章节正文
made men like that.
The only reminder of such times that we have left us now, is the
bull-dog; and he is fast dying out--the pity of it! What a splendid
old dog he is! so grim, so silent, so stanch; so terrible, when he has
got his idea, of his duty clear before him; so absurdly meek, when it
is only himself that is concerned.
He is the gentlest, too, and the most lovable of all dogs. He does
not look it. The sweetness of his disposition would not strike the
casual observer at first glance. He resembles the gentleman spoken of
in the oft-quoted stanza:
'E's all right when yer knows 'im.
But yer've got to know 'im fust.
The first time I ever met a bull-dog--to speak to, that is--was many
years ago. We were lodging down in the country, an orphan friend of
mine named George, and myself, and one night, coming home late from
some dissolving views we found the family had gone to bed. They had
left a light in our room, however, and we went in and sat down, and
began to take off our boots.
And then, for the first time, we noticed on the hearthrug a bull-dog.
A dog with a more thoughtfullyferocious expression--a dog with,
apparently, a heart more dead to all ennobling and civilizing
sentiments--I have never seen. As George said, he looked more like
some heathen idol than a happy English dog.
He appeared to have been waiting for us; and he rose up and greeted us
with a ghastly grin, and got between us and the door.
We smiled at him--a sickly, propitiatory smile. We said, "Good
dog--poor fellow!" and we asked him, in tones implying that the
question could admit of no negative, if he was not a "nice old chap."
We did not really think so. We had our own private opinion concerning
him, and it was unfavorable. But we did not express it. We would not
have hurt his feelings for the world. He was a visitor, our guest, so
to speak--and, as well-brought-up young men, we felt that the right
thing to do was for us to prevent his gaining any hint that we were
not glad to see him, and to make him feel as little as possible the
awkwardness of his position.
I think we succeeded. He was singularly unembarrassed, and far more
at his ease than even we were. He took but little notice of our
flattering remarks, but was much drawn toward George's legs. George
used to be, I remember, rather proud of his legs. I could never see
enough in them myself to excuse George's vanity; indeed, they always
struck me as lumpy. It is only fair to acknowledge, however, that
they quite fascinated that bull-dog. He walked over and criticized
them with the air of a long-baffled connoisseur who had at last found
his ideal. At the termination of his inspection he distinctly smiled.
George, who at that time was modest and bashful, blushed and drew them
up on to the chair. On the dog's displaying a desire to follow them,
George moved up on to the table, and squatted there in the middle,
nursing his knees. George's legs being lost to him, the dog appeared
inclined to console himself with mine. I went and sat beside George
on the table.
Sitting with your feet drawn up in front of you, on a small and
rickety one-legged table, is a most trying exercise, especially if you
are not used to it. George and I both felt our position keenly. We
did not like to call out for help, and bring the family down. We were
proud young men, and we feared lest, to the unsympathetic eye of the
comparative stranger, the spectacle we should present might not prove
imposing.
We sat on in silence for about half an hour, the dog keeping a
reproachful eye upon us from the nearest chair, and displaying
elephantine delight whenever we made any movementsuggestive of
climbing down.
At the end of the half hour we discussed the advisability of "chancing
it," but decided not to. "We should never," George said, "confound
foolhardiness with courage."
"Courage," he continued--George had quite a gift for maxims--"courage
is the wisdom of manhood; foolhardiness, the folly of youth."
He said that to get down from the table while that dog remained in the
room, would clearly prove us to be possessed of the latter quality; so
we restrained ourselves, and sat on.
We sat on for over an hour, by which time, having both grown careless
of life and indifferent to the voice of Wisdom, we did "chance it;"
and throwing the table-cloth over our would-be murderer, charged for
the door and got out.
The next morning we complained to our landlady of her carelessness in
leaving wild beasts about the place, and we gave her a brief if not
exactly truthful, history of the business.
Instead of the tender womanly sympathy we had expected, the old lady
sat down in the easy chair and burst out laughing.
"What! old Boozer," she exclaimed, "you was afraid of old Boozer!
Why, bless you, he wouldn't hurt a worm! He ain't got a tooth in his
head, he ain't; we has to feed him with a spoon; and I'm sure the way
the cat chivies him about must be enough to make his life a burden to
him. I expect he wanted you to nurse him; he's used to being nursed."
