章节正文
These are the directions for finding the I office of Carteret &
Carteret, Mill Supplies and Leather Belting:
You follow the Broadway trail down until you pass the Crosstown Line,
the Bread Line, and the Dead Line, and come to the Big Canons of the
Moneygrubber Tribe. Then you turn to the left, to the right, dodge a
push-cart and the tongue of a two-ton, four-horse dray and hop, skip,
and jump to a granite ledge on the side of a twenty-one-story
synthetic mountain of stone and iron. In the twelfth story is the
office of Carteret & Carteret. The factory where they make the mill
supplies and leather belting is in Brooklyn. Those commodities--to
say nothing of Brooklyn--not being of interest to you, let us hold the
incidents within the confines of a one-act, one-scene play, thereby
lessening the toil of the reader and the expenditure of the publisher.
So, if you have the courage to face four pages of type and Carteret &
Carteret's office boy, Percival, you shall sit on a varnished chair in
the inner office and peep at the little comedy of the Old Nigger Man,
the Hunting-Case Watch, and the Open-Faced Question--mostly borrowed
from the late Mr. Frank Stockton, as you will conclude.
First, biography (but pared to the quick) must intervene. I am for
the inverted sugar-coated quinine pill--the bitter on the outside.
The Carterets were, or was (Columbia College professors please rule),
an old Virginia family. Long time ago the gentlemen of the family had
worn lace ruffles and carried tinless foils and owned plantations and
had slaves to burn. But the war had greatly reduced their holdings.
(Of course you can perceive at once that this flavor has been
shoplifted from Mr. F. Hopkinson Smith, in spite of the "et" after
"Carter.") Well, anyhow:
In digging up the Carteret history I shall not take you farther back
than the year 1620. The two original American Carterets came over in
that year, but by different means of transportation. One brother,
named John, came in the Mayflower and became a Pilgrim Father. You've
seen his picture on the covers of the Thanksgiving magazines, hunting
turkeys in the deep snow with a blunderbuss. Blandford Carteret, the
other brother, crossed the pond in his own brigantine, landed on the
Virginia coast, and became an F.F.V. John became distinguished for
piety and shrewdness in business; Blandford for his pride, juleps;
marksmanship, and vast slave-cultivated plantations.
Then came the Civil War. (I must condense this historical
interpolation.) Stonewall Jackson was shot; Lee surrendered; Grant
toured the world; cotton went to nine cents; Old Crow whiskey and Jim
Crow cars were invented; the Seventy-ninth Massachusetts Volunteers
returned to the Ninety-seventh Alabama Zouaves the battle flag of
Lundy's Lane which they bought at a second-hand store in Chelsea kept
by a man named Skzchnzski; Georgia sent the President a sixty-pound
watermelon--and that brings us up to the time when the story begins.
My! but that was sparring for an opening! I really must brush op on
my Aristotle.
The Yankee Carterets went into business in New York long before the
war. Their house, as far as Leather Belting and Mill Supplies was
concerned, was as musty and arrogant and solid as one of those old
East India tea-importing concerns that you read about in Dickens.
There were some rumors of a war behind its counters, but not enough to
affect the business.
During and after the war, Blandford Carteret, F.F.V., lost his
plantations, juleps, marksmanship, and life. He bequeathed little
more than his pride to his surviving family. So it came to pass that
Blandford Carteret, the Fifth, aged fifteen, was invited by the
leather-and-millsupplies branch of that name to come North and learn
business instead of hunting foxes and boasting of the glory of his
fathers on the reduced acres of his impoverished family. The boy
jumped at the chance; and, at the age of twenty-five, sat in the
office of the firm equal partner with John, the Fifth, of the
blunderbuss-and-turkey branch. Here the story begins again.
The young men were about the same age, smooth of face, alert, easy of
manner, and with an air that promised mental and physical quickness.
They were razored, blue-serged, straw-hatted, and pearl stick-pinned
like other young New Yorkers who might be millionaires or bill clerks.
