Matters were in this state, when a man dressed in a fustian jacket, like a groom, drove up to the side of the road, in a tax-cart; he immediately got down, and tearing open the door of the doctor's chaise, lifted out the young lady, and deposited her safely in his own conveyance, merely adding- "I say, master, you're in luck this morning, that Mr. William took the lower road; for if he had come up with you instead of me, he'd blow the roof off your scull, that's all."
"The Confessions of Harry Lorrequer, Complete"
Charles James Lever (1806-1872)
He and his fustian clothes smelt of earth, burnt gunpowder, goat's cheese, garlic, and bad tobacco.
"Whosoever Shall Offend"
F. Marion Crawford
The fustian jackets of the men were generally whole and well cared for; but the children more than all struck him.
"St. Patrick's Eve"
Charles James Lever