to me if I would let
you free. Sae, speakin' as a guid Whig, an honest freen' to you, and
an anxious freen' to my ainsel', the plain fact is that I think ye'll
just have to bide here wi' Andie an' the solans."
"Andie," said I, laying my hand upon his knee, "this Hielantman's
innocent."
"Ay, it's a peety about that," said he. "But ye see, in this warld,
the way God made it, we cannae just get a'thing that we want."
CHAPTER XV - BLACK ANDIE'S TALE OF TOD LAPRAIK
I HAVE yet said little of the Highlanders. They were all three of the
followers of James More, which bound the accusation very tight about
their master's neck. All understood a word or two of English, but Neil
was the only one who judged he had enough of it for general converse,
in which (when once he got embarked) his company was often tempted to
the contrary opinion. They were tractable, simple creatures; showed
much more courtesy than might have been expected from their raggedness
and their uncouth appearance, and fell spontaneously to be like three
servants for Andie and myself.
Dwelling in that isolated place, in the old falling ruins of a prison,
and among endless strange sounds of the sea and the sea-birds, I
thought I perceived in them early the effects of superstitious fear.
When there was nothing doing they would either lie and sleep, for which
their appetite appeared insatiable, or Neil would entertain the others
with stories which seemed always of a terrifying strain. If neither of
these delights were within reach - if perhaps two were sleeping and the
third could find no means to follow their example - I would see him sit
and listen and look about him in a progression of uneasiness, starting,
his face blenching, his hands clutched, a man strung like a bow. The
nature of these fears I had never an occasion to find out, but the
sight of them was catching, and the nature of the place that we were in
favourable to alarms. I can find no word for it in the English, but
Andie had an expression for it in the Scots from which he never varied.
"Ay," he would say, "ITS AN UNCO PLACE, THE BASS."
It is so I always think of it. It was an unco place by night, unco by
day; and these were unco sounds, of the calling of the solans, and the
plash of the sea and the rock echoes, that hung continually in our
ears. It was chiefly so in moderate weather. When the waves were
anyway great they roared about the rock like thunder and the drums of
armies, dreadful but merry to hear; and it was in the calm days that a
man could daunt himself with listening - not a Highlandman only, as I
several times experimented on myself, so many still, hollow noises
haunted and reverberated in the porches of the rock.
This brings me to a story I heard, and a scene I took part in, which
quite changed our terms of living, and had a great effect on my
departure. It chanced one night I fell in a muse beside the fire and
(that little air of Alan's coming back to my memory) began to whistle.
A hand was laid upon my arm, and the voice of Neil bade me to stop, for
it was not "canny musics."
"Not canny?" I asked. "How can that be?"
"Na," said he; "it will be made by a bogle and her wanting ta heid upon
his body."
"Well," said I, "there can be no bogles here, Neil; for it's not likely
they would fash themselves to frighten geese."
"Ay?" says Andie, "is that what ye think of it! But I'll can tell ye
there's been waur nor bogles here."
"What's waur than bogles, Andie?" said I.
"Warlocks," said he. "Or a warlock at the least of it. And that's a
queer tale, too," he added. "And if ye would like, I'll tell it ye."
To be sure we were all of the one mind, and even the Highlander that
had the least English of the three set himself to listen with all his
might.
THE TALE OF TOD LAPRAIK
MY faither, Tam Dale, peace to his banes, was a wild, sploring lad in
his young days, wi' little wisdom and little grace. He was fond of a
lass and fond of a glass, and fond of a ran-dan; but I could never hear
tell that he was muckle use for honest employment. Frae ae thing to
anither, he listed at last for a sodger and was in the garrison of this
fort, which was the first way that ony of the Dales cam to set foot
upon the Bass. Sorrow upon that service! The governor brewed his ain
ale; it seems it was the warst conceivable. The rock was proveesioned
free the shore with vivers, the thing was ill-guided, and there were
whiles when they but to fish and shoot solans for their diet. To crown
a', thir was the Days of the Persecution. The perishin' cauld chalmers
were all occupeed wi' sants and martyrs, the saut of the yearth, of
which it wasnae worthy. And though Tam Dale carried a firelock there,
a single sodger, and liked a lass and a glass, as I was sayin,' the
mind of the man was mair just than set with his position. He had
glints of the glory of the kirk; there were whiles when his dander rase
to see the Lord's sants misguided, and shame covered him that he should
be haulding a can'le (or carrying a firelock) in so black a business.
There were nights of it when he was here on sentry, the place a'
wheesht, the frosts o' winter maybe riving in the wa's, and he would
hear ane o' the prisoners strike up a psalm, and the rest join in, and
the blessed sounds rising from the different chalmers - or dungeons, I
would raither say - so that this auld craig in the sea was like a pairt
of Heev'n. Black shame was on his saul; his sins hove up before him
muckle as the Bass, and above a', that chief sin, that he should have a
hand in hagging and hashing at Christ's Kirk. But the truth is that he
resisted the spirit. Day cam, there were the rousing compainions, and
his guid resolves depairtit.
