词汇：meal

n. 一餐，一顿饭；膳食

相关场景

He ate one meal a day.
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Miss a meal if you have to, but don't miss a book.
>> 吉米·罗恩(Jim Rohn)
All the prisoners get their final meal before they're executed What can it hurt?
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Watching Woodrow Call awkwardly handling his fork caused her to repent a little of her harshness when he arrived, but she didn’t apologize. She had stopped expecting July to contribute to the conversation, but she resented his silence nevertheless. Once Martin spat out a bite of perfectly good food and Clara looked at him sharply and said “You behave,” in a tone that instantly put a stop to his fretting. Martin opened his mouth to cry but thought better of it and chewedmiserably on his spoon until the meal was finished.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Clara didn’t answer. The girls had cooked the meal, and she directed the serving with only a glance now and then.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
When the plains darkened and they went in to supper, Lorena still stood by the wagon. The meal was eaten in silence, except for little Martin’s fretting. He was used to being the center of gay attention and couldn’t understand why no one laughed when he flung his spoon down, or why no one sang to him, or offered him sweets.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I sit there alone,” she said. “I don’t want the girls to be there because I don’t want them to get death too much in their minds. I sit there and I think, I’m alone, and I can’t help this child. If it wants to die I can’t stop it. I can love it until I bleed and it won’t stop it. I hope it won’t die. I hope it can grow up and have its time. I know how I’ll feel if it does die, how long it’ll take me to care if I draw breath, much less about cooking and the girls and all the things you have to do if you’re alive.” Clara paused. In the lots a sorrel stallion whinnied. He was her favorite, but this day she appeared not to hear him.“I know if I lose one more child I’ll never care again,” she said. “I won’t. Nothing will make any difference to me again if I lose one more. It’ll ruin me, and that’ll ruin my girls. I’ll never buy another horse, or cook another meal, or take another man. I’ll starve, or else I’ll go crazy and welcome it. Or I’ll kill the doctor for not coming, or you for not sitting with me, or something. If you want to marry me, why don’t you come and sit?” July realized then that he had managed to do a terrible thing, though all he had done was go to his room in the ordinary way. It startled him to hear Clara say she could kill him over such a thing as that, but he knew from her look that it wasn’t just talk.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
That night he wondered if he ought to leave. He could not stay around Clara without nursing hopes, and yet he could detect no sign that she cared about him. Sometimes he thought she did, but when he thought it over he always concluded that he had just been imagining things. Her remarks to him generally had a stinging quality, but he would often not realize he had been stung until after she left the scene. Working together in the lots, which they did whenever the weather was decent, she often lectured him on his behavior with the horses. She didn’t feel he paid close attention to them. July was at a loss to know how anyone could pay close attention to a horse when she was around, and yet the more his eyes turned to her the worse he did with the horses and the more disgusted she grew. His eyes would turn to her, though. She had taken to wearing her husband’s old coat and overshoes, both much too big for her. She wouldn’t wear gloves—she claimed the horses didn’t like it—and her large bony hands often got so cold she would have to stick them under the coat for a few minutes to warm them. She wore a variety of caps that she had ordered from somewhere—apparently she liked caps as much as she liked cake. None of them were particularly suited to a Nebraska winter. Her favorite one was an old Army cap Cholo had picked up on the plains somewhere. Sometimes Clara would tie a wool scarf over it to keep her ears warm, but usually the scarf came untied in the course of working with the horses, so that when they walked back up for a meal her hair was usually spilling over the collar of the big coat. Yet July couldn’t stop his eyes from feasting on her. He thought she was wonderfully beautiful, so beautiful that merely to walk with her from the lots to the house, when she was in a good mood, was enough to make him give up for another month all thought of leaving. He told himself that just being able to work with her was enough. And yet, it wasn’t—which is why the question finally forced itself out. He was miserable all night, for she hadn’t answered the question. But he had spoken the words and revealed what he wanted. He supposed she would think worse of him than she already did, once she thought it over.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The day after they crossed the Marais, Old Dog disappeared. From being a lead steer, he had drifted back to the drags and usually trailed a mile or two behind the herd. Always he was there in the morning, but one morning he wasn’t. Newt and the Raineys, still in charge of the drags, went back to look for him and saw two grizzlies making a meal of the old steer. At the sight of the bears their horses bolted and raced back to the herd. Their fear instantly communicated itself to all the animals and the herd and remuda stampeded. Several cowboys got thrown, including Newt, but no one was hurt, though it took an afternoon to gather the scattered herd.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
That afternoon July came back with a minister. The two nearest neighbors came—German families. Clara had seen more of the men than of the women—the men would come to buy horses and stay for a meal. She almost regretted having notified them. Why should they interrupt their work just to see Bob put in the ground? They sang two hymns, the Germans singing loudly in poor English. Mrs. Jensch, the wife of one of the German farmers, weighed over three hundred pounds. The girls had a hard time not staring at her. The buggy she rode in tilted far to one side under her weight. The minister was invited to stay the night and got rather drunk after supper—he was known to drink too much, when he got the chance. His name was the Reverend Spinnow and he had a large purple birthmark under one ear. A widower, he was easily excited by the presence of women. He was writing a book on prophecy and rattled on about it as they all sat in the living room. Soon both Clara and Lorena felt like choking him.