章节正文
after a long pause. "As it was, nobody trespassed on her; all the
folks about the bay respected her an' her feelings; but as time
wore on, after you left here, one after another ventured to make
occasion to put somethin' ashore for her if they went that way. I
know mother used to go to see her sometimes, and send William over
now and then with something fresh an' nice from the farm.
There is a point on the sheltered side where you can lay a boat
close to shore an' land anything safe on the turf out o' reach o'
the water. There were one or two others, old folks, that she would
see, and now an' then she'd hail a passin' boat an' ask for
somethin'; and mother got her to promise that she would make some
sign to the Black Island folks if she wanted help. I never saw her
myself to speak to after that day."
"I expect nowadays, if such a thing happened, she'd have gone
out West to her uncle's folks or up to Massachusetts and had a
change, an' come home good as new. The world's bigger an' freer
than it used to be," urged Mrs. Fosdick.
"No," said her friend. "'Tis like bad eyesight, the mind of
such a person: if your eyes don't see right there may be a remedy,
but there's no kind of glasses to remedy the mind. No, Joanna was
Joanna, and there she lays on her island where she lived and did
her poor penance. She told mother the day she was dyin' that she
always used to want to be fetched inshore when it come to the last;
but she'd thought it over, and desired to be laid on the island, if
'twas thought right. So the funeral was out there, a Saturday
afternoon in September. 'Twas a pretty day, and there wa'n't
hardly a boat on the coast within twenty miles that didn't head for
Shell-heap cram-full o' folks an' all real respectful, same's if
she'd always stayed ashore and held her friends. Some went out o'
mere curiosity, I don't doubt,--there's always such to every
funeral; but most had real feelin', and went purpose to show it.
She'd got most o' the wild sparrows as tame as could be, livin' out
there so long among 'em, and one flew right in and lit on the
coffin an' begun to sing while Mr. Dimmick was speakin'. He was
put out by it, an' acted as if he didn't know whether to stop or go
on. I may have been prejudiced, but I wa'n't the only one thought
the poor little bird done the best of the two."
"What became o' the man that treated her so, did you ever
hear?" asked Mrs. Fosdick. "I know he lived up to Massachusetts
for a while. Somebody who came from the same place told me that he
was in trade there an' doin' very well, but that was years ago."
"I never heard anything more than that; he went to the war in
one o' the early regiments. No, I never heard any more of him,"
answered Mrs. Todd. "Joanna was another sort of person, and
perhaps he showed good judgment in marryin' somebody else, if only
he'd behaved straight-forward and manly. He was a shifty-eyed,
coaxin' sort of man, that got what he wanted out o' folks, an' only
gave when he wanted to buy, made friends easy and lost 'em without
knowin' the difference. She'd had a piece o' work tryin' to make
him walk accordin' to her right ideas, but she'd have had
too much variety ever to fall into a melancholy. Some is meant to
be the Joannas in this world, an' 'twas her poor lot."
XV
On Shell-heap Island
SOME TIME AFTER Mrs. Fosdick's visit was over and we had returned
to our former quietness, I was out sailing alone with Captain
Bowden in his large boat. We were taking the crooked northeasterly
channelseaward, and were well out from shore while it was still
early in the afternoon. I found myself presently among some
unfamiliar islands, and suddenly remembered the story of poor
Joanna. There is something in the fact of a hermitage" target="_blank" title="n.隐居生活(的地方)">hermitage that cannot
fail to touch the imagination; the recluses are a sad kindred, but
they are never commonplace. Mrs. Todd had truly said that Joanna
was like one of the saints in the desert; the loneliness of sorrow
will forever keep alive their sad succession.
"Where is Shell-heap Island?" I asked eagerly.
"You see Shell-heap now, layin' 'way out beyond Black Island
there," answered the captain, pointing with outstretched arm as he
stood, and holding the rudder with his knee.
"I should like very much to go there," said I, and the
captain, without comment, changed his course a little more to the
eastward and let the reef out of his mainsail.
"I don't know's we can make an easy landin' for ye," he
remarked doubtfully. "May get your feet wet; bad place to land.
Trouble is I ought to have brought a tag-boat; but they clutch on
to the water so, an' I do love to sail free. This gre't boat gets
easy bothered with anything trailin'. 'Tain't breakin' much on the
meetin'-house ledges; guess I can fetch in to Shell-heap."
