章节正文
"That's so," said Billy.
"And where would yu' be then, Bill? In the street, out of friends, out of
Christmas, and left both ways, no tobaccer and no flapjacks. Now, Bill,
what do yu' say to us putting up a Christmas deal together? Just you and
me?"
"I'd like that," said Billy. "Is it all day?"
"I was thinkin' of all day," said Lin. "I'll not make yu' do anything
yu'd rather not."
"Ah, they can smoke without me," said Billy, with sudden acrimony. "I'll
see 'em to-morro'."
"That's you!" cried Mr. McLean. "Now, Bill, you hustle down and tell them
to keep a table for us. I'll get my clothes on and follow yu'."
The boy went, and Mr. McLean procured hot water and dressed himself,
tying his scarf with great care. "Wished I'd a clean shirt," said he.
"But I don't look very bad. Shavin' yesterday afternoon was a good move."
He picked up the arrow-head and the kinni-kinnic, and was particular to
store them in his safest pocket. "I ain't sure whether you're crazy or
not," said he to the man in the looking-glass. "I ain't never been sure."
And he slammed the door and went down-stairs.
He found young Bill on guard over a table for four, with all the chairs
tilted against it as warning to strangers. No one sat at any other table
or came into the room, for it was late, and the place quite emptied of
breakfasters, and the several entertained waiters had gathered behind
Billy's important-looking back. Lin provided a thorough meal, and Billy
pronounced the flannel cakes superior to flapjacks, which were not upon
the bill of fare.
"I'd like to see you often," said he. "I'll come and see you if you don't
live too far."
"That's the trouble," said the cow-puncher. "I do. Awful far." He stared
out of the window.
"Well, I might come some time. I wish you'd write me a letter. Can you
write?" "What's that? Can I write? Oh yes."
"I can write, an' I can read too. I've been to school in Sidney,
Nebraska, an' Magaw, Kansas, an' Salt Lake--that's the finest town except
Denver."
Billy fell into that cheerfulstrain of comment which, unreplied to, yet
goes on contented and self-sustaining, while Mr. McLean gave amiable
signs of assent, but chiefly looked out of the window; and when the now
interested waiter said respectfully that he desired to close the room,
they went out to the office, where the money was got out of the safe and
the bill paid.
The streets were full of the bright sun, and seemingly at Denver's gates
stood the mountains sparkling; an air crisp and pleasant wafted from
their peaks; no smoke hung among the roofs, and the sky spread wide over
the city without a stain; it was holiday up among the chimneys and tall
buildings, and down among the quiet ground-stories below as well; and
presently from their scattered pinnacles through the town the bells broke
out against the jocund silence of the morning.
"Don't you like music?" inquired Billy.
"Yes," said Lin.
Ladies with their husbands and children were passing and meeting, orderly
yet gayer than if it were only Sunday, and the salutations of Christmas
came now and again to the cow-puncher's ears; but to-day, possessor of
his own share in this, Lin looked at every one with a sort of friendly
challenge, and young Billy talked along beside him.
"Don't you think we could go in here?" Billy asked. A church door was
open, and the rich organ sounded through to the pavement. "They've good
music here, an' they keep it up without much talking between. I've been
in lots of times."
They went in and sat to hear the music. Better than the organ, it seemed
to them, were the harmonious voices raised from somewhere outside, like
unexpected visitants; and the pair sat in their back seat, too deep in
listening to the processional hymn to think of rising in decent imitation
of those around them. The crystalmelody of the refrain especially
reached their understandings, and when for the fourth time "Shout the
glad tidings, exultingly sing," pealed forth and ceased, both the
delighted faces fell.
"Don't you wish there was more?" Billy whispered.
"Wish there was a hundred verses," answered Lin.
