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Updated: June 22, 2025
It was all so natural and apparently easy an epic in moleskin and human flesh, with only the little glimmer of oil-lamps, which darted from side to side in a mad mazurka of toil, crossing and recrossing, swinging and halting, the flames flattening out with every heave of their owners' bodies, then abruptly being brought to the steady again.
He was a puffy, wheezy, sententious little fellow, who accompanied his parables with a snort into a large finely plaited shirt-frill, reaching nearly up to his nose. His hunting-costume consisted of a black coat and waistcoat, with white moleskin breeches, much cracked and darned about the knees and other parts, as nether garments made of that treacherous stuff often are.
She re-appeared, radiant in a moleskin cap and furs, and then they both awkwardly remembered he, that he had made no inquiry about Weston, and she, that she had said nothing of Gertrude Marvell's hurried departure. "Your poor maid? Tell me about her. Oh, but she'll do well. We'll take care of her. France is an awfully good doctor." Her eyes thanked him.
They had a gaol, the prisoners of which in early days were sometimes let out for a half-holiday, with the warning from the gaoler, Johnnie Barr, that if they did not come back by eight o'clock they would be locked out for the night. The usual dress of the settlers was a blue shirt, moleskin or corduroy trousers, and a slouch hat.
He was hatless; his Crimean shirt was torn into ribbons; his moleskin breeches were covered with blood and dirt; the strap belt, with its sheath-knife and various pouches, was gone, and this, judging from the state of his legs and feet, had been forcibly removed. A gash from a tomahawk disfigured his head; the woolly hair was matted with blood.
One felt like a happy child; pleased at nothing, content to exist where existence was a pleasure. You could not find more favourable specimens of New Zealand colonists than the two men, Trew and Domville, who stood before us in their working dress of red flannel shirts and moleskin trousers, "Cookham" boots and digger's plush hats.
Man, I never heard such weird cries in my life. How is it that I haven't heard them before when I came here?" Iredale took his visitor's horse. He was dressed in moleskin. Underneath his loose, dun-coloured vest he wore a soft shirt, and in place of a linen collar he had a red bandana tied about his neck. His headgear was a Stetson hat.
A rustle near at hand awoke attention, and he rolled his head lazily on one shoulder. The rustle drew nearer yet, and round the bend of the trail came a man in moleskin trousers, a gray shirt, and a shapeless felt hat, which seemed to have no colour but those lent to it by years of sun and rain. 'Hillo, mate! said the new man. 'Hillo! said the camper-out.
At this moment, attired in the Crimson sweater, moleskin trousers, and black and crimson stockings that made up the school uniform, he looked every inch the commander of the motley array that surrounded him. "Warren, you take a dozen or so of these fellows over there out of the way and pass the ball awhile. Get their names first. Christie, you take another dozen farther down the field."
He was the one Beatrice called upon to play with her, he accompanied her shopping, even unto the milliner's, and had been in New York one time when Beatrice had gone down to see about buying a moleskin wrap. Not even Trudy knew that he had actually adopted a monocle and squired Beatrice round in state.
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