章节正文
making mud pies in the barnyard.
"I told him he might," said Marilla wearily. "I thought it would
keep him out of worse mischief. He can only get dirty at that.
We'll have our teas over before we call him to his. Dora can have
hers with us, but I would never dare to let Davy sit down at the
table with all the Aids here."
When Anne went to call the Aids to tea she found that Dora was not
in the parlor. Mrs. Jasper Bell said Davy had come to the front
door and called her out. A hasty consultation with Marilla in the
pantry resulted in a decision to let both children have their teas
together later on.
Tea was half over when the dining room was invaded by a forlorn
figure. Marilla and Anne stared in dismay, the Aids in amazement.
Could that be Dora. . .that sobbing nondescript in a drenched,
dripping dress and hair from which the water was streaming on
Marilla's new coin-spot rug?
"Dora, what has happened to you?" cried Anne, with a guilty glance
at Mrs. Jasper Bell, whose family was said to be the only one in
the world in which accidents never occurred.
"Davy made me walk the pigpen fence," wailed Dora. "I didn't want
to but he called me a fraid-cat. And I fell off into the pigpen and
my dress got all dirty and the pig runned right over me. My dress
was just awful but Davy said if I'd stand under the pump he'd wash
it clean, and I did and he pumped water all over me but my dress
ain't a bit cleaner and my pretty sash and shoes is all spoiled."
Anne did the honors of the table alone for the rest of the meal
while Marilla went upstairs and redressed Dora in her old clothes.
Davy was caught and sent to bed without any supper. Anne went to
his room at twilight and talked to him seriously. . .a method in
which she had great faith, not altogether unjustified by results.
She told him she felt very badly over his conduct.
"I feel sorry now myself," admitted Davy, "but the trouble is I
never feel sorry for doing things till after I've did them.
Dora wouldn't help me make pies, cause she was afraid of messing her
clo'es and that made me hopping mad. I s'pose Paul Irving wouldn't
have made HIS sister walk a pigpen fence if he knew she'd fall in?"
"No, he would never dream of such a thing. Paul is a perfect
little gentleman."
Davy screwed his eyes tight shut and seemed to meditate on this for
a time. Then he crawled up and put his arms about Anne's neck,
snuggling his flushed little face down on her shoulder.
"Anne, don't you like me a little bit, even if I ain't a good boy like Paul?"
"Indeed I do," said Anne sincerely. Somehow, it was impossible to help
liking Davy. "But I'd like you better still if you weren't so naughty."
"I. . .did something else today," went on Davy in a muffled voice.
"I'm sorry now but I'm awful scared to tell you. You won't be very
cross, will you? And you won't tell Marilla, will you?"
"I don't know, Davy. Perhaps I ought to tell her. But I think I
can promise you I won't if you promise me that you will never do it
again, whatever it is."
"No, I never will. Anyhow, it's not likely I'd find any more of
them this year. I found this one on the cellar steps."
"Davy, what is it you've done?"
"I put a toad in Marilla's bed. You can go and take it out if you like.
But say, Anne, wouldn't it be fun to leave it there?"
"Davy Keith!" Anne sprang from Davy's clinging arms and flew across
the hall to Marilla's room. The bed was slightly rumpled. She
threw back the blankets in nervous haste and there in very truth
was the toad, blinking at her from under a pillow.
"How can I carry that awful thing out?" moaned Anne with a shudder.
The fire shovel suggested itself to her and she crept down to get it
while Marilla was busy in the pantry. Anne had her own troubles carrying
that toad downstairs, for it hopped off the shovel three times and
once she thought she had lost it in the hall. When she finally
deposited it in the cherryorchard she drew a long breath of relief.
"If Marilla knew she'd never feel safe getting into bed again in
her life. I'm so glad that little sinner repented in time.
There's Diana signaling to me from her window. I'm glad. . .I
really feel the need of some diversion, for what with Anthony Pye
in school and Davy Keith at home my nerves have had about all they
can endure for one day."
