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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/2693-0.txt b/2693-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..213c7da --- /dev/null +++ b/2693-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6831 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Greyfriars Bobby, by Eleanor Atkinson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Greyfriars Bobby + +Author: Eleanor Atkinson + +Posting Date: December 8, 2008 [EBook #2693] +Release Date: July, 2001 +Last Updated: March 14, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GREYFRIARS BOBBY *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteeer + + + + + +GREYFRIARS BOBBY + +By Eleanor Atkinson + + + + +I. + +When the time-gun boomed from Edinburgh Castle, Bobby gave a startled +yelp. He was only a little country dog--the very youngest and smallest +and shaggiest of Skye terriers--bred on a heathery slope of the Pentland +hills, where the loudest sound was the bark of a collie or the tinkle +of a sheep-bell. That morning he had come to the weekly market with Auld +Jock, a farm laborer, and the Grassmarket of the Scottish capital lay in +the narrow valley at the southern base of Castle Crag. Two hundred +feet above it the time-gun was mounted in the half-moon battery on an +overhanging, crescent-shaped ledge of rock. In any part of the city +the report of the one-o'clock gun was sufficiently alarming, but in +the Grassmarket it was an earth-rending explosion directly overhead. +It needed to be heard but once there to be registered on even a little +dog's brain. Bobby had heard it many times, and he never failed to yelp +a sharp protest at the outrage to his ears; but, as the gunshot was +always followed by a certain happy event, it started in his active +little mind a train of pleasant associations. + +In Bobby's day of youth, and that was in 1858, when Queen Victoria was a +happy wife and mother, with all her bairns about her knees in Windsor +or Balmoral, the Grassmarket of Edinburgh was still a bit of the Middle +Ages, as picturesquely decaying and Gothic as German Nuremberg. Beside +the classic corn exchange, it had no modern buildings. North and south, +along its greatest length, the sunken quadrangle was faced by tall, old, +timber-fronted houses of stone, plastered like swallows' nests to the +rocky slopes behind them. + +Across the eastern end, where the valley suddenly narrowed to the +ravine-like street of the Cowgate, the market was spanned by the +lofty, crowded arches of George IV Bridge. This high-hung, viaduct +thoroughfare, that carried a double line of buildings within its +parapet, leaped the gorge, from the tall, old, Gothic rookeries on High +Street ridge, just below the Castle esplanade. It cleared the roofs +of the tallest, oldest houses that swarmed up the steep banks from the +Cowgate, and ran on, by easy descent, to the main gateway of Greyfriars +kirkyard at the lower top of the southern rise. + +Greyfriars' two kirks formed together, under one continuous roof, a +long, low, buttressed building without tower or spire. The new kirk was +of Queen Anne's day, but the old kirk was built before ever the Pilgrims +set sail for America. It had been but one of several sacred buildings, +set in a monastery garden that sloped pleasantly to the open valley of +the Grassmarket, and looked up the Castle heights unhindered. In Bobby's +day this garden had shrunk to a long, narrow, high-piled burying-ground, +that extended from the rear of the line of buildings that fronted on the +market, up the slope, across the hilltop, and to where the land began +to fall away again, down the Burghmuir. From the Grassmarket, kirk and +kirkyard lay hidden behind and above the crumbling grandeur of noble +halls and mansions that had fallen to the grimiest tenements of +Edinburgh's slums. From the end of the bridge approach there was a +glimpse of massive walls, of pointed windows, and of monumental tombs +through a double-leafed gate of wrought iron, that was alcoved and +wedged in between the ancient guildhall of the candlemakers and a row of +prosperous little shops in Greyfriars Place. + +A rock-rimmed quarry pit, in the very heart of Old Edinburgh, the +Grassmarket was a place of historic echoes. The yelp of a little dog +there would scarce seem worthy of record. More in harmony with its +stirring history was the report of the time-gun. At one o'clock every +day, there was a puff of smoke high up in the blue or gray or squally +sky, then a deafening crash and a back fire fusillade of echoes. The +oldest frequenter of the market never got used to it. On Wednesday, as +the shot broke across the babel of shrill bargaining, every man in +the place jumped, and not one was quicker of recovery than wee Bobby. +Instantly ashamed, as an intelligent little dog who knew the import +of the gun should be, Bobby denied his alarm in a tiny pink yawn of +boredom. Then he went briskly about his urgent business of finding Auld +Jock. + +The market was closed. In five minutes the great open space was as empty +of living men as Greyfriars kirkyard on a week-day. Drovers and hostlers +disappeared at once into the cheap and noisy entertainment of the White +Hart Inn that fronted the market and set its squalid back against Castle +Rock. Farmers rapidly deserted it for the clean country. Dwellers in the +tenements darted up wynds and blind closes, climbed twisting turnpike +stairs to windy roosts under the gables, or they scuttled through noble +doors into foul courts and hallways. Beggars and pickpockets swarmed +under the arches of the bridge, to swell the evil smelling human river +that flowed at the dark and slimy bottom of the Cowgate. + +A chill November wind tore at the creaking iron cross of the Knights of +St. John, on the highest gable of the Temple tenements, that turned its +decaying back on the kirkyard of the Greyfriars. Low clouds were tangled +and torn on the Castle battlements. A few horses stood about, munching +oats from feed-boxes. Flocks of sparrows fluttered down from timbered +galleries and rocky ledges to feast on scattered grain. Swallows wheeled +in wide, descending spirals from mud villages under the cornices to +catch flies. Rats scurried out of holes and gleaned in the deserted corn +exchange. And 'round and 'round the empty market-place raced the frantic +little terrier in search of Auld Jock. + +Bobby knew, as well as any man, that it was the dinner hour. With the +time-gun it was Auld Jock's custom to go up to a snug little restaurant; +that was patronized chiefly by the decent poor small shopkeepers, +clerks, tenant farmers, and medical students living in cheap +lodgings--in Greyfriars Place. There, in Ye Olde Greyfriars +Dining-Rooms, owned by Mr. John Traill, and four doors beyond the +kirkyard gate, was a cozy little inglenook that Auld Jock and Bobby +had come to look upon as their own. At its back, above a recessed oaken +settle and a table, a tiny paned window looked up and over a retaining +wall into the ancient place of the dead. + +The view of the heaped-up and crowded mounds and thickets of old slabs +and throughstones, girt all about by time-stained monuments and vaults, +and shut in on the north and east by the backs of shops and lofty +slum tenements, could not be said to be cheerful. It suited Auld Jock, +however, for what mind he had was of a melancholy turn. From his place +on the floor, between his master's hob-nailed boots, Bobby could not see +the kirkyard, but it would not, in any case, have depressed his spirits. +He did not know the face of death and, a merry little ruffian of a +terrier, he was ready for any adventure. + +On the stone gate pillar was a notice in plain English that no dogs were +permitted in Greyfriars. As well as if he could read, Bobby knew +that the kirkyard was forbidden ground. He had learned that by bitter +experience. Once, when the little wicket gate that held the two tall +leaves ajar by day, chanced to be open, he had joyously chased a cat +across the graves and over the western wall onto the broad green lawn of +Heriot's Hospital. + +There the little dog's escapade bred other mischief, for Heriot's +Hospital was not a hospital at all, in the modern English sense of being +a refuge for the sick. Built and christened in a day when a Stuart king +reigned in Holyrood Palace, and French was spoken in the Scottish +court, Heriot's was a splendid pile of a charity school, all towers +and battlements, and cheerful color, and countless beautiful windows. +Endowed by a beruffed and doubleted goldsmith, “Jinglin' Geordie” + Heriot, who had “nae brave laddie o' his ain,” it was devoted to the +care and education of “puir orphan an' faderless boys.” There it +had stood for more than two centuries, in a spacious park, like the +country-seat of a Lowland laird, but hemmed in by sordid markets and +swarming slums. The region round about furnished an unfailing supply +of “puir orphan an' faderless boys” who were as light-hearted and +irresponsible as Bobby. + +Hundreds of the Heriot laddies were out in the noon recess, playing +cricket and leap-frog, when Bobby chased that unlucky cat over the +kirkyard wall. He could go no farther himself, but the laddies took up +the pursuit, yelling like Highland clans of old in a foray across the +border. The unholy din disturbed the sacred peace of the kirkyard. +Bobby dashed back, barking furiously, in pure exuberance of spirits. He +tumbled gaily over grassy hummocks, frisked saucily around terrifying +old mausoleums, wriggled under the most enticing of low-set table tombs +and sprawled, exhausted, but still happy and noisy, at Auld Jock's feet. + +It was a scandalous thing to happen in any kirkyard! The angry caretaker +was instantly out of his little stone lodge by the gate and taking Auld +Jock sharply to task for Bobby's misbehavior. The pious old shepherd, +shocked himself and publicly disgraced, stood, bonnet in hand, humbly +apologetic. Seeing that his master was getting the worst of it, Bobby +rushed into the fray, an animated little muff of pluck and fury, and +nipped the caretaker's shins. There was a howl of pain, and a “maist +michty” word that made the ancient tombs stand aghast. Master and dog +were hustled outside the gate and into a rabble of jeering slum gamin. + +What a to-do about a miserable cat! To Bobby there was no logic at all +in the denouement to this swift, exciting drama. But he understood Auld +Jock's shame and displeasure perfectly. Good-tempered as he was gay and +clever, the little dog took his punishment meekly, and he remembered +it. Thereafter, he passed the kirk yard gate decorously. If he saw a cat +that needed harrying he merely licked his little red chops--the outward +sign of a desperate self-control. And, a true sport, he bore no malice +toward the caretaker. + +During that first summer of his life Bobby learned many things. He +learned that he might chase rabbits, squirrels and moor-fowl, and +sea-gulls and whaups that came up to feed in plowed fields. Rats and +mice around byre and dairy were legitimate prey; but he learned that he +must not annoy sheep and sheep-dogs, nor cattle, horses and chickens. +And he discovered that, unless he hung close to Auld Jock's heels, his +freedom was in danger from a wee lassie who adored him. He was no lady's +lap-dog. From the bairnie's soft cosseting he aye fled to Auld Jock +and the rough hospitality of the sheep fold. Being exact opposites in +temperaments, but alike in tastes, Bobby and Auld Jock were inseparable. +In the quiet corner of Mr. Traill's crowded dining-room they spent the +one idle hour of the week together, happily. Bobby had the leavings of a +herring or haddie, for a rough little Skye will eat anything from smoked +fish to moor-fowl eggs, and he had the tidbit of a farthing bone to +worry at his leisure. Auld Jock smoked his cutty pipe, gazed at the fire +or into the kirk-yard, and meditated on nothing in particular. + +In some strange way that no dog could understand, Bobby had been +separated from Auld Jock that November morning. The tenant of Cauldbrae +farm had driven the cart in, himself, and that was unusual. Immediately +he had driven out again, leaving Auld Jock behind, and that was quite +outside Bobby's brief experience of life. Beguiled to the lofty and +coveted driver's seat where, with lolling tongue, he could view this +interesting world between the horse's ears, Bobby had been spirited out +of the city and carried all the way down and up to the hilltop toll-bar +of Fairmilehead. It could not occur to his loyal little heart that this +treachery was planned nor, stanch little democrat that he was, that +the farmer was really his owner, and that he could not follow a humbler +master of his own choosing. He might have been carried to the distant +farm, and shut safely in the byre with the cows for the night, but for +an incautious remark of the farmer. With the first scent of the native +heather the horse quickened his pace, and, at sight of the purple slopes +of the Pentlands looming homeward, a fond thought at the back of the +man's mind very naturally took shape in speech. + +“Eh, Bobby; the wee lassie wull be at the tap o' the brae to race ye +hame.” + +Bobby pricked his drop ears. Within a narrow limit, and concerning +familiar things, the understanding of human speech by these intelligent +little terriers is very truly remarkable. At mention of the wee lassie +he looked behind for his rough old friend and unfailing refuge. Auld +Jock's absence discovered, Bobby promptly dropped from the seat of honor +and from the cart tail, sniffed the smoke of Edinboro' town and faced +right about. To the farmer's peremptory call he returned the spicy +repartee of a cheerful bark. It was as much as to say: + +“Dinna fash yersel'! I ken what I'm aboot.” + +After an hour's hard run back over the dipping and rising country road +and a long quarter circuit of the city, Bobby found the high-walled, +winding way into the west end of the Grassmarket. To a human being +afoot there was a shorter cut, but the little dog could only retrace +the familiar route of the farm carts. It was a notable feat for a small +creature whose tufted legs were not more than six inches in length, +whose thatch of long hair almost swept the roadway and caught at every +burr and bramble, and who was still so young that his nose could not be +said to be educated. + +In the market-place he ran here and there through the crowd, hopefully +investigating narrow closes that were mere rifts in precipices of +buildings; nosing outside stairs, doorways, stables, bridge arches, +standing carts, and even hob-nailed boots. He yelped at the crash of the +gun, but it was another matter altogether that set his little heart to +palpitating with alarm. It was the dinner-hour, and where was Auld Jock? + +Ah! A happy thought: his master had gone to dinner! + +A human friend would have resented the idea of such base desertion +and sulked. But in a little dog's heart of trust there is no room for +suspicion. The thought simply lent wings to Bobby's tired feet. As +the market-place emptied he chased at the heels of laggards, up the +crescent-shaped rise of Candlemakers Row, and straight on to the +familiar dining-rooms. Through the forest of table and chair and human +legs he made his way to the back, to find a soldier from the Castle, in +smart red coat and polished boots, lounging in Auld Jock's inglenook. + +Bobby stood stock still for a shocked instant. Then he howled +dismally and bolted for the door. Mr. John Traill, the smooth-shaven, +hatchet-faced proprietor, standing midway in shirtsleeves and white +apron, caught the flying terrier between his legs and gave him a +friendly clap on the side. + +“Did you come by your ainsel' with a farthing in your silky-purse ear to +buy a bone, Bobby? Whaur's Auld Jock?” + +A fear may be crowded back into the mind and stoutly denied so long as +it is not named. At the good landlord's very natural question “Whaur's +Auld Jock?” there was the shape of the little dog's fear that he had +lost his master. With a whimpering cry he struggled free. Out of the +door he went, like a shot. He tumbled down the steep curve and doubled +on his tracks around the market-place. + +At his onslaught, the sparrows rose like brown leaves on a gust of wind, +and drifted down again. A cold mist veiled the Castle heights. From +the stone crown of the ancient Cathedral of St. Giles, on High Street, +floated the melody of “The Bluebells of Scotland.” No day was too bleak +for bell-ringer McLeod to climb the shaking ladder in the windy tower +and play the music bells during the hour that Edinburgh dined. Bobby +forgot to dine that day, first in his distracted search, and then in his +joy of finding his master. + +For, all at once, in the very strangest place, in the very strangest +way, Bobby came upon Auld Jock. A rat scurrying out from a foul and +narrow passage that gave to the rear of the White Hart Inn, pointed the +little dog to a nook hitherto undiscovered by his curious nose. Hidden +away between the noisy tavern and the grim, island crag was the old +cock-fighting pit of a ruder day. There, in a broken-down carrier's +cart, abandoned among the nameless abominations of publichouse refuse, +Auld Jock lay huddled in his greatcoat of hodden gray and his shepherd's +plaid. On a bundle of clothing tied in a tartan kerchief for a pillow, +he lay very still and breathing heavily. + +Bobby barked as if he would burst his lungs. He barked so long, so loud, +and so furiously, running 'round and 'round the cart and under it and +yelping at every turn, that a slatternly scullery maid opened a door and +angrily bade him “no' to deave folk wi' 'is blatterin'.” Auld Jock she +did not see at all in the murky pit or, if she saw him, thought him some +drunken foreign sailor from Leith harbor. When she went in, she slammed +the door and lighted the gas. + +Whether from some instinct of protection of his helpless master in that +foul and hostile place, or because barking had proved to be of no use +Bobby sat back on his haunches and considered this strange, disquieting +thing. It was not like Auld Jock to sleep in the daytime, or so soundly, +at any time, that barking would not awaken him. A clever and resourceful +dog, Bobby crouched back against the farthest wall, took a running leap +to the top of the low boots, dug his claws into the stout, home knitted +stockings, and scrambled up over Auld Jock's legs into the cart. In an +instant he poked his little black mop of a wet muzzle into his master's +face and barked once, sharply, in his ear. + +To Bobby's delight Auld Jock sat up and blinked his eyes. The old eyes +were brighter, the grizzled face redder than was natural, but such +matters were quite outside of the little dog's ken. It was a dazed +moment before the man remembered that Bobby should not be there. +He frowned down at the excited little creature, who was wagging +satisfaction from his nose-tip to the end of his crested tail, in a +puzzled effort to remember why. + +“Eh, Bobby!” His tone was one of vague reproof. “Nae doot ye're fair +satisfied wi' yer ainsel'.” + +Bobby's feathered tail drooped, but it still quivered, all ready to wag +again at the slightest encouragement. Auld Jock stared at him stupidly, +his dizzy head in his hands. A very tired, very draggled little dog, +Bobby dropped beside his master, panting, subdued by the reproach, but +happy. His soft eyes, veiled by the silvery fringe that fell from his +high forehead, were deep brown pools of affection. Auld Jock forgot, by +and by, that Bobby should not be there, and felt only the comfort of his +companionship. + +“Weel, Bobby,” he began again, uncertainly. And then, because his +Scotch peasant reticence had been quite broken down by Bobby's shameless +devotion, so that he told the little dog many things that he cannily +concealed from human kind, he confided the strange weakness and +dizziness in the head that had overtaken him: “Auld Jock is juist fair +silly the day, bonny wee laddie.” + +Down came a shaking, hot old hand in a rough caress, and up a gallant +young tail to wave like a banner. All was right with the little dog's +world again. But it was plain, even to Bobby, that something had gone +wrong with Auld Jock. It was the man who wore the air of a culprit. A +Scotch laborer does not lightly confess to feeling “fair silly,” nor +sleep away the busy hours of daylight. The old man was puzzled and +humiliated by this discreditable thing. A human friend would have +understood his plight, led the fevered man out of that bleak and fetid +cul-de-sac, tucked him into a warm bed, comforted him with a hot drink, +and then gone swiftly for skilled help. Bobby knew only that his master +had unusual need of love. + +Very, very early a dog learns that life is not as simple a matter to his +master as it is to himself. There are times when he reads trouble, that +he cannot help or understand, in the man's eye and voice. Then he +can only look his love and loyalty, wistfully, as if he felt his own +shortcoming in the matter of speech. And if the trouble is so great that +the master forgets to eat his dinner; forgets, also, the needs of his +faithful little friend, it is the dog's dear privilege to bear neglect +and hunger without complaint. Therefore, when Auld Jock lay down again +and sank, almost at once, into sodden sleep, Bobby snuggled in the +hollow of his master's arm and nuzzled his nose in his master's neck. + + + + +II. + +While the bells played “There Grows a Bonny Briarbush in Our Kale Yard,” + Auld Jock and Bobby slept. They slept while the tavern emptied itself +of noisy guests and clattering crockery was washed at the dingy, +gas-lighted windows that overlooked the cockpit. They slept while the +cold fell with the falling day and the mist was whipped into driving +rain. Almost a cave, between shelving rock and house wall, a gust of +wind still found its way in now and then. At a splash of rain Auld Jock +stirred uneasily in his sleep. Bobby merely sniffed the freshened air +with pleasure and curled himself up for another nap. + +No rain could wet Bobby. Under his rough outer coat, that was parted +along the back as neatly as the thatch along a cottage ridge-pole, was +a dense, woolly fleece that defied wind and rain, snow and sleet to +penetrate. He could not know that nature had not been as generous in +protecting his master against the weather. Although of a subarctic +breed, fitted to live shelterless if need be, and to earn his living by +native wit, Bobby had the beauty, the grace, and the charming manners of +a lady's pet. In a litter of prick-eared, wire-haired puppies Bobby was +a “sport.” + +It is said that some of the ships of the Spanish Armada, with French +poodles in the officers' cabins, were blown far north and west, and +broken up on the icy coasts of The Hebrides and Skye. Some such crossing +of his far-away ancestry, it would seem, had given a greater length +and a crisp wave to Bobby's outer coat, dropped and silkily fringed his +ears, and powdered his useful, slate-gray color with silver frost. But +he had the hardiness and intelligence of the sturdier breed, and the +instinct of devotion to the working master. So he had turned from a +soft-hearted bit lassie of a mistress, and the cozy chimney corner of +the farm-house kitchen, and linked his fortunes with this forlorn old +laborer. + +A grizzled, gnarled little man was Auld Jock, of tough fiber, but +worn out at last by fifty winters as a shepherd on the bleak hills +of Midlothian and Fife, and a dozen more in the low stables and +storm-buffeted garrets of Edinburgh. He had come into the world unnoted +in a shepherd's lonely cot. With little wit of mind or skill of hand he +had been a common tool, used by this master and that for the roughest +tasks, when needed, put aside, passed on, and dropped out of mind. +Nothing ever belonged to the man but his scant earnings. Wifeless, +cotless, bairnless, he had slept, since early boyhood, under strange +roofs, eaten the bread of the hireling, and sat dumb at other men's +firesides. If he had another name it had been forgotten. In youth he was +Jock; in age, Auld Jock. + +In his sixty-third summer there was a belated blooming in Auld Jock's +soul. Out of some miraculous caprice Bobby lavished on him a riotous +affection. Then up out of the man's subconscious memory came words +learned from the lips of a long-forgotten mother. They were words not +meant for little dogs at all, but for sweetheart, wife and bairn. Auld +Jock used them cautiously, fearing to be overheard, for the matter was +a subject of wonder and rough jest at the farm. He used them when Bobby +followed him at the plow-tail or scampered over the heather with him +behind the flocks. He used them on the market-day journeyings, and on +summer nights, when the sea wind came sweetly from the broad Firth and +the two slept, like vagabonds, on a haycock under the stars. The purest +pleasure Auld Jock ever knew was the taking of a bright farthing from +his pocket to pay for Bobby's delectable bone in Mr. Traill's place. + +Given what was due him that morning and dismissed for the season to +find such work as he could in the city, Auld Jock did not question the +farmer's right to take Bobby “back hame.” Besides, what could he do with +the noisy little rascal in an Edinburgh lodging? But, duller of wit than +usual, feeling very old and lonely, and shaky on his legs, and dizzy in +his head, Auld Jock parted with Bobby and with his courage, together. +With the instinct of the dumb animal that suffers, he stumbled into +the foul nook and fell, almost at once, into a heavy sleep. Out of that +Bobby roused him but briefly. + +Long before his master awoke, Bobby finished his series of refreshing +little naps, sat up, yawned, stretched his short, shaggy legs, sniffed +at Auld Jock experimentally, and trotted around the bed of the cart on +a tour of investigation. This proving to be of small interest and no +profit, he lay down again beside his master, nose on paws, and waited +Auld Jock's pleasure patiently. A sweep of drenching rain brought the +old man suddenly to his feet and stumbling into the market place. The +alert little dog tumbled about him, barking ecstatically. The fever was +gone and Auld Jock's head quite clear; but in its place was a weakness, +an aching of the limbs, a weight on the chest, and a great shivering. + +Although the bell of St. Giles was just striking the hour of five, it +was already entirely dark. A lamp-lighter, with ladder and torch, was +setting a double line of gas jets to flaring along the lofty parapets +of the bridge. If the Grassmarket was a quarry pit by day, on a night +of storm it was the bottom of a reservoir. The height of the walls was +marked by a luminous crown from many lights above the Castle head, and +by a student's dim candle, here and there, at a garret window. The huge +bulk of the bridge cast a shadow, velvet black, across the eastern half +of the market. + +Had not Bobby gone before and barked, and run back, again and again, +and jumped up on Auld Jock's legs, the man might never have won his way +across the drowned place, in the inky blackness and against the slanted +blast of icy rain. When he gained the foot of Candlemakers Row, a +crescent of tall, old houses that curved upward around the lower end +of Greyfriars kirkyard, water poured upon him from the heavy timbered +gallery of the Cunzie Neuk, once the royal mint. The carting office that +occupied the street floor was closed, or Auld Jock would have sought +shelter there. He struggled up the rise, made slippery by rain and +grime. Then, as the street turned southward in its easy curve, there was +some shelter from the house walls. But Auld Jock was quite exhausted +and incapable of caring for himself. In the ancient guildhall of the +candlemakers, at the top of the Row, was another carting office and +Harrow Inn, a resort of country carriers. The man would have gone in +there where he was quite unknown or, indeed, he might even have lain +down in the bleak court that gave access to the tenements above, but for +Bobby's persistent and cheerful barking, begging and nipping. + +“Maister, maister!” he said, as plainly as a little dog could speak, +“dinna bide here. It's juist a stap or two to food an' fire in' the cozy +auld ingleneuk.” + +And then, the level roadway won at last, there was the railing of the +bridge-approach to cling to, on the one hand, and the upright bars of +the kirkyard gate on the other. By the help of these and the urging of +wee Bobby, Auld Jock came the short, steep way up out of the market, to +the row of lighted shops in Greyfriars Place. + +With the wind at the back and above the housetops, Mr. Traill stood +bare-headed in a dry haven of peace in his doorway, firelight behind +him, and welcome in his shrewd gray eyes. If Auld Jock had shown any +intention of going by, it is not impossible that the landlord of Ye Olde +Greyfriars Dining-Rooms might have dragged him in bodily. The storm had +driven all his customers home. For an hour there had not been a soul in +the place to speak to, and it was so entirely necessary for John Traill +to hear his own voice that he had been known, in such straits, to talk +to himself. Auld Jock was not an inspiring auditor, but a deal better +than naething; and, if he proved hopeless, entertainment was to be found +in Bobby. So Mr. Traill bustled in before his guests, poked the open +fire into leaping flames, and heaped it up skillfully at the back with +fresh coals. The good landlord turned from his hospitable task to find +Auld Jock streaming and shaking on the hearth. + +“Man, but you're wet!” he exclaimed. He hustled the old shepherd out of +his dripping plaid and greatcoat and spread them to the blaze. Auld Jock +found a dry, knitted Tam-o'-Shanter bonnet in his little bundle and set +it on his head. It was a moment or two before he could speak without the +humiliating betrayal of chattering teeth. + +“Ay, it's a misty nicht,” he admitted, with caution. + +“Misty! Man, it's raining like all the seven deils were abroad.” Having +delivered himself of this violent opinion, Mr. Traill fell into his +usual philosophic vein. “I have sma' patience with the Scotch way of +making little of everything. If Noah had been a Lowland Scot he'd 'a' +said the deluge was juist fair wet.”' + +He laughed at his own wit, his thin-featured face and keen gray eyes +lighting up to a kindliness that his brusque speech denied in vain. +He had a fluency of good English at command that he would have thought +ostentatious to use in speaking with a simple country body. + +Auld Jock stared at Mr. Traill and pondered the matter. By and by he +asked: “Wasna the deluge fair wet?” + +The landlord sighed but, brought to book like that, admitted that +it was. Conversation flagged, however, while he busied himself with +toasting a smoked herring, and dragging roasted potatoes from the little +iron oven that was fitted into the brickwork of the fireplace beside the +grate. + +Bobby was attending to his own entertainment. The familiar place wore a +new and enchanting aspect, and needed instant exploration. By day it was +fitted with tables, picketed by chairs and all manner of boots. Noisy +and crowded, a little dog that wandered about there was liable to be +trodden upon. On that night of storm it was a vast, bright place, so +silent one could hear the ticking of the wag-at-the-wa' clock, the crisp +crackling of the flames, and the snapping of the coals. The uncovered +deal tables were set back in a double line along one wall, with the +chairs piled on top, leaving a wide passage of freshly scrubbed and +sanded oaken floor from the door to the fireplace. Firelight danced on +the dark old wainscoting and high, carved overmantel, winked on rows of +drinking mugs and metal covers over cold meats on the buffet, and even +picked out the gilt titles on the backs of a shelf of books in Mr. +Traill's private corner behind the bar. + +Bobby shook himself on the hearth to free his rain-coat of surplus +water. To the landlord's dry “We're no' needing a shower in the house. +Lie down, Bobby,” he wagged his tail politely, as a sign that he heard. +But, as Auld Jock did not repeat the order, he ignored it and scampered +busily about the room, leaving little trails of wet behind him. + +This grill-room of Traill's place was more like the parlor of a country +inn, or a farm-house kitchen if there had been a built-in bed or two, +than a restaurant in the city. There, a humble man might see his herring +toasted, his bannocks baked on the oven-top, or his tea brewed to his +liking. On such a night as this the landlord would pull the settle out +of the inglenook to the hearth, set before the solitary guest a small table, +and keep the kettle on the hob. + +“Spread yoursel' on both sides o' the fire, man. There'll be nane to +keep us company, I'm thinking. Ilka man that has a roof o' his ain will +be wearing it for a bonnet the nicht.” + +As there was no answer to this, the skilled conversational angler +dropped a bit of bait that the wariest man must rise to. + +“That's a vera intelligent bit dog, Auld Jock. He was here with the +time-gun spiering for you. When he didna find you he greeted like a +bairn.” + +Auld Jock, huddled in the corner of the settle, so near the fire that +his jacket smoked, took so long a time to find an answer that Mr. Traill +looked at him keenly as he set the wooden plate and pewter mug on the +table. + +“Man, you're vera ill,” he cried, sharply. In truth he was shocked and +self-accusing because he had not observed Auld Jock's condition before. + +“I'm no' so awfu' ill,” came back in irritated denial, as if he had been +accused of some misbehavior. + +“Weel, it's no' a dry herrin' ye'll hae in my shop the nicht. It's a hot +mutton broo wi' porridge in it, an' bits o' meat to tak' the cauld oot +o' yer auld banes.” + +And there, the plate was whisked away, and the cover lifted from a +bubbling pot, and the kettle was over the fire for the brewing of tea. +At a peremptory order the soaked boots and stockings were off, and dry +socks found in the kerchief bundle. Auld Jock was used to taking orders +from his superiors, and offered no resistance to being hustled after +this manner into warmth and good cheer. Besides, who could have +withstood that flood of homely speech on which the good landlord came +right down to the old shepherd's humble level? Such warm feeling was +established that Mr. Traill quite forgot his usual caution and certain +well-known prejudices of old country bodies. + +“Noo,” he said cheerfully, as he set the hot broth on the table, “ye +maun juist hae a doctor.” + +A doctor is the last resort of the unlettered poor. The very threat of +one to the Scotch peasant of a half-century ago was a sentence of death. +Auld Jock blanched, and he shook so that he dropped his spoon. Mr. +Traill hastened to undo the mischief. + +“It's no' a doctor ye'll be needing, ava, but a bit dose o' physic an' a +bed in the infirmary a day or twa.” + +“I wullna gang to the infairmary. It's juist for puir toon bodies that +are aye ailin' an' deein'.” Fright and resentment lent the silent old +man an astonishing eloquence for the moment. “Ye wadna gang to the +infairmary yer ainsel', an' tak' charity.” + +“Would I no'? I would go if I so much as cut my sma' finger; and I would +let a student laddie bind it up for me.” + +“Weel, ye're a saft ane,” said Auld Jock. + +It was a terrible word--“saft!” John Traill flushed darkly, and relapsed +into discouraged silence. Deep down in his heart he knew that a regiment +of soldiers from the Castle could not take him alive, a free patient, +into the infirmary. + +But what was one to do but “lee,” right heartily, for the good of this +very sick, very poor, homeless old man on a night of pitiless storm? +That he had “lee'd” to no purpose and got a “saft” name for it was a +blow to his pride. + +Hearing the clatter of fork and spoon, Bobby trotted from behind the bar +and saved the day of discomfiture. Time for dinner, indeed! Up he came +on his hind legs and politely begged his master for food. It was the +prettiest thing he could do, and the landlord delighted in him. + +“Gie 'im a penny plate o' the gude broo,” said Auld Jock, and he took +the copper coin from his pocket to pay for it. He forgot his own meal +in watching the hungry little creature eat. Warmed and softened by Mr. +Traill's kindness, and by the heartening food, Auld Jock betrayed a +thought that had rankled in the depths of his mind all day. + +“Bobby isna ma ain dog.” His voice was dull and unhappy. + +Ah, here was misery deeper than any physical ill! The penny was his, a +senseless thing; but, poor, old, sick, hameless and kinless, the little +dog that loved and followed him “wasna his ain.” To hide the huskiness +in his own voice Mr. Traill relapsed into broad, burry Scotch. + +“Dinna fash yersel', man. The wee beastie is maist michty fond o' ye, +an' ilka dog aye chooses 'is ain maister.” + +Auld Jock shook his head and gave a brief account of Bobby's perversity. +On the very next market-day the little dog must be restored to the +tenant of Cauldbrae farm and, if necessary, tied in the cart. It was +unlikely, young as he was, that he would try to find his way back, all +the way from near the top of the Pentlands. In a day or two he would +forget Auld Jock. + +“I canna say it wullna be sair partin'--” And then, seeing the sympathy +in the landlord's eye and fearing a disgraceful breakdown, Auld Jock +checked his self betrayal. During the talk Bobby stood listening. At the +abrupt ending, he put his shagged paws up on Auld Jock's knee, wistfully +inquiring about this emotional matter. Then he dropped soberly, and +slunk away under his master's chair. + +“Ay, he kens we're talkin' aboot 'im.” + +“He's a knowing bit dog. Have you attended to his sairous education, +man?” + +“Nae, he's ower young.” + +“Young is aye the time to teach a dog or a bairn that life is no' all +play. Man, you should put a sma' terrier at the vermin an' mak' him +usefu'.” + +“It's eneugh, gin he's gude company for the wee lassie wha's fair fond +o' 'im,” Auld Jock answered, briefly. This was a strange sentiment from +the work-broken old man who, for himself, would have held ornamental +idleness sinful. He finished his supper in brooding silence. At last he +broke out in a peevish irritation that only made his grief at parting +with Bobby more apparent to an understanding man like Mr. Traill. + +“I dinna ken what to do wi' 'im i' an Edinburgh lodgin' the nicht. +The auld wifie I lodge wi' is dour by the ordinar', an' wadna bide 'is +blatterin'. I couldna get 'im past 'er auld een, an' thae terriers are +aye barkin' aboot naethin' ava.” + +Mr. Traill's eyes sparkled at recollection of an apt literary story +to which Dr. John Brown had given currency. Like many Edinburgh +shopkeepers, Mr. Traill was a man of superior education and an +omnivorous reader. And he had many customers from the near-by University +to give him a fund of stories of Scotch writers and other worthies. + +“You have a double plaid, man?” + +“Ay. Ilka shepherd's got a twa-fold plaidie.” It seemed a foolish +question to Auld Jock, but Mr. Traill went on blithely. + +“There's a pocket in the plaid--ane end left open at the side to mak' a +pouch? Nae doubt you've carried mony a thing in that pouch?” + +“Nae, no' so mony. Juist the new-born lambs.” + +“Weel, Sir Walter had a shepherd's plaid, and there was a bit lassie he +was vera fond of Syne, when he had been at the writing a' the day, and +was aff his heid like, with too mony thoughts, he'd go across the town +and fetch the bairnie to keep him company. She was a weel-born lassie, +sax or seven years auld, and sma' of her age, but no' half as sma' as +Bobby, I'm thinking.” He stopped to let this significant comparison sink +into Auld Jock's mind. “The lassie had nae liking for the unmannerly +wind and snaw of Edinburgh. So Sir Walter just happed her in the pouch +of his plaid, and tumbled her out, snug as a lamb and nane the wiser, in +the big room wha's walls were lined with books.” + +Auld Jock betrayed not a glimmer of intelligence as to the personal +bearing of the story, but he showed polite interest. “I ken naethin' +aboot Sir Walter or ony o' the grand folk.” Mr. Traill sighed, cleared +the table in silence, and mended the fire. It was ill having no one to +talk to but a simple old body who couldn't put two and two together and +make four. + +The landlord lighted his pipe meditatively, and he lighted his cruisey +lamp for reading. Auld Jock was dry and warm again; oh, very, very warm, +so that he presently fell into a doze. The dining-room was so compassed +on all sides but the front by neighboring house and kirkyard wall and by +the floors above, that only a murmur of the storm penetrated it. It was +so quiet, indeed, that a tiny, scratching sound in a distant corner was +heard distinctly. A streak of dark silver, as of animated mercury, Bobby +flashed past. A scuffle, a squeak, and he was back again, dropping a big +rat at the landlord's feet and, wagging his tail with pride. + +“Weel done, Bobby! There's a bite and a bone for you here ony time +o' day you call for it. Ay, a sensible bit dog will attend to his ain +education and mak' himsel' usefu'.” + +Mr. Traill felt a sudden access of warm liking for the attractive little +scrap of knowingness and pluck. He patted the tousled head, but Bobby +backed away. He had no mind to be caressed by any man beside his +master. After a moment the landlord took “Guy Mannering” down from the +book-shelf. Knowing his “Waverley” by heart, he turned at once to the +passages about Dandie Dinmont and his terriers--Mustard and Pepper and +other spicy wee rascals. + +“Ay, terriers are sonsie, leal dogs. Auld Jock will have ane true +mourner at his funeral. I would no' mind if--” + +On impulse he got up and dropped a couple of hard Scotch buns, very good +dog-biscuit, indeed, into the pocket of Auld Jock's greatcoat for Bobby. +The old man might not be able to be out the morn. With the thought in +his mind that some one should keep a friendly eye on the man, he mended +the fire with such an unnecessary clattering of the tongs that Auld Jock +started from his sleep with a cry. + +“Whaur is it you have your lodging, Jock?” the landlord asked, sharply, +for the man looked so dazed that his understanding was not to be reached +easily. He got the indefinite information that it was at the top of one +of the tall, old tenements “juist aff the Coogate.” + +“A lang climb for an auld man,” John Traill said, compassionately; then, +optimistic as usual, “but it's a lang climb or a foul smell, in the poor +quarters of Edinburgh.” + +“Ay. It's weel aboon the fou' smell.” With some comforting thought that +he did not confide to Mr. Traill but that ironed lines out of his old +face, Auld Jock went to sleep again. Well, the landlord reflected, he +could remain there by the fire until the closing hour or later, if need +be, and by that time the storm might ease a bit, so that he could get to +his lodging without another wetting. + +For an hour the place was silent, except for the falling clinkers from +the grate, the rustling of book-leaves, and the plumping of rain on the +windows, when the wind shifted a point. Lost in the romance, Mr. Traill +took no note of the passing time or of his quiet guests until he felt a +little tug at his trouser-leg. + +“Eh, laddie?” he questioned. Up the little dog rose in the begging +attitude. Then, with a sharp bark, he dashed back to his master. + +Something was very wrong, indeed. Auld Jock had sunk down in his seat. +His arms hung helplessly over the end and back of the settle, and his +legs were sprawled limply before him. The bonnet that he always wore, +outdoors and in, had fallen from his scant, gray locks, and his head had +dropped forward on his chest. His breathing was labored, and he muttered +in his sleep. + +In a moment Mr. Traill was inside his own greatcoat, storm boots and +bonnet. At the door he turned back. The shop was unguarded. Although +Greyfriars Place lay on the hilltop, with the sanctuary of the kirkyard +behind it, and the University at no great distance in front, it was but +a step up from the thief-infested gorge of the Cowgate. The landlord +locked his moneydrawer, pushed his easy-chair against it, and roused +Auld Jock so far as to move him over from the settle. The chief +responsibility he laid on the anxious little dog, that watched his every +movement. + +“Lie down, Bobby, and mind Auld Jock. And you're no' a gude dog if you +canna bark to waken the dead in the kirkyard, if ony strange body comes +about.” + +“Whaur are ye gangin'?” cried Auld Jock. He was wide awake, with +burning, suspicious eyes fixed on his host. + +“Sit you down, man, with your back to my siller. I'm going for a +doctor.” The noise of the storm, as he opened the door, prevented his +hearing the frightened protest: + +“Dinna ging!” + +The rain had turned to sleet, and Mr. Traill had trouble in keeping his +feet. He looked first into the famous Book Hunter's Stall next door, on +the chance of finding a medical student. The place was open, but it had +no customers. He went on to the bridge, but there the sheriff's court, +the Martyr's church, the society halls and all the smart shops were +closed, their dark fronts lighted fitfully by flaring gas-lamps. The +bitter night had driven all Edinburgh to private cover. + +From the rear came a clear whistle. Some Heriot laddie who, being not +entirely a “puir orphan,” but only “faderless” and, therefore, living +outside the school with his mother, had been kept after nightfall +because of ill-prepared lessons or misbehavior. Mr. Traill turned, +passed his own door, and went on southward into Forest Road, that +skirted the long arm of the kirkyard. + +From the Burghmuir, all the way to the Grassmarket and the Cowgate, was +downhill. So, with arms winged, and stout legs spread wide and braced, +Geordie Ross was sliding gaily homeward, his knitted tippet a gallant +pennant behind. Here was a Mercury for an urgent errand. + +“Laddie, do you know whaur's a doctor who can be had for a shulling or +two for a poor auld country body in my shop?” + +“Is he so awfu' ill?” Geordie asked with the morbid curiosity of lusty +boyhood. + +“He's a' that. He's aff his heid. Run, laddie, and dinna be standing +there wagging your fule tongue for naething.” + +Geordie was off with speed across the bridge to High Street. Mr. Traill +struggled back to his shop, against wind and treacherous ice, thinking +what kind of a bed might be contrived for the sick man for the night. In +the morning the daft auld body could be hurried, willy-nilly, to a bed +in the infirmary. As for wee Bobby he wouldn't mind if-- + +And there he ran into his own wide-flung door. A gale blew through the +hastily deserted place. Ashes were scattered about the hearth, and the +cruisey lamp flared in the gusts. Auld Jock and Bobby were gone. + + + + +III. + +Although dismayed and self-accusing for having frightened Auld Jock into +taking flight by his incautious talk of a doctor, not for an instant did +the landlord of Greyfriars Dining-Rooms entertain the idea of following +him. The old man had only to cross the street and drop down the incline +between the bridge approach and the ancient Chapel of St. Magdalen to +be lost in the deepest, most densely peopled, and blackest gorge in +Christendom. + +Well knowing that he was safe from pursuit, Auld Jock chuckled as he +gained the last low level. Fever lent him a brief strength, and the cold +damp was grateful to his hot skin. None were abroad in the Cowgate; and +that was lucky for, in this black hole of Edinburgh, even so old and +poor a man was liable to be set upon by thieves, on the chance of a few +shillings or pence. + +Used as he was to following flocks up treacherous braes and through +drifted glens, and surefooted as a collie, Auld Jock had to pick his way +carefully over the slimy, ice-glazed cobble stones of the Cowgate. He +could see nothing. The scattered gas-lamps, blurred by the wet, only +made a timbered gallery or stone stairs stand out here and there or +lighted up a Gothic gargoyle to a fantastic grin. The street lay so deep +and narrow that sleet and wind wasted little time in finding it out, +but roared and rattled among the gables, dormers and chimney-stacks +overhead. Happy in finding his master himself again, and sniffing fresh +adventure, Bobby tumbled noisily about Auld Jock's feet until reproved. +And here was strange going. Ancient and warring smells confused and +insulted the little country dog's nose. After a few inquiring and +protesting barks Bobby fell into a subdued trot at Auld Jock's heels. + +To this shepherd in exile the romance of Old Edinburgh was a sealed +book. It was, indeed, difficult for the most imaginative to believe +that the Cowgate was once a lovely, wooded ravine, with a rustic burn +babbling over pebbles at its bottom, and along the brook a straggling +path worn smooth by cattle on their driven way to the Grassmarket. Then, +when the Scottish nobility was crowded out of the piled-up mansions, on +the sloping ridge of High Street that ran the mile from the Castle to +Holyrood Palace, splendor camped in the Cowgate, in villas set in fair +gardens, and separated by hedge-rows in which birds nested. + +In time this ravine, too, became overbuilt. Houses tumbled down both +slopes to the winding cattle path, and the burn was arched over to make +a thoroughfare. Laterally, the buildings were crowded together, until +the upper floors were pushed out on timber brackets for light and air. +Galleries, stairs and jutting windows were added to outer walls, and the +mansions climbed, story above story, until the Cowgate was an undercut +canon, such as is worn through rock by the rivers of western America. +Lairds and leddies, powdered, jeweled and satin-shod, were borne in +sedan chairs down ten flights of stone stairs and through torch-lit +courts and tunnel streets, to routs in Castle or Palace and to tourneys +in the Grassmarket. + +From its low situation the Cowgate came in the course of time to smell +to heaven, and out of it was a sudden exodus of grand folk to the +northern hills. The lowest level was given over at once to the poor and +to small trade. The wynds and closes that climbed the southern slope +were eagerly possessed by divines, lawyers and literary men because of +their nearness to the University. Long before Bobby's day the well-to-do +had fled from the Cowgate wynds to the hilltop streets and open squares +about the colleges. A few decent working-men remained in the decaying +houses, some of which were at least three centuries old. But there +swarmed in upon, and submerged them, thousands of criminals, beggars, +and the miserably poor and degraded of many nationalities. Businesses +that fatten on misfortune--the saloon, pawn, old clothes and cheap food +shops-lined the squalid Cowgate. Palaces were cut up into honeycombs of +tall tenements. Every stair was a crowded highway; every passage a +place of deposit for filth; almost every room sheltered a half famished +family, in darkness and ancient dirt. Grand and great, pious and wise, +decent, wretched and terrible folk, of every sort, had preceded Auld +Jock to his lodging in a steep and narrow wynd, and nine gusty flights +up under a beautiful, old Gothic gable. + +A wrought-iron lantern hanging in an arched opening, lighted the +entrance to the wynd. With a hand outstretched to either wall, Auld Jock +felt his way up. Another lantern marked a sculptured doorway that gave +to the foul court of the tenement. No sky could be seen above the open +well of the court, and the carved, oaken banister of the stairs had +to be felt for and clung to by one so short of breath. On the seventh +landing, from the exertion of the long climb, Auld Jock was shaken +into helplessness, and his heart set to pounding, by a violent fit of +coughing. Overhead a shutter was slammed back, and an angry voice bade +him stop “deaving folk.” + +The last two flights ascended within the walls. The old man stumbled +into the pitch-black, stifling passage and sat down on the lowest step +to rest. On the landing above he must encounter the auld wifie of a +landlady, rousing her, it might be, and none too good-tempered, from +sleep. Unaware that he added to his master's difficulties, Bobby leaped +upon him and licked the beloved face that he could not see. + +“Eh, laddie, I dinna ken what to do wi' ye. We maun juist hae to sleep +oot.” It did not occur to Auld Jock that he could abandon the little +dog. And then there drifted across his memory a bit of Mr. Traill's talk +that, at the time, had seemed to no purpose: “Sir Walter happed the +wee lassie in the pocket of his plaid--” He slapped his knee in silent +triumph. In the dark he found the broad, open end of the plaid, and the +rough, excited head of the little dog. + +“A hap, an' a stap, an' a loup, an' in ye gang. Loup in, laddie.” + +Bobby jumped into the pocket and turned 'round and 'round. His little +muzzle opened for a delighted bark at this original play, but Auld Jock +checked him. + +“Cuddle doon noo, an' lie canny as pussy.” With a deft turn he brought +the weighted end of the plaid up under his arm so there would be no +betraying drag. “We'll pu' the wool ower the auld wifie's een,” he +chuckled. + +He mounted the stairs almost blithely, and knocked on one of the three +narrow doors that opened on the two-by-eight landing. It was opened a +few inches, on a chain, and a sordid old face, framed in straggling +gray locks and a dirty mutch cap, peered suspiciously at him through the +crevice. + +Auld Jock had his money in hand--a shilling and a sixpence--to pay for a +week's lodging. He had slept in this place for several winters, and the +old woman knew him well, but she held his coins to the candle and bit +them with her teeth to test them. Without a word of greeting she shoved +the key to the sleeping-closet he had always fancied, through the crack +in the door, and pointed to a jug of water at the foot of the attic +stairs. On the proffer of a halfpenny she gave him a tallow candle, +lighted it at her own and fitted it into the neck of a beer bottle. + +“Ye hae a cauld.” she said at last, with some hostility. “Gin ye wauken +yer neebors yell juist hae to fecht it oot wi' 'em.” + +“Ay, I ken a' that,” Auld Jock answered. He smothered a cough in his +chest with such effort that it threw him into a perspiration. In some +way, with the jug of water and the lighted candle in his hands and the +hidden terrier under one arm, the old man mounted the eighteen-inch +wide, walled-in attic stairs and unlocked the first of a number of +narrow doors on the passage at the top. + +“Weel aboon the fou' smell,” indeed; “weel worth the lang climb!” Around +the loose frames of two wee southward-looking dormer windows, that +jutted from the slope of the gable, came a gush of rain-washed air. Auld +Jock tumbled Bobby, warm and happy and “nane the wiser,” out into the +cold cell of a room that was oh, so very, very different from the high, +warm, richly colored library of Sir Walter! This garret closet in the +slums of Edinburgh was all of cut stone, except for the worn, oaken +floor, a flimsy, modern door, and a thin, board partition on one side +through which a “neebor” could be heard snoring. Filling all of the +outer wall between the peephole, leaded windows and running-up to the +slope of the ceiling, was a great fireplace of native white freestone, +carved into fluted columns, foliated capitals, and a flat pediment of +purest classic lines. The ballroom of a noble of Queen Mary's day +had been cut up into numerous small sleeping closets, many of them +windowless, and were let to the chance lodger at threepence the night. +Here, where generations of dancing toes had been warmed, the chimney +vent was bricked up, and a boxed-in shelf fitted, to serve for a bed, +a seat and a table, for such as had neither time nor heart for dancing. +For the romantic history and the beauty of it, Auld Jock had no mind at +all. But, ah! he had other joy often missed by the more fortunate. + +“Be canny, Bobby,” he cautioned again. + +The sagacious little dog understood, and pattered about the place +silently. Exhausting it in a moment, and very plainly puzzled and bored, +he sat on his haunches, yawned wide, and looked up inquiringly to his +master. Auld Jock set the jug and the candle on the floor and slipped +off his boots. He had no wish to “wauken 'is neebors.” With nervous +haste he threw back one of the windows on its hinges, reached across +the wide stone ledge and brought in-wonder of wonders, in such a place a +tiny earthen pot of heather! + +“Is it no' a bonny posie?” he whispered to Bobby. With this cherished +bit of the country that he had left behind him the April before in his +hands, he sat down in the fireplace bed and lifted Bobby beside him. +He sniffed at the red tuft of purple bloom fondly, and his old face +blossomed into smiles. It was the secret thought of this, and of the +hillward outlook from the little windows, that had ironed the lines +from his face in Mr. Traill's dining-room. Bobby sniffed at the starved +plant, too, and wagged his tail with pleasure, for a dog's keenest +memories are recorded by the nose. + +Overhead, loose tiles and finials rattled in the wind, that was dying +away in fitful gusts; but Auld Jock heard nothing. In fancy he was away +on the braes, in the shy sun and wild wet of April weather. Shepherds +were shouting, sheepdogs barking, ewes bleating, and a wee puppy, still +unnamed, scampering at his heels in the swift, dramatic days of lambing +time. And so, presently, when the forlorn hope of the little pot had +been restored to the ledge, master and dog were in tune with the open +country, and began a romp such as they often had indulged in behind the +byre on a quiet, Sabbath afternoon. + +They had learned to play there like two well-brought-up children, in +pantomime, so as not to scandalize pious countryfolk. Now, in obedience +to a gesture, a nod, a lifted eyebrow, Bobby went through all his pretty +tricks, and showed how far his serious education had progressed.. He +rolled over and over, begged, vaulted the low hurdle of his master's +arm, and played “deid.” He scampered madly over imaginary pastures; +ran, straight as a string, along a stone wall; scrambled under a thorny +hedge; chased rabbits, and dug foxes out of holes; swam a burn, flushed +feeding curlews, and “froze” beside a rat-hole. When the excitement was +at its height and the little dog was bursting with exuberance, Auld +Jock forgot his caution. Holding his bonnet just out of reach, he cried +aloud: + +“Loup, Bobby!” + +Bobby jumped for the bonnet, missed it, jumped again and barked-the +high-pitched, penetrating yelp of the terrier. + +Instantly their little house of joy tumbled about their ears. There was +a pounding on the thin partition wall, an oath and a shout “Whaur's +the deil o' a dog?” Bobby flew at the insulting clamor, but Auld Jock +dragged him back roughly. In a voice made harsh by fear for his little +pet, he commanded: + +“Haud yer gab or they'll hae ye oot.” + +Bobby dropped like a shot, cringing at Auld Jock's feet. The most +sensitive of four-footed creatures in the world, the Skye terrier is +utterly abased by a rebuke from his master. The whole garret was soon in +an uproar of vile accusation and shrill denial that spread from cell to +cell. + +Auld Jock glowered down at Bobby with frightened eyes. In the winters he +had lodged there he had lived unmolested only because he had managed to +escape notice. Timid old country body that he was, he could not “fecht +it oot” with the thieves and beggars and drunkards of the Cowgate. By +and by the brawling died down. In the double row of little dens this one +alone was silent, and the offending dog was not located. + +But when the danger was past, Auld Jock's heart was pounding in his +chest. His legs gave way under him, when he got up to fetch the candle +from near the door and set it on a projecting brick in the fireplace. +By its light he began to read in a small pocket Bible the Psalm that had +always fascinated him because he had never been able to understand it. + +“The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.” + +So far it was plain and comforting. “He maketh me to lie down in green +pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters.” + +Nae, the pastures were brown, or purple and yellow with heather and +gorse. Rocks cropped out everywhere, and the peaty tarps were mostly +bleak and frozen. The broad Firth was ever ebbing and flowing with the +restless sea, and the burns bickering down the glens. The minister of +the little hill kirk had said once that in England the pastures were +green and the lakes still and bright; but that was a fey, foreign +country to which Auld Jock had no desire to go. He wondered, wistfully, +if he would feel at home in God's heaven, and if there would be room +in that lush silence for a noisy little dog, as there was on the rough +Pentland braes. And there his thoughts came back to this cold prison +cell in which he could not defend the right of his one faithful little +friend to live. He stooped and lifted Bobby into the bed. Humble, and +eager to be forgiven for an offense he could not understand, the +loving little creature leaped to Auld Jock's arms and lavished frantic +endearments upon him. + +Lying so together in the dark, man and dog fell into a sleep that was +broken by Auld Jock's fitful coughing and the abuse of his neighbors. +It was not until the wind had long died to a muffled murmur at the +casements, and every other lodger was out, that Auld Jock slept soundly. +He awoke late to find Bobby waiting patiently on the floor and the +bare cell flooded with white glory. That could mean but one thing. He +stumbled dizzily to his feet and threw a sash aback. Over the huddle of +high housetops, the University towers and the scattered suburbs beyond, +he looked away to the snow-clad slopes of the Pentlands, running up to +heaven and shining under the pale winter sunshine. + +“The snaw! Eh, Bobby, but it's a bonny sicht to auld een!” he cried, +with the simple delight of a child. He stooped to lift Bobby to the +wonder of it, when the world suddenly went black and roaring around in +his head. Staggering back he crumpled up in a pitiful heap on the floor. + +Bobby licked his master's face and hands, and then sat quietly down +beside him. So many strange, uncanny things had happened within the +last twenty-four hours that the little dog was rapidly outgrowing his +irresponsible puppyhood. After a long time Auld Jock opened his eyes and +sat up. Bobby put his paws on his master's knees in anxious sympathy. +Before the man had got his wits about him the time-gun boomed from the +Castle. Panic-stricken that he should have slept in his bed so late, and +then lain senseless on the floor for he knew not how long, Auld Jock got +up and struggled into his greatcoat, bonnet and plaid. In feeling for +his woolen mittens he discovered the buns that Mr. Trail had dropped +into his pocket for Bobby. + +The old man stared and stared at them in piteous dismay. Mr. Traill had +believed him to be so ill that he “wouldna be oot the morn.” It was a +staggering thought. + +The bells of St. Giles broke into “Over the Hills and Far Away.” The +melody came to Auld Jock clearly, unbroken by echoes, for the garret was +on a level with the cathedral's crown on High Street. It brought to him +again a vision of the Midlothian slopes, but it reminded Bobby that it +was dinner-time. He told Auld Jock so by running to the door and back +and begging him, by every pretty wile at his command, to go. The old man +got to his feet and then fell back, pale and shaken, his heart hammering +again. Bobby ate the bun soberly and then sat up against Auld Jock's +feet, that dangled helplessly from the bed. The bells died away from +the man's ears before they had ceased playing. Both the church and the +University bells struck the hour of two then three then four. Daylight +had begun to fail when Auld Jock stirred, sat up, and did a strange +thing: taking from his pocket a leather bag-purse that was closed by a +draw-string, he counted the few crowns and shillings in it and the many +smaller silver and copper coins. + +“There's eneugh,” he said. There was enough, by careful spending, to pay +for food and lodging for a few weeks, to save himself from the charity +of the infirmary. By this act he admitted the humiliating and fearful +fact that he was very ill. The precious little hoard must be hidden from +the chance prowler. He looked for a loose brick in the fireplace, but +before he found one, he forgot all about it, and absent-mindedly heaped +the coins in a little pile on the open Bible at the back of the bed. + +For a long time Auld Jock sat there with his head in his hands before +he again slipped back to his pillow. Darkness stole into the quiet room. +The lodgers returned to their dens one after one, tramping or slipping +or hobbling up the stairs and along the passage. Bobby bristled and +froze, on guard, when a stealthy hand tried the latch. Then there +were sounds of fighting, of crying women, and the long, low wailing +of-wretched children. The evening drum and bugle were heard from the +Castle, and hour after hour was struck from the clock of St. Giles while +Bobby watched beside his master. + +All night Auld Jock was “aff 'is heid.” When he muttered in his sleep or +cried out in the delirium of fever, the little dog put his paws upon the +bed-rail. He scratched on it and begged to be lifted to where he could +comfort his master, for the shelf was set too high for him to climb into +the bed. Unable to get his master's attention, he licked the hot hand +that hung over the side. Auld Jock lay still at last, not coughing any +more, but breathing rapid, shallow breaths. Just at dawn he turned his +head and gazed in bewilderment at the alert and troubled little creature +that was instantly upon the rail. After a long time he recognized the +dog and patted the shaggy little head. Feeling around the bed, he found +the other bun and dropped it on the floor. Presently he said, between +strangled breaths: + +“Puir--Bobby! Gang--awa'--hame--laddie.” + +After that it was suddenly very still in the brightening room. Bobby +gazed and gazed at his master--one long, heartbroken look, then dropped +to all fours and stood trembling. Without another look he stretched +himself upon the hearthstone below the bed. + +Morning and evening footsteps went down and came up on the stairs. +Throughout the day--the babel of crowded tenement strife; the crying of +fishwives and fagot-venders in the court; the striking of the hours; the +boom of the time gun and sweet clamor of music bells; the failing of the +light and the soaring note of the bugle--he watched motionless beside +his master. + +Very late at night shuffling footsteps came up the stairs. The “auld +wifie” kept a sharp eye on the comings and goings of her lodgers. It was +“no' canny” that this old man, with a cauld in his chest, had gone up +full two days before and had not come down again. To bitter complaints +of his coughing and of his strange talking to himself she gave scant +attention, but foul play was done often enough in these dens to make +her uneasy. She had no desire to have the Burgh police coming about +and interfering with her business. She knocked sharply on the door and +called: + +“Auld Jock!” + +Bobby trotted over to the door and stood looking at it. In such a strait +he would naturally have welcomed the visitor, scratching on the panel, +and crying to any human body without to come in and see what had +befallen his master. But Auld Jock had bade him “haud 'is gab” there, +as in Greyfriars kirkyard. So he held to loyal silence, although the +knocking and shaking of the latch was insistent and the lodgers were +astir. The voice of the old woman was shrill with alarm. + +“Auld Jock, can ye no' wauken?” And, after a moment, in which the +unlatched casement window within could be heard creaking on its hinges +in the chill breeze, there was a hushed and frightened question: + +“Are ye deid?” + +The footsteps fled down the stairs, and Bobby was left to watch through +the long hours of darkness. + +Very early in the morning the flimsy door was quietly forced by +authority. The first man who entered--an officer of the Crown from the +sheriff's court on the bridge--took off his hat to the majesty that +dominated that bare cell. The Cowgate region presented many a startling +contrast, but such a one as this must seldom have been seen. The classic +fireplace, and the motionless figure and peaceful face of the pious old +shepherd within it, had the dignity and beauty of some monumental tomb +and carved effigy in old Greyfriars kirkyard. Only less strange was the +contrast between the marks of poverty and toil on the dead man and the +dainty grace of the little fluff of a dog that mourned him. + +No such men as these--officers of her Majesty the Queen, Burgh +policemen, and learned doctors from the Royal Infirmary--had ever been +aware of Auld Jock, living. Dead, and no' needing them any more, they +stood guard over him, and inquired sternly as to the manner in which +he had died. There was a hysterical breath of relief from the crowd +of lodgers and tenants when the little pile of coins was found on the +Bible. There had been no foul play. Auld Jock had died of heart failure, +from pneumonia and worn-out old age. + +“There's eneugh,” a Burgh policeman said when the money was counted. He +meant much the same thing Auld Jock himself had meant. There was enough +to save him from the last indignity a life of useful labor can thrust +upon the honest poor--pauper burial. But when inquiries were made for +the name and the friends of this old man there appeared to be only “Auld +Jock” to enter into the record, and a little dog to follow the body to +the grave. It was a Bible reader who chanced to come in from the Medical +Mission in the Cowgate who thought to look in the fly-leaf of Auld +Jock's Bible. + +“His name is John Gray.” + +He laid the worn little book on Auld Jock's breast and crossed the +work-scarred hands upon it. “It's something by the ordinar' to find +a gude auld country body in such a foul place.” He stooped and patted +Bobby, and noted the bun, untouched, upon the floor. Turning to a wild +elf of a barefooted child in the crowd he spoke to her. “Would you share +your gude brose with the bit dog, lassie?” + +She darted down the stairs, and presently returned with her own scanty +bowl of breakfast porridge. Bobby refused the food, but he looked at her +so mournfully that the first tears of pity her unchildlike eyes had ever +shed welled up. She put out her hand timidly and stroked him. + +It was just before the report of the time-gun that two policemen cleared +the stairs, shrouded Auld Jock in his own greatcoat and plaid, and +carried him down to the court. There they laid him in a plain box of +white deal that stood on the pavement, closed it, and went away down the +wynd on a necessary errand. The Bible-reader sat on an empty beer keg to +guard the box, and Bobby climbed on the top and stretched himself above +his master. The court was a well, more than a hundred feet deep. What +sky might have been visible above it was hidden by tier above tier of +dingy, tattered washings. The stairway filled again, and throngs of +outcasts of every sort went about their squalid businesses, with only a +curious glance or so at the pathetic group. + +Presently the policemen returned from the Cowgate with a motley +assortment of pallbearers. There was a good-tempered Irish laborer from +a near-by brewery; a decayed gentleman, unsteady of gait and blear-eyed, +in greasy frock-coat and broken hat; a flashily dressed bartender +who found the task distasteful; a stout, bent-backed fagot-carrier; a +drunken fisherman from New Haven, suddenly sobered by this uncanny +duty, and a furtive, gaol-bleached thief who feared a trap and tried to +escape. + +Tailed by scuffling gamins, the strange little procession moved quickly +down the wynd and turned into the roaring Cowgate. The policemen went +before to force a passage through the press. The Bible-reader followed +the box, and Bobby, head and tail down, trotted unnoticed, beneath +it. The humble funeral train passed under a bridge arch into the empty +Grassmarket, and went up Candlemakers Row to the kirkyard gate. Such as +Auld Jock, now, by unnumbered thousands, were coming to lie among the +grand and great, laird and leddy, poet and prophet, persecutor and +martyr, in the piled-up, historic burying-ground of old Greyfriars. + +By a gesture the caretaker directed the bearers to the right, past the +church, and on down the crowded slope to the north, that was circled +about by the backs of the tenements in the Grassmarket and Candlemakers +Row. The box was lowered at once, and the pall-bearers hastily departed +to delayed dinners. The policemen had urgent duties elsewhere. Only the +Bible reader remained to see the grave partly filled in, and to try to +persuade Bobby to go away with him. But the little dog resisted with +such piteous struggles that the man put him down again. The grave digger +leaned on his spade for a bit of professional talk. + +“Many a dog gangs daft an' greets like a human body when his maister +dees. They're aye put oot, a time or twa, an' they gang to folic that +ken them, an' syne they tak' to ithers. Dinna fash yersel' aboot 'im. He +wullna greet lang.” + +Since Bobby would not go, there was nothing to do but leave him there; +but it was with many a backward look and disturbing doubt that the +good man turned away. The grave-digger finished his task cheerfully, +shouldered his tools, and left the kirkyard. The early dark was coming +on when the caretaker, in making his last rounds, found the little +terrier flattened out on the new-made mound. + +“Gang awa' oot!” he ordered. Bobby looked up pleadingly and trembled, +but he made no motion to obey. James Brown was not an unfeeling man, and +he was but doing his duty. From an impulse of pity for this bonny wee +bit of loyalty and grief he picked Bobby up, carried him all the way to +the gate and set him over the wicket on the pavement. + +“Gang awa' hame, noo,” he said, kindly. “A kirkya'rd isna a place for a +bit dog to be leevin'.” + +Bobby lay where he had been dropped until the caretaker was out of +sight. Then, finding the aperture under the gate too small for him +to squeeze through, he tried, in his ancestral way, to enlarge it by +digging. He scratched and scratched at the unyielding stone until his +little claws were broken and his toes bleeding, before he stopped and +lay down with his nose under the wicket. + + Just before the closing hour a carriage stopped at the +kirkyard gate. A black-robed lady, carrying flowers, hurried through the +wicket. Bobby slipped in behind her and disappeared. + +After nightfall, when the lamps were lighted on the bridge, when Mr. +Traill had come out to stand idly in his doorway, looking for some one +to talk to, and James Brown had locked the kirkyard yard gate for the +night and gone into his little stone lodge to supper, Bobby came out of +hiding and stretched himself prone across Auld Jock's grave. + + + + +IV. + +Fifteen minutes after the report of the time-gun on Monday, when the +bells were playing their merriest and the dining-rooms were busiest, +Mr. Traill felt such a tiny tug at his trouser-leg that it was repeated +before he gave it attention. In the press of hungry guests Bobby had +little more than room to rise in his pretty, begging attitude. The +landlord was so relieved to see him again, after five conscience +stricken days, that he stooped to clap the little dog on the side and to +greet him with jocose approval. + +“Gude dog to fetch Auld Jock--” + +With a faint and piteous cry that was heard by no one but Mr. Traill, +Bobby toppled over on the floor. It was a limp little bundle that the +landlord picked up from under foot and held on his arm a moment, while +he looked around for the dog's master. Shocked at not seeing Auld Jock, +by a kind of inspiration he carried the little dog to the inglenook +and laid him down under the familiar settle. Bobby was little more than +breathing, but he opened his silkily veiled brown eyes and licked the +friendly hand that had done this refinement of kindness. It took Mr. +Traill more than a moment to realize the nature of the trouble. A dog +with so thick a fleece of wool, under so crisply waving an outer coat +as Bobby's, may perish for lack of food and show no outward sign of +emaciation. + +“The sonsie, wee--why, he's all but starved!” + +Pale with pity, Mr. Traill snatched a plate of broth from the hands of +a gaping waiter laddie, set it under Bobby's nose, and watched him begin +to lap the warm liquid eagerly. In the busy place the incident passed +unnoticed. With his usual, brisk decision Mr. Traill turned the backs of +a couple of chairs over against the nearest table, to signify that the +corner was reserved, and he went about his duties with unwonted silence. +As the crowd thinned he returned to the inglenook to find Bobby asleep, +not curled up in a tousled ball, as such a little dog should be, but +stretched on his side and breathing irregularly. + +If Bobby was in such straits, how must it be with Auld Jock? This was +the fifth day since the sick old man had fled into the storm. With new +disquiet Mr. Traill remembered a matter that had annoyed him in the +morning, and that he had been inclined to charge to mischievous Heriot +boys. Low down on the outside of his freshly varnished entrance door +were many scratches that Bobby could have made. He may have come for +food on the Sabbath day when the place was closed. + +After an hour Bobby woke long enough to eat a generous plate of that +delectable and highly nourishing Scotch dish known as haggis. He fell +asleep again in an easier attitude that relieved the tension on the +landlord's feelings. Confident that the devoted little dog would lead +him straight to his master, Mr. Traill closed the door securely, that he +might not escape unnoticed, and arranged his own worldly affairs so he +could leave them to hirelings on the instant. In the idle time between +dinner and supper he sat down by the fire, lighted his pipe, repented +his unruly tongue, and waited. As the short day darkened to its close +the sunset bugle was blown in the Castle. At the first note, Bobby crept +from under the settle, a little unsteady on his legs as yet, wagged his +tail for thanks, and trotted to the door. + +Mr. Traill had no trouble at all in keeping the little dog in sight to +the kirkyard gate, for in the dusk his coat shone silvery white. Indeed, +by a backward look now and then, Bobby seemed to invite the man to +follow, and waited at the gate, with some impatience, for him to +come up. Help was needed there. By rising and tugging at Mr. Traill's +clothing and then jumping on the wicket Bobby plainly begged to have it +opened. He made no noise, neither barking nor whimpering, and that was +very strange for a dog of the terrier breed; but each instant of delay +he became more insistent, and even frantic, to have the gate unlatched. +Mr. Traill refused to believe what Bobby's behavior indicated, and +reproved him in the broad Scotch to which the country dog was used. + +“Nae, Bobby; be a gude dog. Gang doon to the Coogate noo, an' find Auld +Jock.” + +Uttering no cry at all, Bobby gave the man such a woebegone look and +dropped to the pavement, with his long muzzle as far under the wicket +as he could thrust it, that the truth shot home to Mr. Traill's +understanding. He opened the gate. Bobby slipped through and stood just +inside a moment, and looking back as if he expected his human friend +to follow. Then, very suddenly, as the door of the lodge opened and the +caretaker came out, Bobby disappeared in the shadow of the church. + +A big-boned, slow-moving man of the best country house-gardener type, +serviceably dressed in corduroy, wool bonnet, and ribbed stockings, +James Brown collided with the small and wiry landlord, to his own very +great embarrassment. + +“Eh, Maister Traill, ye gied me a turn. It's no' canny to be proolin' +aboot the kirkyaird i' the gloamin'.” + +“Whaur did the bit dog go, man?” demanded the peremptory landlord. + +“Dog? There's no' ony dog i' the kirkyaird. It isna permeetted. Gin it's +a pussy ye're needin', noo--” + +But Mr. Traill brushed this irrelevant pleasantry aside. + +“Ay, there's a dog. I let him in my ainsel'.” + +The caretaker exploded with wrath: “Syne I'll hae the law on ye. Can ye +no' read, man?” + +“Tut, tut, Jeemes Brown. Don't stand there arguing. It's a gude and +necessary regulation, but it's no' the law o' the land. I turned the dog +in to settle a matter with my ain conscience, and John Knox would have +done the same thing in the bonny face o' Queen Mary. What it is, is nae +beesiness of yours. The dog was a sma' young terrier of the Highland +breed, but with a drop to his ears and a crinkle in his frosty coat--no' +just an ordinar' dog. I know him weel. He came to my place to be fed, +near dead of hunger, then led me here. If his master lies in this +kirkyard, I'll tak' the bit dog awa' with me.” + +Mr. Traill's astonishing fluency always carried all walls of resistance +before it with men of slower wit and speech. Only a superior man could +brush time-honored rules aside so curtly and stand on his human rights +so surely. James Brown pulled his bonnet off deferentially, scratched +his shock head and shifted his pipe. Finally he admitted: + +“Weel, there was a bit tyke i' the kirkyaird twa days syne. I put 'im +oot, an' haena seen 'im aboot ony main” He offered, however, to show the +new-made mound on which he had found the dog. Leading the way past the +church, he went on down the terraced slope, prolonging the walk with +conversation, for the guardianship of an old churchyard offers very +little such lively company as John Traill's. + +“I mind, noo, it was some puir body frae the Coogate, wi' no' ony +mourners but the sma' terrier aneath the coffin. I let 'im pass, no' +to mak' a disturbance at a buryin'. The deal box was fetched up by the +police, an' carried by sic a crew o' gaol-birds as wad mak' ye turn ower +in yer ain God's hole. But he paid for his buryin' wi' his ain siller, +an' noo lies as canny as the nobeelity. Nae boot here's the place, +Maister Traill; an' ye can see for yer ainsel' there's no' any dog.” + +“Ay, that would be Auld Jock and Bobby would no' be leaving him,” + insisted the landlord, stubbornly. He stood looking down at the rough +mound of frozen clods heaped in a little space of trampled snow. + +“Jeemes Brown,” Mr. Trail said, at last, “the man wha lies here was a +decent, pious auld country body, and I drove him to his meeserable death +in the Cowgate.” + +“Man, ye dinna ken what ye're sayin'!” was the shocked response. + +“Do I no'? I'm canny, by the ordinar', but my fule tongue will get me +into trouble with the magistrates one of these days. It aye wags at both +ends, and is no' tied in the middle.” + +Then, stanch Calvinist that he was, and never dreaming that he was +indulging in the sinful pleasure of confession, Mr. Traill poured out +the story of Auld Jock's plight and of his own shortcomings. It was a +bitter, upbraiding thing that he, an uncommonly capable man, had meant +so well by a humble old body, and done so ill. And he had failed again +when he tried to undo the mischief. The very next morning he had gone +down into the perilous Cowgate, and inquired in every place where it +might be possible for such a timid old shepherd to be known. But there! +As well look for a burr thistle in a bin of oats, as look for a human +atom in the Cowgate and the wynds “juist aff.” + +“Weel, noo, ye couldna hae dune aething wi' the auld body, ava, gin he +wouldna gang to the infairmary.” The caretaker was trying to console the +self-accusing man. + +“Could I no'? Ye dinna ken me as weel as ye micht.” The disgusted +landlord tumbled into broad Scotch. “Gie me to do it ance mair, an' I'd +chairge Auld Jock wi' thievin' ma siller, wi' a wink o' the ee at the +police to mak' them ken I was leein'; an' syne they'd hae hustled 'im +aff, willy-nilly, to a snug bed.” + +The energetic little man looked so entirely capable of any daring deed +that he fired the caretaker into enthusiastic search for Bobby. It was +not entirely dark, for the sky was studded with stars, snow lay in broad +patches on the slope, and all about the lower end of the kirkyard supper +candles burned at every rear window of the tall tenements. + +The two men searched among the near-by slabs and table-tombs and +scattered thorn bushes. They circled the monument to all the martyrs who +had died heroically, in the Grassmarket and elsewhere, for their faith. +They hunted in the deep shadows of the buttresses along the side of the +auld kirk and among the pillars of the octagonal portico to the new. At +the rear of the long, low building, that was clumsily partitioned across +for two pulpits, stood the ornate tomb of “Bluidy” McKenzie. But Bobby +had not committed himself to the mercy of the hanging judge, nor yet +to the care of the doughty minister, who, from the pulpit of Greyfriars +auld kirk, had flung the blood and tear stained Covenant in the teeth of +persecution. + +The search was continued past the modest Scott family burial plot and +on to the west wall. There was a broad outlook over Heriot's Hospital +grounds, a smooth and shining expanse of unsullied snow about the early +Elizabethan pile of buildings. Returning, they skirted the lowest wall +below the tenements, for in the circling line of courtyarded vaults, +where the “nobeelity” of Scotland lay haughtily apart under timestained +marbles, were many shadowy nooks in which so small a dog could stow +himself away. Skulking cats were flushed there, and sent flying over +aristocratic bones, but there was no trace of Bobby. + +The second tier of windows of the tenements was level with the kirkyard +wall, and several times Mr. Traill called up to a lighted casement where +a family sat at a scant supper. + +“Have you seen a bit dog, man?” + +There was much cordial interest in his quest, windows opening and faces +staring into the dusk; but not until near the top of the Row was a clue +gained. Then, at the query, an unkempt, illclad lassie slipped from her +stool and leaned out over the pediment of a tomb. She had seen a “wee, +wee doggie jinkin' amang the stanes.” It was on the Sabbath evening, +when the well-dressed folk had gone home from the afternoon services. +She was eating her porridge at the window, “by her lane,” when he +“keeked up at her so knowing, and begged so bonny,” that she balanced +her bit bowl on a lath, and pushed it over on the kirkyard wall. As she +finished the story the big, blue eyes of the little maid, who doubtless +had herself known what it was to be hungry, filled with tears. + +“The wee tyke couldna loup up to it, an' a deil o' a pussy got it a'. He +was so bonny, like a leddy's pet, an' syne he fell ower on the snaw an' +creepit awa'. He didna cry oot, but he was a' but deid wi' hunger.” + At the memory of it soft-hearted Ailie Lindsey sobbed on her mother's +shoulder. + +The tale was retold from one excited window to another, all the way +around and all the way up to the gables, so quickly could some incident +of human interest make a social gathering in the populous tenements. +Most of all, the children seized upon the touching story. Eager and +pinched little faces peered wistfully into the melancholy kirkyard. + +“Is he yer ain dog?” crippled Tammy Barr piped out, in his thin treble. +“Gin I had a bonny wee dog I'd gie 'im ma ain brose, an' cuddle 'im, an' +he couldna gang awa'.” + +“Nae, laddie, he's no' my dog. His master lies buried here, and the leal +Highlander mourns for him.” With keener appreciation of its pathos, Mr. +Traill recalled that this was what Auld Jock had said: “Bobby isna ma +ain dog.” And he was conscious of wishing that Bobby was his own, with +his unpurchasable love and a loyalty to face starvation. As he mounted +the turfed terraces he thought to call back: + +“If you see him again, lassie, call him 'Bobby,' and fetch him up to +Greyfriars Dining-Rooms. I have a bright siller shulling, with the +Queen's bonny face on it, to give the bairn that finds Bobby.” + +There was excited comment on this. He must, indeed, be an attractive +dog to be worth a shilling. The children generously shared plans for +capturing Bobby. But presently the windows were closed, and supper was +resumed. The caretaker was irritable. + +“Noo, ye'll hae them a' oot swarmin' ower the kirkyaird. There's nae +coontin' the bairns o' the neeborhood, an' nane o' them are so weel +broucht up as they micht be.” + +Mr. Traill commented upon this philosophically: “A bairn is like a dog +in mony ways. Tak' a stick to one or the other and he'll misbehave. The +children here are poor and neglected, but they're no' vicious like the +awfu' imps of the Cowgate, wha'd steal from their blind grandmithers. +Get on the gude side of the bairns, man, and you'll live easier and die +happier.” + +It seemed useless to search the much longer arm of the kirkyard that ran +southward behind the shops of Greyfriars Place and Forest Road. If Bobby +was in the enclosure at all he would not be far from Auld Jock's grave. +Nearest the new-made mound were two very old and dark table-tombs. The +farther one lay horizontally, on its upright “through stanes,” some +distance above the earth. The supports of the other had fallen, and the +table lay on their thickness within six inches of the ground. Mr. Traill +and the caretaker sat upon this slab, which testified to the piety and +worth of one Mistress Jean Grant, who had died “lang syne.” + +Encroached upon, as it was, by unlovely life, Greyfriars kirkyard was +yet a place of solitude and peace. The building had the dignity +that only old age can give. It had lost its tower by an explosion +of gunpowder stored there in war time, and its walls