Elsewhere in the house, glass lamp shades, handed down from father to son, we’re being cleaned, and their copper rims polished; kerosene lamps were stripped of the protective red covers, which had kept out flies and mosquitoes and made them useless the rest of the year; crystal drops and ropes of pendants swung from chandeliers, striking musically against one another as they were dusted, joining their notes to the gaiety and sprinkling the white walls with the colours of the rainbow.
(José Rizal, Noli Me Tangere, tr. Leon Ma. Guerrero, ch. 27)