In thir days, dwalled upon the Bass a man of God, Peden the Prophet was
his name. Ye'll have heard tell of Prophet Peden. There was never the
wale of him sinsyne, and it's a question wi' mony if there ever was his
like afore. He was wild's a peat-hag, fearsome to look at, fearsome to
hear, his face like the day of judgment. The voice of him was like a
solan's and dinnle'd in folks' lugs, and the words of him like coals of
fire.
Now there was a lass on the rock, and I think she had little to do, for
it was nae place far decent weemen; but it seems she was bonny, and her
and Tam Dale were very well agreed. It befell that Peden was in the
gairden his lane at the praying when Tam and the lass cam by; and what
should the lassie do but mock with laughter at the sant's devotions?
He rose and lookit at the twa o' them, and Tam's knees knoitered
thegether at the look of him. But whan he spak, it was mair in sorrow
than in anger. 'Poor thing, poor thing!" says he, and it was the lass
he lookit at, "I hear you skirl and laugh," he says, "but the Lord has
a deid shot prepared for you, and at that surprising judgment ye shall
skirl but the ae time!" Shortly thereafter she was daundering on the
craigs wi' twa-three sodgers, and it was a blawy day. There cam a
gowst of wind, claught her by the coats, and awa' wi' her bag and
baggage. And it was remarked by the sodgers that she gied but the ae
skirl.
Nae doubt this judgment had some weicht upon Tam Dale; but it passed
again and him none the better. Ae day he was flyting wi' anither
sodger-lad. "Deil hae me!" quo' Tam, for he was a profane swearer.
And there was Peden glowering at him, gash an' waefu'; Peden wi' his
lang chafts an' luntin' een, the maud happed about his kist, and the
hand of him held out wi' the black nails upon the finger-nebs - for he
had nae care of the body. "Fy, fy, poor man!" cries he, "the poor fool
man! DEIL HAE ME, quo' he; an' I see the deil at his oxter." The
conviction of guilt and grace cam in on Tam like the deep sea; he flang
doun the pike that was in his hands - "I will nae mair lift arms
against the cause o' Christ!" says he, and was as gude's word. There
was a sair fyke in the beginning, but the governor, seeing him
resolved, gied him his discharge, and he went and dwallt and merried in
North Berwick, and had aye a gude name with honest folk free that day
on.
It was in the year seeventeen hunner and sax that the Bass cam in the
hands o' the Da'rymples, and there was twa men soucht the chairge of
it. Baith were weel qualified, for they had baith been sodgers in the
garrison, and kent the gate to handle solans, and the seasons and
values of them. Forby that they were baith - or they baith seemed -
earnest professors and men of comely conversation. The first of them
was just Tam Dale, my faither. The second was ane Lapraik, whom the
folk ca'd Tod Lapraik maistly, but whether for his name or his nature I
could never hear tell. Weel, Tam gaed to see Lapraik upon this
business, and took me, that was a toddlin' laddie, by the hand. Tod
had his dwallin' in the lang loan benorth the kirkyaird. It's a dark
uncanny loan, forby that the kirk has aye had an ill name since the
days o' James the Saxt and the deevil's cantrips played therein when
the Queen was on the seas; and as for Tod's house, it was in the
mirkest end, and was little liked by some that kenned the best. The
door was on the sneck that day, and me and my faither gaed straucht in.
Tod was a wabster to his trade; his loom stood in the but. There he
sat, a muckle fat, white hash of a man like creish, wi' a kind of a
holy smile that gart me scunner. The hand of him aye cawed the
shuttle, but his een was steeked. We cried to him by his name, we
skirted in the deid lug of him, we shook him by the shou'ther. Nae
mainner o' service! There he sat on his dowp, an' cawed the shuttle
and smiled like creish.
"God be guid to us," says Tam Dale, "this is no canny?"
He had jimp said the word, when Tod Lapraik cam to himsel'.
"Is this you, Tam?" says he. "Haith, man! I'm blythe to see ye. I
whiles fa' into a bit dwam like this," he says; "its frae the stamach."
Weel, they began to crack about the Bass and which of them twa was to
get the warding o't, and little by little cam to very ill words, and
twined in anger. I mind weel that as my faither and me gaed hame
again, he cam ower and ower the same expression, how little he likit
Tod Lapraik and his dwams.
"Dwam!" says he. "I think folk hae brunt for dwams like yon."