One afternoon at four o'clock, in the private office of the firm,
Blandford Carteret opened a letter that a clerk had just brought to
his desk. After reading it, he chuckled audibly for nearly a minute.
John looked around from his desk inquiringly.
"It's from mother," said Blandford. "I'll read you the funny part of
it. She tells me all the neighborhood news first, of course, and then
cautions me against getting my feet wet and musical comedies. After
that come some vital statistics about calves and pigs and an estimate
of the wheat crop. And now I'll quote some:
"'And what do you think! Old Uncle Jake, who was seventy-six last
Wednesday, must go travelling. Nothing would do but he must go to New
York and see his "young Marster Blandford." Old as he is, he has a
deal of common sense, so I've let him go. I couldn't refuse him--he
seemed to have concentrated all his hopes and desires into this one
adventure into the wide world. You know he was born on the
plantation, and has never been ten miles away from it in his life.
And he was your father's body servant during the war, and has been
always a faithfulvassal and servant of the family. He has often seen
the gold watch--the watch that was your father's and your father's
father's. I told him it was to be yours, And he begged me to allow
him to take it to you and to put it into your hands himself.
"'So he has it, carefully inclosed in a buck-skin case, and is
bringing it to you with all the pride and importance of a king's
messenger. I gave him money for the round trip and for a two weeks'
stay in the city. I wish you would see to it that he gets comfortable
quarters--Jake won't need much looking after--he's able to take care
of himself. But I have read in the papers that African bishops and
colored potentates generally have much trouble in obtaining food and
lodging in the Yankee metropolis. That may be all right; but I don't
see why the best hotel there shouldn't take Jake in. Still, I suppose
it's a rule.
"'I gave him full directions about finding you, and packed his valise
myself. You won't have to bother with him; but I do hope you'll see
that he is made comfortable. Take the watch that he brings you--it's
almost a decoration. It has been worn by true Carterets, and there
isn't a stain upon it nor a false movement of the wheels. Bringing it
to you is the crowning joy of old Jake's life. I wanted him to have
that little outing and that happiness before it is too late. You have
often heard us talk about how Jake, pretty badly wounded himself,
crawled through the reddened grass at Chancellorsville to where your
father lay with the bullet in his dear heart, and took the watch from
his pocket to keep it from the "Yanks."
"'So, my son, when the old man comes consider him as a frail but
worthy messenger from the old-time life and home.
"'You have been so long away from home and so long among the people
that we have always regarded as aliens that I'm not sure that Jake
will know you when he sees you. But Jake has a keen perception, and I
rather believe that he will know a Virginia Carteret at sight. I
can't conceive that even ten years in Yankee-land could change a boy
of mine. Anyhow, I'm sure you will know Jake. I put eighteen collars
in his valise. If he should have to buy others, he wears a number 15
1/2. Please see that he gets the right ones. He will be no trouble
to you at all.
"'If you are not too busy, I'd like for you to find him a place to
board where they have white-meal corn-bread, and try to keep him from
taking his shoes off in your office or on the street. His right foot
swells a little, and he likes to be comfortable.
"'If you can spare the time, count his handkerchiefs when they come
back from the wash. I bought him a dozen new ones before he left. He
should be there about the time this letter reaches you. I told him to
go straight to your office when he arrives.'"
As soon as Blandford had finished the reading of this, something
happened (as there should happen in stories and must happen on the
stage).
Percival, the office boy, with his air of despising the world's output
of mill supplies and leather belting, came in to announce that a
colored gentleman was outside to see Mr. Blandford Carteret.
"Bring him in," said Blandford, rising.
John Carteret swung around in his chair and said to Percival: "Ask
him to wait a few minutes outside. We'll let you know when to bring
him in."
Then he turned to his cousin with one of those broad, slow smiles that
was an inheritance of all the Carterets, and said:
"Bland, I've always had a consuming curiosity to understand the
differences that you haughty Southerners believe to exist between 'you
all ' and the people of the North. Of course, I know that you
consider yourselves made out of finer clay and look upon Adam as only
a collateral branch of your ancestry; but I don't know why. I never
could understand the differences between us."