And that was the brute that had kept us sitting on a table, with our
boots off, for over an hour on a chilly night!
Another bull-dog exhibition that occurs to me was one given by my
uncle. He had had a bulldog--a young one--given to him by a friend.
It was a grand dog, so his friend had told him; all it wanted was
training--it had not been properly trained. My uncle did not profess
to know much about the training of bull-dogs; but it seemed a simple
enough matter, so he thanked the man, and took his prize home at the
end of a rope.
"Have we got to live in the house with _this?_" asked my aunt,
indignantly, coming in to the room about an hour after the dog's
advent, followed by the quadruped himself, wearing an idiotically
self-satisfied air.
"That!" exclaimed my uncle, in astonishment; "why, it's a splendid
dog. His father was honorably mentioned only last year at the
Aquarium."
"Ah, well, all I can say is, that his son isn't going the way to get
honorably mentioned in this neighborhood," replied my aunt, with
bitterness; "he's just finished killing poor Mrs. McSlanger's cat, if
you want to know what he has been doing. And a pretty row there'll be
about it, too!"
"Can't we hush it up?" said my uncle.
"Hush it up?" retorted my aunt. "If you'd heard the row, you wouldn't
sit there and talk like a fool. And if you'll take my advice," added
my aunt, "you'll set to work on this 'training,' or whatever it is,
that has got to be done to the dog, before any human life is lost."
My uncle was too busy to devote any time to the dog for the next day
or so, and all that could be done was to keep the animal carefully
confined to the house.
And a nice time we had with him! It was not that the animal was
bad-hearted. He meant well--he tried to do his duty. What was wrong
with him was that he was too hard-working. He wanted to do too much.
He started with an exaggerated and totallyerroneous notion of his
duties and responsibilities. His idea was that he had been brought
into the house for the purpose of preventing any living human soul
from coming near it and of preventing any person who might by chance
have managed to slip in from ever again leaving it.
We endeavored to induce him to take a less exalted view of his
position, but in vain. That was the conception he had formed in his
own mind concerning his earthly task, and that conception he insisted
on living up to with, what appeared to us to be, unnecessary
conscientiousness.
He so effectually frightened away all the trades people, that they at
last refused to enter the gate. All that they would do was to bring
their goods and drop them over the fence into the front garden, from
where we had to go and fetch them as we wanted them.
"I wish you'd run into the garden," my aunt would say to me--I was
stopping with them at the time--"and see if you can find any sugar; I
think there's some under the big rose-bush. If not, you'd better go
to Jones' and order some."
And on the cook's inquiring what she should get ready for lunch, my
aunt would say:
"Well, I'm sure, Jane, I hardly know. What have we? Are there any
chops in the garden, or was it a bit of steak that I noticed on the
lawn?"
On the second afternoon the plumbers came to do a little job to the
kitchen boiler. The dog, being engaged at the time in the front of
the house, driving away the postman, did not notice their arrival. He
was broken-hearted at finding them there when he got downstairs, and
evidently blamed himself most bitterly. Still, there they were, all
owing to his carelessness, and the only thing to be done now was to
see that they did not escape.
There were three plumbers (it always takes three plumbers to do a job;
the first man comes on ahead to tell you that the second man will be
there soon, the second man comes to say that he can't stop, and the
third man follows to ask if the first man has been there); and that
faithful, dumb animal kept them pinned up in the kitchen--fancy
wanting to keep plumbers in a house longer than is absolutely
necessary!--for five hours, until my uncle came home; and the bill
ran: "Self and two men engaged six hours, repairing boiler-tap, 18s.;
material, 2d.; total 18s. 2d."
He took a dislike to the cook from the very first. We did not blame
him for this. She was a disagreeable old woman, and we did not think
much of her ourselves. But when it came to keeping her out of the
kitchen, so that she could not do her work, and my aunt and uncle had
to cook the dinner themselves, assisted by the housemaid--a
willing-enough girl, but necessarily inexperienced--we felt that the
woman was being subject to persecution.
My uncle, after this, decided that the dog's training must be no
longer neglected. The man next door but one always talked as if he
knew a lot about sporting matters, and to him my uncle went for advice
as to how to set about it.
"Oh, yes," said the man, cheerfully, "very simple thing, training a
bull-dog. Wants patience, that's all."
"Oh, that will be all right," said my uncle; "it can't want much more
than living in the same house with him before he's trained does. How
do you start?"
