There were some prostrate soldiers and chessmen in a little heap on the ledge, apparently waiting for a passage.

My little sister, who had already the feminine craving for tidiness, crept out of her corner and meekly gathered the chessmen from under the feet of the combatants.

On the ground when waiting to spring, these grasshoppers looked as if made of wood: they looked like displaced chessmen of ancient workmanship.

One battleship was one unit, one chessman on the naval board.