章节正文
"Oh, dear!" cried the boy, "I wish you'd try and grasp the
situation properly. When the other people find you out, they'll
come after you with spears and swords and all sorts of things.
You'll have to be exterminated, according to their way of
looking at it! You're a scourge, and a pest, and a baneful
monster!"
"Not a word of truth in it," said the dragon, wagging his head
solemnly. "Character'll bear the strictest investigation. And
now, there's a little sonnet-thing I was working on when you
appeared on the scene--"
"Oh, if you WON'T be sensible," cried the Boy, getting up,
"I'm going off home. No, I can't stop for sonnets; my mother's
sitting up. I'll look you up to-morrow, sometime or other, and
do for goodness' sake try and realize that you're a pestilential
scourge, or you'll find yourself in a most awful fix. Good-
night!"
The Boy found it an easy matter to set the mind of his parents'
at ease about his new friend. They had always left that branch
to him, and they took his word without a murmur. The shepherd
was formally introduced and many compliments and kind
inquiries were exchanged. His wife, however, though expressing
her willingness" target="_blank" title="n.情愿，乐意，自愿">willingness to do anything she could--to mend things, or set
the cave to rights, or cook a little something when the dragon
had been poring over sonnets and forgotten his meals, as male
things WILL do, could not be brought to recognize him
formally. The fact that he was a dragon and "they didn't know
who he was" seemed to count for everything with her. She made no
objection, however, to her little son spending his evenings with
the dragon quietly, so long as he was home by nine o'clock: and
many a pleasant night they had, sitting on the sward, while the
dragon told stories of old, old times, when dragons were quite
plentiful and the world was a livelier place than it is now, and
life was full of thrills and jumps and surprises.
What the Boy had feared, however, soon came to pass. The most
modest and retiring dragon in the world, if he's as big
as four cart-horses and covered with blue scales, cannot keep
altogether out of the public view. And so in the village tavern
of nights the fact that a real live dragon sat brooding in the
cave on the Downs was naturally a subject for talk. Though the
villagers were extremely frightened, they were rather proud as
well. It was a distinction to have a dragon of your own, and it
was felt to be a feather in the cap of the village. Still, all
were agreed that this sort of thing couldn't be allowed to go on.
The dreadful beast must be exterminated, the country-side must be
freed from this pest, this terror, this destroying scourge. The
fact that not even a hen roost was the worse for the dragon's
arrival wasn't allowed to have anything to do with it. He was a
dragon, and he couldn't deny it, and if he didn't choose to
behave as such that was his own lookout. But in spite of
much valiant talk no hero was found willing to take sword and
spear and free the suffering village and win deathless fame; and
each night's heated discussion always ended in nothing.
Meanwhile the dragon, a happy Bohemian, lolled on the turf,
enjoyed the sunsets, told antediluvian anecdotes to the Boy, and
polished his old verses while meditating on fresh ones.
One day the Boy, on walking in to the village, found everything
wearing a festal appearance which was not to be accounted for in
the calendar. Carpets and gay-coloured stuffs were hung out of
the windows, the church-bells clamoured noisily, the little
street was flower-strewn, and the whole population jostled each
other along either side of it, chattering, shoving, and ordering
each other to stand back. The Boy saw a friend of his own age in
the crowd and hailed him.
"What's up?" he cried. "Is it the players, or bears, or a
circus, or what?"
"It's all right," his friend hailed back. "He's a-coming."
"WHO'S a-coming?" demanded the Boy, thrusting into the throng.
"Why, St. George, of course," replied his friend. "He's heard
tell of our dragon, and he's comin' on purpose to slay the deadly
beast, and free us from his horrid yoke. O my! won't there be a
jolly fight!"
Here was news indeed! The Boy felt that he ought to make quite
sure for himself, and he wriggled himself in between the legs of
his good-natured elders, abusing them all the time for their
unmannerly habit of shoving. Once in the front rank, he
breathlessly awaited the arrival.
Presently from the far-away end of the line came the sound of
cheering. Next, the measured tramp of a great war-horse
made his heart beat quicker, and then he found himself cheering
with the rest, as, amidst welcoming shouts, shrill cries of
women, uplifting of babies and waving of handkerchiefs, St.
