章节正文
had expected results. Only that morning he had swelled with
pride as he heard Mrs. Jay tell her quarrelsome husband that she
wished she could exchange him for the Cardinal. Did not the
gentle dove pause by the sumac, when she left brooding to take
her morning dip in the dust, and gaze at him with unconcealed
admiration? No doubt she devoutly wished her plain pudgy husband
wore a scarlet coat. But it is praise from one's own sex that is
praise indeed, and only an hour ago the lark had reported that
from his lookout above cloud he saw no other singeranywhere so
splendid as the Cardinal of the sumac. Because of these things
he held fast to his conviction that he was a prince indeed; and
he decided to remain in his chosen location and with his physical
and vocal attractions compel the finest little cardinal in the
fields to seek him.
He planned it all very carefully: how she would hear his splendid
music and come to take a peep at him; how she would be captivated
by his size and beauty; how she would come timidly, but come, of
course, for his approval; how he would condescend to accept her
if she pleased him in all particulars; how she would be devoted
to him; and how she would approve his choice of a home, for the
sumac was in a lovely spot for scenery, as well as nest-building.
For several days he had boasted, he had bantered, he had
challenged, he had on this last day almost condescended to
coaxing, but not one little bright-eyed cardinalfemale had come
to offer herself.
The performance of a brown thrush drove him wild with envy. The
thrush came gliding up the river bank, a rusty-coated, sneaking
thing of the underbrush, and taking possession of a thorn bush
just opposite the sumac, he sang for an hour in the open. There
was no way to improve that music. It was woven fresh from the
warp and woof of his fancy. It was a song so filled with the joy
and gladness of spring, notes so thrilled with love's pleading
and passion's tender pulsing pain, that at its close there were a
half-dozen admiring thrushfemales gathered around. With care
and deliberation the brown thrush selected the most attractive,
and she followed him to the thicket as if charmed.
It was the Cardinal's dream materialized for another before his
very eyes, and it filled him with envy. If that plain brown bird
that slinked as if he had a theft to account for, could, by
showing himself and singing for an hour, win a mate, why should
not he, the most gorgeous bird of the woods, openly flaunting his
charms and discoursing his music, have at least equal success?
Should he, the proudest, most magnificent of cardinals, be
compelled to go seeking a mate like any common bird? Perish the
thought!
He went to the river to bathe. After finding a spot where the
water flowed crystal-clear over a bed of white limestone, he
washed until he felt that he could be no cleaner. Then the
Cardinal went to his favourite sun-parlour, and stretching on a
limb, he stood his feathers on end, and sunned, fluffed and
prinked until he was immaculate.
On the tip-top antler of the old stag sumac, he perched and
strained until his jetty whiskers appeared stubby. He poured out
a tumultuous cry vibrant with every passion raging in him. He
caught up his own rolling echoes and changed and varied them. He
improvised, and set the shining river ringing, "Wet year! Wet
year!"
He whistled and whistled until all birdland and even mankind
heard, for the farmer paused at his kitchen door, with his pails
of foaming milk, and called to his wife:
"Hear that, Maria! Jest hear it! I swanny, if that bird doesn't
stop predictin' wet weather, I'll get so scared I won't durst put
in my corn afore June. They's some birds like killdeers an'
bobwhites 'at can make things pretty plain, but I never heard a
bird 'at could jest speak words out clear an' distinct like that
fellow. Seems to come from the river bottom. B'lieve I'll jest
step down that way an' see if the lower field is ready for the
plow yet."
"Abram Johnson," said his wife, "bein's you set up for an honest
man, if you want to trapse through slush an' drizzle a half-mile
to see a bird, why say so, but don't for land's sake lay it on to
plowin' 'at you know in all conscience won't be ready for a week
yet 'thout pretendin' to look."
Abram grinned sheepishly. "I'm willin' to call it the bird if
you are, Maria. I've been hearin' him from the barn all day, an'
there's somethin' kind o' human in his notes 'at takes me jest a
little diffrunt from any other bird I ever noticed. I'm really
curious to set eyes on him. Seemed to me from his singin' out to
the barn, it 'ud be mighty near like meetin' folks."
"Bosh!" exclaimed Maria. "I don't s'pose he sings a mite better
'an any other bird. It's jest the old Wabash rollin' up the
echoes. A bird singin' beside the river always sounds twicet as
fine as one on the hills. I've knowed that for forty year.
