His short legs were clad in blue overalls, so far as their outside cover was concerned, or at least the overalls once had been blue, though now much faded.

Under these, as might be seen by a glance at their bottoms, were two, three, or possibly even more, pairs of trousers, all borne up and suspended at the top by an intricate series of ropes and strings which crossed his half-bare shoulders.

One might have searched all of Sim Gage's cabin and have found on the wall not one article of clothing--he wore all he had, summer and winter.

And as he was now, so he had been ever since his nearest neighbor could remember.

A picture of indifference, apathy and hopelessness, he stood, every rag and wrinkle of him sharply outlined in the clear air.
He stood uncertainly now, his foot turned over, as he always stood, there seeming never at any time any determination or even animation about him.