George paced slowly up the street. The Boy's heart stood still
and he breathed with sobs, the beauty and the grace of the hero
were so far beyond anything he had yet seen. His fluted armour
was inlaid with gold, his plumed helmet hung at his saddle-bow,
and his thick fair hair framed a face gracious and gentle beyond
expression till you caught the sternness in his eyes. He drew
rein in front of the little inn, and the villagers crowded round
with greetings and thanks and voluble statements of their wrongs
and grievances and oppressions. The Boy heard the grave gentle
voice of the Saint, assuring them that all would be well
now, and that he would stand by them and see them righted
and free them from their foe; then he dismounted and passed
through the doorway and the crowd poured in after him. But the
Boy made off up the hill as fast as he could lay his legs to the
ground.
"It's all up, dragon!" he shouted as soon as he was within sight
of the beast. "He's coming! He's here now! You'll have to pull
yourself together and DO something at last!"
The dragon was licking his scales and rubbing them with a bit of
house-flannel the Boy's mother had lent him, till he shone like a
great turquoise.
"Don't be VIOLENT, Boy," he said without looking round. "Sit
down and get your breath, and try and remember that the noun
governs the verb, and then perhaps you'll be good enough to tell
me WHO'S coming?"
"That's right, take it coolly," said the Boy. "Hope you'll be
half as cool when I've got through with my news. It's only St.
George who's coming, that's all; he rode into the village half-
an-hour ago. Of course you can lick him--a great big fellow like
you! But I thought I'd warn you, 'cos he's sure to be round
early, and he's got the longest, wickedest-looking spear you ever
did see!" And the Boy got up and began to jump round in sheer
delight at the prospect of the battle.
"O deary, deary me," moaned the dragon; "this is too awful. I
won't see him, and that's flat. I don't want to know the fellow
at all. I'm sure he's not nice. You must tell him to go away at
once, please. Say he can write if he likes, but I can't give him
an interview. I'm not seeing anybody at present."
"Now dragon, dragon," said the Boy imploringly, "don't be
perverse and wrongheaded. You've GOT to fight him some time
or other, you know, 'cos he's St. George and you're the dragon.
Better get it over, and then we can go on with the sonnets. And
you ought to consider other people a little, too. If it's been
dull up here for you, think how dull it's been for me!"
"My dear little man," said the dragonsolemnly, "just understand,
once for all, that I can't fight and I won't fight. I've never
fought in my life, and I'm not going to begin now, just to give
you a Roman holiday. In old days I always let the other
fellows--the EARNEST fellows--do all the fighting, and no
doubt that's why I have the pleasure of being here now."
"But if you don't fight he'll cut your head off!" gasped the Boy,
miserable at the prospect of losing both his fight and his
friend.
"Oh, I think not," said the dragon in his lazy way. "You'll be
able to arrange something. I've every confidence in you, you're
such a MANAGER. Just run down, there's a dear chap, and make
it all right. I leave it entirely to you."
The Boy made his way back to the village in a state of great
despondency. First of all, there wasn't going to be any fight;
next, his dear and honoured friend the dragon hadn't shown up in
quite such a heroic light as he would have liked; and lastly,
whether the dragon was a hero at heart or not, it made no
difference, for St. George would most undoubtedly cut his head
off. "Arrange things indeed!" he said bitterly to himself. "The
dragon treats the whole affair as if it was an invitation to tea
and croquet."
The villagers were straggling homewards as he passed up the
street, all of them in the highest spirits, and gleefully
discussing the splendid fight that was in store. The Boy pursued
his way to the inn, and passed into the principalchamber, where
St. George now sat alone, musing over the chances of the fight,
and the sad stories of rapine and of wrong that had so lately
been poured into his sympathetic ears.
"May I come in, St. George?" said the Boy politely, as he paused
at the door. "I want to talk to you about this little matter of
the dragon, if you're not tired of it by this time."
"Yes, come in, Boy," said the Saint kindly. "Another tale of
misery and wrong, I fear me. Is it a kind parent, then, of whom
the tyrant has bereft you? Or some tender sister or brother?
Well, it shall soon be avenged."
"Nothing of the sort," said the Boy. "There's a misunderstanding
somewhere, and I want to put it right. The fact is, this is
a GOOD dragon."
"Exactly," said St. George, smiling pleasantly, "I quite
understand. A good DRAGON. Believe me, I do not in the least
regret that he is an adversaryworthy of my steel, and no feeble
specimen of his noxious tribe."