"Well, I'll tell you," said next-door-but-one. "You take him up into
a room where there's not much furniture, and you shut the door and
bolt it."
"I see," said my uncle.
"Then you place him on the floor in the middle of the room, and you go
down on your knees in front of him, and begin to irritate him."
"Oh!"
"Yes--and you go on irritating him until you have made him quite
savage."
"Which, from what I know of the dog, won't take long," observed my
uncle thoughtfully.
"So much the better. The moment he gets savage he will fly at you."
My uncle agreed that the idea seemed plausible.
"He will fly at your throat," continued the next-door-but-one man,
"and this is where you will have to be careful. _As_ he springs
toward you, and _before_ he gets hold of you, you must hit him a fair
straight blow on his nose, and knock him down."
"Yes, I see what you mean."
"Quite so--well, the moment you have knocked him down, he will jump up
and go for you again. You must knock him down again; and you must
keep on doing this, until the dog is thoroughly cowed and exhausted.
Once he is thoroughly cowed, the thing's done--dog's as gentle as a
lamb after that."
"Oh!" says my uncle, rising from his chair, "you think that a good
way, do you?"
"Certainly," replied the next-door-but-one man; "it never fails."
"Oh! I wasn't doubting it," said my uncle; "only it's just occurred
to me that as you understand the knack of these things, perhaps
_you'd_ like to come in and try _your_ hand on the dog? We can give
you a room quite to yourselves; and I'll undertake that nobody comes
near to interfere with you. And if--if," continued my uncle, with
The only reminder of such times that we have left us now, is the
bull-dog; and he is fast dying out--the pity of it! What a splendid
old dog he is! so grim, so silent, so stanch; so terrible, when he has
got his idea, of his duty clear before him; so absurdly meek, when it
is only himself that is concerned.
He is the gentlest, too, and the most lovable of all dogs. He does
not look it. The sweetness of his disposition would not strike the
casual observer at first glance. He resembles the gentleman spoken of
in the oft-quoted stanza:
'E's all right when yer knows 'im.
But yer've got to know 'im fust.
The first time I ever met a bull-dog--to speak to, that is--was many
years ago. We were lodging down in the country, an orphan friend of
mine named George, and myself, and one night, coming home late from
some dissolving views we found the family had gone to bed. They had
left a light in our room, however, and we went in and sat down, and
began to take off our boots.
And then, for the first time, we noticed on the hearthrug a bull-dog.
A dog with a more thoughtfullyferocious expression--a dog with,
apparently, a heart more dead to all ennobling and civilizing
sentiments--I have never seen. As George said, he looked more like
some heathen idol than a happy English dog.
He appeared to have been waiting for us; and he rose up and greeted us
with a ghastly grin, and got between us and the door.
We smiled at him--a sickly, propitiatory smile. We said, "Good
dog--poor fellow!" and we asked him, in tones implying that the
question could admit of no negative, if he was not a "nice old chap."
We did not really think so. We had our own private opinion concerning
him, and it was unfavorable. But we did not express it. We would not
have hurt his feelings for the world. He was a visitor, our guest, so
to speak--and, as well-brought-up young men, we felt that the right
thing to do was for us to prevent his gaining any hint that we were
not glad to see him, and to make him feel as little as possible the
awkwardness of his position.
I think we succeeded. He was singularly unembarrassed, and far more
at his ease than even we were. He took but little notice of our
flattering remarks, but was much drawn toward George's legs. George
used to be, I remember, rather proud of his legs. I could never see
enough in them myself to excuse George's vanity; indeed, they always
struck me as lumpy. It is only fair to acknowledge, however, that
they quite fascinated that bull-dog. He walked over and criticized
them with the air of a long-baffled connoisseur who had at last found
his ideal. At the termination of his inspection he distinctly smiled.
George, who at that time was modest and bashful, blushed and drew them
up on to the chair. On the dog's displaying a desire to follow them,
George moved up on to the table, and squatted there in the middle,
nursing his knees. George's legs being lost to him, the dog appeared
inclined to console himself with mine. I went and sat beside George
on the table.
Sitting with your feet drawn up in front of you, on a small and
rickety one-legged table, is a most trying exercise, especially if you
are not used to it. George and I both felt our position keenly. We
did not like to call out for help, and bring the family down. We were
proud young men, and we feared lest, to the unsympathetic eye of the
comparative stranger, the spectacle we should present might not prove
imposing.
