The Time Machine — EN

The Palace of Green Porcelain

“I found the Palace of Green Porce­lain, when we approached it about noon, desert­ed and falling into ruin. Only ragged ves­tiges of glass remained in its win­dows, and great sheets of the green fac­ing had fall­en away from the cor­rod­ed metal­lic frame­work. It lay very high upon a turfy down, and look­ing north-east­ward before I entered it, I was sur­prised to see a large estu­ary, or even creek, where I judged Wandsworth and Bat­tersea must once have been. I thought then – though I nev­er fol­lowed up the thought – of what might have hap­pened, or might be hap­pen­ing, to the liv­ing things in the sea.

“The mate­r­i­al of the Palace proved on exam­i­na­tion to be indeed porce­lain, and along the face of it I saw an inscrip­tion in some unknown char­ac­ter. I thought, rather fool­ish­ly, that Weena might help me to inter­pret this, but I only learned that the bare idea of writ­ing had nev­er entered her head. She always seemed to me, I fan­cy, more human than she was, per­haps because her affec­tion was so human.

“With­in the big valves of the door – which were open and bro­ken – we found, instead of the cus­tom­ary hall, a long gallery lit by many side win­dows. At the first glance I was remind­ed of a muse­um. The tiled floor was thick with dust, and a remark­able array of mis­cel­la­neous objects was shroud­ed in the same grey cov­er­ing. Then I per­ceived, stand­ing strange and gaunt in the cen­tre of the hall, what was clear­ly the low­er part of a huge skele­ton. I rec­og­nized by the oblique feet that it was some extinct crea­ture after the fash­ion of the Megath­eri­um. The skull and the upper bones lay beside it in the thick dust, and in one place, where rain-water had dropped through a leak in the roof, the thing itself had been worn away. Fur­ther in the gallery was the huge skele­ton bar­rel of a Bron­tosaurus. My muse­um hypoth­e­sis was con­firmed. Going towards the side I found what appeared to be slop­ing shelves, and clear­ing away the thick dust, I found the old famil­iar glass cas­es of our own time. But they must have been air-tight to judge from the fair preser­va­tion of some of their contents.

“Clear­ly we stood among the ruins of some lat­ter-day South Kens­ing­ton! Here, appar­ent­ly, was the Palaeon­to­log­i­cal Sec­tion, and a very splen­did array of fos­sils it must have been, though the inevitable process of decay that had been staved off for a time, and had, through the extinc­tion of bac­te­ria and fun­gi, lost nine­ty-nine hun­dredths of its force, was nev­er­the­less, with extreme sure­ness if with extreme slow­ness at work again upon all its trea­sures. Here and there I found traces of the lit­tle peo­ple in the shape of rare fos­sils bro­ken to pieces or thread­ed in strings upon reeds. And the cas­es had in some instances been bod­i­ly removed – by the Mor­locks as I judged. The place was very silent. The thick dust dead­ened our foot­steps. Weena, who had been rolling a sea urchin down the slop­ing glass of a case, present­ly came, as I stared about me, and very qui­et­ly took my hand and stood beside me.

“And at first I was so much sur­prised by this ancient mon­u­ment of an intel­lec­tu­al age, that I gave no thought to the pos­si­bil­i­ties it pre­sent­ed. Even my pre­oc­cu­pa­tion about the Time Machine reced­ed a lit­tle from my mind.