IX
A Question of Color
"That old nuisance of a Rachel Lynde was here again today,
pestering me for a subscription towards buying a carpet for the
vestry room," said Mr. Harrison wrathfully. "I detest that woman
more than anybody I know. She can put a whole sermon, text, comment,
and application, into six words, and throw it at you like a brick."
Anne, who was perched on the edge of the veranda, enjoying the charm
of a mild west wind blowing across a newly ploughed field on a gray
November twilight and piping a quaint little melody among the twisted
firs below the garden, turned her dreamy face over her shoulder.
"The trouble is, you and Mrs. Lynde don't understand one another,"
she explained. "That is always what is wrong when people don't
like each other. I didn't like Mrs. Lynde at first either; but as
soon as I came to understand her I learned to."
"Mrs. Lynde may be an acquired taste with some folks; but I didn't
keep on eating bananas because I was told I'd learn to like them if
I did," growled Mr. Harrison." And as for understanding her, I
understand that she is a confirmed busybody and I told her so."
"Oh, that must have hurt her feelings very much," said Anne
reproachfully. "How could you say such a thing? I said some
dreadful things to Mrs. Lynde long ago but it was when I had
lost my temper. I couldn't say them DELIBERATELY."
"It was the truth and I believe in telling the truth to everybody."
"But you don't tell the whole truth," objected Anne. "You only
tell the disagreeable part of the truth. Now, you've told me a
dozen times that my hair was red, but you've never once told me
that I had a nice nose."
"I daresay you know it without any telling," chuckled Mr. Harrison.
"I know I have red hair too. . .although it's MUCH darker than it
used to be. . .so there's no need of telling me that either."
"Well, well, I'll try and not mention it again since you're so
sensitive. You must excuse me, Anne. I've got a habit of being
outspoken and folks mustn't mind it."
"But they can't help minding it. And I don't think it's any help
that it's your habit. What would you think of a person who went
about sticking pins and needles into people and saying, `Excuse me,
you mustn't mind it. . .it's just a habit I've got.' You'd think
he was crazy, wouldn't you? And as for Mrs. Lynde being a busybody,
perhaps she is. But did you tell her she had a very kind heart and
always helped the poor, and never said a word when Timothy Cotton
stole a crock of butter out of her dairy and told his wife he'd
bought it from her? Mrs. Cotton cast it up to her the next time
they met that it tasted of turnips and Mrs. Lynde just said she
was sorry it had turned out so poorly."
"I suppose she has some good qualities," conceded Mr. Harrison grudgingly.
"Most folks have. I have some myself, though you might never suspect it.
But anyhow I ain't going to give anything to that carpet. Folks are
everlasting begging for money here, it seems to me. How's your project
of painting the hall coming on?"
"Splendidly. We had a meeting of the A.V.I.S. last Friday night and
found that we had plenty of money subscribed to paint the and shingle
the roof too. MOST people gave very liberally, Mr. Harrison."
Anne was a sweet-souled lass, but she could instill some venom into
innocent italics when occasion required.
"What color are you going to have it?"
"We have decided on a very pretty green. The roof will be dark red,
of course. Mr. Roger Pye is going to get the paint in town today."
"Who's got the job?"
"Mr. Joshua Pye of Carmody. He has nearly finished the shingling.
We had to give him the contract, for every one of the Pyes. . .
and there are four families, you know. . .said they wouldn't give
a cent unless Joshua got it. They had subscribed twelve dollars
between them and we thought that was too much to lose, although
some people think we shouldn't have given in to the Pyes.
Mrs. Lynde says they try to run everything."
"The main question is will this Joshua do his work well. If he does
I don't see that it matters whether his name is Pye or Pudding."
"He has the reputation of being a good workman, though they say
he's a very peculiar man. He hardly ever talks."
"He's peculiar enough all right then," said Mr. Harrison drily.
