slate blue:

Bob gave the man fair warning. Told him if he ever prowled around his home again he'd better come a–fogging; the man took a chance and now he's where the woodbine twineth and the whangdoodle mourneth for its mate.

The thick growth of the fine old trees, and the unclipped shrubs, shut out all but the small portion of shrubbery, which was like one bright and blooming spot in a wilderness.

[H]e opened his eyes again; the spreading film retired, and love relumed them—he gave a look—it was never forgotten.