But canticles and responses followed, with so little talking between them
they were held spellbound, seldom thinking to rise or kneel. Lin's eyes
roved over the church, dwelling upon the pillars in their evergreen, the
flowers and leafy wreaths, the texts of white and gold. "'Peace, good-
will towards men,'" he read. "That's so. Peace and good-will. Yes, that's
so. I expect they got that somewheres in the Bible. It's awful good, and
you'd never think of it yourself."
There was a touch on his arm, and a woman handed a book to him. "This is
the hymn we have now," she whispered, gently; and Lin, blushing scarlet,
took it passively without a word. He and Billy stood up and held the book
together, dutifully reading the words:
"It came upon the midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth
To touch their harps of gold;
Peace on the earth--"
This tune was more beautiful than all, and Lin lost himself in it, until
he found Billy recalling him with a finger upon the words, the concluding
ones:
"And the whole world sent back the song
Which now the angels sing."
The music rose and descended to its lovely and simple end; and, for a
second time in Denver, Lin brushed a hand across his eyes. He turned his
face from his neighbor, frowning crossly; and since the heart has reasons
which Reason does not know, he seemed to himself a fool; but when the
service was over and he came out, he repeated again, "'Peace and
good-will.' When I run on to the Bishop of Wyoming I'll tell him if he'll
preach on them words I'll be there."
"Couldn't we shoot your pistol now?" asked Billy.
"Sure, boy. Ain't yu' hungry, though?"
"No. I wish we were away off up there. Don't you?"
"The mountains? They look pretty, so white! A heap better 'n houses. Why,
we'll go there! There's trains to Golden. We'll shoot around among the
foothills."
To Golden they immediately went, and after a meal there, wandered in the
open country until the cartridges were gone, the sun was low, and Billy
was walked off his young heels--a truth he learned complete in one horrid
moment, and battled to conceal.
"Lame!" he echoed, angrily. "I ain't."
"Shucks!" said Lin, after the next ten steps. "You are, and both feet."
"Tell you, there's stones here, an' I'm just a-skipping them."
Lin, briefly, took the boy in his arms and carried him to Golden. "I'm
played out myself," he said, sitting in the hotel and looking
lugubriously at Billy on a bed. "And I ain't fit to have charge of a
hog." He came and put his hand on the boy's head.
"I'm not sick," said the cripple. "I tell you I'm bully. You wait an' see
me eat dinner."
But Lin had hot water and cold water and salt, and was an hour upon his
knees bathing the hot feet. And then Billy could not eat dinner!
There was a doctor in Golden; but in spite of his light prescription and
most reasonable observations, Mr. McLean passed a foolish night of vigil,
while Billy slept, quite well at first, and, as the hours passed, better
and better. In the morning he was entirely brisk, though stiff.
"I couldn't work quick to-day," he said. "But I guess one day won't lose
me my trade."
"How d' yu' mean?" asked Lin.
"Why, I've got regulars, you know. Sidney Ellis an' Pete Goode has
theirs, an' we don't cut each other. I've got Mr. Daniels an' Mr. Fisher
an' lots, an' if you lived in Denver I'd shine your boots every day for
nothing. I wished you lived in Denver."
"Shine my boots? Yu'll never! And yu' don't black Daniels or Fisher, or
any of the outfit."
"Why, I'm doing first-rate," said Billy, surprised at the swearing into
which Mr. McLean now burst. "An' I ain't big enough to get to make money
at any other job."
"I want to see that engine-man," muttered Lin. "I don't like your smokin'
friend."
"Pete Goode? Why, he's awful smart. Don't you think he's smart?"
"Smart's nothin'," observed Mr. McLean.
"Pete has learned me and Sidney a lot," pursued Billy, engagingly.
"I'll bet he has!" growled the cow-puncher; and again Billy was taken
aback at his language.
It was not so simple, this case. To the perturbed mind of Mr. McLean it
grew less simple during that day at Golden, while Billy recovered, and
talked, and ate his innocent meals. The cow-puncher was far too wise to
think for a single moment of restoring the runaway to his debauched and
shiftless parents. Possessed of some imagination, he went through a scene
in which he appeared at the Lusk threshold with Billy and forgiveness,
and intruded upon a conjugal assault and battery. "Shucks!" said he. "The
kid would be off again inside a week. And I don't want him there,
anyway."
