It was time for Mr. Dorski to wind up his house again. An old house, it held its steep and elegant head up to a neat three story height. A pair of slender chimneys clung to its right cheek, like two uneven fingers raised in salute. It was from the tops of these chimneys that the intricate and massive brass key-heads jutted. Mr. Dorski peered at them with some trepidation from his perch on the rickety ladder. His breath came out in steaming puffs, his round face flushed.
{But} as the house was wound only each eighth year, he spent cold moments dodging loose roof tiles and rotting piles of leaf which had accumulated in the span.
-contraption -ladder of g.pa
(Grey is me, Green you. Revise your paragraph, and I will add more of my own! That is everything that was written in my book for you.)
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