Old David Stuart was the picture of health–a personification of contentment. When I knew him, his years must have considerably exceeded threescore; but his good-natured face was as ruddy as health could make it; his hair, though mingled with grey, was as thick and strong as if he had been but twenty; his person was still muscular and active; and, moreover, he yet retained, in all their freshness, the feelings of his youth, and no small portion of the simplicity of his childhood.
Wilson’s Tales of the Borders and of Scotland Vol 23 by John Mackay Wilson
On looking over some Session papers which had belonged to Lord Kames, with the object, I confess, of getting hold of some facts–those entities called by Quintilian the bones of truth, the more by token, I fancy, that they so often stick in the throat–which might contribute to my legends, I came to some sheets whereon his lordship had written some hasty remarks, to the effect that the case Napier _versus_ Napier was the most curious puzzle that ever he had witnessed since he had taken his seat on the bench.