Denver, upon the following day, saw the little bootblack again at his
corner, with his trade not lost; but near him stood a tall, singular man,
with hazel eyes and a sulky expression. And citizens during that week
noticed, as a new sight in the streets, the tall man and the little boy
walking together. Sometimes they would be in shops. The boy seemed as
happy as possible, talking constantly, while the man seldom said a word,
and his face was serious.
Upon New-year's Eve Governor Barker was overtaken by Mr. McLean riding a
horse up Hill Street, Cheyenne.
"Hello!" said Barker, staring humorously through his glasses. "Have a
good drunk?"
"Changed my mind," said Lin, grinning. "Proves I've got one. Struck
Christmas all right, though."
"Who's your friend?" inquired his Excellency.
"This is Mister Billy Lusk. Him and me have agreed that towns ain't nice
to live in. If Judge Henry's foreman and his wife won't board him at Sunk
Creek--why, I'll fix it somehow."
The cow-puncher and his Responsibility rode on together toward the open
plain.
"Sufferin Moses!" remarked his Excellency.
SEPAR'S VIGILANTE
We had fallen half asleep, my pony and I, as we went jogging and jogging
through the long sunny afternoon. Our hills of yesterday were a pale-blue
coast sunk almost away behind us, and ahead our goal lay shining, a
little island of houses in this quiet mid-ocean of sage-brush. For two
hours it had looked as clear and near as now, rising into sight across
the huge dead calm and sinking while we travelled our undulating,
imperceptible miles. The train had come and gone invisibly, except for
its slow pillar of smoke I had watched move westward against Wyoming's
stainless sky. Though I was still far off, the water-tank and other
buildings stood out plain and complete to my eyes, like children's blocks
arranged and forgotten on the floor. So I rode along, hypnotized by the
sameness of the lazy, splendid plain, and almost unaware of the distant
rider, till, suddenly, he was close and hailing me.
"They've caved!" he shouted.
"Who?" I cried, thus awakened.
"Ah, the fool company," said he, quieting his voice as he drew near.
"They've shed their haughtiness," he added, confidingly, as if I must
know all about it.
"Where did they learn that wisdom?" I asked, not knowing in the least.
"Experience," he called over his shoulder (for already we had met and
passed); "nothing like experience for sweating the fat off the brain."
He yelled me a brotherly good-bye, and I am sorry never to have known
more of him, for I incline to value any stranger so joyous. But now I
waked the pony and trotted briskly, surmising as to the company and its
haughtiness. I had been viewing my destination across the sagebrush for
so spun-out a time that (as constantly in Wyoming journeys) the emotion
of arrival had evaporated long before the event, and I welcomed
employment for my otherwise high-and-dry mind. Probably he meant the
railroad company; certainly something large had happened. Even as I
dismounted at the platform another hilarious cow-puncher came out of the
"And where would yu' be then, Bill? In the street, out of friends, out of
Christmas, and left both ways, no tobaccer and no flapjacks. Now, Bill,
what do yu' say to us putting up a Christmas deal together? Just you and
me?"
"I'd like that," said Billy. "Is it all day?"
"I was thinkin' of all day," said Lin. "I'll not make yu' do anything
yu'd rather not."
"Ah, they can smoke without me," said Billy, with sudden acrimony. "I'll
see 'em to-morro'."
"That's you!" cried Mr. McLean. "Now, Bill, you hustle down and tell them
to keep a table for us. I'll get my clothes on and follow yu'."
The boy went, and Mr. McLean procured hot water and dressed himself,
tying his scarf with great care. "Wished I'd a clean shirt," said he.
"But I don't look very bad. Shavin' yesterday afternoon was a good move."