Chances are 'at he'll be gone 'fore you get there."
As Abram opened the door, "Wet year! Wet year!" pealed the
flaming prophet.
He went out, closing the door softly, and with an utter disregard
for the corn field, made a bee line for the musician.
"I don't know as this is the best for twinges o' rheumatiz," he
muttered, as he turned up his collar and drew his old hat lower
to keep the splashing drops from his face. "I don't jest rightly
s'pose I should go; but I'm free to admit I'd as lief be dead as
not to answer when I get a call, an' the fact is, I'm CALLED down
beside the river."
"Wet year! Wet year!" rolled the Cardinal's prediction.
"Thanky, old fellow! Glad to hear you! Didn't jest need the
information, but I got my bearin's rightly from it! I can about
pick out your bush, an' it's well along towards evenin', too, an'
must be mighty near your bedtime. Looks as if you might be
stayin' round these parts! I'd like it powerful well if you'd
settle right here, say 'bout where you are. An' where are you,
anyway?"
Abram went peering and dodging beside the fence, peeping into the
bushes, searching for the bird. Suddenly there was a whir of
wings and a streak of crimson.
"Scared you into the next county, I s'pose," he muttered.
But it came nearer being a scared man than a frightened bird, for
the Cardinal flashed straight toward him until only a few yards
away, and then, swaying on a bush, it chipped, cheered, peeked,
whistled broken notes, and manifested perfect delight at the
sight of the white-haired old man. Abram stared in astonishment.
"Lord A'mighty!" he gasped. "Big as a blackbird, red as a live
coal, an' a-comin' right at me. You are somebody's pet, that's
what you are! An' no, you ain't either. Settin' on a sawed
stick in a little wire house takes all the ginger out of any
bird, an' their feathers are always mussy. Inside o' a cage
never saw you, for they ain't a feather out o' place on you. You
are finer'n a piece o' red satin. An' you got that way o'
swingin' an' dancin' an' high-steppin' right out in God
A'mighty's big woods, a teeterin' in the wind, an' a dartin'
'crost the water. Cage never touched you! But you are somebody's
pet jest the same. An' I look like the man, an' you are tryin'
to tell me so, by gum!"
Leaning toward Abram, the Cardinal turned his head from side to
side, and peered, "chipped," and waited for an answering "Chip"
from a little golden-haired child, but there was no way for the
man to know that.
"It's jest as sure as fate," he said. "You think you know me,
an' you are tryin' to tell me somethin'. Wish to land I knowed
what you want! Are you tryin' to tell me `Howdy'? Well, I don't
'low nobody to be politer 'an I am, so far as I know."
Abram lifted his old hat, and the raindrops glistened on his
white hair. He squared his shoulders and stood very erect.
"Howdy, Mr. Redbird! How d'ye find yerself this evenin'? I
don't jest riccolict ever seein' you before, but I'll never meet
you agin 'thout knowin' you. When d'you arrive? Come through by
the special midnight flyer, did you? Well, you never was more
welcome any place in your life. I'd give a right smart sum this
minnit if you'd say you came to settle on this river bank. How
do you like it? To my mind it's jest as near Paradise as you'll
strike on earth.
"Old Wabash is a twister for curvin' and windin' round, an' it's
limestone bed half the way, an' the water's as pretty an' clear
as in Maria's springhouse. An' as for trimmin', why say, Mr.
Redbird, I'll jest leave it to you if she ain't all trimmed up
like a woman's spring bunnit. Look at the grass a-creepin' right
down till it's a trailin' in the water! Did you ever see jest
quite such fine fringy willers? An' you wait a little, an' the
flowerin' mallows 'at grows long the shinin' old river are fine
as garden hollyhocks. Maria says 'at thy'd be purtier 'an hers
if they were only double; but, Lord, Mr. Redbird, they are! See
'em once on the bank, an' agin in the water! An' back a little
an' there's jest thickets of papaw, an' thorns, an' wild
grape-vines, an' crab, an' red an' black haw, an' dogwood, an'
sumac, an' spicebush, an' trees! Lord! Mr. Redbird, the
sycamores, an' maples, an' tulip, an' ash, an' elm trees are so
bustin' fine 'long the old Wabash they put 'em into poetry books
an' sing songs about 'em. What do you think o' that? Jest back
o' you a little there's a sycamore split into five trunks, any
one o' them a famous big tree, tops up 'mong the clouds, an'
roots diggin' under the old river; an' over a little farther's a
maple 'at's eight big trees in one. Most anything you can name,
you can find it 'long this ole Wabash, if you only know where to
hunt for it.
