章节正文
called her to the front room, and Billy's young mind shifted to inquiries
about the cipher alphabet. And she gained at least an hour teaching him
to read various words by the sound. At dinner, too, he was refreshingly
silent. But such silences are unsafe, and the weather was still bad. Four
o'clock found them much where they had been at eight.
"Please tell me why you won't leave Lin marry you." He was at the window,
kicking the wall.
"That's nine times since dinner," she replied, with tireless good humor.
"Now if you ask me twelve--"
"You'll tell?" said the boy, swiftly.
She broke into a laugh. "No. I'll go riding and you'll stay at home. When
I was little and would ask things beyond me, they only gave me three
times."
"I've got two more, anyway. Ha-ha!"
"Better save 'em up, though."
"What did they do to you? Ah, I don't want to go a-riding. It's nasty all
over." He stared out at the day against which Separ's doors had been
tight closed since morning. Eight hours of furious wind had raised the
dust like a sea. "I wish the old train would come," observed Billy,
continuing to kick the wall. "I wish I was going somewheres." Smoky,
level, and hot, the south wind leapt into Separ across five hundred
unbroken miles. The plain was blanketed in a tawny eclipse. Each minute
the near buildings became invisible in a turbulent herd of clouds. Above
this travelling blur of the soil the top of the water-tank alone rose
bulging into the clear sun. The sand spirals would lick like flames along
the bulk of the lofty tub, and soar skyward. It was not shipping season.
The freight-cars stood idle in a long line. No cattle huddled in the
corrals. No strangers moved in town. No cow-ponies dozed in front of the
saloon. Their riders were distant in ranch and camp. Human noise was
extinct in Separ. Beneath the thunder of the sultry blasts the place lay
dead in its flapping shroud of dust. "Why won't you tell me?" droned
Billy. For some time he had been returning, like a mosquito brushed away.
"That's ten times," said Jessamine, promptly.
"Oh, goodness! Pretty soon I'll not be glad I came. I'm about twiced as
less glad now."
"Well," said Jessamine, "there's a man coming to-day to mend the
government telegraph-line between Drybone and McKinney. Maybe he would
take you back as far as Box Elder, if you want to go very much. Shall I
ask him?"
Billy was disappointed at this cordial seconding of his mood. He did not
make a direct rejoinder. "I guess I'll go outside now," said he, with a
threat in his tone.
She continued mending his stockings. Finished ones lay rolled at one side
of her chair, and upon the other were more waiting her attention.
"And I'm going to turn back hand-springs on top of all the freight-cars,"
he stated, more loudly.
She indulged again in merriment, laughing sweetly at him, and without
restraint.
"And I'm sick of what you all keep a-saying to me!" he shouted. "Just as
if I was a baby."
"Why, Billy, who ever said you were a baby?"
"All of you do. Honey, and Lin, and you, now, and everybody. What makes
you say 'that's nine times, Billy; oh, Billy, that's ten times,' if you
don't mean I'm a baby? And you laugh me off, just like they do, and just
like I was a regular baby. You won't tell me--"
"Billy, listen. Did nobody ever ask you something you did not want to
tell them?"
"That's not a bit the same, because--because--because I treat 'em square
and because it's not their business. But every time I ask anybody 'most
anything, they say I'm not old enough to understand; and I'll be ten
soon. And it is my business when it's about the kind of a mother I'm
agoing to have. Suppose I quit acting square, an' told 'em, when they
bothered me, they weren't young enough to understand! Wish I had. Guess I
will, too, and watch 'em step around." For a moment his mind dwelt upon
this, and he whistled a revengeful strain.
"Goodness, Billy!" said Jessamine, at the sight of the next stocking.
"The whole heel is scorched off."
He eyed the ruin with indifference. "Ah, that was last month when I and
Lin shot the bear in the swamp willows. He made me dry off my legs. Chuck
it away."
"And spoil the pair? No, indeed!"
"Mother always chucked 'em, an' father'd buy new ones till I skipped from
home. Lin kind o' mends 'em."
