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Updated: August 18, 2024
In the same clothes he wears on entering, unwashed, uncombed, without even a blanket or handful of straw to lie upon he languishes in sickness, lives or dies with no means of making his condition known to those outside. He may count the lagging hours, sleep, rave, curse, pray, long for death, dash his brains out, go mad if he likes nobody knows it. He is dead to the world and buried though living.
Still, her great black eyes, her coarse, uncombed, lusterless black hair falling over her sunburned face, her red arms and feet streaked with the red soil, were all familiar to him. It was Melissa Smith Smith's motherless child. "What can she want here?" thought the master. Everybody knew "Mliss," as she was called, throughout the length and height of Red Mountain.
He was evidently newly out of his bunk for his face was unwashed, his hair uncombed, and his large overcoat was roughly thrown over his sleeping clothes. "What the mischief does this mean?" he exclaimed throwing a note on the table the facsimile of that which was puzzling Captain Gordon.
As he spoke, the two smokers approached; shaggy, uncombed ruffians, whose enormous mustaches were turned back over their ears, and mingled with the wild elf-locks of their hair, much of which was seen under the old beavers which they wore aside upon their heads, while some straggling portion escaped through the rents of the hats aforesaid.
We were a fearful team; absolutely filthy, uncombed, unwashed, unshaven, and with the Russian's paint still thick upon us. Afterward we went down to the canal and endeavoured to knock the worst of it off. All danger was past now. We seemed to walk on air. We were once again British soldiers.
But as she noticed the mountain girl's appearance, the laugh died on her lips, and her face was grave with puzzled concern. Poor Judy's black hair was uncombed and dishevelled. The sallow, old-young face was distorted with passion, and the beady eyes glittered with the light of an insane purpose. "What is it, Judy?" asked Betty Jo. "What in the world is the matter?"
Men, once robust and strong, weak and helpless as babes, with hollow cheeks, toothless gums, thin pale lips, colorless flesh, sunken eyes, long, tangled hair, uncombed for many months, skeleton fingers with nails like eagles' claws, lying in rags upon the deck, some, with strained eyes, looking up for the last time to the dear old flag which waved above them, for which they had fought, for which they had starved, for which they were dying, gazing in rapture on its blessed folds, till their eyes were fixed in death, and the slowly-heaving heart stood still forever!
Large gristly ears emerged from his uncombed mop of hair, and the only redeeming feature about the abject creature was his large, brown, dog-like eyes. He crept forward, grinding his teeth and rubbing his bony hands, and subsided into a waste-paper basket which was the only available seat left unoccupied.
In former years Paulvitch had been a fastidious scoundrel; but ten years of hideous life among the cannibals of Africa had eradicated the last vestige of niceness from his habits. His apparel was wrinkled and soiled. His hands were unwashed, his few straggling locks uncombed. His room was a jumble of filthy disorder.
They were dusty and uncombed, hatless, bonnetless and ragged, and they did look so tired! We changed horses ten or twelve times in every twenty-four hours changed mules, rather six mules and did it nearly every time in four minutes. It was lively work.
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