{"id":"01KG8AKRV7NFFWFEX3KMRWVRCW","cid":"bafkreifgvyprqvvlef2f4fmskykmaujwt4kdruytqtkiibwnezw4sv3apu","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":135,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:15.023Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 2","source_file":"01KG89J1F4D8P9BBX9AMGZ7TX7","start_line":98,"text":"The house was wide—my fortune narrow; so that, to build a panoramic\r\npiazza, one round and round, it could not be—although, indeed,\r\nconsidering the matter by rule and square, the carpenters, in the\r\nkindest way, were anxious to gratify my furthest wishes, at I’ve\r\nforgotten how much a foot.\r\n\r\nUpon but one of the four sides would prudence grant me what I wanted.\r\nNow, which side?\r\n\r\nTo the east, that long camp of the Hearth Stone Hills, fading far away\r\ntowards Quito; and every fall, a small white flake of something peering\r\nsuddenly, of a coolish morning, from the topmost cliff—the season’s\r\nnew-dropped lamb, its earliest fleece; and then the Christmas dawn,\r\ndraping those dim highlands with red-barred plaids and tartans—goodly\r\nsight from your piazza, that. Goodly sight; but, to the north is\r\nCharlemagne—can’t have the Hearth Stone Hills with Charlemagne.\r\n\r\nWell, the south side. Apple-trees are there. Pleasant, of a balmy\r\nmorning, in the month of May, to sit and see that orchard,\r\nwhite-budded, as for a bridal; and, in October, one green arsenal yard;\r\nsuch piles of ruddy shot. Very fine, I grant; but, to the north is\r\nCharlemagne.\r\n\r\nThe west side, look. An upland pasture, alleying away into a maple wood\r\nat top. Sweet, in opening spring, to trace upon the hill-side,\r\notherwise gray and bare—to trace, I say, the oldest paths by their\r\nstreaks of earliest green. Sweet, indeed, I can’t deny; but, to the\r\nnorth is Charlemagne.\r\n\r\nSo Charlemagne, he carried it. It was not long after 1848; and,\r\nsomehow, about that time, all round the world, these kings, they had\r\nthe casting vote, and voted for themselves.\r\n\r\nNo sooner was ground broken, than all the neighborhood, neighbor Dives,\r\nin particular, broke, too—into a laugh. Piazza to the north! Winter\r\npiazza! Wants, of winter midnights, to watch the Aurora Borealis, I\r\nsuppose; hope he’s laid in good store of Polar muffs and mittens.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 2"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AK2X9T4N9PGKRRFSPCCYD","peer_type":"section","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1F4D8P9BBX9AMGZ7TX7","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKRV4Q6NZYEJQYRYYD16B","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AKRV4HHYTVVQ7CPPDH66W","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:15.207Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:22.265Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}