"Mottle" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... Ellen was a woman-child, and suddenly she struck the rock upon which women so often wreck or effect harbor, whichever it may be. All at once she looked up from the dazzling mosaic of the window and saw the dead partridges and grouse hanging in their rumpled brown mottle of plumage, and the dead rabbits, long and stark, with their fur pointed with frost, hanging in a piteous headlong company, and all her delight and wonder vanished, and she came down to the hard actualities of things. "Oh, the poor birds!" she cried out in her heart. "Oh, ...
— The Portion of Labor • Mary E. Wilkins Freeman
... slithering another creature with a gigantic, quivering, jelly body. Kirby saw to his horror that, in addition to four short legs with webbed, claw-tipped feet, there sprouted from the body a number of octopus tentacles. From the scabrous mottle of the head, cruel, unintelligent, bestial eyes glared at ...
— Astounding Stories of Super-Science, December 1930 • Various
... fell from the encounter with hers, and the dull mottle in his cheek became crimson with a blush at this assertion of outraged womanly dignity. He turned away, ...
— The Red Acorn • John McElroy
... of liquor, which is characteristic of soaps made from cocoa-nut oil and palm-kernel oil, is taken advantage of, as are also the physical properties of the various fats and oils, with a view to the crystallisation of the resultant soap and the development of the mottle. The fat is saponified, grained and boiled on strength, as previously described. After withdrawing the half-spent lye, the soap is just closed by boiling with water, and is then ready for the silicate or ...
— The Handbook of Soap Manufacture • W. H. Simmons
... witness to this procedure many times before but it never failed to interest him. In fact, Mr. Boner was himself a study. There was an old-fashioned golf cap perched on the top of his graying head and his close-clipped moustache was silvery white, in marked contrast to the pink-and-white mottle of his cheeks, which hung down over his collar in folds, like some dependable old foxhound's. One hand lay fat and puffy on the desk, clutching a pencil in a nervous grip. And the middle of him—he seemed to bulk and fill out the entire chair—so incongruous ...
— Stubble • George Looms |