"How long is it since Miss Joanna Todd died?" I asked, partly
by way of explanation.
"Twenty-two years come September," answered the captain, after
reflection. "She died the same year as my oldest boy was born, an'
the town house was burnt over to the Port. I didn't know but you
merely wanted to hunt for some o' them Indian relics. Long's you
want to see where Joanna lived--No, 'tain't breakin' over
the ledges; we'll manage to fetch across the shoals somehow, 'tis
such a distance to go 'way round, and tide's a-risin'," he ended
hopefully, and we sailed steadily on, the captain speechless with
intent watching of a difficult course, until the small island with
its low whitish promontory lay in full view before us under the
bright afternoon sun.
The month was August, and I had seen the color of the islands
change from the fresh green of June to a sunburnt brown that made
them look like stone, except where the dark green of the spruces
and fir balsam kept the tint that even winter storms might deepen,
but not fade. The few wind-bent trees on Shell-heap Island were
mostly dead and gray, but there were some low-growing bushes, and
a stripe of light green ran along just above the shore, which I
knew to be wild morning-glories. As we came close I could see the
high stone walls of a small square field, though there were no
sheep left to assail it; and below, there was a little harbor-like
cove where Captain Bowden was boldlyrunning the great boat in to
seek a landing-place. There was a crookedchannel of deep water
which led close up against the shore.
"There, you hold fast for'ard there, an' wait for her to lift
on the wave. You'll make a good landin' if you're smart; right on
the port-hand side!" the captain called excitedly; and I, standing
ready with high ambition, seized my chance and leaped over to the
grassy bank.
"I'm beat if I ain't aground after all!" mourned the captain
despondently.
But I could reach the bowsprit, and he pushed with the boat-
hook, while the wind veered round a little as if on purpose and
helped with the sail; so presently the boat was free and began to
drift out from shore.
"Used to call this p'int Joanna's wharf privilege, but 't has
worn away in the weather since her time. I thought one or two
bumps wouldn't hurt us none,--paint's got to be renewed, anyway,--
but I never thought she'd tetch. I figured on shyin' by," the
captain apologized. "She's too gre't a boat to handle well in
here; but I used to sort of shy by in Joanna's day, an' cast a
little somethin' ashore--some apples or a couple o' pears if I had
'em--on the grass, where she'd be sure to see."
I stood watching while Captain Bowden cleverly found his way
back to deeper water. "You needn't make no haste," he called to
me; "I'll keep within call. Joanna lays right up there in the far
corner o' the field. There used to be a path led to the place. I
always knew her well. I was out here to the funeral."
I found the path; it was touching to discover that this lonely
spot was not without its pilgrims. Later generations will know
less and less of Joanna herself, but there are paths trodden to the
shrines of solitude the world over,--the world cannot forget
them, try as it may; the feet of the young find them out because of
curiosity and dim foreboding; while the old bring hearts full of
remembrance. This plain anchorite had been one of those whom
sorrow made too lonely to brave the sight of men, too timid to
front the simple world she knew, yet valiant enough to live alone
with her poor insistent human nature and the calms and passions of
the sea and sky.
The birds were flying all about the field; they fluttered up
out of the grass at my feet as I walked along, so tame that I liked
to think they kept some happy tradition from summer to summer of
the safety of nests and good fellowship of mankind. Poor Joanna's
house was gone except the stones of its foundations, and there was
little trace of her flower garden except a single faded sprig of
much-enduring French pinks, which a great bee and a yellow
butterfly were befriending together. I drank at the spring, and
thought that now and then some one would follow me from the busy,
hard-worked, and simple-thoughted countryside of the mainland,
which lay dim and dreamlike in the August haze, as Joanna must have
watched it many a day. There was the world, and here was she with
eternity well begun. In the life of each of us, I said to myself,
there is a place remote and islanded, and given to endless regret
or secret happiness; we are each the uncompanioned hermit and
recluse of an hour or a day; we understand our fellows of the cell
to whatever age of history they may belong.
But as I stood alone on the island, in the sea-breeze,
suddenly there came a sound of distant voices; gay voices and
laughter from a pleasure-boat that was going seaward full of boys
and girls. I knew, as if she had told me, that poor Joanna must
have heard the like on many and many a summer afternoon, and must
have welcomed the good cheer in spite of hopelessness and winter
weather, and all the sorrow and disappointment in the world.