"Does he?" said Jessamine, softly. And she looked at the photograph.
"Yes. What made you write him for to let me come and bring my stockin's
and things?"
"Don't you see, Billy, there is so little work at this station that I'd
be looking out of the window all day just the pitiful way you do?"
"Oh!" Billy pondered. "And so I said to Lin," he continued, "why didn't
he send down his own clothes, too, an' let you fix 'em all. And Honey
Wiggin laughed right in his coffee-cup so it all sploshed out. And the
cook he asked me if mother used to mend Lin's clothes. But I guess she
chucked 'em like she always did father's and mine. I was with father, you
know, when mother was married to Lin that time." He paused again, while
his thoughts and fears struggled. "But Lin says I needn't ever go back,"
he went on, reasoning and confiding to her. "Lin don't like mother any
more, I guess." His pondering grew still deeper, and he looked at
Jessamine for some while. Then his face wakened with a new theory. "Don't
Lin like you any more?" he inquired.
"Oh," cried Jessamine, crimsoning, "yes! Why, he sent you to me!"
"Well, he got hot in camp when I said that about sending his clothes to
you. He quit supper pretty soon, and went away off a walking. And that's
another time they said I was too young. But Lin don't come to see you any
more."
"Why, I hope he loves me," murmured Jessamine. "Always."
"Well, I hope so too," said Billy, earnestly. "For I like you. When I
seen him show you our cabin on Box Elder, and the room he had fixed for
you, I was glad you were coming to be my mother. Mother used to be awful.
I wouldn't 'a' minded her licking me if she'd done other things. Ah,
pshaw! I wasn't going to stand that." Billy now came close to Jessamine.
"I do wish you would come and live with me and Lin," said he. "Lin's
awful nice."
"Don't I know it?" said Jessamine, tenderly.
"Cause I heard you say you were going to marry him," went on Billy. "And
I seen him kiss you and you let him that time we went away when you found
out about mother. And you're not mad, and he's not, and nothing happens
at all, all the same! Won't you tell me, please?"
Jessamine's eyes were glistening, and she took him in her lap. She was
not going to tell him that he was too young this time. But whatever
things she had shaped to say to the boy were never said.
Through the noise of the gale came the steadier sound of the train, and
the girl rose quickly to preside over her ticket-office and duties behind
the railing in the front room of the station. The boy ran to the window
to watch the great event of Separ's day. The locomotive loomed out from
the yellow clots of drift, paused at the water-tank, and then with steam
and humming came slowly on by the platform. Slowly its long dust-choked
train emerged trundling behind it, and ponderously halted. There was no
one to go. No one came to buy a ticket of Jessamine. The conductor looked
in on business, but she had no telegraphic orders for him. The express
agent jumped off and looked in for pleasure. He received his daily smile
and nod of friendly discouragement. Then the light bundle of mail was
flung inside the door. Separ had no mail to go out. As she was picking up
the letters young Billy passed her like a shadow, and fled out. Two
passengers had descended from the train, a man and a large woman. His
clothes were loose and careless upon him. He held valises, and stood
uncertainly looking about him in the storm. Her firm, heavy body was
closely dressed. In her hat was a large, handsome feather. Along between
the several cars brakemen leaned out, watched her, and grinned to each
other. But her big, hard-shining blue eyes were fixed curiously upon the
station where Jessamine was.
"It's all night we may be here, is it?" she said to the man, harshly.
"How am I to help that?" he retorted.
"I'll help it. If this hotel's the sty it used to be, I'll walk to
Tommy's. I've not saw him since I left Bear Creek."
She stalked into the hotel, while the man went slowly to the station. He
entered, and found Jessamine behind her railing, sorting the slim mail.
"Good-evening," he said. "Excuse me. There was to be a wagon sent here."
"For the telegraph-mender? Yes, sir. It came Tuesday. You're to find the
pole-wagon at Drybone."