He picked up the arrow-head and the kinni-kinnic, and was particular to
store them in his safest pocket. "I ain't sure whether you're crazy or
not," said he to the man in the looking-glass. "I ain't never been sure."
And he slammed the door and went down-stairs.
He found young Bill on guard over a table for four, with all the chairs
tilted against it as warning to strangers. No one sat at any other table
or came into the room, for it was late, and the place quite emptied of
breakfasters, and the several entertained waiters had gathered behind
Billy's important-looking back. Lin provided a thorough meal, and Billy
pronounced the flannel cakes superior to flapjacks, which were not upon
the bill of fare.
"I'd like to see you often," said he. "I'll come and see you if you don't
live too far."
"That's the trouble," said the cow-puncher. "I do. Awful far." He stared
out of the window.
"Well, I might come some time. I wish you'd write me a letter. Can you
write?" "What's that? Can I write? Oh yes."
"I can write, an' I can read too. I've been to school in Sidney,
Nebraska, an' Magaw, Kansas, an' Salt Lake--that's the finest town except
Denver."
Billy fell into that cheerfulstrain of comment which, unreplied to, yet
goes on contented and self-sustaining, while Mr. McLean gave amiable
signs of assent, but chiefly looked out of the window; and when the now
interested waiter said respectfully that he desired to close the room,
they went out to the office, where the money was got out of the safe and
the bill paid.
The streets were full of the bright sun, and seemingly at Denver's gates
stood the mountains sparkling; an air crisp and pleasant wafted from
their peaks; no smoke hung among the roofs, and the sky spread wide over
the city without a stain; it was holiday up among the chimneys and tall
buildings, and down among the quiet ground-stories below as well; and
presently from their scattered pinnacles through the town the bells broke
out against the jocund silence of the morning.
"Don't you like music?" inquired Billy.
"Yes," said Lin.
Ladies with their husbands and children were passing and meeting, orderly
yet gayer than if it were only Sunday, and the salutations of Christmas
came now and again to the cow-puncher's ears; but to-day, possessor of
his own share in this, Lin looked at every one with a sort of friendly
challenge, and young Billy talked along beside him.
"Don't you think we could go in here?" Billy asked. A church door was
open, and the rich organ sounded through to the pavement. "They've good
music here, an' they keep it up without much talking between. I've been
in lots of times."
They went in and sat to hear the music. Better than the organ, it seemed
to them, were the harmonious voices raised from somewhere outside, like
unexpected visitants; and the pair sat in their back seat, too deep in
listening to the processional hymn to think of rising in decent imitation
of those around them. The crystalmelody of the refrain especially
reached their understandings, and when for the fourth time "Shout the
glad tidings, exultingly sing," pealed forth and ceased, both the
delighted faces fell.
"Don't you wish there was more?" Billy whispered.
"Wish there was a hundred verses," answered Lin.
But canticles and responses followed, with so little talking between them
they were held spellbound, seldom thinking to rise or kneel. Lin's eyes
roved over the church, dwelling upon the pillars in their evergreen, the
flowers and leafy wreaths, the texts of white and gold. "'Peace, good-
will towards men,'" he read. "That's so. Peace and good-will. Yes, that's
so. I expect they got that somewheres in the Bible. It's awful good, and
you'd never think of it yourself."
There was a touch on his arm, and a woman handed a book to him. "This is
the hymn we have now," she whispered, gently; and Lin, blushing scarlet,
took it passively without a word. He and Billy stood up and held the book
together, dutifully reading the words:
"It came upon the midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth
To touch their harps of gold;
Peace on the earth--"
This tune was more beautiful than all, and Lin lost himself in it, until
he found Billy recalling him with a finger upon the words, the concluding
ones:
"And the whole world sent back the song
Which now the angels sing."