"Well, John," said Blandford, laughing, "what you don't understand
about it is just the difference, of course. I suppose it was the
feudal way in which we lived that gave us our lordly baronial airs and
feeling of superiority."
"But you are not feudal, now," went on John. "Since we licked you and
stole your cotton and mules you've had to go to work just as we
'damyankees,' as you call us, have always been doing. And you're just
as proud and exclusive and upper-classy as you were before the war.
So it wasn't your money that caused it."
"Maybe it was the climate," said Blandford, lightly, "or maybe our
negroes spoiled us. I'll call old Jake in, now. I'll be glad to see
the old villain again."
"Wait just a moment," said John. "I've got a little theory I want to
test. You and I are pretty much alike in our general appearance. Old
Jake hasn't seen you since you were fifteen. Let's have him in and
play fair and see which of us gets the watch. The old darky surrey
ought to be able to pick out his 'young marster' without any trouble.
The alleged aristocraticsuperiority of a 'reb' ought to be visible to
him at once. He couldn't make the mistake of handing over the
timepiece to a Yankee, of course. The loser buys the dinner this
evening and two dozen 15 1/2 collars for Jake. Is it a go?"
Blandford agreed heartily. Percival was summoned, and told to usher
the "colored gentleman" in.
Uncle Jake stepped inside the private office cautiously. He was a
little old man, as black as soot, wrinkled and bald except for a
fringe of white wool, cut decorously short, that ran over his ears and
around his head. There was nothing of the stage "uncle" about him:
his black suit nearly fitted him; his shoes shone, and his straw hat
was banded with a gaudy ribbon. In his right hand he carried
something carefully concealed by his closed fingers.
Uncle Jake stopped a few steps from the door. Two young men sat in
their revolving desk-chairs ten feet apart and looked at him in
friendly silence. His gaze slowly shifted many times from one to the
other. He felt sure that he was in the presence of one, at least, of
the revered family among whose fortunes his life had begun and was to
end.
One had the pleasing but haughty Carteret air; the other had the
unmistakable straight, long family nose. Both had the keen black
eyes, horizontal brows, and thin, smiling lips that had distinguished
both the Carteret of the Mayflower and him of the brigantine. Old
Jake had thought that he could have picked out his young master
instantly from a thousand Northerners; but he found himself in
difficulties. The best he could do was to use strategy.
"Howdy, Marse Blandford--howdy, suh ?" he said, looking midway between
the two young men.
"Howdy, Uncle Jake?" they both answered pleasantly and in unison.
"Sit down. Have you brought the watch ?"
Uncle Jake chose a hard-bottom chair at a respectful distance, sat on
the edge of it, and laid his hat carefully on the floor. The watch in
its buckskin case he gripped tightly. He had not risked his life on
the battle-field to rescue that watch from his "old marster's" foes to
hand it over again to the enemy without a struggle.
"Yes, suh; I got it in my hand, suh. I'm gwine give it to you right
away in jus' a minute. Old Missus told me to put it in young Marse
Blandford's hand and tell him to wear it for the family pride and
Carteret, Mill Supplies and Leather Belting:
You follow the Broadway trail down until you pass the Crosstown Line,
the Bread Line, and the Dead Line, and come to the Big Canons of the
Moneygrubber Tribe. Then you turn to the left, to the right, dodge a
push-cart and the tongue of a two-ton, four-horse dray and hop, skip,
and jump to a granite ledge on the side of a twenty-one-story
synthetic mountain of stone and iron. In the twelfth story is the
office of Carteret & Carteret. The factory where they make the mill
supplies and leather belting is in Brooklyn. Those commodities--to
say nothing of Brooklyn--not being of interest to you, let us hold the
incidents within the confines of a one-act, one-scene play, thereby
lessening the toil of the reader and the expenditure of the publisher.
