Waverley; or, 'Tis sixty years since — CompleteScott, Walter
History
Waverley; or, 'Tis sixty years since — Complete
Scott, Walter
Historical fiction; Jacobite Rebellion, 1745-1746 -- Fiction; Scotland -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
As Waverley moved on, here and there an old man, bent as much by toil
as years, his eyes bleared with age and smoke, tottered to the door of
his hut, to gaze on the dress of the stranger and the form and motions
of the horses, and then assembled, with his neighbours, in a little
group at the smithy, to discuss the probabilities of whence the
stranger came and where he might be going. Three or four village girls,
returning from the well or brook with pitchers and pails upon their
heads, formed more pleasing objects, and, with their thin short-gowns
and single petticoats, bare arms, legs, and feet, uncovered heads and
braided hair, somewhat resembled Italian forms of landscape. Nor could
a lover of the picturesque have challenged either the elegance of their
costume or the symmetry of their shape; although, to say the truth, a
mere Englishman in search of the COMFORTABLE, a word peculiar to his
native tongue, might have wished the clothes less scanty, the feet and
legs somewhat protected from the weather, the head and complexion
shrouded from the sun, or perhaps might even have thought the whole
person and dress considerably improved by a plentiful application of
spring water, with a quantum sufficit of soap. The whole scene was
depressing; for it argued, at the first glance, at least a stagnation
of industry, and perhaps of intellect. Even curiosity, the busiest
passion of the idle, seemed of a listless cast in the village of
Tully-Veolan: the curs aforesaid alone showed any part of its activity;
with the villagers it was passive. They stood, and gazed at the
handsome young officer and his attendant, but without any of those
quick motions and eager looks that indicate the earnestness with which
those who live in monotonous ease at home look out for amusement
abroad. Yet the physiognomy of the people, when more closely examined,
was far from exhibiting the indifference of stupidity; their features
were rough, but remarkably intelligent; grave, but the very reverse of
stupid; and from among the young women an artist might have chosen more
than one model whose features and form resembled those of Minerva. The
children also, whose skins were burnt black, and whose hair was
bleached white, by the influence of the sun, had a look and manner of
life and interest. It seemed, upon the whole, as if poverty, and
indolence, its too frequent companion, were combining to depress the
natural genius and acquired information of a hardy, intelligent, and
reflecting peasantry.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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