“To judge from the size of the place, this Palace of Green Porce­lain had a great deal more in it than a Gallery of Palaeon­tol­ogy; pos­si­bly his­tor­i­cal gal­leries; it might be, even a library! To me, at least in my present cir­cum­stances, these would be vast­ly more inter­est­ing than this spec­ta­cle of old­time geol­o­gy in decay. Explor­ing, I found anoth­er short gallery run­ning trans­verse­ly to the first. This appeared to be devot­ed to min­er­als, and the sight of a block of sul­phur set my mind run­ning on gun­pow­der. But I could find no salt­peter; indeed, no nitrates of any kind. Doubt­less they had del­i­quesced ages ago. Yet the sul­phur hung in my mind, and set up a train of think­ing. As for the rest of the con­tents of that gallery, though on the whole they were the best pre­served of all I saw, I had lit­tle inter­est. I am no spe­cial­ist in min­er­al­o­gy, and I went on down a very ruinous aisle run­ning par­al­lel to the first hall I had entered. Appar­ent­ly this sec­tion had been devot­ed to nat­ur­al his­to­ry, but every­thing had long since passed out of recog­ni­tion. A few shriv­elled and black­ened ves­tiges of what had once been stuffed ani­mals, des­ic­cat­ed mum­mies in jars that had once held spir­it, a brown dust of depart­ed plants: that was all! I was sor­ry for that, because I should have been glad to trace the patent read­just­ments by which the con­quest of ani­mat­ed nature had been attained. Then we came to a gallery of sim­ply colos­sal pro­por­tions, but sin­gu­lar­ly ill-lit, the floor of it run­ning down­ward at a slight angle from the end at which I entered. At inter­vals white globes hung from the ceil­ing – many of them cracked and smashed – which sug­gest­ed that orig­i­nal­ly the place had been arti­fi­cial­ly lit. Here I was more in my ele­ment, for ris­ing on either side of me were the huge bulks of big machines, all great­ly cor­rod­ed and many bro­ken down, but some still fair­ly com­plete. You know I have a cer­tain weak­ness for mech­a­nism, and I was inclined to linger among these; the more so as for the most part they had the inter­est of puz­zles, and I could make only the vaguest guess­es at what they were for. I fan­cied that if I could solve their puz­zles I should find myself in pos­ses­sion of pow­ers that might be of use against the Morlocks.

“Sud­den­ly Weena came very close to my side. So sud­den­ly that she star­tled me. Had it not been for her I do not think I should have noticed that the floor of the gallery sloped at all. The end I had come in at was quite above ground, and was lit by rare slit-like win­dows. As you went down the length, the ground came up against these win­dows, until at last* there was a pit like the “area” of a Lon­don house before each, and only a nar­row line of day­light at the top. I went slow­ly along, puz­zling about the machines, and had been too intent upon them to notice the grad­ual diminu­tion of the light, until Weena’s increas­ing appre­hen­sions drew my atten­tion. Then I saw that the gallery ran down at last into a thick dark­ness. I hes­i­tat­ed, and then, as I looked round me, I saw that the dust was less abun­dant and its sur­face less even. Fur­ther away towards the dim­ness, it appeared to be bro­ken by a num­ber of small nar­row foot­prints. My sense of the imme­di­ate pres­ence of the Mor­locks revived at that. I felt that I was wast­ing my time in the aca­d­e­m­ic exam­i­na­tion of machin­ery. I called to mind that it was already far advanced in the after­noon, and that I had still no weapon, no refuge, and no means of mak­ing a fire. And then down in the remote black­ness of the gallery I heard a pecu­liar pat­ter­ing, and the same odd nois­es I had heard down the well.

*It may be, of course, that the floor did not slope, but that the muse­um was built into the side of a hill. – ed.

“I took Weena’s hand. Then, struck with a sud­den idea, I left her and turned to a machine from which pro­ject­ed a lever not unlike those in a sig­nal-box. Clam­ber­ing upon the stand, and grasp­ing this lever in my hands, I put all my weight upon it side­ways. Sud­den­ly Weena, desert­ed in the cen­tral aisle, began to whim­per. I had judged the strength of the lever pret­ty cor­rect­ly, for it snapped after a minute’s strain, and I rejoined her with a mace in my hand more than suf­fi­cient, I judged, for any Mor­lock skull I might encounter. And I longed very much to kill a Mor­lock or so. Very inhu­man, you may think, to want to go killing one’s own descen­dants! But it was impos­si­ble, some­how, to feel any human­i­ty in the things. Only my dis­in­cli­na­tion to leave Weena, and a per­sua­sion that if I began to slake my thirst for mur­der my Time Machine might suf­fer, restrained me from going straight down the gallery and killing the brutes I heard.

“Well, mace in one hand and Weena in the oth­er, I went out of that gallery and into anoth­er and still larg­er one, which at the first glance remind­ed me of a mil­i­tary chapel hung with tat­tered flags. The brown and charred rags that hung from the sides of it, I present­ly rec­og­nized as the decay­ing ves­tiges of books.

They had long since dropped to pieces, and every sem­blance of print had left them. But here and there were warped boards and cracked metal­lic clasps that told the tale well enough. Had I been a lit­er­ary man I might, per­haps, have mor­al­ized upon the futil­i­ty of all ambi­tion. But as it was, the thing that struck me with keen­est force was the enor­mous waste of labour to which this som­bre wilder­ness of rot­ting paper tes­ti­fied. At the time I will con­fess that I thought chiefly of the Philo­soph­i­cal Trans­ac­tions and my own sev­en­teen papers upon phys­i­cal optics.