and many of the +ancient tombs bore the marks of fire and shot. Within the last decade +some of the Gothic openings had been filled with beautiful memorial +windows. Despite the horrors and absurdities and mutilation of much of +the funeral sculpturing, the kirkyard had a sad distinction, such as +became its fame as Scotland's Westminster. And, there was one heavenward +outlook and heavenly view. Over the tallest decaying tenement one could +look up to the Castle of dreams on the crag, and drop the glance all the +way down the pinnacled crest of High Street, to the dark and deserted +Palace of Holyrood. After nightfall the turreted heights wore a luminous +crown, and the steep ridge up to it twinkled with myriad lights. After a +time the caretaker offered a well-considered opinion. + +“The dog maun hae left the kirkyaird. Thae terriers are aye barkin'. +It'd be maist michty noo, gin he'd be so lang i' the kirkyaird, an' no' +mak' a blatterin'.” + +As a man of superior knowledge Mr. Traill found pleasure in upsetting +this theory. “The Highland breed are no' like ordinar' terriers. Noisy +enough to deave one, by nature, give a bit Skye a reason and he'll lie +a' the day under a whin bush on the brae, as canny as a fox. You gave +Bobby a reason for hiding here by turning him out. And Auld Jock was a +vera releegious man. It would no' be surprising if he taught Bobby to +hold his tongue in a kirkyard.” + +“Man, he did that vera thing.” James Brown brought his fist down on his +knee; for suddenly he identified Bobby as the snappy little ruffian +that had chased the cat and bitten his shins, and Auld Jock as the +scandalized shepherd who had rebuked the dog so bitterly. He related the +incident with gusto. + +“The auld man cried oot on the misbehavin' tyke to haud 'is gab. Syne, +ye ne'er saw the bit dog's like for a bairn that'd haen a lickin'. He'd +'a' gaen into a pit, gin there'd been ane, an' pu'd it in ahind 'im. +I turned 'em baith oot, an' told 'em no' to come back. Eh, man, it's +fearsome hoo ilka body comes to a kirkyaird, toes afore 'im, in a long +box.” + +Mr. Brown was sobered by this grim thought and then, in his turn, he +confessed a slip to this tolerant man of the world. “The wee deil o' a +sperity dog nipped me so I let oot an aith.” + +“Ay, that's Bobby. He would no' be afraid of onything with hide or hair +on it. Man, the Skye terriers go into dens of foxes and wildcats, and +worry bulls till they tak' to their heels. And Bobby's sagacious by the +ordinar'.” He thought intently for a moment, and then spoke naturally, +and much as Auld Jock himself might have spoken to the dog. + +“Whaur are ye, Bobby? Come awa' oot, laddie!” + +Instantly the little dog stood before him like some conjured ghost. He +had slipped from under the slab on which they were sitting. It lay +so near the ground, and in such a mat of dead grass, that it had +not occurred to them to look for him there. He came up to Mr. Traill +confidently, submitted to having his head patted, and looked pleadingly +at the caretaker. Then, thinking he had permission to do so, he lay down +on the mound. James Brown dropped his pipe. + +“It's maist michty!” he said. + +Mr. Traill got to his feet briskly. “I'll just tak' the dog with me, +Mr. Brown. On marketday I'll find the farmer that owns him and send +him hame. As you say, a kirkyard's nae place for a dog to be living +neglected. Come awa', Bobby.” + +Bobby looked up, but, as he made no motion to obey, Mr. Traill stooped +and lifted him. + +From sheer surprise at this unexpected move the little dog lay still a +moment on the man's arm. Then, with a lithe twist of his muscular body +and a spring, he was on the ground, trembling, reproachful for the +breach of faith, but braced for resistance. + +“Eh, you're no' going?” Mr. Traill put his hands in his pockets, looked +down at Bobby admiringly, and sighed. “There's a dog after my ain heart, +and he'll have naething to do with me. He has a mind of his ain. I'll +just have to be leaving him here the two days, Mr. Brown.” + +“Ye wullna leave 'im! Ye'll tak' 'im wi' ye, or I'll hae to put 'im oot. +Man, I couldna haud the place gin I brak the rules.” + +“You--will--no'--put--the--wee--dog--out!” Mr. Traill shook a playful, +emphatic finger under the big man's nose. + +“Why wull I no'?” + +“Because, man, you have a vera soft heart, and you canna deny it.” It +was with a genial, confident smile that Mr. Traill made this terrible +accusation. + +“Ma heart's no' so saft as to permit a bit dog to scandalize the deid.” + +“He's been here two days, you no' knowing it, and he has scandalized +neither the dead nor the living. He's as leal as ony Covenanter here, +and better conducted than mony a laird. He's no the quarrelsome kind, +but, man, for a principle he'd fight like auld Clootie.” Here the +landlord's heat gave way to pure enjoyment of the situation. “Eh, I'd +like to see you put him out. It would be another Flodden Field.” + +The angry caretaker shrugged his broad shoulders. + +“Ye can see it, gin ye stand by, in juist one meenit. Fecht as he may, +it wull soon be ower.” + +Mr. Traill laughed easily, and ventured the opinion that Mr. Brown's +bark was worse than his bite. As he went through the gateway he could +not resist calling back a challenge: “I daur you to do it.” + +Mr. Brown locked the gate, went sulkily into the lodge, lighted his +cutty pipe, and smoked it furiously. He read a Psalm with deliberation, +poked up an already bright fire, and glowered at his placid gude wife. +It was not to be borne--to be defied by a ten-inch-high terrier, and +dared, by a man a third under his own weight, to do his duty. After an +hour or so he worked himself up to the point of going out and slamming +the door. + +At eight o'clock Mr. Traill found Bobby on the pavement outside the +locked gate. He was not sorry that the fortunes of unequal battle +had thrown the faithful little dog on his hospitality. Bobby begged +piteously to be put inside, but he seemed to understand at last that +the gate was too high for Mr. Traill to drop him over. He followed +the landlord up to the restaurant willingly. He may have thought this +champion had another solution of the difficulty, for when he saw the man +settle comfortably in a chair he refused to lie on the hearth. He ran to +the door and back, and begged and whined to be let out. For a long time +he stood dejectedly. He was not sullen, for he ate a light supper and +thanked his host with much polite wagging, and he even allowed himself +to be petted. Suddenly he thought of something, trotted briskly off to a +corner and crouched there. + +Mr. Traill watched the attractive little creature with interest and +growing affection. Very likely he indulged in a day-dream that, perhaps, +the tenant of Cauldbrae farm could be induced to part with Bobby for +a consideration, and that he himself could win the dog to transfer his +love from a cold grave to a warm hearth. + +With a spring the rat was captured. A jerk of the long head and there +was proof of Bobby's prowess to lay at his good friend's feet. Made much +of, and in a position to ask fresh favors, the little dog was off to the +door with cheerful, staccato barks. His reasoning was as plain as print: +“I hae done ye a service, noo tak' me back to the kirkyaird.” + +Mr. Traill talked to him as he might have reasoned with a bright bairn. +Bobby listened patiently, but remained of the same mind. At last +he moved away, disappointed in this human person, discouraged, but +undefeated in his purpose. He lay down by the door. Mr. Traill watched +him, for if any chance late comer opened the door the masterless little +dog would be out into the perils of the street. Bobby knew what doors +were for and, very likely, expected some such release. He waited a long +time patiently. Then he began to run back and forth. He put his paws +upon Mr. Traill and whimpered and cried. Finally he howled. + +It was a dreadful, dismal, heartbroken howl that echoed back from the +walls. He howled continuously, until the landlord, quite distracted, and +concerned about the peace of his neighbors, thrust Bobby into the dark +scullery at the rear, and bade him stop his noise. For fully ten minutes +the dog was quiet. He was probably engaged in exploring his new quarters +to find an outlet. Then he began to howl again. It was truly astonishing +that so small a dog could make so large a noise. + +A battle was on between the endurance of the man and the persistence of +the terrier. Mr. Traill was speculating on which was likely to be victor +in the contest, when the front door was opened and the proprietor of the +Book Hunter's Stall put in a bare, bald head and the abstracted face of +the book-worm that is mildly amused. + +“Have you tak'n to a dog at your time o' life, Mr. Traill?” + +“Ay, man, and it would be all right if the bit dog would just tak' to +me.” + +This pleasantry annoyed a good man who had small sense of humor, and he +remarked testily “The barkin' disturbs my customers so they canna read.” + The place was a resort for student laddies who had to be saving of +candles. + +“That's no' right,” the landlord admitted, sympathetically. “'Reading +mak'th a full man.' Eh, what a deeference to the warld if Robbie Burns +had aye preferred a book to a bottle.” The bookseller refused to be +beguiled from his just cause of complaint into the flowery meads of +literary reminiscences and speculations. + +“You'll stop that dog's cleaving noise, Mr. Traill, or I'll appeal to +the Burgh police.” + +The landlord returned a bland and child-like smile. “You'd be weel +within your legal rights to do it, neebor.” + +The door was shut with such a business-like click that the situation +suddenly became serious. Bobby's vocal powers, however, gave no signs of +diminishing. Mr. Traill quieted the dog for a few moments by letting him +into the outer room, but the swiftness and energy with which he renewed +his attacks on the door and on the man's will showed plainly that the +truce was only temporary. He did not know what he meant to do except +that he certainly had no intention of abandoning the little dog. To gain +time he put on his hat and coat, picked Bobby up, and opened the door. +The thought occurred to him to try the gate at the upper end of the +kirkyard or, that failing, to get into Heriot's Hospital grounds and put +Bobby over the wall. As he opened the door, however, he heard Geordie +Ross's whistle around the bend in Forest Road. + +“Hey, laddie!” he called. “Come awa' in a meenit.” When the sturdy boy +was inside and the door safely shut, he began in his most guileless and +persuasive tone: “Would you like to earn a shulling, Geordie?” + +“Ay, I would. Gie it to me i' pennies an' ha'pennies, Maister Traill. It +seems mair, an' mak's a braw jinglin' in a pocket.” + +The price was paid and the tale told. The quick championship of the +boy was engaged for the gallant dog, and Geordie's eyes sparkled at the +prospect of dark adventure. Bobby was on the floor listening, ears and +eyes, brambly muzzle and feathered tail alert. He listened with his +whole, small, excited body, and hung on the answer to the momentous +question. + +“Is there no' a way to smuggle the bit dog into the kirkyard?” + +It appeared that nothing was easier, “aince ye ken hoo.” Did Mr. Traill +know of the internal highway through the old Cunzie Neuk at the bottom +of the Row? One went up the stairs on the front to the low, timbered +gallery, then through a passage as black as “Bluidy” McKenzie's heart. +At the end of that, one came to a peep-hole of a window, set out on +wooden brackets, that hung right over the kirkyard wall. From that +window Bobby could be dropped on a certain noble vault, from which he +could jump to the ground. + +“Twa meenits' wark, stout hearts, sleekit footstaps, an' the fearsome +deed is done,” declared twelve-year-old Geordie, whose sense of the +dramatic matched his daring. + +But when the deed was done, and the two stood innocently on the brightly +lighted approach to the bridge, Mr. Traill had his misgivings. A +well-respected business man and church-member, he felt uneasy to be at +the mercy of a laddie who might be boastful. + +“Geordie, if you tell onybody about this I'll have to give you a +licking.” + +“I wullna tell,” Geordie reassured him. “It's no' so respectable, an' +syne ma mither'd gie me anither lickin', an' they'd gie me twa more +awfu' aces, an' black marks for a month, at Heriot's.” + + + + +V. + +Word had been left at all the inns and carting offices about both +markets for the tenant of Cauldbrae farm to call at Mr. Traill's +place for Bobby. The man appeared Wednesday afternoon, driving a big +Clydesdale horse to a stout farm cart. The low-ceiled dining-room +suddenly shrank about the big-boned, long legged hill man. The fact +embarrassed him, as did also a voice cultivated out of all proportion to +town houses, by shouting to dogs and shepherds on windy shoulders of the +Pentlands. + +“Hae ye got the dog wi' ye?” + +Mr. Train pointed to Bobby, deep in a blissful, after dinner nap under +the settle. + +The farmer breathed a sigh of relief, sat at a table, and ate a +frugal meal of bread and cheese. As roughly dressed as Auld Jock, in +a metal-buttoned greatcoat of hodden gray, a woolen bonnet, and the +shepherd's twofold plaid, he was a different species of human being +altogether. A long, lean, sinewy man of early middle age, he had a +smooth-shaven, bony jaw, far-seeing gray eyes under furzy brows, and a +shock of auburn hair. When he spoke, it was to give bits out of his own +experience. + +“Thae terriers are usefu' eneugh on an ordinar' fairm an' i' the toon to +keep awa' the vermin, but I wadna gie a twa-penny-bit for ane o' them on +a sheep-fairm. There's a wee lassie at Cauldbrae wha wants Bobby for a +pet. It wasna richt for Auld Jock to win 'im awa' frae the bairn.” + +Mr. Traill's hand was lifted in rebuke. “Speak nae ill, man; Auld Jock's +dead.” + +The farmer's ruddy face blanched and he dropped his knife. “He's no' +buried so sane?” + +“Ay, he's buried four days since in Greyfriars kirkyard, and Bobby has +slept every night on the auld man's grave.” + +“I'll juist tak' a leuk at the grave, moil, gin ye'll hae an ee on the +dog.” + +Mr. Traill cautioned him not to let the caretaker know that Bobby had +continued to sleep in the kirkyard, after having been put out twice. The +farmer was back in ten minutes, with a canny face that defied reading. +He lighted his short Dublin pipe and smoked it out before he spoke +again. + +“It's ower grand for a puir auld shepherd body to be buried i' +Greyfriars.” + +“No' so grand as heaven, I'm thinking.” Mr. Traill's response was dry. + +“Ay, an' we're a' coontin' on gangin' there; but it's a prood thing to +hae yer banes put awa' in Greyfriars, ance ye're through wi' 'em!” + +“Nae doubt the gude auld man would rather be alive on the Pentland braes +than dead in Greyfriars.” + +“Ay,” the farmer admitted. “He was fair fond o' the hills, an' no' +likin' the toon. An', moil, he was a wonder wi' the lambs. He'd gang wi' +a collie ower miles o' country in roarin' weather, an' he'd aye fetch +the lost sheep hame. The auld moil was nane so weel furnished i' the +heid, but bairnies and beasts were unco' fond o' 'im. It wasna his fau't +that Bobby was aye at his heels. The lassie wad 'a' been after'im, gin +'er mither had permeeted it.” + +Mr. Traill asked him why he had let so valuable a man go, and the farmer +replied at once that he was getting old and could no longer do the +winter work. To any but a Scotchman brought up near the sheep country +this would have sounded hard, but Mr. Traill knew that the farmers on +the wild, tipped-up moors were themselves hard pressed to meet rent +and taxes. To keep a shepherd incapacitated by age and liable to lose a +flock in a snow-storm, was to invite ruin. And presently the man showed, +unwittingly, how sweet a kernel the heart may lie under the shell of +sordid necessity. + +“I didna ken the auld man was fair ill or he micht hae bided at the +fairm an' tak'n 'is ain time to dee at 'is ease.” + +As Bobby unrolled and stretched to an awakening, the farmer got up, took +him unaware and thrust him into a covered basket. He had no intention of +letting the little creature give him the slip again. Bobby howled at the +indignity, and struggled and tore at the stout wickerwork. It went to +Mr. Traill's heart to hear him, and to see the gallant little dog so +defenseless. He talked to him through the latticed cover all the way +out to the cart, telling him Auld Jock meant for him to go home. At that +beloved name, Bobby dropped to the bottom of the basket and cried in +such a heartbroken way that tears stood in the landlord's eyes, and even +the farmer confessed to a sudden “cauld in 'is heid.” + +“I'd gie 'im to ye, mon, gin it wasna that the bit lassie wad greet her +bonny een oot gin I didna fetch 'im hame. Nae boot the bit tyke wad 'a' +deed gin ye hadna fed 'im.” + +“Eh, man, he'll no' bide with me, or I'd be bargaining for him. And +he'll no' be permitted to live in the kirkyard. I know naething in this +life more pitiful than a masterless, hameless dog.” And then, to delay +the moment of parting with Bobby, who stopped crying and began to lick +his hand in frantic appeal through a hole in the basket, Mr. Traill +asked how Bobby came by his name. + +“It was a leddy o' the neeborhood o' Swanston. She cam' drivin' by +Cauldbrae i' her bit cart wi' shaggy Shetlands to it an' stapped at the +dairy for a drink o' buttermilk frae the kirn. Syne she saw the sonsie +puppy loupin' at Auld Jock's heels, bonny as a poodle, but mair knowin'. +The leddy gied me a poond note for 'im. I put 'im up on the seat, an' +she said that noo she had a smart Hieland groom to match 'er Hieland +steeds, an' she flicked the ponies wi' 'er whup. Syne the bit dog was on +the airth an' flyin' awa' doon the road like the deil was after 'im. An' +the leddy lauched an' lauched, an' went awa' wi'oot 'im. At the fut o' +the brae she was still lauchin', an' she ca'ed back: 'Gie 'im the name +o' Bobby, gude mon. He's left the plow-tail an's aff to Edinburgh to +mak' his fame an' fortune.' I didna ken what the leddy meant.” + +“Man, she meant he was like Bobby Burns.” + +Here was a literary flavor that gave added attraction to a man who sat +at the feet of the Scottish muses. The landlord sighed as he went back +to the doorway, and he stood there listening to the clatter of the cart +and rough-shod horse and to the mournful howling of the little dog, +until the sounds died away in Forest Road. + +Mr. Traill would have been surprised to know, perhaps, that the confines +of the city were scarcely passed before Bobby stopped protesting and +grieving and settled down patiently to more profitable work. A human +being thus kidnapped and carried away would have been quite helpless. +But Bobby fitted his mop of a black muzzle into the largest hole of his +wicker prison, and set his useful little nose to gathering news of his +whereabouts. + +If it should happen to a dog in this day to be taken from Ye Olde +Greyfriars Dining-Rooms and carried southward out of Edinburgh there +would be two miles or more of city and suburban streets to be traversed +before coming to the open country. But a half century or more ago +one could stand at the upper gate of Greyfriars kirkyard or Heriot's +Hospital grounds and look down a slope dotted with semi-rustic houses, +a village or two and water-mills, and then cultivated farms, all the way +to a stone-bridged burn and a toll-bar at the bottom of the valley. This +hillside was the ancient Burghmuir where King James of old gathered a +great host of Scots to march and fight and perish on Flodden Field. + +Bobby had not gone this way homeward before, and was puzzled by the +smell of prosperous little shops, and by the park-like odors from +college campuses to the east, and from the well-kept residence park +of George Square. But when the cart rattled across Lauriston Place he +picked up the familiar scents of milk and wool from the cattle and +sheep market, and then of cottage dooryards, of turned furrows and of +farmsteads. + +The earth wears ever a threefold garment of beauty. The human person +usually manages to miss nearly everything but the appearance of things. +A few of us are so fortunate as to have ears attuned to the harmonies +woven on the wind by trees and birds and water; but the tricky weft of +odors that lies closest of all, enfolding the very bosom of the earth, +escapes us. A little dog, traveling with his nose low, lives in another +stratum of the world, and experiences other pleasures than his master. +He has excitements that he does his best to share, and that send him +flying in pursuit of phantom clues. + +From the top of the Burghmuir it was easy going to Bobby. The snow had +gone off in a thaw, releasing a multitude of autumnal aromas. There was +a smell of birch and beech buds sealed up in gum, of berries clotted on +the rowan-trees, and of balsam and spice from plantations of Highland +firs and larches. The babbling water of the burn was scented with the +dead bracken of glens down which it foamed. Even the leafless hedges had +their woody odors, and stone dykes their musty smell of decaying mosses +and lichens. + +Bobby knew the pause at the toll-bar in the valley, and the mixed odors +of many passing horses and men, there. He knew the smells of poultry +and cheese at a dairy-farm; of hunting dogs and riding-leathers at a +sportsman's trysting inn, and of grist and polluted water at a mill. +And after passing the hilltop toll-bar of Fairmilehead, dipping across a +narrow valley and rounding the base of a sentinel peak, many tame odors +were left behind. At the buildings of the large, scattered farms there +were smells of sheep, and dogs and barn yards. But, for the most part, +after the road began to climb over a high shoulder of the range, there +was just one wild tang of heather and gorse and fern, tingling with salt +air from the German Ocean. + +When they reached Cauldbrae farm, high up on the slope, it was entirely +dark. Lights in the small, deep-set windows gave the outlines of a low, +steep-roofed, stone farm-house. Out of the darkness a little wind blown +figure of a lassie fled down the brae to meet the cart, and an eager +little voice, as clear as a hill-bird's piping, cried out: + +“Hae ye got ma ain Bobby, faither?” + +“Ay, lassie, I fetched 'im hame,” the farmer roared back, in his big +voice. + +Then the cart was stopped for the wee maid to scramble up over a +wheel, and there were sweet little sounds of kissing and muffled little +cuddlings under the warm plaid. When these soft endearments had been +attended to there was time for another yearning. + +“May I haud wee Bobby, faither?” + +“Nae, lassie, a bonny bit bairnie couldna haud 'im in 'er sma' airms. +Bobby's a' for gangin' awa' to leev in a grand kirkyaird wi' Auld Jock.” + +A little gasp, and a wee sob, and an awed question: “Is gude Auld Jock +deid, daddy?” + +Bobby heard it and answered with a mournful howl. The lassie snuggled +closer to the warm, beating heart, hid her eyes in the rough plaid, and +cried for Auld Jock and for the grieving little dog. + +“Niest to faither an' mither an' big brither Wattie I lo'e Auld Jock an' +Bobby.” The bairnie's voice was smothered in the plaidie. Because it was +dark and none were by to see, the reticent Scot could overflow in tender +speech. His arm tightened around this one little ewe lamb of the human +fold on cold slope farm. He comforted the child by telling her how +they would mak' it up to Bobby, and how very soon a wee dog forgets the +keenest sorrow and is happy again. + +The sheep-dogs charged the cart with as deafening a clamor of welcome as +if a home-coming had never happened before, and raced the horse across +the level. The kitchen door flared open, a sudden beacon to shepherds +scattered afar on these upland billows of heath. In a moment the basket +was in the house, the door snecked, and Bobby released on the hearth. + +It was a beautiful, dark old kitchen, with a homely fire of peat that +glowed up to smoke-stained rafters. Soon it was full of shepherds, come +in to a supper of brose, cheese, milk and bannocks. Sheep-dogs sprawled +and dozed on the hearth, so that the gude wife complained of their being +underfoot. But she left them undisturbed and stepped over them, for, +tired as they were, they would have to go out again to drive the sheep +into the fold. + +Humiliated by being brought home a prisoner, and grieving for the +forsaken grave in Greyfriars, Bobby crept away to a corner bench, on +which Auld Jock had always sat in humble self-effacement. He lay down +under it, and the little four year-old lassie sat on the floor close +beside him, understanding, and sorry with him. Her rough brother Wattie +teased her about wanting her supper there on one plate with Bobby. + +“I wadna gang daft aboot a bit dog, Elsie.” + +“Leave the bairn by 'er lane,” commanded the farmer. The mither patted +the child's bright head, and wiped the tears from the bluebell eyes. And +there was a little sobbing confidence poured into a sympathetic ear. + +Bobby refused to eat at first, but by and by he thought better of it. A +little dog that has his life to live and his work to do must have fuel +to drive the throbbing engine of his tiny heart. So Bobby very sensibly +ate a good supper in the lassie's company and, grateful for that and for +her sympathy, submitted to her shy petting. But after the shepherds and +dogs were gone and the farmer had come in again from an overseeing look +about the place the little dog got up, trotted to the door, and lay down +by it. The lassie followed him. With two small, plump hands she pushed +Bobby's silver veil back, held his muzzle and looked into his sad, brown +eyes. + +“Oh, mither, mither, Bobby's greetin',” she cried. + +“Nae, bonny wee, a sma' dog canna greet.” + +“Ay, he's greetin' sair!” A sudden, sweet little sound was dropped on +Bobby's head. + +“Ye shouldna kiss the bit dog, bairnie. He isna like a human body.” + +“Ay, a wee kiss is gude for 'im. Faither, he greets so I canna thole +it.” The child fled to comforting arms in the inglenook and cried +herself to sleep. The gude wife knitted, and the gude mon smoked by the +pleasant fire. The only sound in the room was the ticking of the wag at +the wa' clock, for burning peat makes no noise at all, only a pungent +whiff in the nostrils, the memory of which gives a Scotch laddie abroad +a fit of hamesickness. Bobby lay very still and watchful by the door. +The farmer served his astonishing news in dramatic bits. + +“Auld Jock's deid.” Bobby stirred at that, and flattened out on the +floor. + +“Ay, the lassie told that, an' I wad hae kenned it by the dog. He is +greetin' by the ordinar'.” + +“An' he's buried i' the kirkyaird o' auld Greyfriars.” Ah, that fetched +her! The gude wife dropped her knitting and stared at him. + +“There's a gairdener, like at the country-hooses o' the gentry, leevin' +in a bit lodge by the gate. He has naethin' to do, ava, but lock the +gate at nicht, put the dogs oot, an' mak' the posies bloom i' the +simmer. Ay, it's a bonny place.” + +“It's ower grand for Auld Jock.” + +“Ye may weel say that. His bit grave isna so far frae the martyrs' +monument.” When the grandeur of that had sunk in he went on to other +incredibilities. + +Presently he began to chuckle. “There's a bit notice on the gate +that nae dogs are admittet, but Bobby's sleepit on Auld Jock's grave +ane--twa--three--fower nichts, an' the gairdener doesna ken it, ava. +He's a canny beastie.” + +“Ay, he is. Folk wull be comin' frae miles aroond juist to leuk at +thesperity bit. Ilka body aboot kens Auld Jock. It'll be maist +michty news to tell at the kirk on the Sabbath, that he's buried i' +Greyfriars.” + +Through all this talk Bobby had lain quietly by the door, in the +expectation that it would be unlatched. Impatient of delay, he began to +whimper and to scratch on the panel. The lassie opened her blue eyes at +that, scrambled down, and ran to him. Instantly Bobby was up, tugging +at her short little gown and begging to be let out. When she clasped her +chubby arms around his neck and tried to comfort him he struggled free +and set up a dreadful howling. + +“Hoots, Bobby, stap yer havers!” shouted the farmer. + +“Eh, lassie, he'll deave us a'. We'll juist hae to put 'im i' the byre +wi' the coos for the nicht,” cried the distracted mither. + +“I want Bobby i' the bed wi' me. I'll cuddle 'im an' lo'e 'im till he +staps greetin'.” + +“Nae, bonny wee, he wullna stap.” The farmer picked the child up on one +arm, gripped the dog under the other, and the gude wife went before with +a lantern, across the dark farmyard to the cow-barn. When the stout door +was unlatched there was a smell of warm animals, of milk, and cured hay, +and the sound of full, contented breathings that should have brought a +sense of companionship to a grieving little creature. + +“Bobby wullna be lanely here wi' the coos, bairnie, an' i' the morn ye +can tak' a bit rope an' haud it in a wee hand so he canna brak awa', +an' syne, in a day or twa, he'll be forgettin' Auld Jock. Ay, ye'll hae +grand times wi' the sonsie doggie, rinnin' an' loupin' on the braes.” + +This argument was so convincing and so attractive that the little maid +dried her tears, kissed Bobby on the head again, and made a bed of +heather for him in a corner. But as they were leaving the byre fresh +doubts assailed her. + +“He'll gang awa' gin ye dinna tie 'im snug the nicht, faither.” + +“Sic a fulish bairn! Wi' fower wa's aroond 'im, an' a roof to 'is heid, +an' a floor to 'is fut, hoo could a sma' dog mak' a way oot?” + +It was a foolish notion, bred of fond anxiety, and so, reassured, the +child went happily back to the house and to rosy sleep in her little +closet bed. + +Ah! here was a warm place in a cold world for Bobby. A soft-hearted +little mistress and merry playmate was here, generous food, and human +society of a kind that was very much to a little farm dog's liking. Here +was freedom--wide moors to delight his scampering legs, adventures with +rabbits, foxes, hares and moor-fowl, and great spaces where no one's +ears would be offended by his loudest, longest barking. Besides, Auld +Jock had said, with his last breath, “Gang--awa'--hame--laddie!” It is +not to be supposed Bobby had forgotten that, since he remembered +and obeyed every other order of that beloved voice. But there, +self-interest, love of liberty, and the instinct of obedience, even, +sank into the abysses of the little creature's mind. Up to the top rose +the overmastering necessity of guarding the bit of sacred earth that +covered his master. + +The byre was no sooner locked than Bobby began, in the pitch darkness, +to explore the walls. The single promise of escape that was offered was +an inch-wide crack under the door, where the flooring stopped short and +exposed a strip of earth. That would have appalled any but a desperate +little dog. The crack was so small as to admit but one paw, at first, +and the earth was packed as hard as wood by generations of trampling +cattle. + +There he began to dig. He came of a breed of dogs used by farmers and +hunters to dig small, burrowing animals out of holes, a breed whose +courage and persistence know no limit. He dug patiently, steadily, hour +after hour, enlarging the hole by inches. Now and then he had to stop +to rest. When he was able to use both forepaws he made encouraging +progress; but when he had to reach under the door, quite the length of +his stretched legs, and drag every bit of earth back into the byre, the +task must have been impossible to any little creature not urged by utter +misery. But Skye terriers have been known to labor with such fury that +they have perished of their own exertions. Bobby's nose sniffed liberty +long before he could squeeze his weasel-like body through the tunnel. +His back bruised and strained by the struggle through a hole too small, +he stood, trembling with exhaustion, in the windy dawn. + +An opening door, a barking sheep-dog, the shuffle of the moving flock, +were signs that the farm day was beginning, although all the stars had +not faded out of the sky. A little flying shadow, Bobby slipped out of +the cow-yard, past the farm-house, and literally tumbled down the brae. +From one level to another he dropped, several hundred feet in a very few +minutes, and from the clear air of the breezy hilltop to a nether world +that was buried fathoms deep in a sea-fog as white as milk. + +Hidden in a deep fold of the spreading skirts of the range, and some +distance from the road, lay a pool, made by damming a burn, and used, in +the shearing season, for washing sheep. Surrounded by brushy woods, and +very damp and dark, at other seasons it was deserted. Bobby found this +secluded place with his nose, curled up under a hazel thicket and fell +sound asleep. And while he slept, a nipping wind from the far, northern +Highlands swooped down on the mist and sent it flying out to sea. The +Lowlands cleared like magic. From the high point where Bobby lay the +road could be seen to fall, by short rises and long descents, all the +way to Edinburgh. From its crested ridge and flanking hills the city +trailed a dusky banner of smoke out over the fishing fleet in the Firth. + +A little dog cannot see such distant views. Bobby could only read and +follow the guide-posts of odors along the way. He had begun the ascent +to the toll-bar when he heard the clatter of a cart and the pounding +of hoofs behind him. He did not wait to learn if this was the Cauldbrae +farmer in pursuit. Certain knowledge on that point was only to be gained +at his peril. He sprang into the shelter of a stone wall, scrambled over +it, worked his way along it a short distance, and disappeared into a +brambly path that skirted a burn in a woody dell. + +Immediately the little dog was lost in an unexplored country. The narrow +glen was musical with springs, and the low growth was undercut with a +maze of rabbit runs, very distracting to a dog of a hunting breed. Bobby +knew, by much journeying with Auld Jock, that running water is a natural +highway. Sheep drift along the lowest level until they find an outlet +down some declivity, or up some foaming steep, to new pastures. + +But never before had Bobby found, above such a rustic brook, a many +chimneyed and gabled house of stone, set in a walled garden and swathed +in trees. Today, many would cross wide seas to look upon Swanston +cottage, in whose odorous old garden a whey-faced, wistful-eyed laddie +dreamed so many brave and laughing dreams. It was only a farm-house +then, fallen from a more romantic history, and it had no attraction +for Bobby. He merely sniffed at dead vines of clematis, sleeping briar +bushes, and very live, bright hedges of holly, rounded a corner of its +wall, and ran into a group of lusty children romping on the brae, below +the very prettiest, thatch roofed and hill-sheltered hamlet within many +a mile of Edinboro' town. The bairns were lunching from grimy, mittened +hands, gypsy fashion, life being far too short and playtime too brief +for formal meals. Seeing them eating, Bobby suddenly discovered that he +was hungry. He rose before a well-provided laddie and politely begged +for a share of his meal. + +Such an excited shouting of admiration and calling on mithers to come +and see the bonny wee dog was never before heard on Swanston village +green. Doors flew open and bareheaded women ran out. Then the babies had +to be brought, and the' old grandfaithers and grandmithers. Everybody +oh-ed and ah-ed and clapped hands, and doubled up with laughter, for, +a tempting bit held playfully just out of reach, Bobby rose, again and +again, jumped for it, and chased a teasing laddie. Then he bethought him +to roll over and over, and to go through other winsome little tricks, +as Auld Jock had taught him to do, to win the reward. All this had one +quite unexpected result. A shrewd-eyed woman pounced upon Bobby and +captured him. + +“He's no' an ordinar' dog. Some leddy has lost her pet. I'll juist shut +'im up, an' syne she'll pay a shullin' or twa to get 'im again.” + +With a twist and a leap Bobby was gone. He scrambled straight up the +steep, thorn-clad wall of the glen, where no laddie could follow, and +was over the crest. It was a narrow escape, made by terrific effort. +His little heart pounding with exhaustion and alarm, he hid under a whin +bush to get his breath and strength. The sheltered dell was windless, +but here a stiff breeze blew. Suddenly shifting a point, the wind +brought to the little dog's nose a whiff of the acrid coal smoke of +Edinburgh three miles away. + +Straight as an arrow he ran across country, over roadway and wall, +plowed fields and rippling burns. He scrambled under hedges and dashed +across farmsteads and cottage gardens. As he neared the city the hour +bells aided him, for the Skye terrier is keen of hearing. It was growing +dark when he climbed up the last bank and gained Lauriston Place. There +he picked up the odors of milk and wool, and the damp smell of the +kirkyard. + +Now for something comforting to put into his famished little body. A +night and a day of exhausting work, of anxiety and grief, had used up +the last ounce of fuel. Bobby raced down Forest Road and turned the +slight angle into Greyfriars Place. The lamp lighter's progress toward +the bridge was marked by the double row of lamps that bloomed, one after +one, on the dusk. The little dog had come to the steps of Mr. Traill's +place, and lifted himself to scratch on the door, when the bugle began +to blow. He dropped with the first note and dashed to the kirkyard gate. + +None too soon! Mr. Brown was setting the little wicket gate inside, +against the wall. In the instant his back was turned, Bobby slipped +through. After nightfall, when the caretaker had made his rounds, he +came out from under the fallen table-tomb of Mistress Jean Grant. + +Lights appeared at the rear windows of the tenements, and families sat +at supper. It was snell weather again, the sky dark with threat of +snow, and the windows were all closed. But with a sharp bark beneath the +lowest of them Bobby could have made his presence and his wants known. +He watched the people eating, sitting wistfully about on his haunches +here and there, but remaining silent. By and by there were sounds of +crying babies, of crockery being washed, and the ringing of church +bells far and near. Then the lights were extinguished, and huge bulks of +shadow, of tenements and kirk, engulfed the kirkyard. + +When Bobby lay down on Auld Jock's grave, pellets of frozen snow were +falling and the air had hardened toward frost. + + + + +VI. + +Sleep alone goes far to revive a little dog, and fasting sharpens the +wits. Bobby was so tired that he slept soundly, but so hungry that he +woke early, and instantly alert to his situation. It was so very early +of a dark winter morning that not even the sparrows were out foraging in +the kirkyard for dry seeds. The drum and bugle had not been sounded from +the Castle when the milk and dustman's carts began to clatter over the +frozen streets. With the first hint of dawn stout fishwives, who had +tramped all the way in from the piers of Newhaven with heavily laden +creels on their heads, were lustily crying their “caller herrin'.” + Soon fagot men began to call up the courts of tenements, where fuel was +bought by the scant bundle: “Are ye cauld?” + +Many a human waif in the tall buildings about the lower end of +Greyfriars kirkyard was cold, even in bed, but, in his thick underjacket +of fleece, Bobby was as warm as a plate of breakfast toast. With a +vigorous shaking he broke and scattered the crust of snow that burdened +his shaggy thatch. Then he lay down on the grave again, with his nose +on his paws. Urgent matters occupied the little dog's mind. To deal with +these affairs he had the long head of the canniest Scot, wide and high +between the ears, and a muzzle as determined as a little steel trap. +Small and forlorn as he was, courage, resource and purpose marked him. + +As soon as the door of the caretaker's lodge opened he would have to +creep under the fallen slab again. To lie in such a cramped position, +hour after hour, day after day, was enough to break the spirit of any +warm blooded creature that lives. It was an exquisite form of torture +not long to be endured. And to get his single meal a day at Mr. Traill's +place Bobby had to watch for the chance opening of the wicket to slip in +and out like a thief. The furtive life is not only perilous, it outrages +every feeling of an honest dog. It is hard for him to live at all +without the approval and the cordial consent of men. The human order +hostile, he quickly loses his self-respect and drops to the pariah +class. Already wee Bobby had the look of the neglected. His pretty coat +was dirty and unkempt. In his run across country, leaves, twigs and +burrs had become entangled in his long hair, and his legs and underparts +were caked with mire. + +Instinctively any dog struggles to escape the fate of the outcast. By +every art he possesses he ingratiates himself with men. One that has his +usefulness in the human scheme of things often is able to make his own +terms with life, to win the niche of his choice. Bobby's one talent that +was of practical value to society was his hunting instinct for every +small animal that burrows and prowls and takes toll of men's labor. +In Greyfriars kirkyard was work to be done that he could do. For quite +three centuries rats and mice had multiplied in this old sanctuary +garden from which cats were chased and dogs excluded. Every breeze that +blew carried challenges to Bobby's offended nose. Now, in the crisp gray +dawn, a big rat came out into the open and darted here and there over +the powdering of dry snow that frosted the kirkyard. + +A leap, as if released from a spring, and Bobby captured it. A snap of +his long muzzle, a jerk of his stoutly set head, and the victim hung +limp from his grip. And he followed another deeply seated instinct when +he carried the slain to Auld Jock's grave. Trophies of the chase were +always to be laid at the feet of the master. + +“Gude dog! eh, but ye're a bonny wee fechter!” Auld Jock had always said +after such an exploit; and Bobby had been petted and praised until he +nearly wagged his crested tail off with happiness and pride. Then he had +been given some choice tidbit of food as a reward for his prowess. The +farmer of Cauldbrae had on such occasions admitted that Bobby might be +of use about barn and dairy, and Mr. Traill had commended his capture of +prowlers in the dining-room. But Bobby was “ower young” and had not been +“put to the vermin” as a definite business in life. He caught a rat, +now and then, as he chased rabbits, merely as a diversion. When he +had caught this one he lay down again. But after a time he got up +deliberately and trotted down to the encircling line of old courtyarded +tombs. There were nooks and crannies between and behind these along the +wall into which the caretaker could not penetrate with sickle, rake and +spade, that formed sheltered runways for rodents. + +A long, low, weasel-like dog that could flatten himself on the ground, +Bobby squeezed between railings and pedestals, scrambled over fallen +fragments of sculptured urns, trumpets, angels' wings, altars, skull and +cross-bones, and Latin inscribed scrolls. He went on his stomach under +holly and laurel shrubs, burdocks, thistles, and tangled, dead vines. +Here and there he lay in such rubbish as motionless as the effigies +careen on marble biers. With the growing light grew the heap of the +slain on Auld Jock's grave. + +Having done his best, Bobby lay down again, worse in appearance than +before, but with a stouter heart. He did not stir, although the shadows +fled, the sepulchers stood up around the field of snow, and slabs and +shafts camped in ranks on the slope. Smoke began to curl up from high, +clustered chimney-pots; shutters were opened, and scantily clad women +had hurried errands on decaying gallery and reeling stairway. Suddenly +the Castle turrets were gilded with pale sunshine, and all the little +cells in the tall, old houses hummed and buzzed and clacked with life. +The University bell called scattered students to morning prayers. +Pinched and elfish faces of children appeared at the windows overlooking +the kirkyard. The sparrows had instant news of that, and the little +winged beggars fluttered up to the lintels of certain deep-set +casements, where ill-fed bairns scattered breakfasts of crumbs. + +Bobby watched all this without a movement. He shivered when the lodge +door was heard to open and shut and heavy footsteps crunched on the +gravel and snow around the church. “Juist fair silly” on his quaking +legs he stood up, head and tail drooped. But he held his ground bravely, +and when the caretaker sighted him he trotted to meet the man, lifted +himself on his hind legs, his short, shagged fore paws on his breast, +begging attention and indulgence. Then he sprawled across the great +boots, asking pardon for the liberty he was taking. At last, all in a +flash, he darted back to the grave, sniffed at it, and stood again, head +up, plumy tail crested, all excitement, as much as to say: + +“Come awa' ower, man, an' leuk at the brave sicht.” + +If he could have barked, his meaning would have carried more +convincingly, but he “hauded 'is gab” loyally. And, alas, the caretaker +was not to be beguiled. Mr. Traill had told him Bobby had been sent +back to the hill farm, but here he was, “perseestent” little rascal, and +making some sort of bid for the man's favor. Mr. Brown took his pipe out +of his mouth in surprised exasperation, and glowered at the dog. + +“Gang awa' oot wi' ye!” + +But Bobby was back again coaxing undauntedly, abasing himself before +the angry man, insisting that he had something of interest to show. The +caretaker was literally badgered and cajoled into following him. One +glance at the formidable heap of the slain, and Mr. Brown dropped to a +seat on the slab. + +“Preserve us a'!” + +He stared from the little dog to his victims, turned them over with his +stout stick and counted them, and stared again. Bobby fixed his pleading +eyes on the man and stood at strained attention while fate hung in the +balance. + +“Guile wark! Guile wark! A braw doggie, an' an unco' fechter. Losh! but +ye're a deil o' a bit dog!” + +All this was said in a tone of astonished comment, so non-committal of +feeling that Bobby's tail began to twitch in the stress of his anxiety. +When the caretaker spoke again, after a long, puzzled frowning, it was +to express a very human bewilderment and irritation. + +“Noo, what am I gangin' to do wi' ye?” + +Ah, that was encouraging! A moment before, he had ordered Bobby out in +no uncertain tone. After another moment he referred the question to a +higher court. + +“Jeanie, woman, come awa' oot a meenit, wull ye?” + +A hasty pattering of carpet-slippered feet on the creaking snow, around +the kirk, and there was the neatest little apple-cheeked peasant woman +in Scotland, “snod” from her smooth, frosted hair, spotless linen mutch +and lawn kerchief, to her white, lamb's wool stockings. + +“Here's the bit dog I was tellin' ye aboot; an' see for yersel' what +he's done noo.” + +“The wee beastie couldna do a' that! It's as muckle as his ain wecht in +fou' vermin!” she cried. + +“Ay, he did. Thae terriers are sperity, by the ordinar'. Ane o' them, +let into the corn exchange a murky nicht, killed saxty in ten meenits, +an' had to be dragged awa' by the tail. Noo, what I am gangin' to do wi' +the takin' bit I dinna ken.” + +It is very certain that simple Mistress Jean Brown had never heard of +Mr. Dick's advice to Miss Betsy Trotwood on the occasion when young +David Copperfield presented himself, travel-stained and weary, before +his good aunt. But out of her experience of wholesome living she brought +forth the same wise opinion. + +“I'd gie him a gude washin' first of a', Jamie. He leuks like some +puir, gaen-aboot dog.” And she drew her short, blue-stuff gown back from +Bobby's grateful attentions. + +Mr. Brown slapped his corduroy-breeked knee and nodded his grizzled +head. “Richt ye are. It's maist michty, noo, I wadna think o' that. When +I was leevin' as an under gairdener wi' a laird i' Argyleshire I was aye +aboot the kennels wi' the gillies. That was lang syne. The sma' terrier +dogs were aye washed i' claes tubs wi' warm water an' soap. Come awa', +Bobby.” + +The caretaker got up stiffly, for such snell weather was apt to give +him twinges in his joints. In him a youthful enthusiasm for dogs had +suddenly revived. Besides, although he would have denied it, he was +relieved at having the main issue, as to what was to be done with this +four-footed trespasser, side-tracked for a time. Bobby followed him to +the lodge at an eager trot, and he dutifully hopped into the bath that +was set on the rear doorstep. Mr. Brown scrubbed him vigorously, +and Bobby splashed and swam and churned the soapy water to foam. He +scrambled out at once, when told to do so, and submitted to being dried +with a big, tow-linen towel. This was all a delightful novelty to Bobby. +Heretofore he had gone into any convenient tam or burn to swim, and then +dried himself by rolling on the heather and running before the wind. +Now he was bundled up ignominiously in an old flannel petticoat, carried +across a sanded kitchen floor and laid on a warm hearth. + +“Doon wi' ye!” was the gruff order. Bobby turned around and around on +the hearth, like some little wild dog making a bed in the jungle, before +he obeyed. He kept very still during the reading of a chapter and the +singing of a Psalm, as he had been taught to do at the farm by many +a reminder from Auld Jock's boot. And he kept away from the +breakfast-table, although the walls of his stomach were collapsed as +flat as the sides of an empty pocket. + +It was such a clean, shining little kitchen, with the scoured deal +table, chairs and cupboard, and the firelight from the grate winked +so on pewter mugs, copper kettle, willow-patterned plates and diamond +panes, that Bobby blinked too. Flowers bloomed in pots on the casement +sills, and a little brown skylark sang, fluttering as if it would soar, +in a gilded cage. After the morning meal Mr. Brown lighted his pipe +and put on his bonnet to go out again, when he bethought him that Bobby +might be needing something to eat. + +“What'll ye gie 'im, Jeanie? At the laird's, noo, the terriers were aye +fed wi' bits o' livers an' cheese an' moor fowls' eggs, an' sic-like, +fried.” + +“Havers, Jamie, it's no' releegious to feed a dog better than puir +bairns. He'll do fair weel wi' table-scraps.” + +She set down a plate with a spoonful of porridge on it, a cold potato, +some bread crusts, and the leavings of a broiled caller herrin'. It was +a generous breakfast for so small a dog, but Bobby had been without food +for quite forty hours, and had done an amazing amount of work in the +meantime. When he had eaten all of it, he was still hungry. As a polite +hint, he polished the empty plate with his pink tongue and looked up +expectantly; but the best-intentioned people, if they have had little to +do with dogs, cannot read such signs. + +“Ye needna lick the posies aff,” the wifie said, good humoredly, as she +picked the plate up to wash it. She thought to put down a tin basin of +water. Bobby lapped a' it so eagerly, yet so daintily, that she added: +“He's a weel-broucht-up tyke, Jamie.” + +“He is so. Noo, we'll see hoo weel he can leuk.” In a shamefaced way he +fetched from a tool-box a long-forgotten, strong little currycomb, such +as is used on shaggy Shetland ponies. With that he proceeded to give +Bobby such a grooming as he had never had before. It was a painful +operation, for his thatch was a stubborn mat of crisp waves and knotty +tangles to his plumy tail and down to his feathered toes. He braced +himself and took the punishment without a whimper, and when it was done +he stood cascaded with dark-silver ripples nearly to the floor. + +“The bonny wee!” cried Mistress Jeanie. “I canna tak' ma twa een aff o' +'im.” + +“Ay, he's bonny by the ordinar'. It wad be grand, noo, gin the +meenister'd fancy 'im an' tak' 'im into the manse.” + +The wifie considered this ruefully. “Jamie, I was wishin' ye didna hae +to--” + +But what she wished he did not have to do, Mr. Brown did not stop to +hear. He suddenly clapped his bonnet on his head and went out. He had +an urgent errand on High Street, to buy grass and flower seeds and tools +that would certainly be needed in April. It took him an hour or more +of shrewd looking about for the best bargains, in a swarm of little +barnacle and cellar shops, to spend a few of the kirk's shillings. When +he found himself, to his disgust, looking at a nail studded collar for +a little dog he called himself a “doited auld fule,” and tramped back +across the bridge. + +At the kirkyard gate he stopped and read the notice through twice: “No +dogs permitted.” That was as plain as “Thou shalt not.” To the pious +caretaker and trained servant it was the eleventh commandment. He shook +his head, sighed, and went in to dinner. Bobby was not in the house, and +the master of it avoided inquiring for him. He also avoided the +wifie's wistful eye, and he busied himself inside the two kirks all the +afternoon. + +Because he was in the kirks, and the beautiful memorial windows of +stained glass were not for the purpose of looking out, he did not see a +dramatic incident that occurred in the kirkyard after three o'clock in +the afternoon. The prelude to it really began with the report of the +timegun at one. Bobby had insisted upon being let out of the lodge +kitchen, and had spent the morning near Auld Jock's grave and in nosing +about neighboring slabs and thorn bushes. When the time-gun boomed he +trotted to the gate quite openly and waited there inside the wicket. + +In such nipping weather there were no visitors to the kirkyard and the +gate was not opened. The music bells ran the gamut of old Scotch airs +and ceased, while he sat there and waited patiently. Once a man stopped +to look at the little dog, and Bobby promptly jumped on the wicket, +plainly begging to have it unlatched. But the passer-by decided that +some lady had left her pet behind, and would return for him. So he +patted the attractive little Highlander on the head and went on about +his business. + +Discouraged by the unpromising outlook for dinner that day, Bobby went +slowly back to the grave. Twice afterward he made hopeful pilgrimages +to the gate. For diversion he fell noiselessly upon a prowling cat and +chased it out of the kirkyard. At last he sat upon the table-tomb. He +had escaped notice from the tenements all the morning because the view +from most of the windows was blocked by washings, hung out and dripping, +then freezing and clapping against the old tombs. It was half-past three +o'clock when a tiny, wizened face popped out of one of the rude little +windows in the decayed Cunzie Neuk at the bottom of Candlemakers Row. +Crippled Tammy Barr called out in shrill excitement, + +“Ailie! O-o-oh, Ailie Lindsey, there's the wee doggie!” + +“Whaur?” The lassie's elfin face looked out from a low, rear window of +the Candlemakers' Guildhall at the top of the Row. + +“On the stane by the kirk wa'.” + +“I see 'im noo. Isna he bonny? I wish Bobby could bide i' the kirkyaird, +but they wadna let 'im. Tammy, gin ye tak' 'im up to Maister Traill, +he'll gie ye the shullin'!” + +“I couldna tak' 'im by ma lane,” was the pathetic confession. “Wad ye +gang wi' me, Ailie? Ye could drap ower an' catch 'im, an' I could come +by the gate. Faither made me some grand crutches frae an' auld chair +back.” + +Tears suddenly drowned the lassie's blue eyes and ran down her pinched +little cheeks. “Nae, I couldna gang. I haena ony shoon to ma feet.” + +“It's no' so cauld. Gin I had twa guile feet I could gang the bit way +wi'oot shoon.” + +“I ken it isna so cauld,” Ailie admitted, “but for a lassie it's no' +respectable to gang to a grand place barefeeted.” + +That was undeniable, and the eager children fell silent and tearful. But +oh, necessity is the mother of makeshifts among the poor! Suddenly Ailie +cried: “Bide a meenit, Tammy,” and vanished. Presently she was back, +with the difficulty overcome. “Grannie says I can wear her shoon. She +doesna wear 'em i' the hoose, ava.” + +“I'll gie ye a saxpence, Ailie,” offered Tammy. + +The sordid bargain shocked no feeling of these tenement bairns +nor marred their pleasure in the adventure. Presently there was a +tap-tap-tapping of crutches on the heavy gallery that fronted the Cunzie +Neuk, and on the stairs that descended from it to the steep and curving +row. The lassie draped a fragment of an old plaid deftly over her thinly +clad shoulders, climbed through the window, to the pediment of the +classic tomb that blocked it, and dropped into the kirkyard. To her +surprise Bobby was there at her feet, frantically wagging his tail, +and he raced her to the gate. She caught him on the steps of the dining +room, and held his wriggling little body fast until Tammy came up. + +It was a tumultuous little group that burst in upon the astonished +landlord: barking fluff of an excited dog, flying lassie in clattering +big shoes, and wee, tapping Tammy. They literally fell upon him when he +was engaged in counting out his money. + +“Whaur did you find him?” asked Mr. Traill in bewilderment. + +Six-year-old Ailie slipped a shy finger into her mouth, and looked to +the very much more mature five-year old crippled laddie to answer, + +“He was i' the kirkyaird.” + +“Sittin' upon a stane by 'is ainsel',” added Ailie. + +“An' no' hidin', ava. It was juist like he was leevin' there.” + +“An' syne, when I drapped oot o' the window he louped at me so bonny, +an' I couldna keep up wi' 'im to the gate.” + +Wonder of wonders! It was plain that Bobby had made his way back from +the hill farm and, from his appearance and manner, as well as from this +account, it was equally clear that some happy change in his fortunes +had taken place. He sat up on his haunches listening with interest and +lolling his tongue! And that was a thing the bereft little dog had not +done since his master died. In the first pause in the talk he rose and +begged for his dinner. + +“Noo, what am I to pay? It took ane, twa, three o' ye to fetch ane sma' +dog. A saxpence for the laddie, a saxpence for the lassie, an' a bit +meal for Bobby.” + +While he was putting the plate down under the settle Mr. Traill heard +an amazed whisper “He's gien the doggie a chuckie bane.” The landlord +switched the plate from under Bobby's protesting little muzzle and +turned to catch the hungry look on the faces of the children. Chicken, +indeed, for a little dog, before these ill-fed bairns! Mr. Traill had a +brilliant thought. + +“Preserve me! I didna think to eat ma ain dinner. I hae so muckle to eat +I canna eat it by ma lane.” + +The idea of having too much to eat was so preposterously funny that +Tammy doubled up with laughter and nearly tumbled over his crutches. Mr. +Traill set him upright again. + +“Did ye ever gang on a picnic, bairnies?” And what was a picnic? Tammy +ventured the opinion that it might be some kind of a cart for lame +laddies to ride in. + +“A picnic is when ye gang gypsying in the summer,” Mr. Traill explained. +“Ye walk to a bonny green brae, an' sit doon under a hawthorntree a' +covered wi' posies, by a babblin' burn, an' ye eat oot o' yer ain hands. +An' syne ye hear a throstle or a redbreast sing an' a saucy blackbird +whustle.” + +“Could ye tak' a dog?” asked Tammy. + +“Ye could that, mannie. It's no' a picnic wi'oot a sonsie doggie to rin +on the brae wi' ye.” + +“Oh!” Ailie's blue eyes slowly widened in her pallid little face. “But +ye couldna hae a picnic i' the snawy weather.” + +“Ay, ye could. It's the bonniest of a' when ye're no' expectin' it. +I aye keep a picnic hidden i' the ingleneuk aboon.” He suddenly swung +Tammy up on his shoulder, and calling, gaily, “Come awa',” went out +the door, through another beside it, and up a flight of stairs to the +dining-room above. A fire burned there in the grate, the tables were +covered with linen, and there were blooming flowers in pots in the front +windows. Patrons from the University, and the well-to-do streets and +squares to the south and east, made of this upper room a sort of club in +the evenings. At four o'clock in the afternoon there were no guests. + +“Noo,” said Mr. Traill, when his overcome little guests were seated at +a table in the inglenook. “A picnic is whaur ye hae onything ye fancy +to eat; gude things ye wullna be haein' ilka day, ye mind.” He rang a +call-bell, and a grinning waiter laddie popped up so quickly the lassie +caught her breath. + +“Eneugh broo for aince,” said Tammy. + +“Porridge that isna burned,” suggested Ailie. Such pitiful poverty of +the imagination! + +“Nae, it's bread, an' butter, an' strawberry jam, an' tea wi' cream an' +sugar, an' cauld chuckie at a snawy picnic,” announced Mr. Traill. And +there it was, served very quickly and silently, after some manner of +magic. Bobby had to stand on the fourth chair to eat his dinner, and +when he had despatched it he sat up and viewed the little party with the +liveliest interest and happiness. + +“Tammy,” Ailie said, when her shyness had worn off, “it's like the grand +tales ye mak' up i' yer heid.” + +“Preserve me! Does the wee mannie mak' up stories?” + +“It's juist fulish things, aboot haein' mair to eat, an' a sonsie doggie +to play wi', an' twa gude legs to tak' me aboot. I think 'em oot at +nicht when I canna sleep.” + +“Eh, laddie, do ye noo?” Mr. Traill suddenly had a terrible “cauld in +'is heid,” that made his eyes water. “Hoo auld are ye?” + +“Five, gangin' on sax.” + +“Losh! I thoucht ye war fifty, gangin' on saxty.” Laughter saved the day +from overmoist emotions. And presently Mr. Traill was able to say in a +business-like tone: + +“We'll hae to tak' ye to the infirmary. An' if they canna mak' yer legs +ower ye'll get a pair o' braw crutches that are the niest thing to gude +legs. An' syne we'll see if there's no' a place in Heriot's for a sma' +laddie that mak's up bonny tales o' his ain in the murky auld Cunzie +Neuk.” + +Now the gay little feast was eaten, and early dark was coming on. If Mr. +Traill had entertained the hope that Bobby had recovered from his grief +and might remain with him, he was disappointed. The little dog began to +be restless. He ran to the door and back; he begged, and he scratched +on the panel. And then he yelped! As soon as the door was opened he shot +out of it, tumbled down the stairway and waited at the foot impatiently +for the lower door to be unlatched. Ailie's thin, swift legs were left +behind when Bobby dashed to the kirkyard. + +Tammy followed at a surprising pace on his rude crutches, and Mr. Traill +brought up the rear. If the children could not smuggle the frantic +little dog inside, the landlord meant to put him over the wicket and, if +necessary, to have it out with the caretaker, and then to go before the +kirk minister and officers with his plea. He was still concealed by the +buildings, from the alcoved gate, when he heard Mr. Brown's gruff voice +taking the frightened bairns to task. + +“Gie me the dog; an' dinna ye tak' him oot ony mair wi'oot spierin' me.” + +The children fled. Peeping around the angle of the Book Hunter's Stall, +Mr. Traill saw the caretaker lift Bobby over the wicket to his arms, and +start with him toward the lodge. He was perishing with curiosity about +this astonishing change of front on the part of Mr. Brown, but it was a +delicate situation in which it seemed best not to meddle. He went slowly +back to the restaurant, begrudging Bobby to the luckier caretaker. + +His envy was premature. Mr. Brown set Bobby inside the lodge kitchen and +announced briefly to his wife: “The bit dog wull sleep i' the hoose +the nicht.” And he went about some business at the upper end of the +kirkyard. When he came in an hour later Bobby was gone. + +“I couldna keep 'im in, Jamie. He didna blatter, but he greeted so sair +to be let oot, an syne he scratched a' the paint aff the door.” + +Mr. Brown glowered at her in exasperation. “Woman, they'll hae me up +afore kirk sessions for brakin' the rules, an' syne they'll turn us a' +oot i' the cauld warld togither.” + +He slammed the door and stormed angrily around the kirk. It was still +light enough to see the little creature on the snowy mound and, indeed, +Bobby got up and wagged his tail in friendly greeting. At that all the +bluster went out of the man, and he began to argue the matter with the +dog. + +“Come awa', Bobby. Ye canna be leevin' i' the kirkyaird.” + +Bobby was of a different opinion. He turned around and around, +thoughtfully, several times, then sat up on the grave. Entirely willing +to spend a social hour with his new friend, he fixed his eyes hospitably +upon him. Mr. Brown dropped to the slab, lighted his pipe, and smoked +for a time, to compose his agitated mind. By and by he got up briskly +and stooped to lift the little dog. At that Bobby dug his claws in the +clods and resisted with all his muscular body and determined mind. He +clung to the grave so desperately, and looked up so piteously, that the +caretaker surrendered. And there was snod Mistress Jeanie, forgetting +her spotless gown and kneeling in the snow. + +“Puir Bobby, puir wee Bobby!” she cried, and her tears fell on the +little tousled head. The caretaker strode abruptly away and waited for +the wifie in the shadow of the auld kirk. Bobby lifted his muzzle and +licked the caressing hand. Then he curled himself up comfortably on the +mound and went to sleep. + + + + +VIII. + +In no part of Edinburgh did summer come up earlier, or with more lavish +bloom, than in old Greyfriars kirkyard. Sheltered on the north and east, +it was open to the moist breezes of the southwest, and during all the +lengthening afternoons the sun lay down its slope and warmed the +rear windows of the overlooking tenements. Before the end of May the +caretaker had much ado to keep the growth in order. Vines threatened +to engulf the circling street of sepulchers in greenery and bloom, and +grass to encroach on the flower plots. + +A half century ago there were no rotary lawnmowers to cut off clover +heads; and, if there had been, one could not have been used on these +dropping terraces, so populous with slabs and so closely set with turfed +mounds and oblongs of early flowering annuals and bedding plants. Mr. +Brown had to get down on his hands and knees, with gardener's shears, +to clip the turfed borders and banks, and take a sickle to the hummocks. +Thus he could dig out a root of dandelion with the trowel kept ever in +his belt, consider the spreading crocuses and valley lilies, whether +to spare them, give a country violet its blossoming time, and leave a +screening burdock undisturbed until fledglings were out of their nests +in the shrubbery. + +Mistress Jeanie often brought out a little old milking stool on balmy +mornings, and sat with knitting or mending in one of the narrow aisles, +to advise her gude-mon in small matters. Bobby trotted quietly about, +sniffing at everything with the liveliest interest, head on this side or +that, alertly. His business, learned in his first summer in Greyfriars, +was to guard the nests of foolish skylarks, song-thrushes, redbreasts +and wrens, that built low in lilac, laburnum, and flowering currant +bushes, in crannies of wall and vault, and on the ground. It cannot +but be a pleasant thing to be a wee young dog, full of life and good +intentions, and to play one's dramatic part in making an old garden of +souls tuneful with bird song. A cry of alarm from parent or nestling +was answered instantly by the tiny, tousled policeman, and there was a +prowler the less, or a skulking cat was sent flying over tomb and wall. + +His duty done, without noise or waste of energy, Bobby returned to lie +in the sun on Auld Jock's grave. Over this beloved mound a coverlet of +rustic turf had been spread as soon as the frost was out of the ground, +and a bonny briar bush planted at the head. Then it bore nature's own +tribute of flowers, for violets, buttercups, daisies and clover blossoms +opened there and, later, a spike or so of wild foxglove and a knot of +heather. Robin redbreasts and wrens foraged around Bobby, unafraid; +swallows swooped down from their mud villages, under the dizzy dormers +and gables, to flush the flies on his muzzle, and whole flocks of little +blue titmice fluttered just overhead, in their rovings from holly and +laurel to newly tasseled firs and yew trees. + +The click of the wicket gate was another sort of alarm altogether. At +that the little dog slipped under the fallen table-tomb and lay hidden +there until any strange visitor had taken himself away. Except for two +more forced returns and ingenious escapes from the sheepfarm on the +Pentlands, Bobby had lived in the kirkyard undisturbed for six months. +The caretaker had neither the heart to put him out nor the courage to +face the minister and the kirk officers with a plea for him to remain. +The little dog's presence there was known, apparently, only to Mr. +Traill, to a few of the tenement dwellers, and to the Heriot boys. If +his life was clandestine in a way, it was as regular of hour and duty +and as well ordered as that of the garrison in the Castle. + +When the time-gun boomed, Bobby was let out for his midday meal at Mr. +Traill's and for a noisy run about the neighborhood to exercise his +lungs and legs. On Wednesdays he haunted the Grassmarket, sniffing at +horses, carts and mired boots. Edinburgh had so many shaggy little +Skye and Scotch terriers that one more could go about unremarked. Bobby +returned to the kirkyard at his own good pleasure. In the evening he was +given a supper of porridge and broo, or milk, at the kitchen door of the +lodge, and the nights he spent on Auld Jock's grave. The morning drum +and bugle woke him to the chase, and all his other hours were spent in +close attendance on the labors of the caretaker. The click of the wicket +gate was the signal for instant disappearance. + +A scramble up the wall from Heriot's Hospital grounds, or the patter +of bare feet on the gravel, however, was notice to come out and greet +a friend. Bobby was host to the disinherited children of the tenements. +Now, at the tap-tap-tapping of Tammy Barr's crutches, he scampered up +the slope, and he suited his pace to the crippled boy's in coming down +again. Tammy chose a heap of cut grass on which to sit enthroned and +play king, a grand new crutch for a scepter, and Bobby for a courtier. +At command, the little dog rolled over and over, begged, and walked on +his hind legs. He even permitted a pair of thin little arms to come near +strangling him, in an excess of affection. Then he wagged his tail and +lolled his tongue to show that he was friendly, and trotted away about +his business. Tammy took an oat-cake from his pocket to nibble, and +began a conversation with Mistress Jeanie. + +“I broucht a picnic wi' me.” + +“Did ye, noo? An' hoo did ye ken aboot picnics, laddie?” + +“Maister Traill was tellin' Ailie an' me. There's ilka thing to mak' +a picnic i' the kirkyaird. They couldna mak' my legs gude i' the +infairmary, but I'm gangin' to Heriot's. I'll juist hae to airn ma +leevin' wi' ma heid, an' no' remember aboot ma legs, ava. Is he no' a +bonny doggie?” + +“Ay, he's bonny. An' ye're a braw laddie no' to fash yersel' aboot what +canna be helped.” + +The wifie took his ragged jacket and mended it, dropped a tear in an +impossible hole, and a ha'penny in the one good pocket. And by and by +the pale laddie slept there among the bright graves, in the sun. After +another false alarm from the gate she asked her gude-mon, as she had +asked many times before: + +“What'll ye do, Jamie, when the meenister kens aboot Bobby, an' ca's ye +up afore kirk sessions for brakin' the rule?” + +“We wullna cross the brig till we come to the burn, woman,” he +invariably answered, with assumed unconcern. Well he knew that the +bridge might be down and the stream in flood when he came to it. But +Mr. Traill was a member of Greyfriars auld kirk, too, and a companion in +guilt, and Mr. Brown relied not a little on the landlord's fertile mind +and daring tongue. And he relied on useful, well-behaving Bobby to plead +his own cause. + +“There's nae denyin' the doggie is takin' in 'is ways. He's had twa +gude hames fair thrown at 'is heid, but the sperity bit keeps to 'is ain +mind. An' syne he's usefu', an' hauds 'is gab by the ordinar'.” He often +reinforced his inclination with some such argument. + +With all their caution, discovery was always imminent. The kirkyard was +long and narrow and on rising levels, and it was cut almost across by +the low mass of the two kirks, so that many things might be going on at +one end that could not be seen from the other. On this Saturday noon, +when the Heriot boys were let out for the half-holiday, Mr. Brown +kept an eye on them until those who lived outside had dispersed. When +Mistress Jeanie tucked her knitting-needles in her belt, and went up +to the lodge to put the dinner over the fire, the caretaker went down +toward Candlemakers Row to trim the grass about the martyrs' monument. +Bobby dutifully trotted at his heels. Almost immediately a half-dozen +laddies, led by Geordie Ross and Sandy McGregor, scaled the wall from +Heriot's grounds and stepped down into the kirkyard, that lay piled +within nearly to the top. They had a perfectly legitimate errand there, +but no mission is to be approached directly by romantic boyhood. + +“Hist!” was the warning, and the innocent invaders, feeling delightfully +lawless, stole over and stormed the marble castle, where “Bluidy” + McKenzie slept uneasily against judgment day. Light-hearted lads can do +daring deeds on a sunny day that would freeze their blood on a dark and +stormy night. So now Geordie climbed nonchalantly to a seat over the old +persecutor, crossed his stout, bare legs, filled an imaginary pipe, and +rattled the three farthings in his pocket. + +“I'm 'Jinglin' Geordie' Heriot,” he announced. + +“I'll show ye hoo a prood goldsmith ance smoked wi' a'.” Then, jauntily: +“Sandy, gie a crack to 'Bluidy' McKenzie's door an' daur the auld hornie +to come oot.” + +The deed was done amid breathless apprehensions, but nothing disturbed +the silence of the May noon except the lark that sprang at their feet +and soared singing into the blue. It was Sandy who presently whistled +like a blackbird to attract the attention of Bobby. + +There were no blackbirds in the kirkyard, and Bobby understood the +signal. He scampered up at once and dashed around the kirk, all +excitement, for he had had many adventures with the Heriot boys at +skating and hockey on Duddingston Lock in the winter, and tramps over +the country and out to Leith harbor in the spring. The laddies prowled +along the upper wall of the kirks, opened and shut the wicket, to give +the caretaker the idea that they had come in decorously by the gate, and +went down to ask him, with due respect and humility, if they could take +Bobby out for the afternoon. They were going to mark the places where +wild flowers might be had, to decorate “Jinglin' Geordie's” portrait, +statue and tomb at the school on Founder's Day. Mr. Brown considered +them with a glower that made the boys nudge each other knowingly. +“Saturday isna the day for 'im to be gaen aboot. He aye has a washin' +an' a groomin' to mak' 'im fit for the Sabbath. An', by the leuk o' ye, +ye'd be nane the waur for soap an' water yer ainsel's.” + +“We'll gie 'im 'is washin' an' combin' the nicht,” they volunteered, +eagerly. + +“Weel, noo, he wullna hae 'is dinner till the time-gun.” + +Neither would they. At that, annoyed by their persistence, Mr. Brown +denied authority. + +“Ye ken weel he isna ma dog. Ye'll hae to gang up an' spier Maister +Traill. He's fair daft aboot the gude-for-naethin' tyke.” + +This was understood as permission. As the boys ran up to the gate, with +Bobby at their heels, Mr. Brown called after them: “Ye fetch 'im hame +wi' the sunset bugle, an' gin ye teach 'im ony o' yer unmannerly ways +I'll tak' a stick to yer breeks.” + +When they returned to Mr. Traill's place at two o'clock the landlord +stood in shirt-sleeves and apron in the open doorway with Bobby, the +little dog gripping a mutton shank in his mouth. + +“Bobby must tak' his bone down first and hide it awa'. The Sabbath in +a kirkyard is a dull day for a wee dog, so he aye gets a catechism of a +bone to mumble over.” + +'The landlord sighed in open envy when the laddies and the little dog +tumbled down the Row to the Grassmarket on their gypsying. His eyes +sought out the glimpse of green country on the dome of Arthur's Seat, +that loomed beyond the University towers to the east. There are times +when the heart of a boy goes ill with the sordid duties of the man. + +Straight down the length of the empty market the laddies ran, through +the crooked, fascinating haunt of horses and jockeys in the street +of King's Stables, then northward along the fronts of quaint little +handicrafts shops that skirted Castle Crag. By turning westward into +Queensferry Street a very few minutes would have brought them to a bit +of buried country. But every expedition of Edinburgh lads of spirit of +that day was properly begun with challenges to scale Castle Rock from +the valley park of Princes Street Gardens on the north. + +“I daur ye to gang up!” was all that was necessary to set any group of +youngsters to scaling the precipice. By every tree and ledge, by every +cranny and point of rock, stoutly rooted hazel and thorn bush and clump +of gorse, they climbed. These laddies went up a quarter or a third +of the way to the grim ramparts and came cautiously down again. Bobby +scrambled higher, tumbled back more recklessly and fell, head over heels +and upside down, on the daisied turf. He righted himself at once, +and yelped in sharp protest. Then he sniffed and busied himself with +pretenses, in the elaborate unconcern with which a little dog denies +anything discreditable. There were legends of daring youth having +climbed this war-like cliff and laying hands on the fortress wall, but +Geordie expressed a popular feeling in declaring these tales “a' lees.” + +“No' ony laddie could gang a' the way up an' come doon wi' 'is heid +no' broken. Bobby couldna do it, an' he's mair like a wild fox than an +ordinar' dog. Noo, we're the Light Brigade at Balaklava. Chairge!” + +The Crimean War was then a recent event. Heroes of Sebastopol answered +the summons of drum and bugle in the Castle and fired the hearts of +Edinburgh youth. Cannon all around them, and “theirs not to reason why,” + this little band stormed out Queensferry Street and went down, hand +under hand, into the fairy underworld of Leith Water. + +All its short way down from the Pentlands to the sea, the Water of Leith +was then a foaming little river of mills, twisting at the bottom of a +gorge. One cliff-like wall or the other lay to the sun all day, so that +the way was lined with a profusion of every wild thing that turns green +and blooms in the Lowlands of Scotland. And it was filled to the brim +with bird song and water babble. + +A crowd of laddies had only to go inland up this gorge to find wild and +tame bloom enough to bury “Jinglin' Geordie” all over again every year. +But adventure was to be had in greater variety by dropping seaward with +the bickering brown water. These waded along the shallow margin, walked +on shelving sands of gold, and, where the channel was filled, they clung +to the rocks and picked their way along dripping ledges. Bobby missed no +chance to swim. If he could scramble over rough ground like a squirrel +or a fox, he could swim like an otter. Swept over the low dam at Dean +village, where a cup-like valley was formed, he tumbled over and over in +the spray and was all but drowned. As soon as he got his breath and his +bearings he struck out frantically for the bank, shook the foam from +his eyes and ears, and barked indignantly at the saucy fall. The white +miller in the doorway of the gray-stone, red-roofed mill laughed, and +anxious children ran down from a knot of storybook cottages and gay +dooryards. “I'll gie ye ten shullin's for the sperity bit dog,” the +miller shouted, above the clatter of the' wheel and the swish of the +dam. + +“He isna oor ain dog,” Geordie called back. “But he wullna droon. He's +got a gude heid to 'im, an' wullna be sic a bittie fule anither time.” + +Indeed he had a good head on him! Bobby never needed a second lesson. At +Silver Mills and Canon Mills he came out and trotted warily around the +dam. Where the gorge widened to a valley toward the sea they all climbed +up to Leith Walk, that ran to the harbor, and came out to a wonder-world +of water-craft anchored in the Firth. Each boy picked out his ship to go +adventuring. + +“I'm gangin' to Norway!” + +Geordie was scornful. “Hoots, ye tame pussies. Ye're fleid o' gettin' +yer feet wat. I'll be rinnin' aff to be a pirate. Come awa' doon.” + +They followed the leader along shore and boarded an abandoned and +evil-smelling fishingboat. There they ran up a ragged jacket for a black +flag. But sailing a stranded craft palled presently. + +“Nae, I'm gangin' to be a Crusoe. Preserve me! If there's no' a futprint +i' the sand! Bobby's ma sma' man Friday.” + +Away they ran southward to find a castaway's shelter in a hollow on the +golf links. Soon this was transformed into a wrecker's den, and +then into the hiding-place of a harried Covenanter fleeing religious +persecution. Daring things to do swarmed in upon their minds, for +Edinburgh laddies live in a city of romantic history, of soldiers, of +near-by mountains, and of sea rovings. No adventure served them five +minutes, and Bobby was in every one. Ah, lucky Bobby, to have such gay +playfellows on a sunny afternoon and under foot the open country! + +And fortunate laddies to have such a merry rascal of a wee dog with +them! To the mile they ran, Bobby went five, scampering in wide circles +and barking and louping at butterflies and whaups. He made a detour to +the right to yelp saucily at the red-coated sentry who paced before the +Gothic gateway to the deserted Palace of Holyrood, and as far to the +left to harry the hoofs of a regiment of cavalry drilling before the +barracks at Piershill. He raced on ahead and swam out to scatter the +fleet of swan sailing or the blue mirror of Duddingston Loch. + +The tired boys lay blissfully up the sunny side of Arthur's Seat in +a thicket of hazel while Geordie carried out a daring plan for which +privacy was needed. Bobby was solemnly arraigned before a court on the +charge of being a seditious Covenanting meenister, and was required to +take the oath of loyalty to English King and Church on pain of being +hanged in the Grassmarket. The oath had been duly written out on paper +and greased with mutton tallow to make it more palatable. Bobby licked +the fat off with relish. Then he took the paper between his sharp little +teeth and merrily tore it to shreds. And, having finished it, he barked +cheerful defiance at the court. The lads came near rolling down the +slope with laughter, and they gave three cheers for the little hero. +Sandy remarked, “Ye wadna think, noo, sic a sonsie doggie wad be leevin' +i' the murky auld kirkyaird.” + +Bobby had learned the lay of the tipped-up and scooped-out and jumbled +auld toon, and he led the way homeward along the southern outskirts of +the city. He turned up Nicolson Street, that ran northward, past the +University and the old infirmary. To get into Greyfriars Place from the +east at that time one had to descend to the Cowgate and climb out again. +Bobby darted down the first of the narrow wynds. + +Suddenly he turned 'round and 'round in bewilderment, then shot through +a sculptured door way, into a well-like court, and up a flight of stone +stairs. The slamming of a shutter overhead shocked him to a standstill +on the landing and sent him dropping slowly down again. What memories +surged back to his little brain, what grief gripped his heart, as he +stood trembling on a certain spot in the pavement where once a long deal +box had rested! + +“What ails the bittie dog?” There was something here that sobered the +thoughtless boys. “Come awa', Bobby!” + +At that he came obediently enough. But he trotted down the very +middle of the wynd, head and tail low, and turned unheeding into the +Saturday-evening roar of the Cowgate. He refused to follow them up +the rise between St. Magdalen's Chapel and the eastern parapet of the +bridge, but kept to his way under the middle arch into the Grassmarket. +By way of Candlemakers Row he gained the kirkyard gate, and when the +wicket was opened he disappeared around the church. When Bobby failed +to answer calls, Mr. Brown grumbled, but went after him. The little dog +submitted to his vigorous scrubbing and grooming, but he refused his +supper. Without a look or a wag of the tail he was gone again. + +“Noo, what hae ye done to'im? He's no' like 'is ainsel' ava.” + +They had done nothing, indeed. They could only relate Bobby's strange +behavior in College Wynd and the rest of the way home. Mistress Jeanie +nodded her head, with the wisdom of women that is of the heart. + +“Eh, Jamie, that wad be whaur 'is maister deed sax months syne.” And +having said it she slipped down the slope with her knitting and sat on +the mound beside the mourning little dog. + +When the awe-struck lads asked for the story Mr. Brown shook his head. +“Ye spier Maister Traill. He kens a' aboot it; an' syne he can talk like +a beuk.” + +Before they left the kirkyard the laddies walked down to Auld Jock's +grave and patted Bobby on the head, and they went away thoughtfully to +their scattered homes. + +As on that first morning when his grief was new, Bobby woke to a +Calvinistic Sabbath. There were no rattling carts or hawkers crying +their wares. Steeped in sunshine, the Castle loomed golden into the +blue. Tenement dwellers slept late, and then moved about quietly. +Children with unwontedly clean faces came out to galleries and stairs to +study their catechisms. Only the birds were unaware of the seventh day, +and went about their melodious business; and flower buds opened to the +sun. + +In mid-morning there suddenly broke on the sweet stillness that clamor +of discordant bells that made the wayfarer in Edinburgh stop his ears. +All the way from Leith Harbor to the Burghmuir eight score of warring +bells contended to be heard. Greyfriars alone was silent in that +babblement, for it had lost tower and bell in an explosion of gunpowder. +And when the din ceased at last there was a sound of military music. The +Castle gates swung wide, and a kilted regiment marched down High +Street playing “God Save the Queen.” When Bobby was in good spirits the +marching music got into his legs and set him to dancing scandalously. +The caretaker and his wifie always came around the kirk on pleasant +mornings to see the bonny sight of the gay soldiers going to church. + +To wee Bobby these good, comfortable, everyday friends of his must have +seemed strange in their black garments and their serious Sunday faces. +And, ah! the Sabbath must, indeed, have been a dull day to the little +dog. He had learned that when the earliest comer clicked the wicket he +must go under the table-tomb and console himself with the extra bone +that Mr. Traill never failed to remember. With an hour's respite for +dinner at the lodge, between the morning and afternoon services, he lay +there all day. The restaurant was closed, and there was no running about +for good dogs. In the early dark of winter he could come out and trot +quietly about the silent, deserted place. + +As soon as the crocuses pushed their green noses through the earth in +the spring the congregation began to linger among the graves, for to +see an old burying ground renew its life is a peculiar promise of the +resurrection. By midsummer visitors were coming from afar, some even +from over-sea, to read the quaint inscriptions on the old tombs, or to +lay tributes of flowers on the graves of poets and religious heroes. It +was not until the late end of such a day that Bobby could come out of +hiding to stretch his cramped legs. Then it was that tenement children +dropped from low windows, over the tombs, and ate their suppers of oat +cake there in the fading light. + +When Mr. Traill left the kirkyard in the bright evening of the last +Sunday in May he stopped without to wait for Dr. Lee, the minister of +Greyfriars auld kirk, who had been behind him to the gate. Now he was +nowhere to be seen. With Bobby ever in the background of his mind, at +such times of possible discovery, Mr. Traill reentered the kirkyard. +The minister was sitting on the fallen slab, tall silk hat off, with Mr. +Brown standing beside him, uncovered and miserable of aspect, and Bobby +looking up anxiously at this new element in his fate. + +“Do you think it seemly for a dog to be living in the churchyard, Mr. +Brown?” The minister's voice was merely kind and inquiring, but the +caretaker was in fault, and this good English was disconcerting. +However, his conscience acquitted him of moral wrong, and his sturdy +Scotch independence came to the rescue. + +“Gin a bit dog, wha hands 'is gab, isna seemly, thae pussies are the +deil's ain bairns.” + +The minister lifted his hand in rebuke. “Remember the Sabbath Day. And I +see no cats, Mr. Brown.” + +“Ye wullna see ony as lang as the wee doggie is leevin' i' the +kirkyaird. An' the vermin hae sneekit awa' the first time sin' Queen +Mary's day. An' syne there's mair singin' birdies than for mony a year.” + +Mr. Traill had listened, unseen. Now he came forward with a gay +challenge in broad Scotch to put the all but routed caretaker at his +ease. + +“Doctor, I hae a queistion to spier ye. Which is mair unseemly: a +weel-behavin' bittie tyke i' the kirkyaird or a scandalous organ i' the +kirk?” + +“Ah, Mr. Traill, I'm afraid you're a