| 包装速度 | 5 |
|---|---|
| 电压 | 220v |
| 功率 | 150w |
| 功能 | 包装辅助,杀菌,捆扎,裹包,灌装,封口,打包 |
| 规格 | SX-100 |
| 适用对象 | 油类,碳酸饮料,清洁、洗涤用品,口服液,酒类饮料,酱类,化妆品类,护肤品类,护发用品,果汁饮料 |
| 售后服务 | 保修一年 |
| 重量 | 5kg |
| 营销 | 新品 |
| 适用行业 | 餐饮,医药,**,玩具,食品,日化,家纺,化工,服装 |
| 物料类型 | 液体 |
| 自动化程度 | 全自动 |
| 包装类型 | 袋 |
| 品牌 | 伽利略Galileo |
| 型号 | SX-100 |
| 加工定制 | 否 |
| 包装材质 | 塑料 |
church, and the changed air of the place. Again, the dreaded
Sunday comes round, and I file into the old pew first, like a
guarded captive brought to a condemned service. Again, Miss
Murdstone, in a black velvet gown, that looks as if it had been
made out of a pall, follows close upon me; then my mother; then
her husband. There is no Peggotty now, as in the old time. Again, I
listen to Miss Murdstone mumbling the responses, and
emphasizing all the dread words with a cruel relish. Again, I see
her dark eyes roll round the church when she says ‘miserable
sinners’, as if she were calling all the congregation names. Again, I
catch rare glimpses of my mother, moving her lips timidly between
the two, with one of them muttering at each ear like low thunder.
Again, I wonder with a sudden fear whether it is likely that our
good old clergyman can be wrong, and Mr. and Miss Murdstone
right, and that all the angels in Heaven can be destroying angels.
Again, if I move a finger or relax a muscle of my face, Miss
Murdstone pokes me with her prayer-book, and makes my side
ache.
Yes, and again, as we walk home, I note some neighbours
looking at my mother and at me, and whispering. Again, as the
three go on arm-in-arm, and I linger behind alone, I follow some of
those looks, and wonder if my mother’s step be really not so light
as I have seen it, and if the gaiety of her beauty be really almost
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
f
David Copperfield
worried away. Again, I wonder whether any of the neighbours call
to mind, as I do, how we used to walk home together, she and I;
and I wonder stupidly about that, all the dreary dismal day.
There had been some talk on occasions of my going to
boarding-school. Mr. and Miss Murdstone had originated it, and
my mother had of course agreed with them. Nothing, however,
was concluded on the subject yet. In the meantime, I learnt
lessons at home. Shall I ever forget those lessons! They were
presided over nominally by my mother, but really by Mr.
Murdstone and his sister, who were always present, and found
them a favourable occasion for giving my mother lessons in that
miscalled firmness, which was the bane of both our lives. I believe
I was kept at home for that purpose. I had been apt enough to
learn, and willing enough, when my mother and I had lived alone
together. I can faintly remember learning the alphabet at her
knee. To this day, when I look upon the fat black letters in the
primer, the puzzling novelty of their shapes, and the easy good-
nature of O and Q and S, seem to present themselves again before
me as they used to do. But they recall no feeling of disgust or
reluctance. On the contrary, I seem to have walked along a path of
flowers as far as the crocodile-book, and to have been cheered by
the gentleness of my mother’s voice and manner all the way. But
these solemn lessons which succeeded those, I remember as the
death-blow of my peace, and a grievous daily drudgery and
misery. They were very long, very numerous, very hard—perfectly
unintelligible, some of them, to me—and I was generally as much
bewildered by them as I believe my poor mother was herself.
Let me remember how it used to be, and bring one morning
back again.
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
f
David Copperfield
