It was sitting on a stone wall, and it must have been a brave crow that would have ventured within a mile of that ridiculous bundle of rags.

The face was effectually concealed by a huge hat as is the case with most scarecrows, and all the cast-off clothing of Everdoze for centuries back seemed combined here in incongruous array.
What was Pee-wee's consternation when he beheld this figure actually descend from the fence and come shambling over toward him.

If the legs were not on stilts they were certainly the longest legs he had ever seen, and they must have been suspended by a kind of universal joint for they moved in every direction while bringing their burden forward.
Upon this absurd being's closer approach, Pee-wee perceived it to be a negro as thin and tall as a clothes pole, and so black that the blackness of sin would seem white by comparison and the arctic night like the blazing rays of midsummer.

This was Licorice Stick whose home was nowhere in particular, whose profession was everything and chiefly nothing.
"I done seed yer comin'," he said with a smile a mile long which shone in the surrounding darkness like the midnight sun of Norway.

His teeth were as conspicuous as tombstones, and on close inspection Pee-wee saw that his tattered regalia was held together by a system of safety pins placed at strategic points.