This news was good, and all that he wished to know. He could drive out
and escape a night at the Hotel Brunswick. But he lingered, because
Jessamine spoke so pleasantly to him. He had heard of her also.
"Governor Barker has not been around here?" he said.
"Not yet, sir. We understand he is expected through on a hunting-trip."
"I suppose there is room for two and a trunk on that wagon?"
"I reckon so, sir." Jessamine glanced at the man, and he took himself
out. Most men took themselves out if Jessamine so willed; and it was
mostly achieved thus, in amity.
On the platform the man found his wife again.
"Then I needn't to walk to Tommy's," she said. "And we'll eat as we
travel. But you'll wait till I'm through with her." She made a gesture
toward the station.
"Why--why--what do you want with her. Don't you know who she is?"
"It was me told you who she was, James Lusk. You'll wait till I've been
and asked her after Lin McLean's health, and till I've saw how the likes
of her talks to the likes of me."
He made a feeble protest that this would do no one any good.
"Sew yourself up, James Lusk. If it has been your idea I come with yus
clear from Laramie to watch yus plant telegraph-poles in the sage-brush,
why you're off. I ain't heard much 'o Lin since the day he learned it was
you and not him that was my husband. And I've come back in this country
to have a look at my old friends--and" (she laughed loudly and nodded at
the station) "my old friends' new friends!"
Thus ordered, the husband wandered away to find his wagon and the horse.
Jessamine, in the office, had finished her station duties and returned to
her needle. She sat contemplating the scorched sock of Billy's, and heard
a heavy step at the threshold. She turned, and there was the large woman
with the feather quietly surveying her. The words which the stranger
spoke then were usual enough for a beginning. But there was something of
threat in the strong animal countenance, something of laughter ready to
break out. Much beauty of its kind had evidently been in the face, and
now, as substitute for what was gone, was the brag look of assertion that
it was still all there. Many stranded travellers knocked at Jessamine's
door, and now, as always, she offered the hospitalities of her neat
abode, the only room in Separ fit for a woman. As she spoke, and the
guest surveyed and listened, the door blew shut with a crash.
Outside, in a shed, Billy had placed the wagon between himself and his
father.
"How you have grown!" the man was saying; and he smiled. "Come, shake
hands. I did not think to see you here."
"Dare you to touch me!" Billy screamed. "No, I'll never come with you.
Lin says I needn't to."
The man passed his hand across his forehead, and leaned against the
wheel. "Lord, Lord!" he muttered.
His son warily slid out of the shed and left him leaning there.
PART II
Lin McLean, bachelor, sat out in front of his cabin, looking at a small
bright pistol that lay in his hand. He held it tenderly, cherishing it,
and did not cease slowly to polish it. Revery filled his eyes, and in his
whole face was sadness unmasked, because only the animals were there to
perceive his true feelings. Sunlight and waving shadows moved together
upon the green of his pasture, cattle and horses loitered in the opens by
the stream. Down Box Elder's course, its valley and golden-chimneyed
bluffs widened away into the level and the blue of the greater valley.
Upstream the branches and shining, quiet leaves entered the mountains
where the rock chimneys narrowed to a gateway, a citadel of shafts and
turrets, crimson and gold above the filmy emerald of the trees. Through
there the road went up from the cotton-woods into the cool quaking asps
and pines, and so across the range and away to Separ. Along the
ridge-pole of the new stable, two hundred yards down-stream, sat McLean's
turkeys, and cocks and hens walked in front of him here by his cabin and
about the cipher alphabet. And she gained at least an hour teaching him
to read various words by the sound. At dinner, too, he was refreshingly
silent. But such silences are unsafe, and the weather was still bad. Four
o'clock found them much where they had been at eight.
"Please tell me why you won't leave Lin marry you." He was at the window,
kicking the wall.
"That's nine times since dinner," she replied, with tireless good humor.
"Now if you ask me twelve--"
"You'll tell?" said the boy, swiftly.
