章节正文
and which brought a response from every man in the dressing-room.
Someone asked promptly how long we should be there. `I can't tell you, sir,
but some little time; several hours.' There was a groan. `You'll have time
to go over the battle-field,' said the Captain, still cheerily.
`We are close to the field of one of the bitterest battles of the war.'
And then he proceeded to tell us about it briefly. He said, in answer to
a question, that he had been in it. `On which side, Captain?' asked someone.
`Sir!' with some surprise in his voice. `On which side?' `On our side, sir,
of course.' We decided to go over the field, and after breakfast we did.
"The Captain walked with us over the ground and showed us
the lines of attack and defence; pointed out where the heaviest fighting
was done, and gave a graphicaccount of the whole campaign.
It was the only battle-field I had ever been over, and I was
so much interested that when I got home I read up the campaign,
and that set me to reading up on the whole subject of the war.
We walked back over the hills, and I never enjoyed a walk more.
I felt as if I had got new strength from the cold air.
The old fellow stopped at a little house on our way back,
and went in whilst we waited. When he came out he had a little bouquet
of geranium leaves and lemon verbena which he had got. I had noticed them
in the window as we went by, and when I saw the way the sick lady looked
when he gave them to her, I wished I had brought them instead of him.
Some one intent on knowledge asked him how much he paid for them?
"He said, `Paid for them! Nothing.'
"`Did you know them before?' he asked.
"`No, sir.' That was all.
"A little while afterwards I saw him asleep in a seat,
but when the train started he got up.
"The old Captain by this time owned the car. He was not only an official,
he was a host, and he did the honors as if he were in his own house
and we were his guests; all was done so quietly and unobtrusively, too;
he pulled up a blind here, and drew one down there, just a few inches,
`to give you a little more light on your book, sir'; -- `to shut out a little
of the glare, madam -- reading on the cars is a little more trying to the eyes
than one is apt to fancy.' He stopped to lean over and tell you
that if you looked out of your window you would see what he thought
one of the prettiest views in the world; or to mention the fact
that on the right was one of the most celebrated old places in the State,
a plantation which had once belonged to Colonel So-and-So,
`one of the most remarkable men of his day, sir.'
"His porter, Nicholas, was his admirable second; not a porter at all,
but a body-servant; as different from the ordinary Pullman-car porter
as light from darkness. In fact, it turned out that he had been
an old servant of the Captain's. I happened to speak of him to the Captain,
and he said: `Yes, sir, he's a very good boy; I raised him, or rather,
my father did; he comes of a good stock; plenty of sense and know
their places. When I came on the road they gave me a mulatto fellow
whom I couldn't stand, one of these young, new, "free-issue" some call them,
sir, I believe; I couldn't stand him, I got rid of him.' I asked him
what was the trouble. `Oh! no trouble at all, sir; he just didn't know
his place, and I taught him. He could read and write a little --
a negro is very apt to think, sir, that if he can write he is educated --
he could write, and thought he was educated; he chewed a toothpick
and thought he was a gentleman. I soon taught him better.
He was impertinent, and I put him off the train. After that I told them
that I must have my own servant if I was to remain with them, and I got Nick.
He is an excellent boy (he was about fifty-five). The black is
a capital servant, sir, when he has sense, far better than the mulatto.'
"I became very intimate with the old fellow. You could not help it.
He had a way about him that drew you out. I told him I was going
to New Orleans to pay a visit to friends there. He said,
`Got a sweetheart there?' I was rather taken aback; but I told him, `Yes.'
He said he knew it as soon as I spoke to him on the platform.
He asked me who she was, and I told him her name. He said to me,
`Ah! you lucky dog.' I told him I did not know that I was not most unlucky,
for I had no reason to think she was going to marry me. He said,
`You tell her I say you'll be all right.' I felt better,
especially when the old chap said, `I'll tell her so myself.' He knew her.
She always travelled with him when she came North, he said.
"I did not know at all that I was all right; in fact,
I was rather low down just then about my chances, which was the only reason
I was so anxious to go to New Orleans, and I wanted just that encouragement
and it helped me mightily. I began to think Christmas on the cars
wasn't quite so bad after all. He drew me on, and before I knew it
I had told him all about myself. It was the queerest thing;
I had no idea in the world of talking about my matters.
