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.

Some such thoughts crossed Waverley's