She broke into a laugh. "No. I'll go riding and you'll stay at home. When
I was little and would ask things beyond me, they only gave me three
times."
"I've got two more, anyway. Ha-ha!"
"Better save 'em up, though."
"What did they do to you? Ah, I don't want to go a-riding. It's nasty all
over." He stared out at the day against which Separ's doors had been
tight closed since morning. Eight hours of furious wind had raised the
dust like a sea. "I wish the old train would come," observed Billy,
continuing to kick the wall. "I wish I was going somewheres." Smoky,
level, and hot, the south wind leapt into Separ across five hundred
unbroken miles. The plain was blanketed in a tawny eclipse. Each minute
the near buildings became invisible in a turbulent herd of clouds. Above
this travelling blur of the soil the top of the water-tank alone rose
bulging into the clear sun. The sand spirals would lick like flames along
the bulk of the lofty tub, and soar skyward. It was not shipping season.
The freight-cars stood idle in a long line. No cattle huddled in the
corrals. No strangers moved in town. No cow-ponies dozed in front of the
saloon. Their riders were distant in ranch and camp. Human noise was
extinct in Separ. Beneath the thunder of the sultry blasts the place lay
dead in its flapping shroud of dust. "Why won't you tell me?" droned
Billy. For some time he had been returning, like a mosquito brushed away.
"That's ten times," said Jessamine, promptly.
"Oh, goodness! Pretty soon I'll not be glad I came. I'm about twiced as
less glad now."
"Well," said Jessamine, "there's a man coming to-day to mend the
government telegraph-line between Drybone and McKinney. Maybe he would
take you back as far as Box Elder, if you want to go very much. Shall I
ask him?"
Billy was disappointed at this cordial seconding of his mood. He did not
make a direct rejoinder. "I guess I'll go outside now," said he, with a
threat in his tone.
She continued mending his stockings. Finished ones lay rolled at one side
of her chair, and upon the other were more waiting her attention.
"And I'm going to turn back hand-springs on top of all the freight-cars,"
he stated, more loudly.
She indulged again in merriment, laughing sweetly at him, and without
restraint.
"And I'm sick of what you all keep a-saying to me!" he shouted. "Just as
if I was a baby."
"Why, Billy, who ever said you were a baby?"
"All of you do. Honey, and Lin, and you, now, and everybody. What makes
you say 'that's nine times, Billy; oh, Billy, that's ten times,' if you
don't mean I'm a baby? And you laugh me off, just like they do, and just
like I was a regular baby. You won't tell me--"
"Billy, listen. Did nobody ever ask you something you did not want to
tell them?"
"That's not a bit the same, because--because--because I treat 'em square
and because it's not their business. But every time I ask anybody 'most
anything, they say I'm not old enough to understand; and I'll be ten
soon. And it is my business when it's about the kind of a mother I'm
agoing to have. Suppose I quit acting square, an' told 'em, when they
bothered me, they weren't young enough to understand! Wish I had. Guess I
will, too, and watch 'em step around." For a moment his mind dwelt upon
this, and he whistled a revengeful strain.
"Goodness, Billy!" said Jessamine, at the sight of the next stocking.
"The whole heel is scorched off."
He eyed the ruin with indifference. "Ah, that was last month when I and
Lin shot the bear in the swamp willows. He made me dry off my legs. Chuck
it away."
"And spoil the pair? No, indeed!"
"Mother always chucked 'em, an' father'd buy new ones till I skipped from
home. Lin kind o' mends 'em."
"Does he?" said Jessamine, softly. And she looked at the photograph.
"Yes. What made you write him for to let me come and bring my stockin's
and things?"
"Don't you see, Billy, there is so little work at this station that I'd
be looking out of the window all day just the pitiful way you do?"