sad, irreverent young dog yourself, +sir.” The minister broke into a genial laugh. “Man, you've spoiled a bit +of fun I was having with Mr. Brown, who takes his duties 'sairiously.”' +He sat looking down at the little dog until Bobby came up to him and +stood confidingly under his caressing hand. Then he added: “I have +suspected for some months that he was living in the churchyard. It is +truly remarkable that an active, noisy little Skye could keep so still +about it.” + +At that Mr. Brown retreated to the martyrs' monument to meditate on +the unministerial behavior of this minister and professor of Biblical +criticism in the University. Mr. Traill, however, sat himself down +on the slab for a pleasant probing into the soul of this courageous +dominie, who had long been under fire for his innovations in the kirk +services. + +“I heard of Bobby first early in the winter, from a Bible-reader at the +Medical Mission in the Cowgate, who saw the little dog's master buried. +He sees many strange, sad things in his work, but nothing ever shocked +him so as the lonely death of that pious old shepherd in such a +picturesque den of vice and misery.” + +“Ay, he went from my place, fair ill, into the storm. I never knew whaur +the auld man died.” + +The minister looked at Mr. Traill, struck by the note of remorse in his +tone. + +“The missionary returned to the churchyard to look for the dog that had +refused to leave the grave. He concluded that Bobby had gone away to +a new home and master, as most dogs do go sooner or later. Some weeks +afterward the minister of a small church in the hills inquired for him +and insisted that he was still here. This last week, at the General +Assembly, I heard of the wee Highlander from several sources. The tales +of his escapes from the sheep-farm have grown into a sort of Odyssey of +the Pentlands. I think, perhaps, if you had not continued to feed him, +Mr. Traill, he might have remained at his old home.” + +“Nae, I'm no' thinking so, and I was no' willing to risk the starvation +of the bonny, leal Highlander.” + +Until the stars came out Mr. Traill sat there telling the story. At +mention of his master's name Bobby returned to the mound and stretched +himself across it. “I will go before the kirk officers, Doctor Lee, +and tak' full responseebility. Mr. Brown is no' to blame. It would have +tak'n a man with a heart of trap-rock to have turned the woeful bit dog +out.” + +“He is well cared for and is of a hardy breed, so he is not likely to +suffer; but a dog, no more than a man, cannot live on bread alone. His +heart hungers for love.” + +“Losh!” cried Mr. Brown. “Are ye thinkin' he isna gettin' it? Oor bairns +are a' oot o' the hame nest, an' ma woman, Jeanie, is fair daft aboot +Bobby, aye thinkin' he'll tak' the measles. An' syne, there's a' the +tenement bairns cryin' oot on 'im ilka meenit, an' ane crippled laddie +he een lets fondle 'im.” + +“Still, it would be better if he belonged to some one master. +Everybody's dog is nobody's dog,” the minister insisted. “I wish you +could attach him to you, Mr. Traill.” + +“Ay, it's a disappointment to me that he'll no' bide with me. Perhaps, +in time--” + +“It's nae use, ava,” Mr. Brown interrupted, and he related the incident +of the evening before. “He's cheerfu' eneugh maist o' the time, an' +likes to be wi' the laddies as weel as ony dog, but he isna forgettin' +Auld Jock. The wee doggie cam' again to 'is maister's buryin'. Man, ye +ne'er saw the like o' it. The wifie found 'im flattened oot to a furry +door-mat, an' greetin' to brak 'is heart.” + +“It's a remarkable story; and he's a beautiful little dog, and a leal +one.” The minister stooped and patted Bobby, and he was thoughtful all +the way to the gate. + +“The matter need not be brought up in any formal way. I will speak +to the elders and deacons about it privately, and refer those wanting +details to you, Mr. Traill. Mr. Brown,” he called to the caretaker who +stood in the lodge door, “it cannot be pleasing to God to see the little +creature restrained. Give Bobby his liberty on the Sabbath.” + + + + +VIII. + +It was more than eight years after Auld Jock fled from the threat of a +doctor that Mr. Traill's prediction, that his tongue would get him into +trouble with the magistrates, was fulfilled; and then it was because of +the least-considered slip in speaking to a boyhood friend who happened +to be a Burgh policeman. + +Many things had tried the landlord of Ye Olde Greyfriars Dining-Rooms. +After a series of soft April days, in which lilacs budded and birds sang +in the kirkyard, squalls of wind and rain came up out of the sea-roaring +east. The smoky old town of Edinburgh was so shaken and beaten upon and +icily drenched that rattling finials and tiles were torn from ancient +gables and whirled abroad. Rheumatic pains were driven into the joints +of the elderly. Mr. Brown took to his bed in the lodge, and Mr. Traill +was touchy in his temper. + +A sensitive little dog learns to read the human barometer with a degree +of accuracy rarely attained by fellowmen and, in times of low pressure, +wisely effaces himself. His rough thatch streaming, Bobby trotted in +blithely for his dinner, ate it under the settle, shook himself dry, and +dozed half the afternoon. + +To the casual observer the wee terrier was no older than when his master +died. As swift of foot and as sound of wind as he had ever been, he +could tear across country at the heels of a new generation of Heriot +laddies and be as fresh as a daisy at nightfall. Silvery gray all over, +the whitening hairs on his face and tufted feet were not visible. His +hazel-brown eyes were still as bright and soft and deep as the sunniest +pools of Leith Water. It was only when he opened his mouth for a tiny, +pink cavern of a yawn that the points of his teeth could be seen to be +wearing down; and his after-dinner nap was more prolonged than of old. +At such times Mr. Traill recalled that the longest life of a dog is no +more than a fifth of the length of days allotted to man. + +On that snarling April day, when only himself and the flossy ball of +sleeping Skye were in the place, this thought added to Mr. Traill's +discontent. There had been few guests. Those who had come in, soaked and +surly, ate their dinner in silence and discomfort and took themselves +away, leaving the freshly scrubbed floor as mucky as a moss-hag on the +moor. Late in the afternoon a sergeant, risen from the ranks and cocky +about it, came in and turned himself out of a dripping greatcoat, dapper +and dry in his red tunic, pipe-clayed belt, and winking buttons. He +ordered tea and toast and Dundee marmalade with an air of gay well-being +that was no less than a personal affront to a man in Mr. Traill's frame +of mind. Trouble brewed with the tea that Ailie Lindsey, a tall lassie +of fifteen, but shy and elfish as of old, brought in on a tray from the +scullery. + +When this spick-and-span non-commissioned officer demanded Mr. Traill's +price for the little dog that took his eye, the landlord replied curtly +that Bobby was not for sale. The soldier was insolently amused. + +“That's vera surprisin'. I aye thoucht an Edinburgh shopkeeper wad sell +ilka thing he had, an' tak' the siller to bed wi' 'im to keep 'im snug +the nicht.” + +Mr. Traill returned, with brief sarcasm, that “his lairdship” had been +misinformed. + +“Why wull ye no' sell the bit dog?” the man insisted. + +The badgered landlord turned upon him and answered at length, after the +elaborate manner of a minister who lays his sermon off in sections, + +“First: he's no' my dog to sell. Second: he's a dog of rare +discreemination, and is no' like to tak' you for a master. Third: you +soldiers aye have with you a special brand of shulling-a-day impudence. +And, fourth and last, my brither: I'm no' needing your siller, and I can +manage to do fair weel without your conversation.” + +As this bombardment proceeded, the sergeant's jaw dropped. When it was +finished he laughed heartily and slapped his knee. “Man, come an' brak +bread wi' me or I'll hae to brak yer stiff neck.” + +A truce was declared over a cozy pot of tea, and the two became at +least temporary friends. It was such a day that the landlord would have +gossiped with a gaol bird; and when a soldier who has seen years of +service, much of it in strange lands, once admits a shopkeeper to +equality, he can be affable and entertaining “by the ordinar'.” Mr. +Traill sketched Bobby's story broadly, and to a sympathetic listener; +and the soldier told the landlord of the animals that had lived and died +in the Castle. + +Parrots and monkeys and strange dogs and cats had been brought there by +regiments returning from foreign countries and colonies. But most of the +pets had been native dogs--collies, spaniels and terriers, and animals +of mixed breeds and of no breed at all, but just good dogs. No one knew +when the custom began, but there was an old and well-filled cemetery +for the Castle pets. When a dog died a little stone was set up, with +the name of the animal and the regiment to which it had belonged on it. +Soldiers often went there among the tiny mounds and told stories of the +virtues and taking ways of old favorites. And visitors read the names of +Flora and Guy and Dandie, of Prince Charlie and Rob Roy, of Jeanie and +Bruce and Wattie. It was a merry life for a dog in the Castle. He +was petted and spoiled by homesick men, and when he died there were a +thousand mourners at his funeral. + +“Put it to the bit Skye noo. If he tak's the Queen's shullin' he belongs +to the army.” The sergeant flipped a coin before Bobby, who was wagging +his tail and sniffing at the military boots with his ever lively +interest in soldiers. + +He looked up at the tossed coin indifferently, and when it fell to the +floor he let it lie. “Siller” has no meaning to a dog. His love can be +purchased with nothing less than his chosen master's heart. The soldier +sighed at Bobby's indifference. He introduced himself as Sergeant Scott, +of the Royal Engineers, detailed from headquarters to direct the work +in the Castle crafts shops. Engineers rank high in pay and in +consideration, and it was no ordinary Jack of all trades who had expert +knowledge of so many skilled handicrafts. Mr. Traill's respect and +liking for the man increased with the passing moments. + +As the sergeant departed he warned Mr. Traill, laughingly, that he meant +to kidnap Bobby the very first chance he got. The Castle pet had died, +and Bobby was altogether too good a dog to be wasted on a moldy auld +kirkyard and thrown on a dust-cart when he came to die. + +Mr. Traill resented the imputation. “He'll no' be thrown on a +dust-cart!” + +The door was shut on the mocking retort “Hoo do ye ken he wullna?” + +And there was food for gloomy reflection. The landlord could not know, +in truth, what Bobby's ultimate fate might be. But little over nine +years of age, he should live only five or six years longer at most. Of +his friends, Mr. Brown was ill and aging, and might have to give place +to a younger man. He himself was in his prime, but he could not be +certain of living longer than this hardy little dog. For the first +time he realized the truth of Dr. Lee's saying that everybody's dog was +nobody's dog. The tenement children held Bobby in a sort of community +affection. He was the special pet of the Heriot laddies, but a class was +sent into the world every year and was scattered far. Not one of all the +hundreds of bairns who had known and loved this little dog could give +him any real care or protection. + +For the rest, Bobby had remained almost unknown. Many of the +congregations of old and new Greyfriars had never seen or heard of him. +When strangers were about he seemed to prefer lying in his retreat under +the fallen tomb. His Sunday-afternoon naps he usually took in the lodge +kitchen. And so, it might very well happen that his old age would be +friendless, that he would come to some forlorn end, and be carried away +on the dustman's cart. It might, indeed, be better for him to end +his days in love and honor in the Castle. But to this solution of the +problem Mr. Traill himself was not reconciled. + +Sensing some shifting of the winds in the man's soul, Bobby trotted over +to lick his hand. Then he sat up on the hearth and lolled his tongue, +reminding the good landlord that he had one cheerful friend to bear him +company on the blaw-weary day. It was thus they sat, companionably, +when a Burgh policeman who was well known to Mr. Traill came in to +dry himself by the fire. Gloomy thoughts were dispelled at once by the +instinct of hospitality. + +“You're fair wet, man. Pull a chair to the hearth. And you have a bit +smut on your nose, Davie.” + +“It's frae the railway engine. Edinburgh was a reekie toon eneugh +afore the engines cam' in an' belched smuts in ilka body's faces.” The +policeman was disgusted and discouraged by three days of wet clothing, +and he would have to go out into the rain again before he got dry. +Nothing occurred to him to talk about but grievances. + +“Did ye ken the Laird Provost, Maister Chambers, is intendin' to knock +a lang hole aboon the tap o' the Coogate wynds? It wull mak' a braid +street ye can leuk doon frae yer doorway here. The gude auld days +gangin' doon in a muckle dust!” + +“Ay, the sun will peep into foul places it hasn't seen sin' Queen Mary's +day. And, Davie, it would be more according to the gude auld customs +you're so fond of to call Mr. William Chambers 'Glenormiston' for his +bit country place.” + +“He's no' a laird.” + +“Nae; but he'll be a laird the next time the Queen shows her bonny face +north o' the Tweed. Tak' 'a cup o' kindness' with me, man. Hot tay will +tak' the cauld out of vour disposeetion.” Mr. Traill pulled a bell-cord +and Ailie, unused as yet to bells, put her startled little face in at +the door to the scullery. At sight of the policeman she looked more than +ever like a scared rabbit, and her hands shook when she set the tray +down before him. A tenement child grew up in an atmosphere of hostility +to uniformed authority, which seldom appeared except to interfere with +what were considered personal affairs. + +The tea mollified the dour man, but there was one more rumbling. “I'm +no' denyin' the Provost's gude-hearted. Ance he got up a hame for +gaen-aboot dogs, an' he had naethin' to mak' by that. But he canna keep +'is spoon oot o' ilka body's porridge. He's fair daft to tear doon the +wa's that cut St. Giles up into fower, snod, white kirks, an' mak' it +the ane muckle kirk it was in auld Papist days. There are folk that say, +gin he doesna leuk oot, anither kale wifie wull be throwin' a bit stool +at 'is meddlin' heid.” + +“Eh, nae doubt. There's aye a plentifu' supply o' fules in the warld.” + +Seeing his good friend so well entertained, and needing his society no +longer, Bobby got up, wagged his tail in farewell, and started toward +the door. Mr. Traill summoned the little maid and spoke to her kindly: +“Give Bobby a bone, lassie, and then open the door for him.” + +In carrying out these instructions Ailie gave the policeman as wide +leeway as possible and kept a wary eye upon him. The officer's duties +were chiefly up on High Street. He seldom crossed the bridge, and it +happened that he had never seen Bobby before. Just by way of making +conversation he remarked, “I didna ken ye had a dog, John.” + +Ailie stopped stock still, the cups on the tray she was taking out +tinkling from her agitation. It was thus policemen spoke at private +doors in the dark tenements: “I didna ken ye had the smallpox.” But +Mr. Traill seemed in no way alarmed. He answered with easy indulgence +“That's no' surprising. There's mony a thing you dinna ken, Davie.” + +The landlord forgot the matter at once, but Ailie did not, for she saw +the officer flush darkly and, having no answer ready, go out in silence. +In truth, the good-humored sarcasm rankled in the policeman's breast. An +hour later he suddenly came to a standstill below the clock tower of the +Tron kirk on High Street, and he chuckled. + +“Eh, John Traill. Ye're unco' weel furnished i' the heid, but there's +ane or twa things ye dinna ken yer ainsel'.” + +Entirely taken up with his brilliant idea, he lost no time in putting it +to work. He dodged among the standing cabs and around the buttresses of +St. Giles that projected into the thoroughfare. In the mid-century +there was a police office in the middle of the front of the historic old +cathedral that had then fallen to its lowest ebb of fortune. There the +officer reported a matter that was strictly within the line of his duty. + +Very early the next morning he was standing before the door of Mr. +Traill's place, in the fitful sunshine of clearing skies, when the +landlord appeared to begin the business of the day. + +“Are ye Maister John Traill?” + +“Havers, Davie! What ails you, man? You know my name as weel as you know +your ain.” + +“It's juist a formality o' the law to mak' ye admit yer identity. Here's +a bit paper for ye.” He thrust an official-looking document into Mr. +Traill's hand and took himself away across the bridge, fair satisfied +with his conduct of an affair of subtlety. + +It required five minutes for Mr. Traill to take in the import of the +legal form. Then a wrathful explosion vented itself on the unruly key +that persisted in dodging the keyhole. But once within he read the +paper again, put it away thoughtfully in an inner pocket, and outwardly +subsided to his ordinary aspect. He despatched the business of the day +with unusual attention to details and courtesy to guests, and when, in +mid afternoon, the place was empty, he followed Bobby to the kirkyard +and inquired at the lodge if he could see Mr. Brown. + +“He isna so ill, noo, Maister Traill, but I wadna advise ye to hae +muckle to say to 'im.” Mistress Jeanie wore the arch look of the wifie +who is somewhat amused by a convalescent husband's ill humors. “The +pains grupped 'im sair, an' noo that he's easier he'd see us a' hanged +wi' pleesure. Is it onything by the ordinar'?” + +“Nae. It's just a sma' matter I can attend to my ainsel'. Do you think +he could be out the morn?” + +“No' afore a week or twa, an' syne, gin the bonny sun comes oot to bide +a wee.” + +Mr. Traill left the kirkyard and went out to George Square to call upon +the minister of Greyfriars auld kirk. The errand was unfruitful, and he +was back in ten minutes, to spend the evening alone, without even the +consolation of Bobby's company, for the little dog was unhappy outside +the kirkyard after sunset. And he took an unsettling thought to bed with +him. + +Here was a pretty kettle of fish, indeed, for a respected member of a +kirk and middle-aged business man to fry in. Through the legal verbiage +Mr. Traill made out that he was summoned to appear before whatever +magistrate happened to be sitting on the morrow in the Burgh court, to +answer to the charge of owning, or harboring, one dog, upon which he had +not paid the license tax of seven shillings. + +For all its absurdity it was no laughing matter. The municipal court of +Edinburgh was of far greater dignity than the ordinary justice court +of the United Kingdom and of America. The civic bench was occupied, in +turn, by no less a personage than the Lord Provost as chief, and by +five other magistrates elected by the Burgh council from among its own +membership. Men of standing in business, legal and University circles, +considered it an honor and a duty to bring their knowledge and +responsibility to bear on the pettiest police cases. + +It was morning before Mr. Traill had the glimmer of an idea to take with +him on this unlucky business. An hour before the opening of court he +crossed the bridge into High Street, which was then as picturesquely +Gothic and decaying and overpopulated as the Cowgate, but high-set, +wind-swept and sun-searched, all the way up the sloping mile from +Holyrood Palace to the Castle. The ridge fell away steeply, through +rifts of wynds and closes, to the Cowgate ravine on the one hand, and to +Princes Street's parked valley on the other. Mr. Traill turned into the +narrow descent of Warriston Close. Little more than a crevice in the +precipice of tall, old buildings, on it fronted a business house whose +firm name was known wherever the English language was read: “W. and R. +Chambers, Publishers.” + +From top to bottom the place was gas-lit, even on a sunny spring +morning, and it hummed and clattered with printing-presses. No one was +in the little anteroom to the editorial offices beside a young clerk, +but at sight of a red-headed, freckle-faced Heriot laddie of Bobby's +puppyhood days Mr. Traill's spirits rose. + +“A gude day to you, Sandy McGregor; and whaur's your auld twin +conspirator, Geordie Ross?” + +“He's a student in the Medical College, Mr. Traill. He went by this +meenit to the Botanical Garden for herbs my grandmither has aye known +without books.” Sandy grinned in appreciation of this foolishness, +but he added, with Scotch shrewdness, “It's gude for the book-prenting +beesiness.” + +“It is so,” the landlord agreed, heartily. “But you must no' be +forgetting that the Chambers brothers war book readers and sellers +before they war publishers. You are weel set up in life, laddie, and +Heriot's has pulled the warst of the burrs from your tongue. I'm wanting +to see Glenormiston.” + +“Mr. William Chambers is no' in. Mr. Robert is aye in, but he's no' +liking to be fashed about sma' things.” + +“I'll no' trouble him. It's the Lord Provost I'm wanting, on ofeecial +beesiness.” He requested Sandy to ask Glenormiston, if he came in, to +come over to the Burgh court and spier for Mr. Traill. + +“It's no' his day to sit as magistrate, and he's no' like to go unless +it's a fair sairious matter.” + +“Ay, it is, laddie. It's a matter of life and death, I'm thinking!” + He smiled grimly, as it entered his head that he might be driven to do +violence to that meddling policeman. The yellow gas-light gave his face +such a sardonic aspect that Sandy turned pale. + +“Wha's death, man?” + +Mr. Traill kept his own counsel, but at the door he turned: “You'll no' +be remembering the bittie terrier that lived in the kirkyard?” + +The light of boyhood days broke in Sandy's grin. “Ay, I'll no' be +forgetting the sonsie tyke. He was a deil of a dog to tak' on a holiday. +Is he still faithfu' to his dead master?” + +“He is that; and for his faithfu'ness he's like to be dead himsel'. The +police are takin' up masterless dogs an' putting them out o' the way. +I'll mak' a gude fight for Bobby in the Burgh court.” + +“I'll fight with you, man.” The spirit of the McGregor clan, though +much diluted and subdued by town living, brought Sandy down from a +three-legged stool. He called another clerk to take his place, and made +off to find the Lord Provost, powerful friend of hameless dogs. Mr. +Traill hastened down to the Royal Exchange, below St. Giles and on the +northern side of High Street. + +Less than a century old, this municipal building was modern among +ancient rookeries. To High Street it presented a classic front of +four stories, recessed by flanking wings, around three sides of a +quadrangular courtyard. Near the entrance there was a row of barber +shops and coffee-rooms. Any one having business with the city offices +went through a corridor between these places of small trade to the +stairway court behind them. On the floor above, one had to inquire of +some uniformed attendant in which of the oaken, ante-roomed halls the +Burgh court was sitting. And by the time one got there all the pride of +civic history of the ancient royal Burgh, as set forth in portrait and +statue and a museum of antiquities, was apt to take the lime out of +the backbone of a man less courageous than Mr. Traill. What a car of +juggernaut to roll over one, small, masterless terrier! + +But presently the landlord found himself on his feet, and not so ill at +ease. A Scottish court, high or low, civil or criminal, had a flavor all +its own. Law points were threshed over with gusto, but counsel, client, +and witness gained many a point by ready wit, and there was no lack of +dry humor from the bench. About the Burgh court, for all its stately +setting, there was little formality. The magistrate of the day sat +behind a tall desk, with a clerk of record at his elbow, and the officer +gave his testimony briefly: Edinburgh being quite overrun by stray and +unlicensed dogs, orders had recently been given the Burgh police to +report such animals. In Mr. Traill's place he had seen a small terrier +that appeared to be at home there; and, indeed, on the dog's going out, +Mr. Traill had called a servant lassie to fetch a bone, and to open the +door for him. He noticed that the animal wore no collar, and felt it his +duty to report the matter. + +By the time Mr. Traill was called to answer to the charge a number of +curious idlers had gathered on the back benches. He admitted his name +and address, but denied that he either owned or was harboring a dog. +The magistrate fixed a cold eye upon him, and asked if he meant to +contradict the testimony of the officer. + +“Nae, your Honor; and he might have seen the same thing ony week-day of +the past eight and a half years. But the bit terrier is no' my ain +dog.” Suddenly, the memory of the stormy night, the sick old man and the +pathos of his renunciation of the only beating heart in the world that +loved him--“Bobby isna ma ain dog!” swept over the remorseful landlord. +He was filled with a fierce championship of the wee Highlander, whose +loyalty to that dead master had brought him to this strait. + +To the magistrate Mr. Traill's tossed-up head had the effect of +defiance, and brought a sharp rebuke. “Don't split hairs, Mr. Traill. +You are wasting the time of the court. You admit feeding the dog. Who is +his master and where does he sleep?” + +“His master is in his grave in auld Greyfriars kirkyard, and the dog has +aye slept there on the mound.” + +The magistrate leaned over his desk. “Man, no dog could sleep in the +open for one winter in this climate. Are you fond of romancing, Mr. +Traill?” + +“No' so overfond, your Honor. The dog is of the subarctic breed of Skye +terriers, the kind with a thick under-jacket of fleece, and a weather +thatch that turns rain like a crofter's cottage roof.” + +“There should be witnesses to such an extraordinary story. The dog could +not have lived in this strictly guarded churchyard without the +consent of those in authority.” The magistrate was plainly annoyed and +skeptical, and Mr. Traill felt the sting of it. + +“Ay, the caretaker has been his gude friend, but Mr. Brown is ill +of rheumatism, and can no' come out. Nae doubt, if necessary, his +deposeetion could be tak'n. Permission for the bit dog to live in the +kirkyard was given by the meenister of Greyfriars auld kirk, but Doctor +Lee is in failing health and has gone to the south of France. The +tenement children and the Heriot laddies have aye made a pet of Bobby, +but they would no' be competent witnesses.” + +“You should have counsel. There are some legal difficulties here.” + +“I'm no' needing a lawyer. The law in sic a matter can no' be so +complicated, and I have a tongue in my ain head that has aye served +me, your Honor.” The magistrate smiled, and the spectators moved to the +nearer benches to enjoy this racy man. The room began to fill by that +kind of telepathy that causes crowds to gather around the human drama. +One man stood, unnoticed, in the doorway. Mr. Traill went on, quietly: +“If the court permits me to do so, I shall be glad to pay for Bobby's +license, but I'm thinking that carries responsibeelity for the bit dog.” + +“You are quite right, Mr. Traill. You would have to assume +responsibility. Masterless dogs have become a serious nuisance in the +city.” + +“I could no' tak' responsibeelity. The dog is no' with me more than a +couple of hours out of the twenty-four. I understand that most of his +time is spent in the kirkyard, in weel-behaving, usefu' ways, but I +could no' be sure.” + +“But why have you fed him for so many years? Was his master a friend?” + +“Nae, just a customer, your Honor; a simple auld shepherd who ate his +market-day dinner in my place. He aye had the bit dog with him, and +I was the last man to see the auld body before he went awa' to his +meeserable death in a Cowgate wynd. Bobby came to me, near starved, +to be fed, two days after his master's burial. I was tak'n by the wee +Highlander's leal spirit.” + +And that was all the landlord would say. He had no mind to wear his +heart upon his sleeve for this idle crowd to gape at. + +After a moment the magistrate spoke warmly: “It appears, then, that the +payment of the license could not be accepted from you. Your humanity is +commendable, Mr. Traill, but technically you are in fault. The minimum +fine should be imposed and remitted.” + +At this utterly unlooked-for conclusion Mr. Traill seemed to gather +his lean shoulders together for a spring, and his gray eyes narrowed to +blades. + +“With due respect to your Honor, I must tak' an appeal against sic a +deceesion, to the Lord Provost and a' the magistrates, and then to the +Court of Sessions.” + +“You would get scant attention, Mr. Traill. The higher judiciary have +more important business than reviewing dog cases. You would be laughed +out of court.” + +The dry tone stung him to instant retort. “And in gude company I'd +be. Fifty years syne Lord Erskine was laughed down in Parliament for +proposing to give legal protection to dumb animals. But we're getting a +bit more ceevilized.” + +“Tut, tut, Mr. Traill, you are making far too much of a small matter.” + +“It's no' a sma' matter to be entered in the records of the Burgh court +as a petty law-breaker. And if I continued to feed the dog I would be in +contempt of court.” + +The magistrate was beginning to feel badgered. “The fine carries the +interdiction with it, Mr. Traill, if you are asking for information.” + +“It was no' for information, but just to mak' plain my ain line of +conduct. I'm no' intending to abandon the dog. I am commended here for +my humanity, but the bit dog I must let starve for a technicality.” + Instantly, as the magistrate half rose from the bench, the landlord +saw that he had gone too far, and put the court on the defensive. In an +easy, conversational tone, as if unaware of the point he had scored, +he asked if he might address his accuser on a personal matter. “We knew +each other weel as laddies. Davie, when you're in my neeborhood again on +a wet day, come in and dry yoursel' by my fire and tak' another cup o' +kindness for auld lang syne. You'll be all the better man for a lesson +in morals the bit dog can give you: no' to bite the hand that feeds +you.” + +The policeman turned purple. A ripple of merriment ran through the room. +The magistrate put his hand up to his mouth, and the clerk began to drop +pens. Before silence was restored a messenger laddie ran up with a note +for the bench. The magistrate read it with a look of relief, and nodded +to the man who had been listening from the doorway, but who disappeared +at once. + +“The case is ordered continued. The defendant will be given time to +secure witnesses, and notified when to appear. The next case is called.” + +Somewhat dazed by this sudden turn, and annoyed by the delayed +settlement of the affair, Mr. Traill hastened from the court-room. As he +gained the street he was overtaken by the messenger with a second note. +And there was a still more surprising turn that sent the landlord off up +swarming High Street, across the bridge, and on to his snug little place +of business, with the face and the heart of a school-boy. When Bobby, +draggled by three days of wet weather, came in for his dinner, Mr. +Traill scanned him critically and in some perplexity. At the end of +the day's work, as Ailie was dropping her quaint curtsy and giving her +adored employer a shy “gude nicht,” he had a sudden thought that made +him call her back. + +“Did you ever give a bit dog a washing, lassie?” + +“Ye mean Bobby, Maister Traill? Nae, I didna.” Her eyes sparkled. “But +Tammy's hauded 'im for Maister Brown, an' he says it's sonsie to gie the +bonny wee a washin'.” + +“Weel, Mr. Brown is fair ill, and there has been foul weather. Bobby's +getting to look like a poor 'gaen aboot' dog. Have him at the kirkyard +gate at a quarter to eight o'clock the morn looking like a leddy's pet +and I'll dance a Highland fling at your wedding.” + +“Are ye gangin' to tak' Bobby on a picnic, Maister Traill?” + +He answered with a mock solemnity and a twinkle in his eyes that +mystified the little maid. “Nae, lassie; I'm going to tak' him to a +meeting in a braw kirk.” + + + + +IX + +When Ailie wanted to get up unusually early in the morning she made +use of Tammy for an alarm-clock. A crippled laddie who must “mak' +'is leevin' wi' 'is heid” can waste no moment of daylight, and in the +ancient buildings around Greyfriars the maximum of daylight was to be +had only by those able and willing to climb to the gables. Tammy, having +to live on the lowest, darkest floor of all, used the kirkyard for a +study, by special indulgence of the caretaker, whenever the weather +permitted. + +From a window he dropped his books and his crutches over the wall. Then, +by clasping his arms around a broken shaft that blocked the casement, he +swung himself out, and scrambled down into an enclosed vault yard. +There he kept hidden Mistress Jeanie's milking stool for a seat; and a +table-tomb served as well, for the laddie to do his sums upon, as it +had for the tearful signing of the Covenant more than two hundred +years before. Bobby, as host, greeted Tammy with cordial friskings and +waggings, saw him settled to his tasks, and then went briskly about his +own interrupted business of searching out marauders. Many a spring dawn +the quiet little boy and the swift and silent little dog had the shadowy +garden all to themselves, and it was for them the song-thrushes and +skylarks gave their choicest concerts. + +On that mid-April morning, when the rising sun gilded the Castle turrets +and flashed back from the many beautiful windows of Heriot's Hospital, +Tammy bundled his books under the table-tomb of Mistress Jean Grant, +went over to the rear of the Guildhall at the top of the Row, and threw +a handful of gravel up to Ailie's window. Because of a grandmither, +Ailie, too, dwelt on a low level. Her eager little face, lighted by +sleep-dazzled blue eyes, popped out with the surprising suddenness of +the manikins in a Punch-and-Judy show. + +“In juist ane meenit, Tammy,” she whispered, “no' to wauken the +grandmither.” It was in so very short a minute that the lassie climbed +out onto the classic pediment of a tomb and dropped into the kirkyard +that her toilet was uncompleted. Tammy buttoned her washed-out cotton +gown at the back, and she sat on a slab to lace her shoes. If the fun +of giving Bobby his bath was to be enjoyed to the full there must be no +unnecessary delay. This consideration led Tammy to observe: + +“Ye're no' needin' to comb yer hair, Ailie. It leuks bonny eneugh.” + +In truth, Ailie was one of those fortunate lassies whose crinkly, +gold-brown mop really looked best when in some disorder; and of that +advantage the little maid was well aware. + +“I ken a' that, Tammy. I aye gie it a lick or twa wi' a comb the nicht +afore. Ca' the wee doggie.” + +Bobby fully understood that he was wanted for some serious purpose, but +it was a fresh morning of dew and he, apparently, was in the highest of +spirits. So he gave Ailie a chase over the sparkling grass and under the +showery shrubbery. When he dropped at last on Auld Jock's grave +Tammy captured him. The little dog could always be caught there, in a +caressable state of exhaustion or meditation, for, sooner or later, he +returned to the spot from every bit of work or play. No one would have +known it for a place of burial at all. Mr. Brown knew it only by the +rose bush at its head and by Bobby's haunting it, for the mound had +sunk to the general level of the terrace on which it lay, and spreading +crocuses poked their purple and gold noses through the crisp spring +turf. But for the wee, guardian dog the man who lay beneath had long +lost what little identity he had ever possessed. + +Now, as the three lay there, the lassie as flushed and damp as some +water-nymph, Bobby panting and submitting to a petting, Tammy took the +little dog's muzzle between his thin hands, parted the veil, and looked +into the soft brown eyes. + +“Leak, Ailie, Bobby's wantin' somethin', an' is juist haudin' 'imsel'.” + +It was true. For all his gaiety in play and his energy at work Bobby's +eyes had ever a patient, wistful look, not unlike the crippled laddie's. +Ah, who can say that it did not require as much courage and gallant +bravado on the part of that small, bereft creature to enable him to live +at all, as it did for Tammy to face his handicapped life and “no' to +remember 'is bad legs”? + +In the bath on the rear steps of the lodge Bobby swam and splashed, and +scattered foam with his excited tail. He would not stand still to be +groomed, but wriggled and twisted and leaped upon the children, putting +his shaggy wet paws roguishly in their faces. But he stood there at +last, after the jolliest romp, in which the old kirkyard rang with +laughter, and oh! so bonny, in his rippling coat of dark silver. No +sooner was he released than he dashed around the kirk and back again, +bringing his latest bone in his mouth. To his scratching on the stone +sill, for he had been taught not to scratch on the panel, the door +was opened by snod and smiling Mistress Jeanie, who invited these slum +bairns into such a cozy, spotless kitchen as was not possible in the +tenements. Mr. Brown sat by the hearth, bundled in blue and white +blankets of wonderfully blocked country weaving. Bobby put his fore paws +on the caretaker's chair and laid his precious bone in the man's lap. + +“Eh, ye takin' bit rascal; loup!” Bobby jumped to the patted knee, +turned around and around on the soft bed that invited him, licked the +beaming old face to show his sympathy and friendliness, and jumped down +again. Mr. Brown sighed because Bobby steadily but amiably refused to be +anybody's lap-dog. The caretaker turned to the admiring children. + +“Ilka morn he fetches 'is bit bane up, thinkin' it a braw giftie for an +ill man. An' syne he veesits me twa times i' the day, juist bidin' a +wee on the hearthstane, lollin' 'is tongue an' waggin' 'is tail, +cheerfu'-like. Bobby has mair gude sense in 'is heid than mony a man wha +comes ben the hoose, wi' a lang face, to let me ken I'm gangin' to dee. +Gin I keep snug an' canny it wullna gang to the heart. Jeanie, woman, +fetch ma fife, wull ye?” + +Then there were strange doings in the kirkyard lodge. James Brown “wasna +gangin' to dee” before his time came, at any rate. In his youth, as +under-gardener on a Highland estate, he had learned to play the piccolo +flute, and lately he had revived the pastoral art of piping just because +it went so well with Bobby's delighted legs. To the sonsie air of +“Bonnie Dundee” Bobby hopped and stepped and louped, and he turned +about on his hind feet, his shagged fore paws drooped on his breast as +daintily as the hands in the portraits of early Victorian ladies. The +fire burned cheerily in the polished grate, and winked on every shining +thing in the room; primroses bloomed in the diamond-paned casement; the +skylark fluttered up and sang in its cage; the fife whistled as gaily as +a blackbird, and the little dog danced with a comic clumsiness that made +them all double up with laughter. The place was so full of brightness, +and of kind and merry hearts, that there was room for nothing else. Not +one of them dreamed that the shadow of the law was even then over this +useful and lovable little dog's head. + +A glance at the wag-at-the-wa' clock reminded Ailie that Mr. Traill +might be waiting for Bobby. + +Curious about the mystery, the children took the little dog down to the +gate, happily. They were sobered, however, when Mr. Traill appeared, +looking very grand in his Sabbath clothes. He inspected Bobby all over +with anxious scrutiny, and gave each of the bairns a threepenny-bit, +but he had no blithe greeting for them. Much preoccupied, he went off at +once, with the animated little muff of a dog at his heels. In truth, Mr. +Traill was thinking about how he might best plead Bobby's cause with the +Lord Provost. The note that was handed him, on leaving the Burgh court +the day before, had read: + +“Meet me at the Regent's Tomb in St. Giles at eight o'clock in the +morning, and bring the wee Highlander with you.--Glenormiston.” + +On the first reading the landlord's spirits had risen, out of all +proportion to the cause, owing to his previous depression. But, after +all, the appointment had no official character, since the Regent's Tomb +in St. Giles had long been a sort of town pump for the retailing of +gossip and for the transaction of trifling affairs of all sorts. The +fate of this little dog was a small matter, indeed, and so it might be +thought fitting, by the powers that be, that it should be decided at the +Regent's Tomb rather than in the Burgh court. + +To the children, who watched from the kirkyard gate until Mr. Traill and +Bobby were hidden by the buildings on the bridge, it was no' canny. The +busy landlord lived mostly in shirt-sleeves and big white apron, ready +to lend a hand in the rush hours, and he never was known to put on +his black coat and tall hat on a week-day, except to attend a funeral. +However, there was the day's work to be done. Tammy had a lesson +still to get, and returned to the kirkyard, and Ailie ran up to the +dining-rooms. On the step she collided with a red headed, freckle-faced +young man who asked for Mr. Traill. + +“He isna here.” The shy lassie was made almost speechless by +recognizing, in this neat, well-spoken clerk, an old Heriot boy, once as +poor as herself. + +“Do you wark for him, lassie? Weel, do you know how he cam' out in the +Burgh court about the bit dog?” + +There was only one “bit dog” in the world to Ailie. Wild eyed with alarm +at mention of the Burgh court, in connection with that beloved little +pet, she stammered: “It's--it's--no' a coort he gaed to. Maister +Traill's tak'n Bobby awa' to a braw kirk.” + +Sandy nodded his head. “Ay, that would be the police office in St. +Giles. Lassie, tell Mr. Traill I sent the Lord Provost, and if he's +needing a witness to ca' on Sandy McGregor.” + +Ailie stared after him with frightened eyes. Into her mind flashed that +ominous remark of the policeman two days before: “I didna ken ye had a +dog, John?” She overtook Sandy in front of the sheriff's court on the +bridge. + +“What--what hae the police to do wi' bittie dogs?” + +“If a dog has nae master to pay for his license the police can tak' him +up and put him out o' the way.” + +“Hoo muckle siller are they wantin'?” + +“Seven shullings. Gude day, lassie; I'm fair late.” Sandy was not really +alarmed about Bobby since the resourceful Mr. Traill had taken up +his cause, and he had no idea of the panic of grief and fright that +overwhelmed this forlorn child. + +Seven shullings! It was an enormous sum to the tenement bairn, whose +half-blind grandmither knitted and knitted in a dimly lighted room, and +hoarded halfpennies and farthings to save herself from pauper burial. +Seven shullings would pay a month's rent for any one of the crowded +rooms in which a family lived. Ailie herself, an untrained lassie who +scarcely knew the use of a toasting-fork, was overpaid by generous Mr. +Traill at sixpence a day. Seven shullings to permit one little dog to +live! It did not occur to Ailie that this was a sum Mr. Traill could +easily pay. No' onybody at all had seven shullings all at once! But, oh! +everybody had pennies and halfpennies and farthings, and she and Tammy +together had a sixpence. + +Darting back to the gate, to catch the laddie before he could be off to +school, she ran straight into the policeman, who stood with his hand on +the wicket. He eyed her sharply. + +“Eh, lassie, I was gangin' to spier at the lodge, gin there's a bit dog +leevin' i' the kirkyaird.” + +“I--I--dinna ken.” Her voice was unmanageable. She had left to her only +the tenement-bred instinct of concealment of any and all facts from an +officer of the law. + +“Ye dinna ken! Maister Traill said i' the coort a' the bairns aboot +kenned the dog. Was he leein'?” + +The question stung her into angry admission. “He wadna be leein'. +But--but--the bittie--dog--isna here noo.” + +“Syne, whaur is he? Oot wi' it!” + +“I--dinna--ken!” She cowered in abject fear against the wall. She could +not know that this officer was suffering a bad attack of shame for his +shabby part in the affair. Satisfied that the little dog really did +live in the kirkyard, he turned back to the bridge. When Tammy came +out presently he found Ailie crumpled up in a limp little heap in the +gateway alcove. In a moment the tale of Bobby's peril was told. The +laddie dropped his books and his crutches on the pavement, and his head +in his helpless arms, and cried. He had small faith in Ailie's suddenly +conceived plan to collect the seven shullings among the dwellers in the +tenements. + +“Do ye ken hoo muckle siller seven shullin's wad be? It's auchty-fower +pennies, a hundred an' saxty-aucht ha'pennies an'--an'--I canna think +hoo mony farthings.” + +“I dinna care a bittie bit. There's mair folk aroond the kirkyaird than +there's farthings i' twa, three times seven shullin's. An' maist ilka +body kens Bobby. An' we hae a saxpence atween us noo.” + +“Maister Brown wad gie us anither saxpence gin he had ane,” Tammy +suggested, wistfully. + +“Nae, he's fair ill. Gin he doesna keep canny it wull gang to 'is heart. +He'd be aff 'is heid, aboot Bobby. Oh, Tammy, Maister Traill gaed to +gie 'im up! He was wearin' a' 'is gude claes an' a lang face, to gang to +Bobby's buryin'.” + +This dreadful thought spurred them to instant action. By way of mutual +encouragement they went together through the sculptured doorway, that +bore the arms of the ancient guild of the candlemakers on the lintel, +and into the carting office on the front. + +“Do ye ken Greyfriars Bobby?” Tammy asked, timidly, of the man in +charge. + +He glowered at the laddie and shook his head. “Havers, mannie; there's +no' onybody named for an auld buryin' groond.” + +The children fled. There was no use at all in wasting time on folk who +did not know Bobby, for it would take too long to explain him. But, +alas, they soon discovered that “maist ilka body” did not know the +little dog, as they had so confidently supposed. He was sure to be known +only in the rooms at the rear that overlooked the kirkyard, and, as one +went upward, his identity became less and less distinct. He was such +a wee, wee, canny terrier, and so many of the windows had their views +constantly shut out by washings. Around the inner courts, where unkempt +women brought every sort of work out to the light on the galleries and +mended worthless rags, gossiped, and nursed their babies on the stairs, +Bobby had sometimes been heard of, but almost never seen. Children often +knew him where their elders did not. By the time Ailie and Tammy had +worked swiftly down to the bottom of the Row other children began to +follow them, moved by the peril of the little dog to sympathy and eager +sacrifice. + +“Bide a wee, Ailie!” cried one, running to overtake the lassie. “Here's +a penny. I was gangin' for milk for the porridge. We can do wi'oot the +day.” + +And there was the money for the broth bone, and the farthing that +would have filled the gude-man's evening pipe, and the ha'penny for the +grandmither's tea. It was the world-over story of the poor helping the +poor. The progress of Ailie and Tammy through the tenements was like +that of the piper through Hamelin. The children gathered and gathered, +and followed at their heels, until a curiously quiet mob of threescore +or more crouched in the court of the old hall of the Knights of St. +John, in the Grassmarket, to count the many copper coins in Tammy's +woolen bonnet. + +“Five shullin's, ninepence, an' a ha'penny,” Tammy announced. And then, +after calculation on his fingers, “It'll tak' a shullin' an' twapenny +ha'penny mair.” + +There was a gasping breath of bitter disappointment, and one wee laddie +wailed for lost Bobby. At that Ailie dashed the tears from her own eyes +and sprang up, spurred to desperate effort. She would storm the all but +hopeless attic chambers. Up the twisting turnpike stairs on the outer +wall she ran, to where the swallows wheeled about the cornices, and she +could hear the iron cross of the Knights Templars creak above the gable. +Then, all the way along a dark passage, at one door after another, she +knocked, and cried, + +“Do ye ken Greyfriars Bobby?” + +At some of the doors there was no answer. At others students stared out +at the bairn, not in the least comprehending this wild crying. Tears of +anger and despair flooded the little maid's blue eyes when she beat on +the last door of the row with her doubled fist. + +“Do ye ken Greyfriars Bobby? The police are gangin' to mak' 'im be +deid--” As the door was flung open she broke into stormy weeping. + +“Hey, lassie. I know the dog. What fashes you?” + +There stood a tall student, a wet towel about his head, and, behind +him, the rafters of the dormer-lighted closet were as thickly hung +with bunches of dried herbs from the Botanical Garden as any auld witch +wife's kitchen. + +“Oh, are ye kennin' 'im? Isna he bonny an' sonsie? Gie me the shullin' +an' twapenny ha' penny we're needin', so the police wullna put 'im +awa'.” + +“Losh! It's a license you're wanting? I wish I had as many shullings +as I've had gude times with Bobby, and naething to pay for his braw +company.” + +For this was Geordie Ross, going through the Medical College with the +help of Heriot's fund that, large as it was, was never quite enough +for all the poor and ambitious youths of Edinburgh. And so, although +provided for in all necessary ways, his pockets were nearly as empty as +of old. He could spare a sixpence if he made his dinner on a potato and +a smoked herring. That he was very willing to do, once he had heard +the tale, and he went with Ailie to the lodgings of other students, and +demanded their siller with no explanation at all. + +“Give the lassie what you can spare, man, or I'll have to give you a +licking,” was his gay and convincing argument, from door to door, until +the needed amount was made up. Ailie fled recklessly down the stairs, +and cried triumphantly to the upward-looking, silent crowd that had +grown and grown around Tammy, like some host of children crusaders. + +While Ailie and Tammy were collecting the price of his ransom Bobby was +exploring the intricately cut-up interior of old St. Giles, sniffing at +the rifts in flimsily plastered partitions that the Lord Provost pointed +out to Mr. Traill. Rats were in those crumbling walls. If there had been +a hole big enough to admit him, the plucky little dog would have gone +in after them. Forbidden to enlarge one, Bobby could only poke his +indignant muzzle into apertures, and brace himself as for a fray. And, +at the very smell of him, there were such squeakings and scamperings in +hidden runways as to be almost beyond a terrier's endurance. The Lord +Provost watched him with an approving eye. + +“When these partitions are tak'n down Bobby would be vera useful in +ridding our noble old cathedral of vermin. But that will not be in this +wee Highlander's day nor, I fear, in mine.” About the speech of this +Peebles man, who had risen from poverty to distinction, learning, +wealth, and many varieties of usefulness, there was still an engaging +burr. And his manner was so simple that he put the humblest at his ease. + +There had been no formality about the meeting at all. Glenormiston was +standing in a rear doorway of the cathedral near the Regent's Tomb, +looking out into the sunny square of Parliament Close, when Mr. Traill +and Bobby appeared. Near seventy, at that time, a backward sweep of +white hair and a downward flow of square-cut, white beard framed a +boldly featured face and left a generous mouth uncovered. + +“Gude morning, Mr. Traill. So that is the famous dog that has stood +sentinel for more than eight years. He should be tak'n up to the Castle +and shown to young soldiers who grumble at twenty-four hours' guard +duty. How do you do, sir!” The great man, whom the Queen knighted later, +and whom the University he was too poor to attend as a lad honored with +a degree, stooped from the Regent's Tomb and shook Bobby's lifted paw +with grave courtesy. Then, leaving the little dog to entertain himself, +he turned easily to his own most absorbing interest of the moment. + +“Do you happen to care for Edinburgh antiquities, Mr. Traill? +Reformation piety made sad havoc of art everywhere. Man, come here!” + +Down into the lime dust the Lord Provost and the landlord went, in their +good black clothes, for a glimpse of a bit of sculpturing on a tomb that +had been walled in to make a passage. A loose brick removed, behind and +above it, the sun flashed through fragments of emerald and ruby glass +of a saint's robe, in a bricked up window. Such buried and forgotten +treasure, Glenormiston explained, filled the entire south transept. In +the High Kirk, that then filled the eastern end of the cathedral, they +went up a cheap wooden stairway, to the pew-filled gallery that was +built into the old choir, and sat down. Mr. Traill's eyes sparkled. +Glenormiston was a man after his own heart, and they were getting along +famously; but, oh! it began to seem more and more unlikely that a Lord +Provost, who was concerned about such braw things as the restoration of +the old cathedral and letting the sun into the ancient tenements, should +be much interested in a small, masterless dog. + +“Man, auld John Knox will turn over in his bit grave in Parliament Close +if you put a 'kist o' whustles' in St. Giles.” Mr. Traill laughed. + +“I admit I might have stopped short of the organ but for the courageous +example of Doctor Lee in Greyfriars. It was from him that I had a quite +extravagant account of this wee, leal Highlander a few years ago. I have +aye meant to go to see him; but I'm a busy man and the matter passed out +of mind. Mr. Traill, I'm your sadly needed witness: I heard you from the +doorway of the court-room, and I sent up a note confirming your story +and asking, as a courtesy, that the case be turned over to me for some +exceptional disposal. Would you mind telling another man the tale that +so moved Doctor Lee? I've aye had a fondness for the human document.” + +So there, above the pulpit of the High Kirk of St. Giles, the tale was +told again, so strangely did this little dog's life come to be linked +with the highest and lowest, the proudest and humblest in the Scottish +capital. Now, at mention of Auld Jock, Bobby put his shagged paws up +inquiringly on the edge of the pew, so that Mr. Traill lifted him. He +lay down flat between the two men, with his nose on his paws, and his +little tousled head under the Lord Provost's hand. + +Auld Jock lived again in that recital. Glenormiston, coming from the +country of the Ettrick shepherd, knew such lonely figures, and the +pathos of old age and waning powers that drove them in to the poor +quarters of towns. There was pictured the stormy night and the simple +old man who sought food and shelter, with the devoted little dog that +“wasna 'is ain.” Sick unto death he was, and full of ignorant prejudices +and fears that needed wise handling. And there was the well-meaning +landlord's blunder, humbly confessed, and the obscure and tragic result +of it, in a foul and swarming rookery “juist aff the Coogate.” + +“Man, it was Bobby that told me of his master's condition. He begged me +to help Auld Jock, and what did I do but let my fule tongue wag about +doctors. I nae more than turned my back than the auld body was awa' to +his meeserable death. It has aye eased my conscience a bit to feed the +dog.” + +“That's not the only reason why you have fed him.” There was a twinkle +in the Lord Provost's eye, and Mr. Traill blushed. + +“Weel, I'll admit to you that I'm fair fulish about Bobby. Man, I've +courted that sma' terrier for eight and a half years. He's as polite +and friendly as the deil, but he'll have naething to do with me or with +onybody. I wonder the intelligent bit doesn't bite me for the ill turn I +did his master.” + +Then there was the story of Bobby's devotion to Auld Jock's memory to be +told--the days when he faced starvation rather than desert that grave, +the days when he lay cramped under the fallen table-tomb, and his +repeated, dramatic escapes from the Pentland farm. His never broken +silence in the kirkyard was only to be explained by the unforgotten +orders of his dead master. His intelligent effort to make himself useful +to the caretaker had won indulgence. His ready obedience, good temper, +high spirits and friendliness had made him the special pet of the +tenement children and the Heriot laddies. At the very last Mr. Traill +repeated the talk he had had with the non-commissioned officer from the +Castle, and confessed his own fear of some forlorn end for Bobby. It was +true he was nobody's dog; and he was fascinated by soldiers and military +music, and so, perhaps-- + +“I'll no' be reconciled to parting--Eh, man, that's what Auld Jock +himsel' said when he was telling me that the bit dog must be returned to +the sheep-farm: 'It wull be sair partin'.'” Tears stood in the unashamed +landlord's eyes. + +Glenormiston was pulling Bobby's silkily fringed ears thoughtfully. +Through all this talk about his dead master the little dog had not +stirred. For the second time that day Bobby's veil was pushed back, +first by the most unfortunate laddie in the decaying tenements about +Greyfriars, and now by the Lord Provost of the ancient royal burgh and +capital of Scotland. And both made the same discovery. Deep-brown pools +of love, young Bobby's eyes had dwelt upon Auld Jock. Pools of sad +memories they were now, looking out wistfully and patiently upon a +masterless world. + +“Are you thinking he would be reconciled to be anywhere away from that +grave? Look, man!” + +“Lord forgive me! I aye thought the wee doggie happy enough.” + +After a moment the two men went down the gallery stairs in silence. +Bobby dropped from the bench and fell into a subdued trot at their +heels. As they left the cathedral by the door that led into High Street +Glenormiston remarked, with a mysterious smile: + +“I'm thinking Edinburgh can do better by wee Bobby than to banish him to +the Castle. But wait a bit, man. A kirk is not the place for settling a +small dog's affairs.” + +The Lord Provost led the way westward along the cathedral's front. On +High Street, St. Giles had three doorways. The middle door then gave +admittance to the police office; the western opened into the Little +Kirk, popularly known as Haddo's Hole. It was into this bare, +whitewashed chapel that Glenormiston turned to get some restoration +drawings he had left on the pulpit. He was explaining them to Mr. Traill +when he was interrupted by a murmur and a shuffle, as of many voices and +feet, and an odd tap-tap-tapping in the vestibule. + +Of all the doorways on the north and south fronts of St. Giles the one +to the Little Kirk was nearest the end of George IV Bridge. Confused by +the vast size and imposing architecture of the old cathedral, these slum +children, in search of the police office, went no farther, but ventured +timidly into the open vestibule of Haddo's Hole. Any doubts they might +have had about this being the right place were soon dispelled. Bobby +heard them and darted out to investigate. And suddenly they were all +inside, overwrought Ailie on the floor, clasping the little dog and +crying hysterically. + +“Bobby's no' deid! Bobby's no' deid! Oh, Maister Traill, ye wullna hae +to gie 'im up to the police! Tammy's got the seven shullin's in 'is +bonnet!” + +And there was small Tammy, crutches dropped and pouring that offering +of love and mercy out at the foot of an altar in old St. Giles. Such an +astonishing pile of copper coins it was, that it looked to the landlord +like the loot of some shopkeeper's change drawer. + +“Eh, puir laddie, whaur did ye get it a' noo?” he asked, gravely. + +Tammy was very self-possessed and proud. “The bairnies aroond the +kirkyaird gie'd it to pay the police no' to mak' Bobby be deid.” + +Mr. Traill flashed a glance at Glenormiston. It was a look at once of +triumph and of humility over the Herculean deed of these disinherited +children. But the Lord Provost was gazing at that crowd of pale bairns, +products of the Old Town's ancient slums, and feeling, in his own +person, the civic shame of it. And he was thinking, thinking, that he +must hasten that other project nearest his heart, of knocking holes in +solid rows of foul cliffs, in the Cowgate, on High Street, and around +Greyfriars. It was an incredible thing that such a flower of affection +should have bloomed so sweetly in such sunless cells. And it was a new +gospel, at that time, that a dog or a horse or a bird might have its +mission in this world of making people kinder and happier. + +They were all down on the floor, in the space before the altar, +unwashed, uncombed, unconscious of the dirty rags that scarce covered +them; quite happy and self-forgetful in the charming friskings and +friendly lollings of the well-fed, carefully groomed, beautiful little +dog. Ailie, still so excited that she forgot to be shy, put Bobby +through his pretty tricks. He rolled over and over, he jumped, he danced +to Tammy's whistling of “Bonnie Dundee,” he walked on his hind legs and +louped at a bonnet, he begged, he lifted his short shagged paw and shook +hands. Then he sniffed at the heap of coins, looked up inquiringly at +Mr. Traill, and, concluding that here was some property to be guarded, +stood by the “siller” as stanchly as a soldier. It was just pure +pleasure to watch him. + +Very suddenly the Lord Provost changed his mind. A sacred kirk was the +very best place of all to settle this little dog's affairs. The offering +of these children could not be refused. It should lie there, below the +altar, and be consecrated to some other blessed work; and he would do +now and here what he had meant to do elsewhere and in a quite different +way. He lifted Bobby to the pulpit so that all might see him, and he +spoke so that all might understand. + +“Are ye kennin' what it is to gie the freedom o' the toon to grand +folk?” + +“It's--it's when the bonny Queen comes an' ye gie her the keys to the +burgh gates that are no' here ony mair.” Tammy, being in Heriot's, was a +laddie of learning. + +“Weel done, laddie. Lang syne there was a wa' aroond Edinburgh wi' gates +in it.” Oh yes, all these bairnies knew that, and the fragment of it +that was still to be seen outside and above the Grassmarket, with +its sentry tower by the old west port. “Gin a fey king or ither grand +veesitor cam', the Laird Provost an' the maigestrates gied 'im the keys +so he could gang in an' oot at 'is pleesure. The wa's are a' doon noo, +an' the gates no' here ony mair, but we hae the keys, an' we mak' a show +o' gien' 'em to veesitors wha are vera grand or wise or gude, or juist +usefu' by the ordinar'.” + +“Maister Gladstane,” said Tammy. + +“Ay, we honor the Queen's meenisters; an' Miss Nightingale, wha nursed +the soldiers i' the war; an' Leddy Burdett-Coutts, wha gies a' her +siller an' a' her heart to puir folk an' is aye kind to horses and dogs +an' singin' birdies; an' we gie the keys to heroes o' the war wha +are brave an' faithfu'. An' noo, there's a wee bit beastie. He's +weel-behavin', an' isna makin' a blatterin' i' an auld kirkyaird. He +aye minds what he's bidden to do. He's cheerfu' an' busy, keepin' the +proolin' pussies an' vermin frae the sma' birdies i' the nests. He mak's +friends o' ilka body, an' he's faithfu'. For a deid man he lo'ed he's +gaun hungry; an' he hasna forgotten 'im or left 'im by 'is lane at +nicht for mair years than some o' ye are auld. An' gin ye find 'im lyin' +canny, an' ye tak' a keek into 'is bonny brown een, ye can see he's aye +greetin'. An' so, ye didna ken why, but ye a' lo'ed the lanely wee--” + +“Bobby!” It was an excited breath of a word from the wide-eyed bairns. + +“Bobby! Havers! A bittie dog wadna ken what to do wi' keys.” + +But Glenormiston was smiling, and these sharp witted slum bairns +exchanged knowing glances. “Whaur's that sma'--?” He dived into this +pocket and that, making a great pretense of searching, until he found a +narrow band of new leather, with holes in one end and a stout buckle +on the other, and riveted fast in the middle of it was a shining brass +plate. Tammy read the inscription aloud: + + GREYFRIARS BOBBY + + FROM THE LORD PROVOST + + 1867 Licensed + +The wonderful collar was passed from hand to hand in awed silence. The +children stared and stared at this white-haired and bearded man, who +“wasna grand ava,” but who talked to them as simply and kindly as a +grandfaither. He went right on talking to them in his homely way to put +them at their ease, telling them that nobody at all, not even the bonny +Queen, could be more than kind and well-behaving and faithful to duty. +Wee Bobby was all that, and so “Gin dizzens an' dizzens o' bairns war +kennin' 'im, an' wad fetch seven shullin's i' their ha'pennies to a +kirk, they could buy the richt for the braw doggie to be leevin', the +care o' them a', i' the auld kirkyaird o' Greyfriars. An' he maun hae +the collar so the police wull ken 'im an' no' ever tak' 'im up for a +puir, gaen-aboot dog.” + +The children quite understood the responsibility they assumed, and their +eyes shone with pride at the feeling that, if more fortunate friends +failed, this little creature must never be allowed to go hungry. And +when he came to die--oh, in a very, very few years, for they must +remember that “a doggie isna as lang-leevin' as folk”--they must not +forget that Bobby would not be permitted to be buried in the kirkyard. + +“We'll gie 'im a grand buryin',” said Tammy. “We'll find a green brae +by a babblin' burn aneath a snawy hawthorn, whaur the throstle sings an' +the blackbird whustles.” For the crippled laddie had never forgotten Mr. +Traill's description of a proper picnic, and that must, indeed, be a wee +dog's heaven. + +“Ay, that wull do fair weel.” The collar had come back to him by this +time, and the Lord Provost buckled it securely about Bobby's neck. + + + + +X. + +The music of bagpipe, fife and drum brought them all out of Haddo's Hole +into High Street. It was the hour of the morning drill, and the soldiers +were marching out of the Castle. From the front of St. Giles, that +jutted into the steep thoroughfare, they could look up to where the +street widened to the esplanade on Castle Hill. Rank after rank of +scarlet coats, swinging kilts and sporrans, and plumed bonnets appeared. +The sun flashed back from rifle barrels and bayonets and from countless +bright buttons. + +A number of the older laddies ran up the climbing street. Mr. Traill +called Bobby back and, with a last grip of Glenormiston's hand, set off +across the bridge. To the landlord the world seemed a brave place to be +living in, the fabric of earth and sky and human society to be woven of +kindness. Having urgent business of buying supplies in the markets at +Broughton and Lauriston, Mr. Traill put Bobby inside the kirkyard gate +and hurried away to get into his everyday clothing. After dinner, or +tea, he promised himself the pleasure of an hour at the lodge, to tell +Mr. Brown the wonderful news, and to show him Bobby's braw collar. + +When, finally, he was left alone, Bobby trotted around the kirk, to +assure himself that Auld Jock's grave was unmolested. There he turned +on his back, squirmed and rocked on the crocuses, and tugged at the +unaccustomed collar. His inverted struggles, low growlings and furry +contortions set the wrens to scolding and the redbreasts to making +nervous inquiries. Much nestbuilding, tuneful courtship, and masculine +blustering was going on, and there was little police duty for Bobby. +After a time he sat up on the table-tomb, pensively. With Mr. Brown +confined, to the lodge, and Mistress Jeanie in close attendance upon him +there, the kirkyard was a lonely place for a sociable little dog; and +a soft, spring day given over to brooding beside a beloved grave, was +quite too heart-breaking a thing to contemplate. Just for cheerful +occupation Bobby had another tussle with the collar. He pulled it so far +under his thatch that no one could have guessed that he had a collar on +at all, when he suddenly righted himself and scampered away to the gate. + +The music grew louder and came nearer. The first of the route-marching +that the Castle garrison practiced on occasional, bright spring +mornings was always a delightful surprise to the small boys and dogs +of Edinburgh. Usually the soldiers went down High Street and out to +Portobello on the sea. But a regiment of tough and wiry Highlanders +often took, by preference, the mounting road to the Pentlands to get a +whiff of heather in their nostrils. + +On they came, band playing, colors flying, feet moving in unison with a +march, across the viaduct bridge into Greyfriars Place. Bobby was up on +the wicket, his small, energetic body quivering with excitement from his +muzzle to his tail. If Mr. Traill had been there he would surely have +caught the infection, thrown care to this sweet April breeze for +once, and taken the wee terrier for a run on the Pentland braes. The +temptation was going by when a preoccupied lady, with a sheaf of Easter +lilies on her sable arm, opened the wicket. Her ample Victorian skirts +swept right over the little dog, and when he emerged there was the gate +slightly ajar. Widening the aperture with nose and paws, Bobby was off, +skirmishing at large on the rear and flanks of the troops, down the +Burghmuir. + +It may never have happened, in the years since Auld Jock died and the +farmer of Cauldbrae gave up trying to keep him on the hills, that Bobby, +had gone so far back on this once familiar road; and he may not +have recognized it at first, for the highways around Edinburgh were +everywhere much alike. This one alone began to climb again. Up, up it +toiled, for two weary miles, to the hilltop toll-bar of Fairmilehead, +and there the sounds and smells that made it different from other roads +began. + +Five miles out of the city the halt was called, and the soldiers flung +themselves on the slope. Many experiences of route-marching had taught +Bobby that there was an interval of rest before the return, so, with +his nose to the ground, he started up the brae on a pilgrimage to old +shrines, just as in his puppyhood days, at Auld Jock's heels, there was +much shouting of men, barking of collies, and bleating of sheep all the +way up. Once he had to leave the road until a driven flock had passed. +Behind the sheep walked an old laborer in hodden-gray, woolen bonnet, +and shepherd's two-fold plaid, with a lamb in the pouch of it. Bobby +trembled at the apparition, sniffed at the hob-nailed boots, and then, +with drooped head and tail, trotted on up the slope. + +Men and dogs were all out on the billowy pastures, and the farm-house +of Cauldbrae lay on the level terrace, seemingly deserted and steeped in +memories. A few moments before, a tall lassie had come out to listen +to the military music. A couple of hundred feet below, the coats of the +soldiers looked to her like poppies scattered on the heather. At the +top of the brae the wind was blowing a cold gale, so the maidie went up +again, and around to a bit of tangled garden on the sheltered side of +the house. The “wee lassie Elsie” was still a bairn in short skirts +and braids, who lavished her soft heart, as yet, on briar bushes and +daisies. + +Bobby made a tour of the sheepfold, the cowyard and byre, and he +lingered behind the byre, where Auld Jock had played with him on Sabbath +afternoons. He inspected the dairy, and the poultry-house where hens +were sitting on their nests. By and by he trotted around the house and +came upon the lassie, busily clearing winter rubbish from her posie bed. +A dog changes very little in appearance, but in eight and a half years a +child grows into a different person altogether. Bobby barked politely to +let this strange lassie know that he was there. In the next instant he +knew her, for she whirled about and, in a kind of glad wonder, cried +out: + +“Oh, Bobby! hae ye come hame? Mither, here's ma ain wee Bobby!” For she +had never given up the hope that this adored little pet would some day +return to her. + +“Havers, lassie, ye're aye seein' Bobby i' ilka Hielan' terrier, an' +there's mony o' them aboot.” + +The gude-wife looked from an attic window in the steep gable, and then +hurried down. “Weel, noo, ye're richt, Elsie. He wad be comin' wi' the +regiment frae the Castle. Bittie doggies an' laddies are fair daft aboot +the soldiers. Ay, he's bonny, an' weel cared for, by the ordinar'. I +wonder gin he's still leevin' i' the grand auld kirkyaird.” + +Wary of her remembered endearments, Bobby kept a safe distance from the +maidie, but he sat up and lolled his tongue, quite willing to pay her a +friendly visit. From that she came to a wrong conclusion: “Sin' he cam' +o' his ain accord he's like to bide.” Her eyes were blue stars. + +“I wadna be coontin' on that, lassie. An' I wadna speck a door on 'im +anither time. Grin he wanted to get oot he'd dig aneath a floor o' +stane. Leuk at that, noo! The bonny wee is greetin' for Auld Jock.” + +It was true, for, on entering the kitchen, Bobby went straight to the +bench in the corner and lay down flat under it. Elsie sat beside him, +just as she had done of old. Her eyes overflowed so in sympathy that the +mother was quite distracted. This would not do at all. + +“Lassie, are ye no' rememberin' Bobby was fair fond o' moor-hens' eggs +fried wi' bits o' cheese? He wullna be gettin' thae things; an' it wad +be maist michty, noo, gin ye couldna win the bittie dog awa' frae the +reekie auld toon. Gang oot wi' 'im an' rin on the brae an' bid 'im find +the nests aneath the whins.” + +In a moment they were out on the heather, and it seemed, indeed, as +if Bobby might be won. He frisked and barked at Elsie's heels, chased +rabbits and flushed the grouse; and when he ran into a peat-darkened +tarp, rimmed with moss, he had such a cold and splashy swim as quite to +give a little dog a distaste for warm, soapy water in a claes tub. He +shook and ran himself dry, and he raced the laughing child until they +both dropped panting on the wind-rippled heath. Then he hunted on the +ground under the gorse for those nests that had a dozen or more eggs in +them. He took just one from each in his mouth, as Auld Jock had taught +him to do. On the kitchen hearth he ate the savory meal with much +satisfaction and polite waggings. But when the bugle sounded from below +to form ranks, he pricked his drop ears and started for the door. + +Before he knew what had happened he was inside the poultry-house. In +another instant he was digging frantically in the soft earth under the +door. When the lassie lay down across the crack he stopped digging, in +consternation. His sense of smell told him what it was that shut out the +strip of light; and a bairn's soft body is not a proper object of attack +for a little dog, no matter how desperate the emergency. There was no +time to be lost, for the drums began to beat the march. Having to get +out very quickly, Bobby did a forbidden thing: swiftly and noisily he +dashed around the dark place, and there arose such wild squawkings and +rushings of wings as to bring the gude-wife out of the house in alarm. + +“Lassie, I canna hae the bittie dog in wi the broodin' chuckies!” + +She flung the door wide. Bobby shot through, and into Elsie's +outstretched arms. She held to him desperately, while he twisted and +struggled and strained away; and presently something shining worked into +view, through the disordered thatch about his neck. The mother had come +to the help of the child, and it was she who read the inscription on the +brazen plate aloud. + +“Preserve us a'! Lassie, he's been tak'n by the Laird Provost an' gien +the name o' the auld kirkyaird. He's an ower grand doggie. Ma puir +bairnie, dinna greet so sair!” For the little girl suddenly released the +wee Highlander and sobbed on her mother's shoulder. + +“He isna ma ain Bobby ony mair!” She “couldna thole” to watch him as he +tumbled down the brae. + +On the outward march, among the many dogs and laddies that had +followed the soldiers, Bobby escaped notice. But most of these had gone +adventuring in Swanston Dell, to return to the city by the gorge of +Leith Water. Now, traveling three miles to the soldiers' one, scampering +in wide circles over the fields, swimming burns, scrambling under +hedges, chasing whaups into piping cries, barking and louping in +pure exuberance of spirits, many eyes looked upon him admiringly, and +discontented mouths turned upward at the corners. It is not the least +of a little dog's missions in life to communicate his own irresponsible +gaiety to men. + +If the return had been over George IV Bridge Bobby would, no doubt, have +dropped behind at Mr. Traill's or at the kirkyard. But on the Burghmuir +the troops swung eastward until they rounded Arthur's Seat and met +the cavalry drilling before the barracks at Piershill. Such pretty +maneuvering of horse and foot took place below Holyrood Palace as quite +to enrapture a terrier. When the infantry marched up the Canongate and +High Street, the mounted men following and the bands playing at full +blast, the ancient thoroughfare was quickly lined with cheering +crowds, and faces looked down from ten tiers of windows on a beautiful +spectacle. Bobby did not know when the bridge-approach was passed; and +then, on Castle Hill, he was in an unknown region. There the street +widened to the great square of the esplanade. The cavalry wheeled and +dashed down High Street, but the infantry marched on and up, over the +sounding drawbridge that spanned a dry moat of the Middle Ages, and +through a deep-arched gateway of masonry. + +The outer gate to the Castle was wider than the opening into many an +Edinburgh wynd; but Bobby stopped, uncertain as to where this narrow +roadway, that curved upward to the right, might lead. It was not a dark +fissure in a cliff of houses, but was bounded on the outer side by a +loopholed wall, and on the inner by a rocky ledge of ascending levels. +Wherever the shelf was of sufficient breadth a battery of cannon was +mounted, and such a flood of light fell from above and flashed +on polished steel and brass as to make the little dog blink in +bewilderment. And he whirled like a rotary sweeper in the dusty road and +yelped when the time-gun, in the half-moon battery at the left of the +gate and behind him, crashed and shook the massive rock. + +He barked and barked, and dashed toward the insulting clamor. The +dauntless little dog and his spirited protest were so out of proportion +to the huge offense that the guard laughed, and other soldiers ran out +of the guard houses that flanked the gate. They would have put the noisy +terrier out at once, but Bobby was off, up the curving roadway into the +Castle. The music had ceased, and the soldiers had disappeared over the +rise. Through other dark arches of masonry he ran. On the crest were +two ways to choose--the roadway on around and past the barracks, and a +flight of steps cut steeply in the living rock of the ledge, and leading +up to the King's Bastion. Bobby took the stairs at a few bounds. + +On the summit there was nothing at all beside a tiny, ancient stone +chapel with a Norman arched and sculptured doorway, and guarding it +an enormous burst cannon. But these ruins were the crown jewels of the +fortifications--their origins lost in legends--and so they were cared +for with peculiar reverence. Sergeant Scott of the Royal Engineers +himself, in fatigue-dress, was down on his knees before St. Margaret's +oratory, pulling from a crevice in the foundations a knot of grass that +was at its insidious work of time and change. As Bobby dashed up to the +citadel, still barking, the man jumped to his feet. Then he slapped his +thigh and laughed. Catching the animated little bundle of protest the +sergeant set him up for inspection on the shattered breeching of Mons +Meg. + +“Losh! The sma' dog cam' by 'is ainsel'! He could no' resist the braw +soldier laddies. 