It was attached to a
moth-eaten sash of thick-woven crimson silk from which hung heavy silk tassels.
At eight o'clock the next evening Aunt Ellen took a quaint old gold ring from a
moth-eaten case and gave it to Richard.
His getting on his box, which I remember to have been decorated with an old weather-stained pea-green hammercloth
moth-eaten into rags, was quite a work of time.
They found a little hat of soft brown plush, but it was entirely
moth-eaten. Felicite asked for it.
I saw something like them in Hampton Court, but they were worn and frayed and
moth-eaten. But still in none of the rooms is there a mirror.
"There is a crimson curtain in a trunk above stairs,--a little faded and
moth-eaten, I'm afraid,--but Phoebe and I will do wonders with it."
Growling horribly, a huge lion stood across the body of his prey--such a creature as no Pan-American of the twenty-second century had ever beheld until my eyes rested upon this lordly specimen of "the king of beasts." But what a different creature was this fierce-eyed demon, palpitating with life and vigor, glossy of coat, alert, growling, magnificent, from the dingy,
moth-eaten replicas beneath their glass cases in the stuffy halls of our public museums.
In a preposterous coat, like a beadle's, with cuffs and flaps exaggerated to an unspeakable extent; in an immense waistcoat, knee-breeches, buckled shoes, and a mad cocked hat; with nothing fitting him, and everything of coarse material,
moth-eaten and full of holes; with seams in his black face, where fear and heat had started through the greasy composition daubed all over it; anything so grimly, detestably, ridiculously shameful as the whelp in his comic livery, Mr.
He found old
moth-eaten garments all in rags and tatters, or Peter would have put them on.
They had hurried on because they were anxious to bring the spoils of the chase to Simla ere the skins grew
moth-eaten. They bore a general letter of introduction (the Babu salaamed to it orientally) to all Government officials.
However, oddly smirking deer, pop-eyed perch, scary-looking ducks and
moth-eaten bearskin rugs inhabit the opposite end of the universe from the incredible animal creations we saw in the Springfield Convention Center.
Banish all thoughts of
moth-eaten blouses, second hand doesn't mean retro.