Then you throw in visits to friends, and acquaintances call on you, all in the concentrated week; you breakfast late, lunch heavily, rush off to a hurried dinner somewhere, then rush off to a play or some function or other, supper somewhere else and then home, too late for half a pipe; engagements about clothes, hats, dresses, guns, lunches, dinners, theatres, you have all in your mind, awake and asleep, and as you run about attending to essentials and superfluities, you jostle with the collarless man in the street, and note the hungry look, and reflect how thin is the ice that bears you and how easy it is to go through, just a step, and you are over the neck-collar gone and the crease out of the trousers.
"From Edinburgh to India & Burmah"
William G. Burn Murdoch
His raiment withal was slovenly, consisting of moleskin trousers none too clean, a collarless flannel shirt, also none too clean, and a slouch hat.
"The Luck of Gerard Ridgeley"
Bertram Mitford
Just then a buggy, containing a disheveled woman and collarless man, galloped over the crossing and sped westward.
"My Home In The Field of Honor"
Frances Wilson Huard