"Or at least, folks here will call him so. I never was much of a
talker till I came to Avonlea and then I had to begin in self-defense
or Mrs. Lynde would have said I was dumb and started a subscription
to have me taught sign language. You're not going yet, Anne?"
"I must. I have some sewing to do for Dora this evening. Besides,
Davy is probably breaking Marilla's heart with some new mischief by
this time. This morning the first thing he said was, `Where does
the dark go, Anne? I want to know.' I told him it went around to
the other side of the world but after breakfast he declared it
didn't. . .that it went down the well. Marilla says she caught
him hanging over the well-box four times today, trying to reach
down to the dark."
"He's a limb," declared Mr. Harrison. "He came over here
yesterday and pulled six feathers out of Ginger's tail before I
could get in from the barn. The poor bird has been moping ever
since. Those children must be a sight of trouble to you folks."
"Everything that's worth having is some trouble," said Anne,
secretly resolving to forgive Davy's next offence, whatever it
might be, since he had avenged her on Ginger.
Mr. Roger Pye brought the hall paint home that night and Mr. Joshua
Pye, a surly, taciturn man, began painting the next day. He was
not disturbed in his task. The hall was situated on what was called
"the lower road." In late autumn this road was always muddy and wet,
and people going to Carmody traveled by the longer "upper" road.
The hall was so closely surrounded by fir woods that it was invisible
unless you were near it. Mr. Joshua Pye painted away in the solitude
and independence that were so dear to his unsociable heart.
Friday afternoon he finished his job and went home to Carmody.
Soon after his departure Mrs. Rachel Lynde drove by, having braved
the mud of the lower road out of curiosity to see what the hall
looked like in its new coat of paint. When she rounded the spruce
curve she saw.
The sight affected Mrs. Lynde oddly. She dropped the reins, held
up her hands, and said "Gracious Providence!" She stared as if she
could not believe her eyes. Then she laughed almost hysterically.
"There must be some mistake. . .there must. I knew those Pyes would
make a mess of things."
Mrs. Lynde drove home, meeting several people on the road and
stopping to tell them about the hall. The news flew like wildfire.
Gilbert Blythe, poring over a text book at home, heard it from his
father's hired boy at sunset, and rushed breathlessly to Green
Gables, joined on the way by Fred Wright. They found Diana Barry,
Jane Andrews, and Anne Shirley, despair personified, at the yard
gate of Green Gables, under the big leafless willows.
"It isn't true surely, Anne?" exclaimed Gilbert.
"It is true," answered Anne, looking like the muse of tragedy.
"Mrs. Lynde called on her way from Carmody to tell me. Oh, it is
simply dreadful! What is the use of trying to improve anything?"
"What is dreadful?" asked Oliver Sloane, arriving at this moment
with a bandbox he had brought from town for Marilla.
"Haven't you heard?" said Jane wrathfully. "Well, its simply this.
. .Joshua Pye has gone and painted the hall blue instead of green.
. .a deep, brilliant blue, the shade they use for painting carts
and wheelbarrows. And Mrs. Lynde says it is the most hideous
color for a building, especially when combined with a red roof,
that she ever saw or imagined. You could simply have knocked me
down with a feather when I heard it. It's heartbreaking, after all
the trouble we've had."
"How on earth could such a mistake have happened?" wailed Diana.
"I told him he might," said Marilla wearily. "I thought it would
keep him out of worse mischief. He can only get dirty at that.
We'll have our teas over before we call him to his. Dora can have
hers with us, but I would never dare to let Davy sit down at the
table with all the Aids here."
When Anne went to call the Aids to tea she found that Dora was not
in the parlor. Mrs. Jasper Bell said Davy had come to the front
door and called her out. A hasty consultation with Marilla in the
pantry resulted in a decision to let both children have their teas
together later on.
Tea was half over when the dining room was invaded by a forlorn
figure. Marilla and Anne stared in dismay, the Aids in amazement.
