词汇：seldom

adv. 很少，不常

相关场景

Dish, too, at the last moment, felt a powerful ache inside him at the thought of leaving the bunch. Though most of the hands were disgraceful, rude and incompetent, they were still his compañeros. He liked young Newt and enjoyed teasing Jasper. He even had a sneaking fondness for Lippy, who had appointed himself cook’s helper and seldom got far from the big fireplace.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“They seldom drag their womenfolk into battle,” Call said. “Probably Crow. I’m told the Crow are peaceful.” “Did you find Gus?” Dish asked. “Pea can’t talk about nothing else.” “I found him. He’s dead,” Call said.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The coolness of the air seemed to improve the men’s eyesight—they fell to speculating about how many miles they could see. The plains stretched north before them. They saw plenty of game, mainly deer and antelope. Once they saw a large herd of elk, and twice small groups of buffalo. They saw no more bears, but bears were seldom far from then-thoughts.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
July now lived in a little room attached to the saddle shed. It wouldn’t do when winter came, but for summer it was all right. He had never felt comfortable in the house with Clara and the girls, and since Lorena had come he felt even more uncomfortable. Lorena seldom spoke to him, and Clara mainly discussed horses, or other ranch problems, yet he felt nervous in their company. Day to day, he felt it was wrong to have taken the job with Clara. Sometimes he felt a strong longing to be back in his old job in Fort Smith, even if Roscoe was no longer alive to be his deputy.
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Unlike the girls, Clara seldom asked her any questions. Lorena came to wish that she would. For a while she had an urge to apologize to Clara for not having always been able to be a lady. It still seemed to her a miracle that she had been allowed to stay in Clara’s house and be one of the family. She looked for it to go bad in some way, but it didn’t go bad.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The discussions around the campfire began to focus mainly on storms. Many of the hands had experienced plains northers and the occasional ice storm, but they were south Texas cowhands and had seldom seen snow. A few talked of loping over to the mountains to examine the snow at close range and see what it was like.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Yet when it had been simple, she had always worried that Gus didn’t want it. Maybe he was just being kind. She didn’t know—didn’t know what things meant, or didn’t mean. She had never expected to find, in the whole world, a place where someone would ask her to stay—even in her dreams of San Francisco no one had ever asked her to stay. She had seldom even spoken to a woman in her years in Lonesome Dove, and had no expectation that one would speak to her.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Lorena looked at Gus. He seemed flustered, and he seldom was flustered. She thought he might be bothered by the thought of her staying.
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“Well, what do I want with it?” Augustus asked. He had seldom held a baby in his arms and was somewhat discommoded.
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The girls were disappointed at that turn of events. They seldom had company and wanted a better look at the men.
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Reading stories by all the women, not only George Eliot, but Mrs. Gore and Mrs. Gaskell and Charlotte Yonge, she sometimes had a longing to do what those women did—write stories. But those women lived in cities or towns and had many friends and relatives nearby. It discouraged her to look out the window at the empty plains and reflect that even if she had the eloquence to write, and the time, she had nothing to write about. With Maude Jones dead, she seldom saw another woman, and had no relatives near except her husband and her children. There was an aunt in Cincinnati, but they only exchanged letters once or twice a year. Her characters would have to be the horses and the hens, if she ever wrote, for the menfolk that came by weren’t interesting enough to put in books, it seemed to her. None of them were capable of the kind of talk men managed in English novels.
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The ladies’ magazines had stories and parts of novels in them, in many of which were ladies who led lives so different from hers that she felt she might as well be on another planet. She liked Thackeray’s ladies better than Dickens’s, andGeorge Eliot’s best of all—but it was a frustration that the mail came so seldom. Sometimes she would have to wait for two or three months for her Blackwoods, wondering all the time what was happening to the people in the stories.