So, if you have the courage to face four pages of type and Carteret &
Carteret's office boy, Percival, you shall sit on a varnished chair in
the inner office and peep at the little comedy of the Old Nigger Man,
the Hunting-Case Watch, and the Open-Faced Question--mostly borrowed
from the late Mr. Frank Stockton, as you will conclude.
First, biography (but pared to the quick) must intervene. I am for
the inverted sugar-coated quinine pill--the bitter on the outside.
The Carterets were, or was (Columbia College professors please rule),
an old Virginia family. Long time ago the gentlemen of the family had
worn lace ruffles and carried tinless foils and owned plantations and
had slaves to burn. But the war had greatly reduced their holdings.
(Of course you can perceive at once that this flavor has been
shoplifted from Mr. F. Hopkinson Smith, in spite of the "et" after
"Carter.") Well, anyhow:
In digging up the Carteret history I shall not take you farther back
than the year 1620. The two original American Carterets came over in
that year, but by different means of transportation. One brother,
named John, came in the Mayflower and became a Pilgrim Father. You've
seen his picture on the covers of the Thanksgiving magazines, hunting
turkeys in the deep snow with a blunderbuss. Blandford Carteret, the
other brother, crossed the pond in his own brigantine, landed on the
Virginia coast, and became an F.F.V. John became distinguished for
piety and shrewdness in business; Blandford for his pride, juleps;
marksmanship, and vast slave-cultivated plantations.
Then came the Civil War. (I must condense this historical
interpolation.) Stonewall Jackson was shot; Lee surrendered; Grant
toured the world; cotton went to nine cents; Old Crow whiskey and Jim
Crow cars were invented; the Seventy-ninth Massachusetts Volunteers
returned to the Ninety-seventh Alabama Zouaves the battle flag of
Lundy's Lane which they bought at a second-hand store in Chelsea kept
by a man named Skzchnzski; Georgia sent the President a sixty-pound
watermelon--and that brings us up to the time when the story begins.
My! but that was sparring for an opening! I really must brush op on
my Aristotle.
The Yankee Carterets went into business in New York long before the
war. Their house, as far as Leather Belting and Mill Supplies was
concerned, was as musty and arrogant and solid as one of those old
East India tea-importing concerns that you read about in Dickens.
There were some rumors of a war behind its counters, but not enough to
affect the business.
During and after the war, Blandford Carteret, F.F.V., lost his
plantations, juleps, marksmanship, and life. He bequeathed little
more than his pride to his surviving family. So it came to pass that
Blandford Carteret, the Fifth, aged fifteen, was invited by the
leather-and-millsupplies branch of that name to come North and learn
business instead of hunting foxes and boasting of the glory of his
fathers on the reduced acres of his impoverished family. The boy
jumped at the chance; and, at the age of twenty-five, sat in the
office of the firm equal partner with John, the Fifth, of the
blunderbuss-and-turkey branch. Here the story begins again.
The young men were about the same age, smooth of face, alert, easy of
manner, and with an air that promised mental and physical quickness.
They were razored, blue-serged, straw-hatted, and pearl stick-pinned
like other young New Yorkers who might be millionaires or bill clerks.
One afternoon at four o'clock, in the private office of the firm,
Blandford Carteret opened a letter that a clerk had just brought to
his desk. After reading it, he chuckled audibly for nearly a minute.
John looked around from his desk inquiringly.
"It's from mother," said Blandford. "I'll read you the funny part of
it. She tells me all the neighborhood news first, of course, and then
cautions me against getting my feet wet and musical comedies. After
that come some vital statistics about calves and pigs and an estimate
of the wheat crop. And now I'll quote some:
"'And what do you think! Old Uncle Jake, who was seventy-six last
Wednesday, must go travelling. Nothing would do but he must go to New
York and see his "young Marster Blandford." Old as he is, he has a
deal of common sense, so I've let him go. I couldn't refuse him--he
seemed to have concentrated all his hopes and desires into this one
adventure into the wide world. You know he was born on the
plantation, and has never been ten miles away from it in his life.
