-To wash, signora.
>> 1900 Movie Script

I've just cleaned my face You can give the ring twice, but you can't wash your face twice?
>> 西域雄狮 Once Upon a Time in China and America Movie Script

“Betsey, go find July and the men and ask them if they want to wash up before we go,” she said.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Something about the men coming from the north struck a key in her memory, but struck it so weakly that she only paused for a moment to wonder who it could be. She finished her task and then washed her face, for the dust was blowing and she had gotten gritty coming back from the lots. It was the kind of dust that seemed to sift through your clothes. She contemplated changing blouses, but if she did that, the next thing she knew she would be taking baths in the morning and changing clothes three times a day like a fine lady, and she didn’t have that many clothes, or consider herself that fine. So she made do with a face wash and forgot about the riders. July and Cholo were both working the lots and would no doubt notice them too. Probably it was just a few Army men wanting to buy horses. Red Cloud was harrying them hard, and every week two or three Army men would show up wanting horses.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“No,” Cholo said. “She is better.” “Bob taught me,” Clara said. “We didn’t have any help when we first came here. I wasn’t strong enough to hold the horses so I got stuck with the messier job.” They gelded fifteen young horses and left them in the pen where they could be watched. July had stopped feeling weak, but even so it was a wonder to him how hard Clara and the old man worked. They didn’t stop to rest until the job was done, by which time they were all soaked with sweat. Clara splashed water out of the horse trough to wash her hands and forearms, and immediately started for the house.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“If you’d like a wash first, I’ll have the girls draw some water,” Clara said. “I didn’t get your name.” “I’m July Johnson,” July said. “I come from Arkansas.” Clara almost dropped the poker. The girls had told her the little scarfaced man had said the woman they were with was married to a sheriff named Johnson, from Arkansas. She hadn’t given the story much credence—the woman didn’t strike her as the marrying type. Besides, the little man had whispered something to the effect that the big buffalo hunter considered himself married to her. The girls thought it mighty exciting, having a woman in the house who was married to two men. And if that wasn’t complicated enough, the woman herself claimed to be married to Dee Boot, the gunfighter they had hung last week. Cholo had been in town when the hanging took place and reported that the hanging had gone smoothly.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Clara had bought the piano with money saved all those years from the sale of her parents’ little business in Texas. She had never let Bob use the money—another bone of contention between them. She wanted it for her children, so when the time came they could be sent away to school and not have to spend their whole youth in such a raw, lonely place. The first of the money she spent was on the two-story frame house they had built three years before, after nearly fifteen years of life in the sod house Bob had dug for her on a slope above the Platte. Clara had always hated the sod house—hated the dirt that seeped down on her bedclothes, year after year. It was dust that caused her firstborn, Jim, to cough virtually from his birth until he died a year later. In the mornings Clara would walk down and wash her hair in the icy waters of the Platte, and yet by supper time, if she happened to scratch her head, her fingernails would fill with dirt that had seeped down during the day. For some reason, no matter where she moved her bed, the roof would trickle dirt right onto it. She tacked muslin, and finally canvas, on the ceiling over the bed but nothing stopped the dirt for long. It sifted through. It seemed to her that all her children had been conceived in dust clouds, dust rising from the bedclothes or sifting down from the ceiling. Centipedes and other bugs loved the roof; day after day they crawled down the walls, to end up in her stewpots or her skillets or the trunks where she stored her clothes.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