“Then, going up a broad stair­case, we came to what may once have been a gallery of tech­ni­cal chem­istry. And here I had not a lit­tle hope of use­ful dis­cov­er­ies. Except at one end where the roof had col­lapsed, this gallery was well pre­served. I went eager­ly to every unbro­ken case. And at last, in one of the real­ly air-tight cas­es, I found a box of match­es. Very eager­ly I tried them. They were per­fect­ly good. They were not even damp. I turned to Weena. “Dance,” I cried to her in her own tongue.

For now I had a weapon indeed against the hor­ri­ble crea­tures we feared. And so, in that derelict muse­um, upon the thick soft car­pet­ing of dust, to Weena’s huge delight, I solemn­ly per­formed a kind of com­pos­ite dance, whistling The Land of the Leal as cheer­ful­ly as I could. In part it was a mod­est can­can, in part a step dance, in part a skirt-dance (so far as my tail-coat per­mit­ted), and in part orig­i­nal. For I am nat­u­ral­ly inven­tive, as you know.

“Now, I still think that for this box of match­es to have escaped the wear of time for immemo­r­i­al years was a most strange, as for me it was a most for­tu­nate thing. Yet, odd­ly enough, I found a far unlike­li­er sub­stance, and that was cam­phor. I found it in a sealed jar, that by chance, I sup­pose, had been real­ly her­met­i­cal­ly sealed. I fan­cied at first that it was paraf­fin wax, and smashed the glass accord­ing­ly. But the odour of cam­phor was unmis­tak­able. In the uni­ver­sal decay this volatile sub­stance had chanced to sur­vive, per­haps through many thou­sands of cen­turies. It remind­ed me of a sepia paint­ing I had once seen done from the ink of a fos­sil Belem­nite that must have per­ished and become fos­silized mil­lions of years ago. I was about to throw it away, but I remem­bered that it was inflam­ma­ble and burned with a good bright flame – was, in fact, an excel­lent can­dle – and I put it in my pock­et. I found no explo­sives, how­ev­er, nor any means of break­ing down the bronze doors. As yet my iron crow­bar was the most help­ful thing I had chanced upon. Nev­er­the­less I left that gallery great­ly elat­ed.

“I can­not tell you all the sto­ry of that long after­noon. It would require a great effort of mem­o­ry to recall my explo­rations in at all the prop­er order. I remem­ber a long gallery of rust­ing stands of arms, and how I hes­i­tat­ed between my crow­bar and a hatch­et or a sword. I could not car­ry both, how­ev­er, and my bar of iron promised best against the bronze gates. There were num­bers of guns, pis­tols, and rifles. The most were mass­es of rust, but many were of some new met­al, and still fair­ly sound. But any car­tridges or pow­der there may once have been had rot­ted into dust. One cor­ner I saw was charred and shat­tered; per­haps, I thought, by an explo­sion among the spec­i­mens. In anoth­er place was a vast array of idols – Poly­ne­sian, Mex­i­can, Gre­cian, Phoeni­cian, every coun­try on earth I should think. And here, yield­ing to an irre­sistible impulse, I wrote my name upon the nose of a steatite mon­ster from South Amer­i­ca that par­tic­u­lar­ly took my fan­cy.

“As the evening drew on, my inter­est waned. I went through gallery after gallery, dusty, silent, often ruinous, the exhibits some­times mere heaps of rust and lig­nite, some­times fresh­er. In one place I sud­den­ly found myself near the mod­el of a tin-mine, and then by the mer­est acci­dent I dis­cov­ered, in an air-tight case, two dyna­mite car­tridges! I shout­ed “Eure­ka!” and smashed the case with joy. Then came a doubt. I hes­i­tat­ed. Then, select­ing a lit­tle side gallery, I made my essay. I nev­er felt such a dis­ap­point­ment as I did in wait­ing five, ten, fif­teen min­utes for an explo­sion that nev­er came. Of course the things were dum­mies, as I might have guessed from their pres­ence. I real­ly believe that had they not been so, I should have rushed off incon­ti­nent­ly and blown Sphinx, bronze doors, and (as it proved) my chances of find­ing the Time Machine, all togeth­er into nonexistence.

