Sky blue

“Hi! Kostandi!” called out an old sailor in a sky-blue cloak. “How are things with you?”

Hence, Suffolk dairy wives run mad for cream, And leave their milk with nothing but the name; Its name derision and reproach pursue, And strangers tell of three-times-skimm'd sky-blue.

To be sure, your Aunt Betsey lives in a brick house, and has a sight of furniture, […] yet she has all her bread to buy by the loaf, and the milk is sky-blue; as to cream, I don't believe they ever heard on't.