The music rose and descended to its lovely and simple end; and, for a
second time in Denver, Lin brushed a hand across his eyes. He turned his
face from his neighbor, frowning crossly; and since the heart has reasons
which Reason does not know, he seemed to himself a fool; but when the
service was over and he came out, he repeated again, "'Peace and
good-will.' When I run on to the Bishop of Wyoming I'll tell him if he'll
preach on them words I'll be there."
"Couldn't we shoot your pistol now?" asked Billy.
"Sure, boy. Ain't yu' hungry, though?"
"No. I wish we were away off up there. Don't you?"
"The mountains? They look pretty, so white! A heap better 'n houses. Why,
we'll go there! There's trains to Golden. We'll shoot around among the
foothills."
To Golden they immediately went, and after a meal there, wandered in the
open country until the cartridges were gone, the sun was low, and Billy
was walked off his young heels--a truth he learned complete in one horrid
moment, and battled to conceal.
"Lame!" he echoed, angrily. "I ain't."
"Shucks!" said Lin, after the next ten steps. "You are, and both feet."
"Tell you, there's stones here, an' I'm just a-skipping them."
Lin, briefly, took the boy in his arms and carried him to Golden. "I'm
played out myself," he said, sitting in the hotel and looking
lugubriously at Billy on a bed. "And I ain't fit to have charge of a
hog." He came and put his hand on the boy's head.
"I'm not sick," said the cripple. "I tell you I'm bully. You wait an' see
me eat dinner."
But Lin had hot water and cold water and salt, and was an hour upon his
knees bathing the hot feet. And then Billy could not eat dinner!
There was a doctor in Golden; but in spite of his light prescription and
most reasonable observations, Mr. McLean passed a foolish night of vigil,
while Billy slept, quite well at first, and, as the hours passed, better
and better. In the morning he was entirely brisk, though stiff.
"I couldn't work quick to-day," he said. "But I guess one day won't lose
me my trade."
"How d' yu' mean?" asked Lin.
"Why, I've got regulars, you know. Sidney Ellis an' Pete Goode has
theirs, an' we don't cut each other. I've got Mr. Daniels an' Mr. Fisher
an' lots, an' if you lived in Denver I'd shine your boots every day for
nothing. I wished you lived in Denver."
"Shine my boots? Yu'll never! And yu' don't black Daniels or Fisher, or
any of the outfit."
"Why, I'm doing first-rate," said Billy, surprised at the swearing into
which Mr. McLean now burst. "An' I ain't big enough to get to make money
at any other job."
"I want to see that engine-man," muttered Lin. "I don't like your smokin'
friend."
"Pete Goode? Why, he's awful smart. Don't you think he's smart?"
"Smart's nothin'," observed Mr. McLean.
"Pete has learned me and Sidney a lot," pursued Billy, engagingly.
"I'll bet he has!" growled the cow-puncher; and again Billy was taken
aback at his language.
It was not so simple, this case. To the perturbed mind of Mr. McLean it
grew less simple during that day at Golden, while Billy recovered, and
talked, and ate his innocent meals. The cow-puncher was far too wise to
think for a single moment of restoring the runaway to his debauched and
shiftless parents. Possessed of some imagination, he went through a scene
in which he appeared at the Lusk threshold with Billy and forgiveness,
and intruded upon a conjugal assault and battery. "Shucks!" said he. "The
kid would be off again inside a week. And I don't want him there,
anyway."
Denver, upon the following day, saw the little bootblack again at his
corner, with his trade not lost; but near him stood a tall, singular man,
with hazel eyes and a sulky expression. And citizens during that week
noticed, as a new sight in the streets, the tall man and the little boy
walking together. Sometimes they would be in shops. The boy seemed as
happy as possible, talking constantly, while the man seldom said a word,
and his face was serious.
Upon New-year's Eve Governor Barker was overtaken by Mr. McLean riding a
horse up Hill Street, Cheyenne.
"Hello!" said Barker, staring humorously through his glasses. "Have a
good drunk?"
"Changed my mind," said Lin, grinning. "Proves I've got one. Struck
Christmas all right, though."