"But he's NOT a noxious tribe," cried the Boy distressedly.
"Oh dear, oh dear, how STUPID men are when they get an idea
into their heads! I tell you he's a GOOD dragon, and a friend
of mine, and tells me the most beautiful stories you ever heard,
all about old times and when he was little. And he's been so
kind to mother, and mother'd do anything for him. And father
likes him too, though father doesn't hold with art and poetry
much, and always falls asleep when the dragon starts talking
about STYLE. But the fact is, nobody can help liking him when
once they know him. He's so engaging and so trustful, and
as simple as a child!"
"Sit down, and draw your chair up," said St. George. "I like a
fellow who sticks up for his friends, and I'm sure the dragon has
his good points, if he's got a friend like you. But that's not
the question. All this evening I've been listening, with grief
and anguishunspeakable, to tales of murder, theft, and wrong;
rather too highly coloured, perhaps, not always quite convincing,
but forming in the main a most serious roll of crime. History
teaches us that the greatest rascals often possess all the
domestic virtues; and I fear that your cultivated friend, in
spite of the qualities which have won (and rightly) your regard,
has got to be speedily exterminated."
"Oh, you've been taking in all the yarns those fellows have been
telling you," said the Boy impatiently. "Why, our villagers
are the biggest story-tellers in all the country round. It's a
known fact. You're a stranger in these parts, or else you'd have
heard it already. All they want is a FIGHT. They're the most
awful beggars for getting up fights--it's meat and drink to them.
Dogs, bulls, dragons--anything so long as it's a fight. Why,
they've got a poor innocentbadger in the stable behind here, at
this moment. They were going to have some fun with him to-day,
but they're saving him up now till YOUR little affair's over.
And I've no doubt they've been telling you what a hero you were,
situation properly. When the other people find you out, they'll
come after you with spears and swords and all sorts of things.
You'll have to be exterminated, according to their way of
looking at it! You're a scourge, and a pest, and a baneful
monster!"
"Not a word of truth in it," said the dragon, wagging his head
solemnly. "Character'll bear the strictest investigation. And
now, there's a little sonnet-thing I was working on when you
appeared on the scene--"
"Oh, if you WON'T be sensible," cried the Boy, getting up,
"I'm going off home. No, I can't stop for sonnets; my mother's
sitting up. I'll look you up to-morrow, sometime or other, and
do for goodness' sake try and realize that you're a pestilential
scourge, or you'll find yourself in a most awful fix. Good-
night!"
The Boy found it an easy matter to set the mind of his parents'
at ease about his new friend. They had always left that branch
to him, and they took his word without a murmur. The shepherd
was formally introduced and many compliments and kind
inquiries were exchanged. His wife, however, though expressing
her willingness" target="_blank" title="n.情愿，乐意，自愿">willingness to do anything she could--to mend things, or set
the cave to rights, or cook a little something when the dragon
had been poring over sonnets and forgotten his meals, as male
things WILL do, could not be brought to recognize him
formally. The fact that he was a dragon and "they didn't know
who he was" seemed to count for everything with her. She made no
objection, however, to her little son spending his evenings with
the dragon quietly, so long as he was home by nine o'clock: and
many a pleasant night they had, sitting on the sward, while the
dragon told stories of old, old times, when dragons were quite
plentiful and the world was a livelier place than it is now, and
life was full of thrills and jumps and surprises.
What the Boy had feared, however, soon came to pass. The most
modest and retiring dragon in the world, if he's as big
as four cart-horses and covered with blue scales, cannot keep
altogether out of the public view. And so in the village tavern
of nights the fact that a real live dragon sat brooding in the
cave on the Downs was naturally a subject for talk. Though the
villagers were extremely frightened, they were rather proud as
well. It was a distinction to have a dragon of your own, and it
was felt to be a feather in the cap of the village. Still, all
were agreed that this sort of thing couldn't be allowed to go on.
The dreadful beast must be exterminated, the country-side must be
freed from this pest, this terror, this destroying scourge. The
fact that not even a hen roost was the worse for the dragon's
arrival wasn't allowed to have anything to do with it. He was a
dragon, and he couldn't deny it, and if he didn't choose to
behave as such that was his own lookout. But in spite of
much valiant talk no hero was found willing to take sword and
spear and free the suffering village and win deathless fame; and
each night's heated discussion always ended in nothing.