And he was your father's body servant during the war, and has been
always a faithfulvassal and servant of the family. He has often seen
the gold watch--the watch that was your father's and your father's
father's. I told him it was to be yours, And he begged me to allow
him to take it to you and to put it into your hands himself.
"'So he has it, carefully inclosed in a buck-skin case, and is
bringing it to you with all the pride and importance of a king's
messenger. I gave him money for the round trip and for a two weeks'
stay in the city. I wish you would see to it that he gets comfortable
quarters--Jake won't need much looking after--he's able to take care
of himself. But I have read in the papers that African bishops and
colored potentates generally have much trouble in obtaining food and
lodging in the Yankee metropolis. That may be all right; but I don't
see why the best hotel there shouldn't take Jake in. Still, I suppose
it's a rule.
"'I gave him full directions about finding you, and packed his valise
myself. You won't have to bother with him; but I do hope you'll see
that he is made comfortable. Take the watch that he brings you--it's
almost a decoration. It has been worn by true Carterets, and there
isn't a stain upon it nor a false movement of the wheels. Bringing it
to you is the crowning joy of old Jake's life. I wanted him to have
that little outing and that happiness before it is too late. You have
often heard us talk about how Jake, pretty badly wounded himself,
crawled through the reddened grass at Chancellorsville to where your
father lay with the bullet in his dear heart, and took the watch from
his pocket to keep it from the "Yanks."
"'So, my son, when the old man comes consider him as a frail but
worthy messenger from the old-time life and home.
"'You have been so long away from home and so long among the people
that we have always regarded as aliens that I'm not sure that Jake
will know you when he sees you. But Jake has a keen perception, and I
rather believe that he will know a Virginia Carteret at sight. I
can't conceive that even ten years in Yankee-land could change a boy
of mine. Anyhow, I'm sure you will know Jake. I put eighteen collars
in his valise. If he should have to buy others, he wears a number 15
1/2. Please see that he gets the right ones. He will be no trouble
to you at all.
"'If you are not too busy, I'd like for you to find him a place to
board where they have white-meal corn-bread, and try to keep him from
taking his shoes off in your office or on the street. His right foot
swells a little, and he likes to be comfortable.
"'If you can spare the time, count his handkerchiefs when they come
back from the wash. I bought him a dozen new ones before he left. He
should be there about the time this letter reaches you. I told him to
go straight to your office when he arrives.'"
As soon as Blandford had finished the reading of this, something
happened (as there should happen in stories and must happen on the
stage).
Percival, the office boy, with his air of despising the world's output
of mill supplies and leather belting, came in to announce that a
colored gentleman was outside to see Mr. Blandford Carteret.
"Bring him in," said Blandford, rising.
John Carteret swung around in his chair and said to Percival: "Ask
him to wait a few minutes outside. We'll let you know when to bring
him in."
Then he turned to his cousin with one of those broad, slow smiles that
was an inheritance of all the Carterets, and said:
"Bland, I've always had a consuming curiosity to understand the
differences that you haughty Southerners believe to exist between 'you
all ' and the people of the North. Of course, I know that you
consider yourselves made out of finer clay and look upon Adam as only
a collateral branch of your ancestry; but I don't know why. I never
could understand the differences between us."
"Well, John," said Blandford, laughing, "what you don't understand
about it is just the difference, of course. I suppose it was the
feudal way in which we lived that gave us our lordly baronial airs and
feeling of superiority."
"But you are not feudal, now," went on John. "Since we licked you and
stole your cotton and mules you've had to go to work just as we
'damyankees,' as you call us, have always been doing. And you're just
as proud and exclusive and upper-classy as you were before the war.
So it wasn't your money that caused it."
"Maybe it was the climate," said Blandford, lightly, "or maybe our
negroes spoiled us. I'll call old Jake in, now. I'll be glad to see
the old villain again."