Could that be Dora. . .that sobbing nondescript in a drenched,
dripping dress and hair from which the water was streaming on
Marilla's new coin-spot rug?
"Dora, what has happened to you?" cried Anne, with a guilty glance
at Mrs. Jasper Bell, whose family was said to be the only one in
the world in which accidents never occurred.
"Davy made me walk the pigpen fence," wailed Dora. "I didn't want
to but he called me a fraid-cat. And I fell off into the pigpen and
my dress got all dirty and the pig runned right over me. My dress
was just awful but Davy said if I'd stand under the pump he'd wash
it clean, and I did and he pumped water all over me but my dress
ain't a bit cleaner and my pretty sash and shoes is all spoiled."
Anne did the honors of the table alone for the rest of the meal
while Marilla went upstairs and redressed Dora in her old clothes.
Davy was caught and sent to bed without any supper. Anne went to
his room at twilight and talked to him seriously. . .a method in
which she had great faith, not altogether unjustified by results.
She told him she felt very badly over his conduct.
"I feel sorry now myself," admitted Davy, "but the trouble is I
never feel sorry for doing things till after I've did them.
Dora wouldn't help me make pies, cause she was afraid of messing her
clo'es and that made me hopping mad. I s'pose Paul Irving wouldn't
have made HIS sister walk a pigpen fence if he knew she'd fall in?"
"No, he would never dream of such a thing. Paul is a perfect
little gentleman."
Davy screwed his eyes tight shut and seemed to meditate on this for
a time. Then he crawled up and put his arms about Anne's neck,
snuggling his flushed little face down on her shoulder.
"Anne, don't you like me a little bit, even if I ain't a good boy like Paul?"
"Indeed I do," said Anne sincerely. Somehow, it was impossible to help
liking Davy. "But I'd like you better still if you weren't so naughty."
"I. . .did something else today," went on Davy in a muffled voice.
"I'm sorry now but I'm awful scared to tell you. You won't be very
cross, will you? And you won't tell Marilla, will you?"
"I don't know, Davy. Perhaps I ought to tell her. But I think I
can promise you I won't if you promise me that you will never do it
again, whatever it is."
"No, I never will. Anyhow, it's not likely I'd find any more of
them this year. I found this one on the cellar steps."
"Davy, what is it you've done?"
"I put a toad in Marilla's bed. You can go and take it out if you like.
But say, Anne, wouldn't it be fun to leave it there?"
"Davy Keith!" Anne sprang from Davy's clinging arms and flew across
the hall to Marilla's room. The bed was slightly rumpled. She
threw back the blankets in nervous haste and there in very truth
was the toad, blinking at her from under a pillow.
"How can I carry that awful thing out?" moaned Anne with a shudder.
The fire shovel suggested itself to her and she crept down to get it
while Marilla was busy in the pantry. Anne had her own troubles carrying
that toad downstairs, for it hopped off the shovel three times and
once she thought she had lost it in the hall. When she finally
deposited it in the cherryorchard she drew a long breath of relief.
"If Marilla knew she'd never feel safe getting into bed again in
her life. I'm so glad that little sinner repented in time.
There's Diana signaling to me from her window. I'm glad. . .I
really feel the need of some diversion, for what with Anthony Pye
in school and Davy Keith at home my nerves have had about all they
can endure for one day."
IX
A Question of Color
"That old nuisance of a Rachel Lynde was here again today,
pestering me for a subscription towards buying a carpet for the
vestry room," said Mr. Harrison wrathfully. "I detest that woman
more than anybody I know. She can put a whole sermon, text, comment,
and application, into six words, and throw it at you like a brick."
Anne, who was perched on the edge of the veranda, enjoying the charm
of a mild west wind blowing across a newly ploughed field on a gray
November twilight and piping a quaint little melody among the twisted
firs below the garden, turned her dreamy face over her shoulder.