Meanwhile the dragon, a happy Bohemian, lolled on the turf,
enjoyed the sunsets, told antediluvian anecdotes to the Boy, and
polished his old verses while meditating on fresh ones.
One day the Boy, on walking in to the village, found everything
wearing a festal appearance which was not to be accounted for in
the calendar. Carpets and gay-coloured stuffs were hung out of
the windows, the church-bells clamoured noisily, the little
street was flower-strewn, and the whole population jostled each
other along either side of it, chattering, shoving, and ordering
each other to stand back. The Boy saw a friend of his own age in
the crowd and hailed him.
"What's up?" he cried. "Is it the players, or bears, or a
circus, or what?"
"It's all right," his friend hailed back. "He's a-coming."
"WHO'S a-coming?" demanded the Boy, thrusting into the throng.
"Why, St. George, of course," replied his friend. "He's heard
tell of our dragon, and he's comin' on purpose to slay the deadly
beast, and free us from his horrid yoke. O my! won't there be a
jolly fight!"
Here was news indeed! The Boy felt that he ought to make quite
sure for himself, and he wriggled himself in between the legs of
his good-natured elders, abusing them all the time for their
unmannerly habit of shoving. Once in the front rank, he
breathlessly awaited the arrival.
Presently from the far-away end of the line came the sound of
cheering. Next, the measured tramp of a great war-horse
made his heart beat quicker, and then he found himself cheering
with the rest, as, amidst welcoming shouts, shrill cries of
women, uplifting of babies and waving of handkerchiefs, St.
George paced slowly up the street. The Boy's heart stood still
and he breathed with sobs, the beauty and the grace of the hero
were so far beyond anything he had yet seen. His fluted armour
was inlaid with gold, his plumed helmet hung at his saddle-bow,
and his thick fair hair framed a face gracious and gentle beyond
expression till you caught the sternness in his eyes. He drew
rein in front of the little inn, and the villagers crowded round
with greetings and thanks and voluble statements of their wrongs
and grievances and oppressions. The Boy heard the grave gentle
voice of the Saint, assuring them that all would be well
now, and that he would stand by them and see them righted
and free them from their foe; then he dismounted and passed
through the doorway and the crowd poured in after him. But the
Boy made off up the hill as fast as he could lay his legs to the
ground.
"It's all up, dragon!" he shouted as soon as he was within sight
of the beast. "He's coming! He's here now! You'll have to pull
yourself together and DO something at last!"
The dragon was licking his scales and rubbing them with a bit of
house-flannel the Boy's mother had lent him, till he shone like a
great turquoise.
"Don't be VIOLENT, Boy," he said without looking round. "Sit
down and get your breath, and try and remember that the noun
governs the verb, and then perhaps you'll be good enough to tell
me WHO'S coming?"
"That's right, take it coolly," said the Boy. "Hope you'll be
half as cool when I've got through with my news. It's only St.
George who's coming, that's all; he rode into the village half-
an-hour ago. Of course you can lick him--a great big fellow like
you! But I thought I'd warn you, 'cos he's sure to be round
early, and he's got the longest, wickedest-looking spear you ever
did see!" And the Boy got up and began to jump round in sheer
delight at the prospect of the battle.
"O deary, deary me," moaned the dragon; "this is too awful. I
won't see him, and that's flat. I don't want to know the fellow
at all. I'm sure he's not nice. You must tell him to go away at
once, please. Say he can write if he likes, but I can't give him
an interview. I'm not seeing anybody at present."
"Now dragon, dragon," said the Boy imploringly, "don't be
perverse and wrongheaded. You've GOT to fight him some time
or other, you know, 'cos he's St. George and you're the dragon.
Better get it over, and then we can go on with the sonnets. And
you ought to consider other people a little, too. If it's been
dull up here for you, think how dull it's been for me!"
"My dear little man," said the dragonsolemnly, "just understand,
once for all, that I can't fight and I won't fight. I've never
fought in my life, and I'm not going to begin now, just to give
you a Roman holiday. In old days I always let the other
fellows--the EARNEST fellows--do all the fighting, and no
doubt that's why I have the pleasure of being here now."
"But if you don't fight he'll cut your head off!" gasped the Boy,
miserable at the prospect of losing both his fight and his
friend.