We sat on in silence for about half an hour, the dog keeping a
reproachful eye upon us from the nearest chair, and displaying
elephantine delight whenever we made any movementsuggestive of
climbing down.
At the end of the half hour we discussed the advisability of "chancing
it," but decided not to. "We should never," George said, "confound
foolhardiness with courage."
"Courage," he continued--George had quite a gift for maxims--"courage
is the wisdom of manhood; foolhardiness, the folly of youth."
He said that to get down from the table while that dog remained in the
room, would clearly prove us to be possessed of the latter quality; so
we restrained ourselves, and sat on.
We sat on for over an hour, by which time, having both grown careless
of life and indifferent to the voice of Wisdom, we did "chance it;"
and throwing the table-cloth over our would-be murderer, charged for
the door and got out.
The next morning we complained to our landlady of her carelessness in
leaving wild beasts about the place, and we gave her a brief if not
exactly truthful, history of the business.
Instead of the tender womanly sympathy we had expected, the old lady
sat down in the easy chair and burst out laughing.
"What! old Boozer," she exclaimed, "you was afraid of old Boozer!
Why, bless you, he wouldn't hurt a worm! He ain't got a tooth in his
head, he ain't; we has to feed him with a spoon; and I'm sure the way
the cat chivies him about must be enough to make his life a burden to
him. I expect he wanted you to nurse him; he's used to being nursed."
And that was the brute that had kept us sitting on a table, with our
boots off, for over an hour on a chilly night!
Another bull-dog exhibition that occurs to me was one given by my
uncle. He had had a bulldog--a young one--given to him by a friend.
It was a grand dog, so his friend had told him; all it wanted was
training--it had not been properly trained. My uncle did not profess
to know much about the training of bull-dogs; but it seemed a simple
enough matter, so he thanked the man, and took his prize home at the
end of a rope.
"Have we got to live in the house with _this?_" asked my aunt,
indignantly, coming in to the room about an hour after the dog's
advent, followed by the quadruped himself, wearing an idiotically
self-satisfied air.
"That!" exclaimed my uncle, in astonishment; "why, it's a splendid
dog. His father was honorably mentioned only last year at the
Aquarium."
"Ah, well, all I can say is, that his son isn't going the way to get
honorably mentioned in this neighborhood," replied my aunt, with
bitterness; "he's just finished killing poor Mrs. McSlanger's cat, if
you want to know what he has been doing. And a pretty row there'll be
about it, too!"
"Can't we hush it up?" said my uncle.
"Hush it up?" retorted my aunt. "If you'd heard the row, you wouldn't
sit there and talk like a fool. And if you'll take my advice," added
my aunt, "you'll set to work on this 'training,' or whatever it is,
that has got to be done to the dog, before any human life is lost."
My uncle was too busy to devote any time to the dog for the next day
or so, and all that could be done was to keep the animal carefully
confined to the house.
And a nice time we had with him! It was not that the animal was
bad-hearted. He meant well--he tried to do his duty. What was wrong
with him was that he was too hard-working. He wanted to do too much.
He started with an exaggerated and totallyerroneous notion of his
duties and responsibilities. His idea was that he had been brought
into the house for the purpose of preventing any living human soul
from coming near it and of preventing any person who might by chance
have managed to slip in from ever again leaving it.
We endeavored to induce him to take a less exalted view of his
position, but in vain. That was the conception he had formed in his
own mind concerning his earthly task, and that conception he insisted
on living up to with, what appeared to us to be, unnecessary
conscientiousness.
He so effectually frightened away all the trades people, that they at
last refused to enter the gate. All that they would do was to bring
their goods and drop them over the fence into the front garden, from
where we had to go and fetch them as we wanted them.
"I wish you'd run into the garden," my aunt would say to me--I was
stopping with them at the time--"and see if you can find any sugar; I
think there's some under the big rose-bush. If not, you'd better go
to Jones' and order some."
And on the cook's inquiring what she should get ready for lunch, my
aunt would say:
"Well, I'm sure, Jane, I hardly know. What have we? Are there any
chops in the garden, or was it a bit of steak that I noticed on the
lawn?"