"The trouble is, you and Mrs. Lynde don't understand one another,"
she explained. "That is always what is wrong when people don't
like each other. I didn't like Mrs. Lynde at first either; but as
soon as I came to understand her I learned to."
"Mrs. Lynde may be an acquired taste with some folks; but I didn't
keep on eating bananas because I was told I'd learn to like them if
I did," growled Mr. Harrison." And as for understanding her, I
understand that she is a confirmed busybody and I told her so."
"Oh, that must have hurt her feelings very much," said Anne
reproachfully. "How could you say such a thing? I said some
dreadful things to Mrs. Lynde long ago but it was when I had
lost my temper. I couldn't say them DELIBERATELY."
"It was the truth and I believe in telling the truth to everybody."
"But you don't tell the whole truth," objected Anne. "You only
tell the disagreeable part of the truth. Now, you've told me a
dozen times that my hair was red, but you've never once told me
that I had a nice nose."
"I daresay you know it without any telling," chuckled Mr. Harrison.
"I know I have red hair too. . .although it's MUCH darker than it
used to be. . .so there's no need of telling me that either."
"Well, well, I'll try and not mention it again since you're so
sensitive. You must excuse me, Anne. I've got a habit of being
outspoken and folks mustn't mind it."
"But they can't help minding it. And I don't think it's any help
that it's your habit. What would you think of a person who went
about sticking pins and needles into people and saying, `Excuse me,
you mustn't mind it. . .it's just a habit I've got.' You'd think
he was crazy, wouldn't you? And as for Mrs. Lynde being a busybody,
perhaps she is. But did you tell her she had a very kind heart and
always helped the poor, and never said a word when Timothy Cotton
stole a crock of butter out of her dairy and told his wife he'd
bought it from her? Mrs. Cotton cast it up to her the next time
they met that it tasted of turnips and Mrs. Lynde just said she
was sorry it had turned out so poorly."
"I suppose she has some good qualities," conceded Mr. Harrison grudgingly.
"Most folks have. I have some myself, though you might never suspect it.
But anyhow I ain't going to give anything to that carpet. Folks are
everlasting begging for money here, it seems to me. How's your project
of painting the hall coming on?"
"Splendidly. We had a meeting of the A.V.I.S. last Friday night and
found that we had plenty of money subscribed to paint the and shingle
the roof too. MOST people gave very liberally, Mr. Harrison."
Anne was a sweet-souled lass, but she could instill some venom into
innocent italics when occasion required.
"What color are you going to have it?"
"We have decided on a very pretty green. The roof will be dark red,
of course. Mr. Roger Pye is going to get the paint in town today."
"Who's got the job?"
"Mr. Joshua Pye of Carmody. He has nearly finished the shingling.
We had to give him the contract, for every one of the Pyes. . .
and there are four families, you know. . .said they wouldn't give
a cent unless Joshua got it. They had subscribed twelve dollars
between them and we thought that was too much to lose, although
some people think we shouldn't have given in to the Pyes.
Mrs. Lynde says they try to run everything."
"The main question is will this Joshua do his work well. If he does
I don't see that it matters whether his name is Pye or Pudding."
"He has the reputation of being a good workman, though they say
he's a very peculiar man. He hardly ever talks."
"He's peculiar enough all right then," said Mr. Harrison drily.
"Or at least, folks here will call him so. I never was much of a
talker till I came to Avonlea and then I had to begin in self-defense
or Mrs. Lynde would have said I was dumb and started a subscription
to have me taught sign language. You're not going yet, Anne?"
"I must. I have some sewing to do for Dora this evening. Besides,
Davy is probably breaking Marilla's heart with some new mischief by
this time. This morning the first thing he said was, `Where does
the dark go, Anne? I want to know.' I told him it went around to
the other side of the world but after breakfast he declared it
didn't. . .that it went down the well. Marilla says she caught
him hanging over the well-box four times today, trying to reach
down to the dark."
