Tatterdemalion

The house, on his arrival, seemed in some confusion, as if a catastrophe had happened in the family; and the servants clustered together in the hall, and were unable, or perhaps not altogether anxious, to suppress their merriment at the tatterdemalion figure of the secretary.

For the same reason the kings of Europe could not resist the tatterdemalion soldiers of the Convention.

Thus, too, we have the woman social reformer, trailing along ridiculously behind a tatterdemalion posse of male utopians, each with something to sell.

[…] we haue ordeined that through euery ward […] there be erected one sound, sufficient, and well painted whipping poste, the very sight of which wil not only scarre them, worse then the scowting face of a Serieant being seen peeping through a red lettice, frights a yong gallant, but also in time driue the whole band of Tatterdemalions from poste to piller.

St. Martin [of Tours] looks round, first, deliberately;—becomes aware of a tatterdemalion and thirsty-looking soul of a beggar at his chair side, who has managed to get his cup filled somehow, also—by a charitable lacquey. St. Martin turns his back on the Empress, and hobnobs with him!

She took romantic fancies to vagabonds of either sex, attempted to establish social relations with them, and was the cause of infinite agitation to the gentleman who lived near her in the Crescent, who was always smoking at the window, and who reminded Hyacinth of Mr. Micawber. She received visits that were a scandal to the Crescent, and Hyacinth neglected his affairs, whatever they were, to see what tatterdemalion would next turn up at her door.

Then it wasn’t worth while sending to Neufchâtel for the keeper of a cookshop! And for whom? For cowherds! tatterdemalions! [translating va-nu-pieds]

Rags mounted guard over the treasure. Virtue rendered these tatterdemalions resplendent.

[…] we found hundreds of Cuban insurgents, a crew of as utter tatterdemalions as human eyes ever looked on, armed with every kind of rifle in all stages of dilapidation. It was evident, at a glance, that they would be no use in serious fighting.

Whenever his name was mentioned, she had a vague impression of a bearded tatterdemalion like Ben Gunn in Treasure Island, leading a lonely existence on some bleak, salty islet, his pants in rags and his wristwatch corroded from the seawater.