词汇：glad

adj. 高兴的；乐意的；令人高兴的；灿烂美丽的

相关场景

“I am not such a scoundrel as to sell grub,” he said. “You’re welcome to come to camp and eat with my tough bunch, if you can stand them.” “I doubt we could,” Augustus said quietly. “We’re both shy.” “Oh, I see,” Wilbarger said, glancing at Lorena again. “I’m damn glad you don’t have a herd. You’d think there’d be room enough for everybody on these plains, but as you can see, the view is crowding up. I was going to try a crossing today but I’ve decided to wait for morning.” He was silent a moment, considering the problem of their shyness.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
One night, cleaning his rifle, he was startled by the sound of his own voice. He had never been one to talk to himself, but as he cleaned the gun, he had been having, in his head, the conversation with Gus that there had not been time to have before Gus left. “I wish you’d killed the man when you had a chance,” he said. “I wish you’d never encouraged Jake to bring that girl.” The words had just popped out. He was doubly glad he was alone, for if the men had heard him they would have thought him daft.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Roscoe was glad he hadn’t had to go with the other men. He remembered how weak he had felt that afternoon when he realized it was bullets that were hitting in the grass around him. It had sounded like bees sounded in the leaves; but of course it was bullets.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“You better be glad of that,” he said. “If it had been an Indian you’d have got scalped.” “Reckon they’ve had the fight yet?” Joe asked. “I’ll be glad when they get back.” “It might be morning before they get back,” Roscoe said. “We better just rest. The minute July gets back he’ll wanta go on looking for your mother.” “I guess she’s found Dee,” Joe said. “She likes Dee.” “Then how come she married July, dern it?” Roscoe asked. “It was the start of all this, you know. We’d be back in Arkansas playing dominoes if she hadn’t married July.” Every time Roscoe tried to think back along the line of events that had led to his being in a place where there was no trees to lean against, he strayed off the line and soon got all tangled up in his thinking. It was probably better not to try and think back down the line of life.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“We won’t hear it much,” Roscoe said. “That campfire was way off. Anyway, maybe it’s just cowboys and there won’t be no fight.” “But we saw Indians,” Joe said. “I bet it’s them.” “It might be them,” Roscoe admitted. “But maybe they just kept running.” “I hope they didn’t run this direction,” Joe said. He hated to admit how scared he was, but he was a good deal more scared than he could remember being before in his life. Usually when they camped he was so glad to be stopped he just unrolled his blanket and went to sleep, but though he unrolled his blanket as usual, he didn’t go to sleep. It was the first time he had been separated from July on the whole trip, and he was surprised at how much scarier it felt. They had been forbidden to build a fire, so all they could do was sit in the dark. Of course it wasn’t cold, but a fire would have made things more cheerful.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Blue Duck had a heavy, square face—he kept shaking the dice in his big hand. Sometimes he would play with a strand of his shaggy hair, as a girl would. Sometimes Lorena thought maybe she could grab a gun and shoot him—the men left their rifles laying around. But the gun hadn’t worked when she tried to shoot Tinkersley, and if she tried to shoot Blue Duck and didn’t kill him she would be in for it. She might be in for it anyway, though it seemed to her the men were scared of him too. Even Monkey John was cautious when Blue Duck was around. They might be glad to see him dead. She didn’t try it. It was because she was so frightened of him that she wanted to, yet the same fright kept her from it.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
He didn’t have long to enjoy being glad, though. That night they camped on the plains, twenty miles north of Fort Worth.July felt it was all right to sleep without a guard, as there were trail herds on both sides of them. They could hear the night herders singing to the cattle.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Joe was glad she wasn’t coming. She made him feel that he didn’t do things very well.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I don’t intend to spend the night here,” July said. “Has she got a horse?” “No, but she’s quick of foot,” Roscoe said. “She’s been keeping ahead of me without no trouble. Where are we going?” “To Fort Worth,” July said. “The sheriff there will probably be glad to get these men.” “Yes, he will, the son of a bitch,” Hutto said.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I dream about them,” Janey said, not reassured. “They just keep coming, and I can’t run.” Except for snapping turtles and sleep, she seemed to fear nothing. Many times coiled rattlers would sing at them as they traveled, and Janey would never give the snakes a glance. Old Memphis was more nervous about snakes than she was, and Roscoe more nervous than either one of them. He had once heard of a man being bitten by a rattlesnake that had gotten up in a tree. According to the story, the snake had dropped right off a limb and onto the man and had bitten him in the neck. Roscoe imagined how unpleasant it could be to have a snake drop on one’s neck—he took care to ride under as few limbs as possible and was glad to see the trees thinning out as they rode west.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I guess we ought to ask them if they’ve seen Roscoe,” July said. “He could be south of us. Or they might have news of Jake.” They loped over to the wagon just as the wrangler turned loose the horse herd. The horses, fifty or sixty of them, were jumping and frisking, kicking up their heels and nickering at one another, glad to be moving. July and Joe waited until the wrangler had them headed north before trotting on toward the wagon. The cook wore an old black hat, and had a long, dirty beard.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I’m glad there’s some left,” he said. “I know the hide hunters have about killed them off.” Late that day they rode into Fort Worth. The number of houses amazed Joe, and the wide, dusty streets were filled with wagons and buggies. July decided they ought to go to the post office first, though at the last minute he became so worried about his letter that he almost decided not to mail it. He wanted badly to mail it, and yet he didn’t want to.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I bet she’ll be glad to get the letter,” Joe said, to cheer July up. July had been nothing but gloomy since they left Fort Smith.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“It looks too long,” Joe said, glad to be asked. “I’d take out a letter or two.” July studied the matter for several minutes and finally decided he might spare one of the “e” letters. But when he took it out the word looked too short, so when he recopied the letter, he put it back in.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