"They's mighty few white men takes the trouble to look, but the
Indians used to know. They'd come canoein' an' fishin' down the
river an' camp under these very trees, an' Ma 'ud git so mad at
the old squaws. Settlers wasn't so thick then, an' you had to be
mighty careful not to rile 'em, an' they'd come a-trapesin' with
their wild berries. Woods full o' berries! Anybody could get
'em by the bushel for the pickin', an' we hadn't got on to
raisin' much wheat, an' had to carry it on horses over into Ohio
to get it milled. Took Pa five days to make the trip; an' then
the blame old squaws 'ud come, an' Ma 'ud be compelled to hand
over to 'em her big white loaves. Jest about set her plumb
crazy. Used to get up in the night, an' fix her yeast, an' bake,
an' let the oven cool, an' hide the bread out in the wheat bin,
an' get the smell of it all out o' the house by good daylight,
so's 'at she could say there wasn't a loaf in the cabin. Oh! if
it's good pickin' you're after, they's berries for all creation
'long the river yet; an' jest wait a few days till old April gets
done showerin' an' I plow this corn field!"
Abram set a foot on the third rail and leaned his elbows on the
top. The Cardinal chipped delightedly and hopped and tilted
closer.
"I hadn't jest 'lowed all winter I'd tackle this field again.
I've turned it every spring for forty year. Bought it when I was
a young fellow, jest married to Maria. Shouldered a big debt on
it; but I always loved these slopin' fields, an' my share of this
old Wabash hasn't been for sale nor tradin' any time this past
forty year. I've hung on to it like grim death, for it's jest
that much o' Paradise I'm plumb sure of. First time I plowed
this field, Mr. Redbird, I only hit the high places. Jest
married Maria, an' I didn't touch earth any too frequent all that
summer. I've plowed it every year since, an' I've been 'lowin'
all this winter, when the rheumatiz was gettin' in its work, 'at
I'd give it up this spring an' turn it to medder; but I don't
know. Once I got started, b'lieve I could go it all right an'
not feel it so much, if you'd stay to cheer me up a little an'
post me on the weather. Hate the doggondest to own I'm worsted,
an' if you say it's stay, b'lieve I'll try it. Very sight o' you
pride as he heard Mrs. Jay tell her quarrelsome husband that she
wished she could exchange him for the Cardinal. Did not the
gentle dove pause by the sumac, when she left brooding to take
her morning dip in the dust, and gaze at him with unconcealed
admiration? No doubt she devoutly wished her plain pudgy husband
wore a scarlet coat. But it is praise from one's own sex that is
praise indeed, and only an hour ago the lark had reported that
from his lookout above cloud he saw no other singeranywhere so
splendid as the Cardinal of the sumac. Because of these things
he held fast to his conviction that he was a prince indeed; and
he decided to remain in his chosen location and with his physical
and vocal attractions compel the finest little cardinal in the
fields to seek him.
He planned it all very carefully: how she would hear his splendid
music and come to take a peep at him; how she would be captivated
by his size and beauty; how she would come timidly, but come, of
course, for his approval; how he would condescend to accept her
if she pleased him in all particulars; how she would be devoted
to him; and how she would approve his choice of a home, for the
sumac was in a lovely spot for scenery, as well as nest-building.
For several days he had boasted, he had bantered, he had
challenged, he had on this last day almost condescended to
coaxing, but not one little bright-eyed cardinalfemale had come
to offer herself.
The performance of a brown thrush drove him wild with envy. The
thrush came gliding up the river bank, a rusty-coated, sneaking
thing of the underbrush, and taking possession of a thorn bush
just opposite the sumac, he sang for an hour in the open. There
was no way to improve that music. It was woven fresh from the
warp and woof of his fancy. It was a song so filled with the joy
and gladness of spring, notes so thrilled with love's pleading
and passion's tender pulsing pain, that at its close there were a
half-dozen admiring thrushfemales gathered around. With care
and deliberation the brown thrush selected the most attractive,
and she followed him to the thicket as if charmed.
It was the Cardinal's dream materialized for another before his
very eyes, and it filled him with envy. If that plain brown bird
that slinked as if he had a theft to account for, could, by
showing himself and singing for an hour, win a mate, why should
not he, the most gorgeous bird of the woods, openly flaunting his
charms and discoursing his music, have at least equal success?