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“Oh, shush,” Clara said. “The sun’s just been up five minutes.” She reflected that perhaps that was what she had held back—she had never become proficient at early rising, despite all the practice she’d had. She had got up dutifully and made breakfast for Bob and whatever hands happened to be there, but she was not at her best, and the breakfasts seldom arrived on the table in the orderly fashion that Bob expected. It was a relief to her when he went away on horse-trading expeditions and she could sleep late, or just lie in bed thinking and reading the magazines she ordered from the East or from England.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The winter before she had bought Cholo a buffalo coat, an action which shocked Bob. He had never heard of a married woman buying a Mexican cowboy an expensive coat. Then there was the piano. She had ordered that too, although it cost two hundred dollars and another forty to transport. And yet he had to admit he loved to see his girls sitting at the piano, trying to learn their fingering. And the buffalo coat had saved Cholo’s life when he was trapped in an April blizzard up on the Dismal River, Clara got her way, and her way often turned out to make sense—and yet Bob more and more felt that her way skipped him, somehow. She didn’t neglect him in any way that he could put his finger on, and the girls loved him, but there were many times when he felt left out of the life of his own family. He would never have said that to Clara—he was not good with words, and seldom spoke unless he was spoken to, unless it was about business. Watching his wife, he often felt lonely. Clara seemed to sense it and would usually come and try to be especially nice to him, or to get him laughing at something the girls had done—and yet he still felt lonely, even in their bed.
前一个冬天，她给乔洛买了一件水牛外套，这一举动震惊了鲍勃。他从未听说过一个已婚女人给墨西哥牛仔买昂贵的外套。然后是钢琴。她也订购了，尽管运输费用为200美元和40美元。然而，他不得不承认，他喜欢看到他的女儿们坐在钢琴前，试图学习她们的指法。当乔洛被困在迪马尔河上的四月暴风雪中时，水牛外套救了他的命，克拉拉如愿以偿，她的方式往往被证明是有道理的——然而鲍勃越来越觉得她的方式不知怎么地跳过了他。她没有以任何他能理解的方式忽视他，女孩们也爱他，但很多时候，他觉得自己被排除在自己家庭的生活之外。他永远不会对克拉拉这么说——他不善言辞，除非有人跟他说话，除非是关于生意，否则很少说话。看着妻子，他经常感到孤独。克拉拉似乎感觉到了，通常会来试着对他特别好，或者让他嘲笑女孩们做的事情——但他仍然感到孤独，即使在他们的床上。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I thought I told you girls to churn,” Clara said. “Seems like all you do is hang out the window watching for travelers.” Of course, no one could blame them, for company was rare. They lived twenty miles from town, and a bad town at that—Ogallala. If they went in, it was usually for church, but they seldom made the trip. Their company mostly consisted of men who came to trade horses with Bob, her husband, and now that he was injured, few came. They had just as many horses—more, in fact—and Clara knew more about them than Bob had ever learned, but there were few men disposed to bargain with a woman, and Clara was not disposed to give their horses away. When she named a price she meant it, but usually men got their backs up and wouldn’t buy.
克拉拉说：“我不是告诉过你们这些女孩要跳槽吧。”。“看来你所做的就是挂在窗户外看旅行者。”当然，没有人能责怪他们，因为陪伴很少。他们住在离城镇二十英里的地方，那是一个糟糕的城镇——奥加拉拉。如果他们进去，通常是去教堂，但他们很少去。他们的公司主要由来和她的丈夫鲍勃交换马匹的人组成，现在他受伤了，很少有人来。他们有同样多的马——事实上，更多的马——克拉拉对他们的了解比鲍勃所了解的还要多，但很少有男人愿意和女人讨价还价，克拉拉也不愿意把他们的马送人。当她说出价格时，她是认真的，但通常男人都会支持，不会买。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“No, I seldom drink,” July said. “Though I do like toddy in the winter.”Jennie looked at him a while. “You ought to stop worrying about Ellie, mister,” she said. “No man’s ever been able to stop Ellie for long, not even Dee.” “She married me,” July said. He felt he had to insist on that point.
