Every so far on the silver there was a little pink moss rose having green leaves.

The carpet was plum red and green in wide stripes, and the lace curtains were freshly washed, snowy, and touched the floor.

The big rocker, the straight-backed chairs, and the sofa were beautiful red mahogany wood, and the seats shining haircloth.

If no one happened to be looking, you could sit on a sofa arm, stick your feet out and shoot off like riding down a haystack; the landing was much better.

On the sofa you bounced two feet high the first time; one, the second; and a little way the third.
On the haystack, maybe you hit a soft spot, and maybe you struck a rock.