On the second afternoon the plumbers came to do a little job to the
kitchen boiler. The dog, being engaged at the time in the front of
the house, driving away the postman, did not notice their arrival. He
was broken-hearted at finding them there when he got downstairs, and
evidently blamed himself most bitterly. Still, there they were, all
owing to his carelessness, and the only thing to be done now was to
see that they did not escape.
There were three plumbers (it always takes three plumbers to do a job;
the first man comes on ahead to tell you that the second man will be
there soon, the second man comes to say that he can't stop, and the
third man follows to ask if the first man has been there); and that
faithful, dumb animal kept them pinned up in the kitchen--fancy
wanting to keep plumbers in a house longer than is absolutely
necessary!--for five hours, until my uncle came home; and the bill
ran: "Self and two men engaged six hours, repairing boiler-tap, 18s.;
material, 2d.; total 18s. 2d."
He took a dislike to the cook from the very first. We did not blame
him for this. She was a disagreeable old woman, and we did not think
much of her ourselves. But when it came to keeping her out of the
kitchen, so that she could not do her work, and my aunt and uncle had
to cook the dinner themselves, assisted by the housemaid--a
willing-enough girl, but necessarily inexperienced--we felt that the
woman was being subject to persecution.
My uncle, after this, decided that the dog's training must be no
longer neglected. The man next door but one always talked as if he
knew a lot about sporting matters, and to him my uncle went for advice
as to how to set about it.
"Oh, yes," said the man, cheerfully, "very simple thing, training a
bull-dog. Wants patience, that's all."
"Oh, that will be all right," said my uncle; "it can't want much more
than living in the same house with him before he's trained does. How
do you start?"
"Well, I'll tell you," said next-door-but-one. "You take him up into
a room where there's not much furniture, and you shut the door and
bolt it."
"I see," said my uncle.
"Then you place him on the floor in the middle of the room, and you go
down on your knees in front of him, and begin to irritate him."
"Oh!"
"Yes--and you go on irritating him until you have made him quite
savage."
"Which, from what I know of the dog, won't take long," observed my
uncle thoughtfully.
"So much the better. The moment he gets savage he will fly at you."
My uncle agreed that the idea seemed plausible.
"He will fly at your throat," continued the next-door-but-one man,
"and this is where you will have to be careful. _As_ he springs
toward you, and _before_ he gets hold of you, you must hit him a fair
straight blow on his nose, and knock him down."
"Yes, I see what you mean."
"Quite so--well, the moment you have knocked him down, he will jump up
and go for you again. You must knock him down again; and you must
keep on doing this, until the dog is thoroughly cowed and exhausted.
Once he is thoroughly cowed, the thing's done--dog's as gentle as a
lamb after that."
"Oh!" says my uncle, rising from his chair, "you think that a good
way, do you?"
"Certainly," replied the next-door-but-one man; "it never fails."