“不，我很少喝酒，”七月说。“虽然我确实喜欢冬天的托德。”珍妮看了他一会儿。“先生，你应该停止担心艾莉，”她说。“从来没有人能阻止艾莉很久，即使是迪伊。”“她嫁给了我，”七月说。他觉得他必须坚持这一点。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
After watching the loading for a while he went back to the saloon where the woman named Jennie was said to work. He inquired for her at the bar, and the bartender, a skinny runt, said she was busy and asked if he wanted a whiskey. July seldom drank whiskey but he said yes, to be courteous, mainly. If he was taking up space in a bar he ought to pay for it, he figured. So he took the whiskey and sipped it until it was gone, and then took another. Soon he was feeling heavy, as if it would be difficult to walk fast if he had to, but in fact he didn’t have to. Women came and went in the saloon, but the bartender who poured the whiskeys kept assuring him that Jennie would be down any minute. July kept drinking. It seemed to him that he was taking on weight in a hurry. He felt that just getting out of his chair would be more than he could do, he felt so heavy.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The Suggs brothers kept plenty of whiskey on hand, and Jake began to avail himself of it. He stayed half drunk most of the time as they rode north. Even though he had killed a man in plain sight of them, the Suggses didn’t treat him with any new respect. Of course, they didn’t offer one another much respect either. Dan and Roy both poured scorn on little Eddie if he slipped up in his chores or made a remark they disagreed with. The only man of the company who escaped their scorn was Frog Lip—they seldom spoke to him, and he seldom spoke, but everyone knew he was there.
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“Them punkin’ rollers,” Dan Suggs said contemptuously. “If they was to follow we’d thin them out in a hurry.” Jake fell into a gloom—it seemed he could do nothing right. He hardly asked for more in life than a clean saloon to gamble in and a pretty whore to sleep with, that and a little whiskey to drink. He had no desire to be shooting people—evenduring his years in the Rangers he seldom actually drew aim at anyone, although he cheerfully threw off shots in the direction of the enemy. He certainly didn’t consider himself a killer: in battle, Call and Gus were capable of killing ten to his one.
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In the dawn the Blue Mounds shimmered to the north. Augustus usually came out of the tent early so he could see the sunrise. Lorena had stopped having so many nightmares and she slept heavily, so heavily that it was hard to get her awake in the mornings. Augustus never rushed her. She had regained her appetite and put on flesh, and it seemed to him her sleeping late was healthy. The grass was wet with dew, so he sat on his saddle blanket watching Dish Boggett point the cattle into the blue distances. Dish always swung the point as close to the tent as he dared, hoping for a glimpse of Lorena, but it was a hope seldom rewarded.
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“If you had two, I wish you’d brought two,” Augustus said. “I need to get back in practice drinking.” “Well, if we don’t get across that goddamn river tomorrow, I’ll see if I can rustle up another one,” Wilbarger said, standing up. “I seldom get conversation like yours. I can’t figure out if I like it or not, but I will admit it’s conversation, which is more than can be had in my camp.” He mounted his horse and was about to ride away.
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“Don’t give none of them to me,” Pea Eye said. “They’re too sad. I’ll get them nervous dreams.” “If you hear them, they belong to you,” Po said. It was hard to see his eyes. They were deep-set anyway, and he seldom took his big-brimmed hat off.
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Blue Duck was the only man of the bunch who seemed to take no interest in her. He had stolen her to sell, and he had sold her. It was clear that he didn’t care what they did to her. When he was in camp he spent his time cleaning his gun or smoking and seldom even looked her way. Monkey John was bad, but Blue Duck still scared her more. His cold, empty eyes frightened her more than Monkey John’s anger or Dog Face’s craziness. Blue Duck had scared the talk completely out of her. She had never been much for talk, but her silence in the camp was different from her old silence. In Lonesome Dove she had often hidden her words, but she could find them if she needed them; she had brought them out quick enough when Jake came along.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
He remembered when he had first come to the high plains, years before. For two days he and Call and the Rangers had ridden parallel to the great southern buffalo herd—hundreds of thousands of animals, slowly grazing north. It had been difficult to sleep at night because the horses were nervous around so many animals, and the sounds of the herd were constant. They had ridden for nearly a hundred miles and seldom been out of sight of buffalo.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
He wore a long buffalo coat and seldom took it off, even when the days were hot.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