I had hardly ever spoken of her to a soul; but the old chap had a way
of making you feel that he would be certain to understand you,
and could help you. He told me about his own case, and it wasn't
so different from mine. He lived in Virginia before the war;
came from up near Lynchburg somewhere; belonged to an old family there,
and had been in love with his sweetheart for years, but could never
make any impression on her. She was a beautiful girl, he said,
and the greatest belle in the country round. Her father was one
of the big lawyers there, and had a fine old place, and the stable was always
full of horses of the young fellows who used to be coming to see her,
and `she used to make me sick, I tell you,' he said, `I used to hate 'em all;
I wasn't afraid of 'em; but I used to hate a man to look at her; it seemed
so impudent in him; and I'd have been jealous if she had looked at the sun.
Well, I didn't know what to do. I'd have been ready to fight 'em all for her,
if that would have done any good, but it wouldn't; I didn't have any right
to get mad with 'em for loving her, and if I had got into a row
she'd have sent me off in a jiffy. But just then the war came on,
and it was a Godsend to me. I went in first thing. I made up my mind
to go in and fight like five thousand furies, and I thought maybe that
would win her, and it did; it worked first-rate. I went in as a private,
and I got a bullet through me in about six months, through my right lung,
that laid me off for a year or so; then I went back and the boys made me
a lieutenant, and when the captain was made a major, I was made captain.
I was offered something higher once or twice, but I thought I'd rather stay
with my company; I knew the boys, and they knew me, and we had got
sort of used to each other -- to depending on each other, as it were.
The war fixed me all right, though. When I went home that first time
my wife had come right around, and as soon as I was well enough
we were married. I always said if I could find that Yankee that shot me
I'd like to make him a present. I found out that the great trouble with me
had been that I had not been bold enough; I used to let her go her own way
too much, and seemed to be afraid of her. I WAS afraid of her, too.
I bet that's your trouble, sir: are you afraid of her?'
I told him I thought I was. `Well, sir,' he said, `it will never do;
you mustn't let her think that -- never. You cannot help being afraid of her,
for every man is that; but it is fatal to let her know it. Stand up, sir,
stand up for your rights. If you are bound to get down on your knees --
and every man feels that he is -- don't do it; get up and run out
and roll in the dust outside somewhere where she can't see you. Why, sir,'
he said, `it doesn't do to even let her think she's having her own way;
half the time she's only testing you, and she doesn't really want
what she pretends to want. Of course, I'm speaking of before marriage;
after marriage she always wants it, and she's going to have it, anyway,
and the sooner you find that out and give in, the better.
You must consider this, however, that her way after marriage
is always laid down to her with reference to your good.
She thinks about you a great deal more than you do about her,
and she's always working out something that is for your advantage;
she'll let you do some things as you wish, just to make you believe you are
having your own way, but she's just been pretending to think otherwise,
to make you feel good.'
"This sounded so much like sense that I asked him how much
a man ought to stand from a woman. `Stand, sir?' he said;
`why, everything, everything that does not take away his self-respect.'
I said I believed if he'd let a woman do it she'd wipe her shoes on him.
`Why, of course she will,' he said, `and why shouldn't she?
A man is not good enough for a good woman to wipe her shoes on.
But if she's the right sort of a woman she won't do it in company,
and she won't let others do it at all; she'll keep you for her own wiping.'"
"There's a lot of sense in that, Lesponts," said one of his auditors,
at which there was a universal smile of assent. Lesponts said he had
found it out, and proceeded.
"Well, we got to a little town in Virginia, I forget the name of it,
where we had to stop a short time. The Captain had told me that his home
was not far from there, and his old company was raised around there.
Quite a number of the old fellows lived about there yet, he said,
and he saw some of them nearly every time he passed through,
as they `kept the run of him.' He did not know that he'd `find any of them
out to-day, as it was Christmas, and they would all be at home,' he said.
As the train drew up I went out on the platform, however,
and there was quite a crowd assembled. I was surprised to find it so quiet,
for at other places through which we had passed they had been
having high jinks: firing off crackers and making things lively.
Here the crowd seemed to be quiet and solemn, and I heard the Captain's name.
Just then he came out on the platform, and someone called out:
`There he is, now!' and in a second such a cheer went up as you never heard.
They crowded around the old fellow and shook hands with him and hugged him
as if he had been a girl."
"I suppose you have reference to the time before you were married,"
interrupted someone, but Lesponts did not heed him. He went on:
"It seemed the rumor had got out that morning that it was the Captain's train
that had gone off the track and that the Captain had been killed in the wreck,
and this crowd had assembled to meet the body. `We were going to give you
a big funeral, Captain,' said one old fellow; `they've got you
while you are living, but we claim you when you are dead.
