But many a little close carriage has stopped at that door, as my informant (little Tom Eaves
, who knows everything, and who showed me the place) told me.
The fact that Barsoomian architecture is extremely ornate made the feat much simpler than I had anticipated, since I found ornamental ledges and projections which fairly formed a perfect ladder for me all the way to the eaves
of the building.
I climbed the barren mountain, And my gaze swept far and wide For the red-lit eaves
of my father's home, And I fancied that he sighed: My son has gone for a soldier, For a soldier night and day; But my son is wise, and may yet return, When the drums have died away.
BENEATH the vine-clad eaves
, Whose shadows fall before Thy lowly cottage door Under the lilac's tremulous leaves-- Within thy snowy claspeèd hand The purple flowers it bore.
And the old lame horse in the stable was glad to see him; and so were the swallows who had already built their nests under the eaves
of his roof and had young ones.
There was the old gray house with its sloping eaves
At the other side of this road were three large detached deep-bodied villas with peaky eaves
and small wooden balconies, each standing in its own little square of grass and of flowers.
She led him up the winding stone stair to a room which was just beneath the eaves
of a high, round tower; but she would not let Little John come with him.
I stepped over the great western gate, and passed very gently, and sidling, through the two principal streets, only in my short waistcoat, for fear of damaging the roofs and eaves
of the houses with the skirts of my coat.
Long thatched sheds stretched round the enclosure, their slopes encrusted with vivid green moss, and their eaves
supported by wooden posts rubbed to a glossy smoothness by the flanks of infinite cows and calves of bygone years, now passed to an oblivion almost inconceivable in its profundity.
The houses had all been solid, dressed stone structures; most of them were ploughed through and through by cannon balls--unroofed and sliced down from eaves
to foundation--and now a row of them, half a mile long, looks merely like an endless procession of battered chimneys.
It was one of the nights when the storm-wind hurtles over the frozen meadows and black hollows, and moans around the eaves
like a lost creature, and drives the snow sharply against the shaking panes.