"Oh, I think not," said the dragon in his lazy way. "You'll be
able to arrange something. I've every confidence in you, you're
such a MANAGER. Just run down, there's a dear chap, and make
it all right. I leave it entirely to you."
The Boy made his way back to the village in a state of great
despondency. First of all, there wasn't going to be any fight;
next, his dear and honoured friend the dragon hadn't shown up in
quite such a heroic light as he would have liked; and lastly,
whether the dragon was a hero at heart or not, it made no
difference, for St. George would most undoubtedly cut his head
off. "Arrange things indeed!" he said bitterly to himself. "The
dragon treats the whole affair as if it was an invitation to tea
and croquet."
The villagers were straggling homewards as he passed up the
street, all of them in the highest spirits, and gleefully
discussing the splendid fight that was in store. The Boy pursued
his way to the inn, and passed into the principalchamber, where
St. George now sat alone, musing over the chances of the fight,
and the sad stories of rapine and of wrong that had so lately
been poured into his sympathetic ears.
"May I come in, St. George?" said the Boy politely, as he paused
at the door. "I want to talk to you about this little matter of
the dragon, if you're not tired of it by this time."
"Yes, come in, Boy," said the Saint kindly. "Another tale of
misery and wrong, I fear me. Is it a kind parent, then, of whom
the tyrant has bereft you? Or some tender sister or brother?
Well, it shall soon be avenged."
"Nothing of the sort," said the Boy. "There's a misunderstanding
somewhere, and I want to put it right. The fact is, this is
a GOOD dragon."
"Exactly," said St. George, smiling pleasantly, "I quite
understand. A good DRAGON. Believe me, I do not in the least
regret that he is an adversaryworthy of my steel, and no feeble
specimen of his noxious tribe."
"But he's NOT a noxious tribe," cried the Boy distressedly.
"Oh dear, oh dear, how STUPID men are when they get an idea
into their heads! I tell you he's a GOOD dragon, and a friend
of mine, and tells me the most beautiful stories you ever heard,
all about old times and when he was little. And he's been so
kind to mother, and mother'd do anything for him. And father
likes him too, though father doesn't hold with art and poetry
much, and always falls asleep when the dragon starts talking
about STYLE. But the fact is, nobody can help liking him when
once they know him. He's so engaging and so trustful, and
as simple as a child!"
"Sit down, and draw your chair up," said St. George. "I like a
fellow who sticks up for his friends, and I'm sure the dragon has
his good points, if he's got a friend like you. But that's not
the question. All this evening I've been listening, with grief
and anguishunspeakable, to tales of murder, theft, and wrong;
rather too highly coloured, perhaps, not always quite convincing,
but forming in the main a most serious roll of crime. History
teaches us that the greatest rascals often possess all the
domestic virtues; and I fear that your cultivated friend, in
spite of the qualities which have won (and rightly) your regard,
has got to be speedily exterminated."
"Oh, you've been taking in all the yarns those fellows have been
telling you," said the Boy impatiently. "Why, our villagers
are the biggest story-tellers in all the country round. It's a
known fact. You're a stranger in these parts, or else you'd have
heard it already. All they want is a FIGHT. They're the most
awful beggars for getting up fights--it's meat and drink to them.
Dogs, bulls, dragons--anything so long as it's a fight. Why,
they've got a poor innocentbadger in the stable behind here, at
this moment. They were going to have some fun with him to-day,
but they're saving him up now till YOUR little affair's over.