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“It is, too,” Betsey insisted. “If he’s got white hair he could die any time.” Lorena found that she didn’t think about Gus all that much. She was glad she had stayed at Clara’s. For almost the first time in her life she had a decent bed in a clean room and tasteful meals and people around who were kind to her. She liked having a whole room to herself, alone. Of course, she had had a room in Lonesome Dove, but it hadn’t been the same. Men could come into that room—letting them in was a condition of having it. But she didn’t have to let anyone into her room in Clara’s house, though often she-did let Betsey, who suffered from nightmares, into it. One night Betsey stumbled in, crying—Clara was out of the house, taking one of the strange walks she liked to take. Lorena was surprised and offered to go find Clara, but Betsey wasn’t listening. She came into the bed like a small animal and snuggled into Lorena’s arms. Lorena let her stay the night, and from then on, when Betsey had a nightmare, she came to Lorena’s room and Lorena soothed her.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Oh, we could,” Augustus said. “We could have stopped pretty much anywhere along the way. It’s only your stubbornness kept us going this long. I guess it’ll be interesting to see if it can get us the next eighty miles.” Call got a plate and ate a big meal. He expected Po Campo to say something about their predicament, but the old cook merely dished out the food and said nothing. Deets was helping Pea Eye trim one of his horse’s feet, a task Pea Eye had never been good at.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Come ride to town with me,” Augustus said to Call. “This place is quiet as a church on Monday. I’ll buy you a meal and we can sit and talk philosophy.” “No, I’ll stay,” Call said. “I don’t know a philosophy.” “Your philosophy is to worry too much,” Augustus said. “Jake would have gone with me quick enough if we hadn’t hung him.” “Damn it, he brought it on himself,” Call said.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Yes,” Clara said. “Red Cloud’s fed up. Bob treated them fair and we’ve never had to fear them. I was more scared as a girl. The Comanches would come right into Austin and take children. I always dreamed they’d get me and I’d have red babies.” July had never felt so irresolute. He ought to go, and yet he didn’t. Though he had worked hard, he had little appetite, andafter the meal spent more time cleaning his gun than was really necessary.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
July realized it all had something to do with him, but he couldn’t get his mind on it. He carried his plate to the sink and thanked Clara for the meal. Then he went out on the front porch, glad it was a dark night. He felt he would cry. It was puzzling; he didn’t know what to do. He had never heard of a wife doing any of the things Elmira had done. He sat on the steps of the porch, sadder and more bewildered than he had been even on the night when he got back to the river and discovered the three bodies. There was nothing to do about death, but Elmira was alive. He had to do something—he just didn’t know what.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I think you’re mean,” Sally said. She was quick to attack mother and sister alike. “Daddy’s sick, or he’d talk.” “All right,” Clara said. “I’ll take that back.” In fact, she could remember a thousand meals when Bob hadn’t said a word.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Thin milk, Clara thought—and no wonder, for the woman probably hadn’t eaten a decent meal in months. She refused to look at the baby, even when it took her breast. Clara had to hold it and encourage it, rubbing its little lips with milk.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Dish could hardly believe his luck when Augustus told him to take Lorena her meals and look after her. The thought that he would be allowed to go over to the tent made him a little dizzy.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“This is like living in a hotel, Lorie,” Augustus said. “We got people toting us meals as fast as we can eat them.” At that point the cook got careless and the little pack mule took a kick at him which barely missed.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“That’s why I hope I go to heaven,” Po Campo said. “I don’t want nothing more to do with that woman.” “This here ain’t Montana,” Call said. “Let’s start the cattle.” That night, true to his word, Po Campo fried some grasshoppers. Before he got around to it he fed the crew a normal meal of beefsteak and beans and even conjured up a stew whose ingredients were mysterious but which all agreed was excellent. Allen O’Brien thought it was better than excellent—it changed his whole outlook on life, and he pressed Po Campo to tell him what was in it.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“This is a free country we live in,” Augustus reminded them. “Anyone who don’t like this coffee can spit it out and make their own.” No one cared to do anything that extreme. Since Call didn’t believe in stopping for a meal at noon, breakfast was a necessity, whoever cooked it.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“They eat most anything,” Roscoe said. “I guess they can’t be choosy.” After the meal, Roscoe felt less lightheaded. The girl sat a few feet away, staring into the waters of the creek. She seemed just a child. Her legs were muddy from wading in the creek, her arms still bruised from her troubles with old Sam. Some of the bruises were blue, others had faded to yellow. The cotton-sack dress was torn in several places.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Augustus volunteered to drive the wagon back to the herd on condition he could have a drink and a meal first. He hadn’t been to San Antonio in years and he marveled at the new establishments that had sprung up.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Several times they came upon farms. July asked the farmers if they had seen Jake, and twice was told that yes, Jake had spent the night. But they themselves didn’t spend the night, and rarely even took a meal. Once on a hot afternoon July did accept a glass of buttermilk from a farmer’s wife. Joe got one too. There were several little girls on that farm, who giggled every time they looked at Joe, but he ignored them. The farmer’s wife asked them twice to stay overnight, but they went on and made camp in a place thick with mosquitoes.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I won’t have no pigs around,” Louisa said. “Too smart. I won’t bother with animals I have to outwit. I’d rather just farm.” True to her word, Louisa served up a meal of corn bread, washed down with well water. The cabin was roomy and clean, but there was not much food in it. Roscoe was puzzled as to how Louisa could keep going with nothing but corn bread in her. It occurred to him that he had not seen a milk cow anywhere, so evidently she had even dispensed with such amenities as milk and butter.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