“It was after that, I think, that we came to a lit­tle open court with­in the palace. It was turfed, and had three fruit-trees. So we rest­ed and refreshed our­selves. Towards sun­set I began to con­sid­er our posi­tion. Night was creep­ing upon us, and my inac­ces­si­ble hid­ing-place had still to be found. But that trou­bled me very lit­tle now. I had in my pos­ses­sion a thing that was, per­haps, the best of all defences against the Mor­locks – I had match­es! I had the cam­phor in my pock­et, too, if a blaze were need­ed. It seemed to me that the best thing we could do would be to pass the night in the open, pro­tect­ed by a fire. In the morn­ing there was the get­ting of the Time Machine. Towards that, as yet, I had only my iron mace. But now, with my grow­ing knowl­edge, I felt very dif­fer­ent­ly towards those bronze doors. Up to this, I had refrained from forc­ing them, large­ly because of the mys­tery on the oth­er side. They had nev­er impressed me as being very strong, and I hoped to find my bar of iron not alto­geth­er inad­e­quate for the work.

porce­lain ˈpɔːsəlɪn n A hard shiny white sub­stance that is used for mak­ing expen­sive plates, cups etc: chi­na

to fall into ruin ⇒ To go rack and ruin.

ragged ˈrægɪd adv Torn or worn to tatters.

ves­tige ˈvɛstɪʤ n Rem­nant that indi­cates the for­mer pres­ence of some­thing: trace, remains

fac­ing ˈfeɪsɪŋ n An out­er coat­ing applied to a sur­face for pro­tec­tion or decoration.

cor­rode kəˈrəʊd v To con­sume grad­u­al­ly, as by chem­i­cal reac­tion, fric­tion, etc: wear, wear away, gnaw, erode, fret

turfy ˈtɜː­fi adj Of, cov­ered with, or resem­bling a sur­face that con­sists of soil with grass on top: sod­dy

down ⇒ An expanse of rolling, tree­less upland, grassy and with lit­tle soil.

estu­ary ˈɛstjʊəri n The part of the wide low­er course of a riv­er where its cur­rent is met by the tides.

creek kriːk n (British Eng­lish) A long nar­row area of water that flows from the sea into the land.

Wandsworth ⇒ A Lon­don bor­ough in south­west Lon­don, part of Inner London.

Bat­tersea ⇒ A dis­trict of South West Lon­don, Eng­land, with­in the Lon­don Bor­ough of Wandsworth. It is locat­ed on the south bank of the Riv­er Thames, 2.9 miles (4.7 km) south west of Char­ing Cross.

inscrip­tion ɪnˈskrɪpʃən n Some­thing inscribed, espe­cial­ly words carved or engraved on a coin, tomb, etc. 

char­ac­ter ˈkærɪk­tə n One of a set of sym­bols, such as let­ters or num­bers, that are arranged to express information.

some­thing has nev­er entered my head ⇒ some­thing has nev­er occurred to me.

valve vælv n Archa­ic Either half of a dou­ble door.

cus­tom­ary ˈkʌstəməri adj Com­mon­ly used or prac­tised: usu­al

at first glance ⇒ At first sight.

thick with dust ⇒ Cov­ered with a thick lay­er of dust.

array əˈreɪ n Things, peo­ple etc. arranged in some order.

mis­cel­la­neous ˌmɪsəˈleɪniəs adj Con­sist­ing of a num­ber of dif­fer­ent kinds: var­i­ous, sundry, mot­ley, mixed, varied

shroud ʃraʊd v To cut off from sight: close, hide, obstruct, screen, shut out

gaunt gɔːnt adj Hav­ing lit­tle flesh on the body: thin, lean, skin­ny, bony, lanky

skele­ton ˈskɛlɪtn n The inter­nal struc­ture com­posed of bone and car­ti­lage that pro­tects and sup­ports the soft organs, tis­sues, etc.

oblique əˈbliːk adj Angled at a slant: diag­o­nal, biased, slanted

extinct ɪksˈtɪŋkt adj No longer exist­ing; lost or espe­cial­ly hav­ing died out.

Megath­eri­um ⇒ A genus of ele­phant-sized ground sloths endem­ic to South Amer­i­ca, that lived from the Ear­ly Pliocene through the end of the Pleistocene.

leak liːk n An unin­tend­ed hole, crack, or the like, through which liq­uid, gas, light, etc., enters or escapes.

to wear away ⇒ To become bro­ken, thin etc. as the result of use.

bar­rel ˈbærəl (Zool­o­gy) The trunk of a four-legged animal.