We ain't going to let 'em have you then. We're going to put you to sleep
in old Virginia.'
"The old fellow was much affected, and made them a little speech.
He introduced us to them all. He said: `Gentlemen, these are my boys,
my neighbors and family;' and then, `Boys, these are my friends;
I don't know all their names yet, but they are my friends.'
And we were. He rushed off to send a telegram to his wife in New Orleans,
because, as he said afterwards, she, too, might get hold of the report
that he had been killed; and a Christmas message would set her up, anyhow.
She'd be a little low down at his not getting there, he said,
as he had never missed a Christmas-day at home since '64.
"When dinner-time came he was invited in by pretty nearly everyone in the car,
but he declined; he said he had to attend to a matter.
I was going in with a party, but I thought the old fellow would be lonely,
so I waited and insisted on his dining with me. I found that it had
occurred to him that a bowl of eggnogg would make it seem more like Christmas,
and he had telegraphed ahead to a friend at a little place
to have `the materials' ready. Well, they were on hand when we got there,
and we took them aboard, and the old fellow made one of the finest eggnoggs
you ever tasted in your life. The rest of the passengers had no idea
of what was going on, and when the old chap came in with a big bowl,
wreathed in holly, borne by Nick, and the old Captain marching behind,
there was quite a cheer. It was offered to the ladies first, of course,
and then the men assembled in the smoker and the Captain did the honors.
He did them handsomely, too: made us one of the prettiest little speeches
you ever heard; said that Christmas was not dependent on the fireplace,
however much a roaring fire might contribute to it; that it was in
everyone's heart and might be enjoyed as well in a railway-car as in a hall,
and that in this time of change and movement it behooved us all to try
and keep up what was good and cheerful and bound us together,
and to remember that Christmas was not only a time for merry-making,
but was the time when the Saviour of the world came among men to bring
peace and good-will, and that we should remember all our friends everywhere.
`And, gentlemen,' he said, `there are two toasts I always like to propose
at this time, and which I will ask you to drink. The first is to my wife.'
It was drunk, you may believe. `And the second is, "My friends:
all mankind."' This too, was drunk, and just then someone noticed
that the old fellow had nothing but a little water in his glass.
`Why, Captain,' he said, `you are not drinking! that is not fair.'
`Well, no, sir,' said the old fellow, `I never drink anything on duty;
Someone asked promptly how long we should be there. `I can't tell you, sir,
but some little time; several hours.' There was a groan. `You'll have time
to go over the battle-field,' said the Captain, still cheerily.
`We are close to the field of one of the bitterest battles of the war.'
And then he proceeded to tell us about it briefly. He said, in answer to
a question, that he had been in it. `On which side, Captain?' asked someone.
`Sir!' with some surprise in his voice. `On which side?' `On our side, sir,
of course.' We decided to go over the field, and after breakfast we did.
"The Captain walked with us over the ground and showed us
the lines of attack and defence; pointed out where the heaviest fighting
was done, and gave a graphicaccount of the whole campaign.
It was the only battle-field I had ever been over, and I was
so much interested that when I got home I read up the campaign,
and that set me to reading up on the whole subject of the war.
We walked back over the hills, and I never enjoyed a walk more.
I felt as if I had got new strength from the cold air.
The old fellow stopped at a little house on our way back,
and went in whilst we waited. When he came out he had a little bouquet
of geranium leaves and lemon verbena which he had got. I had noticed them
in the window as we went by, and when I saw the way the sick lady looked
when he gave them to her, I wished I had brought them instead of him.
Some one intent on knowledge asked him how much he paid for them?
"He said, `Paid for them! Nothing.'
"`Did you know them before?' he asked.
"`No, sir.' That was all.
"A little while afterwards I saw him asleep in a seat,
but when the train started he got up.
"The old Captain by this time owned the car. He was not only an official,
he was a host, and he did the honors as if he were in his own house
and we were his guests; all was done so quietly and unobtrusively, too;
he pulled up a blind here, and drew one down there, just a few inches,
`to give you a little more light on your book, sir'; -- `to shut out a little
of the glare, madam -- reading on the cars is a little more trying to the eyes
than one is apt to fancy.' He stopped to lean over and tell you
that if you looked out of your window you would see what he thought
one of the prettiest views in the world; or to mention the fact
that on the right was one of the most celebrated old places in the State,
a plantation which had once belonged to Colonel So-and-So,
`one of the most remarkable men of his day, sir.'