'He's a dog o' discreemination,' eh? Gin he bides a +wee, noo, it wull tak' the conceit oot o' the innkeeper.” He turned to +gather up his tools, for the first dinner bugle was blowing. Bobby knew +by the gun that it was the dinner-hour, but he had been fed at the farm +and was not hungry. He might as well see a bit more of life. He sat +upon the cannon, not in the least impressed by the honor, and lolled his +tongue. + +In Edinburgh Castle there was nothing to alarm a little dog. A dozen +or more large buildings, in three or four groups, and representing +many periods of architecture, lay to the south and west on the lowest +terraces, and about them were generous parked spaces. Into the largest +of the buildings, a long, four-storied barracks, the soldiers had +vanished. And now, at the blowing of a second bugle, half a hundred +orderlies hurried down from a modern cook-house, near the summit, with +cans of soup and meat and potatoes. The sergeant followed one of these +into a room on the front of the barracks. In their serge fatigue-tunics +the sixteen men about the long table looked as different from the gay +soldiers of the march as though so many scarlet and gold and bonneted +butterflies had turned back into sad-colored grubs. + +“Private McLean,” he called to his batman who, for one-and-six a week, +cared for his belongings, “tak' chairge o' the dog, wull ye, an' fetch +'im to the non-com mess when ye come to put ma kit i' gude order.” + +Before he could answer the bombardment of questions about Bobby the door +was opened again. The men dropped their knives and forks and stood at +attention. The officer of the day was making the rounds of the forty +or fifty such rooms in the barracks to inquire of the soldiers if their +dinner was satisfactory. He recognized at once the attractive little +Skye that had taken the eyes of the men on the march, and asked about +him. Sergeant Scott explained that Bobby had no owner. He was living, by +permission, in Greyfriars kirkyard, guarding the grave of a long-dead, +humble master, and was fed by the landlord of the dining-rooms near the +gate. If the little dog took a fancy to garrison life, and the regiment +to him, he thought Mr. Traill, who had the best claim upon him, might +consent to his transfer to the Castle. After orders, at sunset, he would +take Bobby down to the restaurant himself. + +“I wish you good luck, Sergeant.” The officer whistled, and Bobby leaped +upon him and off again, and indulged in many inconsequent friskings. +“Before you take him home fetch him over to the officers' mess at +dinner. It is guest night, and he is sure to interest the gentlemen. A +loyal little creature who has guarded his dead master's grave for more +than eight years deserves to have a toast drunk to him by the officers +of the Queen. But it's an extraordinary story, and it doesn't sound +altogether probable. Jolly little beggar!” He patted Bobby cordially on +the side, and went out. + +The news of his advent and fragments of his story spread so quickly +through the barracks that mess after mess swarmed down from the upper +moors and out into the roadway to see Bobby. Private McLean stood in the +door, smoking a cutty pipe, and grinning with pride in the merry little +ruffian of a terrier, who met the friendly advances of the soldiers more +than half-way. Bobby's guardian would have liked very well to have +sat before the canteen in the sun and gossiped about his small charge. +However, in the sergeant's sleeping-quarters above the mess-room, he had +the little dog all to himself, and Bobby had the liveliest interest +in the boxes and pots, brushes and sponges, and in the processes of +polishing, burnishing, and pipe-claying a soldier's boots and buttons +and belts. As he worked at his valeting, the man kept time with his foot +to rude ballads that he sang in such a hissing Celtic that Bobby +barked, scandalized by a dialect that had been music in the ears of his +ancestors. At that Private McLean danced a Highland fling for him, and +wee Bobby came near bursting with excitement. When the sergeant came up +to make a magnificent toilet for tea and for the evening in town, the +soldier expressed himself with enthusiasm. + +“He iss a deffle of a dog, sir!” + +He was thought to be a “deffle of a dog” in the mess, where the non-com +officers had tea at small writing and card tables. They talked and +laughed very fast and loud, tried Bobby out on all the pretty tricks he +knew, and taught him to speak and to jump for a lump of sugar balanced +on his nose. They did not fondle him, and this rough, masculine style of +pampering and petting was very much to his liking. It was a proud thing, +too, for a little dog, to walk out with the sergeant's shining boots +and twirled walkingstick, and be introduced into one strange place after +another all around the Castle. + +From tea to tattoo was playtime for the garrison. Many smartly dressed +soldiers, with passes earned by good behavior, went out to find +amusement in the city. Visitors, some of them tourists from America, +made the rounds under the guidance of old soldiers. The sergeant +followed such a group of sight-seers through a postern behind the armory +and out onto the cliff. There he lounged under a fir-tree above St. +Margaret's Well and smoked a dandified cigar, while Bobby explored the +promenade and scraped acquaintance with the strangers. + +On the northern and southern sides the Castle wall rose from the very +edge of sheer precipices. Except for loopholes there were no openings. +But on the west there was a grassy terrace without the wall, and below +that the cliff fell away a little less steeply. The declivity was +clothed sparsely with hazel shrubs, thorns, whins and thistles; and now +and then a stunted fir or rowan tree or a group of white-stemmed birks +was stoutly rooted on a shelving ledge. Had any one, the visitors asked, +ever escaped down this wild crag? + +Yes, Queen Margaret's children, the guide answered. Their father dead, +in battle, their saintly mother dead in the sanctuary of her tiny +chapel, the enemy battering at the gate, soldiers had lowered the royal +lady's body in a basket, and got the orphaned children down, in safety +and away, in a fog, over Queen's Ferry to Dunfirmline in the Kingdom +of Fife. It was true that a false step or a slip of the foot would +have dashed them to pieces on the rocks below. A gentleman of the party +scouted the legend. Only a fox or an Alpine chamois could make that +perilous descent. + +With his head cocked alertly, Bobby had stood listening. Hearing this +vague talk of going down, he may have thought these people meant to go, +for he quietly dropped over the edge and went, head over heels, ten feet +down, and landed in a clump of hazel. A lady screamed. Bobby righted +himself and barked cheerful reassurance. The sergeant sprang to his feet +and ordered him to come back. + +Now, the sergeant was pleasant company, to be sure; but he was not a +person who had to be obeyed, so Bobby barked again, wagged his crested +tail, and dropped lower. The people who shuddered on the brink could see +that the little dog was going cautiously enough; and presently he looked +doubtfully over a sheer fall of twenty feet, turned and scrambled back +to the promenade. He was cried and exclaimed over by the hysterical +ladies, and scolded for a bittie fule by the sergeant. To this Bobby +returned ostentatious yawns of boredom and nonchalant lollings, for +it seemed a small matter to be so fashed about. At that a gentleman +remarked, testily, to hide his own agitation, that dogs really had very +little sense. The sergeant ordered Bobby to precede him through the +postern, and the little dog complied amiably. + +All the afternoon bugles had been blowing. For each signal there was a +different note, and at each uniformed men appeared and hurried to new +points. Now, near sunset, there was the fanfare for officers' orders for +the next day. The sergeant put Bobby into Queen Margaret's Chapel, bade +him remain there, and went down to the Palace Yard. The chapel on the +summit was a convenient place for picking the little dog up on his way +to the officers' mess. Then he meant to have his own supper cozily at +Mr. Traill's and to negotiate for Bobby. + +A dozen people would have crowded this ancient oratory, but, small as +it was, it was fitted with a chancel rail and a font for baptizing the +babies born in the Castle. Through the window above the altar, where the +sainted Queen was pictured in stained glass, the sunlight streamed and +laid another jeweled image on the stone floor. Then the colors faded, +until the holy place became an austere cell. The sun had dropped behind +the western Highlands. + +Bobby thought it quite time to go home. By day he often went far +afield, seeking distraction, but at sunset he yearned for the grave in +Greyfriars. The steps up which he had come lay in plain view from the +doorway of the chapel. Bobby dropped down the stairs, and turned into +the main roadway of the Castle. At the first arch that spanned it a +red-coated guard paced on the other side of a closed gate. It would +not be locked until tattoo, at nine thirty, but, without a pass, no one +could go in or out. Bobby sprang on the bars and barked, as much as to +say: “Come awa', man, I hae to get oot.” + +The guard stopped, presented arms to this small, peremptory terrier, +and inquired facetiously if he had a pass. Bobby bristled and yelped +indignantly. The soldier grinned with amusement. Sentinel duty was +lonesome business, and any diversion a relief. In a guardhouse asleep +when Bobby came into the Castle, he had not seen the little dog before +and knew nothing about him. He might be the property of one of the +regiment ladies. Without orders he dared not let Bobby out. A furious +and futile onslaught on the gate he met with a jocose feint of his +bayonet. Tiring of the play, presently, the soldier turned his back and +paced to the end of his beat. + +Bobby stopped barking in sheer astonishment. He gazed after the stiff, +retreating back, in frightened disbelief that he was not to be let out. +He attacked the stone under the barrier, but quickly discovered its +unyielding nature. Then he howled until the sentinel came back, but when +the man went by without looking at him he uttered a whimpering cry and +fled upward. The roadway was dark and the dusk was gathering on the +citadel when Bobby dashed across the summit and down into the brightly +lighted square of the Palace Yard. + +The gas-lamps were being lighted on the bridge, and Mr. Traill was +getting into his streetcoat for his call on Mr. Brown when Tammy put his +head in at the door of the restaurant. The crippled laddie had a warm, +uplifted look, for Love had touched the sordid things of life, and a +miracle had bloomed for the tenement dwellers around Greyfriars. + +“Maister Traill, Mrs. Brown says wull ye please send Bobby hame. Her +gude-mon's frettin' for 'im; an' syne, a' the folk aroond the kirkyaird +hae come to the gate to see the bittie dog's braw collar. They wullna +believe the Laird Provost gied it to 'im for a chairm gin they dinna see +it wi' their gin een.” + +“Why, mannie, Bobby's no' here. He must be in the kirkyard.” + +“Nae, he isna. I ca'ed, an' Ailie keeked in ilka place amang the +stanes.” + +They stared at each other, the landlord serious, the laddie's lip +trembling. Mr. Traill had not returned from his numerous errands about +the city until the middle of the afternoon. He thought, of course, that +Bobby had been in for his dinner, as usual, and had returned to the +kirkyard. It appeared, now, that no one about the diningrooms had seen +the little dog. Everybody had thought that Mr. Traill had taken Bobby +with him. He hurried down to the gate to find Mistress Jeanie at the +wicket, and a crowd of tenement women and children in the alcove and +massed down Candlemakers Row. Alarm spread like a contagion. In eight +years and more Bobby had not been outside the kirkyard gate after the +sunset bugle. Mrs. Brown turned pale. + +“Dinna say the bittie dog's lost, Maister Traill. It wad gang to the +heart o' ma gudemon.” + +“Havers, woman, he's no' lost.” Mr. Traill spoke stoutly enough. “Just +go up to the lodge and tell Mr. Brown I'm--weel, I'll just attend to +that sma' matter my ainsel'.” With that he took a gay face and a set-up +air into the lodge to meet Mr. Brown's glowering eye. + +“Whaur's the dog, man? I've been deaved aboot 'im a' the day, but I +haena seen the sonsie rascal nor the braw collar the Laird Provost gied +'im. An' syne, wi' the folk comin' to spier for 'im an' swarmin' ower +the kirkyaird, ye'd think a warlock was aboot. Bobby isna your dog--” + +“Haud yoursel', man. Bobby's a famous dog, with the freedom of Edinburgh +given to him, and naething will do but Glenormiston must show him to a +company o' grand folk at his bit country place. He's sending in a cart +by a groom, and I'm to tak' Bobby out and fetch him hame after a braw +dinner on gowd plate. The bairns meant weel, but they could no' give +Bobby a washing fit for a veesit with the nobeelity. I had to tak' him +to a barber for a shampoo.” + +Mr. Brown roared with laughter. “Man, ye hae mair fule notions i' yer +heid. Ye'll hae to pay a shullin' or twa to a barber, an' Bobby'll be +sae set up there'll be nae leevin' wi' 'im. Sit ye doon an' tell me +aboot the collar, man.” + +“I can no' stop now to wag my tongue. Here's the gude-wife. I'll just +help her get you awa' to your bed.” + +It was dark when he returned to the gate, and the Castle wore its +luminous crown. The lights from the street lamps flickered on the +up-turned, anxious faces. Some of the children had begun to weep. Women +offered loud suggestions. There were surmises that Bobby had been run +over by a cart in the street, and angry conjectures that he had been +stolen. Then Ailie wailed: + +“Oh, Maister Traill, the bittie dog's deid!” + +“Havers, lassie! I'm ashamed o' ye for a fulish bairn. Bobby's no' deid. +Nae doot he's amang the stanes i' the kirkyaird. He's aye scramblin' +aboot for vermin an' pussies, an' may hae hurt himsel', an' ye a' ken +the bonny wee wadna cry oot i' the kirkyaird. Noo, get to wark, an' +dinna stand there greetin' an' waggin' yer tongues. The mithers an' +bairns maun juist gang hame an' stap their havers, an' licht a' the +candles an' cruisey lamps i' their hames, an' set them i' the windows +aboon the kirkyaird. Greyfriars is murky by the ordinar', an' ye couldna +find a coo there wi'oot the lichts.” + +The crowd suddenly melted away, so eager were they all to have a hand in +helping to find the community pet. Then Mr. Traill turned to the boys. + +“Hoo mony o' ye laddies hae the bull's-eye lanterns?” + +Ah! not many in the old buildings around the kirkyard. These japanned +tin aids to dark adventures on the golf links on autumn nights cost a +sixpence and consumed candles. Geordie Ross and Sandy McGregor, coming +up arm in arm, knew of other students and clerks who still had these +cherished toys of boyhood. With these heroes in the lead a score or more +of laddies swarmed into the kirkyard. + +The tenements were lighted up as they had not been since nobles held +routs and balls there. Enough candles and oil were going up in smoke +to pay for wee Bobby's license all over again, and enough love shone +in pallid little faces that peered into the dusk to light the darkest +corner in the heart of the world. Rays from the bull's-eyes were thrown +into every nook and cranny. Very small laddies insinuated themselves +into the narrowest places. They climbed upon high vaults and let +themselves down in last year's burdocks and tangled vines. It was all +done in silence, only Mr. Traill speaking at all. He went everywhere +with the searchers, and called: + +“Whaur are ye, Bobby? Come awa' oot, laddie!” + +But no gleaming ghost of a tousled dog was conjured by the voice of +affection. The tiniest scratching or lowest moaning could have been +heard, for the warm spring evening was very still, and there were, as +yet, few leaves to rustle. Sleepy birds complained at being disturbed +on their perches, and rodents could be heard scampering along their +runways. The entire kirkyard was explored, then the interior of the +two kirks. Mr. Traill went up to the lodge for the keys, saying, +optimistically, that a sexton might unwittingly have locked Bobby in. +Young men with lanterns went through the courts of the tenements, around +the Grassmarket, and under the arches of the bridge. Laddies dropped +from the wall and hunted over Heriot's Hospital grounds to Lauriston +market. Tammy, poignantly conscious of being of no practical use, sat +on Auld Jock's grave, firm in the conviction that Bobby would return to +that spot his ainsel' And Ailie, being only a maid, whose portion it +was to wait and weep, lay across the window-sill, on the pediment of the +tomb, a limp little figure of woe. + +Mr. Traill's heart was full of misgiving. Nothing but death or stone +walls could keep that little creature from this beloved grave. But, in +thinking of stone walls, he never once thought of the Castle. Away over +to the east, in Broughton market, when the garrison marched away and at +Lauriston when they returned, Mr. Traill did not know that the soldiers +had been out of the city. Busy in the lodge Mistress Jeanie had not seen +them go by the kirkyard, and no one else, except Mr. Brown, knew the +fascination that military uniforms, marching and music had for wee +Bobby. A fog began to drift in from the sea. Suddenly the grass was +sheeted and the tombs blurred. A curtain of gauze seemed to be hung +before the lighted tenements. The Castle head vanished, and the sounds +of the drum and bugle of the tattoo came down muffled, as if through +layers of wool. The lights of the bull's-eyes were ruddy discs that cast +no rays. Then these were smeared out to phosphorescent glows, like the +“spunkies” that everybody in Scotland knew came out to dance in old +kirkyards. + +It was no' canny. In the smother of the fog some of the little boys were +lost, and cried out. Mr. Traill got them up to the gate and sent them +home in bands, under the escort of the students. Mistress Jeanie was out +by the wicket. Mr. Brown was asleep, and she “couldna thole it to +sit there snug.” When a fog-horn moaned from the Firth she broke into +sobbing. Mr. Traill comforted her as best he could by telling her a +dozen plans for the morning. By feeling along the wall he got her to the +lodge, and himself up to his cozy dining-rooms. + +For the first time since Queen Mary the gate of the historic garden of +the Greyfriars was left on the latch. And it was so that a little dog, +coming home in the night might not be shut out. + + + + +XI. + +It was more than two hours after he left Bobby in Queen Margaret's +Chapel that the sergeant turned into the officers' mess-room and tried +to get an orderly to take a message to the captain who had noticed the +little dog in the barracks. He wished to report that Bobby could not be +found, and to be excused to continue the search. + +He had to wait by the door while the toast to her Majesty was proposed +and the band in the screened gallery broke into “God Save the Queen”; +and when the music stopped the bandmaster came in for the usual +compliments. + +The evening was so warm and still, although it was only mid-April, that +a glass-paneled door, opening on the terrace, was set ajar for air. In +the confusion of movement and talk no one noticed a little black mop of +a muzzle that was poked through the aperture. From the outer darkness +Bobby looked in on the score or more of men doubtfully, ready for +instant disappearance on the slightest alarm. Desperate was the +emergency, forlorn the hope that had brought him there. At every turn +his efforts to escape from the Castle had been baffled. He had been +imprisoned by drummer boys and young recruits in the gymnasium, detained +in the hospital, captured in the canteen. + +Bobby went through all his pretty tricks for the lads, and then begged +to be let go. Laughed at, romped with, dragged back, thrown into the +swimming-pool, expected to play and perform for them, he rebelled at +last. He scarred the door with his claws, and he howled so dismally +that, hearing an orderly corporal coming, they turned him out in a rough +haste that terrified him. In the old Banqueting Hall on the Palace +Yard, that was used as a hospital and dispensary, he went through that +travesty of joy again, in hope of the reward. + +Sharply rebuked and put out of the hospital, at last, because of his +destructive clawing and mournful howling, Bobby dashed across the +Palace Yard and into a crowd of good-humored soldiers who lounged in the +canteen. Rising on his hind legs to beg for attention and indulgence, he +was taken unaware from behind by an admiring soldier who wanted to romp +with him. Quite desperate by that time, he snapped at the hand of his +captor and sprang away into the first dark opening. Frightened by +the man's cry of pain, and by the calls and scuffling search for him +without, he slunk to the farthest corner of a dungeon of the Middle +Ages, under the Royal Lodging. + +When the hunt for him ceased, Bobby slipped out of hiding and made his +way around the sickle-shaped ledge of rock, and under the guns of the +half-moon battery, to the outer gate. Only a cat, a fox, or a low, +weasel-like dog could have done it. There were many details that would +have enabled the observant little creature to recognize this barrier as +the place where he had come in. Certainly he attacked it with fury, and +on the guards he lavished every art of appeal that he possessed. But +there he was bantered, and a feint was made of shutting him up in the +guard-house as a disorderly person. With a heart-broken cry he escaped +his tormentors, and made his way back, under the guns, to the citadel. + +His confidence in the good intentions of men shaken, Bobby took to +furtive ways. Avoiding lighted buildings and voices, he sped from shadow +to shadow and explored the walls of solid masonry. Again and again he +returned to the postern behind the armory, but the small back gate that +gave to the cliff was not opened. Once he scrambled up to a loophole in +the fortifications and looked abroad at the scattered lights of the city +set in the void of night. But there, indeed, his stout heart failed him. + +It was not long before Bobby discovered that he was being pursued. A +number of soldiers and drummer boys were out hunting for him, contritely +enough, when the situation was explained by the angry sergeant. Wherever +he went voices and footsteps followed. Had the sergeant gone alone and +called in familiar speech, “Come awa' oot, Bobby!” he would probably +have run to the man. But there were so many calls--in English, in +Celtic, and in various dialects of the Lowlands--that the little dog +dared not trust them. From place to place he was driven by fear, and +when the calling stopped and the footsteps no longer followed, he lay +for a time where he could watch the postern. A moment after he gave up +the vigil there the little back gate was opened. + +Desperation led him to take another chance with men. Slipping into the +shadow of the old Governor's House, the headquarters of commissioned +officers, on the terrace above the barracks, he lay near the open door +to the mess-room, listening and watching. + +The pretty ceremony of toasting the bandmaster brought all the company +about the table again, and the polite pause in the conversation, on his +exit, gave an opportunity for the captain to speak of Bobby before the +sergeant could get his message delivered. + +“Gentlemen, your indulgence for a moment, to drink another toast to +a little dog that is said to have slept on his master's grave in +Greyfriars churchyard for more than eight years. Sergeant Scott, of the +Royal Engineers, vouches for the story and will present the hero.” + +The sergeant came forward then with the word that Bobby could not be +found. He was somewhere in the Castle, and had made persistent and +frantic efforts to get out. Prevented at every turn, and forcibly held +in various places by well-meaning but blundering soldiers, he had been +frightened into hiding. + +Bobby heard every word, and he must have understood that he himself was +under discussion. Alternately hopeful and apprehensive, he scanned +each face in the room that came within range of his vision, until one +arrested and drew him. Such faces, full of understanding, love and +compassion for dumb animals, are to be found among men, women and +children, in any company and in every corner of the world. Now, with +the dog's instinct for the dog-lover, Bobby made his way about the room +unnoticed, and set his short, shagged paws up on this man's knee. + +“Bless my soul, gentlemen, here's the little dog now, and a beautiful +specimen of the drop-eared Skye he is. Why didn't you say that the +'bittie' dog was of the Highland breed, Sergeant? You may well believe +any extravagant tale you may hear of the fidelity and affection of the +Skye terrier.” + +And with that wee Bobby was set upon the polished table, his own silver +image glimmering among the reflections of candles and old plate. He +kept close under the hand of his protector, but waiting for the moment +favorable to his appeal. The company crowded around with eager interest, +while the man of expert knowledge and love of dogs talked about Bobby. + +“You see he's a well-knit little rascal, long and low, hardy and strong. +His ancestors were bred for bolting foxes and wildcats among the rocky +headlands of the subarctic islands. The intelligence, courage and +devotion of dogs of this breed can scarcely be overstated. There is some +far away crossing here that gives this one a greater beauty and grace +and more engaging manners, making him a 'sport' among rough farm +dogs--but look at the length and strength of the muzzle. He's as +determined as the deil. You would have to break his neck before you +could break his purpose. For love of his master he would starve, or he +would leap to his death without an instant's hesitation.” + +All this time the man had been stroking Bobby's head and neck. Now, +feeling the collar under the thatch, he slipped it out and brought the +brass plate up to the light. + +“Propose your toast to Greyfriars Bobby, Captain. His story is vouched +for by no less a person than the Lord Provost. The 'bittie' dog seems to +have won a sort of canine Victoria Cross.” + +The toast was drunk standing, and, a cheer given. The company pressed +close to examine the collar and to shake Bobby's lifted paw. Then, +thinking the moment had come, Bobby rose in the begging attitude, +prostrated himself before them, and uttered a pleading cry. His new +friend assured him that he would be taken home. + +“Bide a wee, Bobby. Before he goes I want you all to see his beautiful +eyes. In most breeds of dogs with the veil you will find the hairs of +the face discolored by tears, but the Skye terrier's are not, and +his eyes are living jewels, as sunny a brown as cairngorms in pebble +brooches, but soft and deep and with an almost human intelligence.” + +For the third time that day Bobby's veil was pushed back. One shocked +look by this lover of dogs, and it was dropped. “Get him back to that +grave, man, or he's like to die. His eyes are just two cairngorms of +grief.” + +In the hush that fell upon the company the senior officer spoke sharply: +“Take him down at once, Sergeant. The whole affair is most unfortunate, +and you will please tender my apologies at the churchyard and the +restaurant, as well as your own, and I will see the Lord Provost.” + +The military salute was given to Bobby when he leaped from the table at +the sergeant's call: “Come awa', Bobby. I'll tak' ye to Auld Jock i' the +kirkyaird noo.” + +He stepped out onto the lawn to wait for his pass. Bobby stood at his +feet, quivering with impatience to be off, but trusting in the man's +given word. The upper air was clear, and the sky studded with stars. +Twenty minutes before the May Light, that guided the ships into the +Firth, could be seen far out on the edge of the ocean, and in every +direction the lamps of the city seemed to fall away in a shower of +sparks, as from a burst meteor. But now, while the stars above were as +numerous and as brilliant as before, the lights below had vanished. As +the sergeant looked, the highest ones expired in the rising fog. The +Island Rock appeared to be sinking in a waveless sea of milk. + +A startled exclamation from the sergeant brought other men out on the +terrace to see it. The senior officer withheld the pass in his hand, and +scouted the idea of the sergeant's going down into the city. As the drum +began to beat the tattoo and the bugle to rise on a crescendo of lovely +notes, soldiers swarmed toward the barracks. Those who had been out in +the town came running up the roadway into the Castle, talking loudly of +adventures they had had in the fog. The sergeant looked down at anxious +Bobby, who stood agitated and straining as at a leash, and said that he +preferred to go. + +“Impossible! A foolish risk, Sergeant, that I am unwilling you should +take. Edinburgh is too full of pitfalls for a man to be going about on +such a night. Our guests will sleep in the Castle, and it will be safer +for the little dog to remain until morning.” + +Bobby did not quite understand this good English, but the excited talk +and the delay made him uneasy. He whimpered piteously. He lay across +the sergeant's feet, and through his boots the man could feel the little +creature's heart beat. Then he rose and uttered his pleading cry. The +sergeant stooped and patted the shaggy head consolingly, and tried to +explain matters. + +“Be a gude doggie noo. Dinna fash yersel' aboot what canna be helped. I +canna tak' ye to the kirkyaird the nicht.” + +“I'll take charge of Bobby, Sergeant.” The dog-loving guest ran out +hastily, but, with a wild cry of reproach and despair, Bobby was gone. + +The group of soldiers who had been out on the cliff were standing in the +postern a moment to look down at the opaque flood that was rising around +the rock. They felt some flying thing sweep over their feet and caught a +silvery flash of it across the promenade. The sergeant cried to them to +stop the dog, and he and the guest were out in time to see Bobby go over +the precipice. + +For a time the little dog lay in a clump of hazel above the fog, between +two terrors. He could see the men and the lights moving along the top +of the cliff, and he could hear the calls. Some one caught a glimpse of +him, and the sergeant lay down on the edge of the precipice and talked +to him, saying every kind and foolish thing he could think of to +persuade Bobby to come back. Then a drummer boy was tied to a rope and +let down to the ledge to fetch him up. But at that, without any sound at +all, Bobby dropped out of sight. + +Through the smother came the loud moaning of fog-horns in the Firth. +Although nothing could be seen, and sounds were muffled as if the ears +of the world were stuffed with wool, odors were held captive and mingled +in confusion. There was nothing to guide a little dog's nose, everything +to make him distrust his most reliable sense. The smell of every plant +on the crag was there; the odors of leather, of paint, of wood, of iron, +from the crafts shops at the base. Smoke from chimneys in the valley was +mixed with the strong scent of horses, hay and grain from the street of +King's Stables. There was the smell of furry rodents, of nesting birds, +of gushing springs, of the earth itself, and something more ancient +still, as of burned-out fires in the Huge mass of trap-rock. + +Everything warned Bobby to lie still in safety until morning and the +world was restored to its normal aspects. But ah! in the highest type +of man and dog, self-sacrifice, and not self-preservation, is the first +law. A deserted grave cried to him across the void, the anguish of +protecting love urged him on to take perilous chances. Falling upon a +narrow shelf of rock, he had bounded off and into a thicket of thorns. +Bruised and shaken and bewildered, he lay there for a time and tried to +get his bearings. + +Bobby knew only that the way was downward. He put out a paw and felt for +the edge of the shelf. A thorn bush rooted below tickled his nose. He +dropped into that and scrambled out again. Loose earth broke under his +struggles and carried him swiftly down to a new level. He slipped in the +wet moss of a spring before he heard the tinkle of the water, lost his +foothold, and fell against a sharp point of rock. The shadowy spire of a +fir-tree looming in a parting of the vapor for an instant, Bobby leaped +to the ledge upon which it was rooted. + +Foot by foot he went down, with no guidance at all. It is the nature +of such long, low, earth dogs to go by leaps and bounds like foxes, +calculating distances nicely when they can see, and tearing across the +roughest country with the speed of the wild animals they hunt. And where +the way is very steep they can scramble up or down any declivity that is +at a lesser angle than the perpendicular. Head first they go downward, +setting the fore paws forward, the claws clutching around projections +and in fissures, the weight hung from the stout hindquarters, the body +flattened on the earth. + +Thus Bobby crept down steep descents in safety, but his claws were +broken in crevices and his feet were torn and pierced by splinters of +rock and thorns. Once he went some distance into a cave and had to back +up and out again. And then a promising slope shelving under suddenly, +where he could not retreat, he leaped, turned over and over in the air, +and fell stunned. His heart filled with fear of the unseen before him, +the little dog lay for a long time in a clump of whins. He may even have +dozed and dreamed, to be awakened with starts by his misery of longing, +and once by the far-away barking of a dog. It came up deadened, as if +from fathoms below. He stood up and listened, but the sound was not +repeated. His lacerated feet burned and throbbed; his bruised muscles +had begun to stiffen, so that every movement was a pain. + +In these lower levels there was more smoke, that smeared out and +thickened the mist. Suddenly a breath of air parted the fog as if it +were a torn curtain. Like a shot Bobby went down the crag, leaping from +rock to rock, scrambling under thorns and hazel shrubs, dropping over +precipitous ledges, until he looked down a sheer fall on which not even +a knot of grass could find a foothold. He took the leap instantly, and +his thick fleece saved him from broken bones; but when he tried to get +up again his body was racked with pain and his hind legs refused to +serve him. + +Turning swiftly, he snarled and bit, at them in angry disbelief that his +good little legs should play false with his stout heart. Then he quite +forgot his pain, for there was the sharp ring of iron on an anvil and +the dull glow of a forge fire, where a smith was toiling in the early +hours of the morning. A clever and resourceful little dog, Bobby made +shift to do without legs. Turning on his side, he rolled down the last +slope of Castle Rock. Crawling between two buildings and dropping from +the terrace on which they stood, he fell into a little street at the +west end and above the Grassmarket. + +Here the odors were all of the stables. He knew the way, and that it was +still downward. The distance he had to go was a matter of a quarter of a +mile, or less, and the greater part of it was on the level, through +the sunken valley of the Grassmarket. But Bobby had literally to drag +himself now; and he had still to pull him self up by his fore paws over +the wet and greasy cobblestones of Candlemakers Row. Had not the great +leaves of the gate to the kirkyard been left on the latch, he would +have had to lie there in the alcove, with his nose under the bars, until +morning. But the gate gave way to his push, and so, he dragged himself +through it and around the kirk, and stretched himself on Auld Jock's +grave. + +It was the birds that found him there in the misty dawn. They were used +to seeing Bobby scampering about, for the little watchman was awake and +busy as early as the feathered dwellers in the kirkyard. But, in what +looked to be a wet and furry door-mat left out overnight on the grass, +they did not know him at all. The throstles and skylarks were shy of it, +thinking it might be alive. The wrens fluffed themselves, scolded it, +and told it to get up. The blue titmice flew over it in a flock again +and again, with much sweet gossiping, but they did not venture nearer. A +redbreast lighted on the rose bush that marked Auld Jock's grave, cocked +its head knowingly, and warbled a little song, as much as to say: “If +it's alive that will wake it up.” + +As Bobby did not stir, the robin fluttered down, studied him from all +sides, made polite inquiries that were not answered, and concluded that +it would be quite safe to take a silver hair for nest lining. Then, +startled by the animal warmth or by a faint, breathing movement, it +dropped the shining trophy and flew away in a shrill panic. At that, all +the birds set up such an excited crying that they waked Tammy. + +From the rude loophole of a window that projected from the old Cunzie +Neuk, the crippled laddie could see only the shadowy tombs and the long +gray wall of the two kirks, through the sunny haze. But he dropped his +crutches over, and climbed out onto the vault. Never before had Bobby +failed to hear that well-known tap-tap-tapping on the graveled path, nor +failed to trot down to meet it with friskings of welcome. But now he lay +very still, even when a pair of frail arms tried to lift his dead weight +to a heaving breast, and Tammy's cry of woe rang through the kirkyard. +In a moment Ailie and Mistress Jeanie were in the wet grass beside them, +half a hundred casements flew open, and the piping voices of tenement +bairns cried-down: + +“Did the bittie doggie come hame?” + +Oh yes, the bittie doggie had come hame, indeed, but down such perilous +heights as none of them dreamed; and now in what a woeful plight! + +Some murmur of the excitement reached an open dormer of the Temple +tenements, where Geordie Ross had slept with one ear of the born doctor +open. Snatching up a case of first aids to the injured, he ran down the +twisting stairs to the Grassmarket, up to the gate, and around the kirk, +to find a huddled group of women and children weeping over a limp little +bundle of a senseless dog. He thrust a bottle of hartshorn under +the black muzzle, and with a start and a moan Bobby came back to +consciousness. + +“Lay him down flat and stop your havers,” ordered the business-like, +embryo medicine man. “Bobby's no' dead. Laddie, you're a braw soldier +for holding your ain feelings, so just hold the wee dog's head.” Then, +in the reassuring dialect: “Hoots, Bobby, open the bit mou' noo, an' +tak' the medicine like a mannie!” Down the tiny red cavern of a throat +Geordie poured a dose that galvanized the small creature into life. + +“Noo, then, loup, ye bonny rascal!” + +Bobby did his best to jump at Geordie's bidding. He was so glad to be at +home and to see all these familiar faces of love that he lifted himself +on his fore paws, and his happy heart almost put the power to loup into +his hind legs. But when he tried to stand up he cried out with the pains +and sank down again, with an apologetic and shamefaced look that was +worthy of Auld Jock himself. Geordie sobered on the instant. + +“Weel, now, he's been hurt. We'll just have to see what ails the sonsie +doggie.” He ran his hand down the parting in the thatch to discover if +the spine had been injured. When he suddenly pinched the ball of a hind +toe Bobby promptly resented it by jerking his head around and looking at +him reproachfully. The bairns were indignant, too, but Geordie grinned +cheerfully and said: “He's no' paralyzed, at ony rate.” He turned as +footsteps were heard coming hastily around the kirk. + +“A gude morning to you, Mr. Traill. Bobby may have been run over by a +cart and got internal injuries, but I'm thinking it's just sprains and +bruises from a bad fall. He was in a state of collapse, and his claws +are as broken and his toes as torn as if he had come down Castle Rock.” + +This was such an extravagant surmise that even the anxious landlord +smiled. Then he said, drily: + +“You're a braw laddie, Geordie, and gudehearted, but you're no' a doctor +yet, and, with your leave, I'll have my ain medical man tak' a look at +Bobby.” + +“Ay, I would,” Geordie agreed, cordially. “It's worth four shullings to +have your mind at ease, man. I'll just go up to the lodge and get a warm +bath ready, to tak' the stiffness out of his muscles, and brew a tea +from an herb that wee wild creatures know all about and aye hunt for +when they're ailing.” + +Geordie went away gaily, to take disorder and evil smells into Mistress +Jeanie's shining kitchen. + +No sooner had the medical student gone up to the lodge, and the children +had been persuaded to go home to watch the proceedings anxiously from +the amphitheater of the tenement windows, than the kirkyard gate was +slammed back noisily by a man in a hurry. It was the sergeant who, in +the splendor of full uniform, dropped in the wet grass beside Bobby. + +“Lush! The sma' dog got hame, an' is still leevin'. Noo, God forgie +me--” + +“Eh, man, what had you to do with Bobby's misadventure?” + +Mr. Traill fixed an accusing eye on the soldier, remembering suddenly +his laughing threat to kidnap Bobby. The story came out in a flood of +remorseful words, from Bobby's following of the troops so gaily into the +Castle to his desperate escape over the precipice. + +“Noo,” he said, humbly, “gin it wad be ony satisfaction to ye, I'll gang +up to the Castle an' put on fatigue dress, no' to disgrace the unifarm +o' her Maijesty, an' let ye tak' me oot on the Burghmuir an' gie me a +gude lickin'.” + +Mr. Traill shrugged his shoulders. “Naething would satisfy me, man, but +to get behind you and kick you over the Firth into the Kingdom of Fife.” + +He turned an angry back on the sergeant and helped Geordie lift Bobby +onto Mrs. Brown's braided hearth-rug and carry the improvised litter up +to the lodge. In the kitchen the little dog was lowered into a hot bath, +dried, and rubbed with liniments under his fleece. After his lacerated +feet had been cleaned and dressed with healing ointments and tied up, +Bobby was wrapped in Mistress Jeanie's best flannel petticoat and laid +on the hearth-rug, a very comfortable wee dog, who enjoyed his breakfast +of broth and porridge. + +Mr. Brown, hearing the commotion and perishing of curiosity, demanded +that some one should come and help him out of bed. As no attention +was paid to him he managed to get up himself and to hobble out to the +kitchen just as Mr. Traill's ain medical man came in. Bobby's spine was +examined again, the tail and toes nipped, the heart tested, and all the +soft parts of his body pressed and punched, in spite of the little dog's +vigorous objections to these indignities. + +“Except for sprains and bruises the wee dog is all right. Came down +Castle Crag in the fog, did he? He's a clever and plucky little chap, +indeed, and deserving of a hero medal to hang on the Lord Provost's +collar. You've done very well, Mr. Ross. Just take as good care of him +for a week or so and he could do the gallant deed again.” + +Mr. Brown listened to the story of Bobby's adventures with a mingled +look of disgust at the foolishness of men, pride in Bobby's prowess, +and resentment at having been left out of the drama of the night before. +“It's maist michty, noo, Maister Traill, that ye wad tak' the leeberty +o' leein' to me,” he complained. + +“It was a gude lee or a bad nicht for an ill man. Geordie will tell +you that a mind at ease is worth four shullings, and I'm charging you +naething. Eh, man, you're deeficult to please.” As he went out into the +kirkyard Mr. Traill stopped to reflect on a strange thing: “'You've done +very well, Mr. Ross.' Weel, weel, how the laddies do grow up! But I'm +no' going to admit it to Geordie.” + +Another thought, over which he chuckled, sent him off to find the +sergeant. The soldier was tramping gloomily about in the wet, to the +demoralization of his beautiful boots. + +“Man, since a stormy nicht eight years ago last November I've aye been +looking for a bigger weel meaning fule than my ain sel'. You're the man, +so if you'll just shak' hands we'll say nae more about it.” + +He did not explain this cryptic remark, but he went on to assure the +sorry soldier that Bobby had got no serious hurt and would soon be as +well as ever. They had turned toward the gate when a stranger with a +newspaper in his hand peered mildly around the kirk and inquired “Do ye +ken whaur's the sma' dog, man?” As Mr. Traill continued to stare at him +he explained, patiently: “It's Greyfriars Bobby, the bittie terrier the +Laird Provost gied the collar to. Hae ye no' seen 'The Scotsman' the +day?” + +The landlord had not. And there was the story, Bobby's, name heading +quite a quarter of a broad column of fine print, and beginning with: +“A very singular and interesting occurrence was brought to light in the +Burgh court by the hearing of a summons in regard to a dog tax.” + Bobby was a famous dog, and Mr. Traill came in for a goodly portion of +reflected glory. He threw up his hands in dismay. + +“It's all over the toon, Sergeant.” Turning to the stranger, he assured +him that Bobby was not to be seen. “He hurt himsel' coming down Castle +Rock in the nicht, and is in the lodge with the caretaker, wha's fair +ill. Hoo do I ken?” testily. “Weel, man, I'm Mr. Traill.” + +He saw at once how unwise was that admission, for he had to shake hands +with the cordial stranger. And after dismissing him there was another at +the gate who insisted upon going up to the lodge to see the little hero. +Here was a state of things, indeed, that called upon all the powers of +the resourceful landlord. + +“All the folk in Edinburgh will be coming, and the poor woman be deaved +with their spiering.” And then he began to laugh. “Did you ever hear o' +sic a thing as poetic justice, Sergeant? Nae, it's no' the kind you'll +get in the courts of law. Weel, it's poetic justice for a birkie +soldier, wha claims the airth and the fullness thereof, to have to tak' +his orders from a sma' shopkeeper. Go up to the police office in St. +Gila now and ask for an officer to stand at the gate here to answer +questions, and to keep the folk awa' from the lodge.” + +He stood guard himself, and satisfied a score of visitors before the +sergeant came back, and there was another instance of poetic justice, in +the crestfallen Burgh policeman who had been sent with instructions to +take his orders from the delighted landlord. + +“Eh, Davie, it's a lang lane that has nae turning. Ye're juist to stand +here a' the day an' say to ilka body wha spiers for the dog: 'Ay, sir, +Greyfriars Bobby's been leevin' i' the kirkyaird aucht years an' mair, +an' Maister Traill's aye fed 'im i' the dining-rooms. Ay, the case was +dismissed i' the Burgh coort. The Laird Provost gied a collar to the bit +Skye because there's a meddlin' fule or twa amang the Burgh police wha'd +be takin' 'im up. The doggie's i' the lodge wi' the caretaker, wha's +fair ill, an' he canna be seen the day. But gang aroond the kirk an' ye +can see Auld Jock's grave that he's aye guarded. There's nae stave to +it, but it's neist to the fa'en table-tomb o' Mistress Jean Grant. A +gude day to ye.' Hae ye got a' that, man? Weel, cheer up. Yell hae to +say it nae mair than a thousand times or twa, atween noo an' nichtfa'.” + +He went away laughing at the penance that was laid upon his foe. The +landlord felt so well satisfied with the world that he took another +jaunty crack at the sergeant: “By richts, man, you ought to go to gaol, +but I'll just fine you a shulling a month for Bobby's natural lifetime, +to give the wee soldier a treat of a steak or a chop once a week.” + +Hands were struck heartily on the bargain, and the two men parted good +friends. Now, finding Ailie dropping tears in the dish-water, Mr. Traill +sent her flying down to the lodge with instructions to make herself +useful to Mrs. Brown. Then he was himself besieged in his place of +business by folk of high and low degree who were disappointed by their +failure to see Bobby in the kirkyard. Greyfriars Dining-Rooms had more +distinguished visitors in a day than they had had in all the years since +Auld Jock died and a little dog fell there at the landlord's feet “a' +but deid wi' hunger.” + +Not one of all the grand folk who, inquired for Bobby at the kirkyard +or at the restaurant got a glimpse of him that day. But after they +were gone the tenement dwellers came up to the gate again, as they had +gathered the evening before, and begged that they might just tak' a look +at him and his braw collar. “The bonny bit is the bairns' ain doggie, +an' the Laird Provost himsel' told 'em he wasna to be neglectet,” was +one mother's plea. + +Ah! that was very true. To the grand folk who had come to see him, Bobby +was only a nine-days' wonder. His story had touched the hearts of all +orders of society. For a time strangers would come to see him, and then +they would forget all about him or remember him only fitfully. It was to +these poor people around the kirkyard, themselves forgotten by the more +fortunate, that the little dog must look for his daily meed of affection +and companionship. Mr. Traill spoke to them kindly. + +“Bide a wee, noo, an' I'll fetch the doggie doon.” + +Bobby had slept blissfully nearly all the day, after his exhausting +labors and torturing pains. But with the sunset bugle he fretted to be +let out. Ailie had wept and pleaded, Mrs. Brown had reasoned with him, +and Mr. Brown had scolded, all to the end of persuading him to sleep in +“the hoose the nicht.” But when no one was watching him Bobby crawled +from his rug and dragged himself to the door. He rapped the floor with +his tail in delight when Mr. Traill came in and bundled him up on the +rug, so he could lie easily, and carried him down to the gate. + +For quite twenty minutes these neighbors and friends of Bobby filed by +silently, patted the shaggy little head, looked at the grand plate with +Bobby's and the Lord Provost's names upon it, and believed their own +wondering een. Bobby wagged his tail and lolled his tongue, and now and +then he licked the hand of a baby who had to be lifted by a tall brother +to see him. Shy kisses were dropped on Bobby's head by toddling bairns, +and awkward caresses by rough laddies. Then they all went home quietly, +and Mr. Traill carried the little dog around the kirk. + +And there, ah! so belated, Auld Jock's grave bore its tribute of +flowers. Wreaths and nosegays, potted daffodils and primroses and +daisies, covered the sunken mound so that some of them had to be moved +to make room for Bobby. He sniffed and sniffed at them, looked up +inquiringly at Mr. Traill; and then snuggled down contentedly among +the blossoms. He did not understand their being there any more than +he understood the collar about which everybody made such a to-do. The +narrow band of leather would disappear under his thatch again, and would +be unnoticed by the casual passer-by; the flowers would fade and never +be so lavishly renewed; but there was another more wonderful gift, now, +that would never fail him. + +At nightfall, before the drum and bugle sounded the tattoo to call the +scattered garrison in the Castle, there took place a loving ceremony +that was never afterward omitted as long as Bobby lived. Every child +newly come to the tenements learned it, every weanie lisped it among his +first words. Before going to bed each bairn opened a casement. Sometimes +a candle was held up--a little star of love, glimmering for a moment on +the dark; but always there was a small face peering into the melancholy +kirkyard. In midsummer, and at other seasons if the moon rose full and +early and the sky was clear, Bobby could be seen on the grave. And when +he recovered from these hurts he trotted about, making the circuit below +the windows. He could not speak there, because he had been forbidden, +but he could wag his tail and look up to show his friendliness. And +whether the children saw him or not they knew he was always there after +sunset, keeping watch and ward, and “lanely” because his master had gone +away to heaven; and so they called out to him sweetly and clearly: + +“A gude nicht to ye, Bobby.” + + + + +XII. + +In one thing Mr. Traill had been mistaken: the grand folk did not forget +Bobby. At the end of five years the leal Highlander was not only still +remembered, but he had become a local celebrity. + +Had the grave of his haunting been on the Pentlands or in one of the +outlying cemeteries of the city Bobby must have been known to few of his +generation, and to fame not at all. But among churchyards Greyfriars was +distinguished. One of the historic show-places of Edinburgh, and in +the very heart of the Old Town, it was never missed by the most hurried +tourist, seldom left unvisited, from year to year, by the oldest +resident. Names on its old tombs had come to mean nothing to those +who read them, except as they recalled memorable records of love, +of inspiration, of courage, of self-sacrifice. And this being so, it +touched the imagination to see, among the marbles that crumbled toward +the dust below, a living embodiment of affection and fidelity. Indeed, +it came to be remarked, as it is remarked to-day, although four decades +have gone by, that no other spot in Greyfriars was so much cared for as +the grave of a man of whom nothing was known except that the life and +love of a little dog was consecrated to his memory. + +At almost any hour Bobby might be found there. As he grew older he +became less and less willing to be long absent, and he got much of his +exercise by nosing about among the neighboring thorns. In fair weather +he took his frequent naps on the turf above his master, or he sat on +the fallen table-tomb in the sun. On foul days he watched the grave from +under the slab, and to that spot he returned from every skirmish against +the enemy. Visitors stopped to speak to him. Favored ones were permitted +to read the inscription on his collar and to pat his head. It seemed, +therefore, the most natural thing in the world when the greatest lady in +England, beside the Queen, the Baroness Burdett-Coutts, came all the way +from London to see Bobby. + +Except that it was the first Monday in June, and Founder's Day at +Heriot's Hospital, it was like any other day of useful work, innocent +pleasure, and dreaming dozes on Auld Jock's grave to wee Bobby. As years +go, the shaggy little Skye was an old dog, but he was not feeble or +blind or unhappy. A terrier, as a rule, does not live as long as more +sluggish breeds of dogs, but, active to the very end, he literally +wears himself out tearing around, and then goes, little soldier, very +suddenly, dying gallantly with his boots on. + +In the very early mornings of the northern summer Bobby woke with the +birds, a long time before the reveille was sounded from the Castle. He +scampered down to the circling street of tombs at once, and not until +the last prowler had been dispatched, or frightened into his burrow, did +he return for a brief nap on Auld Jock's grave. + +All about him the birds fluttered and hopped and gossiped and foraged, +unafraid. They were used, by this time, to seeing the little dog lying +motionless, his nose on his paws. Often some tidbit of food lay there, +brought for Bobby by a stranger. He had learned that a Scotch bun +dropped near him was a feast that brought feathered visitors about and +won their confidence and cheerful companionship. When he awoke he lay +there lolling and blinking, following the blue rovings of the titmice +and listening to the foolish squabbles of the sparrows and the shrewish +scoldings of the wrens. He always started when a lark sprang at his feet +and a cataract of melody tumbled from the sky. + +But, best of all, Bobby loved a comfortable and friendly robin +redbreast--not the American thrush that is called a robin, but the +smaller Old World warbler. It had its nest of grass and moss and +feathers, and many a silver hair shed by Bobby, low in a near-by thorn +bush. In sweet and plaintive talking notes it told its little dog +companion all about the babies that had left the nest and the new brood +that would soon be there. On the morning of that wonderful day of the +Grand Leddy's first coming, Bobby and the redbreast had a pleasant visit +together before the casements began to open and the tenement bairns +called down their morning greeting: + +“A gude day to ye, Bobby.” + +By the time all these courtesies had been returned Tammy came in at the +gate with his college books strapped on his back. The old Cunzic +Neuk had been demolished by Glenormiston, and Tammy, living in better +quarters, was studying to be a teacher at Heriot's. Bobby saw him +settled, and then he had to escort Mr. Brown down from the lodge. The +caretaker made his way about stiffly with a cane and, with the aid of +a young helper who exasperated the old gardener by his cheerful +inefficiency, kept the auld kirkyard in beautiful order. + +“Eh, ye gude-for-naethin' tyke,” he said to Bobby, in transparent +pretense of his uselessness. “Get to wark, or I'll hae a young dog in to +gie ye a lift, an' syne whaur'll ye be?” + +Bobby jumped on him in open delight at this, as much as to say: “Ye may +be as dour as ye like, but ilka body kens ye're gude-hearted.” + +Morning and evening numerous friends passed the gate, and the wee +dog waited for them on the wicket. Dr. George Ross and Mr. Alexander +McGregor shook Bobby's lifted paw and called him a sonsie rascal. Small +merchants, students, clerks, factory workers, house servants, laborers +and vendors, all honest and useful people, had come up out of these old +tenements within Bobby's memory; and others had gone down, alas! into +the Cowgate. But Bobby's tail wagged for these unfortunates, too, and +some of them had no other friend in the world beside that uncalculating +little dog. + +When the morning stream of auld acquaintance had gone by, and none +forgot, Bobby went up to the lodge to sit for an hour with Mistress +Jeanie. There he was called “croodlin' doo”--which was altogether +absurd--by the fond old woman. As neat of plumage, and as busy and +talkative about small domestic matters as the robin, Bobby loved to +watch the wifie stirring savory messes over the fire, watering her +posies, cleaning the fluttering skylark's cage, or just sitting by the +hearth or in the sunny doorway with him, knitting warm stockings for her +rheumatic gude-mon. + +Out in the kirkyard Bobby trotted dutifully at the caretaker's heels. +When visitors were about he did not venture to take a nap in the open +unless Mr. Brown was on guard, and, by long and close companionship with +him, the aging man could often tell what Bobby was dreaming about. At +a convulsive movement and a jerk of his head the caretaker would say to +the wifie, if she chanced to be near: + +“Leuk at that, noo, wull ye? The sperity bit was takin' thae fou' +vermin.” And again, when the muscles of his legs worked rhythmically, +“He's rinnin' wi' the laddies or the braw soldiers on the braes.” + +Bobby often woke from a dream with a start, looked dazed, and then +foolish, at the vivid imaginings of sleep. But when, in a doze, he half +stretched himself up on his short, shagged fore paws, flattened out, and +then awoke and lay so, very still, for a time, it was Mistress Jeanie +who said: + +“Preserve us a'! The bonny wee was dreamin' o' his maister's deith, an' +noo he's greetin' sair.” + +At that she took her little stool and sat on the grave beside him. But +Mr. Brown bit his teeth in his pipe, limped away, and stormed at his +daft helper laddie, who didn't appear to know a violet from a burdock. + +Ah! who can doubt that, so deeply were scene and word graven on his +memory, Bobby often lived again the hour of his bereavement, and heard +Auld Jock's last words: + +“Gang--awa'--hame--laddie!” + +Homeless on earth, gude Auld Jock had gone to a place prepared for him. +But his faithful little dog had no home. This sacred spot was merely +his tarrying place, where he waited until such a time as that mysterious +door should open for him, perchance to an equal sky, and he could slip +through and find his master. + +On the morning of the day when the Grand Leddy came Bobby watched the +holiday crowd gather on Heriot's Hospital grounds. The mothers and +sisters of hundreds of boys were there, looking on at the great match +game of cricket. Bobby dropped over the wall and scampered about, taking +a merry part in the play. When the pupils' procession was formed, and +the long line of grinning and nudging laddies marched in to service in +the chapel and dinner in the hall, he was set up over the kirkyard wall, +hundreds of hands were waved to him, and voices called back: “Fareweel, +Bobby!” Then the time-gun boomed from the Castle, and the little dog +trotted up for his dinner and nap under the settle and his daily visit +with Mr. Traill. + +In fair weather, when the last guest had departed and the music bells of +St. Giles had ceased playing, the landlord was fond of standing in his +doorway, bareheaded and in shirt-sleeves and apron, to exchange opinions +on politics, literature and religion, or to tell Bobby's story to what +passers-by he could beguile into talk. At his feet, there, was a fine +place for a sociable little dog to spend an hour. When he was ready to +go Bobby set his paws upon Mr. Traill and waited for the landlord's hand +to be laid on his head and the man to say, in the dialect the little +dog best understood: “Bide a wee. Ye're no' needin' to gang sae sune, +laddie!” + +At that he dropped, barked politely, wagged his tail, and was off. If +Mr. Traill really wanted to detain Bobby he had only to withhold the +magic word “laddie,” that no one else had used toward the little dog +since Auld Jock died. But if the word was too long in coming, Bobby +would thrash his tail about impatiently, look up appealingly, and +finally rise and beg and whimper. + +“Weel, then, bide wi' me, an' ye'll get it ilka hour o' the day, ye +sonsie, wee, talon' bit! What are ye hangin' aroond for? Eh--weel--gang +awa' wi' ye--laddie!” The landlord sighed and looked down reproachfully. +With a delighted yelp, and a lick of the lingering hand, Bobby was off. + +It was after three o'clock on this day when he returned to the kirkyard. +The caretaker was working at the upper end, and the little dog was +lonely. But; long enough absent from his master, Bobby lay down on the +grave, in the stillness of the mid-afternoon. The robin made a brief +call and, as no other birds were about, hopped upon Bobby's back, +perched on his head, and warbled a little song. It was then that the +gate clicked. Dismissing her carriage and telling the coachman to return +at five, Lady Burdett-Coutts entered the kirkyard. + +Bobby trotted around the kirk on the chance of meeting a friend. He +looked up intently at the strange lady for a moment, and she stood still +and looked down at him. She was not a beautiful lady, nor very young. +Indeed, she was a few years older than the Queen, and the Queen was a +widowed grandmother. But she had a sweet dignity and warm serenity--an +unhurried look, as if she had all the time in the world for a wee dog; +and Bobby was an age-whitened muff of a plaintive terrier that captured +her heart at once. Very certain that this stranger knew and cared about +how he felt, Bobby turned and led her down to Auld Jock's grave. And +when she was seated on the table-tomb he came up to her and let her look +at his collar, and he stood under her caress, although she spoke to +him in fey English, calling him a darling little dog. Then, entirely +contented with her company, he lay down, his eyes fixed upon her and +lolling his tongue. + +The sun was on the green and flowery slope of Greyfriars, warming the +weathered tombs and the rear windows of the tenements. The Grand Leddy +found a great deal there to interest her beside Bobby and the robin that +chirped and picked up crumbs between the little dog's paws. Presently +the gate was opened again and a housemaid from some mansion in George +Square came around the kirk. Trained by Mistress Jeanie, she was a neat +and pretty and pleasant-mannered housemaid, in a black gown and white +apron, and with a frilled cap on her crinkly, gold-brown hair that had +had more than “a lick or twa the nicht afore.” + +“It's juist Ailie,” Bobby seemed to say, as he stood a moment with +crested neck and tail. “Ilka body kens Ailie.” + +The servant lassie, with an hour out, had stopped to speak to Bobby. She +had not meant to stay long, but the lady, who didn't look in the least +grand, began to think friendly things aloud. + +“The windows of the tenements are very clean.” + +“Ay. The bairnies couldna see Bobby gin the windows warna washed.” The +lassie was pulling her adored little pet's ears, and Bobby was nuzzling +up to her. + +“In many of the windows there is a box of flowers, or of kitchen herbs +to make the broth savory.” + +“It wasna so i' the auld days. It was aye washin's clappin' aboon the +stanes. Noo, mony o' the mithers hang the claes oot at nicht. Ilka thing +is changed sin' I was a wean an' leevin' i' the auld Guildhall, the +bairnies haen Bobby to lo'e, an' no' to be neglectet.” She continued the +conversation to include Tammy as he came around the kirk on his tapping +crutches. + +“Hoo mony years is it, Tammy, sin' Bobby's been leevin' i' the auld +kirkyaird? At Maister Traill's snawy picnic ye war five gangin' on sax.” + They exchanged glances in which lay one of the happy memories of sad +childhoods. + +“Noo I'm nineteen going on twenty. It's near fourteen years syne, +Ailie.” Nearly all the burrs had been pulled from Tammy's tongue, but +he used a Scotch word now and then, no' to shame Ailie's less cultivated +speech. + +“So long?” murmured the Grand Leddy. “Bobby is getting old, very old for +a terrier.” + +As if to deny that, Bobby suddenly shot down the slope in answer to a +cry of alarm from a song thrush. Still good for a dash, when he came +back he dropped panting. The lady put her hand on his rippling coat +and felt his heart pounding. Then she looked at his worn down teeth and +lifted his veil. Much of the luster was gone from Bobby's brown eyes, +but they were still soft and deep and appealing. + +From the windows children looked down upon the quiet group and, without +in the least knowing why they wanted to be there, too, the tenement +bairns began to drop into the kirkyard. Almost at once it rained--a +quick, bright, dashing shower that sent them all flying and laughing up +to the shelter of the portico to the new kirk. Bobby scampered up, too, +and with the bairns in holiday duddies crowding about her, and the wee +dog lolling at her feet, the Grand Leddy talked fairy stories. + +She told them all about a pretty country place near London. It was +called Holly Lodge because its hedges were bright with green leaves +and red berries, even in winter. A lady who had no family at all lived +there, and to keep her company she had all sorts of pets. Peter and +Prince were the dearest dogs, and Cocky was a parrot that could say the +most amusing things. Sir Garnet was the llama goat, or sheep--she +didn't know which. There was a fat and lazy old pony that had long been +pensioned off on oats and clover, and--oh yes--the white donkey must not +be forgotten! + +“O-o-o-oh! I didna ken there wad be ony white donkeys!” cried a big-eyed +laddie. + +“There cannot be many, and there's a story about how the lady came to +have this one. One day, driving in a poor street, she saw a coster--that +is a London peddler--beating his tired donkey that refused to pull the +load. The lady got out of her carriage, fed the animal some carrots from +the cart, talked kindly to him right into his big, surprised ear, and +stroked his nose. Presently the poor beast felt better and started off +cheerfully with the heavy cart. When many costers learned that it was +not only wicked but foolish to abuse their patient animals, they hunted +for a white donkey to give the lady. They put a collar of flowers about +his neck, and brought him up on a platform before a crowd of people. +Everybody laughed, for he was a clumsy and comical beast to be decorated +with roses and daisies. But the lady is proud of him, and now that +pampered donkey has nothing to do but pull her Bath chair about, when +she is at Holly Lodge, and kick up his heels on a clover pasture.” + +“Are ye kennin' anither tale, Leddy?” + +“Oh, a number of them. Prince, the fox terrier, was ill once, and the +doctor who came to see him said his mistress gave him too much to eat. +That was very probable, because that lady likes to see children and +animals have too much to eat. There are dozens and dozens of poor +children that the lady knows and loves. Once they lived in a very dark +and dirty and crowded tenement, quite as bad as some that were torn down +in the Cowgate and the Grassmarket.” + +“It mak's ye fecht ane anither,” said one laddie, soberly. “Gin they had +a sonsie doggie like Bobby to lo'e, an' an auld kirkyaird wi' posies an' +birdies to leuk into, they wadna fecht sae muckle.” + +“I'm very sure of that. Well, the lady built a new tenement with plenty +of room and light and air, and a market so they can get better food more +cheaply, and a large church, that is also a kind of school where big +and little people can learn many things. She gives the children of +the neighborhood a Christmas dinner and a gay tree, and she strips the +hedges of Holly Lodge for them, and then she takes Peter and Prince, +and Cocky the parrot, to help along the fun, and she tells her newest +stories. Next Christmas she means to tell the story of Greyfriars Bobby, +and how all his little Scotch friends are better-behaving and cleaner +and happier because they have that wee dog to love.” + +“Ilka body lo'es Bobby. He wasna ever mistreatet or neglectet,” said +Ailie, thoughtfully. + +“Oh--my--dear! That's the very best part of the story!” The Grand Leddy +had a shining look. + +The rain had ceased and the sun come out, and the children began to be +called away. There was quite a little ceremony of lingering leave-taking +with the lady and with Bobby, and while this was going on Ailie had a +“sairious” confidence for her old playfellow. + +“Tammy, as the leddy says, Bobby's gettin' auld. I ken whaur's a snawy +hawthorn aboon the burn in Swanston Dell. The throstles nest there, +an' the blackbirds whustle bonny. It isna so far but the bairnies could +march oot wi' posies.” She turned to the lady, who had overheard her. +“We gied a promise to the Laird Provost to gie Bobby a grand funeral. Ye +ken he wullna be permittet to be buried i' the kirkyaird.” + +“Will he not? I had not thought of that.” Her tone was at once hushed +and startled. + +Then she was down in the grass, brooding over the little dog, and Bobby +had the pathetic look of trying to understand what this emotional talk, +that seemed to concern himself, was about. Tammy and Ailie were down, +too. + +“Are ye thinkin' Bobby wall be kennin' the deeference?” Ailie's bluebell +eyes were wide at the thought of pain for this little pet. + +“I do not know, my dear. But there cannot well be more love in this +world than there is room for in God's heaven.” + +She was silent all the way to the gate, some thought in her mind already +working toward a gracious deed. At the last she said: “The little dog +is fond of you both. Be with him all you can, for I think his beautiful +life is near its end.” After a pause, during which her face was lighted +by a smile, as if from a lovely thought within, she added: “Don't let +Bobby die before my return from London.” + +In a week she was back, and in the meantime letters and telegrams had +been flying, and many wheels set in motion in wee Bobby's affairs. When +she returned to the churchyard, very early one morning, no less a person +than the Lord Provost himself was with her. Five years had passed, but +Mr.--no, Sir William--Chambers, Laird of Glenormiston, for he had been +knighted by the Queen, was still Lord Provost of Edinburgh. + +Almost immediately Mr. Traill appeared, by appointment, and was made +all but speechless for once in his loquacious life by the honor of being +asked to tell Bobby's story to the Baroness Burdett-Coutts. But not even +a tenement child or a London coster could be ill at ease with the Grand +Leddy for very long, and presently the three were in close conference in +the portico. Bobby welcomed them, and then dozed in the sun and visited +with the robin on Auld Jock's grave. Far from being tongue-tied, the +landlord was inspired. What did he not remember, from the pathetic +renunciation, “Bobby isna ma ain dog,” down to the leal Highlander's +last, near tragic reminder to men that in the nameless grave lay his +unforgotten master. + +He sketched the scene in Haddo's Hole, where the tenement bairns poured +out as pure a gift of love and mercy and self-sacrifice as had ever +been laid at the foot of a Scottish altar. He told of the search for the +lately ransomed and lost terrier, by the lavish use of oil and candles; +of Bobby's coming down Castle Rock in the fog, battered and bruised for +a month's careful tending by an old Heriot laddie. His feet still showed +the scars of that perilous descent. He himself, remorseful, had gone +with the Biblereader from the Medical Mission in the Cowgate to the +dormer-lighted closet in College Wynd, where Auld Jock had died. Now he +described the classic fireplace of white freestone, with its boxed-in +bed, where the Pentland shepherd lay like some effigy on a bier, with +the wee guardian dog stretched on the flagged hearth below. + +“What a subject for a monument!” The Grand Leddy looked across the top +of the slope at the sleeping Skye. “I suppose there is no portrait of +Bobby.” + +“Ay, your Leddyship; I have a drawing in the dining rooms, sketched +by Mr. Daniel Maclise. He was here a year or twa ago, just before his +death, doing some commission, and often had his tea in my bit place. I +told him Bobby's story, and he made the sketch for me as a souvenir of +his veesit.” + +“I am sure you prize it, Mr. Traill. Mr. Maclise was a talented artist, +but he was not especially an animal painter. There really is no one +since Landseer paints no more.” + +“I would advise you, Baroness, not to make that remark at an Edinburgh +dinner-table.” Glenormiston was smiling. “The pride of Auld Reekie just +now is Mr. Gourlay Stelle, who was lately commanded to Balmoral Castle +to paint the Queen's dogs.” + +“The very person! I have seen his beautiful canvas--'Burns and the Field +Mouse.' Is he not a younger brother of Sir John Stelle, the sculptor +of the statue and character figures in the Scott monument?” Her eyes +sparkled as she added: “You have so much talent of the right, sorts here +that it would be wicked not to employ it in the good cause.” + +What “the good cause” was came out presently, in the church, where +she startled even Glenormiston and Mr. Traill by saying quietly to the +minister and the church officers of Greyfriars auld kirk: “When Bobby +dies I want him laid in the grave with his master.” + +Every member of both congregations knew Bobby and was proud of his fame, +but no official notice had ever been taken of the little dog's presence +in the churchyard. The elders and deacons were, in truth, surprised that +such distinguished attention should be directed to him now, and they +were embarrassed by it. It was not easy for any body of men in the +United Kingdom to refuse anything to Lady Burdett-Coutts, because she +could always count upon having the sympathy of the public. But this, +they declared, could not be considered. To propose to bury a dog in +the historic churchyard would scandalize the city. To this objection +Glenormiston said, seriously: “The feeling about Bobby is quite +exceptional. I would be willing to put the matter to the test of heading +a petition.” + +At that the church officers threw up their hands. They preferred to +sound public sentiment themselves, and would consider it. But if Bobby +was permitted to be buried with his master there must be no notice taken +of it. Well, the Heriot laddies might line up along the wall, and the +tenement bairns look down from the windows. Would that satisfy her +ladyship? + +“As far as it goes.” The Grand Leddy was smiling, but a little tremulous +about the mouth. + +That was a day when women had little to say in public, and she meant to +make a speech, and to ask to be allowed to do an unheard-of thing. + +“I want to put up a monument to the nameless man who inspired such love, +and to the little dog that was capable of giving it. Ah gentlemen, do +not refuse, now.” She sketched her idea of the classic fireplace bier, +the dead shepherd of the Pentlands, and the little prostrate terrier. +“Immemorial man and his faithful dog. Our society for the prevention of +cruelty to animals is finding it so hard to get people even to admit the +sacredness of life in dumb creatures, the brutalizing effects of abuse +of them on human beings, and the moral and practical worth to us of +kindness. To insist that a dog feels, that he loves devotedly and with +less calculation than men, that he grieves at a master's death and +remembers him long years, brings a smile of amusement. Ah yes! Here in +Scotland, too, where your own great Lord Erskine was a pioneer of pity +two generations ago, and with Sir Walter's dogs beloved of the literary, +and Doctor Brown's immortal 'Rab,' we find it uphill work. + +“The story of Greyfriars Bobby is quite the most complete and remarkable +ever recorded in dog annals. His lifetime of devotion has been witnessed +by thousands, and honored publicly, by your own Lord Provost, with the +freedom of the city, a thing that, I believe, has no precedent. All +the endearing qualities of the dog reach their height in this loyal +and lovable Highland terrier; and he seems to have brought out the best +qualities of the people who have known him. Indeed, for fourteen years +hundreds of disinherited children have been made kinder and happier by +knowing Bobby's story and having that little dog to love.” + +She stopped in some embarrassment, seeing how she had let herself go, in +this warm championship, and then she added: + +“Bobby does not need a monument, but I think we need one of him, that +future generations may never forget what the love of a dog may mean, to +himself and to us.” + +The Grand Leddy must have won her plea, then and there, but for the fact +that the matter of erecting a monument of a public character anywhere +in the city had to come up before the Burgh council. In that body the +stubborn opposition of a few members unexpectedly developed, and, in +spite of popular sympathy with the proposal, the plan was rejected. +Permission was given, however, for Lady Burdett-Coutts to put up a +suitable memorial to Bobby at the end of George IV Bridge, and opposite +the main gateway to the kirkyard. + +For such a public place a tomb was unsuitable. What form the memorial +was to take was not decided upon until, because of two chance happenings +of one morning, the form of it bloomed like a flower in the soul of the +Grand Leddy. She had come down to the kirkyard to watch the artist at +work. Morning after morning he had sketched there. He had drawn Bobby +lying down, his nose on his paws, asleep on the grave. He had drawn him +sitting upon the table-tomb, and standing in the begging attitude in +which he was so irresistible. But with every sketch he was dissatisfied. + +Bobby was a trying and deceptive subject. He had the air of curiosity +and gaiety of other terriers. He saw no sense at all in keeping still, +with his muzzle tipped up or down, and his tail held just so. He brushed +all that unreasonable man's suggestions aside as quite unworthy of +consideration. Besides, he had the liveliest interest in the astonishing +little dog that grew and disappeared, and came back, in some new +attitude, on the canvas. He scraped acquaintance with it once or twice +to the damage of fresh brush-work. He was always jumping from his pose +and running around the easel to see how the latest dog was coming on. + +After a number of mornings Bobby lost interest in the man and his +occupation and went about his ordinary routine of life as if the artist +was not there at all. One morning the wee terrier was found sitting on +the table-tomb, on his haunches, looking up toward the Castle, where +clouds and birds were blown around the sun-gilded battlements. + +His attitude might have meant anything or nothing, for the man who +looked at him from above could not see his expression. And all at once +he realized that to see Bobby a human being must get down to his level. +To the scandal of the children, he lay on his back on the grass and did +nothing at all but look up at Bobby until the little dog moved. Then he +set the wee Highlander up on an altar-topped shaft just above the level +of the human eye. Indifferent at the moment as to what was done to him, +Bobby continued to gaze up and out, wistfully and patiently, upon this +masterless world. As plainly as a little dog could speak, Bobby said: + +“I hae bided lang an' lanely. Hoo lang hae I still to bide? An' syne, +wull I be gangin' to Auld Jock?” + +The Grand Leddy saw that at once, and tears started to her eyes when +she came in to find the artist sketching with feverish rapidity. She +confessed that she had looked into Bobby's eyes, but she had never truly +seen that mourning little creature before. He had only to be set up so, +in bronze, and looking through the kirkyard gate, to tell his own story +to the most careless passerby. The image of the simple memorial was +clear in her mind, and it seemed unlikely that anything could be added +to it, when she left the kirkyard. + +As she was getting into her carriage a noble collie, but one with a +discouraged tail and hanging tongue, came out of Forest Road. He had +done a hard morning's work, of driving a flock from the Pentlands to the +cattle and sheep market, and then had hunted far and unsuccessfully +for water. He nosed along the gutter, here and there licking from the +cobblestones what muddy moisture had not drained away from a recent +rain. The same lady who had fed the carrots to the coster's donkey in +London turned hastily into Ye Olde Greyfriars Dining-Rooms, and asked +Mr. Traill for a basin of water. The landlord thought he must have +misunderstood her. “Is it a glass of water your Leddyship's wanting?” + +“No, a basin, please; a large one, and very quickly.” + +She took it from him, hurried out, and set it under the thirsty animal's +nose. The collie lapped it eagerly until the water was gone, then looked +up and, by waggings and lickings, asked for more. Mr. Traill brought out +a second basin, and he remarked upon a sheep-dog's capacity for water. + +“It's no' a basin will satisfy him, used as he is to having a tam on the +moor to drink from. This neeborhood is noted for the dogs that are aye +passing. On Wednesdays the farm dogs come up from the Grassmarket, and +every day there are weel-cared-for dogs from the residence streets, dogs +of all conditions across the bridge from High Street, and meeserable +waifs from the Cowgate. Stray pussies are about, too. I'm a gude-hearted +man, and an unco' observant one, your Leddyship, but I was no' thinking +that these animals must often suffer from thirst.” + +“Few people do think of it. Most men can love some one dog or cat or +horse and be attentive to its wants, but they take little thought +for the world of dumb animals that are so dependent upon us. It is no +special credit to you, Mr. Traill, that you became fond of an attractive +little dog like Bobby and have cared for him so tenderly.” + +The landlord gasped. He had taken not a little pride in his stanch +championship and watchful care of Bobby, and his pride had been +increased by the admiration that had been lavished on him for years by +the general public. Now, as he afterward confessed to Mr. Brown: + +“Her leddyship made me feel I'd done naething by the ordinar', but +maistly to please my ainsel'. Eh, man, she made me sing sma'.” + +When the collie had finished drinking, he looked up gratefully, rubbed +against the good Samaritans, waved his plumed tail like a banner, and +trotted away. After a thoughtful moment Lady Burdett-Coutts said: + +“The suitable memorial here, Mr. Traill, is a fountain, with a low +basin level with the curb, and a higher one, and Bobby sitting on an +altar-topped central column above, looking through the kirkyard gate. It +shall be his mission to bring men and small animals together in sympathy +by offering to both the cup of cold water.” + +She was there once again that year. On her way north she stopped in +Edinburgh over night to see how the work on the fountain had progressed. +It was in Scotland's best season, most of the days dry and bright and +sharp. But on that day it was misting, and yellow leaves were dropping +on the wet tombs and beaded grass, when the Grand Leddy appeared at the +kirkyard late in the afternoon with a wreath of laurel to lay on Auld +Jock's grave. + +Bobby slipped out, dry as his own delectable bone, from under the tomb +of Mistress Jean Grant, and nearly wagged his tail off with pleasure. +Mistress Jeanie was set in a proud flutter when the Grand Leddy rang at +the lodge kitchen and asked if she and Bobby could have their tea there +with the old couple by the cozy grate fire. + +They all drank tea from the best blue cups, and ate buttered scones and +strawberry jam on the scoured deal table. Bobby had his porridge and +broth on the hearth. The coals snapped in the grate and the firelight +danced merrily on the skylark's cage and the copper kettle. Mr. Brown +got out his fife and played “Bonnie Dundee.” Wee, silver-white Bobby +tried to dance, but he tumbled over so lamentably once or twice that he +hung his head apologetically, admitting that he ought to have the sense +to know that his dancing days were done. He lay down and lolled and +blinked on the hearth until the Grand Leddy rose to go. + +“I am on my way to Braemar to visit for a few days at Balmoral Castle. I +wish I could take Bobby with me to show him to the dear Queen.” + +“Preserve me!” cried Mistress Jeanie, and Mr. Brown's pet pipe was in +fragments on the hearth. + +Bobby leaped upon her and whimpered, saying “Dinna gang, Leddy!” as +plainly as a little dog could say anything. He showed the pathos at +parting with one he was fond of, now, that an old and affectionate +person shows. He clung to her gown, rubbed his rough head under her +hand, and trotted disconsolately beside her to her waiting carriage. At +the very last she said, sadly: + +“The Queen will have to come to Edinburgh to see Bobby.” + +“The bonny wee wad be a prood doggie, yer Leddyship,” Mistress Jeanie +managed to stammer, but Mr. Brown was beyond speech. + +The Grand Leddy said nothing. She looked at the foundation work of +Bobby's memorial fountain, swathed in canvas against the winter, and +waiting--waiting for the spring, when the waters of the earth should +be unsealed again; waiting until finis could be written to a story on a +bronze table-tomb; waiting for the effigy of a shaggy Skye terrier to be +cast and set up; waiting-- + +When the Queen came to see Bobby it was unlikely that he would know +anything about it. + +He would know nothing of the crowds to gather there on a public +occasion, massing on the bridge, in Greyfriars Place, in broad Chambers +Street, and down Candlemakers Row--the magistrates and Burgh council, +professors and students from the University, soldiers from the Castle, +the neighboring nobility in carriages, farmers and shepherds from the +Pentlands, the Heriot laddies marching from the school, and the tenement +children in holiday duddies--all to honor the memory of a devoted little +dog. He would know nothing of the military music and flowers, the prayer +of the minister of Greyfriars auld kirk, the speech of the Lord Provost; +nothing of the happy tears of the Grand Leddy when a veil should fall +away from a little bronze dog that gazed wistfully through the kirkyard +gate, and water gush forth for the refreshment of men and animals. + +“Good-by, good-by, good-by, Bobby; most loving and lovable, darlingest +wee dog in the world!” she cried, and a shower of bright drops and sweet +little sounds fell on Bobby's tousled head. Then the carriage of the +Grand Leddy rolled away in the rainy dusk. + +The hour-bell of St. Giles was rung, and the sunset bugle blown in the +Castle. It took Mr. Brown a long time to lift the wicket, close the tall +leaves and lock the gate. The wind was rising, and the air hardening. +One after one the gas lamps flared in the gusts that blew on the bridge. +The huge bulk of shadow lay, velvet black, in the drenched quarry pit of +the Grassmarket. The caretaker's voice was husky with a sudden “cauld in +'is heid.” + +“Ye're an auld dog, Bobby, an' ye canna deny it. Ye'll juist hae to +sleep i' the hoose the misty nicht.” + +Loath to part with them, Bobby went up to the lodge with the old couple +and saw them within the cheerful kitchen. But when the door was held +open for him, he wagged his tail in farewell and trotted away around +the kirk. All the concession he was willing to make to old age and bad +weather was to sleep under the fallen table-tomb. + +Greyfriars on a dripping autumn evening! A pensive hour and season, +everything memorable brooded there. Crouched back in shadowy ranks, the +old tombs were draped in mystery. The mist was swirled by the wind and +smoke smeared out, over their dim shapes. Where families sat close about +scant suppers, the lights of candles and cruisey lamps were blurred. The +faintest halo hung above the Castle head. Infrequent footsteps hurried +by the gate. There was the rattle of a belated cart, the ring of a +distant church bell. But even on such nights the casements were opened +and little faces looked into the melancholy kirkyard. Candles glimmered +for a moment on the murk, and sweetly and clearly the tenement bairns +called down: + +“A gude nicht to ye, Bobby.” + +They could not see the little dog, but they knew he was there. They knew +now that he would still be there when they could see him no more--his +body a part of the soil, his memory a part of all that was held dear and +imperishable in that old garden of souls. They could go up to the lodge +and look at his famous collar, and they would have his image in bronze +on the fountain. And sometime, when the mysterious door opened for +them, they might see Bobby again, a sonsie doggie running on the green +pastures and beside the still waters, at the heels of his shepherd +master, for: + +If there is not more love in this world than there is room for in God's +heaven, Bobby would just have “gaen awa' hame.” + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Greyfriars Bobby, by Eleanor Atkinson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GREYFRIARS BOBBY *** + +***** This file should be named 2693-0.txt or 2693-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/9/2693/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteeer + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/2693-0.zip b/2693-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d6716fc --- /dev/null +++ b/2693-0.zip diff --git a/2693-h.zip b/2693-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..784a2f9 --- /dev/null +++ b/2693-h.zip diff --git a/2693-h/2693-h.htm b/2693-h/2693-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2fac4d7 --- /dev/null +++ b/2693-h/2693-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7854 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Greyfriars Bobby, by Eleanor Atkinson + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Greyfriars Bobby, by Eleanor Atkinson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Greyfriars Bobby + +Author: Eleanor Atkinson + +Release Date: December 8, 2008 [EBook #2693] +Last Updated: March 14, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GREYFRIARS BOBBY *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteeer, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + GREYFRIARS BOBBY + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Eleanor Atkinson + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> IV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> V. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> VI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> VIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> X. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> XI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> XII. </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + I. + </h2> + <p> + When the time-gun boomed from Edinburgh Castle, Bobby gave a startled + yelp. He was only a little country dog—the very youngest and + smallest and shaggiest of Skye terriers—bred on a heathery slope of + the Pentland hills, where the loudest sound was the bark of a collie or + the tinkle of a sheep-bell. That morning he had come to the weekly market + with Auld Jock, a farm laborer, and the Grassmarket of the Scottish + capital lay in the narrow valley at the southern base of Castle Crag. Two + hundred feet above it the time-gun was mounted in the half-moon battery on + an overhanging, crescent-shaped ledge of rock. In any part of the city the + report of the one-o'clock gun was sufficiently alarming, but in the + Grassmarket it was an earth-rending explosion directly overhead. It needed + to be heard but once there to be registered on even a little dog's brain. + Bobby had heard it many times, and he never failed to yelp a sharp protest + at the outrage to his ears; but, as the gunshot was always followed by a + certain happy event, it started in his active little mind a train of + pleasant associations. + </p> + <p> + In Bobby's day of youth, and that was in 1858, when Queen Victoria was a + happy wife and mother, with all her bairns about her knees in Windsor or + Balmoral, the Grassmarket of Edinburgh was still a bit of the Middle Ages, + as picturesquely decaying and Gothic as German Nuremberg. Beside the + classic corn exchange, it had no modern buildings. North and south, along + its greatest length, the sunken quadrangle was faced by tall, old, + timber-fronted houses of stone, plastered like swallows' nests to the + rocky slopes behind them. + </p> + <p> + Across the eastern end, where the valley suddenly narrowed to the + ravine-like street of the Cowgate, the market was spanned by the lofty, + crowded arches of George IV Bridge. This high-hung, viaduct thoroughfare, + that carried a double line of buildings within its parapet, leaped the + gorge, from the tall, old, Gothic rookeries on High Street ridge, just + below the Castle esplanade. It cleared the roofs of the tallest, oldest + houses that swarmed up the steep banks from the Cowgate, and ran on, by + easy descent, to the main gateway of Greyfriars kirkyard at the lower top + of the southern rise. + </p> + <p> + Greyfriars' two kirks formed together, under one continuous roof, a long, + low, buttressed building without tower or spire. The new kirk was of Queen + Anne's day, but the old kirk was built before ever the Pilgrims set sail + for America. It had been but one of several sacred buildings, set in a + monastery garden that sloped pleasantly to the open valley of the + Grassmarket, and looked up the Castle heights unhindered. In Bobby's day + this garden had shrunk to a long, narrow, high-piled burying-ground, that + extended from the rear of the line of buildings that fronted on the + market, up the slope, across the hilltop, and to where the land began to + fall away again, down the Burghmuir. From the Grassmarket, kirk and + kirkyard lay hidden behind and above the crumbling grandeur of noble halls + and mansions that had fallen to the grimiest tenements of Edinburgh's + slums. From the end of the bridge approach there was a glimpse of massive + walls, of pointed windows, and of monumental tombs through a double-leafed + gate of wrought iron, that was alcoved and wedged in between the ancient + guildhall of the candlemakers and a row of prosperous little shops in + Greyfriars Place. + </p> + <p> + A rock-rimmed quarry pit, in the very heart of Old Edinburgh, the + Grassmarket was a place of historic echoes. The yelp of a little dog there + would scarce seem worthy of record. More in harmony with its stirring + history was the report of the time-gun. At one o'clock every day, there + was a puff of smoke high up in the blue or gray or squally sky, then a + deafening crash and a back fire fusillade of echoes. The oldest frequenter + of the market never got used to it. On Wednesday, as the shot broke across + the babel of shrill bargaining, every man in the place jumped, and not one + was quicker of recovery than wee Bobby. Instantly ashamed, as an + intelligent little dog who knew the import of the gun should be, Bobby + denied his alarm in a tiny pink yawn of boredom. Then he went briskly + about his urgent business of finding Auld Jock. + </p> + <p> + The market was closed. In five minutes the great open space was as empty + of living men as Greyfriars kirkyard on a week-day. Drovers and hostlers + disappeared at once into the cheap and noisy entertainment of the White + Hart Inn that fronted the market and set its squalid back against Castle + Rock. Farmers rapidly deserted it for the clean country. Dwellers in the + tenements darted up wynds and blind closes, climbed twisting turnpike + stairs to windy roosts under the gables, or they scuttled through noble + doors into foul courts and hallways. Beggars and pickpockets swarmed under + the arches of the bridge, to swell the evil smelling human river that + flowed at the dark and slimy bottom of the Cowgate. + </p> + <p> + A chill November wind tore at the creaking iron cross of the Knights of + St. John, on the highest gable of the Temple tenements, that turned its + decaying back on the kirkyard of the Greyfriars. Low clouds were tangled + and torn on the Castle battlements. A few horses stood about, munching + oats from feed-boxes. Flocks of sparrows fluttered down from timbered + galleries and rocky ledges to feast on scattered grain. Swallows wheeled + in wide, descending spirals from mud villages under the cornices to catch + flies. Rats scurried out of holes and gleaned in the deserted corn + exchange. And 'round and 'round the empty market-place raced the frantic + little terrier in search of Auld Jock. + </p> + <p> + Bobby knew, as well as any man, that it was the dinner hour. With the + time-gun it was Auld Jock's custom to go up to a snug little restaurant; + that was patronized chiefly by the decent poor small shopkeepers, clerks, + tenant farmers, and medical students living in cheap lodgings—in + Greyfriars Place. There, in Ye Olde Greyfriars Dining-Rooms, owned by Mr. + John Traill, and four doors beyond the kirkyard gate, was a cozy little + inglenook that Auld Jock and Bobby had come to look upon as their own. At + its back, above a recessed oaken settle and a table, a tiny paned window + looked up and over a retaining wall into the ancient place of the dead. + </p> + <p> + The view of the heaped-up and crowded mounds and thickets of old slabs and + throughstones, girt all about by time-stained monuments and vaults, and + shut in on the north and east by the backs of shops and lofty slum + tenements, could not be said to be cheerful. It suited Auld Jock, however, + for what mind he had was of a melancholy turn. From his place on the + floor, between his master's hob-nailed boots, Bobby could not see the + kirkyard, but it would not, in any case, have depressed his spirits. He + did not know the face of death and, a merry little ruffian of a terrier, + he was ready for any adventure. + </p> + <p> + On the stone gate pillar was a notice in plain English that no dogs were + permitted in Greyfriars. As well as if he could read, Bobby knew that the + kirkyard was forbidden ground. He had learned that by bitter experience. + Once, when the little wicket gate that held the two tall leaves ajar by + day, chanced to be open, he had joyously chased a cat across the graves + and over the western wall onto the broad green lawn of Heriot's Hospital. + </p> + <p> + There the little dog's escapade bred other mischief, for Heriot's Hospital + was not a hospital at all, in the modern English sense of being a refuge + for the sick. Built and christened in a day when a Stuart king reigned in + Holyrood Palace, and French was spoken in the Scottish court, Heriot's was + a splendid pile of a charity school, all towers and battlements, and + cheerful color, and countless beautiful windows. Endowed by a beruffed and + doubleted goldsmith, “Jinglin' Geordie” Heriot, who had “nae brave laddie + o' his ain,” it was devoted to the care and education of “puir orphan an' + faderless boys.” There it had stood for more than two centuries, in a + spacious park, like the country-seat of a Lowland laird, but hemmed in by + sordid markets and swarming slums. The region round about furnished an + unfailing supply of “puir orphan an' faderless boys” who were as + light-hearted and irresponsible as Bobby. + </p> + <p> + Hundreds of the Heriot laddies were out in the noon recess, playing + cricket and leap-frog, when Bobby chased that unlucky cat over the + kirkyard wall. He could go no farther himself, but the laddies took up the + pursuit, yelling like Highland clans of old in a foray across the border. + The unholy din disturbed the sacred peace of the kirkyard. Bobby dashed + back, barking furiously, in pure exuberance of spirits. He tumbled gaily + over grassy hummocks, frisked saucily around terrifying old mausoleums, + wriggled under the most enticing of low-set table tombs and sprawled, + exhausted, but still happy and noisy, at Auld Jock's feet. + </p> + <p> + It was a scandalous thing to happen in any kirkyard! The angry caretaker + was instantly out of his little stone lodge by the gate and taking Auld + Jock sharply to task for Bobby's misbehavior. The pious old shepherd, + shocked himself and publicly disgraced, stood, bonnet in hand, humbly + apologetic. Seeing that his master was getting the worst of it, Bobby + rushed into the fray, an animated little muff of pluck and fury, and + nipped the caretaker's shins. There was a howl of pain, and a “maist + michty” word that made the ancient tombs stand aghast. Master and dog were + hustled outside the gate and into a rabble of jeering slum gamin. + </p> + <p> + What a to-do about a miserable cat! To Bobby there was no logic at all in + the denouement to this swift, exciting drama. But he understood Auld + Jock's shame and displeasure perfectly. Good-tempered as he was gay and + clever, the little dog took his punishment meekly, and he remembered it. + Thereafter, he passed the kirk yard gate decorously. If he saw a cat that + needed harrying he merely licked his little red chops—the outward + sign of a desperate self-control. And, a true sport, he bore no malice + toward the caretaker. + </p> + <p> + During that first summer of his life Bobby learned many things. He learned + that he might chase rabbits, squirrels and moor-fowl, and sea-gulls and + whaups that came up to feed in plowed fields. Rats and mice around byre + and dairy were legitimate prey; but he learned that he must not annoy + sheep and sheep-dogs, nor cattle, horses and chickens. And he discovered + that, unless he hung close to Auld Jock's heels, his freedom was in danger + from a wee lassie who adored him. He was no lady's lap-dog. From the + bairnie's soft cosseting he aye fled to Auld Jock and the rough + hospitality of the sheep fold. Being exact opposites in temperaments, but + alike in tastes, Bobby and Auld Jock were inseparable. In the quiet corner + of Mr. Traill's crowded dining-room they spent the one idle hour of the + week together, happily. Bobby had the leavings of a herring or haddie, for + a rough little Skye will eat anything from smoked fish to moor-fowl eggs, + and he had the tidbit of a farthing bone to worry at his leisure. Auld + Jock smoked his cutty pipe, gazed at the fire or into the kirk-yard, and + meditated on nothing in particular. + </p> + <p> + In some strange way that no dog could understand, Bobby had been separated + from Auld Jock that November morning. The tenant of Cauldbrae farm had + driven the cart in, himself, and that was unusual. Immediately he had + driven out again, leaving Auld Jock behind, and that was quite outside + Bobby's brief experience of life. Beguiled to the lofty and coveted + driver's seat where, with lolling tongue, he could view this interesting + world between the horse's ears, Bobby had been spirited out of the city + and carried all the way down and up to the hilltop toll-bar of + Fairmilehead. It could not occur to his loyal little heart that this + treachery was planned nor, stanch little democrat that he was, that the + farmer was really his owner, and that he could not follow a humbler master + of his own choosing. He might have been carried to the distant farm, and + shut safely in the byre with the cows for the night, but for an incautious + remark of the farmer. With the first scent of the native heather the horse + quickened his pace, and, at sight of the purple slopes of the Pentlands + looming homeward, a fond thought at the back of the man's mind very + naturally took shape in speech. + </p> + <p> + “Eh, Bobby; the wee lassie wull be at the tap o' the brae to race ye + hame.” + </p> + <p> + Bobby pricked his drop ears. Within a narrow limit, and concerning + familiar things, the understanding of human speech by these intelligent + little terriers is very truly remarkable. At mention of the wee lassie he + looked behind for his rough old friend and unfailing refuge. Auld Jock's + absence discovered, Bobby promptly dropped from the seat of honor and from + the cart tail, sniffed the smoke of Edinboro' town and faced right about. + To the farmer's peremptory call he returned the spicy repartee of a + cheerful bark. It was as much as to say: + </p> + <p> + “Dinna fash yersel'! I ken what I'm aboot.” + </p> + <p> + After an hour's hard run back over the dipping and rising country road and + a long quarter circuit of the city, Bobby found the high-walled, winding + way into the west end of the Grassmarket. To a human being afoot there was + a shorter cut, but the little dog could only retrace the familiar route of + the farm carts. It was a notable feat for a small creature whose tufted + legs were not more than six inches in length, whose thatch of long hair + almost swept the roadway and caught at every burr and bramble, and who was + still so young that his nose could not be said to be educated. + </p> + <p> + In the market-place he ran here and there through the crowd, hopefully + investigating narrow closes that were mere rifts in precipices of + buildings; nosing outside stairs, doorways, stables, bridge arches, + standing carts, and even hob-nailed boots. He yelped at the crash of the + gun, but it was another matter altogether that set his little heart to + palpitating with alarm. It was the dinner-hour, and where was Auld Jock? + </p> + <p> + Ah! A happy thought: his master had gone to dinner! + </p> + <p> + A human friend would have resented the idea of such base desertion and + sulked. But in a little dog's heart of trust there is no room for + suspicion. The thought simply lent wings to Bobby's tired feet. As the + market-place emptied he chased at the heels of laggards, up the + crescent-shaped rise of Candlemakers Row, and straight on to the familiar + dining-rooms. Through the forest of table and chair and human legs he made + his way to the back, to find a soldier from the Castle, in smart red coat + and polished boots, lounging in Auld Jock's inglenook. + </p> + <p> + Bobby stood stock still for a shocked instant. Then he howled dismally and + bolted for the door. Mr. John Traill, the smooth-shaven, hatchet-faced + proprietor, standing midway in shirtsleeves and white apron, caught the + flying terrier between his legs and gave him a friendly clap on the side. + </p> + <p> + “Did you come by your ainsel' with a farthing in your silky-purse ear to + buy a bone, Bobby? Whaur's Auld Jock?” + </p> + <p> + A fear may be crowded back into the mind and stoutly denied so long as it + is not named. At the good landlord's very natural question “Whaur's Auld + Jock?” there was the shape of the little dog's fear that he had lost his + master. With a whimpering cry he struggled free. Out of the door he went, + like a shot. He tumbled down the steep curve and doubled on his tracks + around the market-place. + </p> + <p> + At his onslaught, the sparrows rose like brown leaves on a gust of wind, + and drifted down again. A cold mist veiled the Castle heights. From the + stone crown of the ancient Cathedral of St. Giles, on High Street, floated + the melody of “The Bluebells of Scotland.” No day was too bleak for + bell-ringer McLeod to climb the shaking ladder in the windy tower and play + the music bells during the hour that Edinburgh dined. Bobby forgot to dine + that day, first in his distracted search, and then in his joy of finding + his master. + </p> + <p> + For, all at once, in the very strangest place, in the very strangest way, + Bobby came upon Auld Jock. A rat scurrying out from a foul and narrow + passage that gave to the rear of the White Hart Inn, pointed the little + dog to a nook hitherto undiscovered by his curious nose. Hidden away + between the noisy tavern and the grim, island crag was the old + cock-fighting pit of a ruder day. There, in a broken-down carrier's cart, + abandoned among the nameless abominations of publichouse refuse, Auld Jock + lay huddled in his greatcoat of hodden gray and his shepherd's plaid. On a + bundle of clothing tied in a tartan kerchief for a pillow, he lay very + still and breathing heavily. + </p> + <p> + Bobby barked as if he would burst his lungs. He barked so long, so loud, + and so furiously, running 'round and 'round the cart and under it and + yelping at every turn, that a slatternly scullery maid opened a door and + angrily bade him “no' to deave folk wi' 'is blatterin'.” Auld Jock she did + not see at all in the murky pit or, if she saw him, thought him some + drunken foreign sailor from Leith harbor. When she went in, she slammed + the door and lighted the gas. + </p> + <p> + Whether from some instinct of protection of his helpless master in that + foul and hostile place, or because barking had proved to be of no use + Bobby sat back on his haunches and considered this strange, disquieting + thing. It was not like Auld Jock to sleep in the daytime, or so soundly, + at any time, that barking would not awaken him. A clever and resourceful + dog, Bobby crouched back against the farthest wall, took a running leap to + the top of the low boots, dug his claws into the stout, home knitted + stockings, and scrambled up over Auld Jock's legs into the cart. In an + instant he poked his little black mop of a wet muzzle into his master's + face and barked once, sharply, in his ear. + </p> + <p> + To Bobby's delight Auld Jock sat up and blinked his eyes. The old eyes + were brighter, the grizzled face redder than was natural, but such matters + were quite outside of the little dog's ken. It was a dazed moment before + the man remembered that Bobby should not be there. He frowned down at the + excited little creature, who was wagging satisfaction from his nose-tip to + the end of his crested tail, in a puzzled effort to remember why. + </p> + <p> + “Eh, Bobby!” His tone was one of vague reproof. “Nae doot ye're fair + satisfied wi' yer ainsel'.” + </p> + <p> + Bobby's feathered tail drooped, but it still quivered, all ready to wag + again at the slightest encouragement. Auld Jock stared at him stupidly, + his dizzy head in his hands. A very tired, very draggled little dog, Bobby + dropped beside his master, panting, subdued by the reproach, but happy. + His soft eyes, veiled by the silvery fringe that fell from his high + forehead, were deep brown pools of affection. Auld Jock forgot, by and by, + that Bobby should not be there, and felt only the comfort of his + companionship. + </p> + <p> + “Weel, Bobby,” he began again, uncertainly. And then, because his Scotch + peasant reticence had been quite broken down by Bobby's shameless + devotion, so that he told the little dog many things that he cannily + concealed from human kind, he confided the strange weakness and dizziness + in the head that had overtaken him: “Auld Jock is juist fair silly the + day, bonny wee laddie.” + </p> + <p> + Down came a shaking, hot old hand in a rough caress, and up a gallant + young tail to wave like a banner. All was right with the little dog's + world again. But it was plain, even to Bobby, that something had gone + wrong with Auld Jock. It was the man who wore the air of a culprit. A + Scotch laborer does not lightly confess to feeling “fair silly,” nor sleep + away the busy hours of daylight. The old man was puzzled and humiliated by + this discreditable thing. A human friend would have understood his plight, + led the fevered man out of that bleak and fetid cul-de-sac, tucked him + into a warm bed, comforted him with a hot drink, and then gone swiftly for + skilled help. Bobby knew only that his master had unusual need of love. + </p> + <p> + Very, very early a dog learns that life is not as simple a matter to his + master as it is to himself. There are times when he reads trouble, that he + cannot help or understand, in the man's eye and voice. Then he can only + look his love and loyalty, wistfully, as if he felt his own shortcoming in + the matter of speech. And if the trouble is so great that the master + forgets to eat his dinner; forgets, also, the needs of his faithful little + friend, it is the dog's dear privilege to bear neglect and hunger without + complaint. Therefore, when Auld Jock lay down again and sank, almost at + once, into sodden sleep, Bobby snuggled in the hollow of his master's arm + and nuzzled his nose in his master's neck. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. + </h2> + <p> + While the bells played “There Grows a Bonny Briarbush in Our Kale Yard,” + Auld Jock and Bobby slept. They slept while the tavern emptied itself of + noisy guests and clattering crockery was washed at the dingy, gas-lighted + windows that overlooked the cockpit. They slept while the cold fell with + the falling day and the mist was whipped into driving rain. Almost a cave, + between shelving rock and house wall, a gust of wind still found its way + in now and then. At a splash of rain Auld Jock stirred uneasily in his + sleep. Bobby merely sniffed the freshened air with pleasure and curled + himself up for another nap. + </p> + <p> + No rain could wet Bobby. Under his rough outer coat, that was parted along + the back as neatly as the thatch along a cottage ridge-pole, was a dense, + woolly fleece that defied wind and rain, snow and sleet to penetrate. He + could not know that nature had not been as generous in protecting his + master against the weather. Although of a subarctic breed, fitted to live + shelterless if need be, and to earn his living by native wit, Bobby had + the beauty, the grace, and the charming manners of a lady's pet. In a + litter of prick-eared, wire-haired puppies Bobby was a “sport.” + </p> + <p> + It is said that some of the ships of the Spanish Armada, with French + poodles in the officers' cabins, were blown far north and west, and broken + up on the icy coasts of The Hebrides and Skye. Some such crossing of his + far-away ancestry, it would seem, had given a greater length and a crisp + wave to Bobby's outer coat, dropped and silkily fringed his ears, and + powdered his useful, slate-gray color with silver frost. But he had the + hardiness and intelligence of the sturdier breed, and the instinct of + devotion to the working master. So he had turned from a soft-hearted bit + lassie of a mistress, and the cozy chimney corner of the farm-house + kitchen, and linked his fortunes with this forlorn old laborer. + </p> + <p> + A grizzled, gnarled little man was Auld Jock, of tough fiber, but worn out + at last by fifty winters as a shepherd on the bleak hills of Midlothian + and Fife, and a dozen more in the low stables and storm-buffeted garrets + of Edinburgh. He had come into the world unnoted in a shepherd's lonely + cot. With little wit of mind or skill of hand he had been a common tool, + used by this master and that for the roughest tasks, when needed, put + aside, passed on, and dropped out of mind. Nothing ever belonged to the + man but his scant earnings. Wifeless, cotless, bairnless, he had slept, + since early boyhood, under strange roofs, eaten the bread of the hireling, + and sat dumb at other men's firesides. If he had another name it had been + forgotten. In youth he was Jock; in age, Auld Jock. + </p> + <p> + In his sixty-third summer there was a belated blooming in Auld Jock's + soul. Out of some miraculous caprice Bobby lavished on him a riotous + affection. Then up out of the man's subconscious memory came words learned + from the lips of a long-forgotten mother. They were words not meant for + little dogs at all, but for sweetheart, wife and bairn. Auld Jock used + them cautiously, fearing to be overheard, for the matter was a subject of + wonder and rough jest at the farm. He used them when Bobby followed him at + the plow-tail or scampered over the heather with him behind the flocks. He + used them on the market-day journeyings, and on summer nights, when the + sea wind came sweetly from the broad Firth and the two slept, like + vagabonds, on a haycock under the stars. The purest pleasure Auld Jock + ever knew was the taking of a bright farthing from his pocket to pay for + Bobby's delectable bone in Mr. Traill's place. + </p> + <p> + Given what was due him that morning and dismissed for the season to find + such work as he could in the city, Auld Jock did not question the farmer's + right to take Bobby “back hame.” Besides, what could he do with the noisy + little rascal in an Edinburgh lodging? But, duller of wit than usual, + feeling very old and lonely, and shaky on his legs, and dizzy in his head, + Auld Jock parted with Bobby and with his courage, together. With the + instinct of the dumb animal that suffers, he stumbled into the foul nook + and fell, almost at once, into a heavy sleep. Out of that Bobby roused him + but briefly. + </p> + <p> + Long before his master awoke, Bobby finished his series of refreshing + little naps, sat up, yawned, stretched his short, shaggy legs, sniffed at + Auld Jock experimentally, and trotted around the bed of the cart on a tour + of investigation. This proving to be of small interest and no profit, he + lay down again beside his master, nose on paws, and waited Auld Jock's + pleasure patiently. A sweep of drenching rain brought the old man suddenly + to his feet and stumbling into the market place. The alert little dog + tumbled about him, barking ecstatically. The fever was gone and Auld + Jock's head quite clear; but in its place was a weakness, an aching of the + limbs, a weight on the chest, and a great shivering. + </p> + <p> + Although the bell of St. Giles was just striking the hour of five, it was + already entirely dark. A lamp-lighter, with ladder and torch, was setting + a double line of gas jets to flaring along the lofty parapets of the + bridge. If the Grassmarket was a quarry pit by day, on a night of storm it + was the bottom of a reservoir. The height of the walls was marked by a + luminous crown from many lights above the Castle head, and by a student's + dim candle, here and there, at a garret window. The huge bulk of the + bridge cast a shadow, velvet black, across the eastern half of the market. + </p> + <p> + Had not Bobby gone before and barked, and run back, again and again, and + jumped up on Auld Jock's legs, the man might never have won his way across + the drowned place, in the inky blackness and against the slanted blast of + icy rain. When he gained the foot of Candlemakers Row, a crescent of tall, + old houses that curved upward around the lower end of Greyfriars kirkyard, + water poured upon him from the heavy timbered gallery of the Cunzie Neuk, + once the royal mint. The carting office that occupied the street floor was + closed, or Auld Jock would have sought shelter there. He struggled up the + rise, made slippery by rain and grime. Then, as the street turned + southward in its easy curve, there was some shelter from the house walls. + But Auld Jock was quite exhausted and incapable of caring for himself. In + the ancient guildhall of the candlemakers, at the top of the Row, was + another carting office and Harrow Inn, a resort of country carriers. The + man would have gone in there where he was quite unknown or, indeed, he + might even have lain down in the bleak court that gave access to the + tenements above, but for Bobby's persistent and cheerful barking, begging + and nipping. + </p> + <p> + “Maister, maister!” he said, as plainly as a little dog could speak, + “dinna bide here. It's juist a stap or two to food an' fire in' the cozy + auld ingleneuk.” + </p> + <p> + And then, the level roadway won at last, there was the railing of the + bridge-approach to cling to, on the one hand, and the upright bars of the + kirkyard gate on the other. By the help of these and the urging of wee + Bobby, Auld Jock came the short, steep way up out of the market, to the + row of lighted shops in Greyfriars Place. + </p> + <p> + With the wind at the back and above the housetops, Mr. Traill stood + bare-headed in a dry haven of peace in his doorway, firelight behind him, + and welcome in his shrewd gray eyes. If Auld Jock had shown any intention + of going by, it is not impossible that the landlord of Ye Olde Greyfriars + Dining-Rooms might have dragged him in bodily. The storm had driven all + his customers home. For an hour there had not been a soul in the place to + speak to, and it was so entirely necessary for John Traill to hear his own + voice that he had been known, in such straits, to talk to himself. Auld + Jock was not an inspiring auditor, but a deal better than naething; and, + if he proved hopeless, entertainment was to be found in Bobby. So Mr. + Traill bustled in before his guests, poked the open fire into leaping + flames, and heaped it up skillfully at the back with fresh coals. The good + landlord turned from his hospitable task to find Auld Jock streaming and + shaking on the hearth. + </p> + <p> + “Man, but you're wet!” he exclaimed. He hustled the old shepherd out of + his dripping plaid and greatcoat and spread them to the blaze. Auld Jock + found a dry, knitted Tam-o'-Shanter bonnet in his little bundle and set it + on his head. It was a moment or two before he could speak without the + humiliating betrayal of chattering teeth. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, it's a misty nicht,” he admitted, with caution. + </p> + <p> + “Misty! Man, it's raining like all the seven deils were abroad.” Having + delivered himself of this violent opinion, Mr. Traill fell into his usual + philosophic vein. “I have sma' patience with the Scotch way of making + little of everything. If Noah had been a Lowland Scot he'd 'a' said the + deluge was juist fair wet.”' + </p> + <p> + He laughed at his own wit, his thin-featured face and keen gray eyes + lighting up to a kindliness that his brusque speech denied in vain. He had + a fluency of good English at command that he would have thought + ostentatious to use in speaking with a simple country body. + </p> + <p> + Auld Jock stared at Mr. Traill and pondered the matter. By and by he + asked: “Wasna the deluge fair wet?” + </p> + <p> + The landlord sighed but, brought to book like that, admitted that it was. + Conversation flagged, however, while he busied himself with toasting a + smoked herring, and dragging roasted potatoes from the little iron oven + that was fitted into the brickwork of the fireplace beside the grate. + </p> + <p> + Bobby was attending to his own entertainment. The familiar place wore a + new and enchanting aspect, and needed instant exploration. By day it was + fitted with tables, picketed by chairs and all manner of boots. Noisy and + crowded, a little dog that wandered about there was liable to be trodden + upon. On that night of storm it was a vast, bright place, so silent one + could hear the ticking of the wag-at-the-wa' clock, the crisp crackling of + the flames, and the snapping of the coals. The uncovered deal tables were + set back in a double line along one wall, with the chairs piled on top, + leaving a wide passage of freshly scrubbed and sanded oaken floor from the + door to the fireplace. Firelight danced on the dark old wainscoting and + high, carved overmantel, winked on rows of drinking mugs and metal covers + over cold meats on the buffet, and even picked out the gilt titles on the + backs of a shelf of books in Mr. Traill's private corner behind the bar. + </p> + <p> + Bobby shook himself on the hearth to free his rain-coat of surplus water. + To the landlord's dry “We're no' needing a shower in the house. Lie down, + Bobby,” he wagged his tail politely, as a sign that he heard. But, as Auld + Jock did not repeat the order, he ignored it and scampered busily about + the room, leaving little trails of wet behind him. + </p> + <p> + This grill-room of Traill's place was more like the parlor of a country + inn, or a farm-house kitchen if there had been a built-in bed or two, than + a restaurant in the city. There, a humble man might see his herring + toasted, his bannocks baked on the oven-top, or his tea brewed to his + liking. On such a night as this the landlord would pull the settle out of + the inglenook to the hearth, set before the solitary guest a small table, + and keep the kettle on the hob. + </p> + <p> + “Spread yoursel' on both sides o' the fire, man. There'll be nane to keep + us company, I'm thinking. Ilka man that has a roof o' his ain will be + wearing it for a bonnet the nicht.” + </p> + <p> + As there was no answer to this, the skilled conversational angler dropped + a bit of bait that the wariest man must rise to. + </p> + <p> + “That's a vera intelligent bit dog, Auld Jock. He was here with the + time-gun spiering for you. When he didna find you he greeted like a + bairn.” + </p> + <p> + Auld Jock, huddled in the corner of the settle, so near the fire that his + jacket smoked, took so long a time to find an answer that Mr. Traill + looked at him keenly as he set the wooden plate and pewter mug on the + table. + </p> + <p> + “Man, you're vera ill,” he cried, sharply. In truth he was shocked and + self-accusing because he had not observed Auld Jock's condition before. + </p> + <p> + “I'm no' so awfu' ill,” came back in irritated denial, as if he had been + accused of some misbehavior. + </p> + <p> + “Weel, it's no' a dry herrin' ye'll hae in my shop the nicht. It's a hot + mutton broo wi' porridge in it, an' bits o' meat to tak' the cauld oot o' + yer auld banes.” + </p> + <p> + And there, the plate was whisked away, and the cover lifted from a + bubbling pot, and the kettle was over the fire for the brewing of tea. At + a peremptory order the soaked boots and stockings were off, and dry socks + found in the kerchief bundle. Auld Jock was used to taking orders from his + superiors, and offered no resistance to being hustled after this manner + into warmth and good cheer. Besides, who could have withstood that flood + of homely speech on which the good landlord came right down to the old + shepherd's humble level? Such warm feeling was established that Mr. Traill + quite forgot his usual caution and certain well-known prejudices of old + country bodies. + </p> + <p> + “Noo,” he said cheerfully, as he set the hot broth on the table, “ye maun + juist hae a doctor.” + </p> + <p> + A doctor is the last resort of the unlettered poor. The very threat of one + to the Scotch peasant of a half-century ago was a sentence of death. Auld + Jock blanched, and he shook so that he dropped his spoon. Mr. Traill + hastened to undo the mischief. + </p> + <p> + “It's no' a doctor ye'll be needing, ava, but a bit dose o' physic an' a + bed in the infirmary a day or twa.” + </p> + <p> + “I wullna gang to the infairmary. It's juist for puir toon bodies that are + aye ailin' an' deein'.” Fright and resentment lent the silent old man an + astonishing eloquence for the moment. “Ye wadna gang to the infairmary yer + ainsel', an' tak' charity.” + </p> + <p> + “Would I no'? I would go if I so much as cut my sma' finger; and I would + let a student laddie bind it up for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Weel, ye're a saft ane,” said Auld Jock. + </p> + <p> + It was a terrible word—“saft!” John Traill flushed darkly, and + relapsed into discouraged silence. Deep down in his heart he knew that a + regiment of soldiers from the Castle could not take him alive, a free + patient, into the infirmary. + </p> + <p> + But what was one to do but “lee,” right heartily, for the good of this + very sick, very poor, homeless old man on a night of pitiless storm? That + he had “lee'd” to no purpose and got a “saft” name for it was a blow to + his pride. + </p> + <p> + Hearing the clatter of fork and spoon, Bobby trotted from behind the bar + and saved the day of discomfiture. Time for dinner, indeed! Up he came on + his hind legs and politely begged his master for food. It was the + prettiest thing he could do, and the landlord delighted in him. + </p> + <p> + “Gie 'im a penny plate o' the gude broo,” said Auld Jock, and he took the + copper coin from his pocket to pay for it. He forgot his own meal in + watching the hungry little creature eat. Warmed and softened by Mr. + Traill's kindness, and by the heartening food, Auld Jock betrayed a + thought that had rankled in the depths of his mind all day. + </p> + <p> + “Bobby isna ma ain dog.” His voice was dull and unhappy. + </p> + <p> + Ah, here was misery deeper than any physical ill! The penny was his, a + senseless thing; but, poor, old, sick, hameless and kinless, the little + dog that loved and followed him “wasna his ain.” To hide the huskiness in + his own voice Mr. Traill relapsed into broad, burry Scotch. + </p> + <p> + “Dinna fash yersel', man. The wee beastie is maist michty fond o' ye, an' + ilka dog aye chooses 'is ain maister.” + </p> + <p> + Auld Jock shook his head and gave a brief account of Bobby's perversity. + On the very next market-day the little dog must be restored to the tenant + of Cauldbrae farm and, if necessary, tied in the cart. It was unlikely, + young as he was, that he would try to find his way back, all the way from + near the top of the Pentlands. In a day or two he would forget Auld Jock. + </p> + <p> + “I canna say it wullna be sair partin'—” And then, seeing the + sympathy in the landlord's eye and fearing a disgraceful breakdown, Auld + Jock checked his self betrayal. During the talk Bobby stood listening. At + the abrupt ending, he put his shagged paws up on Auld Jock's knee, + wistfully inquiring about this emotional matter. Then he dropped soberly, + and slunk away under his master's chair. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, he kens we're talkin' aboot 'im.” + </p> + <p> + “He's a knowing bit dog. Have you attended to his sairous education, man?” + </p> + <p> + “Nae, he's ower young.” + </p> + <p> + “Young is aye the time to teach a dog or a bairn that life is no' all + play. Man, you should put a sma' terrier at the vermin an' mak' him + usefu'.” + </p> + <p> + “It's eneugh, gin he's gude company for the wee lassie wha's fair fond o' + 'im,” Auld Jock answered, briefly. This was a strange sentiment from the + work-broken old man who, for himself, would have held ornamental idleness + sinful. He finished his supper in brooding silence. At last he broke out + in a peevish irritation that only made his grief at parting with Bobby + more apparent to an understanding man like Mr. Traill. + </p> + <p> + “I dinna ken what to do wi' 'im i' an Edinburgh lodgin' the nicht. The + auld wifie I lodge wi' is dour by the ordinar', an' wadna bide 'is + blatterin'. I couldna get 'im past 'er auld een, an' thae terriers are aye + barkin' aboot naethin' ava.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Traill's eyes sparkled at recollection of an apt literary story to + which Dr. John Brown had given currency. Like many Edinburgh shopkeepers, + Mr. Traill was a man of superior education and an omnivorous reader. And + he had many customers from the near-by University to give him a fund of + stories of Scotch writers and other worthies. + </p> + <p> + “You have a double plaid, man?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay. Ilka shepherd's got a twa-fold plaidie.” It seemed a foolish question + to Auld Jock, but Mr. Traill went on blithely. + </p> + <p> + “There's a pocket in the plaid—ane end left open at the side to mak' + a pouch? Nae doubt you've carried mony a thing in that pouch?” + </p> + <p> + “Nae, no' so mony. Juist the new-born lambs.” + </p> + <p> + “Weel, Sir Walter had a shepherd's plaid, and there was a bit lassie he + was vera fond of Syne, when he had been at the writing a' the day, and was + aff his heid like, with too mony thoughts, he'd go across the town and + fetch the bairnie to keep him company. She was a weel-born lassie, sax or + seven years auld, and sma' of her age, but no' half as sma' as Bobby, I'm + thinking.” He stopped to let this significant comparison sink into Auld + Jock's mind. “The lassie had nae liking for the unmannerly wind and snaw + of Edinburgh. So Sir Walter just happed her in the pouch of his plaid, and + tumbled her out, snug as a lamb and nane the wiser, in the big room wha's + walls were lined with books.” + </p> + <p> + Auld Jock betrayed not a glimmer of intelligence as to the personal + bearing of the story, but he showed polite interest. “I ken naethin' aboot + Sir Walter or ony o' the grand folk.” Mr. Traill sighed, cleared the table + in silence, and mended the fire. It was ill having no one to talk to but a + simple old body who couldn't put two and two together and make four. + </p> + <p> + The landlord lighted his pipe meditatively, and he lighted his cruisey + lamp for reading. Auld Jock was dry and warm again; oh, very, very warm, + so that he presently fell into a doze. The dining-room was so compassed on + all sides but the front by neighboring house and kirkyard wall and by the + floors above, that only a murmur of the storm penetrated it. It was so + quiet, indeed, that a tiny, scratching sound in a distant corner was heard + distinctly. A streak of dark silver, as of animated mercury, Bobby flashed + past. A scuffle, a squeak, and he was back again, dropping a big rat at + the landlord's feet and, wagging his tail with pride. + </p> + <p> + “Weel done, Bobby! There's a bite and a bone for you here ony time o' day + you call for it. Ay, a sensible bit dog will attend to his ain education + and mak' himsel' usefu'.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Traill felt a sudden access of warm liking for the attractive little + scrap of knowingness and pluck. He patted the tousled head, but Bobby + backed away. He had no mind to be caressed by any man beside his master. + After a moment the landlord took “Guy Mannering” down from the book-shelf. + Knowing his “Waverley” by heart, he turned at once to the passages about + Dandie Dinmont and his terriers—Mustard and Pepper and other spicy + wee rascals. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, terriers are sonsie, leal dogs. Auld Jock will have ane true mourner + at his funeral. I would no' mind if—” + </p> + <p> + On impulse he got up and dropped a couple of hard Scotch buns, very good + dog-biscuit, indeed, into the pocket of Auld Jock's greatcoat for Bobby. + The old man might not be able to be out the morn. With the thought in his + mind that some one should keep a friendly eye on the man, he mended the + fire with such an unnecessary clattering of the tongs that Auld Jock + started from his sleep with a cry. + </p> + <p> + “Whaur is it you have your lodging, Jock?” the landlord asked, sharply, + for the man looked so dazed that his understanding was not to be reached + easily. He got the indefinite information that it was at the top of one of + the tall, old tenements “juist aff the Coogate.” + </p> + <p> + “A lang climb for an auld man,” John Traill said, compassionately; then, + optimistic as usual, “but it's a lang climb or a foul smell, in the poor + quarters of Edinburgh.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay. It's weel aboon the fou' smell.” With some comforting thought that he + did not confide to Mr. Traill but that ironed lines out of his old face, + Auld Jock went to sleep again. Well, the landlord reflected, he could + remain there by the fire until the closing hour or later, if need be, and + by that time the storm might ease a bit, so that he could get to his + lodging without another wetting. + </p> + <p> + For an hour the place was silent, except for the falling clinkers from the + grate, the rustling of book-leaves, and the plumping of rain on the + windows, when the wind shifted a point. Lost in the romance, Mr. Traill + took no note of the passing time or of his quiet guests until he felt a + little tug at his trouser-leg. + </p> + <p> + “Eh, laddie?” he questioned. Up the little dog rose in the begging + attitude. Then, with a sharp bark, he dashed back to his master. + </p> + <p> + Something was very wrong, indeed. Auld Jock had sunk down in his seat. His + arms hung helplessly over the end and back of the settle, and his legs + were sprawled limply before him. The bonnet that he always wore, outdoors + and in, had fallen from his scant, gray locks, and his head had dropped + forward on his chest. His breathing was labored, and he muttered in his + sleep. + </p> + <p> + In a moment Mr. Traill was inside his own greatcoat, storm boots and + bonnet. At the door he turned back. The shop was unguarded. Although + Greyfriars Place lay on the hilltop, with the sanctuary of the kirkyard + behind it, and the University at no great distance in front, it was but a + step up from the thief-infested gorge of the Cowgate. The landlord locked + his moneydrawer, pushed his easy-chair against it, and roused Auld Jock so + far as to move him over from the settle. The chief responsibility he laid + on the anxious little dog, that watched his every movement. + </p> + <p> + “Lie down, Bobby, and mind Auld Jock. And you're no' a gude dog if you + canna bark to waken the dead in the kirkyard, if ony strange body comes + about.” + </p> + <p> + “Whaur are ye gangin'?” cried Auld Jock. He was wide awake, with burning, + suspicious eyes fixed on his host. + </p> + <p> + “Sit you down, man, with your back to my siller. I'm going for a doctor.” + The noise of the storm, as he opened the door, prevented his hearing the + frightened protest: + </p> + <p> + “Dinna ging!” + </p> + <p> + The rain had turned to sleet, and Mr. Traill had trouble in keeping his + feet. He looked first into the famous Book Hunter's Stall next door, on + the chance of finding a medical student. The place was open, but it had no + customers. He went on to the bridge, but there the sheriff's court, the + Martyr's church, the society halls and all the smart shops were closed, + their dark fronts lighted fitfully by flaring gas-lamps. The bitter night + had driven all Edinburgh to private cover. + </p> + <p> + From the rear came a clear whistle. Some Heriot laddie who, being not + entirely a “puir orphan,” but only “faderless” and, therefore, living + outside the school with his mother, had been kept after nightfall because + of ill-prepared lessons or misbehavior. Mr. Traill turned, passed his own + door, and went on southward into Forest Road, that skirted the long arm of + the kirkyard. + </p> + <p> + From the Burghmuir, all the way to the Grassmarket and the Cowgate, was + downhill. So, with arms winged, and stout legs spread wide and braced, + Geordie Ross was sliding gaily homeward, his knitted tippet a gallant + pennant behind. Here was a Mercury for an urgent errand. + </p> + <p> + “Laddie, do you know whaur's a doctor who can be had for a shulling or two + for a poor auld country body in my shop?” + </p> + <p> + “Is he so awfu' ill?” Geordie asked with the morbid curiosity of lusty + boyhood. + </p> + <p> + “He's a' that. He's aff his heid. Run, laddie, and dinna be standing there + wagging your fule tongue for naething.” + </p> + <p> + Geordie was off with speed across the bridge to High Street. Mr. Traill + struggled back to his shop, against wind and treacherous ice, thinking + what kind of a bed might be contrived for the sick man for the night. In + the morning the daft auld body could be hurried, willy-nilly, to a bed in + the infirmary. As for wee Bobby he wouldn't mind if— + </p> + <p> + And there he ran into his own wide-flung door. A gale blew through the + hastily deserted place. Ashes were scattered about the hearth, and the + cruisey lamp flared in the gusts. Auld Jock and Bobby were gone. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. + </h2> + <p> + Although dismayed and self-accusing for having frightened Auld Jock into + taking flight by his incautious talk of a doctor, not for an instant did + the landlord of Greyfriars Dining-Rooms entertain the idea of following + him. The old man had only to cross the street and drop down the incline + between the bridge approach and the ancient Chapel of St. Magdalen to be + lost in the deepest, most densely peopled, and blackest gorge in + Christendom. + </p> + <p> + Well knowing that he was safe from pursuit, Auld Jock chuckled as he + gained the last low level. Fever lent him a brief strength, and the cold + damp was grateful to his hot skin. None were abroad in the Cowgate; and + that was lucky for, in this black hole of Edinburgh, even so old and poor + a man was liable to be set upon by thieves, on the chance of a few + shillings or pence. + </p> + <p> + Used as he was to following flocks up treacherous braes and through + drifted glens, and surefooted as a collie, Auld Jock had to pick his way + carefully over the slimy, ice-glazed cobble stones of the Cowgate. He + could see nothing. The scattered gas-lamps, blurred by the wet, only made + a timbered gallery or stone stairs stand out here and there or lighted up + a Gothic gargoyle to a fantastic grin. The street lay so deep and narrow + that sleet and wind wasted little time in finding it out, but roared and + rattled among the gables, dormers and chimney-stacks overhead. Happy in + finding his master himself again, and sniffing fresh adventure, Bobby + tumbled noisily about Auld Jock's feet until reproved. And here was + strange going. Ancient and warring smells confused and insulted the little + country dog's nose. After a few inquiring and protesting barks Bobby fell + into a subdued trot at Auld Jock's heels. + </p> + <p> + To this shepherd in exile the romance of Old Edinburgh was a sealed book. + It was, indeed, difficult for the most imaginative to believe that the + Cowgate was once a lovely, wooded ravine, with a rustic burn babbling over + pebbles at its bottom, and along the brook a straggling path worn smooth + by cattle on their driven way to the Grassmarket. Then, when the Scottish + nobility was crowded out of the piled-up mansions, on the sloping ridge of + High Street that ran the mile from the Castle to Holyrood Palace, splendor + camped in the Cowgate, in villas set in fair gardens, and separated by + hedge-rows in which birds nested. + </p> + <p> + In time this ravine, too, became overbuilt. Houses tumbled down both + slopes to the winding cattle path, and the burn was arched over to make a + thoroughfare. Laterally, the buildings were crowded together, until the + upper floors were pushed out on timber brackets for light and air. + Galleries, stairs and jutting windows were added to outer walls, and the + mansions climbed, story above story, until the Cowgate was an undercut + canon, such as is worn through rock by the rivers of western America. + Lairds and leddies, powdered, jeweled and satin-shod, were borne in sedan + chairs down ten flights of stone stairs and through torch-lit courts and + tunnel streets, to routs in Castle or Palace and to tourneys in the + Grassmarket. + </p> + <p> + From its low situation the Cowgate came in the course of time to smell to + heaven, and out of it was a sudden exodus of grand folk to the northern + hills. The lowest level was given over at once to the poor and to small + trade. The wynds and closes that climbed the southern slope were eagerly + possessed by divines, lawyers and literary men because of their nearness + to the University. Long before Bobby's day the well-to-do had fled from + the Cowgate wynds to the hilltop streets and open squares about the + colleges. A few decent working-men remained in the decaying houses, some + of which were at least three centuries old. But there swarmed in upon, and + submerged them, thousands of criminals, beggars, and the miserably poor + and degraded of many nationalities. Businesses that fatten on misfortune—the + saloon, pawn, old clothes and cheap food shops-lined the squalid Cowgate. + Palaces were cut up into honeycombs of tall tenements. Every stair was a + crowded highway; every passage a place of deposit for filth; almost every + room sheltered a half famished family, in darkness and ancient dirt. Grand + and great, pious and wise, decent, wretched and terrible folk, of every + sort, had preceded Auld Jock to his lodging in a steep and narrow wynd, + and nine gusty flights up under a beautiful, old Gothic gable. + </p> + <p> + A wrought-iron lantern hanging in an arched opening, lighted the entrance + to the wynd. With a hand outstretched to either wall, Auld Jock felt his + way up. Another lantern marked a sculptured doorway that gave to the foul + court of the tenement. No sky could be seen above the open well of the + court, and the carved, oaken banister of the stairs had to be felt for and + clung to by one so short of breath. On the seventh landing, from the + exertion of the long climb, Auld Jock was shaken into helplessness, and + his heart set to pounding, by a violent fit of coughing. Overhead a + shutter was slammed back, and an angry voice bade him stop “deaving folk.” + </p> + <p> + The last two flights ascended within the walls. The old man stumbled into + the pitch-black, stifling passage and sat down on the lowest step to rest. + On the landing above he must encounter the auld wifie of a landlady, + rousing her, it might be, and none too good-tempered, from sleep. Unaware + that he added to his master's difficulties, Bobby leaped upon him and + licked the beloved face that he could not see. + </p> + <p> + “Eh, laddie, I dinna ken what to do wi' ye. We maun juist hae to sleep + oot.” It did not occur to Auld Jock that he could abandon the little dog. + And then there drifted across his memory a bit of Mr. Traill's talk that, + at the time, had seemed to no purpose: “Sir Walter happed the wee lassie + in the pocket of his plaid—” He slapped his knee in silent triumph. + In the dark he found the broad, open end of the plaid, and the rough, + excited head of the little dog. + </p> + <p> + “A hap, an' a stap, an' a loup, an' in ye gang. Loup in, laddie.” + </p> + <p> + Bobby jumped into the pocket and turned 'round and 'round. His little + muzzle opened for a delighted bark at this original play, but Auld Jock + checked him. + </p> + <p> + “Cuddle doon noo, an' lie canny as pussy.” With a deft turn he brought the + weighted end of the plaid up under his arm so there would be no betraying + drag. “We'll pu' the wool ower the auld wifie's een,” he chuckled. + </p> + <p> + He mounted the stairs almost blithely, and knocked on one of the three + narrow doors that opened on the two-by-eight landing. It was opened a few + inches, on a chain, and a sordid old face, framed in straggling gray locks + and a dirty mutch cap, peered suspiciously at him through the crevice. + </p> + <p> + Auld Jock had his money in hand—a shilling and a sixpence—to + pay for a week's lodging. He had slept in this place for several winters, + and the old woman knew him well, but she held his coins to the candle and + bit them with her teeth to test them. Without a word of greeting she + shoved the key to the sleeping-closet he had always fancied, through the + crack in the door, and pointed to a jug of water at the foot of the attic + stairs. On the proffer of a halfpenny she gave him a tallow candle, + lighted it at her own and fitted it into the neck of a beer bottle. + </p> + <p> + “Ye hae a cauld.” she said at last, with some hostility. “Gin ye wauken + yer neebors yell juist hae to fecht it oot wi' 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, I ken a' that,” Auld Jock answered. He smothered a cough in his chest + with such effort that it threw him into a perspiration. In some way, with + the jug of water and the lighted candle in his hands and the hidden + terrier under one arm, the old man mounted the eighteen-inch wide, + walled-in attic stairs and unlocked the first of a number of narrow doors + on the passage at the top. + </p> + <p> + “Weel aboon the fou' smell,” indeed; “weel worth the lang climb!” Around + the loose frames of two wee southward-looking dormer windows, that jutted + from the slope of the gable, came a gush of rain-washed air. Auld Jock + tumbled Bobby, warm and happy and “nane the wiser,” out into the cold cell + of a room that was oh, so very, very different from the high, warm, richly + colored library of Sir Walter! This garret closet in the slums of + Edinburgh was all of cut stone, except for the worn, oaken floor, a + flimsy, modern door, and a thin, board partition on one side through which + a “neebor” could be heard snoring. Filling all of the outer wall between + the peephole, leaded windows and running-up to the slope of the ceiling, + was a great fireplace of native white freestone, carved into fluted + columns, foliated capitals, and a flat pediment of purest classic lines. + The ballroom of a noble of Queen Mary's day had been cut up into numerous + small sleeping closets, many of them windowless, and were let to the + chance lodger at threepence the night. Here, where generations of dancing + toes had been warmed, the chimney vent was bricked up, and a boxed-in + shelf fitted, to serve for a bed, a seat and a table, for such as had + neither time nor heart for dancing. For the romantic history and the + beauty of it, Auld Jock had no mind at all. But, ah! he had other joy + often missed by the more fortunate. + </p> + <p> + “Be canny, Bobby,” he cautioned again. + </p> + <p> + The sagacious little dog understood, and pattered about the place + silently. Exhausting it in a moment, and very plainly puzzled and bored, + he sat on his haunches, yawned wide, and looked up inquiringly to his + master. Auld Jock set the jug and the candle on the floor and slipped off + his boots. He had no wish to “wauken 'is neebors.” With nervous haste he + threw back one of the windows on its hinges, reached across the wide stone + ledge and brought in-wonder of wonders, in such a place a tiny earthen pot + of heather! + </p> + <p> + “Is it no' a bonny posie?” he whispered to Bobby. With this cherished bit + of the country that he had left behind him the April before in his hands, + he sat down in the fireplace bed and lifted Bobby beside him. He sniffed + at the red tuft of purple bloom fondly, and his old face blossomed into + smiles. It was the secret thought of this, and of the hillward outlook + from the little windows, that had ironed the lines from his face in Mr. + Traill's dining-room. Bobby sniffed at the starved plant, too, and wagged + his tail with pleasure, for a dog's keenest memories are recorded by the + nose. + </p> + <p> + Overhead, loose tiles and finials rattled in the wind, that was dying away + in fitful gusts; but Auld Jock heard nothing. In fancy he was away on the + braes, in the shy sun and wild wet of April weather. Shepherds were + shouting, sheepdogs barking, ewes bleating, and a wee puppy, still + unnamed, scampering at his heels in the swift, dramatic days of lambing + time. And so, presently, when the forlorn hope of the little pot had been + restored to the ledge, master and dog were in tune with the open country, + and began a romp such as they often had indulged in behind the byre on a + quiet, Sabbath afternoon. + </p> + <p> + They had learned to play there like two well-brought-up children, in + pantomime, so as not to scandalize pious countryfolk. Now, in obedience to + a gesture, a nod, a lifted eyebrow, Bobby went through all his pretty + tricks, and showed how far his serious education had progressed.. He + rolled over and over, begged, vaulted the low hurdle of his master's arm, + and played “deid.” He scampered madly over imaginary pastures; ran, + straight as a string, along a stone wall; scrambled under a thorny hedge; + chased rabbits, and dug foxes out of holes; swam a burn, flushed feeding + curlews, and “froze” beside a rat-hole. When the excitement was at its + height and the little dog was bursting with exuberance, Auld Jock forgot + his caution. Holding his bonnet just out of reach, he cried aloud: + </p> + <p> + “Loup, Bobby!” + </p> + <p> + Bobby jumped for the bonnet, missed it, jumped again and barked-the + high-pitched, penetrating yelp of the terrier. + </p> + <p> + Instantly their little house of joy tumbled about their ears. There was a + pounding on the thin partition wall, an oath and a shout “Whaur's the deil + o' a dog?” Bobby flew at the insulting clamor, but Auld Jock dragged him + back roughly. In a voice made harsh by fear for his little pet, he + commanded: + </p> + <p> + “Haud yer gab or they'll hae ye oot.” + </p> + <p> + Bobby dropped like a shot, cringing at Auld Jock's feet. The most + sensitive of four-footed creatures in the world, the Skye terrier is + utterly abased by a rebuke from his master. The whole garret was soon in + an uproar of vile accusation and shrill denial that spread from cell to + cell. + </p> + <p> + Auld Jock glowered down at Bobby with frightened eyes. In the winters he + had lodged there he had lived unmolested only because he had managed to + escape notice. Timid old country body that he was, he could not “fecht it + oot” with the thieves and beggars and drunkards of the Cowgate. By and by + the brawling died down. In the double row of little dens this one alone + was silent, and the offending dog was not located. + </p> + <p> + But when the danger was past, Auld Jock's heart was pounding in his chest. + His legs gave way under him, when he got up to fetch the candle from near + the door and set it on a projecting brick in the fireplace. By its light + he began to read in a small pocket Bible the Psalm that had always + fascinated him because he had never been able to understand it. + </p> + <p> + “The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.” + </p> + <p> + So far it was plain and comforting. “He maketh me to lie down in green + pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters.” + </p> + <p> + Nae, the pastures were brown, or purple and yellow with heather and gorse. + Rocks cropped out everywhere, and the peaty tarps were mostly bleak and + frozen. The broad Firth was ever ebbing and flowing with the restless sea, + and the burns bickering down the glens. The minister of the little hill + kirk had said once that in England the pastures were green and the lakes + still and bright; but that was a fey, foreign country to which Auld Jock + had no desire to go. He wondered, wistfully, if he would feel at home in + God's heaven, and if there would be room in that lush silence for a noisy + little dog, as there was on the rough Pentland braes. And there his + thoughts came back to this cold prison cell in which he could not defend + the right of his one faithful little friend to live. He stooped and lifted + Bobby into the bed. Humble, and eager to be forgiven for an offense he + could not understand, the loving little creature leaped to Auld Jock's + arms and lavished frantic endearments upon him. + </p> + <p> + Lying so together in the dark, man and dog fell into a sleep that was + broken by Auld Jock's fitful coughing and the abuse of his neighbors. It + was not until the wind had long died to a muffled murmur at the casements, + and every other lodger was out, that Auld Jock slept soundly. He awoke + late to find Bobby waiting patiently on the floor and the bare cell + flooded with white glory. That could mean but one thing. He stumbled + dizzily to his feet and threw a sash aback. Over the huddle of high + housetops, the University towers and the scattered suburbs beyond, he + looked away to the snow-clad slopes of the Pentlands, running up to heaven + and shining under the pale winter sunshine. + </p> + <p> + “The snaw! Eh, Bobby, but it's a bonny sicht to auld een!” he cried, with + the simple delight of a child. He stooped to lift Bobby to the wonder of + it, when the world suddenly went black and roaring around in his head. + Staggering back he crumpled up in a pitiful heap on the floor. + </p> + <p> + Bobby licked his master's face and hands, and then sat quietly down beside + him. So many strange, uncanny things had happened within the last + twenty-four hours that the little dog was rapidly outgrowing his + irresponsible puppyhood. After a long time Auld Jock opened his eyes and + sat up. Bobby put his paws on his master's knees in anxious sympathy. + Before the man had got his wits about him the time-gun boomed from the + Castle. Panic-stricken that he should have slept in his bed so late, and + then lain senseless on the floor for he knew not how long, Auld Jock got + up and struggled into his greatcoat, bonnet and plaid. In feeling for his + woolen mittens he discovered the buns that Mr. Trail had dropped into his + pocket for Bobby. + </p> + <p> + The old man stared and stared at them in piteous dismay. Mr. Traill had + believed him to be so ill that he “wouldna be oot the morn.” It was a + staggering thought. + </p> + <p> + The bells of St. Giles broke into “Over the Hills and Far Away.” The + melody came to Auld Jock clearly, unbroken by echoes, for the garret was + on a level with the cathedral's crown on High Street. It brought to him + again a vision of the Midlothian slopes, but it reminded Bobby that it was + dinner-time. He told Auld Jock so by running to the door and back and + begging him, by every pretty wile at his command, to go. The old man got + to his feet and then fell back, pale and shaken, his heart hammering + again. Bobby ate the bun soberly and then sat up against Auld Jock's feet, + that dangled helplessly from the bed. The bells died away from the man's + ears before they had ceased playing. Both the church and the University + bells struck the hour of two then three then four. Daylight had begun to + fail when Auld Jock stirred, sat up, and did a strange thing: taking from + his pocket a leather bag-purse that was closed by a draw-string, he + counted the few crowns and shillings in it and the many smaller silver and + copper coins. + </p> + <p> + “There's eneugh,” he said. There was enough, by careful spending, to pay + for food and lodging for a few weeks, to save himself from the charity of + the infirmary. By this act he admitted the humiliating and fearful fact + that he was very ill. The precious little hoard must be hidden from the + chance prowler. He looked for a loose brick in the fireplace, but before + he found one, he forgot all about it, and absent-mindedly heaped the coins + in a little pile on the open Bible at the back of the bed. + </p> + <p> + For a long time Auld Jock sat there with his head in his hands before he + again slipped back to his pillow. Darkness stole into the quiet room. The + lodgers returned to their dens one after one, tramping or slipping or + hobbling up the stairs and along the passage. Bobby bristled and froze, on + guard, when a stealthy hand tried the latch. Then there were sounds of + fighting, of crying women, and the long, low wailing of-wretched children. + The evening drum and bugle were heard from the Castle, and hour after hour + was struck from the clock of St. Giles while Bobby watched beside his + master. + </p> + <p> + All night Auld Jock was “aff 'is heid.” When he muttered in his sleep or + cried out in the delirium of fever, the little dog put his paws upon the + bed-rail. He scratched on it and begged to be lifted to where he could + comfort his master, for the shelf was set too high for him to climb into + the bed. Unable to get his master's attention, he licked the hot hand that + hung over the side. Auld Jock lay still at last, not coughing any more, + but breathing rapid, shallow breaths. Just at dawn he turned his head and + gazed in bewilderment at the alert and troubled little creature that was + instantly upon the rail. After a long time he recognized the dog and + patted the shaggy little head. Feeling around the bed, he found the other + bun and dropped it on the floor. Presently he said, between strangled + breaths: + </p> + <p> + “Puir—Bobby! Gang—awa'—hame—laddie.” + </p> + <p> + After that it was suddenly very still in the brightening room. Bobby gazed + and gazed at his master—one long, heartbroken look, then dropped to + all fours and stood trembling. Without another look he stretched himself + upon the hearthstone below the bed. + </p> + <p> + Morning and evening footsteps went down and came up on the stairs. + Throughout the day—the babel of crowded tenement strife; the crying + of fishwives and fagot-venders in the court; the striking of the hours; + the boom of the time gun and sweet clamor of music bells; the failing of + the light and the soaring note of the bugle—he watched motionless + beside his master. + </p> + <p> + Very late at night shuffling footsteps came up the stairs. The “auld + wifie” kept a sharp eye on the comings and goings of her lodgers. It was + “no' canny” that this old man, with a cauld in his chest, had gone up full + two days before and had not come down again. To bitter complaints of his + coughing and of his strange talking to himself she gave scant attention, + but foul play was done often enough in these dens to make her uneasy. She + had no desire to have the Burgh police coming about and interfering with + her business. She knocked sharply on the door and called: + </p> + <p> + “Auld Jock!” + </p> + <p> + Bobby trotted over to the door and stood looking at it. In such a strait + he would naturally have welcomed the visitor, scratching on the panel, and + crying to any human body without to come in and see what had befallen his + master. But Auld Jock had bade him “haud 'is gab” there, as in Greyfriars + kirkyard. So he held to loyal silence, although the knocking and shaking + of the latch was insistent and the lodgers were astir. The voice of the + old woman was shrill with alarm. + </p> + <p> + “Auld Jock, can ye no' wauken?” And, after a moment, in which the + unlatched casement window within could be heard creaking on its hinges in + the chill breeze, there was a hushed and frightened question: + </p> + <p> + “Are ye deid?” + </p> + <p> + The footsteps fled down the stairs, and Bobby was left to watch through + the long hours of darkness. + </p> + <p> + Very early in the morning the flimsy door was quietly forced by authority. + The first man who entered—an officer of the Crown from the sheriff's + court on the bridge—took off his hat to the majesty that dominated + that bare cell. The Cowgate region presented many a startling contrast, + but such a one as this must seldom have been seen. The classic fireplace, + and the motionless figure and peaceful face of the pious old shepherd + within it, had the dignity and beauty of some monumental tomb and carved + effigy in old Greyfriars kirkyard. Only less strange was the contrast + between the marks of poverty and toil on the dead man and the dainty grace + of the little fluff of a dog that mourned him. + </p> + <p> + No such men as these—officers of her Majesty the Queen, Burgh + policemen, and learned doctors from the Royal Infirmary—had ever + been aware of Auld Jock, living. Dead, and no' needing them any more, they + stood guard over him, and inquired sternly as to the manner in which he + had died. There was a hysterical breath of relief from the crowd of + lodgers and tenants when the little pile of coins was found on the Bible. + There had been no foul play. Auld Jock had died of heart failure, from + pneumonia and worn-out old age. + </p> + <p> + “There's eneugh,” a Burgh policeman said when the money was counted. He + meant much the same thing Auld Jock himself had meant. There was enough to + save him from the last indignity a life of useful labor can thrust upon + the honest poor—pauper burial. But when inquiries were made for the + name and the friends of this old man there appeared to be only “Auld Jock” + to enter into the record, and a little dog to follow the body to the + grave. It was a Bible reader who chanced to come in from the Medical + Mission in the Cowgate who thought to look in the fly-leaf of Auld Jock's + Bible. + </p> + <p> + “His name is John Gray.” + </p> + <p> + He laid the worn little book on Auld Jock's breast and crossed the + work-scarred hands upon it. “It's something by the ordinar' to find a gude + auld country body in such a foul place.” He stooped and patted Bobby, and + noted the bun, untouched, upon the floor. Turning to a wild elf of a + barefooted child in the crowd he spoke to her. “Would you share your gude + brose with the bit dog, lassie?” + </p> + <p> + She darted down the stairs, and presently returned with her own scanty + bowl of breakfast porridge. Bobby refused the food, but he looked at her + so mournfully that the first tears of pity her unchildlike eyes had ever + shed welled up. She put out her hand timidly and stroked him. + </p> + <p> + It was just before the report of the time-gun that two policemen cleared + the stairs, shrouded Auld Jock in his own greatcoat and plaid, and carried + him down to the court. There they laid him in a plain box of white deal + that stood on the pavement, closed it, and went away down the wynd on a + necessary errand. The Bible-reader sat on an empty beer keg to guard the + box, and Bobby climbed on the top and stretched himself above his master. + The court was a well, more than a hundred feet deep. What sky might have + been visible above it was hidden by tier above tier of dingy, tattered + washings. The stairway filled again, and throngs of outcasts of every sort + went about their squalid businesses, with only a curious glance or so at + the pathetic group. + </p> + <p> + Presently the policemen returned from the Cowgate with a motley assortment + of pallbearers. There was a good-tempered Irish laborer from a near-by + brewery; a decayed gentleman, unsteady of gait and blear-eyed, in greasy + frock-coat and broken hat; a flashily dressed bartender who found the task + distasteful; a stout, bent-backed fagot-carrier; a drunken fisherman from + New Haven, suddenly sobered by this uncanny duty, and a furtive, + gaol-bleached thief who feared a trap and tried to escape. + </p> + <p> + Tailed by scuffling gamins, the strange little procession moved quickly + down the wynd and turned into the roaring Cowgate. The policemen went + before to force a passage through the press. The Bible-reader followed the + box, and Bobby, head and tail down, trotted unnoticed, beneath it. The + humble funeral train passed under a bridge arch into the empty + Grassmarket, and went up Candlemakers Row to the kirkyard gate. Such as + Auld Jock, now, by unnumbered thousands, were coming to lie among the + grand and great, laird and leddy, poet and prophet, persecutor and martyr, + in the piled-up, historic burying-ground of old Greyfriars. + </p> + <p> + By a gesture the caretaker directed the bearers to the right, past the + church, and on down the crowded slope to the north, that was circled about + by the backs of the tenements in the Grassmarket and Candlemakers Row. The + box was lowered at once, and the pall-bearers hastily departed to delayed + dinners. The policemen had urgent duties elsewhere. Only the Bible reader + remained to see the grave partly filled in, and to try to persuade Bobby + to go away with him. But the little dog resisted with such piteous + struggles that the man put him down again. The grave digger leaned on his + spade for a bit of professional talk. + </p> + <p> + “Many a dog gangs daft an' greets like a human body when his maister dees. + They're aye put oot, a time or twa, an' they gang to folic that ken them, + an' syne they tak' to ithers. Dinna fash yersel' aboot 'im. He wullna + greet lang.” + </p> + <p> + Since Bobby would not go, there was nothing to do but leave him there; but + it was with many a backward look and disturbing doubt that the good man + turned away. The grave-digger finished his task cheerfully, shouldered his + tools, and left the kirkyard. The early dark was coming on when the + caretaker, in making his last rounds, found the little terrier flattened + out on the new-made mound. + </p> + <p> + “Gang awa' oot!” he ordered. Bobby looked up pleadingly and trembled, but + he made no motion to obey. James Brown was not an unfeeling man, and he + was but doing his duty. From an impulse of pity for this bonny wee bit of + loyalty and grief he picked Bobby up, carried him all the way to the gate + and set him over the wicket on the pavement. + </p> + <p> + “Gang awa' hame, noo,” he said, kindly. “A kirkya'rd isna a place for a + bit dog to be leevin'.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +Bobby lay where he had been dropped until the caretaker was out of +sight. Then, finding the aperture under the gate too small for him +to squeeze through, he tried, in his ancestral way, to enlarge it by +digging. He scratched and scratched at the unyielding stone until his +little claws were broken and his toes bleeding, before he stopped and +lay down with his nose under the wicket. + + Just before the closing hour a carriage stopped at the +kirkyard gate. A black-robed lady, carrying flowers, hurried through the +wicket. Bobby slipped in behind her and disappeared. +</pre> + <p> + After nightfall, when the lamps were lighted on the bridge, when Mr. + Traill had come out to stand idly in his doorway, looking for some one to + talk to, and James Brown had locked the kirkyard yard gate for the night + and gone into his little stone lodge to supper, Bobby came out of hiding + and stretched himself prone across Auld Jock's grave. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. + </h2> + <p> + Fifteen minutes after the report of the time-gun on Monday, when the bells + were playing their merriest and the dining-rooms were busiest, Mr. Traill + felt such a tiny tug at his trouser-leg that it was repeated before he + gave it attention. In the press of hungry guests Bobby had little more + than room to rise in his pretty, begging attitude. The landlord was so + relieved to see him again, after five conscience stricken days, that he + stooped to clap the little dog on the side and to greet him with jocose + approval. + </p> + <p> + “Gude dog to fetch Auld Jock—” + </p> + <p> + With a faint and piteous cry that was heard by no one but Mr. Traill, + Bobby toppled over on the floor. It was a limp little bundle that the + landlord picked up from under foot and held on his arm a moment, while he + looked around for the dog's master. Shocked at not seeing Auld Jock, by a + kind of inspiration he carried the little dog to the inglenook and laid + him down under the familiar settle. Bobby was little more than breathing, + but he opened his silkily veiled brown eyes and licked the friendly hand + that had done this refinement of kindness. It took Mr. Traill more than a + moment to realize the nature of the trouble. A dog with so thick a fleece + of wool, under so crisply waving an outer coat as Bobby's, may perish for + lack of food and show no outward sign of emaciation. + </p> + <p> + “The sonsie, wee—why, he's all but starved!” + </p> + <p> + Pale with pity, Mr. Traill snatched a plate of broth from the hands of a + gaping waiter laddie, set it under Bobby's nose, and watched him begin to + lap the warm liquid eagerly. In the busy place the incident passed + unnoticed. With his usual, brisk decision Mr. Traill turned the backs of a + couple of chairs over against the nearest table, to signify that the + corner was reserved, and he went about his duties with unwonted silence. + As the crowd thinned he returned to the inglenook to find Bobby asleep, + not curled up in a tousled ball, as such a little dog should be, but + stretched on his side and breathing irregularly. + </p> + <p> + If Bobby was in such straits, how must it be with Auld Jock? This was the + fifth day since the sick old man had fled into the storm. With new + disquiet Mr. Traill remembered a matter that had annoyed him in the + morning, and that he had been inclined to charge to mischievous Heriot + boys. Low down on the outside of his freshly varnished entrance door were + many scratches that Bobby could have made. He may have come for food on + the Sabbath day when the place was closed. + </p> + <p> + After an hour Bobby woke long enough to eat a generous plate of that + delectable and highly nourishing Scotch dish known as haggis. He fell + asleep again in an easier attitude that relieved the tension on the + landlord's feelings. Confident that the devoted little dog would lead him + straight to his master, Mr. Traill closed the door securely, that he might + not escape unnoticed, and arranged his own worldly affairs so he could + leave them to hirelings on the instant. In the idle time between dinner + and supper he sat down by the fire, lighted his pipe, repented his unruly + tongue, and waited. As the short day darkened to its close the sunset + bugle was blown in the Castle. At the first note, Bobby crept from under + the settle, a little unsteady on his legs as yet, wagged his tail for + thanks, and trotted to the door. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Traill had no trouble at all in keeping the little dog in sight to the + kirkyard gate, for in the dusk his coat shone silvery white. Indeed, by a + backward look now and then, Bobby seemed to invite the man to follow, and + waited at the gate, with some impatience, for him to come up. Help was + needed there. By rising and tugging at Mr. Traill's clothing and then + jumping on the wicket Bobby plainly begged to have it opened. He made no + noise, neither barking nor whimpering, and that was very strange for a dog + of the terrier breed; but each instant of delay he became more insistent, + and even frantic, to have the gate unlatched. Mr. Traill refused to + believe what Bobby's behavior indicated, and reproved him in the broad + Scotch to which the country dog was used. + </p> + <p> + “Nae, Bobby; be a gude dog. Gang doon to the Coogate noo, an' find Auld + Jock.” + </p> + <p> + Uttering no cry at all, Bobby gave the man such a woebegone look and + dropped to the pavement, with his long muzzle as far under the wicket as + he could thrust it, that the truth shot home to Mr. Traill's + understanding. He opened the gate. Bobby slipped through and stood just + inside a moment, and looking back as if he expected his human friend to + follow. Then, very suddenly, as the door of the lodge opened and the + caretaker came out, Bobby disappeared in the shadow of the church. + </p> + <p> + A big-boned, slow-moving man of the best country house-gardener type, + serviceably dressed in corduroy, wool bonnet, and ribbed stockings, James + Brown collided with the small and wiry landlord, to his own very great + embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + “Eh, Maister Traill, ye gied me a turn. It's no' canny to be proolin' + aboot the kirkyaird i' the gloamin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Whaur did the bit dog go, man?” demanded the peremptory landlord. + </p> + <p> + “Dog? There's no' ony dog i' the kirkyaird. It isna permeetted. Gin it's a + pussy ye're needin', noo—” + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Traill brushed this irrelevant pleasantry aside. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, there's a dog. I let him in my ainsel'.” + </p> + <p> + The caretaker exploded with wrath: “Syne I'll hae the law on ye. Can ye + no' read, man?” + </p> + <p> + “Tut, tut, Jeemes Brown. Don't stand there arguing. It's a gude and + necessary regulation, but it's no' the law o' the land. I turned the dog + in to settle a matter with my ain conscience, and John Knox would have + done the same thing in the bonny face o' Queen Mary. What it is, is nae + beesiness of yours. The dog was a sma' young terrier of the Highland + breed, but with a drop to his ears and a crinkle in his frosty coat—no' + just an ordinar' dog. I know him weel. He came to my place to be fed, near + dead of hunger, then led me here. If his master lies in this kirkyard, + I'll tak' the bit dog awa' with me.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Traill's astonishing fluency always carried all walls of resistance + before it with men of slower wit and speech. Only a superior man could + brush time-honored rules aside so curtly and stand on his human rights so + surely. James Brown pulled his bonnet off deferentially, scratched his + shock head and shifted his pipe. Finally he admitted: + </p> + <p> + “Weel, there was a bit tyke i' the kirkyaird twa days syne. I put 'im oot, + an' haena seen 'im aboot ony main” He offered, however, to show the + new-made mound on which he had found the dog. Leading the way past the + church, he went on down the terraced slope, prolonging the walk with + conversation, for the guardianship of an old churchyard offers very little + such lively company as John Traill's. + </p> + <p> + “I mind, noo, it was some puir body frae the Coogate, wi' no' ony mourners + but the sma' terrier aneath the coffin. I let 'im pass, no' to mak' a + disturbance at a buryin'. The deal box was fetched up by the police, an' + carried by sic a crew o' gaol-birds as wad mak' ye turn ower in yer ain + God's hole. But he paid for his buryin' wi' his ain siller, an' noo lies + as canny as the nobeelity. Nae boot here's the place, Maister Traill; an' + ye can see for yer ainsel' there's no' any dog.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, that would be Auld Jock and Bobby would no' be leaving him,” insisted + the landlord, stubbornly. He stood looking down at the rough mound of + frozen clods heaped in a little space of trampled snow. + </p> + <p> + “Jeemes Brown,” Mr. Trail said, at last, “the man wha lies here was a + decent, pious auld country body, and I drove him to his meeserable death + in the Cowgate.” + </p> + <p> + “Man, ye dinna ken what ye're sayin'!” was the shocked response. + </p> + <p> + “Do I no'? I'm canny, by the ordinar', but my fule tongue will get me into + trouble with the magistrates one of these days. It aye wags at both ends, + and is no' tied in the middle.” + </p> + <p> + Then, stanch Calvinist that he was, and never dreaming that he was + indulging in the sinful pleasure of confession, Mr. Traill poured out the + story of Auld Jock's plight and of his own shortcomings. It was a bitter, + upbraiding thing that he, an uncommonly capable man, had meant so well by + a humble old body, and done so ill. And he had failed again when he tried + to undo the mischief. The very next morning he had gone down into the + perilous Cowgate, and inquired in every place where it might be possible + for such a timid old shepherd to be known. But there! As well look for a + burr thistle in a bin of oats, as look for a human atom in the Cowgate and + the wynds “juist aff.” + </p> + <p> + “Weel, noo, ye couldna hae dune aething wi' the auld body, ava, gin he + wouldna gang to the infairmary.” The caretaker was trying to console the + self-accusing man. + </p> + <p> + “Could I no'? Ye dinna ken me as weel as ye micht.” The disgusted landlord + tumbled into broad Scotch. “Gie me to do it ance mair, an' I'd chairge + Auld Jock wi' thievin' ma siller, wi' a wink o' the ee at the police to + mak' them ken I was leein'; an' syne they'd hae hustled 'im aff, + willy-nilly, to a snug bed.” + </p> + <p> + The energetic little man looked so entirely capable of any daring deed + that he fired the caretaker into enthusiastic search for Bobby. It was not + entirely dark, for the sky was studded with stars, snow lay in broad + patches on the slope, and all about the lower end of the kirkyard supper + candles burned at every rear window of the tall tenements. + </p> + <p> + The two men searched among the near-by slabs and table-tombs and scattered + thorn bushes. They circled the monument to all the martyrs who had died + heroically, in the Grassmarket and elsewhere, for their faith. They hunted + in the deep shadows of the buttresses along the side of the auld kirk and + among the pillars of the octagonal portico to the new. At the rear of the + long, low building, that was clumsily partitioned across for two pulpits, + stood the ornate tomb of “Bluidy” McKenzie. But Bobby had not committed + himself to the mercy of the hanging judge, nor yet to the care of the + doughty minister, who, from the pulpit of Greyfriars auld kirk, had flung + the blood and tear stained Covenant in the teeth of persecution. + </p> + <p> + The search was continued past the modest Scott family burial plot and on + to the west wall. There was a broad outlook over Heriot's Hospital + grounds, a smooth and shining expanse of unsullied snow about the early + Elizabethan pile of buildings. Returning, they skirted the lowest wall + below the tenements, for in the circling line of courtyarded vaults, where + the “nobeelity” of Scotland lay haughtily apart under timestained marbles, + were many shadowy nooks in which so small a dog could stow himself away. + Skulking cats were flushed there, and sent flying over aristocratic bones, + but there was no trace of Bobby. + </p> + <p> + The second tier of windows of the tenements was level with the kirkyard + wall, and several times Mr. Traill called up to a lighted casement where a + family sat at a scant supper. + </p> + <p> + “Have you seen a bit dog, man?” + </p> + <p> + There was much cordial interest in his quest, windows opening and faces + staring into the dusk; but not until near the top of the Row was a clue + gained. Then, at the query, an unkempt, illclad lassie slipped from her + stool and leaned out over the pediment of a tomb. She had seen a “wee, wee + doggie jinkin' amang the stanes.” It was on the Sabbath evening, when the + well-dressed folk had gone home from the afternoon services. She was + eating her porridge at the window, “by her lane,” when he “keeked up at + her so knowing, and begged so bonny,” that she balanced her bit bowl on a + lath, and pushed it over on the kirkyard wall. As she finished the story + the big, blue eyes of the little maid, who doubtless had herself known + what it was to be hungry, filled with tears. + </p> + <p> + “The wee tyke couldna loup up to it, an' a deil o' a pussy got it a'. He + was so bonny, like a leddy's pet, an' syne he fell ower on the snaw an' + creepit awa'. He didna cry oot, but he was a' but deid wi' hunger.” At the + memory of it soft-hearted Ailie Lindsey sobbed on her mother's shoulder. + </p> + <p> + The tale was retold from one excited window to another, all the way around + and all the way up to the gables, so quickly could some incident of human + interest make a social gathering in the populous tenements. Most of all, + the children seized upon the touching story. Eager and pinched little + faces peered wistfully into the melancholy kirkyard. + </p> + <p> + “Is he yer ain dog?” crippled Tammy Barr piped out, in his thin treble. + “Gin I had a bonny wee dog I'd gie 'im ma ain brose, an' cuddle 'im, an' + he couldna gang awa'.” + </p> + <p> + “Nae, laddie, he's no' my dog. His master lies buried here, and the leal + Highlander mourns for him.” With keener appreciation of its pathos, Mr. + Traill recalled that this was what Auld Jock had said: “Bobby isna ma ain + dog.” And he was conscious of wishing that Bobby was his own, with his + unpurchasable love and a loyalty to face starvation. As he mounted the + turfed terraces he thought to call back: + </p> + <p> + “If you see him again, lassie, call him 'Bobby,' and fetch him up to + Greyfriars Dining-Rooms. I have a bright siller shulling, with the Queen's + bonny face on it, to give the bairn that finds Bobby.” + </p> + <p> + There was excited comment on this. He must, indeed, be an attractive dog + to be worth a shilling. The children generously shared plans for capturing + Bobby. But presently the windows were closed, and supper was resumed. The + caretaker was irritable. + </p> + <p> + “Noo, ye'll hae them a' oot swarmin' ower the kirkyaird. There's nae + coontin' the bairns o' the neeborhood, an' nane o' them are so weel + broucht up as they micht be.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Traill commented upon this philosophically: “A bairn is like a dog in + mony ways. Tak' a stick to one or the other and he'll misbehave. The + children here are poor and neglected, but they're no' vicious like the + awfu' imps of the Cowgate, wha'd steal from their blind grandmithers. Get + on the gude side of the bairns, man, and you'll live easier and die + happier.” + </p> + <p> + It seemed useless to search the much longer arm of the kirkyard that ran + southward behind the shops of Greyfriars Place and Forest Road. If Bobby + was in the enclosure at all he would not be far from Auld Jock's grave. + Nearest the new-made mound were two very old and dark table-tombs. The + farther one lay horizontally, on its upright “through stanes,” some + distance above the earth. The supports of the other had fallen, and the + table lay on their thickness within six inches of the ground. Mr. Traill + and the caretaker sat upon this slab, which testified to the piety and + worth of one Mistress Jean Grant, who had died “lang syne.” + </p> + <p> + Encroached upon, as it was, by unlovely life, Greyfriars kirkyard was yet + a place of solitude and peace. The building had the dignity that only old + age can give. It had lost its tower by an explosion of gunpowder stored + there in war time, and its walls and many of the ancient tombs bore the + marks of fire and shot. Within the last decade some of the Gothic openings + had been filled with beautiful memorial windows. Despite the horrors and + absurdities and mutilation of much of the funeral sculpturing, the + kirkyard had a sad distinction, such as became its fame as Scotland's + Westminster. And, there was one heavenward outlook and heavenly view. Over + the tallest decaying tenement one could look up to the Castle of dreams on + the crag, and drop the glance all the way down the pinnacled crest of High + Street, to the dark and deserted Palace of Holyrood. After nightfall the + turreted heights wore a luminous crown, and the steep ridge up to it + twinkled with myriad lights. After a time the caretaker offered a + well-considered opinion. + </p> + <p> + “The dog maun hae left the kirkyaird. Thae terriers are aye barkin'. It'd + be maist michty noo, gin he'd be so lang i' the kirkyaird, an' no' mak' a + blatterin'.” + </p> + <p> + As a man of superior knowledge Mr. Traill found pleasure in upsetting this + theory. “The Highland breed are no' like ordinar' terriers. Noisy enough + to deave one, by nature, give a bit Skye a reason and he'll lie a' the day + under a whin bush on the brae, as canny as a fox. You gave Bobby a reason + for hiding here by turning him out. And Auld Jock was a vera releegious + man. It would no' be surprising if he taught Bobby to hold his tongue in a + kirkyard.” + </p> + <p> + “Man, he did that vera thing.” James Brown brought his fist down on his + knee; for suddenly he identified Bobby as the snappy little ruffian that + had chased the cat and bitten his shins, and Auld Jock as the scandalized + shepherd who had rebuked the dog so bitterly. He related the incident with + gusto. + </p> + <p> + “The auld man cried oot on the misbehavin' tyke to haud 'is gab. Syne, ye + ne'er saw the bit dog's like for a bairn that'd haen a lickin'. He'd 'a' + gaen into a pit, gin there'd been ane, an' pu'd it in ahind 'im. I turned + 'em baith oot, an' told 'em no' to come back. Eh, man, it's fearsome hoo + ilka body comes to a kirkyaird, toes afore 'im, in a long box.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Brown was sobered by this grim thought and then, in his turn, he + confessed a slip to this tolerant man of the world. “The wee deil o' a + sperity dog nipped me so I let oot an aith.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, that's Bobby. He would no' be afraid of onything with hide or hair on + it. Man, the Skye terriers go into dens of foxes and wildcats, and worry + bulls till they tak' to their heels. And Bobby's sagacious by the + ordinar'.” He thought intently for a moment, and then spoke naturally, and + much as Auld Jock himself might have spoken to the dog. + </p> + <p> + “Whaur are ye, Bobby? Come awa' oot, laddie!” + </p> + <p> + Instantly the little dog stood before him like some conjured ghost. He had + slipped from under the slab on which they were sitting. It lay so near the + ground, and in such a mat of dead grass, that it had not occurred to them + to look for him there. He came up to Mr. Traill confidently, submitted to + having his head patted, and looked pleadingly at the caretaker. Then, + thinking he had permission to do so, he lay down on the mound. James Brown + dropped his pipe. + </p> + <p> + “It's maist michty!” he said. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Traill got to his feet briskly. “I'll just tak' the dog with me, Mr. + Brown. On marketday I'll find the farmer that owns him and send him hame. + As you say, a kirkyard's nae place for a dog to be living neglected. Come + awa', Bobby.” + </p> + <p> + Bobby looked up, but, as he made no motion to obey, Mr. Traill stooped and + lifted him. + </p> + <p> + From sheer surprise at this unexpected move the little dog lay still a + moment on the man's arm. Then, with a lithe twist of his muscular body and + a spring, he was on the ground, trembling, reproachful for the breach of + faith, but braced for resistance. + </p> + <p> + “Eh, you're no' going?” Mr. Traill put his hands in his pockets, looked + down at Bobby admiringly, and sighed. “There's a dog after my ain heart, + and he'll have naething to do with me. He has a mind of his ain. I'll just + have to be leaving him here the two days, Mr. Brown.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye wullna leave 'im! Ye'll tak' 'im wi' ye, or I'll hae to put 'im oot. + Man, I couldna haud the place gin I brak the rules.” + </p> + <p> + “You—will—no'—put—the—wee—dog—out!” + Mr. Traill shook a playful, emphatic finger under the big man's nose. + </p> + <p> + “Why wull I no'?” + </p> + <p> + “Because, man, you have a vera soft heart, and you canna deny it.” It was + with a genial, confident smile that Mr. Traill made this terrible + accusation. + </p> + <p> + “Ma heart's no' so saft as to permit a bit dog to scandalize the deid.” + </p> + <p> + “He's been here two days, you no' knowing it, and he has scandalized + neither the dead nor the living. He's as leal as ony Covenanter here, and + better conducted than mony a laird. He's no the quarrelsome kind, but, + man, for a principle he'd fight like auld Clootie.” Here the landlord's + heat gave way to pure enjoyment of the situation. “Eh, I'd like to see you + put him out. It would be another Flodden Field.” + </p> + <p> + The angry caretaker shrugged his broad shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Ye can see it, gin ye stand by, in juist one meenit. Fecht as he may, it + wull soon be ower.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Traill laughed easily, and ventured the opinion that Mr. Brown's bark + was worse than his bite. As he went through the gateway he could not + resist calling back a challenge: “I daur you to do it.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Brown locked the gate, went sulkily into the lodge, lighted his cutty + pipe, and smoked it furiously. He read a Psalm with deliberation, poked up + an already bright fire, and glowered at his placid gude wife. It was not + to be borne—to be defied by a ten-inch-high terrier, and dared, by a + man a third under his own weight, to do his duty. After an hour or so he + worked himself up to the point of going out and slamming the door. + </p> + <p> + At eight o'clock Mr. Traill found Bobby on the pavement outside the locked + gate. He was not sorry that the fortunes of unequal battle had thrown the + faithful little dog on his hospitality. Bobby begged piteously to be put + inside, but he seemed to understand at last that the gate was too high for + Mr. Traill to drop him over. He followed the landlord up to the restaurant + willingly. He may have thought this champion had another solution of the + difficulty, for when he saw the man settle comfortably in a chair he + refused to lie on the hearth. He ran to the door and back, and begged and + whined to be let out. For a long time he stood dejectedly. He was not + sullen, for he ate a light supper and thanked his host with much polite + wagging, and he even allowed himself to be petted. Suddenly he thought of + something, trotted briskly off to a corner and crouched there. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Traill watched the attractive little creature with interest and + growing affection. Very likely he indulged in a day-dream that, perhaps, + the tenant of Cauldbrae farm could be induced to part with Bobby for a + consideration, and that he himself could win the dog to transfer his love + from a cold grave to a warm hearth. + </p> + <p> + With a spring the rat was captured. A jerk of the long head and there was + proof of Bobby's prowess to lay at his good friend's feet. Made much of, + and in a position to ask fresh favors, the little dog was off to the door + with cheerful, staccato barks. His reasoning was as plain as print: “I hae + done ye a service, noo tak' me back to the kirkyaird.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Traill talked to him as he might have reasoned with a bright bairn. + Bobby listened patiently, but remained of the same mind. At last he moved + away, disappointed in this human person, discouraged, but undefeated in + his purpose. He lay down by the door. Mr. Traill watched him, for if any + chance late comer opened the door the masterless little dog would be out + into the perils of the street. Bobby knew what doors were for and, very + likely, expected some such release. He waited a long time patiently. Then + he began to run back and forth. He put his paws upon Mr. Traill and + whimpered and cried. Finally he howled. + </p> + <p> + It was a dreadful, dismal, heartbroken howl that echoed back from the + walls. He howled continuously, until the landlord, quite distracted, and + concerned about the peace of his neighbors, thrust Bobby into the dark + scullery at the rear, and bade him stop his noise. For fully ten minutes + the dog was quiet. He was probably engaged in exploring his new quarters + to find an outlet. Then he began to howl again. It was truly astonishing + that so small a dog could make so large a noise. + </p> + <p> + A battle was on between the endurance of the man and the persistence of + the terrier. Mr. Traill was speculating on which was likely to be victor + in the contest, when the front door was opened and the proprietor of the + Book Hunter's Stall put in a bare, bald head and the abstracted face of + the book-worm that is mildly amused. + </p> + <p> + “Have you tak'n to a dog at your time o' life, Mr. Traill?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, man, and it would be all right if the bit dog would just tak' to me.” + </p> + <p> + This pleasantry annoyed a good man who had small sense of humor, and he + remarked testily “The barkin' disturbs my customers so they canna read.” + The place was a resort for student laddies who had to be saving of + candles. + </p> + <p> + “That's no' right,” the landlord admitted, sympathetically. “'Reading + mak'th a full man.' Eh, what a deeference to the warld if Robbie Burns had + aye preferred a book to a bottle.” The bookseller refused to be beguiled + from his just cause of complaint into the flowery meads of literary + reminiscences and speculations. + </p> + <p> + “You'll stop that dog's cleaving noise, Mr. Traill, or I'll appeal to the + Burgh police.” + </p> + <p> + The landlord returned a bland and child-like smile. “You'd be weel within + your legal rights to do it, neebor.” + </p> + <p> + The door was shut with such a business-like click that the situation + suddenly became serious. Bobby's vocal powers, however, gave no signs of + diminishing. Mr. Traill quieted the dog for a few moments by letting him + into the outer room, but the swiftness and energy with which he renewed + his attacks on the door and on the man's will showed plainly that the + truce was only temporary. He did not know what he meant to do except that + he certainly had no intention of abandoning the little dog. To gain time + he put on his hat and coat, picked Bobby up, and opened the door. The + thought occurred to him to try the gate at the upper end of the kirkyard + or, that failing, to get into Heriot's Hospital grounds and put Bobby over + the wall. As he opened the door, however, he heard Geordie Ross's whistle + around the bend in Forest Road. + </p> + <p> + “Hey, laddie!” he called. “Come awa' in a meenit.” When the sturdy boy was + inside and the door safely shut, he began in his most guileless and + persuasive tone: “Would you like to earn a shulling, Geordie?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, I would. Gie it to me i' pennies an' ha'pennies, Maister Traill. It + seems mair, an' mak's a braw jinglin' in a pocket.” + </p> + <p> + The price was paid and the tale told. The quick championship of the boy + was engaged for the gallant dog, and Geordie's eyes sparkled at the + prospect of dark adventure. Bobby was on the floor listening, ears and + eyes, brambly muzzle and feathered tail alert. He listened with his whole, + small, excited body, and hung on the answer to the momentous question. + </p> + <p> + “Is there no' a way to smuggle the bit dog into the kirkyard?” + </p> + <p> + It appeared that nothing was easier, “aince ye ken hoo.” Did Mr. Traill + know of the internal highway through the old Cunzie Neuk at the bottom of + the Row? One went up the stairs on the front to the low, timbered gallery, + then through a passage as black as “Bluidy” McKenzie's heart. At the end + of that, one came to a peep-hole of a window, set out on wooden brackets, + that hung right over the kirkyard wall. From that window Bobby could be + dropped on a certain noble vault, from which he could jump to the ground. + </p> + <p> + “Twa meenits' wark, stout hearts, sleekit footstaps, an' the fearsome deed + is done,” declared twelve-year-old Geordie, whose sense of the dramatic + matched his daring. + </p> + <p> + But when the deed was done, and the two stood innocently on the brightly + lighted approach to the bridge, Mr. Traill had his misgivings. A + well-respected business man and church-member, he felt uneasy to be at the + mercy of a laddie who might be boastful. + </p> + <p> + “Geordie, if you tell onybody about this I'll have to give you a licking.” + </p> + <p> + “I wullna tell,” Geordie reassured him. “It's no' so respectable, an' syne + ma mither'd gie me anither lickin', an' they'd gie me twa more awfu' aces, + an' black marks for a month, at Heriot's.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. + </h2> + <p> + Word had been left at all the inns and carting offices about both markets + for the tenant of Cauldbrae farm to call at Mr. Traill's place for Bobby. + The man appeared Wednesday afternoon, driving a big Clydesdale horse to a + stout farm cart. The low-ceiled dining-room suddenly shrank about the + big-boned, long legged hill man. The fact embarrassed him, as did also a + voice cultivated out of all proportion to town houses, by shouting to dogs + and shepherds on windy shoulders of the Pentlands. + </p> + <p> + “Hae ye got the dog wi' ye?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Train pointed to Bobby, deep in a blissful, after dinner nap under the + settle. + </p> + <p> + The farmer breathed a sigh of relief, sat at a table, and ate a frugal + meal of bread and cheese. As roughly dressed as Auld Jock, in a + metal-buttoned greatcoat of hodden gray, a woolen bonnet, and the + shepherd's twofold plaid, he was a different species of human being + altogether. A long, lean, sinewy man of early middle age, he had a + smooth-shaven, bony jaw, far-seeing gray eyes under furzy brows, and a + shock of auburn hair. When he spoke, it was to give bits out of his own + experience. + </p> + <p> + “Thae terriers are usefu' eneugh on an ordinar' fairm an' i' the toon to + keep awa' the vermin, but I wadna gie a twa-penny-bit for ane o' them on a + sheep-fairm. There's a wee lassie at Cauldbrae wha wants Bobby for a pet. + It wasna richt for Auld Jock to win 'im awa' frae the bairn.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Traill's hand was lifted in rebuke. “Speak nae ill, man; Auld Jock's + dead.” + </p> + <p> + The farmer's ruddy face blanched and he dropped his knife. “He's no' + buried so sane?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, he's buried four days since in Greyfriars kirkyard, and Bobby has + slept every night on the auld man's grave.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll juist tak' a leuk at the grave, moil, gin ye'll hae an ee on the + dog.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Traill cautioned him not to let the caretaker know that Bobby had + continued to sleep in the kirkyard, after having been put out twice. The + farmer was back in ten minutes, with a canny face that defied reading. He + lighted his short Dublin pipe and smoked it out before he spoke again. + </p> + <p> + “It's ower grand for a puir auld shepherd body to be buried i' + Greyfriars.” + </p> + <p> + “No' so grand as heaven, I'm thinking.” Mr. Traill's response was dry. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, an' we're a' coontin' on gangin' there; but it's a prood thing to hae + yer banes put awa' in Greyfriars, ance ye're through wi' 'em!” + </p> + <p> + “Nae doubt the gude auld man would rather be alive on the Pentland braes + than dead in Greyfriars.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” the farmer admitted. “He was fair fond o' the hills, an' no' likin' + the toon. An', moil, he was a wonder wi' the lambs. He'd gang wi' a collie + ower miles o' country in roarin' weather, an' he'd aye fetch the lost + sheep hame. The auld moil was nane so weel furnished i' the heid, but + bairnies and beasts were unco' fond o' 'im. It wasna his fau't that Bobby + was aye at his heels. The lassie wad 'a' been after'im, gin 'er mither had + permeeted it.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Traill asked him why he had let so valuable a man go, and the farmer + replied at once that he was getting old and could no longer do the winter + work. To any but a Scotchman brought up near the sheep country this would + have sounded hard, but Mr. Traill knew that the farmers on the wild, + tipped-up moors were themselves hard pressed to meet rent and taxes. To + keep a shepherd incapacitated by age and liable to lose a flock in a + snow-storm, was to invite ruin. And presently the man showed, unwittingly, + how sweet a kernel the heart may lie under the shell of sordid necessity. + </p> + <p> + “I didna ken the auld man was fair ill or he micht hae bided at the fairm + an' tak'n 'is ain time to dee at 'is ease.” + </p> + <p> + As Bobby unrolled and stretched to an awakening, the farmer got up, took + him unaware and thrust him into a covered basket. He had no intention of + letting the little creature give him the slip again. Bobby howled at the + indignity, and struggled and tore at the stout wickerwork. It went to Mr. + Traill's heart to hear him, and to see the gallant little dog so + defenseless. He talked to him through the latticed cover all the way out + to the cart, telling him Auld Jock meant for him to go home. At that beloved + name, Bobby dropped to the bottom of the basket and cried in such a + heartbroken way that tears stood in the landlord's eyes, and even the + farmer confessed to a sudden “cauld in 'is heid.” + </p> + <p> + “I'd gie 'im to ye, mon, gin it wasna that the bit lassie wad greet her + bonny een oot gin I didna fetch 'im hame. Nae boot the bit tyke wad 'a' + deed gin ye hadna fed 'im.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh, man, he'll no' bide with me, or I'd be bargaining for him. And he'll + no' be permitted to live in the kirkyard. I know naething in this life + more pitiful than a masterless, hameless dog.” And then, to delay the + moment of parting with Bobby, who stopped crying and began to lick his + hand in frantic appeal through a hole in the basket, Mr. Traill asked how + Bobby came by his name. + </p> + <p> + “It was a leddy o' the neeborhood o' Swanston. She cam' drivin' by + Cauldbrae i' her bit cart wi' shaggy Shetlands to it an' stapped at the + dairy for a drink o' buttermilk frae the kirn. Syne she saw the sonsie + puppy loupin' at Auld Jock's heels, bonny as a poodle, but mair knowin'. + The leddy gied me a poond note for 'im. I put 'im up on the seat, an' she + said that noo she had a smart Hieland groom to match 'er Hieland steeds, + an' she flicked the ponies wi' 'er whup. Syne the bit dog was on the airth + an' flyin' awa' doon the road like the deil was after 'im. An' the leddy + lauched an' lauched, an' went awa' wi'oot 'im. At the fut o' the brae she + was still lauchin', an' she ca'ed back: 'Gie 'im the name o' Bobby, gude + mon. He's left the plow-tail an's aff to Edinburgh to mak' his fame an' + fortune.' I didna ken what the leddy meant.” + </p> + <p> + “Man, she meant he was like Bobby Burns.” + </p> + <p> + Here was a literary flavor that gave added attraction to a man who sat at + the feet of the Scottish muses. The landlord sighed as he went back to the + doorway, and he stood there listening to the clatter of the cart and + rough-shod horse and to the mournful howling of the little dog, until the + sounds died away in Forest Road. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Traill would have been surprised to know, perhaps, that the confines + of the city were scarcely passed before Bobby stopped protesting and + grieving and settled down patiently to more profitable work. A human being + thus kidnapped and carried away would have been quite helpless. But Bobby + fitted his mop of a black muzzle into the largest hole of his wicker + prison, and set his useful little nose to gathering news of his + whereabouts. + </p> + <p> + If it should happen to a dog in this day to be taken from Ye Olde + Greyfriars Dining-Rooms and carried southward out of Edinburgh there would + be two miles or more of city and suburban streets to be traversed before + coming to the open country. But a half century or more ago one could stand + at the upper gate of Greyfriars kirkyard or Heriot's Hospital grounds and + look down a slope dotted with semi-rustic houses, a village or two and + water-mills, and then cultivated farms, all the way to a stone-bridged + burn and a toll-bar at the bottom of the valley. This hillside was the + ancient Burghmuir where King James of old gathered a great host of Scots + to march and fight and perish on Flodden Field. + </p> + <p> + Bobby had not gone this way homeward before, and was puzzled by the smell + of prosperous little shops, and by the park-like odors from college + campuses to the east, and from the well-kept residence park of George + Square. But when the cart rattled across Lauriston Place he picked up the + familiar scents of milk and wool from the cattle and sheep market, and + then of cottage dooryards, of turned furrows and of farmsteads. + </p> + <p> + The earth wears ever a threefold garment of beauty. The human person + usually manages to miss nearly everything but the appearance of things. A + few of us are so fortunate as to have ears attuned to the harmonies woven + on the wind by trees and birds and water; but the tricky weft of odors + that lies closest of all, enfolding the very bosom of the earth, escapes + us. A little dog, traveling with his nose low, lives in another stratum of + the world, and experiences other pleasures than his master. He has + excitements that he does his best to share, and that send him flying in + pursuit of phantom clues. + </p> + <p> + From the top of the Burghmuir it was easy going to Bobby. The snow had + gone off in a thaw, releasing a multitude of autumnal aromas. There was a + smell of birch and beech buds sealed up in gum, of berries clotted on the + rowan-trees, and of balsam and spice from plantations of Highland firs and + larches. The babbling water of the burn was scented with the dead bracken + of glens down which it foamed. Even the leafless hedges had their woody + odors, and stone dykes their musty smell of decaying mosses and lichens. + </p> + <p> + Bobby knew the pause at the toll-bar in the valley, and the mixed odors of + many passing horses and men, there. He knew the smells of poultry and + cheese at a dairy-farm; of hunting dogs and riding-leathers at a + sportsman's trysting inn, and of grist and polluted water at a mill. And + after passing the hilltop toll-bar of Fairmilehead, dipping across a + narrow valley and rounding the base of a sentinel peak, many tame odors + were left behind. At the buildings of the large, scattered farms there + were smells of sheep, and dogs and barn yards. But, for the most part, + after the road began to climb over a high shoulder of the range, there was + just one wild tang of heather and gorse and fern, tingling with salt air + from the German Ocean. + </p> + <p> + When they reached Cauldbrae farm, high up on the slope, it was entirely + dark. Lights in the small, deep-set windows gave the outlines of a low, + steep-roofed, stone farm-house. Out of the darkness a little wind blown + figure of a lassie fled down the brae to meet the cart, and an eager + little voice, as clear as a hill-bird's piping, cried out: + </p> + <p> + “Hae ye got ma ain Bobby, faither?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, lassie, I fetched 'im hame,” the farmer roared back, in his big + voice. + </p> + <p> + Then the cart was stopped for the wee maid to scramble up over a wheel, + and there were sweet little sounds of kissing and muffled little cuddlings + under the warm plaid. When these soft endearments had been attended to + there was time for another yearning. + </p> + <p> + “May I haud wee Bobby, faither?” + </p> + <p> + “Nae, lassie, a bonny bit bairnie couldna haud 'im in 'er sma' airms. + Bobby's a' for gangin' awa' to leev in a grand kirkyaird wi' Auld Jock.” + </p> + <p> + A little gasp, and a wee sob, and an awed question: “Is gude Auld Jock + deid, daddy?” + </p> + <p> + Bobby heard it and answered with a mournful howl. The lassie snuggled + closer to the warm, beating heart, hid her eyes in the rough plaid, and + cried for Auld Jock and for the grieving little dog. + </p> + <p> + “Niest to faither an' mither an' big brither Wattie I lo'e Auld Jock an' + Bobby.” The bairnie's voice was smothered in the plaidie. Because it was + dark and none were by to see, the reticent Scot could overflow in tender + speech. His arm tightened around this one little ewe lamb of the human + fold on cold slope farm. He comforted the child by telling her how they + would mak' it up to Bobby, and how very soon a wee dog forgets the keenest + sorrow and is happy again. + </p> + <p> + The sheep-dogs charged the cart with as deafening a clamor of welcome as + if a home-coming had never happened before, and raced the horse across the + level. The kitchen door flared open, a sudden beacon to shepherds + scattered afar on these upland billows of heath. In a moment the basket + was in the house, the door snecked, and Bobby released on the hearth. + </p> + <p> + It was a beautiful, dark old kitchen, with a homely fire of peat that + glowed up to smoke-stained rafters. Soon it was full of shepherds, come in + to a supper of brose, cheese, milk and bannocks. Sheep-dogs sprawled and + dozed on the hearth, so that the gude wife complained of their being + underfoot. But she left them undisturbed and stepped over them, for, tired + as they were, they would have to go out again to drive the sheep into the + fold. + </p> + <p> + Humiliated by being brought home a prisoner, and grieving for the forsaken + grave in Greyfriars, Bobby crept away to a corner bench, on which Auld + Jock had always sat in humble self-effacement. He lay down under it, and + the little four year-old lassie sat on the floor close beside him, + understanding, and sorry with him. Her rough brother Wattie teased her + about wanting her supper there on one plate with Bobby. + </p> + <p> + “I wadna gang daft aboot a bit dog, Elsie.” + </p> + <p> + “Leave the bairn by 'er lane,” commanded the farmer. The mither patted the + child's bright head, and wiped the tears from the bluebell eyes. And there + was a little sobbing confidence poured into a sympathetic ear. + </p> + <p> + Bobby refused to eat at first, but by and by he thought better of it. A + little dog that has his life to live and his work to do must have fuel to + drive the throbbing engine of his tiny heart. So Bobby very sensibly ate a + good supper in the lassie's company and, grateful for that and for her + sympathy, submitted to her shy petting. But after the shepherds and dogs + were gone and the farmer had come in again from an overseeing look about + the place the little dog got up, trotted to the door, and lay down by it. + The lassie followed him. With two small, plump hands she pushed Bobby's + silver veil back, held his muzzle and looked into his sad, brown eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mither, mither, Bobby's greetin',” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “Nae, bonny wee, a sma' dog canna greet.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, he's greetin' sair!” A sudden, sweet little sound was dropped on + Bobby's head. + </p> + <p> + “Ye shouldna kiss the bit dog, bairnie. He isna like a human body.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, a wee kiss is gude for 'im. Faither, he greets so I canna thole it.” + The child fled to comforting arms in the inglenook and cried herself to + sleep. The gude wife knitted, and the gude mon smoked by the pleasant + fire. The only sound in the room was the ticking of the wag at the wa' + clock, for burning peat makes no noise at all, only a pungent whiff in the + nostrils, the memory of which gives a Scotch laddie abroad a fit of + hamesickness. Bobby lay very still and watchful by the door. The farmer + served his astonishing news in dramatic bits. + </p> + <p> + “Auld Jock's deid.” Bobby stirred at that, and flattened out on the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, the lassie told that, an' I wad hae kenned it by the dog. He is + greetin' by the ordinar'.” + </p> + <p> + “An' he's buried i' the kirkyaird o' auld Greyfriars.” Ah, that fetched + her! The gude wife dropped her knitting and stared at him. + </p> + <p> + “There's a gairdener, like at the country-hooses o' the gentry, leevin' in + a bit lodge by the gate. He has naethin' to do, ava, but lock the gate at + nicht, put the dogs oot, an' mak' the posies bloom i' the simmer. Ay, it's + a bonny place.” + </p> + <p> + “It's ower grand for Auld Jock.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye may weel say that. His bit grave isna so far frae the martyrs' + monument.” When the grandeur of that had sunk in he went on to other + incredibilities. + </p> + <p> + Presently he began to chuckle. “There's a bit notice on the gate that nae + dogs are admittet, but Bobby's sleepit on Auld Jock's grave ane—twa—three—fower + nichts, an' the gairdener doesna ken it, ava. He's a canny beastie.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, he is. Folk wull be comin' frae miles aroond juist to leuk at + thesperity bit. Ilka body aboot kens Auld Jock. It'll be maist michty news + to tell at the kirk on the Sabbath, that he's buried i' Greyfriars.” + </p> + <p> + Through all this talk Bobby had lain quietly by the door, in the + expectation that it would be unlatched. Impatient of delay, he began to + whimper and to scratch on the panel. The lassie opened her blue eyes at + that, scrambled down, and ran to him. Instantly Bobby was up, tugging at + her short little gown and begging to be let out. When she clasped her + chubby arms around his neck and tried to comfort him he struggled free and + set up a dreadful howling. + </p> + <p> + “Hoots, Bobby, stap yer havers!” shouted the farmer. + </p> + <p> + “Eh, lassie, he'll deave us a'. We'll juist hae to put 'im i' the byre wi' + the coos for the nicht,” cried the distracted mither. + </p> + <p> + “I want Bobby i' the bed wi' me. I'll cuddle 'im an' lo'e 'im till he + staps greetin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Nae, bonny wee, he wullna stap.” The farmer picked the child up on one + arm, gripped the dog under the other, and the gude wife went before with a + lantern, across the dark farmyard to the cow-barn. When the stout door was + unlatched there was a smell of warm animals, of milk, and cured hay, and + the sound of full, contented breathings that should have brought a sense + of companionship to a grieving little creature. + </p> + <p> + “Bobby wullna be lanely here wi' the coos, bairnie, an' i' the morn ye can + tak' a bit rope an' haud it in a wee hand so he canna brak awa', an' syne, + in a day or twa, he'll be forgettin' Auld Jock. Ay, ye'll hae grand times + wi' the sonsie doggie, rinnin' an' loupin' on the braes.” + </p> + <p> + This argument was so convincing and so attractive that the little maid + dried her tears, kissed Bobby on the head again, and made a bed of heather + for him in a corner. But as they were leaving the byre fresh doubts + assailed her. + </p> + <p> + “He'll gang awa' gin ye dinna tie 'im snug the nicht, faither.” + </p> + <p> + “Sic a fulish bairn! Wi' fower wa's aroond 'im, an' a roof to 'is heid, + an' a floor to 'is fut, hoo could a sma' dog mak' a way oot?” + </p> + <p> + It was a foolish notion, bred of fond anxiety, and so, reassured, the + child went happily back to the house and to rosy sleep in her little + closet bed. + </p> + <p> + Ah! here was a warm place in a cold world for Bobby. A soft-hearted little + mistress and merry playmate was here, generous food, and human society of + a kind that was very much to a little farm dog's liking. Here was freedom—wide + moors to delight his scampering legs, adventures with rabbits, foxes, + hares and moor-fowl, and great spaces where no one's ears would be + offended by his loudest, longest barking. Besides, Auld Jock had said, + with his last breath, “Gang—awa'—hame—laddie!” It is not + to be supposed Bobby had forgotten that, since he remembered and obeyed + every other order of that beloved voice. But there, self-interest, love of + liberty, and the instinct of obedience, even, sank into the abysses of the + little creature's mind. Up to the top rose the overmastering necessity of + guarding the bit of sacred earth that covered his master. + </p> + <p> + The byre was no sooner locked than Bobby began, in the pitch darkness, to + explore the walls. The single promise of escape that was offered was an + inch-wide crack under the door, where the flooring stopped short and + exposed a strip of earth. That would have appalled any but a desperate + little dog. The crack was so small as to admit but one paw, at first, and + the earth was packed as hard as wood by generations of trampling cattle. + </p> + <p> + There he began to dig. He came of a breed of dogs used by farmers and + hunters to dig small, burrowing animals out of holes, a breed whose + courage and persistence know no limit. He dug patiently, steadily, hour + after hour, enlarging the hole by inches. Now and then he had to stop to + rest. When he was able to use both forepaws he made encouraging progress; + but when he had to reach under the door, quite the length of his stretched + legs, and drag every bit of earth back into the byre, the task must have + been impossible to any little creature not urged by utter misery. But Skye + terriers have been known to labor with such fury that they have perished + of their own exertions. Bobby's nose sniffed liberty long before he could + squeeze his weasel-like body through the tunnel. His back bruised and + strained by the struggle through a hole too small, he stood, trembling + with exhaustion, in the windy dawn. + </p> + <p> + An opening door, a barking sheep-dog, the shuffle of the moving flock, + were signs that the farm day was beginning, although all the stars had not + faded out of the sky. A little flying shadow, Bobby slipped out of the + cow-yard, past the farm-house, and literally tumbled down the brae. From + one level to another he dropped, several hundred feet in a very few + minutes, and from the clear air of the breezy hilltop to a nether world + that was buried fathoms deep in a sea-fog as white as milk. + </p> + <p> + Hidden in a deep fold of the spreading skirts of the range, and some + distance from the road, lay a pool, made by damming a burn, and used, in + the shearing season, for washing sheep. Surrounded by brushy woods, and + very damp and dark, at other seasons it was deserted. Bobby found this + secluded place with his nose, curled up under a hazel thicket and fell + sound asleep. And while he slept, a nipping wind from the far, northern + Highlands swooped down on the mist and sent it flying out to sea. The + Lowlands cleared like magic. From the high point where Bobby lay the road + could be seen to fall, by short rises and long descents, all the way to + Edinburgh. From its crested ridge and flanking hills the city trailed a + dusky banner of smoke out over the fishing fleet in the Firth. + </p> + <p> + A little dog cannot see such distant views. Bobby could only read and + follow the guide-posts of odors along the way. He had begun the ascent to + the toll-bar when he heard the clatter of a cart and the pounding of hoofs + behind him. He did not wait to learn if this was the Cauldbrae farmer in + pursuit. Certain knowledge on that point was only to be gained at his + peril. He sprang into the shelter of a stone wall, scrambled over it, + worked his way along it a short distance, and disappeared into a brambly + path that skirted a burn in a woody dell. + </p> + <p> + Immediately the little dog was lost in an unexplored country. The narrow + glen was musical with springs, and the low growth was undercut with a maze + of rabbit runs, very distracting to a dog of a hunting breed. Bobby knew, + by much journeying with Auld Jock, that running water is a natural + highway. Sheep drift along the lowest level until they find an outlet down + some declivity, or up some foaming steep, to new pastures. + </p> + <p> + But never before had Bobby found, above such a rustic brook, a many + chimneyed and gabled house of stone, set in a walled garden and swathed in + trees. Today, many would cross wide seas to look upon Swanston cottage, in + whose odorous old garden a whey-faced, wistful-eyed laddie dreamed so many + brave and laughing dreams. It was only a farm-house then, fallen from a + more romantic history, and it had no attraction for Bobby. He merely + sniffed at dead vines of clematis, sleeping briar bushes, and very live, + bright hedges of holly, rounded a corner of its wall, and ran into a group + of lusty children romping on the brae, below the very prettiest, thatch + roofed and hill-sheltered hamlet within many a mile of Edinboro' town. The + bairns were lunching from grimy, mittened hands, gypsy fashion, life being + far too short and playtime too brief for formal meals. Seeing them eating, + Bobby suddenly discovered that he was hungry. He rose before a + well-provided laddie and politely begged for a share of his meal. + </p> + <p> + Such an excited shouting of admiration and calling on mithers to come and + see the bonny wee dog was never before heard on Swanston village green. + Doors flew open and bareheaded women ran out. Then the babies had to be + brought, and the' old grandfaithers and grandmithers. Everybody oh-ed and + ah-ed and clapped hands, and doubled up with laughter, for, a tempting bit + held playfully just out of reach, Bobby rose, again and again, jumped for + it, and chased a teasing laddie. Then he bethought him to roll over and + over, and to go through other winsome little tricks, as Auld Jock had + taught him to do, to win the reward. All this had one quite unexpected + result. A shrewd-eyed woman pounced upon Bobby and captured him. + </p> + <p> + “He's no' an ordinar' dog. Some leddy has lost her pet. I'll juist shut + 'im up, an' syne she'll pay a shullin' or twa to get 'im again.” + </p> + <p> + With a twist and a leap Bobby was gone. He scrambled straight up the + steep, thorn-clad wall of the glen, where no laddie could follow, and was + over the crest. It was a narrow escape, made by terrific effort. His + little heart pounding with exhaustion and alarm, he hid under a whin bush + to get his breath and strength. The sheltered dell was windless, but here + a stiff breeze blew. Suddenly shifting a point, the wind brought to the + little dog's nose a whiff of the acrid coal smoke of Edinburgh three miles + away. + </p> + <p> + Straight as an arrow he ran across country, over roadway and wall, plowed + fields and rippling burns. He scrambled under hedges and dashed across + farmsteads and cottage gardens. As he neared the city the hour bells aided + him, for the Skye terrier is keen of hearing. It was growing dark when he + climbed up the last bank and gained Lauriston Place. There he picked up + the odors of milk and wool, and the damp smell of the kirkyard. + </p> + <p> + Now for something comforting to put into his famished little body. A night + and a day of exhausting work, of anxiety and grief, had used up the last + ounce of fuel. Bobby raced down Forest Road and turned the slight angle + into Greyfriars Place. The lamp lighter's progress toward the bridge was + marked by the double row of lamps that bloomed, one after one, on the + dusk. The little dog had come to the steps of Mr. Traill's place, and + lifted himself to scratch on the door, when the bugle began to blow. He + dropped with the first note and dashed to the kirkyard gate. + </p> + <p> + None too soon! Mr. Brown was setting the little wicket gate inside, + against the wall. In the instant his back was turned, Bobby slipped + through. After nightfall, when the caretaker had made his rounds, he came + out from under the fallen table-tomb of Mistress Jean Grant. + </p> + <p> + Lights appeared at the rear windows of the tenements, and families sat at + supper. It was snell weather again, the sky dark with threat of snow, and + the windows were all closed. But with a sharp bark beneath the lowest of + them Bobby could have made his presence and his wants known. He watched + the people eating, sitting wistfully about on his haunches here and there, + but remaining silent. By and by there were sounds of crying babies, of + crockery being washed, and the ringing of church bells far and near. Then + the lights were extinguished, and huge bulks of shadow, of tenements and + kirk, engulfed the kirkyard. + </p> + <p> + When Bobby lay down on Auld Jock's grave, pellets of frozen snow were + falling and the air had hardened toward frost. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. + </h2> + <p> + Sleep alone goes far to revive a little dog, and fasting sharpens the + wits. Bobby was so tired that he slept soundly, but so hungry that he woke + early, and instantly alert to his situation. It was so very early of a + dark winter morning that not even the sparrows were out foraging in the + kirkyard for dry seeds. The drum and bugle had not been sounded from the + Castle when the milk and dustman's carts began to clatter over the frozen + streets. With the first hint of dawn stout fishwives, who had tramped all + the way in from the piers of Newhaven with heavily laden creels on their + heads, were lustily crying their “caller herrin'.” Soon fagot men began to + call up the courts of tenements, where fuel was bought by the scant + bundle: “Are ye cauld?” + </p> + <p> + Many a human waif in the tall buildings about the lower end of Greyfriars + kirkyard was cold, even in bed, but, in his thick underjacket of fleece, + Bobby was as warm as a plate of breakfast toast. With a vigorous shaking + he broke and scattered the crust of snow that burdened his shaggy thatch. + Then he lay down on the grave again, with his nose on his paws. Urgent + matters occupied the little dog's mind. To deal with these affairs he had + the long head of the canniest Scot, wide and high between the ears, and a + muzzle as determined as a little steel trap. Small and forlorn as he was, + courage, resource and purpose marked him. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the door of the caretaker's lodge opened he would have to creep + under the fallen slab again. To lie in such a cramped position, hour after + hour, day after day, was enough to break the spirit of any warm blooded + creature that lives. It was an exquisite form of torture not long to be + endured. And to get his single meal a day at Mr. Traill's place Bobby had + to watch for the chance opening of the wicket to slip in and out like a + thief. The furtive life is not only perilous, it outrages every feeling of + an honest dog. It is hard for him to live at all without the approval and + the cordial consent of men. The human order hostile, he quickly loses his + self-respect and drops to the pariah class. Already wee Bobby had the look + of the neglected. His pretty coat was dirty and unkempt. In his run across + country, leaves, twigs and burrs had become entangled in his long hair, + and his legs and underparts were caked with mire. + </p> + <p> + Instinctively any dog struggles to escape the fate of the outcast. By + every art he possesses he ingratiates himself with men. One that has his + usefulness in the human scheme of things often is able to make his own + terms with life, to win the niche of his choice. Bobby's one talent that + was of practical value to society was his hunting instinct for every small + animal that burrows and prowls and takes toll of men's labor. In + Greyfriars kirkyard was work to be done that he could do. For quite three + centuries rats and mice had multiplied in this old sanctuary garden from + which cats were chased and dogs excluded. Every breeze that blew carried + challenges to Bobby's offended nose. Now, in the crisp gray dawn, a big + rat came out into the open and darted here and there over the powdering of + dry snow that frosted the kirkyard. + </p> + <p> + A leap, as if released from a spring, and Bobby captured it. A snap of his + long muzzle, a jerk of his stoutly set head, and the victim hung limp from + his grip. And he followed another deeply seated instinct when he carried + the slain to Auld Jock's grave. Trophies of the chase were always to be + laid at the feet of the master. + </p> + <p> + “Gude dog! eh, but ye're a bonny wee fechter!” Auld Jock had always said + after such an exploit; and Bobby had been petted and praised until he + nearly wagged his crested tail off with happiness and pride. Then he had + been given some choice tidbit of food as a reward for his prowess. The + farmer of Cauldbrae had on such occasions admitted that Bobby might be of + use about barn and dairy, and Mr. Traill had commended his capture of + prowlers in the dining-room. But Bobby was “ower young” and had not been + “put to the vermin” as a definite business in life. He caught a rat, now + and then, as he chased rabbits, merely as a diversion. When he had caught + this one he lay down again. But after a time he got up deliberately and + trotted down to the encircling line of old courtyarded tombs. There were + nooks and crannies between and behind these along the wall into which the + caretaker could not penetrate with sickle, rake and spade, that formed + sheltered runways for rodents. + </p> + <p> + A long, low, weasel-like dog that could flatten himself on the ground, + Bobby squeezed between railings and pedestals, scrambled over fallen + fragments of sculptured urns, trumpets, angels' wings, altars, skull and + cross-bones, and Latin inscribed scrolls. He went on his stomach under + holly and laurel shrubs, burdocks, thistles, and tangled, dead vines. Here + and there he lay in such rubbish as motionless as the effigies careen on + marble biers. With the growing light grew the heap of the slain on Auld + Jock's grave. + </p> + <p> + Having done his best, Bobby lay down again, worse in appearance than + before, but with a stouter heart. He did not stir, although the shadows + fled, the sepulchers stood up around the field of snow, and slabs and + shafts camped in ranks on the slope. Smoke began to curl up from high, + clustered chimney-pots; shutters were opened, and scantily clad women had + hurried errands on decaying gallery and reeling stairway. Suddenly the + Castle turrets were gilded with pale sunshine, and all the little cells in + the tall, old houses hummed and buzzed and clacked with life. The + University bell called scattered students to morning prayers. Pinched and + elfish faces of children appeared at the windows overlooking the kirkyard. + The sparrows had instant news of that, and the little winged beggars + fluttered up to the lintels of certain deep-set casements, where ill-fed + bairns scattered breakfasts of crumbs. + </p> + <p> + Bobby watched all this without a movement. He shivered when the lodge door + was heard to open and shut and heavy footsteps crunched on the gravel and + snow around the church. “Juist fair silly” on his quaking legs he stood + up, head and tail drooped. But he held his ground bravely, and when the + caretaker sighted him he trotted to meet the man, lifted himself on his + hind legs, his short, shagged fore paws on his breast, begging attention + and indulgence. Then he sprawled across the great boots, asking pardon for + the liberty he was taking. At last, all in a flash, he darted back to the + grave, sniffed at it, and stood again, head up, plumy tail crested, all + excitement, as much as to say: + </p> + <p> + “Come awa' ower, man, an' leuk at the brave sicht.” + </p> + <p> + If he could have barked, his meaning would have carried more convincingly, + but he “hauded 'is gab” loyally. And, alas, the caretaker was not to be + beguiled. Mr. Traill had told him Bobby had been sent back to the hill + farm, but here he was, “perseestent” little rascal, and making some sort + of bid for the man's favor. Mr. Brown took his pipe out of his mouth in + surprised exasperation, and glowered at the dog. + </p> + <p> + “Gang awa' oot wi' ye!” + </p> + <p> + But Bobby was back again coaxing undauntedly, abasing himself before the + angry man, insisting that he had something of interest to show. The + caretaker was literally badgered and cajoled into following him. One + glance at the formidable heap of the slain, and Mr. Brown dropped to a + seat on the slab. + </p> + <p> + “Preserve us a'!” + </p> + <p> + He stared from the little dog to his victims, turned them over with his + stout stick and counted them, and stared again. Bobby fixed his pleading + eyes on the man and stood at strained attention while fate hung in the + balance. + </p> + <p> + “Guile wark! Guile wark! A braw doggie, an' an unco' fechter. Losh! but + ye're a deil o' a bit dog!” + </p> + <p> + All this was said in a tone of astonished comment, so non-committal of + feeling that Bobby's tail began to twitch in the stress of his anxiety. + When the caretaker spoke again, after a long, puzzled frowning, it was to + express a very human bewilderment and irritation. + </p> + <p> + “Noo, what am I gangin' to do wi' ye?” + </p> + <p> + Ah, that was encouraging! A moment before, he had ordered Bobby out in no + uncertain tone. After another moment he referred the question to a higher + court. + </p> + <p> + “Jeanie, woman, come awa' oot a meenit, wull ye?” + </p> + <p> + A hasty pattering of carpet-slippered feet on the creaking snow, around + the kirk, and there was the neatest little apple-cheeked peasant woman in + Scotland, “snod” from her smooth, frosted hair, spotless linen mutch and + lawn kerchief, to her white, lamb's wool stockings. + </p> + <p> + “Here's the bit dog I was tellin' ye aboot; an' see for yersel' what he's + done noo.” + </p> + <p> + “The wee beastie couldna do a' that! It's as muckle as his ain wecht in + fou' vermin!” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, he did. Thae terriers are sperity, by the ordinar'. Ane o' them, let + into the corn exchange a murky nicht, killed saxty in ten meenits, an' had + to be dragged awa' by the tail. Noo, what I am gangin' to do wi' the + takin' bit I dinna ken.” + </p> + <p> + It is very certain that simple Mistress Jean Brown had never heard of Mr. + Dick's advice to Miss Betsy Trotwood on the occasion when young David + Copperfield presented himself, travel-stained and weary, before his good + aunt. But out of her experience of wholesome living she brought forth the + same wise opinion. + </p> + <p> + “I'd gie him a gude washin' first of a', Jamie. He leuks like some puir, + gaen-aboot dog.” And she drew her short, blue-stuff gown back from Bobby's + grateful attentions. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Brown slapped his corduroy-breeked knee and nodded his grizzled head. + “Richt ye are. It's maist michty, noo, I wadna think o' that. When I was + leevin' as an under gairdener wi' a laird i' Argyleshire I was aye aboot + the kennels wi' the gillies. That was lang syne. The sma' terrier dogs + were aye washed i' claes tubs wi' warm water an' soap. Come awa', Bobby.” + </p> + <p> + The caretaker got up stiffly, for such snell weather was apt to give him + twinges in his joints. In him a youthful enthusiasm for dogs had suddenly + revived. Besides, although he would have denied it, he was relieved at + having the main issue, as to what was to be done with this four-footed + trespasser, side-tracked for a time. Bobby followed him to the lodge at an + eager trot, and he dutifully hopped into the bath that was set on the rear + doorstep. Mr. Brown scrubbed him vigorously, and Bobby splashed and swam + and churned the soapy water to foam. He scrambled out at once, when told + to do so, and submitted to being dried with a big, tow-linen towel. This + was all a delightful novelty to Bobby. Heretofore he had gone into any + convenient tam or burn to swim, and then dried himself by rolling on the + heather and running before the wind. Now he was bundled up ignominiously + in an old flannel petticoat, carried across a sanded kitchen floor and + laid on a warm hearth. + </p> + <p> + “Doon wi' ye!” was the gruff order. Bobby turned around and around on the + hearth, like some little wild dog making a bed in the jungle, before he + obeyed. He kept very still during the reading of a chapter and the singing + of a Psalm, as he had been taught to do at the farm by many a reminder + from Auld Jock's boot. And he kept away from the breakfast-table, although + the walls of his stomach were collapsed as flat as the sides of an empty + pocket. + </p> + <p> + It was such a clean, shining little kitchen, with the scoured deal table, + chairs and cupboard, and the firelight from the grate winked so on pewter + mugs, copper kettle, willow-patterned plates and diamond panes, that Bobby + blinked too. Flowers bloomed in pots on the casement sills, and a little + brown skylark sang, fluttering as if it would soar, in a gilded cage. + After the morning meal Mr. Brown lighted his pipe and put on his bonnet to + go out again, when he bethought him that Bobby might be needing something + to eat. + </p> + <p> + “What'll ye gie 'im, Jeanie? At the laird's, noo, the terriers were aye + fed wi' bits o' livers an' cheese an' moor fowls' eggs, an' sic-like, + fried.” + </p> + <p> + “Havers, Jamie, it's no' releegious to feed a dog better than puir bairns. + He'll do fair weel wi' table-scraps.” + </p> + <p> + She set down a plate with a spoonful of porridge on it, a cold potato, + some bread crusts, and the leavings of a broiled caller herrin'. It was a + generous breakfast for so small a dog, but Bobby had been without food for + quite forty hours, and had done an amazing amount of work in the meantime. + When he had eaten all of it, he was still hungry. As a polite hint, he + polished the empty plate with his pink tongue and looked up expectantly; + but the best-intentioned people, if they have had little to do with dogs, + cannot read such signs. + </p> + <p> + “Ye needna lick the posies aff,” the wifie said, good humoredly, as she + picked the plate up to wash it. She thought to put down a tin basin of + water. Bobby lapped a' it so eagerly, yet so daintily, that she added: + “He's a weel-broucht-up tyke, Jamie.” + </p> + <p> + “He is so. Noo, we'll see hoo weel he can leuk.” In a shamefaced way he + fetched from a tool-box a long-forgotten, strong little currycomb, such as + is used on shaggy Shetland ponies. With that he proceeded to give Bobby + such a grooming as he had never had before. It was a painful operation, + for his thatch was a stubborn mat of crisp waves and knotty tangles to his + plumy tail and down to his feathered toes. He braced himself and took the + punishment without a whimper, and when it was done he stood cascaded with + dark-silver ripples nearly to the floor. + </p> + <p> + “The bonny wee!” cried Mistress Jeanie. “I canna tak' ma twa een aff o' + 'im.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, he's bonny by the ordinar'. It wad be grand, noo, gin the meenister'd + fancy 'im an' tak' 'im into the manse.” + </p> + <p> + The wifie considered this ruefully. “Jamie, I was wishin' ye didna hae to—” + </p> + <p> + But what she wished he did not have to do, Mr. Brown did not stop to hear. + He suddenly clapped his bonnet on his head and went out. He had an urgent + errand on High Street, to buy grass and flower seeds and tools that would + certainly be needed in April. It took him an hour or more of shrewd + looking about for the best bargains, in a swarm of little barnacle and + cellar shops, to spend a few of the kirk's shillings. When he found + himself, to his disgust, looking at a nail studded collar for a little dog + he called himself a “doited auld fule,” and tramped back across the + bridge. + </p> + <p> + At the kirkyard gate he stopped and read the notice through twice: “No + dogs permitted.” That was as plain as “Thou shalt not.” To the pious + caretaker and trained servant it was the eleventh commandment. He shook + his head, sighed, and went in to dinner. Bobby was not in the house, and + the master of it avoided inquiring for him. He also avoided the wifie's + wistful eye, and he busied himself inside the two kirks all the afternoon. + </p> + <p> + Because he was in the kirks, and the beautiful memorial windows of stained + glass were not for the purpose of looking out, he did not see a dramatic + incident that occurred in the kirkyard after three o'clock in the + afternoon. The prelude to it really began with the report of the timegun + at one. Bobby had insisted upon being let out of the lodge kitchen, and + had spent the morning near Auld Jock's grave and in nosing about + neighboring slabs and thorn bushes. When the time-gun boomed he trotted to + the gate quite openly and waited there inside the wicket. + </p> + <p> + In such nipping weather there were no visitors to the kirkyard and the + gate was not opened. The music bells ran the gamut of old Scotch airs and + ceased, while he sat there and waited patiently. Once a man stopped to + look at the little dog, and Bobby promptly jumped on the wicket, plainly + begging to have it unlatched. But the passer-by decided that some lady had + left her pet behind, and would return for him. So he patted the attractive + little Highlander on the head and went on about his business. + </p> + <p> + Discouraged by the unpromising outlook for dinner that day, Bobby went + slowly back to the grave. Twice afterward he made hopeful pilgrimages to + the gate. For diversion he fell noiselessly upon a prowling cat and chased + it out of the kirkyard. At last he sat upon the table-tomb. He had escaped + notice from the tenements all the morning because the view from most of + the windows was blocked by washings, hung out and dripping, then freezing + and clapping against the old tombs. It was half-past three o'clock when a + tiny, wizened face popped out of one of the rude little windows in the + decayed Cunzie Neuk at the bottom of Candlemakers Row. Crippled Tammy Barr + called out in shrill excitement, + </p> + <p> + “Ailie! O-o-oh, Ailie Lindsey, there's the wee doggie!” + </p> + <p> + “Whaur?” The lassie's elfin face looked out from a low, rear window of the + Candlemakers' Guildhall at the top of the Row. + </p> + <p> + “On the stane by the kirk wa'.” + </p> + <p> + “I see 'im noo. Isna he bonny? I wish Bobby could bide i' the kirkyaird, + but they wadna let 'im. Tammy, gin ye tak' 'im up to Maister Traill, he'll + gie ye the shullin'!” + </p> + <p> + “I couldna tak' 'im by ma lane,” was the pathetic confession. “Wad ye gang + wi' me, Ailie? Ye could drap ower an' catch 'im, an' I could come by the + gate. Faither made me some grand crutches frae an' auld chair back.” + </p> + <p> + Tears suddenly drowned the lassie's blue eyes and ran down her pinched + little cheeks. “Nae, I couldna gang. I haena ony shoon to ma feet.” + </p> + <p> + “It's no' so cauld. Gin I had twa guile feet I could gang the bit way + wi'oot shoon.” + </p> + <p> + “I ken it isna so cauld,” Ailie admitted, “but for a lassie it's no' + respectable to gang to a grand place barefeeted.” + </p> + <p> + That was undeniable, and the eager children fell silent and tearful. But + oh, necessity is the mother of makeshifts among the poor! Suddenly Ailie + cried: “Bide a meenit, Tammy,” and vanished. Presently she was back, with + the difficulty overcome. “Grannie says I can wear her shoon. She doesna + wear 'em i' the hoose, ava.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll gie ye a saxpence, Ailie,” offered Tammy. + </p> + <p> + The sordid bargain shocked no feeling of these tenement bairns nor marred + their pleasure in the adventure. Presently there was a tap-tap-tapping of + crutches on the heavy gallery that fronted the Cunzie Neuk, and on the + stairs that descended from it to the steep and curving row. The lassie + draped a fragment of an old plaid deftly over her thinly clad shoulders, + climbed through the window, to the pediment of the classic tomb that + blocked it, and dropped into the kirkyard. To her surprise Bobby was there + at her feet, frantically wagging his tail, and he raced her to the gate. + She caught him on the steps of the dining room, and held his wriggling + little body fast until Tammy came up. + </p> + <p> + It was a tumultuous little group that burst in upon the astonished + landlord: barking fluff of an excited dog, flying lassie in clattering big + shoes, and wee, tapping Tammy. They literally fell upon him when he was + engaged in counting out his money. + </p> + <p> + “Whaur did you find him?” asked Mr. Traill in bewilderment. + </p> + <p> + Six-year-old Ailie slipped a shy finger into her mouth, and looked to the + very much more mature five-year old crippled laddie to answer, + </p> + <p> + “He was i' the kirkyaird.” + </p> + <p> + “Sittin' upon a stane by 'is ainsel',” added Ailie. + </p> + <p> + “An' no' hidin', ava. It was juist like he was leevin' there.” + </p> + <p> + “An' syne, when I drapped oot o' the window he louped at me so bonny, an' + I couldna keep up wi' 'im to the gate.” + </p> + <p> + Wonder of wonders! It was plain that Bobby had made his way back from the + hill farm and, from his appearance and manner, as well as from this + account, it was equally clear that some happy change in his fortunes had + taken place. He sat up on his haunches listening with interest and lolling + his tongue! And that was a thing the bereft little dog had not done since + his master died. In the first pause in the talk he rose and begged for his + dinner. + </p> + <p> + “Noo, what am I to pay? It took ane, twa, three o' ye to fetch ane sma' + dog. A saxpence for the laddie, a saxpence for the lassie, an' a bit meal + for Bobby.” + </p> + <p> + While he was putting the plate down under the settle Mr. Traill heard an + amazed whisper “He's gien the doggie a chuckie bane.” The landlord + switched the plate from under Bobby's protesting little muzzle and turned + to catch the hungry look on the faces of the children. Chicken, indeed, + for a little dog, before these ill-fed bairns! Mr. Traill had a brilliant + thought. + </p> + <p> + “Preserve me! I didna think to eat ma ain dinner. I hae so muckle to eat I + canna eat it by ma lane.” + </p> + <p> + The idea of having too much to eat was so preposterously funny that Tammy + doubled up with laughter and nearly tumbled over his crutches. Mr. Traill + set him upright again. + </p> + <p> + “Did ye ever gang on a picnic, bairnies?” And what was a picnic? Tammy + ventured the opinion that it might be some kind of a cart for lame laddies + to ride in. + </p> + <p> + “A picnic is when ye gang gypsying in the summer,” Mr. Traill explained. + “Ye walk to a bonny green brae, an' sit doon under a hawthorntree a' + covered wi' posies, by a babblin' burn, an' ye eat oot o' yer ain hands. + An' syne ye hear a throstle or a redbreast sing an' a saucy blackbird + whustle.” + </p> + <p> + “Could ye tak' a dog?” asked Tammy. + </p> + <p> + “Ye could that, mannie. It's no' a picnic wi'oot a sonsie doggie to rin on + the brae wi' ye.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” Ailie's blue eyes slowly widened in her pallid little face. “But ye + couldna hae a picnic i' the snawy weather.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ye could. It's the bonniest of a' when ye're no' expectin' it. I aye + keep a picnic hidden i' the ingleneuk aboon.” He suddenly swung Tammy up + on his shoulder, and calling, gaily, “Come awa',” went out the door, + through another beside it, and up a flight of stairs to the dining-room + above. A fire burned there in the grate, the tables were covered with + linen, and there were blooming flowers in pots in the front windows. + Patrons from the University, and the well-to-do streets and squares to the + south and east, made of this upper room a sort of club in the evenings. At + four o'clock in the afternoon there were no guests. + </p> + <p> + “Noo,” said Mr. Traill, when his overcome little guests were seated at a + table in the inglenook. “A picnic is whaur ye hae onything ye fancy to + eat; gude things ye wullna be haein' ilka day, ye mind.” He rang a + call-bell, and a grinning waiter laddie popped up so quickly the lassie + caught her breath. + </p> + <p> + “Eneugh broo for aince,” said Tammy. + </p> + <p> + “Porridge that isna burned,” suggested Ailie. Such pitiful poverty of the + imagination! + </p> + <p> + “Nae, it's bread, an' butter, an' strawberry jam, an' tea wi' cream an' + sugar, an' cauld chuckie at a snawy picnic,” announced Mr. Traill. And + there it was, served very quickly and silently, after some manner of + magic. Bobby had to stand on the fourth chair to eat his dinner, and when + he had despatched it he sat up and viewed the little party with the + liveliest interest and happiness. + </p> + <p> + “Tammy,” Ailie said, when her shyness had worn off, “it's like the grand + tales ye mak' up i' yer heid.” + </p> + <p> + “Preserve me! Does the wee mannie mak' up stories?” + </p> + <p> + “It's juist fulish things, aboot haein' mair to eat, an' a sonsie doggie + to play wi', an' twa gude legs to tak' me aboot. I think 'em oot at nicht + when I canna sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh, laddie, do ye noo?” Mr. Traill suddenly had a terrible “cauld in 'is + heid,” that made his eyes water. “Hoo auld are ye?” + </p> + <p> + “Five, gangin' on sax.” + </p> + <p> + “Losh! I thoucht ye war fifty, gangin' on saxty.” Laughter saved the day + from overmoist emotions. And presently Mr. Traill was able to say in a + business-like tone: + </p> + <p> + “We'll hae to tak' ye to the infirmary. An' if they canna mak' yer legs + ower ye'll get a pair o' braw crutches that are the niest thing to gude + legs. An' syne we'll see if there's no' a place in Heriot's for a sma' + laddie that mak's up bonny tales o' his ain in the murky auld Cunzie + Neuk.” + </p> + <p> + Now the gay little feast was eaten, and early dark was coming on. If Mr. + Traill had entertained the hope that Bobby had recovered from his grief + and might remain with him, he was disappointed. The little dog began to be + restless. He ran to the door and back; he begged, and he scratched on the + panel. And then he yelped! As soon as the door was opened he shot out of + it, tumbled down the stairway and waited at the foot impatiently for the + lower door to be unlatched. Ailie's thin, swift legs were left behind when + Bobby dashed to the kirkyard. + </p> + <p> + Tammy followed at a surprising pace on his rude crutches, and Mr. Traill + brought up the rear. If the children could not smuggle the frantic little + dog inside, the landlord meant to put him over the wicket and, if + necessary, to have it out with the caretaker, and then to go before the + kirk minister and officers with his plea. He was still concealed by the + buildings, from the alcoved gate, when he heard Mr. Brown's gruff voice + taking the frightened bairns to task. + </p> + <p> + “Gie me the dog; an' dinna ye tak' him oot ony mair wi'oot spierin' me.” + </p> + <p> + The children fled. Peeping around the angle of the Book Hunter's Stall, + Mr. Traill saw the caretaker lift Bobby over the wicket to his arms, and + start with him toward the lodge. He was perishing with curiosity about + this astonishing change of front on the part of Mr. Brown, but it was a + delicate situation in which it seemed best not to meddle. He went slowly + back to the restaurant, begrudging Bobby to the luckier caretaker. + </p> + <p> + His envy was premature. Mr. Brown set Bobby inside the lodge kitchen and + announced briefly to his wife: “The bit dog wull sleep i' the hoose the + nicht.” And he went about some business at the upper end of the kirkyard. + When he came in an hour later Bobby was gone. + </p> + <p> + “I couldna keep 'im in, Jamie. He didna blatter, but he greeted so sair to + be let oot, an syne he scratched a' the paint aff the door.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Brown glowered at her in exasperation. “Woman, they'll hae me up afore + kirk sessions for brakin' the rules, an' syne they'll turn us a' oot i' + the cauld warld togither.” + </p> + <p> + He slammed the door and stormed angrily around the kirk. It was still + light enough to see the little creature on the snowy mound and, indeed, + Bobby got up and wagged his tail in friendly greeting. At that all the + bluster went out of the man, and he began to argue the matter with the + dog. + </p> + <p> + “Come awa', Bobby. Ye canna be leevin' i' the kirkyaird.” + </p> + <p> + Bobby was of a different opinion. He turned around and around, + thoughtfully, several times, then sat up on the grave. Entirely willing to + spend a social hour with his new friend, he fixed his eyes hospitably upon + him. Mr. Brown dropped to the slab, lighted his pipe, and smoked for a + time, to compose his agitated mind. By and by he got up briskly and + stooped to lift the little dog. At that Bobby dug his claws in the clods + and resisted with all his muscular body and determined mind. He clung to + the grave so desperately, and looked up so piteously, that the caretaker + surrendered. And there was snod Mistress Jeanie, forgetting her spotless + gown and kneeling in the snow. + </p> + <p> + “Puir Bobby, puir wee Bobby!” she cried, and her tears fell on the little + tousled head. The caretaker strode abruptly away and waited for the wifie + in the shadow of the auld kirk. Bobby lifted his muzzle and licked the + caressing hand. Then he curled himself up comfortably on the mound and + went to sleep. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII. + </h2> + <p> + In no part of Edinburgh did summer come up earlier, or with more lavish + bloom, than in old Greyfriars kirkyard. Sheltered on the north and east, + it was open to the moist breezes of the southwest, and during all the + lengthening afternoons the sun lay down its slope and warmed the rear + windows of the overlooking tenements. Before the end of May the caretaker + had much ado to keep the growth in order. Vines threatened to engulf the + circling street of sepulchers in greenery and bloom, and grass to encroach + on the flower plots. + </p> + <p> + A half century ago there were no rotary lawnmowers to cut off clover + heads; and, if there had been, one could not have been used on these + dropping terraces, so populous with slabs and so closely set with turfed + mounds and oblongs of early flowering annuals and bedding plants. Mr. + Brown had to get down on his hands and knees, with gardener's shears, to + clip the turfed borders and banks, and take a sickle to the hummocks. Thus + he could dig out a root of dandelion with the trowel kept ever in his + belt, consider the spreading crocuses and valley lilies, whether to spare + them, give a country violet its blossoming time, and leave a screening + burdock undisturbed until fledglings were out of their nests in the + shrubbery. + </p> + <p> + Mistress Jeanie often brought out a little old milking stool on balmy + mornings, and sat with knitting or mending in one of the narrow aisles, to + advise her gude-mon in small matters. Bobby trotted quietly about, + sniffing at everything with the liveliest interest, head on this side or + that, alertly. His business, learned in his first summer in Greyfriars, + was to guard the nests of foolish skylarks, song-thrushes, redbreasts and + wrens, that built low in lilac, laburnum, and flowering currant bushes, in + crannies of wall and vault, and on the ground. It cannot but be a pleasant + thing to be a wee young dog, full of life and good intentions, and to play + one's dramatic part in making an old garden of souls tuneful with bird + song. A cry of alarm from parent or nestling was answered instantly by the + tiny, tousled policeman, and there was a prowler the less, or a skulking + cat was sent flying over tomb and wall. + </p> + <p> + His duty done, without noise or waste of energy, Bobby returned to lie in + the sun on Auld Jock's grave. Over this beloved mound a coverlet of rustic + turf had been spread as soon as the frost was out of the ground, and a + bonny briar bush planted at the head. Then it bore nature's own tribute of + flowers, for violets, buttercups, daisies and clover blossoms opened there + and, later, a spike or so of wild foxglove and a knot of heather. Robin + redbreasts and wrens foraged around Bobby, unafraid; swallows swooped down + from their mud villages, under the dizzy dormers and gables, to flush the + flies on his muzzle, and whole flocks of little blue titmice fluttered + just overhead, in their rovings from holly and laurel to newly tasseled + firs and yew trees. + </p> + <p> + The click of the wicket gate was another sort of alarm altogether. At that + the little dog slipped under the fallen table-tomb and lay hidden there + until any strange visitor had taken himself away. Except for two more + forced returns and ingenious escapes from the sheepfarm on the Pentlands, + Bobby had lived in the kirkyard undisturbed for six months. The caretaker + had neither the heart to put him out nor the courage to face the minister + and the kirk officers with a plea for him to remain. The little dog's + presence there was known, apparently, only to Mr. Traill, to a few of the + tenement dwellers, and to the Heriot boys. If his life was clandestine in + a way, it was as regular of hour and duty and as well ordered as that of + the garrison in the Castle. + </p> + <p> + When the time-gun boomed, Bobby was let out for his midday meal at Mr. + Traill's and for a noisy run about the neighborhood to exercise his lungs + and legs. On Wednesdays he haunted the Grassmarket, sniffing at horses, + carts and mired boots. Edinburgh had so many shaggy little Skye and Scotch + terriers that one more could go about unremarked. Bobby returned to the + kirkyard at his own good pleasure. In the evening he was given a supper of + porridge and broo, or milk, at the kitchen door of the lodge, and the + nights he spent on Auld Jock's grave. The morning drum and bugle woke him + to the chase, and all his other hours were spent in close attendance on + the labors of the caretaker. The click of the wicket gate was the signal + for instant disappearance. + </p> + <p> + A scramble up the wall from Heriot's Hospital grounds, or the patter of + bare feet on the gravel, however, was notice to come out and greet a + friend. Bobby was host to the disinherited children of the tenements. Now, + at the tap-tap-tapping of Tammy Barr's crutches, he scampered up the + slope, and he suited his pace to the crippled boy's in coming down again. + Tammy chose a heap of cut grass on which to sit enthroned and play king, a + grand new crutch for a scepter, and Bobby for a courtier. At command, the + little dog rolled over and over, begged, and walked on his hind legs. He + even permitted a pair of thin little arms to come near strangling him, in + an excess of affection. Then he wagged his tail and lolled his tongue to + show that he was friendly, and trotted away about his business. Tammy took + an oat-cake from his pocket to nibble, and began a conversation with + Mistress Jeanie. + </p> + <p> + “I broucht a picnic wi' me.” + </p> + <p> + “Did ye, noo? An' hoo did ye ken aboot picnics, laddie?” + </p> + <p> + “Maister Traill was tellin' Ailie an' me. There's ilka thing to mak' a + picnic i' the kirkyaird. They couldna mak' my legs gude i' the infairmary, + but I'm gangin' to Heriot's. I'll juist hae to airn ma leevin' wi' ma + heid, an' no' remember aboot ma legs, ava. Is he no' a bonny doggie?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, he's bonny. An' ye're a braw laddie no' to fash yersel' aboot what + canna be helped.” + </p> + <p> + The wifie took his ragged jacket and mended it, dropped a tear in an + impossible hole, and a ha'penny in the one good pocket. And by and by the + pale laddie slept there among the bright graves, in the sun. After another + false alarm from the gate she asked her gude-mon, as she had asked many + times before: + </p> + <p> + “What'll ye do, Jamie, when the meenister kens aboot Bobby, an' ca's ye up + afore kirk sessions for brakin' the rule?” + </p> + <p> + “We wullna cross the brig till we come to the burn, woman,” he invariably + answered, with assumed unconcern. Well he knew that the bridge might be + down and the stream in flood when he came to it. But Mr. Traill was a + member of Greyfriars auld kirk, too, and a companion in guilt, and Mr. + Brown relied not a little on the landlord's fertile mind and daring + tongue. And he relied on useful, well-behaving Bobby to plead his own + cause. + </p> + <p> + “There's nae denyin' the doggie is takin' in 'is ways. He's had twa gude + hames fair thrown at 'is heid, but the sperity bit keeps to 'is ain mind. + An' syne he's usefu', an' hauds 'is gab by the ordinar'.” He often + reinforced his inclination with some such argument. + </p> + <p> + With all their caution, discovery was always imminent. The kirkyard was + long and narrow and on rising levels, and it was cut almost across by the + low mass of the two kirks, so that many things might be going on at one + end that could not be seen from the other. On this Saturday noon, when the + Heriot boys were let out for the half-holiday, Mr. Brown kept an eye on + them until those who lived outside had dispersed. When Mistress Jeanie + tucked her knitting-needles in her belt, and went up to the lodge to put + the dinner over the fire, the caretaker went down toward Candlemakers Row + to trim the grass about the martyrs' monument. Bobby dutifully trotted at + his heels. Almost immediately a half-dozen laddies, led by Geordie Ross + and Sandy McGregor, scaled the wall from Heriot's grounds and stepped down + into the kirkyard, that lay piled within nearly to the top. They had a + perfectly legitimate errand there, but no mission is to be approached + directly by romantic boyhood. + </p> + <p> + “Hist!” was the warning, and the innocent invaders, feeling delightfully + lawless, stole over and stormed the marble castle, where “Bluidy” McKenzie + slept uneasily against judgment day. Light-hearted lads can do daring + deeds on a sunny day that would freeze their blood on a dark and stormy + night. So now Geordie climbed nonchalantly to a seat over the old + persecutor, crossed his stout, bare legs, filled an imaginary pipe, and + rattled the three farthings in his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “I'm 'Jinglin' Geordie' Heriot,” he announced. + </p> + <p> + “I'll show ye hoo a prood goldsmith ance smoked wi' a'.” Then, jauntily: + “Sandy, gie a crack to 'Bluidy' McKenzie's door an' daur the auld hornie + to come oot.” + </p> + <p> + The deed was done amid breathless apprehensions, but nothing disturbed the + silence of the May noon except the lark that sprang at their feet and + soared singing into the blue. It was Sandy who presently whistled like a + blackbird to attract the attention of Bobby. + </p> + <p> + There were no blackbirds in the kirkyard, and Bobby understood the signal. + He scampered up at once and dashed around the kirk, all excitement, for he + had had many adventures with the Heriot boys at skating and hockey on + Duddingston Lock in the winter, and tramps over the country and out to + Leith harbor in the spring. The laddies prowled along the upper wall of + the kirks, opened and shut the wicket, to give the caretaker the idea that + they had come in decorously by the gate, and went down to ask him, with + due respect and humility, if they could take Bobby out for the afternoon. + They were going to mark the places where wild flowers might be had, to + decorate “Jinglin' Geordie's” portrait, statue and tomb at the school on + Founder's Day. Mr. Brown considered them with a glower that made the boys + nudge each other knowingly. “Saturday isna the day for 'im to be gaen + aboot. He aye has a washin' an' a groomin' to mak' 'im fit for the + Sabbath. An', by the leuk o' ye, ye'd be nane the waur for soap an' water + yer ainsel's.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll gie 'im 'is washin' an' combin' the nicht,” they volunteered, + eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Weel, noo, he wullna hae 'is dinner till the time-gun.” + </p> + <p> + Neither would they. At that, annoyed by their persistence, Mr. Brown + denied authority. + </p> + <p> + “Ye ken weel he isna ma dog. Ye'll hae to gang up an' spier Maister + Traill. He's fair daft aboot the gude-for-naethin' tyke.” + </p> + <p> + This was understood as permission. As the boys ran up to the gate, with + Bobby at their heels, Mr. Brown called after them: “Ye fetch 'im hame wi' + the sunset bugle, an' gin ye teach 'im ony o' yer unmannerly ways I'll + tak' a stick to yer breeks.” + </p> + <p> + When they returned to Mr. Traill's place at two o'clock the landlord stood + in shirt-sleeves and apron in the open doorway with Bobby, the little dog + gripping a mutton shank in his mouth. + </p> + <p> + “Bobby must tak' his bone down first and hide it awa'. The Sabbath in a + kirkyard is a dull day for a wee dog, so he aye gets a catechism of a bone + to mumble over.” + </p> + <p> + 'The landlord sighed in open envy when the laddies and the little dog + tumbled down the Row to the Grassmarket on their gypsying. His eyes sought + out the glimpse of green country on the dome of Arthur's Seat, that loomed + beyond the University towers to the east. There are times when the heart + of a boy goes ill with the sordid duties of the man. + </p> + <p> + Straight down the length of the empty market the laddies ran, through the + crooked, fascinating haunt of horses and jockeys in the street of King's + Stables, then northward along the fronts of quaint little handicrafts + shops that skirted Castle Crag. By turning westward into Queensferry + Street a very few minutes would have brought them to a bit of buried + country. But every expedition of Edinburgh lads of spirit of that day was + properly begun with challenges to scale Castle Rock from the valley park + of Princes Street Gardens on the north. + </p> + <p> + “I daur ye to gang up!” was all that was necessary to set any group of + youngsters to scaling the precipice. By every tree and ledge, by every + cranny and point of rock, stoutly rooted hazel and thorn bush and clump of + gorse, they climbed. These laddies went up a quarter or a third of the way + to the grim ramparts and came cautiously down again. Bobby scrambled + higher, tumbled back more recklessly and fell, head over heels and upside + down, on the daisied turf. He righted himself at once, and yelped in sharp + protest. Then he sniffed and busied himself with pretenses, in the + elaborate unconcern with which a little dog denies anything discreditable. + There were legends of daring youth having climbed this war-like cliff and + laying hands on the fortress wall, but Geordie expressed a popular feeling + in declaring these tales “a' lees.” + </p> + <p> + “No' ony laddie could gang a' the way up an' come doon wi' 'is heid no' + broken. Bobby couldna do it, an' he's mair like a wild fox than an + ordinar' dog. Noo, we're the Light Brigade at Balaklava. Chairge!” + </p> + <p> + The Crimean War was then a recent event. Heroes of Sebastopol answered the + summons of drum and bugle in the Castle and fired the hearts of Edinburgh + youth. Cannon all around them, and “theirs not to reason why,” this little + band stormed out Queensferry Street and went down, hand under hand, into + the fairy underworld of Leith Water. + </p> + <p> + All its short way down from the Pentlands to the sea, the Water of Leith + was then a foaming little river of mills, twisting at the bottom of a + gorge. One cliff-like wall or the other lay to the sun all day, so that + the way was lined with a profusion of every wild thing that turns green + and blooms in the Lowlands of Scotland. And it was filled to the brim with + bird song and water babble. + </p> + <p> + A crowd of laddies had only to go inland up this gorge to find wild and + tame bloom enough to bury “Jinglin' Geordie” all over again every year. + But adventure was to be had in greater variety by dropping seaward with + the bickering brown water. These waded along the shallow margin, walked on + shelving sands of gold, and, where the channel was filled, they clung to + the rocks and picked their way along dripping ledges. Bobby missed no + chance to swim. If he could scramble over rough ground like a squirrel or + a fox, he could swim like an otter. Swept over the low dam at Dean + village, where a cup-like valley was formed, he tumbled over and over in + the spray and was all but drowned. As soon as he got his breath and his + bearings he struck out frantically for the bank, shook the foam from his + eyes and ears, and barked indignantly at the saucy fall. The white miller + in the doorway of the gray-stone, red-roofed mill laughed, and anxious + children ran down from a knot of storybook cottages and gay dooryards. + “I'll gie ye ten shullin's for the sperity bit dog,” the miller shouted, + above the clatter of the' wheel and the swish of the dam. + </p> + <p> + “He isna oor ain dog,” Geordie called back. “But he wullna droon. He's got + a gude heid to 'im, an' wullna be sic a bittie fule anither time.” + </p> + <p> + Indeed he had a good head on him! Bobby never needed a second lesson. At + Silver Mills and Canon Mills he came out and trotted warily around the + dam. Where the gorge widened to a valley toward the sea they all climbed + up to Leith Walk, that ran to the harbor, and came out to a wonder-world + of water-craft anchored in the Firth. Each boy picked out his ship to go + adventuring. + </p> + <p> + “I'm gangin' to Norway!” + </p> + <p> + Geordie was scornful. “Hoots, ye tame pussies. Ye're fleid o' gettin' yer + feet wat. I'll be rinnin' aff to be a pirate. Come awa' doon.” + </p> + <p> + They followed the leader along shore and boarded an abandoned and + evil-smelling fishingboat. There they ran up a ragged jacket for a black + flag. But sailing a stranded craft palled presently. + </p> + <p> + “Nae, I'm gangin' to be a Crusoe. Preserve me! If there's no' a futprint + i' the sand! Bobby's ma sma' man Friday.” + </p> + <p> + Away they ran southward to find a castaway's shelter in a hollow on the + golf links. Soon this was transformed into a wrecker's den, and then into + the hiding-place of a harried Covenanter fleeing religious persecution. + Daring things to do swarmed in upon their minds, for Edinburgh laddies + live in a city of romantic history, of soldiers, of near-by mountains, and + of sea rovings. No adventure served them five minutes, and Bobby was in + every one. Ah, lucky Bobby, to have such gay playfellows on a sunny + afternoon and under foot the open country! + </p> + <p> + And fortunate laddies to have such a merry rascal of a wee dog with them! + To the mile they ran, Bobby went five, scampering in wide circles and + barking and louping at butterflies and whaups. He made a detour to the + right to yelp saucily at the red-coated sentry who paced before the Gothic + gateway to the deserted Palace of Holyrood, and as far to the left to + harry the hoofs of a regiment of cavalry drilling before the barracks at + Piershill. He raced on ahead and swam out to scatter the fleet of swan + sailing or the blue mirror of Duddingston Loch. + </p> + <p> + The tired boys lay blissfully up the sunny side of Arthur's Seat in a + thicket of hazel while Geordie carried out a daring plan for which privacy + was needed. Bobby was solemnly arraigned before a court on the charge of + being a seditious Covenanting meenister, and was required to take the oath + of loyalty to English King and Church on pain of being hanged in the + Grassmarket. The oath had been duly written out on paper and greased with + mutton tallow to make it more palatable. Bobby licked the fat off with + relish. Then he took the paper between his sharp little teeth and merrily + tore it to shreds. And, having finished it, he barked cheerful defiance at + the court. The lads came near rolling down the slope with laughter, and + they gave three cheers for the little hero. Sandy remarked, “Ye wadna + think, noo, sic a sonsie doggie wad be leevin' i' the murky auld + kirkyaird.” + </p> + <p> + Bobby had learned the lay of the tipped-up and scooped-out and jumbled + auld toon, and he led the way homeward along the southern outskirts of the + city. He turned up Nicolson Street, that ran northward, past the + University and the old infirmary. To get into Greyfriars Place from the + east at that time one had to descend to the Cowgate and climb out again. + Bobby darted down the first of the narrow wynds. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he turned 'round and 'round in bewilderment, then shot through a + sculptured door way, into a well-like court, and up a flight of stone + stairs. The slamming of a shutter overhead shocked him to a standstill on + the landing and sent him dropping slowly down again. What memories surged + back to his little brain, what grief gripped his heart, as he stood + trembling on a certain spot in the pavement where once a long deal box had + rested! + </p> + <p> + “What ails the bittie dog?” There was something here that sobered the + thoughtless boys. “Come awa', Bobby!” + </p> + <p> + At that he came obediently enough. But he trotted down the very middle of + the wynd, head and tail low, and turned unheeding into the + Saturday-evening roar of the Cowgate. He refused to follow them up the + rise between St. Magdalen's Chapel and the eastern parapet of the bridge, + but kept to his way under the middle arch into the Grassmarket. By way of + Candlemakers Row he gained the kirkyard gate, and when the wicket was + opened he disappeared around the church. When Bobby failed to answer + calls, Mr. Brown grumbled, but went after him. The little dog submitted to + his vigorous scrubbing and grooming, but he refused his supper. Without a + look or a wag of the tail he was gone again. + </p> + <p> + “Noo, what hae ye done to'im? He's no' like 'is ainsel' ava.” + </p> + <p> + They had done nothing, indeed. They could only relate Bobby's strange + behavior in College Wynd and the rest of the way home. Mistress Jeanie + nodded her head, with the wisdom of women that is of the heart. + </p> + <p> + “Eh, Jamie, that wad be whaur 'is maister deed sax months syne.” And + having said it she slipped down the slope with her knitting and sat on the + mound beside the mourning little dog. + </p> + <p> + When the awe-struck lads asked for the story Mr. Brown shook his head. “Ye + spier Maister Traill. He kens a' aboot it; an' syne he can talk like a + beuk.” + </p> + <p> + Before they left the kirkyard the laddies walked down to Auld Jock's grave + and patted Bobby on the head, and they went away thoughtfully to their + scattered homes. + </p> + <p> + As on that first morning when his grief was new, Bobby woke to a + Calvinistic Sabbath. There were no rattling carts or hawkers crying their + wares. Steeped in sunshine, the Castle loomed golden into the blue. + Tenement dwellers slept late, and then moved about quietly. Children with + unwontedly clean faces came out to galleries and stairs to study their + catechisms. Only the birds were unaware of the seventh day, and went about + their melodious business; and flower buds opened to the sun. + </p> + <p> + In mid-morning there suddenly broke on the sweet stillness that clamor of + discordant bells that made the wayfarer in Edinburgh stop his ears. All + the way from Leith Harbor to the Burghmuir eight score of warring bells + contended to be heard. Greyfriars alone was silent in that babblement, for + it had lost tower and bell in an explosion of gunpowder. And when the din + ceased at last there was a sound of military music. The Castle gates swung + wide, and a kilted regiment marched down High Street playing “God Save the + Queen.” When Bobby was in good spirits the marching music got into his + legs and set him to dancing scandalously. The caretaker and his wifie + always came around the kirk on pleasant mornings to see the bonny sight of + the gay soldiers going to church. + </p> + <p> + To wee Bobby these good, comfortable, everyday friends of his must have + seemed strange in their black garments and their serious Sunday faces. + And, ah! the Sabbath must, indeed, have been a dull day to the little dog. + He had learned that when the earliest comer clicked the wicket he must go + under the table-tomb and console himself with the extra bone that Mr. + Traill never failed to remember. With an hour's respite for dinner at the + lodge, between the morning and afternoon services, he lay there all day. + The restaurant was closed, and there was no running about for good dogs. + In the early dark of winter he could come out and trot quietly about the + silent, deserted place. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the crocuses pushed their green noses through the earth in the + spring the congregation began to linger among the graves, for to see an + old burying ground renew its life is a peculiar promise of the + resurrection. By midsummer visitors were coming from afar, some even from + over-sea, to read the quaint inscriptions on the old tombs, or to lay + tributes of flowers on the graves of poets and religious heroes. It was + not until the late end of such a day that Bobby could come out of hiding + to stretch his cramped legs. Then it was that tenement children dropped + from low windows, over the tombs, and ate their suppers of oat cake there + in the fading light. + </p> + <p> + When Mr. Traill left the kirkyard in the bright evening of the last Sunday + in May he stopped without to wait for Dr. Lee, the minister of Greyfriars + auld kirk, who had been behind him to the gate. Now he was nowhere to be + seen. With Bobby ever in the background of his mind, at such times of + possible discovery, Mr. Traill reentered the kirkyard. The minister was + sitting on the fallen slab, tall silk hat off, with Mr. Brown standing + beside him, uncovered and miserable of aspect, and Bobby looking up + anxiously at this new element in his fate. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think it seemly for a dog to be living in the churchyard, Mr. + Brown?” The minister's voice was merely kind and inquiring, but the + caretaker was in fault, and this good English was disconcerting. However, + his conscience acquitted him of moral wrong, and his sturdy Scotch + independence came to the rescue. + </p> + <p> + “Gin a bit dog, wha hands 'is gab, isna seemly, thae pussies are the + deil's ain bairns.” + </p> + <p> + The minister lifted his hand in rebuke. “Remember the Sabbath Day. And I + see no cats, Mr. Brown.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye wullna see ony as lang as the wee doggie is leevin' i' the kirkyaird. + An' the vermin hae sneekit awa' the first time sin' Queen Mary's day. An' + syne there's mair singin' birdies than for mony a year.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Traill had listened, unseen. Now he came forward with a gay challenge + in broad Scotch to put the all but routed caretaker at his ease. + </p> + <p> + “Doctor, I hae a queistion to spier ye. Which is mair unseemly: a + weel-behavin' bittie tyke i' the kirkyaird or a scandalous organ i' the + kirk?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Mr. Traill, I'm afraid you're a sad, irreverent young dog yourself, + sir.” The minister broke into a genial laugh. “Man, you've spoiled a bit + of fun I was having with Mr. Brown, who takes his duties 'sairiously.”' He + sat looking down at the little dog until Bobby came up to him and stood + confidingly under his caressing hand. Then he added: “I have suspected for + some months that he was living in the churchyard. It is truly remarkable + that an active, noisy little Skye could keep so still about it.” + </p> + <p> + At that Mr. Brown retreated to the martyrs' monument to meditate on the + unministerial behavior of this minister and professor of Biblical + criticism in the University. Mr. Traill, however, sat himself down on the + slab for a pleasant probing into the soul of this courageous dominie, who + had long been under fire for his innovations in the kirk services. + </p> + <p> + “I heard of Bobby first early in the winter, from a Bible-reader at the + Medical Mission in the Cowgate, who saw the little dog's master buried. He + sees many strange, sad things in his work, but nothing ever shocked him so + as the lonely death of that pious old shepherd in such a picturesque den + of vice and misery.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, he went from my place, fair ill, into the storm. I never knew whaur + the auld man died.” + </p> + <p> + The minister looked at Mr. Traill, struck by the note of remorse in his + tone. + </p> + <p> + “The missionary returned to the churchyard to look for the dog that had + refused to leave the grave. He concluded that Bobby had gone away to a new + home and master, as most dogs do go sooner or later. Some weeks afterward + the minister of a small church in the hills inquired for him and insisted + that he was still here. This last week, at the General Assembly, I heard + of the wee Highlander from several sources. The tales of his escapes from + the sheep-farm have grown into a sort of Odyssey of the Pentlands. I + think, perhaps, if you had not continued to feed him, Mr. Traill, he might + have remained at his old home.” + </p> + <p> + “Nae, I'm no' thinking so, and I was no' willing to risk the starvation of + the bonny, leal Highlander.” + </p> + <p> + Until the stars came out Mr. Traill sat there telling the story. At + mention of his master's name Bobby returned to the mound and stretched + himself across it. “I will go before the kirk officers, Doctor Lee, and + tak' full responseebility. Mr. Brown is no' to blame. It would have tak'n + a man with a heart of trap-rock to have turned the woeful bit dog out.” + </p> + <p> + “He is well cared for and is of a hardy breed, so he is not likely to + suffer; but a dog, no more than a man, cannot live on bread alone. His + heart hungers for love.” + </p> + <p> + “Losh!” cried Mr. Brown. “Are ye thinkin' he isna gettin' it? Oor bairns + are a' oot o' the hame nest, an' ma woman, Jeanie, is fair daft aboot + Bobby, aye thinkin' he'll tak' the measles. An' syne, there's a' the + tenement bairns cryin' oot on 'im ilka meenit, an' ane crippled laddie he + een lets fondle 'im.” + </p> + <p> + “Still, it would be better if he belonged to some one master. Everybody's + dog is nobody's dog,” the minister insisted. “I wish you could attach him + to you, Mr. Traill.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, it's a disappointment to me that he'll no' bide with me. Perhaps, in + time—” + </p> + <p> + “It's nae use, ava,” Mr. Brown interrupted, and he related the incident of + the evening before. “He's cheerfu' eneugh maist o' the time, an' likes to + be wi' the laddies as weel as ony dog, but he isna forgettin' Auld Jock. + The wee doggie cam' again to 'is maister's buryin'. Man, ye ne'er saw the + like o' it. The wifie found 'im flattened oot to a furry door-mat, an' + greetin' to brak 'is heart.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a remarkable story; and he's a beautiful little dog, and a leal + one.” The minister stooped and patted Bobby, and he was thoughtful all the + way to the gate. + </p> + <p> + “The matter need not be brought up in any formal way. I will speak to the + elders and deacons about it privately, and refer those wanting details to + you, Mr. Traill. Mr. Brown,” he called to the caretaker who stood in the + lodge door, “it cannot be pleasing to God to see the little creature + restrained. Give Bobby his liberty on the Sabbath.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII. + </h2> + <p> + It was more than eight years after Auld Jock fled from the threat of a + doctor that Mr. Traill's prediction, that his tongue would get him into + trouble with the magistrates, was fulfilled; and then it was because of + the least-considered slip in speaking to a boyhood friend who happened to + be a Burgh policeman. + </p> + <p> + Many things had tried the landlord of Ye Olde Greyfriars Dining-Rooms. + After a series of soft April days, in which lilacs budded and birds sang + in the kirkyard, squalls of wind and rain came up out of the sea-roaring + east. The smoky old town of Edinburgh was so shaken and beaten upon and + icily drenched that rattling finials and tiles were torn from ancient + gables and whirled abroad. Rheumatic pains were driven into the joints of + the elderly. Mr. Brown took to his bed in the lodge, and Mr. Traill was + touchy in his temper. + </p> + <p> + A sensitive little dog learns to read the human barometer with a degree of + accuracy rarely attained by fellowmen and, in times of low pressure, + wisely effaces himself. His rough thatch streaming, Bobby trotted in + blithely for his dinner, ate it under the settle, shook himself dry, and + dozed half the afternoon. + </p> + <p> + To the casual observer the wee terrier was no older than when his master + died. As swift of foot and as sound of wind as he had ever been, he could + tear across country at the heels of a new generation of Heriot laddies and + be as fresh as a daisy at nightfall. Silvery gray all over, the whitening + hairs on his face and tufted feet were not visible. His hazel-brown eyes + were still as bright and soft and deep as the sunniest pools of Leith + Water. It was only when he opened his mouth for a tiny, pink cavern of a + yawn that the points of his teeth could be seen to be wearing down; and + his after-dinner nap was more prolonged than of old. At such times Mr. + Traill recalled that the longest life of a dog is no more than a fifth of + the length of days allotted to man. + </p> + <p> + On that snarling April day, when only himself and the flossy ball of + sleeping Skye were in the place, this thought added to Mr. Traill's + discontent. There had been few guests. Those who had come in, soaked and + surly, ate their dinner in silence and discomfort and took themselves + away, leaving the freshly scrubbed floor as mucky as a moss-hag on the + moor. Late in the afternoon a sergeant, risen from the ranks and cocky + about it, came in and turned himself out of a dripping greatcoat, dapper + and dry in his red tunic, pipe-clayed belt, and winking buttons. He + ordered tea and toast and Dundee marmalade with an air of gay well-being + that was no less than a personal affront to a man in Mr. Traill's frame of + mind. Trouble brewed with the tea that Ailie Lindsey, a tall lassie of + fifteen, but shy and elfish as of old, brought in on a tray from the + scullery. + </p> + <p> + When this spick-and-span non-commissioned officer demanded Mr. Traill's + price for the little dog that took his eye, the landlord replied curtly + that Bobby was not for sale. The soldier was insolently amused. + </p> + <p> + “That's vera surprisin'. I aye thoucht an Edinburgh shopkeeper wad sell + ilka thing he had, an' tak' the siller to bed wi' 'im to keep 'im snug the + nicht.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Traill returned, with brief sarcasm, that “his lairdship” had been + misinformed. + </p> + <p> + “Why wull ye no' sell the bit dog?” the man insisted. + </p> + <p> + The badgered landlord turned upon him and answered at length, after the + elaborate manner of a minister who lays his sermon off in sections, + </p> + <p> + “First: he's no' my dog to sell. Second: he's a dog of rare + discreemination, and is no' like to tak' you for a master. Third: you + soldiers aye have with you a special brand of shulling-a-day impudence. + And, fourth and last, my brither: I'm no' needing your siller, and I can + manage to do fair weel without your conversation.” + </p> + <p> + As this bombardment proceeded, the sergeant's jaw dropped. When it was + finished he laughed heartily and slapped his knee. “Man, come an' brak + bread wi' me or I'll hae to brak yer stiff neck.” + </p> + <p> + A truce was declared over a cozy pot of tea, and the two became at least + temporary friends. It was such a day that the landlord would have gossiped + with a gaol bird; and when a soldier who has seen years of service, much + of it in strange lands, once admits a shopkeeper to equality, he can be + affable and entertaining “by the ordinar'.” Mr. Traill sketched Bobby's + story broadly, and to a sympathetic listener; and the soldier told the + landlord of the animals that had lived and died in the Castle. + </p> + <p> + Parrots and monkeys and strange dogs and cats had been brought there by + regiments returning from foreign countries and colonies. But most of the + pets had been native dogs—collies, spaniels and terriers, and + animals of mixed breeds and of no breed at all, but just good dogs. No one + knew when the custom began, but there was an old and well-filled cemetery + for the Castle pets. When a dog died a little stone was set up, with the + name of the animal and the regiment to which it had belonged on it. + Soldiers often went there among the tiny mounds and told stories of the + virtues and taking ways of old favorites. And visitors read the names of + Flora and Guy and Dandie, of Prince Charlie and Rob Roy, of Jeanie and + Bruce and Wattie. It was a merry life for a dog in the Castle. He was + petted and spoiled by homesick men, and when he died there were a thousand + mourners at his funeral. + </p> + <p> + “Put it to the bit Skye noo. If he tak's the Queen's shullin' he belongs + to the army.” The sergeant flipped a coin before Bobby, who was wagging + his tail and sniffing at the military boots with his ever lively interest + in soldiers. + </p> + <p> + He looked up at the tossed coin indifferently, and when it fell to the + floor he let it lie. “Siller” has no meaning to a dog. His love can be + purchased with nothing less than his chosen master's heart. The soldier + sighed at Bobby's indifference. He introduced himself as Sergeant Scott, + of the Royal Engineers, detailed from headquarters to direct the work in + the Castle crafts shops. Engineers rank high in pay and in consideration, + and it was no ordinary Jack of all trades who had expert knowledge of so + many skilled handicrafts. Mr. Traill's respect and liking for the man + increased with the passing moments. + </p> + <p> + As the sergeant departed he warned Mr. Traill, laughingly, that he meant + to kidnap Bobby the very first chance he got. The Castle pet had died, and + Bobby was altogether too good a dog to be wasted on a moldy auld kirkyard + and thrown on a dust-cart when he came to die. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Traill resented the imputation. “He'll no' be thrown on a dust-cart!” + </p> + <p> + The door was shut on the mocking retort “Hoo do ye ken he wullna?” + </p> + <p> + And there was food for gloomy reflection. The landlord could not know, in + truth, what Bobby's ultimate fate might be. But little over nine years of + age, he should live only five or six years longer at most. Of his friends, + Mr. Brown was ill and aging, and might have to give place to a younger + man. He himself was in his prime, but he could not be certain of living + longer than this hardy little dog. For the first time he realized the + truth of Dr. Lee's saying that everybody's dog was nobody's dog. The + tenement children held Bobby in a sort of community affection. He was the + special pet of the Heriot laddies, but a class was sent into the world + every year and was scattered far. Not one of all the hundreds of bairns + who had known and loved this little dog could give him any real care or + protection. + </p> + <p> + For the rest, Bobby had remained almost unknown. Many of the congregations + of old and new Greyfriars had never seen or heard of him. When strangers + were about he seemed to prefer lying in his retreat under the fallen tomb. + His Sunday-afternoon naps he usually took in the lodge kitchen. And so, it + might very well happen that his old age would be friendless, that he would + come to some forlorn end, and be carried away on the dustman's cart. It + might, indeed, be better for him to end his days in love and honor in the + Castle. But to this solution of the problem Mr. Traill himself was not + reconciled. + </p> + <p> + Sensing some shifting of the winds in the man's soul, Bobby trotted over + to lick his hand. Then he sat up on the hearth and lolled his tongue, + reminding the good landlord that he had one cheerful friend to bear him + company on the blaw-weary day. It was thus they sat, companionably, when a + Burgh policeman who was well known to Mr. Traill came in to dry himself by + the fire. Gloomy thoughts were dispelled at once by the instinct of + hospitality. + </p> + <p> + “You're fair wet, man. Pull a chair to the hearth. And you have a bit smut + on your nose, Davie.” + </p> + <p> + “It's frae the railway engine. Edinburgh was a reekie toon eneugh afore + the engines cam' in an' belched smuts in ilka body's faces.” The policeman + was disgusted and discouraged by three days of wet clothing, and he would + have to go out into the rain again before he got dry. Nothing occurred to + him to talk about but grievances. + </p> + <p> + “Did ye ken the Laird Provost, Maister Chambers, is intendin' to knock a + lang hole aboon the tap o' the Coogate wynds? It wull mak' a braid street + ye can leuk doon frae yer doorway here. The gude auld days gangin' doon in + a muckle dust!” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, the sun will peep into foul places it hasn't seen sin' Queen Mary's + day. And, Davie, it would be more according to the gude auld customs + you're so fond of to call Mr. William Chambers 'Glenormiston' for his bit + country place.” + </p> + <p> + “He's no' a laird.” + </p> + <p> + “Nae; but he'll be a laird the next time the Queen shows her bonny face + north o' the Tweed. Tak' 'a cup o' kindness' with me, man. Hot tay will + tak' the cauld out of vour disposeetion.” Mr. Traill pulled a bell-cord + and Ailie, unused as yet to bells, put her startled little face in at the + door to the scullery. At sight of the policeman she looked more than ever + like a scared rabbit, and her hands shook when she set the tray down + before him. A tenement child grew up in an atmosphere of hostility to + uniformed authority, which seldom appeared except to interfere with what + were considered personal affairs. + </p> + <p> + The tea mollified the dour man, but there was one more rumbling. “I'm no' + denyin' the Provost's gude-hearted. Ance he got up a hame for gaen-aboot + dogs, an' he had naethin' to mak' by that. But he canna keep 'is spoon oot + o' ilka body's porridge. He's fair daft to tear doon the wa's that cut St. + Giles up into fower, snod, white kirks, an' mak' it the ane muckle kirk it + was in auld Papist days. There are folk that say, gin he doesna leuk oot, + anither kale wifie wull be throwin' a bit stool at 'is meddlin' heid.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh, nae doubt. There's aye a plentifu' supply o' fules in the warld.” + </p> + <p> + Seeing his good friend so well entertained, and needing his society no + longer, Bobby got up, wagged his tail in farewell, and started toward the + door. Mr. Traill summoned the little maid and spoke to her kindly: “Give + Bobby a bone, lassie, and then open the door for him.” + </p> + <p> + In carrying out these instructions Ailie gave the policeman as wide leeway + as possible and kept a wary eye upon him. The officer's duties were + chiefly up on High Street. He seldom crossed the bridge, and it happened + that he had never seen Bobby before. Just by way of making conversation he + remarked, “I didna ken ye had a dog, John.” + </p> + <p> + Ailie stopped stock still, the cups on the tray she was taking out + tinkling from her agitation. It was thus policemen spoke at private doors + in the dark tenements: “I didna ken ye had the smallpox.” But Mr. Traill + seemed in no way alarmed. He answered with easy indulgence “That's no' + surprising. There's mony a thing you dinna ken, Davie.” + </p> + <p> + The landlord forgot the matter at once, but Ailie did not, for she saw the + officer flush darkly and, having no answer ready, go out in silence. In + truth, the good-humored sarcasm rankled in the policeman's breast. An hour + later he suddenly came to a standstill below the clock tower of the Tron + kirk on High Street, and he chuckled. + </p> + <p> + “Eh, John Traill. Ye're unco' weel furnished i' the heid, but there's ane + or twa things ye dinna ken yer ainsel'.” + </p> + <p> + Entirely taken up with his brilliant idea, he lost no time in putting it + to work. He dodged among the standing cabs and around the buttresses of + St. Giles that projected into the thoroughfare. In the mid-century there + was a police office in the middle of the front of the historic old + cathedral that had then fallen to its lowest ebb of fortune. There the + officer reported a matter that was strictly within the line of his duty. + </p> + <p> + Very early the next morning he was standing before the door of Mr. + Traill's place, in the fitful sunshine of clearing skies, when the + landlord appeared to begin the business of the day. + </p> + <p> + “Are ye Maister John Traill?” + </p> + <p> + “Havers, Davie! What ails you, man? You know my name as weel as you know + your ain.” + </p> + <p> + “It's juist a formality o' the law to mak' ye admit yer identity. Here's a + bit paper for ye.” He thrust an official-looking document into Mr. + Traill's hand and took himself away across the bridge, fair satisfied with + his conduct of an affair of subtlety. + </p> + <p> + It required five minutes for Mr. Traill to take in the import of the legal + form. Then a wrathful explosion vented itself on the unruly key that + persisted in dodging the keyhole. But once within he read the paper again, + put it away thoughtfully in an inner pocket, and outwardly subsided to his + ordinary aspect. He despatched the business of the day with unusual + attention to details and courtesy to guests, and when, in mid afternoon, + the place was empty, he followed Bobby to the kirkyard and inquired at the + lodge if he could see Mr. Brown. + </p> + <p> + “He isna so ill, noo, Maister Traill, but I wadna advise ye to hae muckle + to say to 'im.” Mistress Jeanie wore the arch look of the wifie who is + somewhat amused by a convalescent husband's ill humors. “The pains grupped + 'im sair, an' noo that he's easier he'd see us a' hanged wi' pleesure. Is + it onything by the ordinar'?” + </p> + <p> + “Nae. It's just a sma' matter I can attend to my ainsel'. Do you think he + could be out the morn?” + </p> + <p> + “No' afore a week or twa, an' syne, gin the bonny sun comes oot to bide a + wee.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Traill left the kirkyard and went out to George Square to call upon + the minister of Greyfriars auld kirk. The errand was unfruitful, and he + was back in ten minutes, to spend the evening alone, without even the + consolation of Bobby's company, for the little dog was unhappy outside the + kirkyard after sunset. And he took an unsettling thought to bed with him. + </p> + <p> + Here was a pretty kettle of fish, indeed, for a respected member of a kirk + and middle-aged business man to fry in. Through the legal verbiage Mr. + Traill made out that he was summoned to appear before whatever magistrate + happened to be sitting on the morrow in the Burgh court, to answer to the + charge of owning, or harboring, one dog, upon which he had not paid the + license tax of seven shillings. + </p> + <p> + For all its absurdity it was no laughing matter. The municipal court of + Edinburgh was of far greater dignity than the ordinary justice court of + the United Kingdom and of America. The civic bench was occupied, in turn, + by no less a personage than the Lord Provost as chief, and by five other + magistrates elected by the Burgh council from among its own membership. + Men of standing in business, legal and University circles, considered it + an honor and a duty to bring their knowledge and responsibility to bear on + the pettiest police cases. + </p> + <p> + It was morning before Mr. Traill had the glimmer of an idea to take with + him on this unlucky business. An hour before the opening of court he + crossed the bridge into High Street, which was then as picturesquely + Gothic and decaying and overpopulated as the Cowgate, but high-set, + wind-swept and sun-searched, all the way up the sloping mile from Holyrood + Palace to the Castle. The ridge fell away steeply, through rifts of wynds + and closes, to the Cowgate ravine on the one hand, and to Princes Street's + parked valley on the other. Mr. Traill turned into the narrow descent of + Warriston Close. Little more than a crevice in the precipice of tall, old + buildings, on it fronted a business house whose firm name was known + wherever the English language was read: “W. and R. Chambers, Publishers.” + </p> + <p> + From top to bottom the place was gas-lit, even on a sunny spring morning, + and it hummed and clattered with printing-presses. No one was in the + little anteroom to the editorial offices beside a young clerk, but at + sight of a red-headed, freckle-faced Heriot laddie of Bobby's puppyhood + days Mr. Traill's spirits rose. + </p> + <p> + “A gude day to you, Sandy McGregor; and whaur's your auld twin + conspirator, Geordie Ross?” + </p> + <p> + “He's a student in the Medical College, Mr. Traill. He went by this meenit + to the Botanical Garden for herbs my grandmither has aye known without + books.” Sandy grinned in appreciation of this foolishness, but he added, + with Scotch shrewdness, “It's gude for the book-prenting beesiness.” + </p> + <p> + “It is so,” the landlord agreed, heartily. “But you must no' be forgetting + that the Chambers brothers war book readers and sellers before they war + publishers. You are weel set up in life, laddie, and Heriot's has pulled + the warst of the burrs from your tongue. I'm wanting to see Glenormiston.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. William Chambers is no' in. Mr. Robert is aye in, but he's no' liking + to be fashed about sma' things.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll no' trouble him. It's the Lord Provost I'm wanting, on ofeecial + beesiness.” He requested Sandy to ask Glenormiston, if he came in, to come + over to the Burgh court and spier for Mr. Traill. + </p> + <p> + “It's no' his day to sit as magistrate, and he's no' like to go unless + it's a fair sairious matter.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, it is, laddie. It's a matter of life and death, I'm thinking!” He + smiled grimly, as it entered his head that he might be driven to do + violence to that meddling policeman. The yellow gas-light gave his face + such a sardonic aspect that Sandy turned pale. + </p> + <p> + “Wha's death, man?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Traill kept his own counsel, but at the door he turned: “You'll no' be + remembering the bittie terrier that lived in the kirkyard?” + </p> + <p> + The light of boyhood days broke in Sandy's grin. “Ay, I'll no' be + forgetting the sonsie tyke. He was a deil of a dog to tak' on a holiday. + Is he still faithfu' to his dead master?” + </p> + <p> + “He is that; and for his faithfu'ness he's like to be dead himsel'. The + police are takin' up masterless dogs an' putting them out o' the way. I'll + mak' a gude fight for Bobby in the Burgh court.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll fight with you, man.” The spirit of the McGregor clan, though much + diluted and subdued by town living, brought Sandy down from a three-legged + stool. He called another clerk to take his place, and made off to find the + Lord Provost, powerful friend of hameless dogs. Mr. Traill hastened down + to the Royal Exchange, below St. Giles and on the northern side of High + Street. + </p> + <p> + Less than a century old, this municipal building was modern among ancient + rookeries. To High Street it presented a classic front of four stories, + recessed by flanking wings, around three sides of a quadrangular + courtyard. Near the entrance there was a row of barber shops and + coffee-rooms. Any one having business with the city offices went through a + corridor between these places of small trade to the stairway court behind + them. On the floor above, one had to inquire of some uniformed attendant + in which of the oaken, ante-roomed halls the Burgh court was sitting. And + by the time one got there all the pride of civic history of the ancient + royal Burgh, as set forth in portrait and statue and a museum of + antiquities, was apt to take the lime out of the backbone of a man less + courageous than Mr. Traill. What a car of juggernaut to roll over one, + small, masterless terrier! + </p> + <p> + But presently the landlord found himself on his feet, and not so ill at + ease. A Scottish court, high or low, civil or criminal, had a flavor all + its own. Law points were threshed over with gusto, but counsel, client, + and witness gained many a point by ready wit, and there was no lack of dry + humor from the bench. About the Burgh court, for all its stately setting, + there was little formality. The magistrate of the day sat behind a tall + desk, with a clerk of record at his elbow, and the officer gave his + testimony briefly: Edinburgh being quite overrun by stray and unlicensed + dogs, orders had recently been given the Burgh police to report such + animals. In Mr. Traill's place he had seen a small terrier that appeared + to be at home there; and, indeed, on the dog's going out, Mr. Traill had + called a servant lassie to fetch a bone, and to open the door for him. He + noticed that the animal wore no collar, and felt it his duty to report the + matter. + </p> + <p> + By the time Mr. Traill was called to answer to the charge a number of + curious idlers had gathered on the back benches. He admitted his name and + address, but denied that he either owned or was harboring a dog. The + magistrate fixed a cold eye upon him, and asked if he meant to contradict + the testimony of the officer. + </p> + <p> + “Nae, your Honor; and he might have seen the same thing ony week-day of + the past eight and a half years. But the bit terrier is no' my ain dog.” + Suddenly, the memory of the stormy night, the sick old man and the pathos + of his renunciation of the only beating heart in the world that loved him—“Bobby + isna ma ain dog!” swept over the remorseful landlord. He was filled with a + fierce championship of the wee Highlander, whose loyalty to that dead + master had brought him to this strait. + </p> + <p> + To the magistrate Mr. Traill's tossed-up head had the effect of defiance, + and brought a sharp rebuke. “Don't split hairs, Mr. Traill. You are + wasting the time of the court. You admit feeding the dog. Who is his + master and where does he sleep?” + </p> + <p> + “His master is in his grave in auld Greyfriars kirkyard, and the dog has + aye slept there on the mound.” + </p> + <p> + The magistrate leaned over his desk. “Man, no dog could sleep in the open + for one winter in this climate. Are you fond of romancing, Mr. Traill?” + </p> + <p> + “No' so overfond, your Honor. The dog is of the subarctic breed of Skye + terriers, the kind with a thick under-jacket of fleece, and a weather + thatch that turns rain like a crofter's cottage roof.” + </p> + <p> + “There should be witnesses to such an extraordinary story. The dog could + not have lived in this strictly guarded churchyard without the consent of + those in authority.” The magistrate was plainly annoyed and skeptical, and + Mr. Traill felt the sting of it. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, the caretaker has been his gude friend, but Mr. Brown is ill of + rheumatism, and can no' come out. Nae doubt, if necessary, his deposeetion + could be tak'n. Permission for the bit dog to live in the kirkyard was + given by the meenister of Greyfriars auld kirk, but Doctor Lee is in + failing health and has gone to the south of France. The tenement children + and the Heriot laddies have aye made a pet of Bobby, but they would no' be + competent witnesses.” + </p> + <p> + “You should have counsel. There are some legal difficulties here.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm no' needing a lawyer. The law in sic a matter can no' be so + complicated, and I have a tongue in my ain head that has aye served me, + your Honor.” The magistrate smiled, and the spectators moved to the nearer + benches to enjoy this racy man. The room began to fill by that kind of + telepathy that causes crowds to gather around the human drama. One man + stood, unnoticed, in the doorway. Mr. Traill went on, quietly: “If the + court permits me to do so, I shall be glad to pay for Bobby's license, but + I'm thinking that carries responsibeelity for the bit dog.” + </p> + <p> + “You are quite right, Mr. Traill. You would have to assume responsibility. + Masterless dogs have become a serious nuisance in the city.” + </p> + <p> + “I could no' tak' responsibeelity. The dog is no' with me more than a + couple of hours out of the twenty-four. I understand that most of his time + is spent in the kirkyard, in weel-behaving, usefu' ways, but I could no' + be sure.” + </p> + <p> + “But why have you fed him for so many years? Was his master a friend?” + </p> + <p> + “Nae, just a customer, your Honor; a simple auld shepherd who ate his + market-day dinner in my place. He aye had the bit dog with him, and I was + the last man to see the auld body before he went awa' to his meeserable + death in a Cowgate wynd. Bobby came to me, near starved, to be fed, two + days after his master's burial. I was tak'n by the wee Highlander's leal + spirit.” + </p> + <p> + And that was all the landlord would say. He had no mind to wear his heart + upon his sleeve for this idle crowd to gape at. + </p> + <p> + After a moment the magistrate spoke warmly: “It appears, then, that the + payment of the license could not be accepted from you. Your humanity is + commendable, Mr. Traill, but technically you are in fault. The minimum + fine should be imposed and remitted.” + </p> + <p> + At this utterly unlooked-for conclusion Mr. Traill seemed to gather his + lean shoulders together for a spring, and his gray eyes narrowed to + blades. + </p> + <p> + “With due respect to your Honor, I must tak' an appeal against sic a + deceesion, to the Lord Provost and a' the magistrates, and then to the + Court of Sessions.” + </p> + <p> + “You would get scant attention, Mr. Traill. The higher judiciary have more + important business than reviewing dog cases. You would be laughed out of + court.” + </p> + <p> + The dry tone stung him to instant retort. “And in gude company I'd be. + Fifty years syne Lord Erskine was laughed down in Parliament for proposing + to give legal protection to dumb animals. But we're getting a bit more + ceevilized.” + </p> + <p> + “Tut, tut, Mr. Traill, you are making far too much of a small matter.” + </p> + <p> + “It's no' a sma' matter to be entered in the records of the Burgh court as + a petty law-breaker. And if I continued to feed the dog I would be in + contempt of court.” + </p> + <p> + The magistrate was beginning to feel badgered. “The fine carries the + interdiction with it, Mr. Traill, if you are asking for information.” + </p> + <p> + “It was no' for information, but just to mak' plain my ain line of + conduct. I'm no' intending to abandon the dog. I am commended here for my + humanity, but the bit dog I must let starve for a technicality.” + Instantly, as the magistrate half rose from the bench, the landlord saw + that he had gone too far, and put the court on the defensive. In an easy, + conversational tone, as if unaware of the point he had scored, he asked if + he might address his accuser on a personal matter. “We knew each other + weel as laddies. Davie, when you're in my neeborhood again on a wet day, + come in and dry yoursel' by my fire and tak' another cup o' kindness for + auld lang syne. You'll be all the better man for a lesson in morals the + bit dog can give you: no' to bite the hand that feeds you.” + </p> + <p> + The policeman turned purple. A ripple of merriment ran through the room. + The magistrate put his hand up to his mouth, and the clerk began to drop + pens. Before silence was restored a messenger laddie ran up with a note + for the bench. The magistrate read it with a look of relief, and nodded to + the man who had been listening from the doorway, but who disappeared at + once. + </p> + <p> + “The case is ordered continued. The defendant will be given time to secure + witnesses, and notified when to appear. The next case is called.” + </p> + <p> + Somewhat dazed by this sudden turn, and annoyed by the delayed settlement + of the affair, Mr. Traill hastened from the court-room. As he gained the + street he was overtaken by the messenger with a second note. And there was + a still more surprising turn that sent the landlord off up swarming High + Street, across the bridge, and on to his snug little place of business, + with the face and the heart of a school-boy. When Bobby, draggled by three + days of wet weather, came in for his dinner, Mr. Traill scanned him + critically and in some perplexity. At the end of the day's work, as Ailie + was dropping her quaint curtsy and giving her adored employer a shy “gude + nicht,” he had a sudden thought that made him call her back. + </p> + <p> + “Did you ever give a bit dog a washing, lassie?” + </p> + <p> + “Ye mean Bobby, Maister Traill? Nae, I didna.” Her eyes sparkled. “But + Tammy's hauded 'im for Maister Brown, an' he says it's sonsie to gie the + bonny wee a washin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Weel, Mr. Brown is fair ill, and there has been foul weather. Bobby's + getting to look like a poor 'gaen aboot' dog. Have him at the kirkyard + gate at a quarter to eight o'clock the morn looking like a leddy's pet and + I'll dance a Highland fling at your wedding.” + </p> + <p> + “Are ye gangin' to tak' Bobby on a picnic, Maister Traill?” + </p> + <p> + He answered with a mock solemnity and a twinkle in his eyes that mystified + the little maid. “Nae, lassie; I'm going to tak' him to a meeting in a + braw kirk.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX + </h2> + <p> + When Ailie wanted to get up unusually early in the morning she made use of + Tammy for an alarm-clock. A crippled laddie who must “mak' 'is leevin' wi' + 'is heid” can waste no moment of daylight, and in the ancient buildings + around Greyfriars the maximum of daylight was to be had only by those able + and willing to climb to the gables. Tammy, having to live on the lowest, + darkest floor of all, used the kirkyard for a study, by special indulgence + of the caretaker, whenever the weather permitted. + </p> + <p> + From a window he dropped his books and his crutches over the wall. Then, + by clasping his arms around a broken shaft that blocked the casement, he + swung himself out, and scrambled down into an enclosed vault yard. There + he kept hidden Mistress Jeanie's milking stool for a seat; and a + table-tomb served as well, for the laddie to do his sums upon, as it had + for the tearful signing of the Covenant more than two hundred years + before. Bobby, as host, greeted Tammy with cordial friskings and waggings, + saw him settled to his tasks, and then went briskly about his own + interrupted business of searching out marauders. Many a spring dawn the + quiet little boy and the swift and silent little dog had the shadowy + garden all to themselves, and it was for them the song-thrushes and + skylarks gave their choicest concerts. + </p> + <p> + On that mid-April morning, when the rising sun gilded the Castle turrets + and flashed back from the many beautiful windows of Heriot's Hospital, + Tammy bundled his books under the table-tomb of Mistress Jean Grant, went + over to the rear of the Guildhall at the top of the Row, and threw a + handful of gravel up to Ailie's window. Because of a grandmither, Ailie, + too, dwelt on a low level. Her eager little face, lighted by sleep-dazzled + blue eyes, popped out with the surprising suddenness of the manikins in a + Punch-and-Judy show. + </p> + <p> + “In juist ane meenit, Tammy,” she whispered, “no' to wauken the + grandmither.” It was in so very short a minute that the lassie climbed out + onto the classic pediment of a tomb and dropped into the kirkyard that her + toilet was uncompleted. Tammy buttoned her washed-out cotton gown at the + back, and she sat on a slab to lace her shoes. If the fun of giving Bobby + his bath was to be enjoyed to the full there must be no unnecessary delay. + This consideration led Tammy to observe: + </p> + <p> + “Ye're no' needin' to comb yer hair, Ailie. It leuks bonny eneugh.” + </p> + <p> + In truth, Ailie was one of those fortunate lassies whose crinkly, + gold-brown mop really looked best when in some disorder; and of that + advantage the little maid was well aware. + </p> + <p> + “I ken a' that, Tammy. I aye gie it a lick or twa wi' a comb the nicht + afore. Ca' the wee doggie.” + </p> + <p> + Bobby fully understood that he was wanted for some serious purpose, but it + was a fresh morning of dew and he, apparently, was in the highest of + spirits. So he gave Ailie a chase over the sparkling grass and under the + showery shrubbery. When he dropped at last on Auld Jock's grave Tammy + captured him. The little dog could always be caught there, in a caressable + state of exhaustion or meditation, for, sooner or later, he returned to + the spot from every bit of work or play. No one would have known it for a + place of burial at all. Mr. Brown knew it only by the rose bush at its + head and by Bobby's haunting it, for the mound had sunk to the general + level of the terrace on which it lay, and spreading crocuses poked their + purple and gold noses through the crisp spring turf. But for the wee, + guardian dog the man who lay beneath had long lost what little identity he + had ever possessed. + </p> + <p> + Now, as the three lay there, the lassie as flushed and damp as some + water-nymph, Bobby panting and submitting to a petting, Tammy took the + little dog's muzzle between his thin hands, parted the veil, and looked + into the soft brown eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Leak, Ailie, Bobby's wantin' somethin', an' is juist haudin' 'imsel'.” + </p> + <p> + It was true. For all his gaiety in play and his energy at work Bobby's + eyes had ever a patient, wistful look, not unlike the crippled laddie's. + Ah, who can say that it did not require as much courage and gallant + bravado on the part of that small, bereft creature to enable him to live + at all, as it did for Tammy to face his handicapped life and “no' to + remember 'is bad legs”? + </p> + <p> + In the bath on the rear steps of the lodge Bobby swam and splashed, and + scattered foam with his excited tail. He would not stand still to be + groomed, but wriggled and twisted and leaped upon the children, putting + his shaggy wet paws roguishly in their faces. But he stood there at last, + after the jolliest romp, in which the old kirkyard rang with laughter, and + oh! so bonny, in his rippling coat of dark silver. No sooner was he + released than he dashed around the kirk and back again, bringing his + latest bone in his mouth. To his scratching on the stone sill, for he had + been taught not to scratch on the panel, the door was opened by snod and + smiling Mistress Jeanie, who invited these slum bairns into such a cozy, + spotless kitchen as was not possible in the tenements. Mr. Brown sat by + the hearth, bundled in blue and white blankets of wonderfully blocked + country weaving. Bobby put his fore paws on the caretaker's chair and laid + his precious bone in the man's lap. + </p> + <p> + “Eh, ye takin' bit rascal; loup!” Bobby jumped to the patted knee, turned + around and around on the soft bed that invited him, licked the beaming old + face to show his sympathy and friendliness, and jumped down again. Mr. + Brown sighed because Bobby steadily but amiably refused to be anybody's + lap-dog. The caretaker turned to the admiring children. + </p> + <p> + “Ilka morn he fetches 'is bit bane up, thinkin' it a braw giftie for an + ill man. An' syne he veesits me twa times i' the day, juist bidin' a wee + on the hearthstane, lollin' 'is tongue an' waggin' 'is tail, + cheerfu'-like. Bobby has mair gude sense in 'is heid than mony a man wha + comes ben the hoose, wi' a lang face, to let me ken I'm gangin' to dee. + Gin I keep snug an' canny it wullna gang to the heart. Jeanie, woman, + fetch ma fife, wull ye?” + </p> + <p> + Then there were strange doings in the kirkyard lodge. James Brown “wasna + gangin' to dee” before his time came, at any rate. In his youth, as + under-gardener on a Highland estate, he had learned to play the piccolo + flute, and lately he had revived the pastoral art of piping just because + it went so well with Bobby's delighted legs. To the sonsie air of “Bonnie + Dundee” Bobby hopped and stepped and louped, and he turned about on his + hind feet, his shagged fore paws drooped on his breast as daintily as the + hands in the portraits of early Victorian ladies. The fire burned cheerily + in the polished grate, and winked on every shining thing in the room; + primroses bloomed in the diamond-paned casement; the skylark fluttered up + and sang in its cage; the fife whistled as gaily as a blackbird, and the + little dog danced with a comic clumsiness that made them all double up + with laughter. The place was so full of brightness, and of kind and merry + hearts, that there was room for nothing else. Not one of them dreamed that + the shadow of the law was even then over this useful and lovable little + dog's head. + </p> + <p> + A glance at the wag-at-the-wa' clock reminded Ailie that Mr. Traill might + be waiting for Bobby. + </p> + <p> + Curious about the mystery, the children took the little dog down to the + gate, happily. They were sobered, however, when Mr. Traill appeared, + looking very grand in his Sabbath clothes. He inspected Bobby all over + with anxious scrutiny, and gave each of the bairns a threepenny-bit, but + he had no blithe greeting for them. Much preoccupied, he went off at once, + with the animated little muff of a dog at his heels. In truth, Mr. Traill + was thinking about how he might best plead Bobby's cause with the Lord + Provost. The note that was handed him, on leaving the Burgh court the day + before, had read: + </p> + <p> + “Meet me at the Regent's Tomb in St. Giles at eight o'clock in the + morning, and bring the wee Highlander with you.—Glenormiston.” + </p> + <p> + On the first reading the landlord's spirits had risen, out of all + proportion to the cause, owing to his previous depression. But, after all, + the appointment had no official character, since the Regent's Tomb in St. + Giles had long been a sort of town pump for the retailing of gossip and + for the transaction of trifling affairs of all sorts. The fate of this + little dog was a small matter, indeed, and so it might be thought fitting, + by the powers that be, that it should be decided at the Regent's Tomb + rather than in the Burgh court. + </p> + <p> + To the children, who watched from the kirkyard gate until Mr. Traill and + Bobby were hidden by the buildings on the bridge, it was no' canny. The + busy landlord lived mostly in shirt-sleeves and big white apron, ready to + lend a hand in the rush hours, and he never was known to put on his black + coat and tall hat on a week-day, except to attend a funeral. However, + there was the day's work to be done. Tammy had a lesson still to get, and + returned to the kirkyard, and Ailie ran up to the dining-rooms. On the + step she collided with a red headed, freckle-faced young man who asked for + Mr. Traill. + </p> + <p> + “He isna here.” The shy lassie was made almost speechless by recognizing, + in this neat, well-spoken clerk, an old Heriot boy, once as poor as + herself. + </p> + <p> + “Do you wark for him, lassie? Weel, do you know how he cam' out in the + Burgh court about the bit dog?” + </p> + <p> + There was only one “bit dog” in the world to Ailie. Wild eyed with alarm + at mention of the Burgh court, in connection with that beloved little pet, + she stammered: “It's—it's—no' a coort he gaed to. Maister + Traill's tak'n Bobby awa' to a braw kirk.” + </p> + <p> + Sandy nodded his head. “Ay, that would be the police office in St. Giles. + Lassie, tell Mr. Traill I sent the Lord Provost, and if he's needing a + witness to ca' on Sandy McGregor.” + </p> + <p> + Ailie stared after him with frightened eyes. Into her mind flashed that + ominous remark of the policeman two days before: “I didna ken ye had a + dog, John?” She overtook Sandy in front of the sheriff's court on the + bridge. + </p> + <p> + “What—what hae the police to do wi' bittie dogs?” + </p> + <p> + “If a dog has nae master to pay for his license the police can tak' him up + and put him out o' the way.” + </p> + <p> + “Hoo muckle siller are they wantin'?” + </p> + <p> + “Seven shullings. Gude day, lassie; I'm fair late.” Sandy was not really + alarmed about Bobby since the resourceful Mr. Traill had taken up his + cause, and he had no idea of the panic of grief and fright that + overwhelmed this forlorn child. + </p> + <p> + Seven shullings! It was an enormous sum to the tenement bairn, whose + half-blind grandmither knitted and knitted in a dimly lighted room, and + hoarded halfpennies and farthings to save herself from pauper burial. + Seven shullings would pay a month's rent for any one of the crowded rooms + in which a family lived. Ailie herself, an untrained lassie who scarcely + knew the use of a toasting-fork, was overpaid by generous Mr. Traill at + sixpence a day. Seven shullings to permit one little dog to live! It did + not occur to Ailie that this was a sum Mr. Traill could easily pay. No' + onybody at all had seven shullings all at once! But, oh! everybody had + pennies and halfpennies and farthings, and she and Tammy together had a + sixpence. + </p> + <p> + Darting back to the gate, to catch the laddie before he could be off to + school, she ran straight into the policeman, who stood with his hand on + the wicket. He eyed her sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Eh, lassie, I was gangin' to spier at the lodge, gin there's a bit dog + leevin' i' the kirkyaird.” + </p> + <p> + “I—I—dinna ken.” Her voice was unmanageable. She had left to + her only the tenement-bred instinct of concealment of any and all facts + from an officer of the law. + </p> + <p> + “Ye dinna ken! Maister Traill said i' the coort a' the bairns aboot kenned + the dog. Was he leein'?” + </p> + <p> + The question stung her into angry admission. “He wadna be leein'. But—but—the + bittie—dog—isna here noo.” + </p> + <p> + “Syne, whaur is he? Oot wi' it!” + </p> + <p> + “I—dinna—ken!” She cowered in abject fear against the wall. + She could not know that this officer was suffering a bad attack of shame + for his shabby part in the affair. Satisfied that the little dog really + did live in the kirkyard, he turned back to the bridge. When Tammy came + out presently he found Ailie crumpled up in a limp little heap in the + gateway alcove. In a moment the tale of Bobby's peril was told. The laddie + dropped his books and his crutches on the pavement, and his head in his + helpless arms, and cried. He had small faith in Ailie's suddenly conceived + plan to collect the seven shullings among the dwellers in the tenements. + </p> + <p> + “Do ye ken hoo muckle siller seven shullin's wad be? It's auchty-fower + pennies, a hundred an' saxty-aucht ha'pennies an'—an'—I canna + think hoo mony farthings.” + </p> + <p> + “I dinna care a bittie bit. There's mair folk aroond the kirkyaird than + there's farthings i' twa, three times seven shullin's. An' maist ilka body + kens Bobby. An' we hae a saxpence atween us noo.” + </p> + <p> + “Maister Brown wad gie us anither saxpence gin he had ane,” Tammy + suggested, wistfully. + </p> + <p> + “Nae, he's fair ill. Gin he doesna keep canny it wull gang to 'is heart. + He'd be aff 'is heid, aboot Bobby. Oh, Tammy, Maister Traill gaed to gie + 'im up! He was wearin' a' 'is gude claes an' a lang face, to gang to + Bobby's buryin'.” + </p> + <p> + This dreadful thought spurred them to instant action. By way of mutual + encouragement they went together through the sculptured doorway, that bore + the arms of the ancient guild of the candlemakers on the lintel, and into + the carting office on the front. + </p> + <p> + “Do ye ken Greyfriars Bobby?” Tammy asked, timidly, of the man in charge. + </p> + <p> + He glowered at the laddie and shook his head. “Havers, mannie; there's no' + onybody named for an auld buryin' groond.” + </p> + <p> + The children fled. There was no use at all in wasting time on folk who did + not know Bobby, for it would take too long to explain him. But, alas, they + soon discovered that “maist ilka body” did not know the little dog, as + they had so confidently supposed. He was sure to be known only in the + rooms at the rear that overlooked the kirkyard, and, as one went upward, + his identity became less and less distinct. He was such a wee, wee, canny + terrier, and so many of the windows had their views constantly shut out by + washings. Around the inner courts, where unkempt women brought every sort + of work out to the light on the galleries and mended worthless rags, + gossiped, and nursed their babies on the stairs, Bobby had sometimes been + heard of, but almost never seen. Children often knew him where their + elders did not. By the time Ailie and Tammy had worked swiftly down to the + bottom of the Row other children began to follow them, moved by the peril + of the little dog to sympathy and eager sacrifice. + </p> + <p> + “Bide a wee, Ailie!” cried one, running to overtake the lassie. “Here's a + penny. I was gangin' for milk for the porridge. We can do wi'oot the day.” + </p> + <p> + And there was the money for the broth bone, and the farthing that would + have filled the gude-man's evening pipe, and the ha'penny for the + grandmither's tea. It was the world-over story of the poor helping the + poor. The progress of Ailie and Tammy through the tenements was like that + of the piper through Hamelin. The children gathered and gathered, and + followed at their heels, until a curiously quiet mob of threescore or more + crouched in the court of the old hall of the Knights of St. John, in the + Grassmarket, to count the many copper coins in Tammy's woolen bonnet. + </p> + <p> + “Five shullin's, ninepence, an' a ha'penny,” Tammy announced. And then, + after calculation on his fingers, “It'll tak' a shullin' an' twapenny + ha'penny mair.” + </p> + <p> + There was a gasping breath of bitter disappointment, and one wee laddie + wailed for lost Bobby. At that Ailie dashed the tears from her own eyes + and sprang up, spurred to desperate effort. She would storm the all but + hopeless attic chambers. Up the twisting turnpike stairs on the outer wall + she ran, to where the swallows wheeled about the cornices, and she could + hear the iron cross of the Knights Templars creak above the gable. Then, + all the way along a dark passage, at one door after another, she knocked, + and cried, + </p> + <p> + “Do ye ken Greyfriars Bobby?” + </p> + <p> + At some of the doors there was no answer. At others students stared out at + the bairn, not in the least comprehending this wild crying. Tears of anger + and despair flooded the little maid's blue eyes when she beat on the last + door of the row with her doubled fist. + </p> + <p> + “Do ye ken Greyfriars Bobby? The police are gangin' to mak' 'im be deid—” + As the door was flung open she broke into stormy weeping. + </p> + <p> + “Hey, lassie. I know the dog. What fashes you?” + </p> + <p> + There stood a tall student, a wet towel about his head, and, behind him, + the rafters of the dormer-lighted closet were as thickly hung with bunches + of dried herbs from the Botanical Garden as any auld witch wife's kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, are ye kennin' 'im? Isna he bonny an' sonsie? Gie me the shullin' an' + twapenny ha' penny we're needin', so the police wullna put 'im awa'.” + </p> + <p> + “Losh! It's a license you're wanting? I wish I had as many shullings as + I've had gude times with Bobby, and naething to pay for his braw company.” + </p> + <p> + For this was Geordie Ross, going through the Medical College with the help + of Heriot's fund that, large as it was, was never quite enough for all the + poor and ambitious youths of Edinburgh. And so, although provided for in + all necessary ways, his pockets were nearly as empty as of old. He could + spare a sixpence if he made his dinner on a potato and a smoked herring. + That he was very willing to do, once he had heard the tale, and he went + with Ailie to the lodgings of other students, and demanded their siller + with no explanation at all. + </p> + <p> + “Give the lassie what you can spare, man, or I'll have to give you a + licking,” was his gay and convincing argument, from door to door, until + the needed amount was made up. Ailie fled recklessly down the stairs, and + cried triumphantly to the upward-looking, silent crowd that had grown and + grown around Tammy, like some host of children crusaders. + </p> + <p> + While Ailie and Tammy were collecting the price of his ransom Bobby was + exploring the intricately cut-up interior of old St. Giles, sniffing at + the rifts in flimsily plastered partitions that the Lord Provost pointed + out to Mr. Traill. Rats were in those crumbling walls. If there had been a + hole big enough to admit him, the plucky little dog would have gone in + after them. Forbidden to enlarge one, Bobby could only poke his indignant + muzzle into apertures, and brace himself as for a fray. And, at the very + smell of him, there were such squeakings and scamperings in hidden runways + as to be almost beyond a terrier's endurance. The Lord Provost watched him + with an approving eye. + </p> + <p> + “When these partitions are tak'n down Bobby would be vera useful in + ridding our noble old cathedral of vermin. But that will not be in this + wee Highlander's day nor, I fear, in mine.” About the speech of this + Peebles man, who had risen from poverty to distinction, learning, wealth, + and many varieties of usefulness, there was still an engaging burr. And + his manner was so simple that he put the humblest at his ease. + </p> + <p> + There had been no formality about the meeting at all. Glenormiston was + standing in a rear doorway of the cathedral near the Regent's Tomb, + looking out into the sunny square of Parliament Close, when Mr. Traill and + Bobby appeared. Near seventy, at that time, a backward sweep of white hair + and a downward flow of square-cut, white beard framed a boldly featured + face and left a generous mouth uncovered. + </p> + <p> + “Gude morning, Mr. Traill. So that is the famous dog that has stood + sentinel for more than eight years. He should be tak'n up to the Castle + and shown to young soldiers who grumble at twenty-four hours' guard duty. + How do you do, sir!” The great man, whom the Queen knighted later, and + whom the University he was too poor to attend as a lad honored with a + degree, stooped from the Regent's Tomb and shook Bobby's lifted paw with + grave courtesy. Then, leaving the little dog to entertain himself, he + turned easily to his own most absorbing interest of the moment. + </p> + <p> + “Do you happen to care for Edinburgh antiquities, Mr. Traill? Reformation + piety made sad havoc of art everywhere. Man, come here!” + </p> + <p> + Down into the lime dust the Lord Provost and the landlord went, in their + good black clothes, for a glimpse of a bit of sculpturing on a tomb that + had been walled in to make a passage. A loose brick removed, behind and + above it, the sun flashed through fragments of emerald and ruby glass of a + saint's robe, in a bricked up window. Such buried and forgotten treasure, + Glenormiston explained, filled the entire south transept. In the High + Kirk, that then filled the eastern end of the cathedral, they went up a + cheap wooden stairway, to the pew-filled gallery that was built into the + old choir, and sat down. Mr. Traill's eyes sparkled. Glenormiston was a + man after his own heart, and they were getting along famously; but, oh! it + began to seem more and more unlikely that a Lord Provost, who was + concerned about such braw things as the restoration of the old cathedral + and letting the sun into the ancient tenements, should be much interested + in a small, masterless dog. + </p> + <p> + “Man, auld John Knox will turn over in his bit grave in Parliament Close + if you put a 'kist o' whustles' in St. Giles.” Mr. Traill laughed. + </p> + <p> + “I admit I might have stopped short of the organ but for the courageous + example of Doctor Lee in Greyfriars. It was from him that I had a quite + extravagant account of this wee, leal Highlander a few years ago. I have + aye meant to go to see him; but I'm a busy man and the matter passed out + of mind. Mr. Traill, I'm your sadly needed witness: I heard you from the + doorway of the court-room, and I sent up a note confirming your story and + asking, as a courtesy, that the case be turned over to me for some + exceptional disposal. Would you mind telling another man the tale that so + moved Doctor Lee? I've aye had a fondness for the human document.” + </p> + <p> + So there, above the pulpit of the High Kirk of St. Giles, the tale was + told again, so strangely did this little dog's life come to be linked with + the highest and lowest, the proudest and humblest in the Scottish capital. + Now, at mention of Auld Jock, Bobby put his shagged paws up inquiringly on + the edge of the pew, so that Mr. Traill lifted him. He lay down flat + between the two men, with his nose on his paws, and his little tousled + head under the Lord Provost's hand. + </p> + <p> + Auld Jock lived again in that recital. Glenormiston, coming from the + country of the Ettrick shepherd, knew such lonely figures, and the pathos + of old age and waning powers that drove them in to the poor quarters of + towns. There was pictured the stormy night and the simple old man who + sought food and shelter, with the devoted little dog that “wasna 'is ain.” + Sick unto death he was, and full of ignorant prejudices and fears that + needed wise handling. And there was the well-meaning landlord's blunder, + humbly confessed, and the obscure and tragic result of it, in a foul and + swarming rookery “juist aff the Coogate.” + </p> + <p> + “Man, it was Bobby that told me of his master's condition. He begged me to + help Auld Jock, and what did I do but let my fule tongue wag about + doctors. I nae more than turned my back than the auld body was awa' to his + meeserable death. It has aye eased my conscience a bit to feed the dog.” + </p> + <p> + “That's not the only reason why you have fed him.” There was a twinkle in + the Lord Provost's eye, and Mr. Traill blushed. + </p> + <p> + “Weel, I'll admit to you that I'm fair fulish about Bobby. Man, I've + courted that sma' terrier for eight and a half years. He's as polite and + friendly as the deil, but he'll have naething to do with me or with + onybody. I wonder the intelligent bit doesn't bite me for the ill turn I + did his master.” + </p> + <p> + Then there was the story of Bobby's devotion to Auld Jock's memory to be + told—the days when he faced starvation rather than desert that + grave, the days when he lay cramped under the fallen table-tomb, and his + repeated, dramatic escapes from the Pentland farm. His never broken + silence in the kirkyard was only to be explained by the unforgotten orders + of his dead master. His intelligent effort to make himself useful to the + caretaker had won indulgence. His ready obedience, good temper, high + spirits and friendliness had made him the special pet of the tenement + children and the Heriot laddies. At the very last Mr. Traill repeated the + talk he had had with the non-commissioned officer from the Castle, and + confessed his own fear of some forlorn end for Bobby. It was true he was + nobody's dog; and he was fascinated by soldiers and military music, and + so, perhaps— + </p> + <p> + “I'll no' be reconciled to parting—Eh, man, that's what Auld Jock + himsel' said when he was telling me that the bit dog must be returned to + the sheep-farm: 'It wull be sair partin'.'” Tears stood in the unashamed + landlord's eyes. + </p> + <p> + Glenormiston was pulling Bobby's silkily fringed ears thoughtfully. + Through all this talk about his dead master the little dog had not + stirred. For the second time that day Bobby's veil was pushed back, first + by the most unfortunate laddie in the decaying tenements about Greyfriars, + and now by the Lord Provost of the ancient royal burgh and capital of + Scotland. And both made the same discovery. Deep-brown pools of love, + young Bobby's eyes had dwelt upon Auld Jock. Pools of sad memories they + were now, looking out wistfully and patiently upon a masterless world. + </p> + <p> + “Are you thinking he would be reconciled to be anywhere away from that + grave? Look, man!” + </p> + <p> + “Lord forgive me! I aye thought the wee doggie happy enough.” + </p> + <p> + After a moment the two men went down the gallery stairs in silence. Bobby + dropped from the bench and fell into a subdued trot at their heels. As + they left the cathedral by the door that led into High Street Glenormiston + remarked, with a mysterious smile: + </p> + <p> + “I'm thinking Edinburgh can do better by wee Bobby than to banish him to + the Castle. But wait a bit, man. A kirk is not the place for settling a + small dog's affairs.” + </p> + <p> + The Lord Provost led the way westward along the cathedral's front. On High + Street, St. Giles had three doorways. The middle door then gave admittance + to the police office; the western opened into the Little Kirk, popularly + known as Haddo's Hole. It was into this bare, whitewashed chapel that + Glenormiston turned to get some restoration drawings he had left on the + pulpit. He was explaining them to Mr. Traill when he was interrupted by a + murmur and a shuffle, as of many voices and feet, and an odd + tap-tap-tapping in the vestibule. + </p> + <p> + Of all the doorways on the north and south fronts of St. Giles the one to + the Little Kirk was nearest the end of George IV Bridge. Confused by the + vast size and imposing architecture of the old cathedral, these slum + children, in search of the police office, went no farther, but ventured + timidly into the open vestibule of Haddo's Hole. Any doubts they might + have had about this being the right place were soon dispelled. Bobby heard + them and darted out to investigate. And suddenly they were all inside, + overwrought Ailie on the floor, clasping the little dog and crying + hysterically. + </p> + <p> + “Bobby's no' deid! Bobby's no' deid! Oh, Maister Traill, ye wullna hae to + gie 'im up to the police! Tammy's got the seven shullin's in 'is bonnet!” + </p> + <p> + And there was small Tammy, crutches dropped and pouring that offering of + love and mercy out at the foot of an altar in old St. Giles. Such an + astonishing pile of copper coins it was, that it looked to the landlord + like the loot of some shopkeeper's change drawer. + </p> + <p> + “Eh, puir laddie, whaur did ye get it a' noo?” he asked, gravely. + </p> + <p> + Tammy was very self-possessed and proud. “The bairnies aroond the + kirkyaird gie'd it to pay the police no' to mak' Bobby be deid.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Traill flashed a glance at Glenormiston. It was a look at once of + triumph and of humility over the Herculean deed of these disinherited + children. But the Lord Provost was gazing at that crowd of pale bairns, + products of the Old Town's ancient slums, and feeling, in his own person, + the civic shame of it. And he was thinking, thinking, that he must hasten + that other project nearest his heart, of knocking holes in solid rows of + foul cliffs, in the Cowgate, on High Street, and around Greyfriars. It was + an incredible thing that such a flower of affection should have bloomed so + sweetly in such sunless cells. And it was a new gospel, at that time, that + a dog or a horse or a bird might have its mission in this world of making + people kinder and happier. + </p> + <p> + They were all down on the floor, in the space before the altar, unwashed, + uncombed, unconscious of the dirty rags that scarce covered them; quite + happy and self-forgetful in the charming friskings and friendly lollings + of the well-fed, carefully groomed, beautiful little dog. Ailie, still so + excited that she forgot to be shy, put Bobby through his pretty tricks. He + rolled over and over, he jumped, he danced to Tammy's whistling of “Bonnie + Dundee,” he walked on his hind legs and louped at a bonnet, he begged, he + lifted his short shagged paw and shook hands. Then he sniffed at the heap + of coins, looked up inquiringly at Mr. Traill, and, concluding that here + was some property to be guarded, stood by the “siller” as stanchly as a + soldier. It was just pure pleasure to watch him. + </p> + <p> + Very suddenly the Lord Provost changed his mind. A sacred kirk was the + very best place of all to settle this little dog's affairs. The offering + of these children could not be refused. It should lie there, below the + altar, and be consecrated to some other blessed work; and he would do now + and here what he had meant to do elsewhere and in a quite different way. + He lifted Bobby to the pulpit so that all might see him, and he spoke so + that all might understand. + </p> + <p> + “Are ye kennin' what it is to gie the freedom o' the toon to grand folk?” + </p> + <p> + “It's—it's when the bonny Queen comes an' ye gie her the keys to the + burgh gates that are no' here ony mair.” Tammy, being in Heriot's, was a + laddie of learning. + </p> + <p> + “Weel done, laddie. Lang syne there was a wa' aroond Edinburgh wi' gates + in it.” Oh yes, all these bairnies knew that, and the fragment of it that + was still to be seen outside and above the Grassmarket, with its sentry + tower by the old west port. “Gin a fey king or ither grand veesitor cam', + the Laird Provost an' the maigestrates gied 'im the keys so he could gang + in an' oot at 'is pleesure. The wa's are a' doon noo, an' the gates no' + here ony mair, but we hae the keys, an' we mak' a show o' gien' 'em to + veesitors wha are vera grand or wise or gude, or juist usefu' by the + ordinar'.” + </p> + <p> + “Maister Gladstane,” said Tammy. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, we honor the Queen's meenisters; an' Miss Nightingale, wha nursed the + soldiers i' the war; an' Leddy Burdett-Coutts, wha gies a' her siller an' + a' her heart to puir folk an' is aye kind to horses and dogs an' singin' + birdies; an' we gie the keys to heroes o' the war wha are brave an' + faithfu'. An' noo, there's a wee bit beastie. He's weel-behavin', an' isna + makin' a blatterin' i' an auld kirkyaird. He aye minds what he's bidden to + do. He's cheerfu' an' busy, keepin' the proolin' pussies an' vermin frae + the sma' birdies i' the nests. He mak's friends o' ilka body, an' he's + faithfu'. For a deid man he lo'ed he's gaun hungry; an' he hasna forgotten + 'im or left 'im by 'is lane at nicht for mair years than some o' ye are + auld. An' gin ye find 'im lyin' canny, an' ye tak' a keek into 'is bonny + brown een, ye can see he's aye greetin'. An' so, ye didna ken why, but ye + a' lo'ed the lanely wee—” + </p> + <p> + “Bobby!” It was an excited breath of a word from the wide-eyed bairns. + </p> + <p> + “Bobby! Havers! A bittie dog wadna ken what to do wi' keys.” + </p> + <p> + But Glenormiston was smiling, and these sharp witted slum bairns exchanged + knowing glances. “Whaur's that sma'—?” He dived into this pocket and + that, making a great pretense of searching, until he found a narrow band + of new leather, with holes in one end and a stout buckle on the other, and + riveted fast in the middle of it was a shining brass plate. Tammy read the + inscription aloud: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + GREYFRIARS BOBBY + + FROM THE LORD PROVOST + + 1867 Licensed +</pre> + <p> + The wonderful collar was passed from hand to hand in awed silence. The + children stared and stared at this white-haired and bearded man, who + “wasna grand ava,” but who talked to them as simply and kindly as a + grandfaither. He went right on talking to them in his homely way to put + them at their ease, telling them that nobody at all, not even the bonny + Queen, could be more than kind and well-behaving and faithful to duty. Wee + Bobby was all that, and so “Gin dizzens an' dizzens o' bairns war kennin' + 'im, an' wad fetch seven shullin's i' their ha'pennies to a kirk, they + could buy the richt for the braw doggie to be leevin', the care o' them + a', i' the auld kirkyaird o' Greyfriars. An' he maun hae the collar so the + police wull ken 'im an' no' ever tak' 'im up for a puir, gaen-aboot dog.” + </p> + <p> + The children quite understood the responsibility they assumed, and their + eyes shone with pride at the feeling that, if more fortunate friends + failed, this little creature must never be allowed to go hungry. And when + he came to die—oh, in a very, very few years, for they must remember + that “a doggie isna as lang-leevin' as folk”—they must not forget + that Bobby would not be permitted to be buried in the kirkyard. + </p> + <p> + “We'll gie 'im a grand buryin',” said Tammy. “We'll find a green brae by a + babblin' burn aneath a snawy hawthorn, whaur the throstle sings an' the + blackbird whustles.” For the crippled laddie had never forgotten Mr. + Traill's description of a proper picnic, and that must, indeed, be a wee + dog's heaven. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, that wull do fair weel.” The collar had come back to him by this + time, and the Lord Provost buckled it securely about Bobby's neck. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + X. + </h2> + <p> + The music of bagpipe, fife and drum brought them all out of Haddo's Hole + into High Street. It was the hour of the morning drill, and the soldiers + were marching out of the Castle. From the front of St. Giles, that jutted + into the steep thoroughfare, they could look up to where the street + widened to the esplanade on Castle Hill. Rank after rank of scarlet coats, + swinging kilts and sporrans, and plumed bonnets appeared. The sun flashed + back from rifle barrels and bayonets and from countless bright buttons. + </p> + <p> + A number of the older laddies ran up the climbing street. Mr. Traill + called Bobby back and, with a last grip of Glenormiston's hand, set off + across the bridge. To the landlord the world seemed a brave place to be + living in, the fabric of earth and sky and human society to be woven of + kindness. Having urgent business of buying supplies in the markets at + Broughton and Lauriston, Mr. Traill put Bobby inside the kirkyard gate and + hurried away to get into his everyday clothing. After dinner, or tea, he + promised himself the pleasure of an hour at the lodge, to tell Mr. Brown + the wonderful news, and to show him Bobby's braw collar. + </p> + <p> + When, finally, he was left alone, Bobby trotted around the kirk, to assure + himself that Auld Jock's grave was unmolested. There he turned on his + back, squirmed and rocked on the crocuses, and tugged at the unaccustomed + collar. His inverted struggles, low growlings and furry contortions set + the wrens to scolding and the redbreasts to making nervous inquiries. Much + nestbuilding, tuneful courtship, and masculine blustering was going on, + and there was little police duty for Bobby. After a time he sat up on the + table-tomb, pensively. With Mr. Brown confined, to the lodge, and Mistress + Jeanie in close attendance upon him there, the kirkyard was a lonely place + for a sociable little dog; and a soft, spring day given over to brooding + beside a beloved grave, was quite too heart-breaking a thing to + contemplate. Just for cheerful occupation Bobby had another tussle with + the collar. He pulled it so far under his thatch that no one could have + guessed that he had a collar on at all, when he suddenly righted himself + and scampered away to the gate. + </p> + <p> + The music grew louder and came nearer. The first of the route-marching + that the Castle garrison practiced on occasional, bright spring mornings + was always a delightful surprise to the small boys and dogs of Edinburgh. + Usually the soldiers went down High Street and out to Portobello on the + sea. But a regiment of tough and wiry Highlanders often took, by + preference, the mounting road to the Pentlands to get a whiff of heather + in their nostrils. + </p> + <p> + On they came, band playing, colors flying, feet moving in unison with a + march, across the viaduct bridge into Greyfriars Place. Bobby was up on + the wicket, his small, energetic body quivering with excitement from his + muzzle to his tail. If Mr. Traill had been there he would surely have + caught the infection, thrown care to this sweet April breeze for once, and + taken the wee terrier for a run on the Pentland braes. The temptation was + going by when a preoccupied lady, with a sheaf of Easter lilies on her + sable arm, opened the wicket. Her ample Victorian skirts swept right over + the little dog, and when he emerged there was the gate slightly ajar. + Widening the aperture with nose and paws, Bobby was off, skirmishing at + large on the rear and flanks of the troops, down the Burghmuir. + </p> + <p> + It may never have happened, in the years since Auld Jock died and the + farmer of Cauldbrae gave up trying to keep him on the hills, that Bobby, + had gone so far back on this once familiar road; and he may not have + recognized it at first, for the highways around Edinburgh were everywhere + much alike. This one alone began to climb again. Up, up it toiled, for two + weary miles, to the hilltop toll-bar of Fairmilehead, and there the sounds + and smells that made it different from other roads began. + </p> + <p> + Five miles out of the city the halt was called, and the soldiers flung + themselves on the slope. Many experiences of route-marching had taught + Bobby that there was an interval of rest before the return, so, with his + nose to the ground, he started up the brae on a pilgrimage to old shrines, + just as in his puppyhood days, at Auld Jock's heels, there was much + shouting of men, barking of collies, and bleating of sheep all the way up. + Once he had to leave the road until a driven flock had passed. Behind the + sheep walked an old laborer in hodden-gray, woolen bonnet, and shepherd's + two-fold plaid, with a lamb in the pouch of it. Bobby trembled at the + apparition, sniffed at the hob-nailed boots, and then, with drooped head + and tail, trotted on up the slope. + </p> + <p> + Men and dogs were all out on the billowy pastures, and the farm-house of + Cauldbrae lay on the level terrace, seemingly deserted and steeped in + memories. A few moments before, a tall lassie had come out to listen to + the military music. A couple of hundred feet below, the coats of the + soldiers looked to her like poppies scattered on the heather. At the top + of the brae the wind was blowing a cold gale, so the maidie went up again, + and around to a bit of tangled garden on the sheltered side of the house. + The “wee lassie Elsie” was still a bairn in short skirts and braids, who + lavished her soft heart, as yet, on briar bushes and daisies. + </p> + <p> + Bobby made a tour of the sheepfold, the cowyard and byre, and he lingered + behind the byre, where Auld Jock had played with him on Sabbath + afternoons. He inspected the dairy, and the poultry-house where hens were + sitting on their nests. By and by he trotted around the house and came + upon the lassie, busily clearing winter rubbish from her posie bed. A dog + changes very little in appearance, but in eight and a half years a child + grows into a different person altogether. Bobby barked politely to let + this strange lassie know that he was there. In the next instant he knew + her, for she whirled about and, in a kind of glad wonder, cried out: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Bobby! hae ye come hame? Mither, here's ma ain wee Bobby!” For she + had never given up the hope that this adored little pet would some day + return to her. + </p> + <p> + “Havers, lassie, ye're aye seein' Bobby i' ilka Hielan' terrier, an' + there's mony o' them aboot.” + </p> + <p> + The gude-wife looked from an attic window in the steep gable, and then + hurried down. “Weel, noo, ye're richt, Elsie. He wad be comin' wi' the + regiment frae the Castle. Bittie doggies an' laddies are fair daft aboot + the soldiers. Ay, he's bonny, an' weel cared for, by the ordinar'. I + wonder gin he's still leevin' i' the grand auld kirkyaird.” + </p> + <p> + Wary of her remembered endearments, Bobby kept a safe distance from the + maidie, but he sat up and lolled his tongue, quite willing to pay her a + friendly visit. From that she came to a wrong conclusion: “Sin' he cam' o' + his ain accord he's like to bide.” Her eyes were blue stars. + </p> + <p> + “I wadna be coontin' on that, lassie. An' I wadna speck a door on 'im + anither time. Grin he wanted to get oot he'd dig aneath a floor o' stane. + Leuk at that, noo! The bonny wee is greetin' for Auld Jock.” + </p> + <p> + It was true, for, on entering the kitchen, Bobby went straight to the + bench in the corner and lay down flat under it. Elsie sat beside him, just + as she had done of old. Her eyes overflowed so in sympathy that the mother + was quite distracted. This would not do at all. + </p> + <p> + “Lassie, are ye no' rememberin' Bobby was fair fond o' moor-hens' eggs + fried wi' bits o' cheese? He wullna be gettin' thae things; an' it wad be + maist michty, noo, gin ye couldna win the bittie dog awa' frae the reekie + auld toon. Gang oot wi' 'im an' rin on the brae an' bid 'im find the nests + aneath the whins.” + </p> + <p> + In a moment they were out on the heather, and it seemed, indeed, as if + Bobby might be won. He frisked and barked at Elsie's heels, chased rabbits + and flushed the grouse; and when he ran into a peat-darkened tarp, rimmed + with moss, he had such a cold and splashy swim as quite to give a little + dog a distaste for warm, soapy water in a claes tub. He shook and ran + himself dry, and he raced the laughing child until they both dropped + panting on the wind-rippled heath. Then he hunted on the ground under the + gorse for those nests that had a dozen or more eggs in them. He took just + one from each in his mouth, as Auld Jock had taught him to do. On the + kitchen hearth he ate the savory meal with much satisfaction and polite + waggings. But when the bugle sounded from below to form ranks, he pricked + his drop ears and started for the door. + </p> + <p> + Before he knew what had happened he was inside the poultry-house. In + another instant he was digging frantically in the soft earth under the + door. When the lassie lay down across the crack he stopped digging, in + consternation. His sense of smell told him what it was that shut out the + strip of light; and a bairn's soft body is not a proper object of attack + for a little dog, no matter how desperate the emergency. There was no time + to be lost, for the drums began to beat the march. Having to get out very + quickly, Bobby did a forbidden thing: swiftly and noisily he dashed around + the dark place, and there arose such wild squawkings and rushings of wings + as to bring the gude-wife out of the house in alarm. + </p> + <p> + “Lassie, I canna hae the bittie dog in wi the broodin' chuckies!” + </p> + <p> + She flung the door wide. Bobby shot through, and into Elsie's outstretched + arms. She held to him desperately, while he twisted and struggled and + strained away; and presently something shining worked into view, through + the disordered thatch about his neck. The mother had come to the help of + the child, and it was she who read the inscription on the brazen plate + aloud. + </p> + <p> + “Preserve us a'! Lassie, he's been tak'n by the Laird Provost an' gien the + name o' the auld kirkyaird. He's an ower grand doggie. Ma puir bairnie, + dinna greet so sair!” For the little girl suddenly released the wee + Highlander and sobbed on her mother's shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “He isna ma ain Bobby ony mair!” She “couldna thole” to watch him as he + tumbled down the brae. + </p> + <p> + On the outward march, among the many dogs and laddies that had followed + the soldiers, Bobby escaped notice. But most of these had gone adventuring + in Swanston Dell, to return to the city by the gorge of Leith Water. Now, + traveling three miles to the soldiers' one, scampering in wide circles + over the fields, swimming burns, scrambling under hedges, chasing whaups + into piping cries, barking and louping in pure exuberance of spirits, many + eyes looked upon him admiringly, and discontented mouths turned upward at + the corners. It is not the least of a little dog's missions in life to + communicate his own irresponsible gaiety to men. + </p> + <p> + If the return had been over George IV Bridge Bobby would, no doubt, have + dropped behind at Mr. Traill's or at the kirkyard. But on the Burghmuir + the troops swung eastward until they rounded Arthur's Seat and met the + cavalry drilling before the barracks at Piershill. Such pretty maneuvering + of horse and foot took place below Holyrood Palace as quite to enrapture a + terrier. When the infantry marched up the Canongate and High Street, the + mounted men following and the bands playing at full blast, the ancient + thoroughfare was quickly lined with cheering crowds, and faces looked down + from ten tiers of windows on a beautiful spectacle. Bobby did not know + when the bridge-approach was passed; and then, on Castle Hill, he was in + an unknown region. There the street widened to the great square of the + esplanade. The cavalry wheeled and dashed down High Street, but the + infantry marched on and up, over the sounding drawbridge that spanned a + dry moat of the Middle Ages, and through a deep-arched gateway of masonry. + </p> + <p> + The outer gate to the Castle was wider than the opening into many an + Edinburgh wynd; but Bobby stopped, uncertain as to where this narrow + roadway, that curved upward to the right, might lead. It was not a dark + fissure in a cliff of houses, but was bounded on the outer side by a + loopholed wall, and on the inner by a rocky ledge of ascending levels. + Wherever the shelf was of sufficient breadth a battery of cannon was + mounted, and such a flood of light fell from above and flashed on polished + steel and brass as to make the little dog blink in bewilderment. And he + whirled like a rotary sweeper in the dusty road and yelped when the + time-gun, in the half-moon battery at the left of the gate and behind him, + crashed and shook the massive rock. + </p> + <p> + He barked and barked, and dashed toward the insulting clamor. The + dauntless little dog and his spirited protest were so out of proportion to + the huge offense that the guard laughed, and other soldiers ran out of the + guard houses that flanked the gate. They would have put the noisy terrier + out at once, but Bobby was off, up the curving roadway into the Castle. + The music had ceased, and the soldiers had disappeared over the rise. + Through other dark arches of masonry he ran. On the crest were two ways to + choose—the roadway on around and past the barracks, and a flight of + steps cut steeply in the living rock of the ledge, and leading up to the + King's Bastion. Bobby took the stairs at a few bounds. + </p> + <p> + On the summit there was nothing at all beside a tiny, ancient stone chapel + with a Norman arched and sculptured doorway, and guarding it an enormous + burst cannon. But these ruins were the crown jewels of the fortifications—their + origins lost in legends—and so they were cared for with peculiar + reverence. Sergeant Scott of the Royal Engineers himself, in + fatigue-dress, was down on his knees before St. Margaret's oratory, + pulling from a crevice in the foundations a knot of grass that was at its + insidious work of time and change. As Bobby dashed up to the citadel, + still barking, the man jumped to his feet. Then he slapped his thigh and + laughed. Catching the animated little bundle of protest the sergeant set + him up for inspection on the shattered breeching of Mons Meg. + </p> + <p> + “Losh! The sma' dog cam' by 'is ainsel'! He could no' resist the braw + soldier laddies. 