XVI
The Great Expedition
MRS. TODD never by any chance gave warning over night of her great
projects and adventures by sea and land. She first came to an
understanding with the primal forces of nature, and never trusted
to any preliminary promise of good weather, but examined the
day for herself in its infancy. Then, if the stars were
propitious, and the wind blew from a quarter of good inheritance
whence no surprises of sea-turns or southwest sultriness might be
feared, long before I was fairly awake I used to hear a rustle and
knocking like a great mouse in the walls, and an impatient tread on
the steep garret stairs that led to Mrs. Todd's chief place of
storage. She went and came as if she had already started on her
expedition with utmost haste and kept returning for something that
was forgotten. When I appeared in quest of my breakfast, she would
be absent-minded and sparing of speech, as if I had displeased her,
and she was now, by main force of principle, holding herself back
from altercation and strife of tongues.
These signs of a change became familiar to me in the course of
time, and Mrs. Todd hardly noticed some plain proofs of divination
one August morning when I said, without preface, that I had just
seen the Beggs' best chaise go by, and that we should have to take
the grocery. Mrs. Todd was alert in a moment.
"There! I might have known!" she exclaimed. "It's the 15th
of August, when he goes and gets his money. He heired an annuity
from an uncle o' his on his mother's side. I understood the uncle
said none o' Sam Begg's wife's folks should make free with it, so
after Sam's gone it'll all be past an' spent, like last summer.
That's what Sam prospers on now, if you can call it prosperin'.
Yes, I might have known. 'Tis the 15th o' August with him, an' he
gener'ly stops to dinner with a cousin's widow on the way home.
Feb'uary n' August is the times. Takes him 'bout all day to go an'
come."
I heard this explanation with interest. The tone of Mrs.
Todd's voice was complaining at the last.
"I like the grocery just as well as the chaise," I hastened to
say, referring to a long-bodied high wagon with a canopy-top, like
an attenuated four-posted bedstead on wheels, in which we sometimes
folks about the bay respected her an' her feelings; but as time
wore on, after you left here, one after another ventured to make
occasion to put somethin' ashore for her if they went that way. I
know mother used to go to see her sometimes, and send William over
now and then with something fresh an' nice from the farm.
There is a point on the sheltered side where you can lay a boat
close to shore an' land anything safe on the turf out o' reach o'
the water. There were one or two others, old folks, that she would
see, and now an' then she'd hail a passin' boat an' ask for
somethin'; and mother got her to promise that she would make some
sign to the Black Island folks if she wanted help. I never saw her
myself to speak to after that day."
"I expect nowadays, if such a thing happened, she'd have gone
out West to her uncle's folks or up to Massachusetts and had a
change, an' come home good as new. The world's bigger an' freer
than it used to be," urged Mrs. Fosdick.
"No," said her friend. "'Tis like bad eyesight, the mind of
such a person: if your eyes don't see right there may be a remedy,
but there's no kind of glasses to remedy the mind. No, Joanna was
Joanna, and there she lays on her island where she lived and did
her poor penance. She told mother the day she was dyin' that she
always used to want to be fetched inshore when it come to the last;
but she'd thought it over, and desired to be laid on the island, if
'twas thought right. So the funeral was out there, a Saturday
afternoon in September. 'Twas a pretty day, and there wa'n't
hardly a boat on the coast within twenty miles that didn't head for
Shell-heap cram-full o' folks an' all real respectful, same's if
she'd always stayed ashore and held her friends. Some went out o'
mere curiosity, I don't doubt,--there's always such to every
funeral; but most had real feelin', and went purpose to show it.
She'd got most o' the wild sparrows as tame as could be, livin' out
there so long among 'em, and one flew right in and lit on the
coffin an' begun to sing while Mr. Dimmick was speakin'. He was
put out by it, an' acted as if he didn't know whether to stop or go
on. I may have been prejudiced, but I wa'n't the only one thought
the poor little bird done the best of the two."
"What became o' the man that treated her so, did you ever
hear?" asked Mrs. Fosdick. "I know he lived up to Massachusetts
for a while. Somebody who came from the same place told me that he
was in trade there an' doin' very well, but that was years ago."