"Who's your friend?" inquired his Excellency.
"This is Mister Billy Lusk. Him and me have agreed that towns ain't nice
to live in. If Judge Henry's foreman and his wife won't board him at Sunk
Creek--why, I'll fix it somehow."
The cow-puncher and his Responsibility rode on together toward the open
plain.
"Sufferin Moses!" remarked his Excellency.
SEPAR'S VIGILANTE
We had fallen half asleep, my pony and I, as we went jogging and jogging
through the long sunny afternoon. Our hills of yesterday were a pale-blue
coast sunk almost away behind us, and ahead our goal lay shining, a
little island of houses in this quiet mid-ocean of sage-brush. For two
hours it had looked as clear and near as now, rising into sight across
the huge dead calm and sinking while we travelled our undulating,
imperceptible miles. The train had come and gone invisibly, except for
its slow pillar of smoke I had watched move westward against Wyoming's
stainless sky. Though I was still far off, the water-tank and other
buildings stood out plain and complete to my eyes, like children's blocks
arranged and forgotten on the floor. So I rode along, hypnotized by the
sameness of the lazy, splendid plain, and almost unaware of the distant
rider, till, suddenly, he was close and hailing me.
"They've caved!" he shouted.
"Who?" I cried, thus awakened.
"Ah, the fool company," said he, quieting his voice as he drew near.
"They've shed their haughtiness," he added, confidingly, as if I must
know all about it.
"Where did they learn that wisdom?" I asked, not knowing in the least.
"Experience," he called over his shoulder (for already we had met and
passed); "nothing like experience for sweating the fat off the brain."
He yelled me a brotherly good-bye, and I am sorry never to have known
more of him, for I incline to value any stranger so joyous. But now I
waked the pony and trotted briskly, surmising as to the company and its
haughtiness. I had been viewing my destination across the sagebrush for
so spun-out a time that (as constantly in Wyoming journeys) the emotion
of arrival had evaporated long before the event, and I welcomed
employment for my otherwise high-and-dry mind. Probably he meant the
railroad company; certainly something large had happened. Even as I
dismounted at the platform another hilarious cow-puncher came out of the
- yesterday [´jestədi]
n.&ad.昨天；前不久 (初中英语单词) - cheerful [´tʃiəful] a.快乐的；高兴的 (初中英语单词)
- comment [´kɔment] n.&v.评论；评注；注意 (初中英语单词)
- chiefly [´tʃi:fli] ad.主要地；尤其 (初中英语单词)
- holiday [´hɔlidi] n.假日，假期，节日 (初中英语单词)
- crystal [´kristəl] n.水晶 a.水晶的 (初中英语单词)