"Oh!" Billy pondered. "And so I said to Lin," he continued, "why didn't
he send down his own clothes, too, an' let you fix 'em all. And Honey
Wiggin laughed right in his coffee-cup so it all sploshed out. And the
cook he asked me if mother used to mend Lin's clothes. But I guess she
chucked 'em like she always did father's and mine. I was with father, you
know, when mother was married to Lin that time." He paused again, while
his thoughts and fears struggled. "But Lin says I needn't ever go back,"
he went on, reasoning and confiding to her. "Lin don't like mother any
more, I guess." His pondering grew still deeper, and he looked at
Jessamine for some while. Then his face wakened with a new theory. "Don't
Lin like you any more?" he inquired.
"Oh," cried Jessamine, crimsoning, "yes! Why, he sent you to me!"
"Well, he got hot in camp when I said that about sending his clothes to
you. He quit supper pretty soon, and went away off a walking. And that's
another time they said I was too young. But Lin don't come to see you any
more."
"Why, I hope he loves me," murmured Jessamine. "Always."
"Well, I hope so too," said Billy, earnestly. "For I like you. When I
seen him show you our cabin on Box Elder, and the room he had fixed for
you, I was glad you were coming to be my mother. Mother used to be awful.
I wouldn't 'a' minded her licking me if she'd done other things. Ah,
pshaw! I wasn't going to stand that." Billy now came close to Jessamine.
"I do wish you would come and live with me and Lin," said he. "Lin's
awful nice."
"Don't I know it?" said Jessamine, tenderly.
"Cause I heard you say you were going to marry him," went on Billy. "And
I seen him kiss you and you let him that time we went away when you found
out about mother. And you're not mad, and he's not, and nothing happens
at all, all the same! Won't you tell me, please?"
Jessamine's eyes were glistening, and she took him in her lap. She was
not going to tell him that he was too young this time. But whatever
things she had shaped to say to the boy were never said.
Through the noise of the gale came the steadier sound of the train, and
the girl rose quickly to preside over her ticket-office and duties behind
the railing in the front room of the station. The boy ran to the window
to watch the great event of Separ's day. The locomotive loomed out from
the yellow clots of drift, paused at the water-tank, and then with steam
and humming came slowly on by the platform. Slowly its long dust-choked
train emerged trundling behind it, and ponderously halted. There was no
one to go. No one came to buy a ticket of Jessamine. The conductor looked
in on business, but she had no telegraphic orders for him. The express
agent jumped off and looked in for pleasure. He received his daily smile
and nod of friendly discouragement. Then the light bundle of mail was
flung inside the door. Separ had no mail to go out. As she was picking up
the letters young Billy passed her like a shadow, and fled out. Two
passengers had descended from the train, a man and a large woman. His
clothes were loose and careless upon him. He held valises, and stood
uncertainly looking about him in the storm. Her firm, heavy body was
closely dressed. In her hat was a large, handsome feather. Along between
the several cars brakemen leaned out, watched her, and grinned to each
other. But her big, hard-shining blue eyes were fixed curiously upon the
station where Jessamine was.
"It's all night we may be here, is it?" she said to the man, harshly.
"How am I to help that?" he retorted.
"I'll help it. If this hotel's the sty it used to be, I'll walk to
Tommy's. I've not saw him since I left Bear Creek."
She stalked into the hotel, while the man went slowly to the station. He
entered, and found Jessamine behind her railing, sorting the slim mail.
"Good-evening," he said. "Excuse me. There was to be a wagon sent here."
"For the telegraph-mender? Yes, sir. It came Tuesday. You're to find the
pole-wagon at Drybone."
This news was good, and all that he wished to know. He could drive out
and escape a night at the Hotel Brunswick. But he lingered, because
Jessamine spoke so pleasantly to him. He had heard of her also.
"Governor Barker has not been around here?" he said.
"Not yet, sir. We understand he is expected through on a hunting-trip."
"I suppose there is room for two and a trunk on that wagon?"
"I reckon so, sir." Jessamine glanced at the man, and he took himself
out. Most men took themselves out if Jessamine so willed; and it was
mostly achieved thus, in amity.
On the platform the man found his wife again.