"I never heard anything more than that; he went to the war in
one o' the early regiments. No, I never heard any more of him,"
answered Mrs. Todd. "Joanna was another sort of person, and
perhaps he showed good judgment in marryin' somebody else, if only
he'd behaved straight-forward and manly. He was a shifty-eyed,
coaxin' sort of man, that got what he wanted out o' folks, an' only
gave when he wanted to buy, made friends easy and lost 'em without
knowin' the difference. She'd had a piece o' work tryin' to make
him walk accordin' to her right ideas, but she'd have had
too much variety ever to fall into a melancholy. Some is meant to
be the Joannas in this world, an' 'twas her poor lot."
XV
On Shell-heap Island
SOME TIME AFTER Mrs. Fosdick's visit was over and we had returned
to our former quietness, I was out sailing alone with Captain
Bowden in his large boat. We were taking the crooked northeasterly
channelseaward, and were well out from shore while it was still
early in the afternoon. I found myself presently among some
unfamiliar islands, and suddenly remembered the story of poor
Joanna. There is something in the fact of a hermitage" target="_blank" title="n.隐居生活(的地方)">hermitage that cannot
fail to touch the imagination; the recluses are a sad kindred, but
they are never commonplace. Mrs. Todd had truly said that Joanna
was like one of the saints in the desert; the loneliness of sorrow
will forever keep alive their sad succession.
"Where is Shell-heap Island?" I asked eagerly.
"You see Shell-heap now, layin' 'way out beyond Black Island
there," answered the captain, pointing with outstretched arm as he
stood, and holding the rudder with his knee.
"I should like very much to go there," said I, and the
captain, without comment, changed his course a little more to the
eastward and let the reef out of his mainsail.
"I don't know's we can make an easy landin' for ye," he
remarked doubtfully. "May get your feet wet; bad place to land.
Trouble is I ought to have brought a tag-boat; but they clutch on
to the water so, an' I do love to sail free. This gre't boat gets
easy bothered with anything trailin'. 'Tain't breakin' much on the
meetin'-house ledges; guess I can fetch in to Shell-heap."
"How long is it since Miss Joanna Todd died?" I asked, partly
by way of explanation.
"Twenty-two years come September," answered the captain, after
reflection. "She died the same year as my oldest boy was born, an'
the town house was burnt over to the Port. I didn't know but you
merely wanted to hunt for some o' them Indian relics. Long's you
want to see where Joanna lived--No, 'tain't breakin' over
the ledges; we'll manage to fetch across the shoals somehow, 'tis
such a distance to go 'way round, and tide's a-risin'," he ended
hopefully, and we sailed steadily on, the captain speechless with
intent watching of a difficult course, until the small island with
its low whitish promontory lay in full view before us under the
bright afternoon sun.
The month was August, and I had seen the color of the islands
change from the fresh green of June to a sunburnt brown that made
them look like stone, except where the dark green of the spruces
and fir balsam kept the tint that even winter storms might deepen,
but not fade. The few wind-bent trees on Shell-heap Island were
mostly dead and gray, but there were some low-growing bushes, and
a stripe of light green ran along just above the shore, which I
knew to be wild morning-glories. As we came close I could see the
high stone walls of a small square field, though there were no
sheep left to assail it; and below, there was a little harbor-like
cove where Captain Bowden was boldlyrunning the great boat in to
seek a landing-place. There was a crookedchannel of deep water
which led close up against the shore.
"There, you hold fast for'ard there, an' wait for her to lift
on the wave. You'll make a good landin' if you're smart; right on
the port-hand side!" the captain called excitedly; and I, standing
ready with high ambition, seized my chance and leaped over to the
grassy bank.
"I'm beat if I ain't aground after all!" mourned the captain
despondently.
But I could reach the bowsprit, and he pushed with the boat-
hook, while the wind veered round a little as if on purpose and
helped with the sail; so presently the boat was free and began to
drift out from shore.
"Used to call this p'int Joanna's wharf privilege, but 't has
worn away in the weather since her time. I thought one or two
bumps wouldn't hurt us none,--paint's got to be renewed, anyway,--
but I never thought she'd tetch. I figured on shyin' by," the
captain apologized. "She's too gre't a boat to handle well in
here; but I used to sort of shy by in Joanna's day, an' cast a
little somethin' ashore--some apples or a couple o' pears if I had
'em--on the grass, where she'd be sure to see."
I stood watching while Captain Bowden cleverly found his way
back to deeper water. "You needn't make no haste," he called to
me; "I'll keep within call. Joanna lays right up there in the far
corner o' the field. There used to be a path led to the place. I
always knew her well. I was out here to the funeral."
