"I rushed forward to the boy, but I could already hear the death-rattle. He passed away before the fire was extinguished, without having said a word. [...]
Guy de Maupassant. Original Short Stories - volume 4
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She look me over from head to foot. Then she cackle. Sound like a death rattle.
Alice Walker. The Color Purple, p.46 (1982)
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"They put in with a stone two-gallon jar for some beer. I'd ha' been glad to pison the beer myself," said the Jack, "or put some rattling physic in it."