Should he, the proudest, most magnificent of cardinals, be
compelled to go seeking a mate like any common bird? Perish the
thought!
He went to the river to bathe. After finding a spot where the
water flowed crystal-clear over a bed of white limestone, he
washed until he felt that he could be no cleaner. Then the
Cardinal went to his favourite sun-parlour, and stretching on a
limb, he stood his feathers on end, and sunned, fluffed and
prinked until he was immaculate.
On the tip-top antler of the old stag sumac, he perched and
strained until his jetty whiskers appeared stubby. He poured out
a tumultuous cry vibrant with every passion raging in him. He
caught up his own rolling echoes and changed and varied them. He
improvised, and set the shining river ringing, "Wet year! Wet
year!"
He whistled and whistled until all birdland and even mankind
heard, for the farmer paused at his kitchen door, with his pails
of foaming milk, and called to his wife:
"Hear that, Maria! Jest hear it! I swanny, if that bird doesn't
stop predictin' wet weather, I'll get so scared I won't durst put
in my corn afore June. They's some birds like killdeers an'
bobwhites 'at can make things pretty plain, but I never heard a
bird 'at could jest speak words out clear an' distinct like that
fellow. Seems to come from the river bottom. B'lieve I'll jest
step down that way an' see if the lower field is ready for the
plow yet."
"Abram Johnson," said his wife, "bein's you set up for an honest
man, if you want to trapse through slush an' drizzle a half-mile
to see a bird, why say so, but don't for land's sake lay it on to
plowin' 'at you know in all conscience won't be ready for a week
yet 'thout pretendin' to look."
Abram grinned sheepishly. "I'm willin' to call it the bird if
you are, Maria. I've been hearin' him from the barn all day, an'
there's somethin' kind o' human in his notes 'at takes me jest a
little diffrunt from any other bird I ever noticed. I'm really
curious to set eyes on him. Seemed to me from his singin' out to
the barn, it 'ud be mighty near like meetin' folks."
"Bosh!" exclaimed Maria. "I don't s'pose he sings a mite better
'an any other bird. It's jest the old Wabash rollin' up the
echoes. A bird singin' beside the river always sounds twicet as
fine as one on the hills. I've knowed that for forty year.
Chances are 'at he'll be gone 'fore you get there."
As Abram opened the door, "Wet year! Wet year!" pealed the
flaming prophet.
He went out, closing the door softly, and with an utter disregard
for the corn field, made a bee line for the musician.
"I don't know as this is the best for twinges o' rheumatiz," he
muttered, as he turned up his collar and drew his old hat lower
to keep the splashing drops from his face. "I don't jest rightly
s'pose I should go; but I'm free to admit I'd as lief be dead as
not to answer when I get a call, an' the fact is, I'm CALLED down
beside the river."
"Wet year! Wet year!" rolled the Cardinal's prediction.
"Thanky, old fellow! Glad to hear you! Didn't jest need the
information, but I got my bearin's rightly from it! I can about
pick out your bush, an' it's well along towards evenin', too, an'
must be mighty near your bedtime. Looks as if you might be
stayin' round these parts! I'd like it powerful well if you'd
settle right here, say 'bout where you are. An' where are you,
anyway?"
Abram went peering and dodging beside the fence, peeping into the
bushes, searching for the bird. Suddenly there was a whir of
wings and a streak of crimson.
"Scared you into the next county, I s'pose," he muttered.
But it came nearer being a scared man than a frightened bird, for
the Cardinal flashed straight toward him until only a few yards
away, and then, swaying on a bush, it chipped, cheered, peeked,
whistled broken notes, and manifested perfect delight at the
sight of the white-haired old man. Abram stared in astonishment.
"Lord A'mighty!" he gasped. "Big as a blackbird, red as a live
coal, an' a-comin' right at me. You are somebody's pet, that's
what you are! An' no, you ain't either. Settin' on a sawed
stick in a little wire house takes all the ginger out of any
bird, an' their feathers are always mussy. Inside o' a cage
never saw you, for they ain't a feather out o' place on you. You
are finer'n a piece o' red satin. An' you got that way o'
swingin' an' dancin' an' high-steppin' right out in God
A'mighty's big woods, a teeterin' in the wind, an' a dartin'
'crost the water. Cage never touched you! But you are somebody's
pet jest the same. An' I look like the man, an' you are tryin'
to tell me so, by gum!"