I found the path; it was touching to discover that this lonely
spot was not without its pilgrims. Later generations will know
less and less of Joanna herself, but there are paths trodden to the
shrines of solitude the world over,--the world cannot forget
them, try as it may; the feet of the young find them out because of
curiosity and dim foreboding; while the old bring hearts full of
remembrance. This plain anchorite had been one of those whom
sorrow made too lonely to brave the sight of men, too timid to
front the simple world she knew, yet valiant enough to live alone
with her poor insistent human nature and the calms and passions of
the sea and sky.
The birds were flying all about the field; they fluttered up
out of the grass at my feet as I walked along, so tame that I liked
to think they kept some happy tradition from summer to summer of
the safety of nests and good fellowship of mankind. Poor Joanna's
house was gone except the stones of its foundations, and there was
little trace of her flower garden except a single faded sprig of
much-enduring French pinks, which a great bee and a yellow
butterfly were befriending together. I drank at the spring, and
thought that now and then some one would follow me from the busy,
hard-worked, and simple-thoughted countryside of the mainland,
which lay dim and dreamlike in the August haze, as Joanna must have
watched it many a day. There was the world, and here was she with
eternity well begun. In the life of each of us, I said to myself,
there is a place remote and islanded, and given to endless regret
or secret happiness; we are each the uncompanioned hermit and
recluse of an hour or a day; we understand our fellows of the cell
to whatever age of history they may belong.
But as I stood alone on the island, in the sea-breeze,
suddenly there came a sound of distant voices; gay voices and
laughter from a pleasure-boat that was going seaward full of boys
and girls. I knew, as if she had told me, that poor Joanna must
have heard the like on many and many a summer afternoon, and must
have welcomed the good cheer in spite of hopelessness and winter
weather, and all the sorrow and disappointment in the world.
XVI
The Great Expedition
MRS. TODD never by any chance gave warning over night of her great
projects and adventures by sea and land. She first came to an
understanding with the primal forces of nature, and never trusted
to any preliminary promise of good weather, but examined the
day for herself in its infancy. Then, if the stars were
propitious, and the wind blew from a quarter of good inheritance
whence no surprises of sea-turns or southwest sultriness might be
feared, long before I was fairly awake I used to hear a rustle and
knocking like a great mouse in the walls, and an impatient tread on
the steep garret stairs that led to Mrs. Todd's chief place of
storage. She went and came as if she had already started on her
expedition with utmost haste and kept returning for something that
was forgotten. When I appeared in quest of my breakfast, she would
be absent-minded and sparing of speech, as if I had displeased her,
and she was now, by main force of principle, holding herself back
from altercation and strife of tongues.
These signs of a change became familiar to me in the course of
time, and Mrs. Todd hardly noticed some plain proofs of divination
one August morning when I said, without preface, that I had just
seen the Beggs' best chaise go by, and that we should have to take
the grocery. Mrs. Todd was alert in a moment.
"There! I might have known!" she exclaimed. "It's the 15th
of August, when he goes and gets his money. He heired an annuity
from an uncle o' his on his mother's side. I understood the uncle
said none o' Sam Begg's wife's folks should make free with it, so
after Sam's gone it'll all be past an' spent, like last summer.
That's what Sam prospers on now, if you can call it prosperin'.
Yes, I might have known. 'Tis the 15th o' August with him, an' he
gener'ly stops to dinner with a cousin's widow on the way home.
Feb'uary n' August is the times. Takes him 'bout all day to go an'
come."
I heard this explanation with interest. The tone of Mrs.
Todd's voice was complaining at the last.
