Thereat mirth grew in them the more and they rehearsed to him his curious rite of wedlock for the disrobing and deflowering of spouses, as the priests use in Madagascar island, she to be in guise of white and saffron, her groom in white and grain, with burning of nard and tapers, on a bridebed while clerks sung kyries and the anthem Ut novetur sexus omnis corporis mysterium till she was there unmaided.
It was indeed a Superior Comestible (that’s magic), and he put it on the stove because he was allowed to cook on that stove, and he baked it and he baked it till it was all done brown and smelt most sentimental.
(Rudyard Kipling, ‘How the rhinoceros got his skin’, Just So Stories)
Even before a single sip of tea from a rose floral china cup, or any old tin pannikin with the scratched initials of the owner’s name on the side, or plastic mug, or heavy earthenware cup of fawn and brown, had reached dry lips, bringing some life and sense of propriety back into the bleak faces of all who dwelled safely within this world of Uptown, everyone knew something was amiss.
(Alexis Wright, Carpentaria 3)
They picked their way through the green bog and stood in the cottage. Through the empty windows swallows swooped to and from their brown mud nests.
Rabbits thronged to the dams at sundown, and Ernest Maplestead trapped them with fences. The rounded furry bodies milled in the traps, and the children shouted. ‘I want a black one,’ Rob cried; and they gave him a black one, which scratched him.
(Randolph Stow, The Merry-Go-Round in the Sea, 4)
He watched dustmotes climbing and sliding, gold in the slippery light. Down in the tennis court the windmill clanked in the easterly, and the grey-brown doves roocooed on the tennis court fence.
(Randolph Stow, The Merry-Go-Round in the Sea, 3)