"Then I needn't to walk to Tommy's," she said. "And we'll eat as we
travel. But you'll wait till I'm through with her." She made a gesture
toward the station.
"Why--why--what do you want with her. Don't you know who she is?"
"It was me told you who she was, James Lusk. You'll wait till I've been
and asked her after Lin McLean's health, and till I've saw how the likes
of her talks to the likes of me."
He made a feeble protest that this would do no one any good.
"Sew yourself up, James Lusk. If it has been your idea I come with yus
clear from Laramie to watch yus plant telegraph-poles in the sage-brush,
why you're off. I ain't heard much 'o Lin since the day he learned it was
you and not him that was my husband. And I've come back in this country
to have a look at my old friends--and" (she laughed loudly and nodded at
the station) "my old friends' new friends!"
Thus ordered, the husband wandered away to find his wagon and the horse.
Jessamine, in the office, had finished her station duties and returned to
her needle. She sat contemplating the scorched sock of Billy's, and heard
a heavy step at the threshold. She turned, and there was the large woman
with the feather quietly surveying her. The words which the stranger
spoke then were usual enough for a beginning. But there was something of
threat in the strong animal countenance, something of laughter ready to
break out. Much beauty of its kind had evidently been in the face, and
now, as substitute for what was gone, was the brag look of assertion that
it was still all there. Many stranded travellers knocked at Jessamine's
door, and now, as always, she offered the hospitalities of her neat
abode, the only room in Separ fit for a woman. As she spoke, and the
guest surveyed and listened, the door blew shut with a crash.
Outside, in a shed, Billy had placed the wagon between himself and his
father.
"How you have grown!" the man was saying; and he smiled. "Come, shake
hands. I did not think to see you here."
"Dare you to touch me!" Billy screamed. "No, I'll never come with you.
Lin says I needn't to."
The man passed his hand across his forehead, and leaned against the
wheel. "Lord, Lord!" he muttered.
His son warily slid out of the shed and left him leaning there.
PART II
Lin McLean, bachelor, sat out in front of his cabin, looking at a small
bright pistol that lay in his hand. He held it tenderly, cherishing it,
and did not cease slowly to polish it. Revery filled his eyes, and in his
whole face was sadness unmasked, because only the animals were there to
perceive his true feelings. Sunlight and waving shadows moved together
upon the green of his pasture, cattle and horses loitered in the opens by
the stream. Down Box Elder's course, its valley and golden-chimneyed
bluffs widened away into the level and the blue of the greater valley.
Upstream the branches and shining, quiet leaves entered the mountains
where the rock chimneys narrowed to a gateway, a citadel of shafts and
