The collars were of the standing kind, and came high up under the ears, like the sides of a wheelbarrow, as required by the fashion of the day.

The cravats were as broad as a bankbill, with fringed ends which stood far out to right and left like the wings of a dragon-fly, and this also was strictly in accordance with the fashion of the time.

Each cravat, as to color, was in perfect taste, so far as its owner's complexion was concerned--a delicate pink, in the case of the blond brother, a violent scarlet in the case of the brunette--but as a combination they broke all the laws of taste known to civilization.
Nothing more fiendish and irreconcilable than those shrieking and blaspheming colors could have been contrived.

The wet boots gave no end of trouble--to Luigi.

When they were off at last, Angelo said, with bitterness: "I wish you wouldn't wear such tight boots, they hurt my feet." Luigi answered with indifference: "My friend, when I am in command of our body, I choose my apparel according to my own convenience, as I have remarked more than several times already.