The way led through green lanes-through a green park, where tall red sorrel and white daisies grew high among the grass that was up for hay.
"The Literary Sense"
E. Nesbit
"You were saying," said Freke, "something about a bad quarter of an hour you had with that old sorrel horse of yours-" "Well, I should say it was a bad quarter of an hour," answered Throckmorton.
"Throckmorton"
Molly Elliot Seawell
How often had she heard that grewsome story-even that the plunging horse was a sorrel!
"Throckmorton"
Molly Elliot Seawell