To-day I'd such a sell in this respect-went to the Maharajah's Palace, a miniature Abbotsford, to leave cards, and just as were passing a neighbouring compound, there appeared under the trees a glorious covey of red chupprassies seated in a circle on the ground, their scarlet and gold and white uniforms glaring in the sunbeams that shot through the foliage-such purple shadows-such a suggestion of colour, and gossip, or tales of the East!
"From Edinburgh to India & Burmah"
William G. Burn Murdoch
He was a Vulcan forging thunders with words and destructive batteries of bolts with phrases, and Boone Wellver-trembling with excitement as a pointer puppy trembles with the young eagerness of the covey-scent in his nostrils-seemed to be in the presence of a miracle; the miracle of eloquence.
"The Tempering"
Charles Neville Buck
It is silent save for the gentle twittering of the swallows on the topmost branches-they are talking of their coming journey-and perhaps occasionally the distant echo of a shot where the lead has gone whistling among a covey.
"Wild Life in a Southern County"
Richard Jefferies