At times, waiting, she had almost decided just to take the horse and the mule and try to find her way back to Lonesome Dove. Xavier had said he would marry her and take her anywhere she wanted to go. She remembered the day he had come into the room—his wild eyes, his threat to kill Jake. When she had nothing to do but sit around and think about it, her capacity for mistakes discouraged her so that she considered drowning herself in the little pool. But it was a sunny, pretty morning, and when she went into the pool a little later, it was only to wash her hair in the cool water. For a moment she put her head under and opened her eyes, but it felt silly—to die in such an element was only ridiculous. She began to wonder if perhaps she was touched—if that was why she made mistakes. Her mother had been touched. She often babbled of people no one knew. She talked to dead relatives, dead babies, speaking to them as if they were still alive. Lorena wondered if it was mistakes that had made her mother do that. Perhaps, after so many mistakes, your mind finally broke loose and wandered back and forth between past and present.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“If that’s what it is, I don’t blame him,” Jasper said. “Pea needs to wash his underwear more than twice a year.” “The Captain likes to go off,” Pea said, ignoring the remark about his underwear.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“I don’t favor mustaches much,” Louisa said. “But then life’s a matter of give and take.”They had eaten the corn bread right out of the pan, so there were no dishes to wash. Louisa got up and threw a few crumbs out the door to her chickens, who rushed at them greedily, two of them coming right into the cabin.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“Well, I’ve been a deputy sheriff for a good spell,” Roscoe said. “I keep the jail.” Louisa was watching him closely in a way that made him a little uncomfortable. The only light in the cabin came from a small coal-oil lamp on the table. A few small bugs buzzed around the lamp, their movements casting shadows on the table. The corn bread was so dry that Roscoe kept having to dip dipperfuls of water to wash it down.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“I don’t see young Jake,” he said. “Is he off preaching a sermon, or did he wash away?” “He went to look for the horse, only I guess he went in the wrong direction,” Lorie said.
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Once he left, she went down to the river to wash the mud off her legs. Then, since the sun was already hot, she found a grassy place that wasn’t too wet and lay down to have a nap. Looking up at the sky, her spirits rose even more. The sky was perfectly clear and blue, only whitened with sun over to the east. Being outside felt good—she had spent too much time in little hot rooms, looking at ceilings.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“There ain’t no point in gettin’ too dry,” he pointed out. “We got to cross the river after a while.” “I’d just as soon go around it,” Needle said. “I’ve crossed it many times but I’ve been lucky.” “I’ll be glad to cross it—maybe I’ll get a wash,” Lippy said. “I can’t do much under all this mud.” “Why, that ain’t a river, it’s just a creek,” Dish said. “The last time I crossed it I didn’t even notice it.” “I guess you’ll notice it if five or six of them heifers get on top of you,” Jasper said.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

The river was green and the water cold underneath the surface. She waded in and stood chest-deep, letting the water wash away the layers of dust and sweat. As she was wading out, feeling clean and light, she got a scare: a big snapping turtle sat on the bank right where she had entered the river. It was big as a tub and so ugly Lorena didn’t want to get near it. She waded upstream, and just as she got out heard a shot—Jake was shooting his pistol at the turtle. He walked down to the water, probably just because he liked to see her naked.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“I’m going to have a wash,” Lorena said.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

E FIRST GOOD WASH Lorena got was in the Nueces River. They had had a bad day trying to fight their way through mesquite thickets, and when they came to the river she just decided to stop, particularly since she found a shady spot where there wasn’t any mesquite or prickly pear.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“I never expected to find you to be still in bed at this hour, Jake,” Augustus said. “You’ll have a time keeping up with us if you don’t improve your habits. By the way, Soupy hired on this morning. He inquired about you.” “There goes the easy money,” Jake said. “Soupy will win ever cent you boys can earn in the next ten years. He’s been known to win from me, and that ain’t easy.” “Well, I’m going to town,” Augustus said. “Want me to pick you up a Bible or a few hymnbooks?” “Nope, we’re leaving,” Jake said. “Soon as we pack.” “That won’t be soon,” Augustus said. “You’ve scattered stuff over three acres just making this one little camp.” That was true. They had unpacked in the dark and made a mess of it. Jake was looking for a whiskey bottle that wasn’t where he thought he’d put it. It was plain camping wasn’t a neat way of life. There was no place to wash, and they were carrying very little water, which was the main reason she had refused Jake. She liked a wash and felt he could wait until they camped near a river and could splash a little of the dust off before bedding down.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“No, we ain’t,” Call said. “I guess Gus is saving him for Christmas, or else he just likes to talk to him.” “Well, step down and have a wash at the bucket,” Maude said. “I’m cooking one of that shoat’s cousins right this minute.” It had to be admitted that Maude Rainey set a fine table. Call had no sooner got his sleeves rolled up and his hands clean than supper began. Joe Rainey just had time to mumble a prayer before Maude started pushing around the cornbread.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“I wisht it was a bigger tub,” he said. “We could have us a wash together.” Lorena had never heard of such a thing. It surprised her how coolly Jake stripped off for his wash. Like all men who weren’t pure gamblers, he was burned brown on his face and neck and hands, and was fish-white on the rest of his body.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