"His porter, Nicholas, was his admirable second; not a porter at all,
but a body-servant; as different from the ordinary Pullman-car porter
as light from darkness. In fact, it turned out that he had been
an old servant of the Captain's. I happened to speak of him to the Captain,
and he said: `Yes, sir, he's a very good boy; I raised him, or rather,
my father did; he comes of a good stock; plenty of sense and know
their places. When I came on the road they gave me a mulatto fellow
whom I couldn't stand, one of these young, new, "free-issue" some call them,
sir, I believe; I couldn't stand him, I got rid of him.' I asked him
what was the trouble. `Oh! no trouble at all, sir; he just didn't know
his place, and I taught him. He could read and write a little --
a negro is very apt to think, sir, that if he can write he is educated --
he could write, and thought he was educated; he chewed a toothpick
and thought he was a gentleman. I soon taught him better.
He was impertinent, and I put him off the train. After that I told them
that I must have my own servant if I was to remain with them, and I got Nick.
He is an excellent boy (he was about fifty-five). The black is
a capital servant, sir, when he has sense, far better than the mulatto.'
"I became very intimate with the old fellow. You could not help it.
He had a way about him that drew you out. I told him I was going
to New Orleans to pay a visit to friends there. He said,
`Got a sweetheart there?' I was rather taken aback; but I told him, `Yes.'
He said he knew it as soon as I spoke to him on the platform.
He asked me who she was, and I told him her name. He said to me,
`Ah! you lucky dog.' I told him I did not know that I was not most unlucky,
for I had no reason to think she was going to marry me. He said,
`You tell her I say you'll be all right.' I felt better,
especially when the old chap said, `I'll tell her so myself.' He knew her.
She always travelled with him when she came North, he said.
"I did not know at all that I was all right; in fact,
I was rather low down just then about my chances, which was the only reason
I was so anxious to go to New Orleans, and I wanted just that encouragement
and it helped me mightily. I began to think Christmas on the cars
wasn't quite so bad after all. He drew me on, and before I knew it
I had told him all about myself. It was the queerest thing;
I had no idea in the world of talking about my matters.
I had hardly ever spoken of her to a soul; but the old chap had a way
of making you feel that he would be certain to understand you,
and could help you. He told me about his own case, and it wasn't
so different from mine. He lived in Virginia before the war;
came from up near Lynchburg somewhere; belonged to an old family there,
and had been in love with his sweetheart for years, but could never
make any impression on her. She was a beautiful girl, he said,
and the greatest belle in the country round. Her father was one
of the big lawyers there, and had a fine old place, and the stable was always
full of horses of the young fellows who used to be coming to see her,
and `she used to make me sick, I tell you,' he said, `I used to hate 'em all;
I wasn't afraid of 'em; but I used to hate a man to look at her; it seemed
so impudent in him; and I'd have been jealous if she had looked at the sun.
Well, I didn't know what to do. I'd have been ready to fight 'em all for her,
if that would have done any good, but it wouldn't; I didn't have any right
to get mad with 'em for loving her, and if I had got into a row
she'd have sent me off in a jiffy. But just then the war came on,
and it was a Godsend to me. I went in first thing. I made up my mind
to go in and fight like five thousand furies, and I thought maybe that
would win her, and it did; it worked first-rate. I went in as a private,
and I got a bullet through me in about six months, through my right lung,
that laid me off for a year or so; then I went back and the boys made me
a lieutenant, and when the captain was made a major, I was made captain.
I was offered something higher once or twice, but I thought I'd rather stay
with my company; I knew the boys, and they knew me, and we had got
sort of used to each other -- to depending on each other, as it were.
The war fixed me all right, though. When I went home that first time
my wife had come right around, and as soon as I was well enough
we were married. I always said if I could find that Yankee that shot me
I'd like to make him a present. I found out that the great trouble with me
had been that I had not been bold enough; I used to let her go her own way
too much, and seemed to be afraid of her. I WAS afraid of her, too.
I bet that's your trouble, sir: are you afraid of her?'