Bron­tosaurus ⇒ A very large plant-eat­ing dinosaur com­mon in North Amer­i­ca in the late Jurassic.

South Kens­ing­ton ⇒ A dis­trict of West Lon­don in the Roy­al Bor­ough of Kens­ing­ton and Chelsea. With some of its east­er­ly areas shared with the City of West­min­ster, the dis­trict is known as a pop­u­lar tourist des­ti­na­tion due to its den­si­ty of muse­ums and cul­tur­al landmarks.

palaeon­to­log­i­cal ˈpælɪˌɒn­təˈlɒʤɪkəl adj Relat­ed to the sci­ence deal­ing with the life of past geo­log­i­cal peri­ods as known from fos­sil remains.

splen­did ˈsplɛndɪd adj Bril­liant or fine, esp in appear­ance: excel­lent, won­der­ful, marvellous

fos­sil ˈfɒsl n Rem­nant of an organ­ism of a past geo­log­ic age pre­served in the earth’s crust.

decay dɪˈkeɪ n Grad­ual dete­ri­o­ra­tion to an infe­ri­or state; a falling into ruin.

to stave off ⇒ To keep off, pre­serve; delay.

extinc­tion ɪksˈtɪŋkʃən n The fact of dying; utter destruc­tion: death, demise, decease; liq­ui­da­tion, anni­hi­la­tion, extermination

fun­gus ˈfʌŋgəs pl fun­gi ˈfʌŋ­gaɪ n Flower with­out leaves etc. grow­ing on oth­er plants or decay­ing matter. 

reed riːd n The straight stalk of tall grass­es, grow­ing in marshy places.

bod­i­ly ˈbɒdɪli adv As a whole: alto­geth­er

dead­en ˈdɛdn v To make less sen­si­tive, active, ener­getic, or forcible­to make less sen­si­tive, active, ener­getic, or forcible: weak­en

sea urchin ˈsiːˈɜːʧɪn n Any of var­i­ous organ­ism with a soft body enclosed in a round shell cov­ered with long spines.

to stare about ⇒ To look care­ful­ly about.

to give no thought to some­thing ⇒ Not to think about something

pre­oc­cu­pa­tion pri(ː)ˌɒkjʊˈpeɪʃən n An idea or sub­ject that some­one thinks about most of the time: pre­oc­cu­pan­cy, absorp­tion, engrossment

to recede from one’s mind ⇒ To become fainter; recede ri(ː)ˈsiːd v To move away gradually.

palaeon­tol­ogy ˌpælɪɒnˈtɒləʤi n The study of fos­sils to deter­mine the struc­ture and evo­lu­tion of extinct ani­mals and plants and the age and con­di­tions of depo­si­tion of the rock stra­ta in which they are found.

spec­ta­cle ˈspɛk­təkl n A very impres­sive show or scene.

trans­verse ˈtrænzvɜːs adj Sit­u­at­ed or lying across: cross­wise

sul­phur ˈsʌlfə n Pale yel­low non­metal­lic ele­ment occur­ring wide­ly in nature, used in pro­duc­tion of gunpowder.

to set one’s. mind run­ning on some­thing ⇒ To start think­ing about some­thing intensively.

gun­pow­der ˈgʌnˌ­paʊdə n Any of var­i­ous explo­sive pow­ders used to pro­pel pro­jec­tiles from guns, espe­cial­ly a black mix­ture of potas­si­um nitrate, char­coal, and sulphur.

salt­peter ˈsɔːltˌpiːtə n Potas­si­um nitrate, trans­par­ent white crys­talline com­pound used in the man­u­fac­ture of explo­sives, match­es, fer­til­iz­ers etc.

nitrate ˈnaɪtreɪt n A chem­i­cal that includes nitro­gen and oxy­gen, often used as a a sub­stance that helps plants grow.

del­i­quesce ˌdɛlɪˈk­wɛs v To melt away.

a thought hangs in my mind ⇒ A thought doesn’t leave my mind.

to set up a train of think­ing ⇒ To pro­voke a lot of think­ing about.

aisle aɪl n Pas­sage­way between rows of seats.

shriv­el ˈʃrɪvl v Decrease in size, as with a loss of mois­ture: shriv­el up, shrink, wither

ves­tige ˈvɛstɪʤ n Rem­nant that indi­cates the for­mer pres­ence of some­thing: trace, remains

des­ic­cat­ed ˈdɛsɪkeɪtɪd v Com­plete­ly dried out.