turrets, crimson and gold above the filmy emerald of the trees. Through
there the road went up from the cotton-woods into the cool quaking asps
and pines, and so across the range and away to Separ. Along the
ridge-pole of the new stable, two hundred yards down-stream, sat McLean's
turkeys, and cocks and hens walked in front of him here by his cabin and
- alphabet [´ælfəbet]
n.字母表 (初中英语单词) - furious [´fjuəriəs] a.狂怒的；猛烈的 (初中英语单词)
- invisible [in´vizəbəl] a.看不见的；无形的 (初中英语单词)
- shipping [´ʃipiŋ] n.船运业；船舶(总数) (初中英语单词)
- thunder [´θʌndə] n.雷 vi.打雷 vt.吼出 (初中英语单词)
- mosquito [məs´ki:təu] n.蚊子 (初中英语单词)
- waiting [´weitiŋ] n.等候；伺候 (初中英语单词)
- acting [´æktiŋ] a.代理的 n.演戏 (初中英语单词)
- softly [´sɔftli] ad.软化地；柔和地 (初中英语单词)
- platform [´plætfɔ:m] n.(平)台；讲台；站台 (初中英语单词)
- conductor [kən´dʌktə] n.指导者；向导者 (初中英语单词)
- bundle [´bʌndl] n.包，捆；包袱(裹) (初中英语单词)
- careless [´keəlis] a.粗心的；草率的 (初中英语单词)
- feather [´feðə] n.羽毛 (初中英语单词)
- curiously [´kjuəriəsli] ad.好奇地；稀奇古怪地 (初中英语单词)
- reckon [´rekən] v.计算；认为；估计 (初中英语单词)
- feeble [´fi:bəl] a.虚弱的，无力的 (初中英语单词)
- needle [´ni:dl] n.针；指针 v.用针缝 (初中英语单词)
- beginning [bi´giniŋ] n.开始，开端；起源 (初中英语单词)
- countenance [´kauntinəns] n.面部表情；脸色；面容 (初中英语单词)
- laughter [´lɑ:ftə] n.笑，笑声 (初中英语单词)
- evidently [´evidəntli] ad.明显地 (初中英语单词)
- substitute [´sʌbstitju:t] n.代理人 v.代替，取代 (初中英语单词)
- forehead [´fɔrid] n.额，前部 (初中英语单词)
- pistol [´pistl] n.手枪 vt.用手枪射击 (初中英语单词)
- sunlight [´sʌnlait] n.日光 (初中英语单词)
- pasture [´pɑ:stʃə] n.牧场；放牧 v.吃(草) (初中英语单词)
- stream [stri:m] n.河 vi.流出；飘扬 (初中英语单词)
- valley [´væli] n.谷；河谷；流域 (初中英语单词)
- stable [´steibəl] n.马棚 a.稳固的 (初中英语单词)
- cordial [´kɔ:diəl] a.热忱的；亲切的 (高中英语单词)
- sweetly [´swi:tli] ad.甜蜜地；美妙地 (高中英语单词)
- indifference [in´difrəns] n.冷淡；无足轻重 (高中英语单词)
- pitiful [´pitifəl] a.可怜的；慈悲的 (高中英语单词)
- reasoning [´ri:zəniŋ] n.推理，评理 a.推理的 (高中英语单词)
- earnestly [´ə:nistli] ad.认真地；急切地 (高中英语单词)
- preside [pri´zaid] vi.主持(会议)；主管 (高中英语单词)
- locomotive [,ləukə´məutiv] n.机头 a.移动的 (高中英语单词)
- pleasantly [´plezntli] ad.令人愉快地；舒适地 (高中英语单词)
- learned [´lə:nid] a.有学问的，博学的 (高中英语单词)
- threshold [´θreʃhəuld] n.门槛；入门；开端 (高中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- bachelor [´bætʃələ] n.未婚男子；学士 (高中英语单词)
- tenderly [´tendəli] ad.娇嫩地；柔和地 (高中英语单词)
- sadness [´sædnis] n.悲哀；悲痛；凄惨 (高中英语单词)
- gateway [´geit-wei] n.入口；通道；途径 (高中英语单词)
- crimson [´krimzən] a.&n.深(紫)红(的) (高中英语单词)
- eclipse [i´klips] n.丧失 vt.食；蒙蔽 (英语四级单词)
- turbulent [´tə:bjulənt] a.狂暴的；骚乱的 (英语四级单词)
- shroud [ʃraud] n.尸衣；覆盖物；罩 (英语四级单词)
- merriment [´merimənt] n.欢乐 (英语四级单词)
- railing [´reiliŋ] n.栏杆 (英语四级单词)
- assertion [ə´sə:ʃən] n.断言；主张；论述 (英语四级单词)
- polish [´pəuliʃ] a.波兰(人)的 n.波兰语 (英语四级单词)
- emerald [´emərəld] n.纯绿宝石；翠绿色 (英语四级单词)
- tireless [´taiələs] a.不疲倦的；无轮胎的 (英语六级单词)
- sultry [´sʌltri] a.狂(闷)热的；风骚的 (英语六级单词)
- minded [´maindid] a.有...心的 (英语六级单词)
- discouragement [dis´kʌrridʒmənt] n.挫折，气馁 (英语六级单词)
- citadel [´sitədl] n.城堡；堡垒；避难所 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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