While paddling along he noticed that man tiny black, purple, and white shells clung to his paddle.
"The Scouts of the Valley" by Joseph A. Altsheler
There were also pretty canary-colored cockle-shells and tiny purple mussels washed up by the tide.
"A New England Girlhood" by Lucy Larcom
They are triangular in shape, with smooth shells of every imaginable colour, though a rich purple is commonest.
"By Rock and Pool on an Austral Shore, and Other Stories" by Louis Becke
Lacedemon supplied green marble, and the dye of the purple shell-fish.
"Robert Kerr's General History and Collection of Voyages and Travels, Volume 18" by William Stevenson
The glory of Tyre and Sidon arose from the purple droppings of a little dog's mouth who had been eating shell fish.
"Septimus" by William J. Locke
Grace and fragrance everywhere: fruits crimson, gold, and purple; fishes blue, orange, pink; shells of rose and pearl.
"The Flower of the Chapdelaines" by George W. Cable
The animals of the barnacles (Pentalasmis) attached to these shells assume their purple colours, while the shell remains nearly pure white.
"Journals Of Two Expeditions Of Discovery In North-West And Western Australia, Vol. 1 (of 2)" by George Grey
These wampums are properly made of the purple part of the shells, which the Indians value more than the white parts.
"The Conquest of Canada (Vol. 1 of 2)" by George Warburton
Therefore I will construct for thee this tomb as a pearl oyster shell, Or shell of the purple dye, or bud on a thorny brier.
"Byzantine Churches in Constantinople" by Alexander Van Millingen
It was green, smooth and clear, too; sight carried straight down to where the purple-shelled mussels gripped the rocks.
"Billy Topsail & Company" by Norman Duncan
The lithe brown children have gone to rest-
Shell-hunting over for one more day,
Purple the east and purple the west,
And white stars over Martin's Bay.
"Christmas in Alurio" by Theodore Goodridge Roberts
The hills are clad in purple and in gold,
The ripened maize is gathered in the shock,
The frost has kissed the nuts, their shells unfold,
And fallen leaves are floating on the lock.
"September" by Joseph Horatio Chant
What, not a word? Ah hearken, shell, I've shut the cottage door;
There's scarce a sound to drown thy voice, so silent is the moor,
A bell may tinkle far away upon its purple rise;
A bee may buz among the heath--a lavrock cleave the skies.
"The Shell" by Isabella Valancy Crawford