Nicholas wore his usual fustian clothes, but had a bit of black stuff sewn round his hat — a mark of mourning which he had never shown to his daughter Bessy's memory.
As for his trousers, they were of tow-cloth, very short in the legs, and bagging down strangely in the rear, but yet having a suitableness to his figure which his other garment entirely lacked.
It looms up big in the window displays, but it's got a filler of glucose, or starch or mucilage or something, and two days after you wear it it's as limp as a cheesecloth rag.