Edward Waverley, the Friend of the Sons of Ivor
'Callum,' said the Chief, 'call Shemus an Snachad' (James of the Needle). This was the hereditary tailor of Vich lan Vohr. 'Shemus, Mr. Waverley is to wear the cath dath (battle colour, or tartan); his trews must be ready in four hours. You know the measure of a well-made man—two double nails to the small of the leg—'
'Eleven from haunch to heel, seven round the waist. I give your honour leave to hang Shemus, if there's a pair of sheers in the Highlands that has a baulder sneck than her's ain at the cumadh an truais' (shape of the trews).
'Get a plaid of Mac-Ivor tartan and sash,' continued the Chieftain, 'and a blue bonnet of the Prince's pattern, at Mr. Mouat's in the Crames. My short green coat, with silver lace and silver buttons, will fit him exactly, and I have never worn it. Tell Ensign Maccombich to pick out a handsome target from among mine. The Prince has given Mr. Waverley broadsword and pistols, I will furnish him with a dirk and purse; add but a pair of low- heeled shoes, and then, my dear Edward (turning to him), you will be a complete son of Ivor.'
…
Our hero having now fairly assumed the 'garb of old Gaul,' well calculated as it was to give an appearance of strength to a figure which, though tall and well-made, was rather elegant than robust, I hope my fair readers will excuse him if he looked at himself in the mirror more than once, and could not help acknowledging that the reflection seemed that of a very handsome young fellow. In fact, there was no disguising it. His light-brown hair—for he wore no periwig, notwithstanding the universal fashion of the time—became the bonnet which surmounted it. His person promised firmness and agility, to which the ample folds of the tartan added an air of dignity. His blue eye seemed of that kind,
Which melted in love, and which kindled in war;
and an air of bashfulness, which was in reality the effect of want of habitual intercourse with the world, gave interest to his features, without injuring their grace or intelligence.
'He's a pratty man, a very pratty man,' said Evan Dhu (now Ensign
Maccombich) to Fergus's buxom landlady.
'He's vera weel,' said the Widow Flockhart, 'but no naething sae weel-far'd as your colonel, ensign.'
-Sir Walter Scott, Waverley, or ‘Tis Sixty Years Since
I’ve wanted to do a series of portraits, for a long time, where I bring to life characters from novels I like based on their descriptions in the books, and now I’ve done my first one—Edward Waverley, the main character of Sir Walter Scott’s first novel, Waverley, an English gentleman who sided with Bonnie Prince Charlie in the Jacobite Uprising of 1745. In the course of his adventures, he befriends Fergus MacIvor, the chief of the Clan MacIvor, and gets adopted into the clan. For the rest of his life and beyond, he was known amongst the Highlanders as the “Friend of the Sons of Ivor.”
Here’s an alternate version without the plaid, so the rest of his outfit can be seen:
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Australia’s youngest gold medalist; 14- year- old Arisa Trew gets it done in the women’s park skateboarding.
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Olympic Skateboarder, 14, Whose Parents Promised Her a Pet Duck If She Won, Earns Gold Medal
Okay - this is adorable.
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