"He's a limb," declared Mr. Harrison. "He came over here
yesterday and pulled six feathers out of Ginger's tail before I
could get in from the barn. The poor bird has been moping ever
since. Those children must be a sight of trouble to you folks."
"Everything that's worth having is some trouble," said Anne,
secretly resolving to forgive Davy's next offence, whatever it
might be, since he had avenged her on Ginger.
Mr. Roger Pye brought the hall paint home that night and Mr. Joshua
Pye, a surly, taciturn man, began painting the next day. He was
not disturbed in his task. The hall was situated on what was called
"the lower road." In late autumn this road was always muddy and wet,
and people going to Carmody traveled by the longer "upper" road.
The hall was so closely surrounded by fir woods that it was invisible
unless you were near it. Mr. Joshua Pye painted away in the solitude
and independence that were so dear to his unsociable heart.
Friday afternoon he finished his job and went home to Carmody.
Soon after his departure Mrs. Rachel Lynde drove by, having braved
the mud of the lower road out of curiosity to see what the hall
looked like in its new coat of paint. When she rounded the spruce
curve she saw.
The sight affected Mrs. Lynde oddly. She dropped the reins, held
up her hands, and said "Gracious Providence!" She stared as if she
could not believe her eyes. Then she laughed almost hysterically.
"There must be some mistake. . .there must. I knew those Pyes would
make a mess of things."
Mrs. Lynde drove home, meeting several people on the road and
stopping to tell them about the hall. The news flew like wildfire.
Gilbert Blythe, poring over a text book at home, heard it from his
father's hired boy at sunset, and rushed breathlessly to Green
Gables, joined on the way by Fred Wright. They found Diana Barry,
Jane Andrews, and Anne Shirley, despair personified, at the yard
gate of Green Gables, under the big leafless willows.
"It isn't true surely, Anne?" exclaimed Gilbert.
"It is true," answered Anne, looking like the muse of tragedy.
"Mrs. Lynde called on her way from Carmody to tell me. Oh, it is
simply dreadful! What is the use of trying to improve anything?"
"What is dreadful?" asked Oliver Sloane, arriving at this moment
with a bandbox he had brought from town for Marilla.
"Haven't you heard?" said Jane wrathfully. "Well, its simply this.
. .Joshua Pye has gone and painted the hall blue instead of green.
. .a deep, brilliant blue, the shade they use for painting carts
and wheelbarrows. And Mrs. Lynde says it is the most hideous
color for a building, especially when combined with a red roof,
that she ever saw or imagined. You could simply have knocked me
down with a feather when I heard it. It's heartbreaking, after all