I told him I thought I was. `Well, sir,' he said, `it will never do;
you mustn't let her think that -- never. You cannot help being afraid of her,
for every man is that; but it is fatal to let her know it. Stand up, sir,
stand up for your rights. If you are bound to get down on your knees --
and every man feels that he is -- don't do it; get up and run out
and roll in the dust outside somewhere where she can't see you. Why, sir,'
he said, `it doesn't do to even let her think she's having her own way;
half the time she's only testing you, and she doesn't really want
what she pretends to want. Of course, I'm speaking of before marriage;
after marriage she always wants it, and she's going to have it, anyway,
and the sooner you find that out and give in, the better.
You must consider this, however, that her way after marriage
is always laid down to her with reference to your good.
She thinks about you a great deal more than you do about her,
and she's always working out something that is for your advantage;
she'll let you do some things as you wish, just to make you believe you are
having your own way, but she's just been pretending to think otherwise,
to make you feel good.'
"This sounded so much like sense that I asked him how much
a man ought to stand from a woman. `Stand, sir?' he said;
`why, everything, everything that does not take away his self-respect.'
I said I believed if he'd let a woman do it she'd wipe her shoes on him.
`Why, of course she will,' he said, `and why shouldn't she?
A man is not good enough for a good woman to wipe her shoes on.
But if she's the right sort of a woman she won't do it in company,
and she won't let others do it at all; she'll keep you for her own wiping.'"
"There's a lot of sense in that, Lesponts," said one of his auditors,
at which there was a universal smile of assent. Lesponts said he had
found it out, and proceeded.
"Well, we got to a little town in Virginia, I forget the name of it,
where we had to stop a short time. The Captain had told me that his home
was not far from there, and his old company was raised around there.
Quite a number of the old fellows lived about there yet, he said,
and he saw some of them nearly every time he passed through,
as they `kept the run of him.' He did not know that he'd `find any of them
out to-day, as it was Christmas, and they would all be at home,' he said.
As the train drew up I went out on the platform, however,
and there was quite a crowd assembled. I was surprised to find it so quiet,
for at other places through which we had passed they had been
having high jinks: firing off crackers and making things lively.
Here the crowd seemed to be quiet and solemn, and I heard the Captain's name.
Just then he came out on the platform, and someone called out:
`There he is, now!' and in a second such a cheer went up as you never heard.
They crowded around the old fellow and shook hands with him and hugged him
as if he had been a girl."
"I suppose you have reference to the time before you were married,"
interrupted someone, but Lesponts did not heed him. He went on:
"It seemed the rumor had got out that morning that it was the Captain's train
that had gone off the track and that the Captain had been killed in the wreck,
and this crowd had assembled to meet the body. `We were going to give you
a big funeral, Captain,' said one old fellow; `they've got you
while you are living, but we claim you when you are dead.
We ain't going to let 'em have you then. We're going to put you to sleep
in old Virginia.'
"The old fellow was much affected, and made them a little speech.
He introduced us to them all. He said: `Gentlemen, these are my boys,
my neighbors and family;' and then, `Boys, these are my friends;
I don't know all their names yet, but they are my friends.'
And we were. He rushed off to send a telegram to his wife in New Orleans,
because, as he said afterwards, she, too, might get hold of the report
that he had been killed; and a Christmas message would set her up, anyhow.
She'd be a little low down at his not getting there, he said,
as he had never missed a Christmas-day at home since '64.
"When dinner-time came he was invited in by pretty nearly everyone in the car,
but he declined; he said he had to attend to a matter.
I was going in with a party, but I thought the old fellow would be lonely,
so I waited and insisted on his dining with me. I found that it had
occurred to him that a bowl of eggnogg would make it seem more like Christmas,
and he had telegraphed ahead to a friend at a little place
to have `the materials' ready. Well, they were on hand when we got there,
and we took them aboard, and the old fellow made one of the finest eggnoggs
you ever tasted in your life. The rest of the passengers had no idea
of what was going on, and when the old chap came in with a big bowl,
wreathed in holly, borne by Nick, and the old Captain marching behind,
there was quite a cheer. It was offered to the ladies first, of course,
and then the men assembled in the smoker and the Captain did the honors.
He did them handsomely, too: made us one of the prettiest little speeches
you ever heard; said that Christmas was not dependent on the fireplace,
however much a roaring fire might contribute to it; that it was in
everyone's heart and might be enjoyed as well in a railway-car as in a hall,
and that in this time of change and movement it behooved us all to try
and keep up what was good and cheerful and bound us together,
and to remember that Christmas was not only a time for merry-making,
but was the time when the Saviour of the world came among men to bring
peace and good-will, and that we should remember all our friends everywhere.
