She had found that staple groceries, sugar, flour, could be most cheaply purchased at Axel Egge’s rustic general store.
The reason, Carol insisted, is not a whiskered rusticity.
She felt rustic in this once familiar city, after a year and a half of Gopher Prairie.
How proud you are of that homely rustic metaphor!
And certainly though the lords and earls of his day may have looked down upon Burns as a humble person, many of us have greatly enjoyed his pieces about the mouse and other rustic subjects, with their message of humble beauty—I am so sorry I have not got the time to quote some of them.
She was the more rustic in her effort to appear urban.
He was a bulky, gauche, noisy, humorous man, with narrow eyes, a rustic complexion, large red hands, and brilliant clothes.
She was reflecting that he was a rustic, that she hated him, that she had been insane to marry him, that she had married him only because she was tired of work, that she must get her long gloves cleaned, that she would never do anything more for him, and that she mustn’t forget his hominy for breakfast.
There was an uneasy knot of only nine guests at the service in the unpainted Lutheran Church—Carol, Kennicott, Guy Pollock, and the Champ Perrys, all brought by Carol; Bea’s frightened rustic parents, her cousin Tina, and Pete, Miles’s ex-partner in horse-trading, a surly, hairy man who had bought a black suit and come twelve hundred miles from Spokane for the event.
Beavers, human Beavers, were everywhere: thirty-second degree Beavers in gray sack suits and decent derbies, more flippant Beavers in crash summer coats and straw hats, rustic Beavers in shirt sleeves and frayed suspenders; but whatever his caste-symbols, every Beaver was distinguished by an enormous shrimp-colored ribbon lettered in silver, "Sir Knight and Brother, U. F. O. B., Annual State Convention."
She had felt young and dissipated, had thought rather well of her black and leaf-green suit, but as she watched them, thin of ankle, soft under the chin, seventeen or eighteen at most, smoking cigarettes with the correct ennui and talking of "bedroom farces" and their desire to "run up to New York and see something racy," she became old and rustic and plain, and desirous of retreating from these hard brilliant children to a life easier and more sympathetic.
There are no more uses of "rustic" in the book.
Show samples from other sources
Low-slung brown leather couches with modern lines were coupled with a rustic coffee table on a cow-skin rug.
Nicholas Sparks -- The Longest Ride
It seemed excessively rustic, even for Cairnholm.
Ransom Riggs -- Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children