Leaning toward Abram, the Cardinal turned his head from side to
side, and peered, "chipped," and waited for an answering "Chip"
from a little golden-haired child, but there was no way for the
man to know that.
"It's jest as sure as fate," he said. "You think you know me,
an' you are tryin' to tell me somethin'. Wish to land I knowed
what you want! Are you tryin' to tell me `Howdy'? Well, I don't
'low nobody to be politer 'an I am, so far as I know."
Abram lifted his old hat, and the raindrops glistened on his
white hair. He squared his shoulders and stood very erect.
"Howdy, Mr. Redbird! How d'ye find yerself this evenin'? I
don't jest riccolict ever seein' you before, but I'll never meet
you agin 'thout knowin' you. When d'you arrive? Come through by
the special midnight flyer, did you? Well, you never was more
welcome any place in your life. I'd give a right smart sum this
minnit if you'd say you came to settle on this river bank. How
do you like it? To my mind it's jest as near Paradise as you'll
strike on earth.
"Old Wabash is a twister for curvin' and windin' round, an' it's
limestone bed half the way, an' the water's as pretty an' clear
as in Maria's springhouse. An' as for trimmin', why say, Mr.
Redbird, I'll jest leave it to you if she ain't all trimmed up
like a woman's spring bunnit. Look at the grass a-creepin' right
down till it's a trailin' in the water! Did you ever see jest
quite such fine fringy willers? An' you wait a little, an' the
flowerin' mallows 'at grows long the shinin' old river are fine
as garden hollyhocks. Maria says 'at thy'd be purtier 'an hers
if they were only double; but, Lord, Mr. Redbird, they are! See
'em once on the bank, an' agin in the water! An' back a little
an' there's jest thickets of papaw, an' thorns, an' wild
grape-vines, an' crab, an' red an' black haw, an' dogwood, an'
sumac, an' spicebush, an' trees! Lord! Mr. Redbird, the
sycamores, an' maples, an' tulip, an' ash, an' elm trees are so
bustin' fine 'long the old Wabash they put 'em into poetry books
an' sing songs about 'em. What do you think o' that? Jest back
o' you a little there's a sycamore split into five trunks, any
one o' them a famous big tree, tops up 'mong the clouds, an'
roots diggin' under the old river; an' over a little farther's a
maple 'at's eight big trees in one. Most anything you can name,
you can find it 'long this ole Wabash, if you only know where to
hunt for it.
"They's mighty few white men takes the trouble to look, but the
Indians used to know. They'd come canoein' an' fishin' down the
river an' camp under these very trees, an' Ma 'ud git so mad at
the old squaws. Settlers wasn't so thick then, an' you had to be
mighty careful not to rile 'em, an' they'd come a-trapesin' with
their wild berries. Woods full o' berries! Anybody could get
'em by the bushel for the pickin', an' we hadn't got on to
raisin' much wheat, an' had to carry it on horses over into Ohio
to get it milled. Took Pa five days to make the trip; an' then
the blame old squaws 'ud come, an' Ma 'ud be compelled to hand
over to 'em her big white loaves. Jest about set her plumb
crazy. Used to get up in the night, an' fix her yeast, an' bake,
an' let the oven cool, an' hide the bread out in the wheat bin,
an' get the smell of it all out o' the house by good daylight,
so's 'at she could say there wasn't a loaf in the cabin. Oh! if
it's good pickin' you're after, they's berries for all creation
'long the river yet; an' jest wait a few days till old April gets
done showerin' an' I plow this corn field!"
Abram set a foot on the third rail and leaned his elbows on the
top. The Cardinal chipped delightedly and hopped and tilted
closer.
"I hadn't jest 'lowed all winter I'd tackle this field again.
