词汇：eight

num. 八个；八；第八

相关场景

“I wish now we’d never traded,” Ben Rainey said. “I never thought anything would happen.” That night there was much discussion of the dangers of handling cattle. Everyone agreed there were dangers, but no one had ever heard of a small cow hooking a horse under the girth before and killing it. Newt traded shifts with the Irishman and then traded again with his replacement, four hours later. He wanted to be in the dark, where people couldn’t see him cry. Mouse had never behaved like other horses, and now he had even found a unique way to die. Newt had had him for eight years and felt his loss so keenly that for the first time on the drive he wished it wouldn’t get light so soon.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Yes,” July said. “I guess it was accidental, but I’ve got to take him back. Only I’d like to find Elmira first.” They rode in silence for seven or eight miles over broken country. Augustus was thinking what a curious man Jake Spoon was, that he would let a woman be stolen and just go on playing cards, or whatever he was doing.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“We’re from Missouri,” she said. “We’re going west and I guess we’ll stop when we feel like it. We’ve got fourteen young ’uns and are hoping to establish a farm.” Eight or nine of the young ones were riding in the wagon. They stared at Roscoe and Janey, as silent as owls.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Joe himself was happy enough to be gone from Fort Smith, though he missed Roscoe somewhat. Otherwise he took a lively interest in the sights along the way, though for a while the sights consisted mostly of trees. Gradually they began to get out into more open country. One day, to his delight, they surprised a small bunch of buffalo, only eight animals. The buffalo ran off, and he and July raced after them for a while to get a better look. After a couple of miles they came to a little river and they stopped to watch the buffalo cross. Even July forgot his gloom for a few minutes at the sight of the big, dusty animals.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I gave twenty-eight skunk hides for her,” the old man said suddenly. “You got any whiskey?” In fact, Roscoe did have a bottle that he had bought off the soldiers. He could already smell frying meat—the possum, no doubt—and his appetite came back. He had nothing in his stomach and could think of little he would rather eat than a nice piece of fried possum. Around Fort Smith the Negroes kept the possums thinned out; they were seldom available on the tables of white folks.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Call, you ought to have married and had six or eight kids,” Augustus remarked. If he couldn’t get anywhere with one subject he liked to move on to another. Call’s spirits hadn’t improved much. When he was low it was hard to get him to talk.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
I’ve had six boys in all but not a one of ’em stayed around. Had two girls but they both died. That’s eight children. I always meant to have ten but I’ve got two to go and time’s running out.” She munched her corn bread for a while. She seemed to be amused, though Roscoe couldn’t figure out what might be amusing.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Roscoe, you’re invited to supper,” she said, before he could make up his mind to go. “I bet you can eat better than you chop.” “Oh, I ought to get on after July,” Roscoe said, halfheartedly. “His wife run off.” “I meant to run off, before Jim went and died,” Louisa said. “If I had, I wouldn’t have had to bury him. Jim was fat. I had to hitch a mule to him to drag him out of the house. Spent all day pulling up stumps and then had to work half the nightplanting a husband. How old are you getting to be?” “Why, forty-eight, I guess,” Roscoe said, surprised to be asked.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Pea handed the boy down to Dish and Deets. Call quickly took his slicker off his saddle and they laid the boy on it. His eyes were closed, his body jerking slightly. Augustus cut the boy’s shirt off—there were eight sets of fang marks, including one on his neck.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
His deputy, Roscoe Brown—forty-eight years of age to July’s twenty-four—assured him cheerfully that the increase in trouble was something he had better get used to.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“He sings too sad,” Needle Nelson said, for the sound of Sean’s voice affected him as it had Newt. It brought to mind his mother, who had died when he was eight, and also a little sister he had been fond of, who had succumbed to a fever when only four.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Pedro Flores was a far cry from being the fighter Kicking Wolf had been. Pedro seldom rode without twenty or thirty vaqueros to back him up, whereas Kicking Wolf, a small man no bigger than the boy, would raid San Antonio with five or six braves and manage to carry off three women and scare all the whites out of seven or eight counties just by traveling through them. But Pedro was of the same time, and had occupied them just as long.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Still, she and Joe had managed to produce an even dozen children so far, eight of them boys and all of them strapping.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The widow Spettle had a brood of eight children, Bill and Pete being the oldest. Ned Spettle, the father of them all, had died of drink two years before. It looked to Call as if the family was about to starve out. They had a little creek-bottom farm not far north of Pickles Gap, but the soil was poor and the family had little to eat but sowbelly and beans. The widow Spettle, however, was eager for him to take the boys, and would hear no protest from Call. She was a thin woman with bitter eyes. Call had heard from someone that she had been raised rich, in the East, with servants to comb her hair and help her into her shoes when she got up. It might just have been a story—it was hard for him to imagine a grownup who would need to be helped into their own shoes—but if even part of it was true she had come a long way down. Ned Spettle had never got around to putting a floor in the shack of a house he built. His wife was rearing eight children on the bare dirt. He had heard it said that Ned had never got over the war, which might have explained it. Plenty hadn’t. It accounted for the shortage of grown men of a certain age, that war. Call himself felt a kind of guilt at having missed it, though the work he and Gus had done on the border had been just as dangerous, and just as necessary.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
There was a washtub sitting on the back porch. Lorena carried it up when she needed a bath, and the six or eight buckets of water it took to fill it. Xavier used it more often than she did. He could tolerate dirt on his customers, but not on himself. Lippy gave no thought to baths so far as anyone knew.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Instead of being bareback the Irishmen were riding big silver-studded Mexican saddles and driving eight or ten skinny horses before them. When they reached the porch they just sat on their horses, looking unhappy.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Is that your last word on the subject?” Wilbarger asked. “I’m offering thirty-eight for one. You won’t get a chance like that every day of your life.” Dish snorted. He fancied the gray mare himself. “It’d be like tradin’ a fifty-dollar gold piece for thirty-eight nickels,” he said. He was in a foul temper anyway. The minute they had the horses penned, Jake Spoon had unsaddled and walked straight to the Dry Bean, as if that were where he lived.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Good morning,” he said. “Let’s trade. You keep them thirty-eight splendid horses I just sorted out and I’ll take that mean creature you’re astraddle of. Thirty-eight for one is generous terms, in my book.” “Keep your book,” Call said, not surprised at the offer.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Go catch two horses,” he said. “You better make hackamores.” Newt was so surprised by the assignment he almost dropped the rope. He had never roped a horse in the dark before—but he would have to try. He trotted off toward the horse herd, sure they would probably stampede at the sight of him. But he had a piece of luck. Six or eight horses trotted over to sniff at his mount and he easily caught one of them.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
On an average day, Lorena occupied Newt’s thoughts about eight hours, no matter what tasks occupied his hands.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The 14-- I've heard anywhere from an eight to 20 as being the normal range for most people.
>> Fart: A Documentary Movie Script
Eight wants tea.
>> 倾城佳话 It Could Happen to You (1994) Movie Script
Look at us, we sell eight hamburgers a week and a case of soda pop, and once in a while, a Navajo rug maybe.
>> 倒扣的王牌 Ace in the Hole (1951) Movie Script
Him and eight million other guys.
>> 倒扣的王牌 Ace in the Hole (1951) Movie Script
No beautiful roar from eight million ants, fighting, cursing, loving.
>> 倒扣的王牌 Ace in the Hole (1951) Movie Script