Piggy wore the remainders of a pair of shorts, his fat body was golden brown, and the glasses still flashed when he looked at anything. He was the only boy on the island whose hair never seemed to grow. The rest were shock-headed, but Piggy's hair lay in wisps over his head as though baldness were his natural state and this imperfect covering would soon go, like the velvet on a young stag's antlers.
And Piggy said, "I've been thinking; about a clock. We could make a sundial. We could put a stick in the sand, and then—" But then he thought about it, and decided that it was too much work.
"And an airplane, and a TV set, and a steam engine." Ralph replied quite sourly. Piggy just shook his head and thought for a moment.
You have to have a lot of metal for that," he said, "and we haven't got no metal. But we got a stick."
Ralph turned and smiled involuntarily. Piggy was a bore; his fat, his ass-mar, and his matter-of-fact ideas were dull, but there was always a little pleasure to be got out of pulling his leg, even if one did it by accident.”-
With some thought, they walked back to their "civilization".