I've turned it every spring for forty year. Bought it when I was
a young fellow, jest married to Maria. Shouldered a big debt on
it; but I always loved these slopin' fields, an' my share of this
old Wabash hasn't been for sale nor tradin' any time this past
forty year. I've hung on to it like grim death, for it's jest
that much o' Paradise I'm plumb sure of. First time I plowed
this field, Mr. Redbird, I only hit the high places. Jest
married Maria, an' I didn't touch earth any too frequent all that
summer. I've plowed it every year since, an' I've been 'lowin'
all this winter, when the rheumatiz was gettin' in its work, 'at
I'd give it up this spring an' turn it to medder; but I don't
know. Once I got started, b'lieve I could go it all right an'
not feel it so much, if you'd stay to cheer me up a little an'
post me on the weather. Hate the doggondest to own I'm worsted,
an' if you say it's stay, b'lieve I'll try it. Very sight o' you
- scarlet [´skɑ:lit]
n.猩红色 a.猩红的 (初中英语单词) - singer [´siŋə] n.歌手，演唱者 (初中英语单词)
- anywhere [´eniweə] ad.无论何处；任何地方 (初中英语单词)
- conviction [kən´vikʃən] n.定罪；确信，信服 (初中英语单词)
- prince [´prins] n.王子；亲王；君主 (初中英语单词)
- approve [ə´pru:v] v.赞成；同意；批准 (初中英语单词)
- female [´fi:meil] a.女(性)的 n.女人 (初中英语单词)
- performance [pə´fɔ:məns] n.履行；行为；工作 (初中英语单词)
- account [ə´kaunt] vi.说明 vt.认为 n.帐目 (初中英语单词)
- magnificent [mæg´nifisənt] a.壮丽的；豪华的 (初中英语单词)
- perish [´periʃ] v.灭亡；消灭；(使)死去 (初中英语单词)
- limestone [´laimstəun] n.石灰石 (初中英语单词)
- passion [´pæʃən] n.激情；激怒；恋爱 (初中英语单词)
- distinct [di´stiŋkt] a.清楚的；独特的 (初中英语单词)
- conscience [´kɔnʃəns] n.良心；道德心 (初中英语单词)
- softly [´sɔftli] ad.软化地；柔和地 (初中英语单词)
- collar [´kɔlə] n.衣领；(狗等的)项圈 (初中英语单词)
- feather [´feðə] n.羽毛 (初中英语单词)
- midnight [´midnait] n.午夜；漆黑 (初中英语单词)
- paradise [´pærədais] n.天堂；乐园 (初中英语单词)
- poetry [´pəuitri] n.诗；诗意 (初中英语单词)
- frequent [´fri:kwənt] a.常见的，频繁的 (初中英语单词)
- cardinal [´kɑ:dinəl] a.主要的 n.深红色 (高中英语单词)
- decided [di´saidid] a.明显的；决定的 (高中英语单词)
- location [ləu´keiʃən] n.定位；位置；地方 (高中英语单词)
- approval [ə´pru:vəl] n.赞成，批准，认可 (高中英语单词)
- scenery [´si:nəri] n.舞台布景 (高中英语单词)
- thicket [´θikit] n.灌木丛；密集的东西 (高中英语单词)
- gorgeous [´gɔ:dʒəs] a.华丽的；宜人的 (高中英语单词)
- openly [´əupənli] ad.公开地；直率地 (高中英语单词)
- finding [´faindiŋ] n.发现物；判断；结果 (高中英语单词)
- mighty [´maiti] a.强有力的 ad.很 (高中英语单词)
- streak [stri:k] n.纹理 v.用线条(条纹) (高中英语单词)
- ginger [´dʒindʒə] n.姜；精神，元气 (高中英语单词)
- tackle [´tækəl] n.用具；装置 vt.处理 (高中英语单词)
- lookout [´lukaut] n.警戒；景色；前途 (英语四级单词)
- thrush [θrʌʃ] n.画眉鸟 (英语四级单词)
- underbrush [´ʌndəbrʌʃ] n.矮树丛 (英语四级单词)
- gladness [´glædnis] n.愉快，高兴，喜悦 (英语四级单词)
- deliberation [dilibə´reiʃ(ə)n] n.仔细考虑；商量 (英语四级单词)
- cleaner [´kli:nə] n.清洁工人；干洗商 (英语四级单词)
- antler [´æntlə] n.鹿角，茸角 (英语四级单词)
- varied [´veərid] a.各种各样的 (英语四级单词)
- rightly [´raitli] ad.正义地；正确地 (英语四级单词)
- bedtime [´bedtaim] n.就寝时间 (英语四级单词)
- blackbird [´blækbə:d] n.画眉，燕八哥 (英语四级单词)
- timidly [´timidli] ad.胆怯地 (英语六级单词)
- condescend [,kɔndi´send] vi.屈尊；堕落 (英语六级单词)
- taking [´teikiŋ] a.迷人的 n.捕获物 (英语六级单词)
- sycamore [´sikəmɔ:] n.美国梧桐；枫树 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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