- dwelling [´dweliŋ] n.住所；寓所 (初中英语单词)
- gently [´dʒentli] ad.温和地；静静地 (初中英语单词)
- reading [´ri:diŋ] n.(阅)读；朗读；读物 (初中英语单词)
- midnight [´midnait] n.午夜；漆黑 (初中英语单词)
- glorious [´glɔ:riəs] a.光荣的；辉煌的 (初中英语单词)
- bishop [´biʃəp] n.主教 (初中英语单词)
- pistol [´pistl] n.手枪 vt.用手枪射击 (初中英语单词)
- briefly [´bri:fli] ad.简短地；简略地 (初中英语单词)
- charge [tʃɑ:dʒ] v.收费；冲锋 n.费用 (初中英语单词)
- reasonable [´rizənəbəl] a.合理的；有理智的 (初中英语单词)
- innocent [´inəsənt] a.无罪的；单纯的 (初中英语单词)
- imagination [i,mædʒi´neiʃən] n.想象(力) (初中英语单词)
- assault [ə´sɔ:lt] vt.袭击；殴打 n.攻击 (初中英语单词)
- constantly [´kɔnstəntli] ad.经常地；不断地 (初中英语单词)
- governor [´gʌvənə] n.总督；州长 (初中英语单词)
- responsibility [ri,spɔnsə´biliti] n.责任(心)；职责；任务 (初中英语单词)
- knowing [´nəuiŋ] a.会意的，心照不宣的 (初中英语单词)
- incline [in´klain] v.(使)倾斜 n.斜坡 (初中英语单词)
- arrival [ə´raivəl] n.到达；到达的人(物) (初中英语单词)
- otherwise [´ʌðəwaiz] ad.另外 conj.否则 (初中英语单词)
- platform [´plætfɔ:m] n.(平)台；讲台；站台 (初中英语单词)
- thorough [´θʌrə] a.彻底的；详尽的 (高中英语单词)
- kansas [´kænzəs] n.堪萨斯(州) (高中英语单词)
- strain [strein] vt.拉紧 vi.拖 n.张力 (高中英语单词)
- contented [kən´tentid] a.满足的；心满意足的 (高中英语单词)
- assent [ə´sent] vi.&n.同意，赞成 (高中英语单词)
- pavement [´peivmənt] n.路面；铺筑材料 (高中英语单词)
- decent [´di:sənt] a.体面的，正派的 (高中英语单词)
- melody [´melədi] n.悦耳的音调；乐曲 (高中英语单词)
- refrain [ri´frein] v.抑制；忍住 n.迭句 (高中英语单词)
- tidings [´taidiŋz] n.消息，音信 (高中英语单词)
- repeated [ri´pi:tid] a.反复的；重复的 (高中英语单词)
- learned [´lə:nid] a.有学问的，博学的 (高中英语单词)
- angrily [´æŋgrili] ad.生气地；愤怒地 (高中英语单词)
- cripple [´kripəl] n.跛子 vt.使残疾 (高中英语单词)
- threshold [´θreʃhəuld] n.门槛；入门；开端 (高中英语单词)
- battery [´bætəri] n.炮兵连；炮台；电池 (高中英语单词)
- singular [´siŋgjulə] a.单一的；非凡的 (高中英语单词)
- pillar [´pilə] n.支柱 vt.用柱支持 (高中英语单词)
- westward [´westwəd] a.向西的 n.西方；西部 (高中英语单词)
- joyous [´dʒɔiəs] a.充满快乐的 (高中英语单词)
- destination [,desti´neiʃən] n.目标地 (高中英语单词)
- hustle [´hʌsəl] v.猛挤；催促 n.乱堆 (英语四级单词)
- warning [´wɔ:niŋ] n.警告；前兆 a.预告的 (英语四级单词)
- flannel [´flænl] n.法兰绒 (英语四级单词)
- waiter [´weitə] n.侍者，服务员 (英语四级单词)
- respectfully [ris´pektfuli] ad.恭敬地 (英语四级单词)
- seemingly [´si:miŋli] ad.表面上；似乎 (英语四级单词)
- harmonious [hɑ:məuniəs] a.协调的，悦耳的 (英语四级单词)
- evergreen [´evəgri:n] a.常绿的，常青的 (英语四级单词)
- denver [´denvə] n.丹佛(市) (英语四级单词)
- wyoming [wai´əumiŋ] n.怀俄明(州) (英语四级单词)
- fisher [´fiʃə] n.捕鱼人(船)；鱼貂 (英语四级单词)
- mister [´mistə] n.先生 vt.称...先生 (英语四级单词)
- foreman [´fɔ:mən] n.领班；陪审团主席 (英语四级单词)
- unaware [,ʌnə´weə] a.不知道的；不觉察的 (英语四级单词)
- briskly [´briskli] ad.轻快地；活泼地 (英语四级单词)
- jocund [´dʒɔkənd] a.欢乐的，愉快的 (英语六级单词)
- runaway [´rʌnəwei] n.逃跑(者) a.逃亡的 (英语六级单词)
- brotherly [´brʌðəli] a.兄弟般的 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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