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For instance, one day the children had been playing upon the piazza with blocks and other playthings, and finally had gone into the house, leaving all the things on the floor of the piazza, instead of putting them away in their places, as they ought to have done. They were now playing with their dolls in the parlor.
On the piazza stood Anna and Carrie, the one with her handkerchief stuffed in her mouth, and the other with her mouth open, astounded at the unlooked-for spectacle. "Oh, what shall I do, what shall I do?" groaned Mrs. Livingstone. "Do?
There is a pleasant balcony with an upstairs and a downstairs, which Potter and Captain Collingwood call the "piazza," and it would have been delightful sitting there while the men smoked, if appalling little animals with a ridiculous number of thin, stick-out legs hadn't come buzzing round us.
They went to the Mayville House and took a walk on the piazza, and the boarders looked at them in curiosity, and wondered if it were really a pleasanter walk than the green fields over at Chautauqua. They ordered dinner and ate it at the general table with great relish, Ruth rejoicing over this return to civilized life. One episode of the table must be noted.
Graham, Carrie, and Annie were all standing upon the piazza, and as 'Lena came up the walk, her eyes sparkling and her bright face glowing with exercise, Anna exclaimed, "Isn't she beautiful?" at the same time asking her "where she had been." "To Woodlawn," answered 'Lena. "To Woodlawn!" repeated Mrs. Graham. "To Woodlawn!" echoed Mrs.
When that meal was finished, Colonel Jarvis followed me as I walked to the piazza. "If it ain't presuming, madam," he said confidentially, "I'd like to ask your advice. I take it you're from the city, now?" "Yes," I answered, with preternatural gravity; "what makes you think so?" "Well, I knew it by your gait, mostly.
However, on reaching the Piazza delle Terme, after skirting the greenery of a little public garden, the man turned round, still smiling, and pointing to some ruins with his whip, "The baths of Diocletian," said he in broken French, like an obliging driver who is anxious to court favour with foreigners in order to secure their custom.
Of course she wouldn't wave when he was nowhere in sight when he had apparently forgotten! And here was a whole precious day wasted! "The next morning, long before eight, the boy stood in plain sight on the piazza. As before he waited until nine; and as before there was no sign of life at the tower window. The next morning he was there again, and the next, and the next.
All but this one, that the "gale" had taken care of. Uncle Roderick, hearing the voices, came out into the piazza. "We want you over at our house," repeated Ruth. "Right off, now; there's something you ought to see about." "I don't like mysteries," said Mrs. Roderick, severely, covering her curiosity; "especially when children get them up. And it's no matter about the breakfast, either way.
Out of the dust and heat of the Piazza one comes into a cool cloister that surrounds a quadrangle open to the sky, in which a cypress still lives. The sun fills the garden with a golden beauty, in which the butterflies flit from flower to flower over the dead. I do not know a place more silent or more beautiful.
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