mum­my ˈmʌ­mi n A body embalmed and dried and wrapped for burial.

read­just­ment ˌriːəˈʤʌst­mənt n A change that you make to it so that it is more effec­tive or appropriate.

con­quest ˈkɒŋk­wɛst v Suc­cess in mas­ter­ing some­thing dif­fi­cult: suc­cess, con­quer­ing, triumph

attain əˈteɪn v To gain as an objec­tive: achieve

sin­gu­lar­ly ˈsɪŋgjʊləli adv In a way that is very notice­able or unusual.

smash smæʃ v To break some­thing into pieces sud­den­ly, nois­i­ly, and violently.

to be in one’s ele­ment ⇒ To be in suit­able, pre­ferred etc. surroundings.

cor­rode kəˈrəʊd v To con­sume grad­u­al­ly, as by chem­i­cal reac­tion, fric­tion, etc: wear, wear away, gnaw, erode, fret

to incline to do some­thing ⇒ To have a ten­den­cy to do something

linger ˈlɪŋgə v To stay in a place or be slow in leav­ing it, often out of reluc­tance: stay, remain

the more so ⇒ Used to say why some­thing (such as an attribute or qual­i­ty) applies to a greater degree or extent.

vague veɪg adj Not clear­ly per­cep­ti­ble: faint, dim, obscure, hazy, misty, bleary, cloudy, unclear

star­tle ˈstɑːtl v To sur­prise or fright­en some­one sud­den­ly but not seri­ous­ly: fright­en, scare, ter­ri­fy, alarm

Had it not been for her ⇒ If it hadn’t been for her.

at all ⇒ in any way; for any rea­son; to any extent; whatever.

slit slɪt n A long straight cut or opening.

at last ⇒ After a long wait; finally.

pit pɪt n Nat­ur­al or arti­fi­cial hole in the ground; a con­cealed hole in the ground used as a trap; the ground floor of a the­ater behind the stalls.

to go along ⇒ To proceed.

to be intent on doing some­thing ⇒ To show seri­ous and con­stant desire or attention.

diminu­tion ˌdɪmɪˈn­juːʃən n The process of decreas­ing: reduc­tion, decre­ment, diminishment

appre­hen­sion ˌæprɪˈhɛnʃ(ə)n n Fear that some­thing bad or unpleas­ant is going to happen.

revive rɪˈ­vaɪv v Give new life or ener­gy to or restore from a depressed, inac­tive, or unused state.

to call to mind ⇒ To remind.

pecu­liar pɪˈkjuːliə adj Not usu­al or normal.

pat­ter ˈpætə v To speak or chat­ter glibly and rapidly.

struck with a sud­den idea ⇒ An idea dawned upon me suddenly.

lever ˈliːvə n Pro­ject­ing han­dle used to adjust or oper­ate a mechanism.

sig­nal-box ˈsɪgn­lˈbɒks n Cab­in from which sig­nals are giv­en out to con­trol the move­ments of rail­way trains.

clam­ber ˈklæm­bə v To climb or crawl in an awk­ward way.

side­ways ˈsaɪd­weɪz adv Toward one side: side­way, sidewise

whim­per ˈwɪm­pə v To cry with soft, inter­mit­tent sounds: whine, pule

snap snæp v Break sud­den­ly and abrupt­ly, as under ten­sion: crack

rejoin rɪˈʤɔɪn v To go back to a group of peo­ple, orga­ni­za­tion etc that you were with before.

mace meɪs n Met­al war club, often with spikes.

or so ⇒ (of quan­ti­ties) Impre­cise but fair­ly close to.

descen­dant dɪˈsɛndənt n A per­son con­sid­ered as descend­ed from some ances­tor or race: off­spring, scion

dis­in­cli­na­tion ˌdɪsɪn­klɪˈneɪʃən n A feel­ing that you do not want to do some­thing: reluc­tance, indisposition

per­sua­sion pəˈsweɪʒən n He act of con­vinc­ing some­one to do something.

slake sleɪk v To sat­is­fy; quench.

restrain rɪsˈtreɪn v To stop some­one from doing some­thing, often by using phys­i­cal force.

brute bruːt n Sav­age ani­mal: beast

chapel ˈʃæpəl n Place of wor­ship in an insti­tu­tion, such as a prison, etc.

tat­tered ˈtætəd adj Worn or with hang­ing pieces of cloth.

