In general he was undecided, unfinished--yes, surely nature must have been undecided as he himself was about himself.
His clothing was such as might have been predicted for the owner of the nondescript bed resting on the cabin floor.

His neck, grimed, red and wrinkled as that of an ancient turtle, rose above his bare brown shoulders and his upper chest, likewise exposed.

His only body covering was an undershirt, or two undershirts.

Their flannel over-covering had left them apparently some time since, and as for the remnant, it had known such wear that his arms, brown as those of an Indian, were bare to the elbows.

He was always thus, so far as any neighbor could have remembered him, save that in the winter time he cast a sheepskin coat over all.