"I like the grocery just as well as the chaise," I hastened to
say, referring to a long-bodied high wagon with a canopy-top, like
an attenuated four-posted bedstead on wheels, in which we sometimes
- ashore [ə´ʃɔ:]
ad.向岸上 (初中英语单词) - funeral [´fju:nərəl] n.葬礼，丧葬；困难 (初中英语单词)
- curiosity [,kjuəri´ɔsiti] n.好奇；奇事；珍品 (初中英语单词)
- variety [və´raiəti] n.变化；多样(性)；种类 (初中英语单词)
- presently [´prezəntli] ad.不久；目前 (初中英语单词)
- imagination [i,mædʒi´neiʃən] n.想象(力) (初中英语单词)
- comment [´kɔment] n.&v.评论；评注；注意 (初中英语单词)
- clutch [klʌtʃ] v.抓住 n.爪子；控制 (初中英语单词)
- indian [´indiən] a.印度的 n.印度人 (初中英语单词)
- steadily [´stedili] ad.坚定地；不断地 (初中英语单词)
- running [´rʌniŋ] a.奔跑的；流动的 (初中英语单词)
- channel [´tʃænəl] n.海峡；航道；途径 (初中英语单词)
- excitedly [ik´saitidli] ad.兴奋地，激动地 (初中英语单词)
- ambition [æm´biʃən] n.雄心，野心；企图 (初中英语单词)
- privilege [´privilidʒ] n.特权 vt.给....特权 (初中英语单词)
- lonely [´ləunli] a.孤独的；无人烟的 (初中英语单词)
- tradition [trə´diʃən] n.传统；惯例；传说 (初中英语单词)
- remote [ri´məut] a.遥远的；偏僻的 (初中英语单词)
- whatever [wɔt´evə] pron.&a.无论什么 (初中英语单词)
- disappointment [,disə´pɔintmənt] n.失望；挫折 (初中英语单词)
- rustle [´rʌsl] v.&n.(使)沙沙作响 (初中英语单词)
- utmost [´ʌtməust] a.最大的 n.极端 (初中英语单词)
- explanation [,eksplə´neiʃən] n.解释；说明；辩解 (初中英语单词)
- remedy [´remidi] n.药品 vt.医治；减轻 (高中英语单词)
- melancholy [´melənkəli] n.忧郁 a.忧郁的 (高中英语单词)
- crooked [´krukid] a.弯曲的；畸形的 (高中英语单词)
- hermitage [´hə:mitidʒ] n.隐居生活(的地方) (高中英语单词)
- kindred [´kindrid] n.亲属关系；同源关系 (高中英语单词)
- loneliness [´ləunliniz] n.孤独，寂寞 (高中英语单词)
- stripe [straip] n.条纹，条子 (高中英语单词)
- assail [ə´seil] vt.猛击；困扰 (高中英语单词)
- boldly [´bəuldli] ad.大胆地；醒目地 (高中英语单词)
- solitude [´sɔlitju:d] n.孤独；寂寞；荒凉 (高中英语单词)
- hermit [´hə:mit] n.隐士 (高中英语单词)
- preliminary [pri´liminəri] a.初步的 n.预赛 (高中英语单词)
- southwest [,sauθ´west] n.&a.西南(方)(的) (高中英语单词)
- impatient [im´peiʃənt] a.不耐烦的，急躁的 (高中英语单词)
- strife [straif] n.竞争；吵架；冲突 (高中英语单词)
- preface [´prefis] n.序 v.开始；导致 (高中英语单词)
- grocery [´grəusəri] n.食品杂货店 (高中英语单词)
- commonplace [´kɔmənpleis] a.平凡的；常见的 (英语四级单词)
- speechless [´spi:tʃləs] a.说不出话的 (英语四级单词)
- touching [´tʌtʃiŋ] a.动人的 prep.提到 (英语四级单词)
- valiant [´væliənt] a.勇敢的，英勇的 (英语四级单词)
- fellowship [´feləuʃip] n.团体；伙伴关系；友谊 (英语四级单词)
- countryside [´kʌntrisaid] n.乡下，农村 (英语四级单词)
- warning [´wɔ:niŋ] n.警告；前兆 a.预告的 (英语四级单词)
- infancy [´infənsi] n.婴儿期；初期 (英语四级单词)
- garret [´gærit] n.阁楼，顶楼 (英语四级单词)
- penance [´penəns] n.悔过；(赎罪的)苦行 (英语六级单词)
- respectful [ri´spektfəl] a.恭敬的；尊敬人的 (英语六级单词)
- taking [´teikiŋ] a.迷人的 n.捕获物 (英语六级单词)
- seaward [´si:wəd] a.&ad.朝海(的) (英语六级单词)
- outstretched [,aut´stretʃt] a.扩张的；伸长的 (英语六级单词)
- holding [´həuldiŋ] n.保持，固定，存储 (英语六级单词)
- rudder [´rʌdə] n.(方向)舵；指导原则 (英语六级单词)
- doubtfully [´dautfuli] ad.怀疑地，可疑地 (英语六级单词)
- august [ɔ:´gʌst] a.尊严的；威严的 (英语六级单词)
- insistent [in´sistənt] a.坚持的；逼人注意的 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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