Aweel, my faither got the Bass and Tod had to go wantin'. It was
remembered sinsyne what way he had ta'en the thing. "Tam," says he,
"ye hae gotten the better o' me aince mair, and I hope," says he,
"ye'll find at least a' that ye expeckit at the Bass." Which have
since been thought remarkable expressions. At last the time came for
Tam Dale to take young solans. This was a business he was weel used
wi', he had been a craigsman frae a laddie, and trustit nane but
himsel'. So there was he hingin' by a line an' speldering on the craig
face, whaur its hieest and steighest. Fower tenty lads were on the
tap, hauldin' the line and mindin' for his signals. But whaur Tam hung
there was naething but the craig, and the sea belaw, and the solans
skirlin and flying. It was a braw spring morn, and Tam whustled as he
claught in the young geese. Mony's the time I've heard him tell of
- honestly [´ɔnistli]
ad.诚实地，老实地 (初中英语单词) - considerable [kən´sidərəbəl] a.重要的；值得重视 (初中英语单词)
- anxious [´æŋkʃəs] a.担忧的；渴望的 (初中英语单词)
- contrary [´kɔntrəri] a.相反的 n.相反 (初中英语单词)
- appetite [´æpitait] n.欲望；食欲 (初中英语单词)
- entertain [,entə´tein] vt.招待；娱乐；使高兴 (初中英语单词)
- sleeping [´sli:piŋ] n.&a.睡着(的) (初中英语单词)
- chiefly [´tʃi:fli] ad.主要地；尤其 (初中英语单词)
- moderate [´mɔdərit] a.适度的n.温和主义者 (初中英语单词)
- thunder [´θʌndə] n.雷 vi.打雷 vt.吼出 (初中英语单词)
- dreadful [´dredful] a.可怕的；讨厌的 (初中英语单词)
- frighten [´fraitn] vt.吓唬，使惊惧 (初中英语单词)
- wisdom [´wizdəm] n.智慧，聪明，才智 (初中英语单词)
- employment [im´plɔimənt] n.工作；职业；雇用 (初中英语单词)
- governor [´gʌvənə] n.总督；州长 (初中英语单词)
- worthy [´wə:ði] a.有价值的；值得的 (初中英语单词)
- prophet [´prɔfit] n.预言家；先知；提倡者 (初中英语单词)
- laughter [´lɑ:ftə] n.笑，笑声 (初中英语单词)
- surprising [sə´praiziŋ] a.惊人的；意外的 (初中英语单词)
- shortly [´ʃɔ:tli] ad.立刻，马上；不久 (初中英语单词)
- beginning [bi´giniŋ] n.开始，开端；起源 (初中英语单词)
- discharge [dis´tʃɑ:dʒ] vt.&n.卸货；释放；解雇 (初中英语单词)
- remarkable [ri´mɑ:kəbl] a.值得注意的；显著的 (初中英语单词)
- meddle [´medl] vi.干涉(预)；乱弄 (高中英语单词)
- dealing [´di:liŋ] n.交易；来往 (高中英语单词)
- courtesy [´kə:tisi] n.礼貌；殷勤；好意 (高中英语单词)
- strain [strein] vt.拉紧 vi.拖 n.张力 (高中英语单词)
- continually [kən´tinjuəli] ad.不断地，频繁地 (高中英语单词)
- garrison [´gærisən] n.警备队 vt.驻防 (高中英语单词)
- decent [´di:sənt] a.体面的，正派的 (高中英语单词)
- thereafter [ðeə´rɑ:ftə] adv.此后，其后 (高中英语单词)
- seeing [si:iŋ] see的现在分词 n.视觉 (高中英语单词)
- therein [ðeə´rin] ad.在那里，在其中 (高中英语单词)
- jordan [´dʒɔ:dn] n.约旦 (英语四级单词)
- accusation [ækju:´zeiʃən] n.谴责；告发 (英语四级单词)
- superstitious [,sju:pə´stiʃəs] a.迷信的 (英语四级单词)
- uneasiness [ʌn´i:zinis] n.不安，担忧；不自在 (英语四级单词)
- conceivable [kən´si:vəbəl] a.可想象得出的 (英语四级单词)
- persecution [,pə:si´kju:ʃən] n.迫害；残害；困扰 (英语四级单词)
- blessed [´blesid] a.享福的；神圣的 (英语四级单词)
- befell [bi´fel] befall的过去式 (英语四级单词)
- profane [prə´fein] a.亵渎的 vt.玷污 (英语四级单词)
- comely [´kʌmli] a.秀丽的；文雅的 (英语四级单词)
- gotten [´gɔtn] get的过去分词 (英语四级单词)
- uncouth [ʌn´ku:θ] a.粗野的；笨拙的 (英语六级单词)
- calling [´kɔ:liŋ] n.点名；职业；欲望 (英语六级单词)
- wanting [´wɔntiŋ, wɑ:n-] a.短缺的；不足的 (英语六级单词)
- sentry [´sentri] n.哨兵 v.站岗，放哨 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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