At dawn he let her down again, by another creek, and this time she did as he did—peed and drank. They rode all day again through empty country, never seeing a horseman, a town, even an animal. The only thing she noticed was that there were fewer trees. She grew so tired of riding that she would have been glad to die, if only because it meant being stopped. She wanted sleep more than she had ever wanted anything. The sun blazed all day. When she dozed, sweat stood on her eyelids and wet her face when she awoke.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Buenos dias,” Po Campo said to the group at large. “If that donkey ever gets here we’ll have breakfast.” “Why can’t we have it now?” Augustus asked. “You’re here and I see you brought the eggs.” “Yes, but I need my skillet,” Po Campo said. “I’m glad I spotted those plovers. It’s not every day I find this many plover’s eggs.” “It’s not every day I eat them,” Augustus said. “What’d you say your name was?” “Po Campo,” the old man said. “I like this boy here. He helped me gather these eggs, although he’s bunged up from gettin’ throwed.” “Well, I’m Augustus McCrae,” Augustus said. “You’ll have to do the best you can with this rough old crew.” Po Campo whistled at his donkey. “Plover’s eggs are better than quail’s eggs,” he said. “More taste, although quail’s eggs aren’t bad if you boil them and let them cool.” He went around the camp shaking hands with each man in turn. By the time he had finished meeting the crew the donkey had arrived, and in a remarkably short time Po Campo had unpacked a huge skillet, made himself a little grill with a couple of branding irons laid across two chunks of firewood, and had scrambled up sixty or seventy plover’s eggs. He sprinkled in a few spices from his pack and cooked the eggs until they could be cut in slices, like an egg pie. After sampling his own wares and grunting cryptically, he gave each man a slice. Some, like Jasper, were reluctant to sample such exotic fare, but once they had eaten a bite or two their reluctance disappeared.“Dern, this is the best bird-egg pie I ever tasted,” Jasper admitted. “It’s better than hen’s eggs.” “Don’t you even know an omelet when you see one, Jasper?” Augustus said. He was miffed to see the new cook become a hero in five minutes, whereas he had cooked excellent biscuits for years and drawn little praise.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The alone feeling had come back, the feeling that had been with her most of her life. In a way she was glad it had. Being alone was easier and more restful than having to talk to a boy. Anyway, why send a boy? He wouldn’t be able to stand up to a bandit.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“She’s barely a mile from here,” Augustus said. “He can find her.” “I would have been glad to take on the chore,” Dish pointed out.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“No, I’ve shot many a sassy bandit with this pistol,” he said. “I’m glad to have my hat, though. It don’t do to go into a scrape bareheaded.” The rider was close enough by then that she too could see the occasional flash of sun on the saddle. A few minutes later he rode into camp. He was a big man, riding a bay stallion. Gus had been right: he was an Indian. He had long, tangled black hair and wore no hat—just a bandana tied around his head. His leather leggings were greasy and his boots old, though he wore a pair of silver spurs with big rowels. He had a large knife strapped to one leg and carried a rifle lightly across the pommel of his saddle.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I guess Willie will be so glad to see us he’ll offer us a free dinner, at least,” Augustus said, as they trotted over to the saloon. “Maybe a free whore, too, if he’s prospering.” But when they strode in, there was no sign of Willie or anyone they recognized. A young bartender with slick hair and a string tie gave them a look when they stepped to the bar, but seemed as if he could scarcely be troubled to serve them.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The fall convinced him he had lived long enough with Americans. They were not his compañeros. Most of his compañeros were dead, but his country wasn’t dead, and in his village there were a few men who liked to talk about the old days when they had spent all their time stealing Texas cattle. In those years his wife had not been so angry. As he walked toward the busted wagon and the little group of men, he decided to go back. He was tired of seeing his family only in dreams. Perhaps this time when he walked in, his wife would be glad to see him.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Thank you, men,” he said. “I believe if my mule hadn’t got out soon, he would have learned to live on fish. They’re self- reliant creatures.” “I’m July Johnson and this is Joe,” July said. “You didn’t need to throw away your baggage.” “I’ve suffered no loss,” the man said. “I’m glad I found a river to unload that stuff in. Maybe the fish and the tadpoles will make better use of it than I have.” “Well, I’ve never seen a fish that used a bedroll,” July said.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I don’t want to go to San Antone,” she said. “I been there.” Jake was taken aback. “Why, it’s a good gambling town,” he said. “We ain’t rich yet. It wouldn’t hurt us to stop for a week, while the boys get the herd started good. Then we can catch up.” “I don’t like to go back to places,” Lorena said. “It’s bad luck.” “Yes, and it would be worse luck to get up the trail and run out of money.” “That’s all right, Jake,” Augustus said, flinging the dregs of his coffee into a chaparral bush. “I’ll be glad to keep tabs on Lorie while you run into town and lose your wad.”“What makes you think I’d lose it?” Jake said, his face darkening.
>> 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
After the night deepened, the moon came out and rose above the pines. Elmira sat on the stump and watched it, glad to be alone. The thought that July and Joe would be going off caused her spirits to lift—it occurred to her that once they left there would be nothing to stop her from leaving too. Boats went up the Arkansas nearly every week. It might be that Dee Boot was missing her as much as she missed him. He wouldn’t mind that she was with child—such things he took lightly.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