"Wait just a moment," said John. "I've got a little theory I want to
test. You and I are pretty much alike in our general appearance. Old
Jake hasn't seen you since you were fifteen. Let's have him in and
play fair and see which of us gets the watch. The old darky surrey
ought to be able to pick out his 'young marster' without any trouble.
The alleged aristocraticsuperiority of a 'reb' ought to be visible to
him at once. He couldn't make the mistake of handing over the
timepiece to a Yankee, of course. The loser buys the dinner this
evening and two dozen 15 1/2 collars for Jake. Is it a go?"
Blandford agreed heartily. Percival was summoned, and told to usher
the "colored gentleman" in.
Uncle Jake stepped inside the private office cautiously. He was a
little old man, as black as soot, wrinkled and bald except for a
fringe of white wool, cut decorously short, that ran over his ears and
around his head. There was nothing of the stage "uncle" about him:
his black suit nearly fitted him; his shoes shone, and his straw hat
was banded with a gaudy ribbon. In his right hand he carried
something carefully concealed by his closed fingers.
Uncle Jake stopped a few steps from the door. Two young men sat in
their revolving desk-chairs ten feet apart and looked at him in
friendly silence. His gaze slowly shifted many times from one to the
other. He felt sure that he was in the presence of one, at least, of
the revered family among whose fortunes his life had begun and was to
end.
One had the pleasing but haughty Carteret air; the other had the
unmistakable straight, long family nose. Both had the keen black
eyes, horizontal brows, and thin, smiling lips that had distinguished
both the Carteret of the Mayflower and him of the brigantine. Old
Jake had thought that he could have picked out his young master
instantly from a thousand Northerners; but he found himself in
difficulties. The best he could do was to use strategy.
"Howdy, Marse Blandford--howdy, suh ?" he said, looking midway between
the two young men.
"Howdy, Uncle Jake?" they both answered pleasantly and in unison.
"Sit down. Have you brought the watch ?"
Uncle Jake chose a hard-bottom chair at a respectful distance, sat on
the edge of it, and laid his hat carefully on the floor. The watch in
its buckskin case he gripped tightly. He had not risked his life on
the battle-field to rescue that watch from his "old marster's" foes to
hand it over again to the enemy without a struggle.
"Yes, suh; I got it in my hand, suh. I'm gwine give it to you right
away in jus' a minute. Old Missus told me to put it in young Marse
Blandford's hand and tell him to wear it for the family pride and
- virginia [və´dʒinjə]
n.佛吉尼亚(州) (初中英语单词) - perceive [pə´si:v] vt.察觉；看出；领悟 (初中英语单词)