char ʧɑː v To burn the sur­face of: scorch

rag ræg A small piece of cloth: shred, tat­ter

decay dɪˈkeɪ v To be slow­ly destroyed or bro­ken down by nat­ur­al process­es: rot­ten

ves­tige ˈvɛstɪʤ n A small part or amount of some­thing that remains when most of it no longer exists: trace, tinc­ture, shadow

sem­blance ˈsɛm­bləns n Like­ness, image, or copy: touch, sug­ges­tion, trace, hint, tinge

warped wɔːpt v Bent out of shape usu­al­ly by moisture.

clasp klɑːsp n Device for fas­ten­ing: catch, hook, fastener

mor­al­ize ˈmɒrəlaɪz v To tell oth­er peo­ple your ideas about right and wrong behav­iour, espe­cial­ly when they have not asked for your opinion.

futil­i­ty fju(ː)ˈtɪlɪti n Lack of effec­tive­ness or suc­cess: use­less­ness, inef­fec­tive­ness, pointlessnes

som­bre ˈsɒm­bə adj Dark or dull in colour.

rot rɒtv To decay by a grad­ual nat­ur­al process, or to make some­thing do this: decay, degen­er­ate, decompose

at the time ⇒ At a par­tic­u­lar moment in the past; then.

Philo­soph­i­cal Trans­ac­tions ⇒ A well-known sci­en­tif­ic jour­nal backed by Unit­ed Kingdom.

to go up ⇒ To climb up.

damp dæmp adj Slight­ly wet, as from dew, steam, etc.

derelict ˈdɛrɪlɪkt adj Hav­ing been left alone: aban­doned, desert­ed, forsaken

solemn­ly ˈsɒləm­li adj Seri­ous­ly and with­out any humour.

com­pos­ite ˈkɒm­pəzɪt adj Con­sist­ing of sep­a­rate inter­con­nect­ed parts.

whis­tle ˈwɪsl v To make a high or musi­cal sound by blow­ing air out through your lips.

Land o’ the Leal ⇒ A sco­tish song from a poem. An hypo­thet­i­cal land of hap­pi­ness, loy­al­ty, and virtue. Car­o­line Oliphant, Baroness Nairne, meant heav­en in her exquis­ite song so called, and this is now its accept­ed mean­ing; leal liːl adj Faith­ful, h Hon­est, loyal.

can­can ˈkænkæn A high-kick­ing dance of French ori­gin per­formed by a female cho­rus line.

in part ⇒ To some extent or degree.

tail-coat ˈteɪlˈkəʊt n For­mal­wear con­sist­ing of full evening dress for men,

inven­tive ɪnˈvɛn­tɪv adj Apt at invent­ing, devis­ing, or con­triv­ing and cre­at­ing with the imagination.

to escape the wear of time ⇒ To avoid the effect of time.

immemo­r­i­al ˌɪmɪˈmɔːrɪəl adj Start­ing longer ago than peo­ple can remem­ber, or than writ­ten his­to­ry shows.

cam­phor ˈkæm­fə n Strong­ly scent­ed Whitish sub­stance with a strong, aro­mat­ic odor used in var­i­ous med­ical and indus­tri­al pur­pos­es. It is found in wood of the Cam­phor lau­rel, a large ever­green tree found in Asia.

by chance ⇒ Unex­pect­ed­ly and not planned.

her­met­i­cal­ly hɜːˈmɛtɪkəli adv In an air­tight manner.

paraf­fin ˈpærəfɪn n A soft white sub­stance used for mak­ing can­dles, made from petro­le­um or coal.

smash smæʃ v To break some­thing into pieces sud­den­ly, nois­i­ly, and violently.

accord­ing­ly əˈkɔːdɪŋli adv So; consequently.

volatile ˈvɒlə­taɪl adj Chem­istry evap­o­rat­ing read­i­ly at nor­mal tem­per­a­tures and pressures.

sepia ˈsiːpiə adj Of the dark brown colour.

belem­nite ˈbɛləmˌ­naɪt n Extinct cephalopods espe­cial­ly abun­dant in the Meso­zoic era that had inter­nal shells and that super­fi­cial­ly resem­bled and are regard­ed as ances­tors of the squids.

per­ish ˈpɛrɪʃ v To cease liv­ing: die, pass away, expire

fos­silize ˈfɒsɪlaɪz v To turn into a fos­sil (the hard­ened rem­nants of an ani­mal or plant found in a rock).