the trouble we've had."
"How on earth could such a mistake have happened?" wailed Diana.
- mischief [´mistʃif]
n.伤害；故障；调皮 (初中英语单词) - parlor [´pɑ:lə] n.客厅；起居室 (初中英语单词)
- dismay [dis´mei] n.惊慌 vt.使惊慌 (初中英语单词)
- guilty [´gilti] a.有罪的；心虚的 (初中英语单词)
- twilight [´twailait] n.黎明；黄昏 (初中英语单词)
- seriously [´siəriəsli] ad.严肃；严重，重大 (初中英语单词)
- altogether [,ɔ:ltə´geðə] ad.完全；总而言之 (初中英语单词)
- whatever [wɔt´evə] pron.&a.无论什么 (初中英语单词)
- cellar [´selə] n.地窑，地下室 (初中英语单词)
- sprang [spræŋ] spring 的过去式 (初中英语单词)
- slightly [´slaitli] ad.轻微地；细长的 (初中英语单词)
- nervous [´nə:vəs] a.神经的；神经过敏的 (初中英语单词)
- downstairs [,daun´steəz] ad.在楼下 a.楼下的 (初中英语单词)
- orchard [´ɔ:tʃəd] n.果园 (初中英语单词)
- breath [breθ] n.呼吸；气息 (初中英语单词)
- endure [in´djuə] vt.忍耐，忍受；坚持 (初中英语单词)
- carpet [´kɑ:pit] n.地毯 vt.铺地毯 (初中英语单词)
- application [,æpli´keiʃən] n.申请；申请书；应用 (初中英语单词)
- temper [´tempə] n.韧度 v.锻炼；调和 (初中英语单词)
- suspect [´sʌspekt, sə´spekt] v.怀疑；觉得 n.嫌疑犯 (初中英语单词)
- painting [´peintiŋ] n.绘画；(油)画；着色 (初中英语单词)
- peculiar [pi´kju:liə] a.特有的；奇异的 (初中英语单词)
- forgive [fə´giv] vt.原谅，谅解，宽恕 (初中英语单词)
- situated [´sitʃueitid] a.位于；处于....境地 (初中英语单词)
- independence [,indi´pendəns] n.独立，自主，自立 (初中英语单词)
- departure [di´pɑ:tʃə] n.离开，出发 (初中英语单词)
- curiosity [,kjuəri´ɔsiti] n.好奇；奇事；珍品 (初中英语单词)
- sunset [´sʌnset] n.日落；晚霞 (初中英语单词)
- despair [di´speə] vi.&n.绝望 (初中英语单词)
- brilliant [´briliənt] a.灿烂的；杰出的 (初中英语单词)
- feather [´feðə] n.羽毛 (初中英语单词)
- sincerely [sin´siəli] ad.真诚地；诚恳地 (高中英语单词)
- shovel [´ʃʌvəl] n.铲子；铁锹 (高中英语单词)
- pantry [´pæntri] n.食品室；餐具室 (高中英语单词)
- cherry [´tʃeri] n.樱桃(树) (高中英语单词)
- nuisance [´nju:səns] n.损害；讨厌的人(事) (高中英语单词)
- sermon [´sə:mən] n.说教；训诫；讲道 (高中英语单词)
- quaint [kweint] a.离奇的；奇妙的 (高中英语单词)
- melody [´melədi] n.悦耳的音调；乐曲 (高中英语单词)
- learned [´lə:nid] a.有学问的，博学的 (高中英语单词)
- disagreeable [,disə´gri:əbl] a.令人不悦的 (高中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- decided [di´saidid] a.明显的；决定的 (高中英语单词)
- workman [´wə:kmən] n.工人；工作人员 (高中英语单词)
- sewing [´səuiŋ] n.缝纫；(书的)装订 (高中英语单词)
- hanging [´hæŋiŋ] n.绞刑 a.悬挂着的 (高中英语单词)
- wearily [´wiərili] ad.疲倦地；厌烦地 (英语四级单词)
- consultation [,kɔnsəl´teiʃən] n.商量；会诊；查阅 (英语四级单词)
- cleaner [´kli:nə] n.清洁工人；干洗商 (英语四级单词)
- upstairs [,ʌp´steəz] ad.在楼上 a.楼上的 (英语四级单词)
- meditate [´mediteit] v.考虑；策划；反省 (英语四级单词)
- sinner [´sinə] n.罪人 (英语四级单词)
- diversion [dai´və:ʃən] n.转移；消遣 (英语四级单词)
- subscription [səb´skripʃən] n.预订；预约；捐款 (英语四级单词)
- detest [di´test] vt.痛恨，憎恶 (英语四级单词)
- veranda [və´rændə] n.游廊；阳台 (英语四级单词)
- reputation [repju´teiʃən] n.名誉；名声；信誉 (英语四级单词)
- trying [´traiiŋ] a.难堪的；费劲的 (英语四级单词)
- traveled [´trævəld] a.见面广的；旅客多的 (英语四级单词)
- breathlessly [´breθlisli] ad.气喘吁吁地 (英语四级单词)
- dreamy [´dri:mi] a.心不在焉的；朦胧的 (英语六级单词)
- affected [ə´fektid] a.做作的；假装的 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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