`And, gentlemen,' he said, `there are two toasts I always like to propose
at this time, and which I will ask you to drink. The first is to my wife.'
It was drunk, you may believe. `And the second is, "My friends:
all mankind."' This too, was drunk, and just then someone noticed
that the old fellow had nothing but a little water in his glass.
`Why, Captain,' he said, `you are not drinking! that is not fair.'
`Well, no, sir,' said the old fellow, `I never drink anything on duty;
- promptly [´prɔmptli]
ad.敏捷地；即时地 (初中英语单词) - briefly [´bri:fli] ad.简短地；简略地 (初中英语单词)
- pointed [´pɔintid] a.尖(锐)的；中肯的 (初中英语单词)
- account [ə´kaunt] vi.说明 vt.认为 n.帐目 (初中英语单词)
- reading [´ri:diŋ] n.(阅)读；朗读；读物 (初中英语单词)
- intent [in´tent] a.专心致志的 n.意图 (初中英语单词)
- celebrated [´selibreitid] a.著名的 (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)
- intimate [´intimit] a.亲密的 n.知己 (初中英语单词)
- anxious [´æŋkʃəs] a.担忧的；渴望的 (初中英语单词)
- spoken [´spəukən] speak的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- virginia [və´dʒinjə] n.佛吉尼亚(州) (初中英语单词)
- impression [im´preʃən] n.印刷；印象；效果 (初中英语单词)
- stable [´steibəl] n.马棚 a.稳固的 (初中英语单词)
- jealous [´dʒeləs] a.妒忌的 (初中英语单词)
- bullet [´bulit] n.子弹 (初中英语单词)
- lieutenant [lef´tenənt] n.陆军中尉；代理；副手 (初中英语单词)
- yankee [´jæŋki] n.美国佬；美国公民 (初中英语单词)
- reference [´refərəns] n.参考；参照；出处 (初中英语单词)
- working [´wə:kiŋ] a.工人的；劳动的 (初中英语单词)
- universal [,ju:ni´və:səl] a.宇宙的；普遍的 (初中英语单词)
- platform [´plætfɔ:m] n.(平)台；讲台；站台 (初中英语单词)
- solemn [´sɔləm] a.严肃的；隆重的 (初中英语单词)
- funeral [´fju:nərəl] n.葬礼，丧葬；困难 (初中英语单词)
- telegram [´teligræm] n.电报 (初中英语单词)
- everyone [´evriwʌn] pron.=everybody 每人 (初中英语单词)
- aboard [ə´bɔ:d] ad.&prep.在...上 (初中英语单词)
- contribute [kən´tribju:t] v.贡献出；投稿；捐献 (初中英语单词)
- movement [´mu:vmənt] n.活动；运动；动作 (初中英语单词)
- cheerful [´tʃiəful] a.快乐的；高兴的 (初中英语单词)
- response [ri´spɔns] n.回答；响应 (高中英语单词)
- decided [di´saidid] a.明显的；决定的 (高中英语单词)
- whilst [wailst] conj.当...时候；虽然 (高中英语单词)
- plantation [plæn´teiʃən] n.种植园；栽植；移民 (高中英语单词)
- colonel [´kə:nəl] n.海(陆)军上校 (高中英语单词)
- porter [´pɔ:tə] n.守门人；勤杂工人 (高中英语单词)
- admirable [´ædmərəbəl] a.极佳的，值得赞美的 (高中英语单词)
- sweetheart [´swi:thɑ:t] n.爱人；情人 (高中英语单词)
- loving [´lʌviŋ] a.爱的，有爱情的 (高中英语单词)
- assent [ə´sent] vi.&n.同意，赞成 (高中英语单词)
- crowded [´kraudid] a.充(拥)满了的 (高中英语单词)
- dependent [di´pendənt] a.依赖的；从属的 (高中英语单词)
- trying [´traiiŋ] a.难堪的；费劲的 (英语四级单词)
- orleans [ɔ:´liənz] n.奥尔良 (英语四级单词)
- saviour [´seiviə] n.救星；救助者 (英语四级单词)
- graphic [´græfik] a.图表的；生动的 (英语六级单词)
- geranium [dʒə´reiniəm] n.天竺葵 (英语六级单词)
- speaking [´spi:kiŋ] n.说话 a.发言的 (英语六级单词)
- affected [ə´fektid] a.做作的；假装的 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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