to be about to do some­thing ⇒ To be ready to; to be going to do something

inflam­ma­ble ɪnˈflæməbl v Eas­i­ly ignit­ed and capa­ble of burn­ing rapidly.

to break some­thing down ⇒ To knock, hit some­thing to the ground.

crow­bar ˈkrəʊbɑː n Straight bar of iron with the work­ing end shaped like a chisel.

elate ɪˈleɪt v To raise the spir­its of: lift, inspire, ele­vate, ani­mate, cheer, exhilarate

rust rʌst v To become corroded.

hatch­et ˈhæʧɪt n A small, short-han­dled axe for use in one hand: axe, machete, tom­a­hawk, cleaver

rifle ˈraɪfl n A long gun which you hold up to your shoul­der to shoot.

rust rʌst n A red or brown oxide coat­ing on iron or steel caused by the action of oxy­gen and moisture.

car­tridge ˈkɑːtrɪʤ n Case con­tain­ing the explo­sive charge for a gun.

to rot into dust ⇒ To decay and turn into dust.

char ʧɑː v Burn to charcoal.

shat­ter ˈʃætə v To break sud­den­ly into very small pieces, or to make some­thing break in this way.

spec­i­men ˈspɛsɪmɪn n Rep­re­sen­ta­tive of a group or class: case, exam­ple, instance, sample

Poly­ne­sian ˌpɒlɪˈniːʒən adj Relat­ing to or char­ac­ter­is­tic of Poly­ne­sia (is a sub­re­gion of Ocea­nia, made up of more than 1,000 islands scat­tered over the cen­tral and south­ern Pacif­ic Ocean) or its inhabitants.

Mex­i­can ˈmɛk­sɪkən adj Relat­ing to or char­ac­ter­is­tic of Mex­i­co or its inhabitants.

Gre­cian ˈgriːʃən adj Relat­ing to or char­ac­ter­is­tic of Greece or its inhabitants.

Phoeni­cian fɪˈnɪʃɪən adj Relat­ing to or char­ac­ter­is­tic of Phoeni­cia (a tha­las­so­crat­ic, ancient Semit­ic-speak­ing Mediter­ranean civ­i­liza­tion that orig­i­nat­ed in the Lev­ant, specif­i­cal­ly Lebanon, but also includ­ing coastal Syr­ia and north Pales­tine, in the west of the Fer­tile Cres­cent) or its inhabitants.

steatite ˈstɪə­taɪt n Soap­stone or oth­er impure form of talc. a soft heavy com­pact vari­ety of talc hav­ing a soapy feel; used to make hearths and table­tops and ornaments. 

to take one’s fan­cy ⇒ To impress, to appeal to someone

to draw on ⇒ To come near.

wane weɪn v To lose strength: decline, fade, weak­en, dete­ri­o­rate, flag

ruinous ˈrʊɪnəs adj Falling to ruin; dilapidated.

heap hiːp n A large, dis­or­dered pile of things: pile

lig­nite ˈlɪg­naɪt n A soft, brown­ish-black coal in which the alter­ation of veg­etable mat­ter has pro­ceed­ed fur­ther than in peat but not as far as in bitu­mi­nous coal.

dyna­mite ˈdaɪnə­maɪt n A pow­er­ful explo­sive used in blast­ing and min­ing usu­al­ly con­sist­ing of nitro­glyc­erin and a nitrate, com­bined with an absorbent mate­r­i­al that makes it safer to handle.

eure­ka jʊəˈriːkə int Excla­ma­tion of sat­is­fac­tion on dis­cov­er­ing some­thing, solv­ing a prob­lem, find­ing a solu­tion, etc: aha, bin­go

to make an essay ⇒ To attempt; essay ˈɛseɪ/ n An ini­tial attempt or endeavour.

dum­my ˈdʌ­mi n An imi­ta­tion of a real object.

to rush off ⇒ To depart hastily.

incon­ti­nent­ly ɪnˈkɒn­tɪnəntli adv Very quick­ly. incon­ti­nent ɪnˈkɒn­tɪnənt adj Not restrained: wild, uncon­trolled, wanton

turf tɜːf v To spread with a sur­face lay­er of earth con­tain­ing a dense growth of grass and its mat­ted roots.

blaze bleɪz n A strong flame that burns bright­ly: blaz­ing

refrain form rɪˈfreɪn v To hold one­self back, forbear.