He chewed tobacco and toiled on from year to year without any very clearly defined idea of the future.

His life was mainly regulated from without.
He was tall, dark and strong, in a flat-chested, slouching sort of way, and had grown neglectful of even decency in his dress.

He wore the American farmer's customary outfit of rough brown pants, hickory shirt and greasy wool hat.

It differed from his neighbors' mainly in being a little dirtier and more ragged.

His grimy hands were broad and strong as the clutch of a bear, and he was a "terrible feller to turn off work," as Councill said.