"Oh! I wasn't doubting it," said my uncle; "only it's just occurred
to me that as you understand the knack of these things, perhaps
_you'd_ like to come in and try _your_ hand on the dog? We can give
you a room quite to yourselves; and I'll undertake that nobody comes
near to interfere with you. And if--if," continued my uncle, with
- disposition [,dispə´ziʃən]
n.安排；性情；倾向 (初中英语单词) - observer [əb´zə:və] n.遵守者；观察员 (初中英语单词)
- spoken [´spəukən] speak的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- waiting [´weitiŋ] n.等候；伺候 (初中英语单词)
- visitor [´vizitə] n.访问者；来宾；参观者 (初中英语单词)
- vanity [´væniti] n.虚荣；自负；空虚 (初中英语单词)
- acknowledge [ək´nɔlidʒ] vt.(公开)承认；感谢 (初中英语单词)
- distinctly [di´stiŋktli] ad.清楚地，明晰地 (初中英语单词)
- modest [´mɔdist] a.谦虚的；朴素的 (初中英语单词)
- keenly [´ki:nli] ad.敏锐地；强烈地 (初中英语单词)
- spectacle [´spektəkəl] n.展览；表演；景象 (初中英语单词)
- whenever [wen´evə] conj.&ad.无论何时 (初中英语单词)
- movement [´mu:vmənt] n.活动；运动；动作 (初中英语单词)
- wisdom [´wizdəm] n.智慧，聪明，才智 (初中英语单词)
- sympathy [´simpəθi] n.同情，怜悯 (初中英语单词)
- chilly [´tʃili] a.凉飕飕的 (初中英语单词)
- properly [´prɔpəli] ad.适当地；严格地 (初中英语单词)
- astonishment [ə´stɔniʃmənt] n.吃惊；惊异 (初中英语单词)
- whatever [wɔt´evə] pron.&a.无论什么 (初中英语单词)
- arrival [ə´raivəl] n.到达；到达的人(物) (初中英语单词)
- downstairs [,daun´steəz] ad.在楼下 a.楼下的 (初中英语单词)
- bitterly [´bitəli] ad.悲痛地；憎恨地 (初中英语单词)
- dislike [dis´laik] vt.&n.不喜爱，厌恶 (初中英语单词)
- patience [´peiʃəns] n.忍耐(力)；耐心；坚韧 (初中英语单词)
- savage [´sævidʒ] a.野蛮的 n.蛮人 (初中英语单词)
- thoroughly [´θʌrəli] ad.完全地，彻底地 (初中英语单词)
- undertake [,ʌndə´teik] vt.从事；承担；担保 (初中英语单词)
- interfere [,intə´fiə] vi.干涉；妨碍；打扰 (初中英语单词)
- sweetness [´swi:tnis] n.甜蜜；芳香；亲切 (高中英语单词)
- lodging [´lɔdʒiŋ] n.寄宿，住宿 (高中英语单词)
- orphan [´ɔ:fən] n.&a.孤儿 vt.使成孤儿 (高中英语单词)
- thoughtfully [´θɔ:tfuli] ad.深思地；体贴地 (高中英语单词)
- heathen [´hi:ðən] n.异教徒 (高中英语单词)
- ghastly [´gɑ:stli] a.苍白的；可怕的 (高中英语单词)
- negative [´negətiv] a.否定的 n.否定词 (高中英语单词)
- inspection [in´spekʃən] n.检查；视察；参观 (高中英语单词)
- decided [di´saidid] a.明显的；决定的 (高中英语单词)
- manhood [´mænhud] n.人格；男子气概 (高中英语单词)
- indifferent [in´difrənt] a.不关心的；中立的 (高中英语单词)
- murderer [´mə:dərə] n.杀人犯，凶手 (高中英语单词)
- landlady [´lænd,leidi] n.女房东；女店主 (高中英语单词)
- exhibition [eksi´biʃ(ə)n] n.展览；显示；表演 (高中英语单词)
- conception [kən´sepʃən] n.构思；概念；怀孕 (高中英语单词)
- concerning [kən´sə:niŋ] prep.关于 (高中英语单词)
- earthly [´ə:θli] a.地球的；世俗的 (高中英语单词)
- boiler [´bɔilə] n.锅炉 (高中英语单词)
- finding [´faindiŋ] n.发现物；判断；结果 (高中英语单词)
- disagreeable [,disə´gri:əbl] a.令人不悦的 (高中英语单词)
- necessarily [´nesisərili] ad.必定，必然地 (高中英语单词)
- cheerfully [´tʃiəfuli] ad.高兴地，愉快地 (高中英语单词)
- irritate [´iriteit] vt.激怒；刺激 (高中英语单词)
- sickly [´sikli] a.多病的；病态的 (英语四级单词)
- bashful [´bæʃful] a.害羞的，忸怩的 (英语四级单词)
- console [kən´səul] vt.安慰；慰问 (英语四级单词)
- trying [´traiiŋ] a.难堪的；费劲的 (英语四级单词)
- carelessness [kɛəlisnis] n.粗心；漫不经心 (英语四级单词)
- totally [´təutəli] ad.统统，完全 (英语四级单词)
- reminder [ri´maində] n.提醒物；纪念品；暗示 (英语六级单词)
- lovable [´lʌvəbəl] a.可爱的 (英语六级单词)
- ferocious [fə´rəuʃəs] a.凶猛的；残忍的 (英语六级单词)
- termination [,tə:mi´neiʃən] n.终止，结束；结局 (英语六级单词)
- suggestive [sə´dʒestiv] a.暗示的；启发的 (英语六级单词)
- truthful [´tru:θfəl] a.诚实的；真实的 (英语六级单词)
- honorably [´ɔnərəbli] ad.光荣地；光明正大地 (英语六级单词)
- erroneous [i´rəuniəs] a.错误的 (英语六级单词)
- effectually [i´fektjuəli] ad.有效地 (英语六级单词)
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