- flavor [´fleivə] n.滋味 vt.给....调味 (初中英语单词)
- transportation [,trænspɔ:´teiʃən] n.运输；运送；运费 (初中英语单词)
- condense [kən´dens] v.凝结；节略；摘要 (初中英语单词)
- second-hand [,sekənd´hænd] a.用过的；间接的 (初中英语单词)
- yankee [´jæŋki] n.美国佬；美国公民 (初中英语单词)
- partner [´pɑ:tnə] n.伙伴 v.同....合作 (初中英语单词)
- mental [´mentl] a.精神的；心理的 (初中英语单词)
- physical [´fizikəl] a.物质的；有形的 (初中英语单词)
- reading [´ri:diŋ] n.(阅)读；朗读；读物 (初中英语单词)
- neighborhood [´neibəhud] n.邻居；邻近；附近 (初中英语单词)
- musical [´mju:zikəl] a.音乐的；悦耳的 (初中英语单词)
- faithful [´feiθfəl] a.忠实的；可靠的 (初中英语单词)
- bother [´bɔðə] v.打扰 n.麻烦(事) (初中英语单词)
- decoration [,dekə´reiʃən] n.装饰(品)；装璜 (初中英语单词)
- movement [´mu:vmənt] n.活动；运动；动作 (初中英语单词)
- bullet [´bulit] n.子弹 (初中英语单词)
- messenger [´mesindʒə] n.使者；送信人 (初中英语单词)
- conceive [kən´si:v] v.设想；表达；怀孕 (初中英语单词)
- curiosity [,kjuəri´ɔsiti] n.好奇；奇事；珍品 (初中英语单词)
- lightly [´laitli] ad.轻微地，稍微 (初中英语单词)
- visible [´vizəbəl] a.可见的；明显的 (初中英语单词)
- ribbon [´ribən] n.缎带；带子；色带 (初中英语单词)
- rescue [´reskju:] vt.&n.救援；挽救 (初中英语单词)
- finding [´faindiŋ] n.发现物；判断；结果 (高中英语单词)
- broadway [´brɔ:dwei] n.&a.百老汇大街(的) (高中英语单词)
- granite [´grænit] n.花岗岩 (高中英语单词)
- expenditure [ik´spenditʃə] n.消费；经费；费用 (高中英语单词)
- comedy [´kɔmidi] n.喜剧；喜剧场面 (高中英语单词)
- intervene [,intə´vi:n] vi.干涉；插进 (高中英语单词)
- pilgrim [´pilgrim] n.旅行者；香客 (高中英语单词)
- thanksgiving [´θæŋks,giviŋ] 感恩节 (高中英语单词)
- distinguished [di´stiŋgwiʃt] a.卓越的，著名的 (高中英语单词)
- georgia [´dʒɔ:dʒjə] n.乔治亚 (高中英语单词)
- inheritance [in´heritəns] n.继承(物)；遗传；遗产 (高中英语单词)
- haughty [´hɔ:ti] a.傲慢的，高傲的 (高中英语单词)
- exclusive [ik´sklu:siv] a.独有的；集中的 (高中英语单词)
- heartily [´hɑ:tili] ad.衷心地；亲切地 (高中英语单词)
- cautiously [´kɔ:ʃəsli] ad.小心地；谨慎地 (高中英语单词)
- pleasing [´pli:ziŋ] a.使人愉快的；合意的 (高中英语单词)
- pleasantly [´plezntli] ad.令人愉快地；舒适地 (高中英语单词)
- tightly [´taitli] ad.紧，紧密地 (高中英语单词)
- missus [´misəz] n.(已婚的)...夫人 (高中英语单词)
- biography [bai´ɔgrəfi] n.传记(文学) (英语四级单词)
- whiskey [´wiski] n.威士忌酒 =whisky (英语四级单词)
- alabama [,ælə´bæmə] n.亚拉巴马(州) (英语四级单词)
- statistics [stə´tistiks] n.统计学；统计 (英语四级单词)
- calves [kɑ:vz] calf的复数 (英语四级单词)
- vassal [´væsəl] n.诸侯；封臣；属下 (英语四级单词)
- metropolis [mi´trɔpəlis] n.首都；大城市 (英语四级单词)
- old-time [´əuld-´taim] a.老资格的；古时的 (英语四级单词)
- perception [pə´sepʃən] n.感觉；概念；理解力 (英语四级单词)
- feudal [´fju:dl] a.封建的，封建制度的 (英语四级单词)
- villain [´vilən] n.坏人；恶棍；反面角色 (英语四级单词)
- aristocratic [,æristə´krætik] a.贵族政治的；贵族的 (英语四级单词)
- superiority [su:piəri´ɔriti, sju:-] n.优越，卓越 (英语四级单词)
- horizontal [,hɔri´zɔntl] a.水平的，横的 (英语四级单词)
- midway [,mid´wei] n.中途 ad.&a.中途(的) (英语四级单词)
- arrogant [´ærəgənt] a.傲慢的；自大的 (英语六级单词)
- hunting [´hʌntiŋ] n.打猎 (英语六级单词)
- lordly [´lɔ:dli] a.高贵的；高傲的 (英语六级单词)
- respectful [ri´spektfəl] a.恭敬的；尊敬人的 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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