And I've no doubt they've been telling you what a hero you were,
- properly [´prɔpəli]
ad.适当地；严格地 (初中英语单词) - dragon [´drægən] n.龙 (初中英语单词)
- investigation [in,vesti´geiʃən] n.调查(研究) (初中英语单词)
- working [´wə:kiŋ] a.工人的；劳动的 (初中英语单词)
- sometime [´sʌmtaim] ad.曾经 a.从前的 (初中英语单词)
- extremely [ik´stri:mli] ad.极端地；非常地 (初中英语单词)
- distinction [di´stiŋkʃən] n.差别；特征；卓越 (初中英语单词)
- feather [´feðə] n.羽毛 (初中英语单词)
- dreadful [´dredful] a.可怕的；讨厌的 (初中英语单词)
- terror [´terə] n.恐怖；惊骇 (初中英语单词)
- willing [´wiliŋ] a.情愿的，乐意的 (初中英语单词)
- suffering [´sʌfəriŋ] n.痛苦；灾害 (初中英语单词)
- discussion [di´skʌʃən] n.讨论；辩论 (初中英语单词)
- helmet [´helmit] n.钢盔 (初中英语单词)
- gracious [´greiʃəs] a.和蔼可亲的；任慈的 (初中英语单词)
- doorway [´dɔ:wei] n.门口 (初中英语单词)
- violent [´vaiələnt] a.强暴的；猛烈的 (初中英语单词)
- breath [breθ] n.呼吸；气息 (初中英语单词)
- prospect [´prɔspekt, prəs´pekt] n.景色；境界 v.勘察 (初中英语单词)
- interview [´intəvju:] n.&vt.接见；会见；交谈 (初中英语单词)
- holiday [´hɔlidi] n.假日，假期，节日 (初中英语单词)
- earnest [´ə:nist] a.认真的 n.认真；诚恳 (初中英语单词)
- manager [´mænidʒə] n.经理；管理人；干事 (初中英语单词)
- undoubtedly [ʌn´dautidli] ad.无疑地，确实地 (初中英语单词)
- bitterly [´bitəli] ad.悲痛地；憎恨地 (初中英语单词)
- invitation [,invi´teiʃən] n.邀请；请帖；吸引 (初中英语单词)
- principal [´prinsəpəl] a.主要的 n.负责人 (初中英语单词)
- sympathetic [,simpə´θetik] a.同情的，有同情心的 (初中英语单词)
- worthy [´wə:ði] a.有价值的；值得的 (初中英语单词)
- stupid [´stju:pid] a.愚蠢的；糊涂的 (初中英语单词)
- innocent [´inəsənt] a.无罪的；单纯的 (初中英语单词)
- stable [´steibəl] n.马棚 a.稳固的 (初中英语单词)
- scourge [skə:dʒ] v.&n.鞭(打)；严惩 (高中英语单词)
- calendar [´kælində] n.日历；月历；历法 (高中英语单词)
- horrid [´hɔrid] a.令人讨厌的；极糟的 (高中英语单词)
- shrill [ʃril] a.(声音)尖锐的 (高中英语单词)
- crowded [´kraudid] a.充(拥)满了的 (高中英语单词)
- seeing [si:iŋ] see的现在分词 n.视觉 (高中英语单词)
- solemnly [´sɔləmli] ad.严肃地，庄严地 (高中英语单词)
- heroic [hi´rəuik] a.英雄的，英勇的 (高中英语单词)
- homewards [´həumwədz] ad.&a.回家(的) (高中英语单词)
- chamber [´tʃeimbə] n.房间；议院；会议室 (高中英语单词)
- politely [pə´laitli] ad.温和地；文雅地 (高中英语单词)
- tyrant [´taiərənt] n.暴君；霸主；专制君主 (高中英语单词)
- pleasantly [´plezntli] ad.令人愉快地；舒适地 (高中英语单词)
- anguish [´æŋgwiʃ] n.(极度的)痛苦；苦恼 (高中英语单词)
- badger [´bædʒə] n.獾；獾皮(毛) (高中英语单词)
- formally [´fɔ:məli] ad.形式地，正式地 (英语四级单词)
- lookout [´lukaut] n.警戒；景色；前途 (英语四级单词)
- valiant [´væliənt] a.勇敢的，英勇的 (英语四级单词)
- good-natured [´gud-´neitʃəd] a.脾气好的，温厚的 (英语四级单词)
- amidst [ə´midst] prep.=amid (英语四级单词)
- adversary [´ædvəsəri] n.敌手，对手 (英语四级单词)
- speedily [´spi:dili] ad.迅速地 (英语四级单词)
- impatiently [im´peiʃəntli] ad.不耐烦地，急躁地 (英语四级单词)
- willingness [´wiliŋnis] n.情愿，乐意，自愿 (英语六级单词)
- bereft [bi´reft] bereave的过去分词 (英语六级单词)
- liking [´laikiŋ] n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 (英语六级单词)
- unspeakable [ʌn´spi:kəbl] a.不能以言语表达的 (英语六级单词)
- cultivated [´kʌltiveitid] a.在耕作的；有教养的 (英语六级单词)
- taking [´teikiŋ] a.迷人的 n.捕获物 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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