It was Pea’s one close exposure to an aspect of womankind that Gus was always talking about—their penchant for flyingdirectly in the face of reason. Mary was as wet on the top as on the bottom, and the flapping sheet had knocked one of the combs out of her hair, causing it to come loose. The wash was as wet as it had been before she hung it up in the first place, and yet she wasn’t quitting. She was taking clothes off the line that would just have to be hung back on in fifteen minutes, and Pea was helping her do it as if it all made some sense. While he was steadying the clothesline he happened to notice something that gave him almost as hard a jolt as the bolt of lightning that killed Josh Cole: the clothes he had rescued were undergarments—white bloomers of the sort that it was obvious Mary was wearing beneath the skirt that was so wet against her legs. Pea was so shocked that he almost dropped the underpants back in the mud. She was bound to think it bold that he would pick up her undergarments like that—yet she was determined to have the sheets off the line and all he could do was stand there numb with embarrassment. It was a blessing that rain soon began to pour off his hat brim in streams right in front of his face, making a little waterfall for him to hide behind until the ordeal ended. With the water running off his hat he only caught blurred glimpses of what was going on—he could not judge to what extent Mary had been shocked by his helpful but thoughtless act.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

But the storm had a start on both of them, and before he even got there the rain began to pour down, turning the white dust brown. Most women would have seen at that point that the wash was a lost cause and run for the house, but Mary wasn’t running. Her skirt was already so wet it was plastered to her legs, but she was still struggling with one of the flapping sheets. In the struggle, two or three small garments that she had already gathered up blew out of her hand and off across the yard, which had begun to look like a shallow lake. Pea hurried to retrieve the garments and then helped Mary get the wet sheet off the line—she was evidently just doing it out of pure stubbornness, since the sun was shining brightly to the west of the storm and would obviously be available to dry the sheet again in a few minutes.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“Once you left, our standards slipped,” Augustus said. “The majority of this outfit ain’t interested in refinements.” “That’s plain,” Jake said. “There’s a damn pig on the back porch. What about them biscuits?” “Much as I’ve missed you, I ain’t overworking my sourdough just because you and Deets couldn’t manage to get here in time,” Augustus said. “What I will do is fry some meat.” He fried it, and Jake and Deets ate it, while Bolivar sat in the corner and sulked at the thought of two more breakfasts to wash up after. It amused Augustus to watch Jake eat—he was so fastidious about it—but the sight put Call into a black fidget. Jake could spend twenty minutes picking at some eggs and a bit of bacon. It was obvious to Augustus that Call was trying to be polite and let Jake get some food in his belly before he told his story, but Call was not a patient man and had already controlled his urge to get to work longer than was usual. He stood in the door, watching the whitening sky and looking restless enough to bite himself.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“That old pistolero’s been cleaning his gun on this towel,” Jake said. “It’s filthy dirty.” “If it’s just his six-shooter he’s cleaning on it you oughtn’t to complain,” Augustus said. “There’s worse things he could wipe on it.” “Hell, don’t you men ever wash?” Jake asked. “That old Mex didn’t even want to give me a pan of water.” It was the kind of remark Call had no patience with, but that was Jake, more interested in fancy arrangements than in the more important matters.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“Boys, I’d like a drink and maybe even a wash, if you can spare one,” he said. “My luck’s been running kinda muddy lately, but I’d like to get water enough in me that I can at least spit before I tell you about it.” “Why, sure,” Augustus said. “Go fill the dipper. You want us to stay out here and hold off the posses?” “There ain’t no posses,” Jake said, going in the house.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