Small Bristly Mustache of Empire

"Then the door was flung open by a powerful hand, and a tough, square, chunky, weatherbeaten-looking man in the middle forties strode in. He had keen blue eyes, a very red face, a round head inclined to baldness and one of those small, bristly mustaches which abound in such profusion in the outposts of Empire. Indeed, these sprout in so widespread a way on the upper lips of those who bear the white man's burden that it is a tenable theory that the latter hold some sort of patent rights. One recalls the nostalgic words of the poet Kipling, when he sang 'Put me somewheres east of Suez, where the best is like the worst, where there ain't no ten commandments, and a man can raise a small bristly mustache.'"

-P.G. Wodehouse, The Return of Jeeves