'He's a dog o' discreemination,' eh? Gin he bides a wee, + noo, it wull tak' the conceit oot o' the innkeeper.” He turned to gather + up his tools, for the first dinner bugle was blowing. Bobby knew by the + gun that it was the dinner-hour, but he had been fed at the farm and was + not hungry. He might as well see a bit more of life. He sat upon the + cannon, not in the least impressed by the honor, and lolled his tongue. + </p> + <p> + In Edinburgh Castle there was nothing to alarm a little dog. A dozen or + more large buildings, in three or four groups, and representing many + periods of architecture, lay to the south and west on the lowest terraces, + and about them were generous parked spaces. Into the largest of the + buildings, a long, four-storied barracks, the soldiers had vanished. And + now, at the blowing of a second bugle, half a hundred orderlies hurried + down from a modern cook-house, near the summit, with cans of soup and meat + and potatoes. The sergeant followed one of these into a room on the front + of the barracks. In their serge fatigue-tunics the sixteen men about the + long table looked as different from the gay soldiers of the march as + though so many scarlet and gold and bonneted butterflies had turned back + into sad-colored grubs. + </p> + <p> + “Private McLean,” he called to his batman who, for one-and-six a week, + cared for his belongings, “tak' chairge o' the dog, wull ye, an' fetch 'im + to the non-com mess when ye come to put ma kit i' gude order.” + </p> + <p> + Before he could answer the bombardment of questions about Bobby the door + was opened again. The men dropped their knives and forks and stood at + attention. The officer of the day was making the rounds of the forty or + fifty such rooms in the barracks to inquire of the soldiers if their + dinner was satisfactory. He recognized at once the attractive little Skye + that had taken the eyes of the men on the march, and asked about him. + Sergeant Scott explained that Bobby had no owner. He was living, by + permission, in Greyfriars kirkyard, guarding the grave of a long-dead, + humble master, and was fed by the landlord of the dining-rooms near the + gate. If the little dog took a fancy to garrison life, and the regiment to + him, he thought Mr. Traill, who had the best claim upon him, might consent + to his transfer to the Castle. After orders, at sunset, he would take + Bobby down to the restaurant himself. + </p> + <p> + “I wish you good luck, Sergeant.” The officer whistled, and Bobby leaped + upon him and off again, and indulged in many inconsequent friskings. + “Before you take him home fetch him over to the officers' mess at dinner. + It is guest night, and he is sure to interest the gentlemen. A loyal + little creature who has guarded his dead master's grave for more than + eight years deserves to have a toast drunk to him by the officers of the + Queen. But it's an extraordinary story, and it doesn't sound altogether + probable. Jolly little beggar!” He patted Bobby cordially on the side, and + went out. + </p> + <p> + The news of his advent and fragments of his story spread so quickly + through the barracks that mess after mess swarmed down from the upper + moors and out into the roadway to see Bobby. Private McLean stood in the + door, smoking a cutty pipe, and grinning with pride in the merry little + ruffian of a terrier, who met the friendly advances of the soldiers more + than half-way. Bobby's guardian would have liked very well to have sat + before the canteen in the sun and gossiped about his small charge. + However, in the sergeant's sleeping-quarters above the mess-room, he had + the little dog all to himself, and Bobby had the liveliest interest in the + boxes and pots, brushes and sponges, and in the processes of polishing, + burnishing, and pipe-claying a soldier's boots and buttons and belts. As + he worked at his valeting, the man kept time with his foot to rude ballads + that he sang in such a hissing Celtic that Bobby barked, scandalized by a + dialect that had been music in the ears of his ancestors. At that Private + McLean danced a Highland fling for him, and wee Bobby came near bursting + with excitement. When the sergeant came up to make a magnificent toilet + for tea and for the evening in town, the soldier expressed himself with + enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + “He iss a deffle of a dog, sir!” + </p> + <p> + He was thought to be a “deffle of a dog” in the mess, where the non-com + officers had tea at small writing and card tables. They talked and laughed + very fast and loud, tried Bobby out on all the pretty tricks he knew, and + taught him to speak and to jump for a lump of sugar balanced on his nose. + They did not fondle him, and this rough, masculine style of pampering and + petting was very much to his liking. It was a proud thing, too, for a + little dog, to walk out with the sergeant's shining boots and twirled + walkingstick, and be introduced into one strange place after another all + around the Castle. + </p> + <p> + From tea to tattoo was playtime for the garrison. Many smartly dressed + soldiers, with passes earned by good behavior, went out to find amusement + in the city. Visitors, some of them tourists from America, made the rounds + under the guidance of old soldiers. The sergeant followed such a group of + sight-seers through a postern behind the armory and out onto the cliff. + There he lounged under a fir-tree above St. Margaret's Well and smoked a + dandified cigar, while Bobby explored the promenade and scraped + acquaintance with the strangers. + </p> + <p> + On the northern and southern sides the Castle wall rose from the very edge + of sheer precipices. Except for loopholes there were no openings. But on + the west there was a grassy terrace without the wall, and below that the + cliff fell away a little less steeply. The declivity was clothed sparsely + with hazel shrubs, thorns, whins and thistles; and now and then a stunted + fir or rowan tree or a group of white-stemmed birks was stoutly rooted on + a shelving ledge. Had any one, the visitors asked, ever escaped down this + wild crag? + </p> + <p> + Yes, Queen Margaret's children, the guide answered. Their father dead, in + battle, their saintly mother dead in the sanctuary of her tiny chapel, the + enemy battering at the gate, soldiers had lowered the royal lady's body in + a basket, and got the orphaned children down, in safety and away, in a + fog, over Queen's Ferry to Dunfirmline in the Kingdom of Fife. It was true + that a false step or a slip of the foot would have dashed them to pieces + on the rocks below. A gentleman of the party scouted the legend. Only a + fox or an Alpine chamois could make that perilous descent. + </p> + <p> + With his head cocked alertly, Bobby had stood listening. Hearing this + vague talk of going down, he may have thought these people meant to go, + for he quietly dropped over the edge and went, head over heels, ten feet + down, and landed in a clump of hazel. A lady screamed. Bobby righted + himself and barked cheerful reassurance. The sergeant sprang to his feet + and ordered him to come back. + </p> + <p> + Now, the sergeant was pleasant company, to be sure; but he was not a + person who had to be obeyed, so Bobby barked again, wagged his crested + tail, and dropped lower. The people who shuddered on the brink could see + that the little dog was going cautiously enough; and presently he looked + doubtfully over a sheer fall of twenty feet, turned and scrambled back to + the promenade. He was cried and exclaimed over by the hysterical ladies, + and scolded for a bittie fule by the sergeant. To this Bobby returned + ostentatious yawns of boredom and nonchalant lollings, for it seemed a + small matter to be so fashed about. At that a gentleman remarked, testily, + to hide his own agitation, that dogs really had very little sense. The + sergeant ordered Bobby to precede him through the postern, and the little + dog complied amiably. + </p> + <p> + All the afternoon bugles had been blowing. For each signal there was a + different note, and at each uniformed men appeared and hurried to new + points. Now, near sunset, there was the fanfare for officers' orders for + the next day. The sergeant put Bobby into Queen Margaret's Chapel, bade + him remain there, and went down to the Palace Yard. The chapel on the + summit was a convenient place for picking the little dog up on his way to + the officers' mess. Then he meant to have his own supper cozily at Mr. + Traill's and to negotiate for Bobby. + </p> + <p> + A dozen people would have crowded this ancient oratory, but, small as it + was, it was fitted with a chancel rail and a font for baptizing the babies + born in the Castle. Through the window above the altar, where the sainted + Queen was pictured in stained glass, the sunlight streamed and laid + another jeweled image on the stone floor. Then the colors faded, until the + holy place became an austere cell. The sun had dropped behind the western + Highlands. + </p> + <p> + Bobby thought it quite time to go home. By day he often went far afield, + seeking distraction, but at sunset he yearned for the grave in Greyfriars. + The steps up which he had come lay in plain view from the doorway of the + chapel. Bobby dropped down the stairs, and turned into the main roadway of + the Castle. At the first arch that spanned it a red-coated guard paced on + the other side of a closed gate. It would not be locked until tattoo, at + nine thirty, but, without a pass, no one could go in or out. Bobby sprang + on the bars and barked, as much as to say: “Come awa', man, I hae to get + oot.” + </p> + <p> + The guard stopped, presented arms to this small, peremptory terrier, and + inquired facetiously if he had a pass. Bobby bristled and yelped + indignantly. The soldier grinned with amusement. Sentinel duty was + lonesome business, and any diversion a relief. In a guardhouse asleep when + Bobby came into the Castle, he had not seen the little dog before and knew + nothing about him. He might be the property of one of the regiment ladies. + Without orders he dared not let Bobby out. A furious and futile onslaught + on the gate he met with a jocose feint of his bayonet. Tiring of the play, + presently, the soldier turned his back and paced to the end of his beat. + </p> + <p> + Bobby stopped barking in sheer astonishment. He gazed after the stiff, + retreating back, in frightened disbelief that he was not to be let out. He + attacked the stone under the barrier, but quickly discovered its + unyielding nature. Then he howled until the sentinel came back, but when + the man went by without looking at him he uttered a whimpering cry and + fled upward. The roadway was dark and the dusk was gathering on the + citadel when Bobby dashed across the summit and down into the brightly + lighted square of the Palace Yard. + </p> + <p> + The gas-lamps were being lighted on the bridge, and Mr. Traill was getting + into his streetcoat for his call on Mr. Brown when Tammy put his head in + at the door of the restaurant. The crippled laddie had a warm, uplifted + look, for Love had touched the sordid things of life, and a miracle had + bloomed for the tenement dwellers around Greyfriars. + </p> + <p> + “Maister Traill, Mrs. Brown says wull ye please send Bobby hame. Her + gude-mon's frettin' for 'im; an' syne, a' the folk aroond the kirkyaird + hae come to the gate to see the bittie dog's braw collar. They wullna + believe the Laird Provost gied it to 'im for a chairm gin they dinna see + it wi' their gin een.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, mannie, Bobby's no' here. He must be in the kirkyard.” + </p> + <p> + “Nae, he isna. I ca'ed, an' Ailie keeked in ilka place amang the stanes.” + </p> + <p> + They stared at each other, the landlord serious, the laddie's lip + trembling. Mr. Traill had not returned from his numerous errands about the + city until the middle of the afternoon. He thought, of course, that Bobby + had been in for his dinner, as usual, and had returned to the kirkyard. It + appeared, now, that no one about the diningrooms had seen the little dog. + Everybody had thought that Mr. Traill had taken Bobby with him. He hurried + down to the gate to find Mistress Jeanie at the wicket, and a crowd of + tenement women and children in the alcove and massed down Candlemakers + Row. Alarm spread like a contagion. In eight years and more Bobby had not + been outside the kirkyard gate after the sunset bugle. Mrs. Brown turned + pale. + </p> + <p> + “Dinna say the bittie dog's lost, Maister Traill. It wad gang to the heart + o' ma gudemon.” + </p> + <p> + “Havers, woman, he's no' lost.” Mr. Traill spoke stoutly enough. “Just go + up to the lodge and tell Mr. Brown I'm—weel, I'll just attend to + that sma' matter my ainsel'.” With that he took a gay face and a set-up + air into the lodge to meet Mr. Brown's glowering eye. + </p> + <p> + “Whaur's the dog, man? I've been deaved aboot 'im a' the day, but I haena + seen the sonsie rascal nor the braw collar the Laird Provost gied 'im. An' + syne, wi' the folk comin' to spier for 'im an' swarmin' ower the + kirkyaird, ye'd think a warlock was aboot. Bobby isna your dog—” + </p> + <p> + “Haud yoursel', man. Bobby's a famous dog, with the freedom of Edinburgh + given to him, and naething will do but Glenormiston must show him to a + company o' grand folk at his bit country place. He's sending in a cart by + a groom, and I'm to tak' Bobby out and fetch him hame after a braw dinner + on gowd plate. The bairns meant weel, but they could no' give Bobby a + washing fit for a veesit with the nobeelity. I had to tak' him to a barber + for a shampoo.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Brown roared with laughter. “Man, ye hae mair fule notions i' yer + heid. Ye'll hae to pay a shullin' or twa to a barber, an' Bobby'll be sae + set up there'll be nae leevin' wi' 'im. Sit ye doon an' tell me aboot the + collar, man.” + </p> + <p> + “I can no' stop now to wag my tongue. Here's the gude-wife. I'll just help + her get you awa' to your bed.” + </p> + <p> + It was dark when he returned to the gate, and the Castle wore its luminous + crown. The lights from the street lamps flickered on the up-turned, + anxious faces. Some of the children had begun to weep. Women offered loud + suggestions. There were surmises that Bobby had been run over by a cart in + the street, and angry conjectures that he had been stolen. Then Ailie + wailed: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Maister Traill, the bittie dog's deid!” + </p> + <p> + “Havers, lassie! I'm ashamed o' ye for a fulish bairn. Bobby's no' deid. + Nae doot he's amang the stanes i' the kirkyaird. He's aye scramblin' aboot + for vermin an' pussies, an' may hae hurt himsel', an' ye a' ken the bonny + wee wadna cry oot i' the kirkyaird. Noo, get to wark, an' dinna stand + there greetin' an' waggin' yer tongues. The mithers an' bairns maun juist + gang hame an' stap their havers, an' licht a' the candles an' cruisey + lamps i' their hames, an' set them i' the windows aboon the kirkyaird. + Greyfriars is murky by the ordinar', an' ye couldna find a coo there + wi'oot the lichts.” + </p> + <p> + The crowd suddenly melted away, so eager were they all to have a hand in + helping to find the community pet. Then Mr. Traill turned to the boys. + </p> + <p> + “Hoo mony o' ye laddies hae the bull's-eye lanterns?” + </p> + <p> + Ah! not many in the old buildings around the kirkyard. These japanned tin + aids to dark adventures on the golf links on autumn nights cost a sixpence + and consumed candles. Geordie Ross and Sandy McGregor, coming up arm in + arm, knew of other students and clerks who still had these cherished toys + of boyhood. With these heroes in the lead a score or more of laddies + swarmed into the kirkyard. + </p> + <p> + The tenements were lighted up as they had not been since nobles held routs + and balls there. Enough candles and oil were going up in smoke to pay for + wee Bobby's license all over again, and enough love shone in pallid little + faces that peered into the dusk to light the darkest corner in the heart + of the world. Rays from the bull's-eyes were thrown into every nook and + cranny. Very small laddies insinuated themselves into the narrowest + places. They climbed upon high vaults and let themselves down in last + year's burdocks and tangled vines. It was all done in silence, only Mr. + Traill speaking at all. He went everywhere with the searchers, and called: + </p> + <p> + “Whaur are ye, Bobby? Come awa' oot, laddie!” + </p> + <p> + But no gleaming ghost of a tousled dog was conjured by the voice of + affection. The tiniest scratching or lowest moaning could have been heard, + for the warm spring evening was very still, and there were, as yet, few + leaves to rustle. Sleepy birds complained at being disturbed on their + perches, and rodents could be heard scampering along their runways. The + entire kirkyard was explored, then the interior of the two kirks. Mr. + Traill went up to the lodge for the keys, saying, optimistically, that a + sexton might unwittingly have locked Bobby in. Young men with lanterns + went through the courts of the tenements, around the Grassmarket, and + under the arches of the bridge. Laddies dropped from the wall and hunted + over Heriot's Hospital grounds to Lauriston market. Tammy, poignantly + conscious of being of no practical use, sat on Auld Jock's grave, firm in + the conviction that Bobby would return to that spot his ainsel' And Ailie, + being only a maid, whose portion it was to wait and weep, lay across the + window-sill, on the pediment of the tomb, a limp little figure of woe. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Traill's heart was full of misgiving. Nothing but death or stone walls + could keep that little creature from this beloved grave. But, in thinking + of stone walls, he never once thought of the Castle. Away over to the + east, in Broughton market, when the garrison marched away and at Lauriston + when they returned, Mr. Traill did not know that the soldiers had been out + of the city. Busy in the lodge Mistress Jeanie had not seen them go by the + kirkyard, and no one else, except Mr. Brown, knew the fascination that + military uniforms, marching and music had for wee Bobby. A fog began to + drift in from the sea. Suddenly the grass was sheeted and the tombs + blurred. A curtain of gauze seemed to be hung before the lighted + tenements. The Castle head vanished, and the sounds of the drum and bugle + of the tattoo came down muffled, as if through layers of wool. The lights + of the bull's-eyes were ruddy discs that cast no rays. Then these were + smeared out to phosphorescent glows, like the “spunkies” that everybody in + Scotland knew came out to dance in old kirkyards. + </p> + <p> + It was no' canny. In the smother of the fog some of the little boys were + lost, and cried out. Mr. Traill got them up to the gate and sent them home + in bands, under the escort of the students. Mistress Jeanie was out by the + wicket. Mr. Brown was asleep, and she “couldna thole it to sit there + snug.” When a fog-horn moaned from the Firth she broke into sobbing. Mr. + Traill comforted her as best he could by telling her a dozen plans for the + morning. By feeling along the wall he got her to the lodge, and himself up + to his cozy dining-rooms. + </p> + <p> + For the first time since Queen Mary the gate of the historic garden of the + Greyfriars was left on the latch. And it was so that a little dog, coming + home in the night might not be shut out. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI. + </h2> + <p> + It was more than two hours after he left Bobby in Queen Margaret's Chapel + that the sergeant turned into the officers' mess-room and tried to get an + orderly to take a message to the captain who had noticed the little dog in + the barracks. He wished to report that Bobby could not be found, and to be + excused to continue the search. + </p> + <p> + He had to wait by the door while the toast to her Majesty was proposed and + the band in the screened gallery broke into “God Save the Queen”; and when + the music stopped the bandmaster came in for the usual compliments. + </p> + <p> + The evening was so warm and still, although it was only mid-April, that a + glass-paneled door, opening on the terrace, was set ajar for air. In the + confusion of movement and talk no one noticed a little black mop of a + muzzle that was poked through the aperture. From the outer darkness Bobby + looked in on the score or more of men doubtfully, ready for instant + disappearance on the slightest alarm. Desperate was the emergency, forlorn + the hope that had brought him there. At every turn his efforts to escape + from the Castle had been baffled. He had been imprisoned by drummer boys + and young recruits in the gymnasium, detained in the hospital, captured in + the canteen. + </p> + <p> + Bobby went through all his pretty tricks for the lads, and then begged to + be let go. Laughed at, romped with, dragged back, thrown into the + swimming-pool, expected to play and perform for them, he rebelled at last. + He scarred the door with his claws, and he howled so dismally that, + hearing an orderly corporal coming, they turned him out in a rough haste + that terrified him. In the old Banqueting Hall on the Palace Yard, that + was used as a hospital and dispensary, he went through that travesty of + joy again, in hope of the reward. + </p> + <p> + Sharply rebuked and put out of the hospital, at last, because of his + destructive clawing and mournful howling, Bobby dashed across the Palace + Yard and into a crowd of good-humored soldiers who lounged in the canteen. + Rising on his hind legs to beg for attention and indulgence, he was taken + unaware from behind by an admiring soldier who wanted to romp with him. + Quite desperate by that time, he snapped at the hand of his captor and + sprang away into the first dark opening. Frightened by the man's cry of + pain, and by the calls and scuffling search for him without, he slunk to + the farthest corner of a dungeon of the Middle Ages, under the Royal + Lodging. + </p> + <p> + When the hunt for him ceased, Bobby slipped out of hiding and made his way + around the sickle-shaped ledge of rock, and under the guns of the + half-moon battery, to the outer gate. Only a cat, a fox, or a low, + weasel-like dog could have done it. There were many details that would + have enabled the observant little creature to recognize this barrier as + the place where he had come in. Certainly he attacked it with fury, and on + the guards he lavished every art of appeal that he possessed. But there he + was bantered, and a feint was made of shutting him up in the guard-house + as a disorderly person. With a heart-broken cry he escaped his tormentors, + and made his way back, under the guns, to the citadel. + </p> + <p> + His confidence in the good intentions of men shaken, Bobby took to furtive + ways. Avoiding lighted buildings and voices, he sped from shadow to shadow + and explored the walls of solid masonry. Again and again he returned to + the postern behind the armory, but the small back gate that gave to the + cliff was not opened. Once he scrambled up to a loophole in the + fortifications and looked abroad at the scattered lights of the city set + in the void of night. But there, indeed, his stout heart failed him. + </p> + <p> + It was not long before Bobby discovered that he was being pursued. A + number of soldiers and drummer boys were out hunting for him, contritely + enough, when the situation was explained by the angry sergeant. Wherever + he went voices and footsteps followed. Had the sergeant gone alone and + called in familiar speech, “Come awa' oot, Bobby!” he would probably have + run to the man. But there were so many calls—in English, in Celtic, + and in various dialects of the Lowlands—that the little dog dared + not trust them. From place to place he was driven by fear, and when the + calling stopped and the footsteps no longer followed, he lay for a time + where he could watch the postern. A moment after he gave up the vigil + there the little back gate was opened. + </p> + <p> + Desperation led him to take another chance with men. Slipping into the + shadow of the old Governor's House, the headquarters of commissioned + officers, on the terrace above the barracks, he lay near the open door to + the mess-room, listening and watching. + </p> + <p> + The pretty ceremony of toasting the bandmaster brought all the company + about the table again, and the polite pause in the conversation, on his + exit, gave an opportunity for the captain to speak of Bobby before the + sergeant could get his message delivered. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen, your indulgence for a moment, to drink another toast to a + little dog that is said to have slept on his master's grave in Greyfriars + churchyard for more than eight years. Sergeant Scott, of the Royal + Engineers, vouches for the story and will present the hero.” + </p> + <p> + The sergeant came forward then with the word that Bobby could not be + found. He was somewhere in the Castle, and had made persistent and frantic + efforts to get out. Prevented at every turn, and forcibly held in various + places by well-meaning but blundering soldiers, he had been frightened + into hiding. + </p> + <p> + Bobby heard every word, and he must have understood that he himself was + under discussion. Alternately hopeful and apprehensive, he scanned each + face in the room that came within range of his vision, until one arrested + and drew him. Such faces, full of understanding, love and compassion for + dumb animals, are to be found among men, women and children, in any + company and in every corner of the world. Now, with the dog's instinct for + the dog-lover, Bobby made his way about the room unnoticed, and set his + short, shagged paws up on this man's knee. + </p> + <p> + “Bless my soul, gentlemen, here's the little dog now, and a beautiful + specimen of the drop-eared Skye he is. Why didn't you say that the + 'bittie' dog was of the Highland breed, Sergeant? You may well believe any + extravagant tale you may hear of the fidelity and affection of the Skye + terrier.” + </p> + <p> + And with that wee Bobby was set upon the polished table, his own silver + image glimmering among the reflections of candles and old plate. He kept + close under the hand of his protector, but waiting for the moment + favorable to his appeal. The company crowded around with eager interest, + while the man of expert knowledge and love of dogs talked about Bobby. + </p> + <p> + “You see he's a well-knit little rascal, long and low, hardy and strong. + His ancestors were bred for bolting foxes and wildcats among the rocky + headlands of the subarctic islands. The intelligence, courage and devotion + of dogs of this breed can scarcely be overstated. There is some far away + crossing here that gives this one a greater beauty and grace and more + engaging manners, making him a 'sport' among rough farm dogs—but + look at the length and strength of the muzzle. He's as determined as the + deil. You would have to break his neck before you could break his purpose. + For love of his master he would starve, or he would leap to his death + without an instant's hesitation.” + </p> + <p> + All this time the man had been stroking Bobby's head and neck. Now, + feeling the collar under the thatch, he slipped it out and brought the + brass plate up to the light. + </p> + <p> + “Propose your toast to Greyfriars Bobby, Captain. His story is vouched for + by no less a person than the Lord Provost. The 'bittie' dog seems to have + won a sort of canine Victoria Cross.” + </p> + <p> + The toast was drunk standing, and, a cheer given. The company pressed + close to examine the collar and to shake Bobby's lifted paw. Then, + thinking the moment had come, Bobby rose in the begging attitude, + prostrated himself before them, and uttered a pleading cry. His new friend + assured him that he would be taken home. + </p> + <p> + “Bide a wee, Bobby. Before he goes I want you all to see his beautiful + eyes. In most breeds of dogs with the veil you will find the hairs of the + face discolored by tears, but the Skye terrier's are not, and his eyes are + living jewels, as sunny a brown as cairngorms in pebble brooches, but soft + and deep and with an almost human intelligence.” + </p> + <p> + For the third time that day Bobby's veil was pushed back. One shocked look + by this lover of dogs, and it was dropped. “Get him back to that grave, + man, or he's like to die. His eyes are just two cairngorms of grief.” + </p> + <p> + In the hush that fell upon the company the senior officer spoke sharply: + “Take him down at once, Sergeant. The whole affair is most unfortunate, + and you will please tender my apologies at the churchyard and the + restaurant, as well as your own, and I will see the Lord Provost.” + </p> + <p> + The military salute was given to Bobby when he leaped from the table at + the sergeant's call: “Come awa', Bobby. I'll tak' ye to Auld Jock i' the + kirkyaird noo.” + </p> + <p> + He stepped out onto the lawn to wait for his pass. Bobby stood at his + feet, quivering with impatience to be off, but trusting in the man's given + word. The upper air was clear, and the sky studded with stars. Twenty + minutes before the May Light, that guided the ships into the Firth, could + be seen far out on the edge of the ocean, and in every direction the lamps + of the city seemed to fall away in a shower of sparks, as from a burst + meteor. But now, while the stars above were as numerous and as brilliant + as before, the lights below had vanished. As the sergeant looked, the + highest ones expired in the rising fog. The Island Rock appeared to be + sinking in a waveless sea of milk. + </p> + <p> + A startled exclamation from the sergeant brought other men out on the + terrace to see it. The senior officer withheld the pass in his hand, and + scouted the idea of the sergeant's going down into the city. As the drum + began to beat the tattoo and the bugle to rise on a crescendo of lovely + notes, soldiers swarmed toward the barracks. Those who had been out in the + town came running up the roadway into the Castle, talking loudly of + adventures they had had in the fog. The sergeant looked down at anxious + Bobby, who stood agitated and straining as at a leash, and said that he + preferred to go. + </p> + <p> + “Impossible! A foolish risk, Sergeant, that I am unwilling you should + take. Edinburgh is too full of pitfalls for a man to be going about on + such a night. Our guests will sleep in the Castle, and it will be safer + for the little dog to remain until morning.” + </p> + <p> + Bobby did not quite understand this good English, but the excited talk and + the delay made him uneasy. He whimpered piteously. He lay across the + sergeant's feet, and through his boots the man could feel the little + creature's heart beat. Then he rose and uttered his pleading cry. The + sergeant stooped and patted the shaggy head consolingly, and tried to + explain matters. + </p> + <p> + “Be a gude doggie noo. Dinna fash yersel' aboot what canna be helped. I + canna tak' ye to the kirkyaird the nicht.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll take charge of Bobby, Sergeant.” The dog-loving guest ran out + hastily, but, with a wild cry of reproach and despair, Bobby was gone. + </p> + <p> + The group of soldiers who had been out on the cliff were standing in the + postern a moment to look down at the opaque flood that was rising around + the rock. They felt some flying thing sweep over their feet and caught a + silvery flash of it across the promenade. The sergeant cried to them to + stop the dog, and he and the guest were out in time to see Bobby go over + the precipice. + </p> + <p> + For a time the little dog lay in a clump of hazel above the fog, between + two terrors. He could see the men and the lights moving along the top of + the cliff, and he could hear the calls. Some one caught a glimpse of him, + and the sergeant lay down on the edge of the precipice and talked to him, + saying every kind and foolish thing he could think of to persuade Bobby to + come back. Then a drummer boy was tied to a rope and let down to the ledge + to fetch him up. But at that, without any sound at all, Bobby dropped out + of sight. + </p> + <p> + Through the smother came the loud moaning of fog-horns in the Firth. + Although nothing could be seen, and sounds were muffled as if the ears of + the world were stuffed with wool, odors were held captive and mingled in + confusion. There was nothing to guide a little dog's nose, everything to + make him distrust his most reliable sense. The smell of every plant on the + crag was there; the odors of leather, of paint, of wood, of iron, from the + crafts shops at the base. Smoke from chimneys in the valley was mixed with + the strong scent of horses, hay and grain from the street of King's + Stables. There was the smell of furry rodents, of nesting birds, of + gushing springs, of the earth itself, and something more ancient still, as + of burned-out fires in the Huge mass of trap-rock. + </p> + <p> + Everything warned Bobby to lie still in safety until morning and the world + was restored to its normal aspects. But ah! in the highest type of man and + dog, self-sacrifice, and not self-preservation, is the first law. A + deserted grave cried to him across the void, the anguish of protecting + love urged him on to take perilous chances. Falling upon a narrow shelf of + rock, he had bounded off and into a thicket of thorns. Bruised and shaken + and bewildered, he lay there for a time and tried to get his bearings. + </p> + <p> + Bobby knew only that the way was downward. He put out a paw and felt for + the edge of the shelf. A thorn bush rooted below tickled his nose. He + dropped into that and scrambled out again. Loose earth broke under his + struggles and carried him swiftly down to a new level. He slipped in the + wet moss of a spring before he heard the tinkle of the water, lost his + foothold, and fell against a sharp point of rock. The shadowy spire of a + fir-tree looming in a parting of the vapor for an instant, Bobby leaped to + the ledge upon which it was rooted. + </p> + <p> + Foot by foot he went down, with no guidance at all. It is the nature of + such long, low, earth dogs to go by leaps and bounds like foxes, + calculating distances nicely when they can see, and tearing across the + roughest country with the speed of the wild animals they hunt. And where + the way is very steep they can scramble up or down any declivity that is + at a lesser angle than the perpendicular. Head first they go downward, + setting the fore paws forward, the claws clutching around projections and + in fissures, the weight hung from the stout hindquarters, the body + flattened on the earth. + </p> + <p> + Thus Bobby crept down steep descents in safety, but his claws were broken + in crevices and his feet were torn and pierced by splinters of rock and + thorns. Once he went some distance into a cave and had to back up and out + again. And then a promising slope shelving under suddenly, where he could + not retreat, he leaped, turned over and over in the air, and fell stunned. + His heart filled with fear of the unseen before him, the little dog lay + for a long time in a clump of whins. He may even have dozed and dreamed, + to be awakened with starts by his misery of longing, and once by the + far-away barking of a dog. It came up deadened, as if from fathoms below. + He stood up and listened, but the sound was not repeated. His lacerated + feet burned and throbbed; his bruised muscles had begun to stiffen, so + that every movement was a pain. + </p> + <p> + In these lower levels there was more smoke, that smeared out and thickened + the mist. Suddenly a breath of air parted the fog as if it were a torn + curtain. Like a shot Bobby went down the crag, leaping from rock to rock, + scrambling under thorns and hazel shrubs, dropping over precipitous + ledges, until he looked down a sheer fall on which not even a knot of + grass could find a foothold. He took the leap instantly, and his thick + fleece saved him from broken bones; but when he tried to get up again his + body was racked with pain and his hind legs refused to serve him. + </p> + <p> + Turning swiftly, he snarled and bit, at them in angry disbelief that his + good little legs should play false with his stout heart. Then he quite + forgot his pain, for there was the sharp ring of iron on an anvil and the + dull glow of a forge fire, where a smith was toiling in the early hours of + the morning. A clever and resourceful little dog, Bobby made shift to do + without legs. Turning on his side, he rolled down the last slope of Castle + Rock. Crawling between two buildings and dropping from the terrace on + which they stood, he fell into a little street at the west end and above + the Grassmarket. + </p> + <p> + Here the odors were all of the stables. He knew the way, and that it was + still downward. The distance he had to go was a matter of a quarter of a + mile, or less, and the greater part of it was on the level, through the + sunken valley of the Grassmarket. But Bobby had literally to drag himself + now; and he had still to pull him self up by his fore paws over the wet + and greasy cobblestones of Candlemakers Row. Had not the great leaves of + the gate to the kirkyard been left on the latch, he would have had to lie + there in the alcove, with his nose under the bars, until morning. But the + gate gave way to his push, and so, he dragged himself through it and + around the kirk, and stretched himself on Auld Jock's grave. + </p> + <p> + It was the birds that found him there in the misty dawn. They were used to + seeing Bobby scampering about, for the little watchman was awake and busy + as early as the feathered dwellers in the kirkyard. But, in what looked to + be a wet and furry door-mat left out overnight on the grass, they did not + know him at all. The throstles and skylarks were shy of it, thinking it + might be alive. The wrens fluffed themselves, scolded it, and told it to + get up. The blue titmice flew over it in a flock again and again, with + much sweet gossiping, but they did not venture nearer. A redbreast lighted + on the rose bush that marked Auld Jock's grave, cocked its head knowingly, + and warbled a little song, as much as to say: “If it's alive that will + wake it up.” + </p> + <p> + As Bobby did not stir, the robin fluttered down, studied him from all + sides, made polite inquiries that were not answered, and concluded that it + would be quite safe to take a silver hair for nest lining. Then, startled + by the animal warmth or by a faint, breathing movement, it dropped the + shining trophy and flew away in a shrill panic. At that, all the birds set + up such an excited crying that they waked Tammy. + </p> + <p> + From the rude loophole of a window that projected from the old Cunzie + Neuk, the crippled laddie could see only the shadowy tombs and the long + gray wall of the two kirks, through the sunny haze. But he dropped his + crutches over, and climbed out onto the vault. Never before had Bobby + failed to hear that well-known tap-tap-tapping on the graveled path, nor + failed to trot down to meet it with friskings of welcome. But now he lay + very still, even when a pair of frail arms tried to lift his dead weight + to a heaving breast, and Tammy's cry of woe rang through the kirkyard. In + a moment Ailie and Mistress Jeanie were in the wet grass beside them, half + a hundred casements flew open, and the piping voices of tenement bairns + cried-down: + </p> + <p> + “Did the bittie doggie come hame?” + </p> + <p> + Oh yes, the bittie doggie had come hame, indeed, but down such perilous + heights as none of them dreamed; and now in what a woeful plight! + </p> + <p> + Some murmur of the excitement reached an open dormer of the Temple + tenements, where Geordie Ross had slept with one ear of the born doctor + open. Snatching up a case of first aids to the injured, he ran down the + twisting stairs to the Grassmarket, up to the gate, and around the kirk, + to find a huddled group of women and children weeping over a limp little + bundle of a senseless dog. He thrust a bottle of hartshorn under the black + muzzle, and with a start and a moan Bobby came back to consciousness. + </p> + <p> + “Lay him down flat and stop your havers,” ordered the business-like, + embryo medicine man. “Bobby's no' dead. Laddie, you're a braw soldier for + holding your ain feelings, so just hold the wee dog's head.” Then, in the + reassuring dialect: “Hoots, Bobby, open the bit mou' noo, an' tak' the + medicine like a mannie!” Down the tiny red cavern of a throat Geordie + poured a dose that galvanized the small creature into life. + </p> + <p> + “Noo, then, loup, ye bonny rascal!” + </p> + <p> + Bobby did his best to jump at Geordie's bidding. He was so glad to be at + home and to see all these familiar faces of love that he lifted himself on + his fore paws, and his happy heart almost put the power to loup into his + hind legs. But when he tried to stand up he cried out with the pains and + sank down again, with an apologetic and shamefaced look that was worthy of + Auld Jock himself. Geordie sobered on the instant. + </p> + <p> + “Weel, now, he's been hurt. We'll just have to see what ails the sonsie + doggie.” He ran his hand down the parting in the thatch to discover if the + spine had been injured. When he suddenly pinched the ball of a hind toe + Bobby promptly resented it by jerking his head around and looking at him + reproachfully. The bairns were indignant, too, but Geordie grinned + cheerfully and said: “He's no' paralyzed, at ony rate.” He turned as + footsteps were heard coming hastily around the kirk. + </p> + <p> + “A gude morning to you, Mr. Traill. Bobby may have been run over by a cart + and got internal injuries, but I'm thinking it's just sprains and bruises + from a bad fall. He was in a state of collapse, and his claws are as + broken and his toes as torn as if he had come down Castle Rock.” + </p> + <p> + This was such an extravagant surmise that even the anxious landlord + smiled. Then he said, drily: + </p> + <p> + “You're a braw laddie, Geordie, and gudehearted, but you're no' a doctor + yet, and, with your leave, I'll have my ain medical man tak' a look at + Bobby.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, I would,” Geordie agreed, cordially. “It's worth four shullings to + have your mind at ease, man. I'll just go up to the lodge and get a warm + bath ready, to tak' the stiffness out of his muscles, and brew a tea from + an herb that wee wild creatures know all about and aye hunt for when + they're ailing.” + </p> + <p> + Geordie went away gaily, to take disorder and evil smells into Mistress + Jeanie's shining kitchen. + </p> + <p> + No sooner had the medical student gone up to the lodge, and the children + had been persuaded to go home to watch the proceedings anxiously from the + amphitheater of the tenement windows, than the kirkyard gate was slammed + back noisily by a man in a hurry. It was the sergeant who, in the splendor + of full uniform, dropped in the wet grass beside Bobby. + </p> + <p> + “Lush! The sma' dog got hame, an' is still leevin'. Noo, God forgie me—” + </p> + <p> + “Eh, man, what had you to do with Bobby's misadventure?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Traill fixed an accusing eye on the soldier, remembering suddenly his + laughing threat to kidnap Bobby. The story came out in a flood of + remorseful words, from Bobby's following of the troops so gaily into the + Castle to his desperate escape over the precipice. + </p> + <p> + “Noo,” he said, humbly, “gin it wad be ony satisfaction to ye, I'll gang + up to the Castle an' put on fatigue dress, no' to disgrace the unifarm o' + her Maijesty, an' let ye tak' me oot on the Burghmuir an' gie me a gude + lickin'.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Traill shrugged his shoulders. “Naething would satisfy me, man, but to + get behind you and kick you over the Firth into the Kingdom of Fife.” + </p> + <p> + He turned an angry back on the sergeant and helped Geordie lift Bobby onto + Mrs. Brown's braided hearth-rug and carry the improvised litter up to the + lodge. In the kitchen the little dog was lowered into a hot bath, dried, + and rubbed with liniments under his fleece. After his lacerated feet had + been cleaned and dressed with healing ointments and tied up, Bobby was + wrapped in Mistress Jeanie's best flannel petticoat and laid on the + hearth-rug, a very comfortable wee dog, who enjoyed his breakfast of broth + and porridge. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Brown, hearing the commotion and perishing of curiosity, demanded that + some one should come and help him out of bed. As no attention was paid to + him he managed to get up himself and to hobble out to the kitchen just as + Mr. Traill's ain medical man came in. Bobby's spine was examined again, + the tail and toes nipped, the heart tested, and all the soft parts of his + body pressed and punched, in spite of the little dog's vigorous objections + to these indignities. + </p> + <p> + “Except for sprains and bruises the wee dog is all right. Came down Castle + Crag in the fog, did he? He's a clever and plucky little chap, indeed, and + deserving of a hero medal to hang on the Lord Provost's collar. You've + done very well, Mr. Ross. Just take as good care of him for a week or so + and he could do the gallant deed again.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Brown listened to the story of Bobby's adventures with a mingled look + of disgust at the foolishness of men, pride in Bobby's prowess, and + resentment at having been left out of the drama of the night before. “It's + maist michty, noo, Maister Traill, that ye wad tak' the leeberty o' leein' + to me,” he complained. + </p> + <p> + “It was a gude lee or a bad nicht for an ill man. Geordie will tell you + that a mind at ease is worth four shullings, and I'm charging you + naething. Eh, man, you're deeficult to please.” As he went out into the + kirkyard Mr. Traill stopped to reflect on a strange thing: “'You've done + very well, Mr. Ross.' Weel, weel, how the laddies do grow up! But I'm no' + going to admit it to Geordie.” + </p> + <p> + Another thought, over which he chuckled, sent him off to find the + sergeant. The soldier was tramping gloomily about in the wet, to the + demoralization of his beautiful boots. + </p> + <p> + “Man, since a stormy nicht eight years ago last November I've aye been + looking for a bigger weel meaning fule than my ain sel'. You're the man, + so if you'll just shak' hands we'll say nae more about it.” + </p> + <p> + He did not explain this cryptic remark, but he went on to assure the sorry + soldier that Bobby had got no serious hurt and would soon be as well as + ever. They had turned toward the gate when a stranger with a newspaper in + his hand peered mildly around the kirk and inquired “Do ye ken whaur's the + sma' dog, man?” As Mr. Traill continued to stare at him he explained, + patiently: “It's Greyfriars Bobby, the bittie terrier the Laird Provost + gied the collar to. Hae ye no' seen 'The Scotsman' the day?” + </p> + <p> + The landlord had not. And there was the story, Bobby's, name heading quite + a quarter of a broad column of fine print, and beginning with: “A very + singular and interesting occurrence was brought to light in the Burgh + court by the hearing of a summons in regard to a dog tax.” Bobby was a + famous dog, and Mr. Traill came in for a goodly portion of reflected + glory. He threw up his hands in dismay. + </p> + <p> + “It's all over the toon, Sergeant.” Turning to the stranger, he assured + him that Bobby was not to be seen. “He hurt himsel' coming down Castle + Rock in the nicht, and is in the lodge with the caretaker, wha's fair ill. + Hoo do I ken?” testily. “Weel, man, I'm Mr. Traill.” + </p> + <p> + He saw at once how unwise was that admission, for he had to shake hands + with the cordial stranger. And after dismissing him there was another at + the gate who insisted upon going up to the lodge to see the little hero. + Here was a state of things, indeed, that called upon all the powers of the + resourceful landlord. + </p> + <p> + “All the folk in Edinburgh will be coming, and the poor woman be deaved + with their spiering.” And then he began to laugh. “Did you ever hear o' + sic a thing as poetic justice, Sergeant? Nae, it's no' the kind you'll get + in the courts of law. Weel, it's poetic justice for a birkie soldier, wha + claims the airth and the fullness thereof, to have to tak' his orders from + a sma' shopkeeper. Go up to the police office in St. Gila now and ask for + an officer to stand at the gate here to answer questions, and to keep the + folk awa' from the lodge.” + </p> + <p> + He stood guard himself, and satisfied a score of visitors before the + sergeant came back, and there was another instance of poetic justice, in + the crestfallen Burgh policeman who had been sent with instructions to + take his orders from the delighted landlord. + </p> + <p> + “Eh, Davie, it's a lang lane that has nae turning. Ye're juist to stand + here a' the day an' say to ilka body wha spiers for the dog: 'Ay, sir, + Greyfriars Bobby's been leevin' i' the kirkyaird aucht years an' mair, an' + Maister Traill's aye fed 'im i' the dining-rooms. Ay, the case was + dismissed i' the Burgh coort. The Laird Provost gied a collar to the bit + Skye because there's a meddlin' fule or twa amang the Burgh police wha'd + be takin' 'im up. The doggie's i' the lodge wi' the caretaker, wha's fair + ill, an' he canna be seen the day. But gang aroond the kirk an' ye can see + Auld Jock's grave that he's aye guarded. There's nae stave to it, but it's + neist to the fa'en table-tomb o' Mistress Jean Grant. A gude day to ye.' + Hae ye got a' that, man? Weel, cheer up. Yell hae to say it nae mair than + a thousand times or twa, atween noo an' nichtfa'.” + </p> + <p> + He went away laughing at the penance that was laid upon his foe. The + landlord felt so well satisfied with the world that he took another jaunty + crack at the sergeant: “By richts, man, you ought to go to gaol, but I'll + just fine you a shulling a month for Bobby's natural lifetime, to give the + wee soldier a treat of a steak or a chop once a week.” + </p> + <p> + Hands were struck heartily on the bargain, and the two men parted good + friends. Now, finding Ailie dropping tears in the dish-water, Mr. Traill + sent her flying down to the lodge with instructions to make herself useful + to Mrs. Brown. Then he was himself besieged in his place of business by + folk of high and low degree who were disappointed by their failure to see + Bobby in the kirkyard. Greyfriars Dining-Rooms had more distinguished + visitors in a day than they had had in all the years since Auld Jock died + and a little dog fell there at the landlord's feet “a' but deid wi' + hunger.” + </p> + <p> + Not one of all the grand folk who, inquired for Bobby at the kirkyard or + at the restaurant got a glimpse of him that day. But after they were gone + the tenement dwellers came up to the gate again, as they had gathered the + evening before, and begged that they might just tak' a look at him and his + braw collar. “The bonny bit is the bairns' ain doggie, an' the Laird + Provost himsel' told 'em he wasna to be neglectet,” was one mother's plea. + </p> + <p> + Ah! that was very true. To the grand folk who had come to see him, Bobby + was only a nine-days' wonder. His story had touched the hearts of all + orders of society. For a time strangers would come to see him, and then + they would forget all about him or remember him only fitfully. It was to + these poor people around the kirkyard, themselves forgotten by the more + fortunate, that the little dog must look for his daily meed of affection + and companionship. Mr. Traill spoke to them kindly. + </p> + <p> + “Bide a wee, noo, an' I'll fetch the doggie doon.” + </p> + <p> + Bobby had slept blissfully nearly all the day, after his exhausting labors + and torturing pains. But with the sunset bugle he fretted to be let out. + Ailie had wept and pleaded, Mrs. Brown had reasoned with him, and Mr. + Brown had scolded, all to the end of persuading him to sleep in “the hoose + the nicht.” But when no one was watching him Bobby crawled from his rug + and dragged himself to the door. He rapped the floor with his tail in + delight when Mr. Traill came in and bundled him up on the rug, so he could + lie easily, and carried him down to the gate. + </p> + <p> + For quite twenty minutes these neighbors and friends of Bobby filed by + silently, patted the shaggy little head, looked at the grand plate with + Bobby's and the Lord Provost's names upon it, and believed their own + wondering een. Bobby wagged his tail and lolled his tongue, and now and + then he licked the hand of a baby who had to be lifted by a tall brother + to see him. Shy kisses were dropped on Bobby's head by toddling bairns, + and awkward caresses by rough laddies. Then they all went home quietly, + and Mr. Traill carried the little dog around the kirk. + </p> + <p> + And there, ah! so belated, Auld Jock's grave bore its tribute of flowers. + Wreaths and nosegays, potted daffodils and primroses and daisies, covered + the sunken mound so that some of them had to be moved to make room for + Bobby. He sniffed and sniffed at them, looked up inquiringly at Mr. + Traill; and then snuggled down contentedly among the blossoms. He did not + understand their being there any more than he understood the collar about + which everybody made such a to-do. The narrow band of leather would + disappear under his thatch again, and would be unnoticed by the casual + passer-by; the flowers would fade and never be so lavishly renewed; but + there was another more wonderful gift, now, that would never fail him. + </p> + <p> + At nightfall, before the drum and bugle sounded the tattoo to call the + scattered garrison in the Castle, there took place a loving ceremony that + was never afterward omitted as long as Bobby lived. Every child newly come + to the tenements learned it, every weanie lisped it among his first words. + Before going to bed each bairn opened a casement. Sometimes a candle was + held up—a little star of love, glimmering for a moment on the dark; + but always there was a small face peering into the melancholy kirkyard. In + midsummer, and at other seasons if the moon rose full and early and the + sky was clear, Bobby could be seen on the grave. And when he recovered + from these hurts he trotted about, making the circuit below the windows. + He could not speak there, because he had been forbidden, but he could wag + his tail and look up to show his friendliness. And whether the children + saw him or not they knew he was always there after sunset, keeping watch + and ward, and “lanely” because his master had gone away to heaven; and so + they called out to him sweetly and clearly: + </p> + <p> + “A gude nicht to ye, Bobby.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XII. + </h2> + <p> + In one thing Mr. Traill had been mistaken: the grand folk did not forget + Bobby. At the end of five years the leal Highlander was not only still + remembered, but he had become a local celebrity. + </p> + <p> + Had the grave of his haunting been on the Pentlands or in one of the + outlying cemeteries of the city Bobby must have been known to few of his + generation, and to fame not at all. But among churchyards Greyfriars was + distinguished. One of the historic show-places of Edinburgh, and in the + very heart of the Old Town, it was never missed by the most hurried + tourist, seldom left unvisited, from year to year, by the oldest resident. + Names on its old tombs had come to mean nothing to those who read them, + except as they recalled memorable records of love, of inspiration, of + courage, of self-sacrifice. And this being so, it touched the imagination + to see, among the marbles that crumbled toward the dust below, a living + embodiment of affection and fidelity. Indeed, it came to be remarked, as + it is remarked to-day, although four decades have gone by, that no other + spot in Greyfriars was so much cared for as the grave of a man of whom + nothing was known except that the life and love of a little dog was + consecrated to his memory. + </p> + <p> + At almost any hour Bobby might be found there. As he grew older he became + less and less willing to be long absent, and he got much of his exercise + by nosing about among the neighboring thorns. In fair weather he took his + frequent naps on the turf above his master, or he sat on the fallen + table-tomb in the sun. On foul days he watched the grave from under the + slab, and to that spot he returned from every skirmish against the enemy. + Visitors stopped to speak to him. Favored ones were permitted to read the + inscription on his collar and to pat his head. It seemed, therefore, the + most natural thing in the world when the greatest lady in England, beside + the Queen, the Baroness Burdett-Coutts, came all the way from London to + see Bobby. + </p> + <p> + Except that it was the first Monday in June, and Founder's Day at Heriot's + Hospital, it was like any other day of useful work, innocent pleasure, and + dreaming dozes on Auld Jock's grave to wee Bobby. As years go, the shaggy + little Skye was an old dog, but he was not feeble or blind or unhappy. A + terrier, as a rule, does not live as long as more sluggish breeds of dogs, + but, active to the very end, he literally wears himself out tearing + around, and then goes, little soldier, very suddenly, dying gallantly with + his boots on. + </p> + <p> + In the very early mornings of the northern summer Bobby woke with the + birds, a long time before the reveille was sounded from the Castle. He + scampered down to the circling street of tombs at once, and not until the + last prowler had been dispatched, or frightened into his burrow, did he + return for a brief nap on Auld Jock's grave. + </p> + <p> + All about him the birds fluttered and hopped and gossiped and foraged, + unafraid. They were used, by this time, to seeing the little dog lying + motionless, his nose on his paws. Often some tidbit of food lay there, + brought for Bobby by a stranger. He had learned that a Scotch bun dropped + near him was a feast that brought feathered visitors about and won their + confidence and cheerful companionship. When he awoke he lay there lolling + and blinking, following the blue rovings of the titmice and listening to + the foolish squabbles of the sparrows and the shrewish scoldings of the + wrens. He always started when a lark sprang at his feet and a cataract of + melody tumbled from the sky. + </p> + <p> + But, best of all, Bobby loved a comfortable and friendly robin redbreast—not + the American thrush that is called a robin, but the smaller Old World + warbler. It had its nest of grass and moss and feathers, and many a silver + hair shed by Bobby, low in a near-by thorn bush. In sweet and plaintive + talking notes it told its little dog companion all about the babies that + had left the nest and the new brood that would soon be there. On the + morning of that wonderful day of the Grand Leddy's first coming, Bobby and + the redbreast had a pleasant visit together before the casements began to + open and the tenement bairns called down their morning greeting: + </p> + <p> + “A gude day to ye, Bobby.” + </p> + <p> + By the time all these courtesies had been returned Tammy came in at the + gate with his college books strapped on his back. The old Cunzic Neuk had + been demolished by Glenormiston, and Tammy, living in better quarters, was + studying to be a teacher at Heriot's. Bobby saw him settled, and then he + had to escort Mr. Brown down from the lodge. The caretaker made his way + about stiffly with a cane and, with the aid of a young helper who + exasperated the old gardener by his cheerful inefficiency, kept the auld + kirkyard in beautiful order. + </p> + <p> + “Eh, ye gude-for-naethin' tyke,” he said to Bobby, in transparent pretense + of his uselessness. “Get to wark, or I'll hae a young dog in to gie ye a + lift, an' syne whaur'll ye be?” + </p> + <p> + Bobby jumped on him in open delight at this, as much as to say: “Ye may be + as dour as ye like, but ilka body kens ye're gude-hearted.” + </p> + <p> + Morning and evening numerous friends passed the gate, and the wee dog + waited for them on the wicket. Dr. George Ross and Mr. Alexander McGregor + shook Bobby's lifted paw and called him a sonsie rascal. Small merchants, + students, clerks, factory workers, house servants, laborers and vendors, + all honest and useful people, had come up out of these old tenements + within Bobby's memory; and others had gone down, alas! into the Cowgate. + But Bobby's tail wagged for these unfortunates, too, and some of them had + no other friend in the world beside that uncalculating little dog. + </p> + <p> + When the morning stream of auld acquaintance had gone by, and none forgot, + Bobby went up to the lodge to sit for an hour with Mistress Jeanie. There + he was called “croodlin' doo”—which was altogether absurd—by + the fond old woman. As neat of plumage, and as busy and talkative about + small domestic matters as the robin, Bobby loved to watch the wifie + stirring savory messes over the fire, watering her posies, cleaning the + fluttering skylark's cage, or just sitting by the hearth or in the sunny + doorway with him, knitting warm stockings for her rheumatic gude-mon. + </p> + <p> + Out in the kirkyard Bobby trotted dutifully at the caretaker's heels. When + visitors were about he did not venture to take a nap in the open unless + Mr. Brown was on guard, and, by long and close companionship with him, the + aging man could often tell what Bobby was dreaming about. At a convulsive + movement and a jerk of his head the caretaker would say to the wifie, if + she chanced to be near: + </p> + <p> + “Leuk at that, noo, wull ye? The sperity bit was takin' thae fou' vermin.” + And again, when the muscles of his legs worked rhythmically, “He's rinnin' + wi' the laddies or the braw soldiers on the braes.” + </p> + <p> + Bobby often woke from a dream with a start, looked dazed, and then + foolish, at the vivid imaginings of sleep. But when, in a doze, he half + stretched himself up on his short, shagged fore paws, flattened out, and + then awoke and lay so, very still, for a time, it was Mistress Jeanie who + said: + </p> + <p> + “Preserve us a'! The bonny wee was dreamin' o' his maister's deith, an' + noo he's greetin' sair.” + </p> + <p> + At that she took her little stool and sat on the grave beside him. But Mr. + Brown bit his teeth in his pipe, limped away, and stormed at his daft + helper laddie, who didn't appear to know a violet from a burdock. + </p> + <p> + Ah! who can doubt that, so deeply were scene and word graven on his + memory, Bobby often lived again the hour of his bereavement, and heard + Auld Jock's last words: + </p> + <p> + “Gang—awa'—hame—laddie!” + </p> + <p> + Homeless on earth, gude Auld Jock had gone to a place prepared for him. + But his faithful little dog had no home. This sacred spot was merely his + tarrying place, where he waited until such a time as that mysterious door + should open for him, perchance to an equal sky, and he could slip through + and find his master. + </p> + <p> + On the morning of the day when the Grand Leddy came Bobby watched the + holiday crowd gather on Heriot's Hospital grounds. The mothers and sisters + of hundreds of boys were there, looking on at the great match game of + cricket. Bobby dropped over the wall and scampered about, taking a merry + part in the play. When the pupils' procession was formed, and the long + line of grinning and nudging laddies marched in to service in the chapel + and dinner in the hall, he was set up over the kirkyard wall, hundreds of + hands were waved to him, and voices called back: “Fareweel, Bobby!” Then + the time-gun boomed from the Castle, and the little dog trotted up for his + dinner and nap under the settle and his daily visit with Mr. Traill. + </p> + <p> + In fair weather, when the last guest had departed and the music bells of + St. Giles had ceased playing, the landlord was fond of standing in his + doorway, bareheaded and in shirt-sleeves and apron, to exchange opinions + on politics, literature and religion, or to tell Bobby's story to what + passers-by he could beguile into talk. At his feet, there, was a fine + place for a sociable little dog to spend an hour. When he was ready to go + Bobby set his paws upon Mr. Traill and waited for the landlord's hand to + be laid on his head and the man to say, in the dialect the little dog best + understood: “Bide a wee. Ye're no' needin' to gang sae sune, laddie!” + </p> + <p> + At that he dropped, barked politely, wagged his tail, and was off. If Mr. + Traill really wanted to detain Bobby he had only to withhold the magic + word “laddie,” that no one else had used toward the little dog since Auld + Jock died. But if the word was too long in coming, Bobby would thrash his + tail about impatiently, look up appealingly, and finally rise and beg and + whimper. + </p> + <p> + “Weel, then, bide wi' me, an' ye'll get it ilka hour o' the day, ye + sonsie, wee, talon' bit! What are ye hangin' aroond for? Eh—weel—gang + awa' wi' ye—laddie!” The landlord sighed and looked down + reproachfully. With a delighted yelp, and a lick of the lingering hand, + Bobby was off. + </p> + <p> + It was after three o'clock on this day when he returned to the kirkyard. + The caretaker was working at the upper end, and the little dog was lonely. + But; long enough absent from his master, Bobby lay down on the grave, in + the stillness of the mid-afternoon. The robin made a brief call and, as no + other birds were about, hopped upon Bobby's back, perched on his head, and + warbled a little song. It was then that the gate clicked. Dismissing her + carriage and telling the coachman to return at five, Lady Burdett-Coutts + entered the kirkyard. + </p> + <p> + Bobby trotted around the kirk on the chance of meeting a friend. He looked + up intently at the strange lady for a moment, and she stood still and + looked down at him. She was not a beautiful lady, nor very young. Indeed, + she was a few years older than the Queen, and the Queen was a widowed + grandmother. But she had a sweet dignity and warm serenity—an + unhurried look, as if she had all the time in the world for a wee dog; and + Bobby was an age-whitened muff of a plaintive terrier that captured her + heart at once. Very certain that this stranger knew and cared about how he + felt, Bobby turned and led her down to Auld Jock's grave. And when she was + seated on the table-tomb he came up to her and let her look at his collar, + and he stood under her caress, although she spoke to him in fey English, + calling him a darling little dog. Then, entirely contented with her + company, he lay down, his eyes fixed upon her and lolling his tongue. + </p> + <p> + The sun was on the green and flowery slope of Greyfriars, warming the + weathered tombs and the rear windows of the tenements. The Grand Leddy + found a great deal there to interest her beside Bobby and the robin that + chirped and picked up crumbs between the little dog's paws. Presently the + gate was opened again and a housemaid from some mansion in George Square + came around the kirk. Trained by Mistress Jeanie, she was a neat and + pretty and pleasant-mannered housemaid, in a black gown and white apron, + and with a frilled cap on her crinkly, gold-brown hair that had had more + than “a lick or twa the nicht afore.” + </p> + <p> + “It's juist Ailie,” Bobby seemed to say, as he stood a moment with crested + neck and tail. “Ilka body kens Ailie.” + </p> + <p> + The servant lassie, with an hour out, had stopped to speak to Bobby. She + had not meant to stay long, but the lady, who didn't look in the least + grand, began to think friendly things aloud. + </p> + <p> + “The windows of the tenements are very clean.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay. The bairnies couldna see Bobby gin the windows warna washed.” The + lassie was pulling her adored little pet's ears, and Bobby was nuzzling up + to her. + </p> + <p> + “In many of the windows there is a box of flowers, or of kitchen herbs to + make the broth savory.” + </p> + <p> + “It wasna so i' the auld days. It was aye washin's clappin' aboon the + stanes. Noo, mony o' the mithers hang the claes oot at nicht. Ilka thing + is changed sin' I was a wean an' leevin' i' the auld Guildhall, the + bairnies haen Bobby to lo'e, an' no' to be neglectet.” She continued the + conversation to include Tammy as he came around the kirk on his tapping + crutches. + </p> + <p> + “Hoo mony years is it, Tammy, sin' Bobby's been leevin' i' the auld + kirkyaird? At Maister Traill's snawy picnic ye war five gangin' on sax.” + They exchanged glances in which lay one of the happy memories of sad + childhoods. + </p> + <p> + “Noo I'm nineteen going on twenty. It's near fourteen years syne, Ailie.” + Nearly all the burrs had been pulled from Tammy's tongue, but he used a + Scotch word now and then, no' to shame Ailie's less cultivated speech. + </p> + <p> + “So long?” murmured the Grand Leddy. “Bobby is getting old, very old for a + terrier.” + </p> + <p> + As if to deny that, Bobby suddenly shot down the slope in answer to a cry + of alarm from a song thrush. Still good for a dash, when he came back he + dropped panting. The lady put her hand on his rippling coat and felt his + heart pounding. Then she looked at his worn down teeth and lifted his + veil. Much of the luster was gone from Bobby's brown eyes, but they were + still soft and deep and appealing. + </p> + <p> + From the windows children looked down upon the quiet group and, without in + the least knowing why they wanted to be there, too, the tenement bairns + began to drop into the kirkyard. Almost at once it rained—a quick, + bright, dashing shower that sent them all flying and laughing up to the + shelter of the portico to the new kirk. Bobby scampered up, too, and with + the bairns in holiday duddies crowding about her, and the wee dog lolling + at her feet, the Grand Leddy talked fairy stories. + </p> + <p> + She told them all about a pretty country place near London. It was called + Holly Lodge because its hedges were bright with green leaves and red + berries, even in winter. A lady who had no family at all lived there, and + to keep her company she had all sorts of pets. Peter and Prince were the + dearest dogs, and Cocky was a parrot that could say the most amusing + things. Sir Garnet was the llama goat, or sheep—she didn't know + which. There was a fat and lazy old pony that had long been pensioned off + on oats and clover, and—oh yes—the white donkey must not be + forgotten! + </p> + <p> + “O-o-o-oh! I didna ken there wad be ony white donkeys!” cried a big-eyed + laddie. + </p> + <p> + “There cannot be many, and there's a story about how the lady came to have + this one. One day, driving in a poor street, she saw a coster—that + is a London peddler—beating his tired donkey that refused to pull + the load. The lady got out of her carriage, fed the animal some carrots + from the cart, talked kindly to him right into his big, surprised ear, and + stroked his nose. Presently the poor beast felt better and started off + cheerfully with the heavy cart. When many costers learned that it was not + only wicked but foolish to abuse their patient animals, they hunted for a + white donkey to give the lady. They put a collar of flowers about his + neck, and brought him up on a platform before a crowd of people. Everybody + laughed, for he was a clumsy and comical beast to be decorated with roses + and daisies. But the lady is proud of him, and now that pampered donkey + has nothing to do but pull her Bath chair about, when she is at Holly + Lodge, and kick up his heels on a clover pasture.” + </p> + <p> + “Are ye kennin' anither tale, Leddy?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, a number of them. Prince, the fox terrier, was ill once, and the + doctor who came to see him said his mistress gave him too much to eat. + That was very probable, because that lady likes to see children and + animals have too much to eat. There are dozens and dozens of poor children + that the lady knows and loves. Once they lived in a very dark and dirty + and crowded tenement, quite as bad as some that were torn down in the + Cowgate and the Grassmarket.” + </p> + <p> + “It mak's ye fecht ane anither,” said one laddie, soberly. “Gin they had a + sonsie doggie like Bobby to lo'e, an' an auld kirkyaird wi' posies an' + birdies to leuk into, they wadna fecht sae muckle.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm very sure of that. Well, the lady built a new tenement with plenty of + room and light and air, and a market so they can get better food more + cheaply, and a large church, that is also a kind of school where big and + little people can learn many things. She gives the children of the + neighborhood a Christmas dinner and a gay tree, and she strips the hedges + of Holly Lodge for them, and then she takes Peter and Prince, and Cocky + the parrot, to help along the fun, and she tells her newest stories. Next + Christmas she means to tell the story of Greyfriars Bobby, and how all his + little Scotch friends are better-behaving and cleaner and happier because + they have that wee dog to love.” + </p> + <p> + “Ilka body lo'es Bobby. He wasna ever mistreatet or neglectet,” said + Ailie, thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Oh—my—dear! That's the very best part of the story!” The + Grand Leddy had a shining look. + </p> + <p> + The rain had ceased and the sun come out, and the children began to be + called away. There was quite a little ceremony of lingering leave-taking + with the lady and with Bobby, and while this was going on Ailie had a + “sairious” confidence for her old playfellow. + </p> + <p> + “Tammy, as the leddy says, Bobby's gettin' auld. I ken whaur's a snawy + hawthorn aboon the burn in Swanston Dell. The throstles nest there, an' + the blackbirds whustle bonny. It isna so far but the bairnies could march + oot wi' posies.” She turned to the lady, who had overheard her. “We gied a + promise to the Laird Provost to gie Bobby a grand funeral. Ye ken he + wullna be permittet to be buried i' the kirkyaird.” + </p> + <p> + “Will he not? I had not thought of that.” Her tone was at once hushed and + startled. + </p> + <p> + Then she was down in the grass, brooding over the little dog, and Bobby + had the pathetic look of trying to understand what this emotional talk, + that seemed to concern himself, was about. Tammy and Ailie were down, too. + </p> + <p> + “Are ye thinkin' Bobby wall be kennin' the deeference?” Ailie's bluebell + eyes were wide at the thought of pain for this little pet. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know, my dear. But there cannot well be more love in this world + than there is room for in God's heaven.” + </p> + <p> + She was silent all the way to the gate, some thought in her mind already + working toward a gracious deed. At the last she said: “The little dog is + fond of you both. Be with him all you can, for I think his beautiful life + is near its end.” After a pause, during which her face was lighted by a + smile, as if from a lovely thought within, she added: “Don't let Bobby die + before my return from London.” + </p> + <p> + In a week she was back, and in the meantime letters and telegrams had been + flying, and many wheels set in motion in wee Bobby's affairs. When she + returned to the churchyard, very early one morning, no less a person than + the Lord Provost himself was with her. Five years had passed, but Mr.—no, + Sir William—Chambers, Laird of Glenormiston, for he had been + knighted by the Queen, was still Lord Provost of Edinburgh. + </p> + <p> + Almost immediately Mr. Traill appeared, by appointment, and was made all + but speechless for once in his loquacious life by the honor of being asked + to tell Bobby's story to the Baroness Burdett-Coutts. But not even a + tenement child or a London coster could be ill at ease with the Grand + Leddy for very long, and presently the three were in close conference in + the portico. Bobby welcomed them, and then dozed in the sun and visited + with the robin on Auld Jock's grave. Far from being tongue-tied, the + landlord was inspired. What did he not remember, from the pathetic + renunciation, “Bobby isna ma ain dog,” down to the leal Highlander's last, + near tragic reminder to men that in the nameless grave lay his unforgotten + master. + </p> + <p> + He sketched the scene in Haddo's Hole, where the tenement bairns poured + out as pure a gift of love and mercy and self-sacrifice as had ever been + laid at the foot of a Scottish altar. He told of the search for the lately + ransomed and lost terrier, by the lavish use of oil and candles; of + Bobby's coming down Castle Rock in the fog, battered and bruised for a + month's careful tending by an old Heriot laddie. His feet still showed the + scars of that perilous descent. He himself, remorseful, had gone with the + Biblereader from the Medical Mission in the Cowgate to the dormer-lighted + closet in College Wynd, where Auld Jock had died. Now he described the + classic fireplace of white freestone, with its boxed-in bed, where the + Pentland shepherd lay like some effigy on a bier, with the wee guardian + dog stretched on the flagged hearth below. + </p> + <p> + “What a subject for a monument!” The Grand Leddy looked across the top of + the slope at the sleeping Skye. “I suppose there is no portrait of Bobby.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, your Leddyship; I have a drawing in the dining rooms, sketched by Mr. + Daniel Maclise. He was here a year or twa ago, just before his death, + doing some commission, and often had his tea in my bit place. I told him + Bobby's story, and he made the sketch for me as a souvenir of his veesit.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure you prize it, Mr. Traill. Mr. Maclise was a talented artist, + but he was not especially an animal painter. There really is no one since + Landseer paints no more.” + </p> + <p> + “I would advise you, Baroness, not to make that remark at an Edinburgh + dinner-table.” Glenormiston was smiling. “The pride of Auld Reekie just + now is Mr. Gourlay Stelle, who was lately commanded to Balmoral Castle to + paint the Queen's dogs.” + </p> + <p> + “The very person! I have seen his beautiful canvas—'Burns and the + Field Mouse.' Is he not a younger brother of Sir John Stelle, the sculptor + of the statue and character figures in the Scott monument?” Her eyes + sparkled as she added: “You have so much talent of the right, sorts here + that it would be wicked not to employ it in the good cause.” + </p> + <p> + What “the good cause” was came out presently, in the church, where she + startled even Glenormiston and Mr. Traill by saying quietly to the + minister and the church officers of Greyfriars auld kirk: “When Bobby dies + I want him laid in the grave with his master.” + </p> + <p> + Every member of both congregations knew Bobby and was proud of his fame, + but no official notice had ever been taken of the little dog's presence in + the churchyard. The elders and deacons were, in truth, surprised that such + distinguished attention should be directed to him now, and they were + embarrassed by it. It was not easy for any body of men in the United + Kingdom to refuse anything to Lady Burdett-Coutts, because she could + always count upon having the sympathy of the public. But this, they + declared, could not be considered. To propose to bury a dog in the + historic churchyard would scandalize the city. To this objection + Glenormiston said, seriously: “The feeling about Bobby is quite + exceptional. I would be willing to put the matter to the test of heading a + petition.” + </p> + <p> + At that the church officers threw up their hands. They preferred to sound + public sentiment themselves, and would consider it. But if Bobby was + permitted to be buried with his master there must be no notice taken of + it. Well, the Heriot laddies might line up along the wall, and the + tenement bairns look down from the windows. Would that satisfy her + ladyship? + </p> + <p> + “As far as it goes.” The Grand Leddy was smiling, but a little tremulous + about the mouth. + </p> + <p> + That was a day when women had little to say in public, and she meant to + make a speech, and to ask to be allowed to do an unheard-of thing. + </p> + <p> + “I want to put up a monument to the nameless man who inspired such love, + and to the little dog that was capable of giving it. Ah gentlemen, do not + refuse, now.” She sketched her idea of the classic fireplace bier, the + dead shepherd of the Pentlands, and the little prostrate terrier. + “Immemorial man and his faithful dog. Our society for the prevention of + cruelty to animals is finding it so hard to get people even to admit the + sacredness of life in dumb creatures, the brutalizing effects of abuse of + them on human beings, and the moral and practical worth to us of kindness. + To insist that a dog feels, that he loves devotedly and with less + calculation than men, that he grieves at a master's death and remembers + him long years, brings a smile of amusement. Ah yes! Here in Scotland, + too, where your own great Lord Erskine was a pioneer of pity two + generations ago, and with Sir Walter's dogs beloved of the literary, and + Doctor Brown's immortal 'Rab,' we find it uphill work. + </p> + <p> + “The story of Greyfriars Bobby is quite the most complete and remarkable + ever recorded in dog annals. His lifetime of devotion has been witnessed + by thousands, and honored publicly, by your own Lord Provost, with the + freedom of the city, a thing that, I believe, has no precedent. All the + endearing qualities of the dog reach their height in this loyal and + lovable Highland terrier; and he seems to have brought out the best + qualities of the people who have known him. Indeed, for fourteen years + hundreds of disinherited children have been made kinder and happier by + knowing Bobby's story and having that little dog to love.” + </p> + <p> + She stopped in some embarrassment, seeing how she had let herself go, in + this warm championship, and then she added: + </p> + <p> + “Bobby does not need a monument, but I think we need one of him, that + future generations may never forget what the love of a dog may mean, to + himself and to us.” + </p> + <p> + The Grand Leddy must have won her plea, then and there, but for the fact + that the matter of erecting a monument of a public character anywhere in + the city had to come up before the Burgh council. In that body the + stubborn opposition of a few members unexpectedly developed, and, in spite + of popular sympathy with the proposal, the plan was rejected. Permission + was given, however, for Lady Burdett-Coutts to put up a suitable memorial + to Bobby at the end of George IV Bridge, and opposite the main gateway to + the kirkyard. + </p> + <p> + For such a public place a tomb was unsuitable. What form the memorial was + to take was not decided upon until, because of two chance happenings of + one morning, the form of it bloomed like a flower in the soul of the Grand + Leddy. She had come down to the kirkyard to watch the artist at work. + Morning after morning he had sketched there. He had drawn Bobby lying + down, his nose on his paws, asleep on the grave. He had drawn him sitting + upon the table-tomb, and standing in the begging attitude in which he was + so irresistible. But with every sketch he was dissatisfied. + </p> + <p> + Bobby was a trying and deceptive subject. He had the air of curiosity and + gaiety of other terriers. He saw no sense at all in keeping still, with + his muzzle tipped up or down, and his tail held just so. He brushed all + that unreasonable man's suggestions aside as quite unworthy of + consideration. Besides, he had the liveliest interest in the astonishing + little dog that grew and disappeared, and came back, in some new attitude, + on the canvas. He scraped acquaintance with it once or twice to the damage + of fresh brush-work. He was always jumping from his pose and running + around the easel to see how the latest dog was coming on. + </p> + <p> + After a number of mornings Bobby lost interest in the man and his + occupation and went about his ordinary routine of life as if the artist + was not there at all. One morning the wee terrier was found sitting on the + table-tomb, on his haunches, looking up toward the Castle, where clouds + and birds were blown around the sun-gilded battlements. + </p> + <p> + His attitude might have meant anything or nothing, for the man who looked + at him from above could not see his expression. And all at once he + realized that to see Bobby a human being must get down to his level. To + the scandal of the children, he lay on his back on the grass and did + nothing at all but look up at Bobby until the little dog moved. Then he + set the wee Highlander up on an altar-topped shaft just above the level of + the human eye. Indifferent at the moment as to what was done to him, Bobby + continued to gaze up and out, wistfully and patiently, upon this + masterless world. As plainly as a little dog could speak, Bobby said: + </p> + <p> + “I hae bided lang an' lanely. Hoo lang hae I still to bide? An' syne, wull + I be gangin' to Auld Jock?” + </p> + <p> + The Grand Leddy saw that at once, and tears started to her eyes when she + came in to find the artist sketching with feverish rapidity. She confessed + that she had looked into Bobby's eyes, but she had never truly seen that + mourning little creature before. He had only to be set up so, in bronze, + and looking through the kirkyard gate, to tell his own story to the most + careless passerby. The image of the simple memorial was clear in her mind, + and it seemed unlikely that anything could be added to it, when she left + the kirkyard. + </p> + <p> + As she was getting into her carriage a noble collie, but one with a + discouraged tail and hanging tongue, came out of Forest Road. He had done + a hard morning's work, of driving a flock from the Pentlands to the cattle + and sheep market, and then had hunted far and unsuccessfully for water. He + nosed along the gutter, here and there licking from the cobblestones what + muddy moisture had not drained away from a recent rain. The same lady who + had fed the carrots to the coster's donkey in London turned hastily into + Ye Olde Greyfriars Dining-Rooms, and asked Mr. Traill for a basin of + water. The landlord thought he must have misunderstood her. “Is it a glass + of water your Leddyship's wanting?” + </p> + <p> + “No, a basin, please; a large one, and very quickly.” + </p> + <p> + She took it from him, hurried out, and set it under the thirsty animal's + nose. The collie lapped it eagerly until the water was gone, then looked + up and, by waggings and lickings, asked for more. Mr. Traill brought out a + second basin, and he remarked upon a sheep-dog's capacity for water. + </p> + <p> + “It's no' a basin will satisfy him, used as he is to having a tam on the + moor to drink from. This neeborhood is noted for the dogs that are aye + passing. On Wednesdays the farm dogs come up from the Grassmarket, and + every day there are weel-cared-for dogs from the residence streets, dogs + of all conditions across the bridge from High Street, and meeserable waifs + from the Cowgate. Stray pussies are about, too. I'm a gude-hearted man, + and an unco' observant one, your Leddyship, but I was no' thinking that + these animals must often suffer from thirst.” + </p> + <p> + “Few people do think of it. Most men can love some one dog or cat or horse + and be attentive to its wants, but they take little thought for the world + of dumb animals that are so dependent upon us. It is no special credit to + you, Mr. Traill, that you became fond of an attractive little dog like + Bobby and have cared for him so tenderly.” + </p> + <p> + The landlord gasped. He had taken not a little pride in his stanch + championship and watchful care of Bobby, and his pride had been increased + by the admiration that had been lavished on him for years by the general + public. Now, as he afterward confessed to Mr. Brown: + </p> + <p> + “Her leddyship made me feel I'd done naething by the ordinar', but maistly + to please my ainsel'. Eh, man, she made me sing sma'.” + </p> + <p> + When the collie had finished drinking, he looked up gratefully, rubbed + against the good Samaritans, waved his plumed tail like a banner, and + trotted away. After a thoughtful moment Lady Burdett-Coutts said: + </p> + <p> + “The suitable memorial here, Mr. Traill, is a fountain, with a low basin + level with the curb, and a higher one, and Bobby sitting on an + altar-topped central column above, looking through the kirkyard gate. It + shall be his mission to bring men and small animals together in sympathy + by offering to both the cup of cold water.” + </p> + <p> + She was there once again that year. On her way north she stopped in + Edinburgh over night to see how the work on the fountain had progressed. + It was in Scotland's best season, most of the days dry and bright and + sharp. But on that day it was misting, and yellow leaves were dropping on + the wet tombs and beaded grass, when the Grand Leddy appeared at the + kirkyard late in the afternoon with a wreath of laurel to lay on Auld + Jock's grave. + </p> + <p> + Bobby slipped out, dry as his own delectable bone, from under the tomb of + Mistress Jean Grant, and nearly wagged his tail off with pleasure. + Mistress Jeanie was set in a proud flutter when the Grand Leddy rang at + the lodge kitchen and asked if she and Bobby could have their tea there + with the old couple by the cozy grate fire. + </p> + <p> + They all drank tea from the best blue cups, and ate buttered scones and + strawberry jam on the scoured deal table. Bobby had his porridge and broth + on the hearth. The coals snapped in the grate and the firelight danced + merrily on the skylark's cage and the copper kettle. Mr. Brown got out his + fife and played “Bonnie Dundee.” Wee, silver-white Bobby tried to dance, + but he tumbled over so lamentably once or twice that he hung his head + apologetically, admitting that he ought to have the sense to know that his + dancing days were done. He lay down and lolled and blinked on the hearth + until the Grand Leddy rose to go. + </p> + <p> + “I am on my way to Braemar to visit for a few days at Balmoral Castle. I + wish I could take Bobby with me to show him to the dear Queen.” + </p> + <p> + “Preserve me!” cried Mistress Jeanie, and Mr. Brown's pet pipe was in + fragments on the hearth. + </p> + <p> + Bobby leaped upon her and whimpered, saying “Dinna gang, Leddy!” as + plainly as a little dog could say anything. He showed the pathos at + parting with one he was fond of, now, that an old and affectionate person + shows. He clung to her gown, rubbed his rough head under her hand, and + trotted disconsolately beside her to her waiting carriage. At the very + last she said, sadly: + </p> + <p> + “The Queen will have to come to Edinburgh to see Bobby.” + </p> + <p> + “The bonny wee wad be a prood doggie, yer Leddyship,” Mistress Jeanie + managed to stammer, but Mr. Brown was beyond speech. + </p> + <p> + The Grand Leddy said nothing. She looked at the foundation work of Bobby's + memorial fountain, swathed in canvas against the winter, and waiting—waiting + for the spring, when the waters of the earth should be unsealed again; + waiting until finis could be written to a story on a bronze table-tomb; + waiting for the effigy of a shaggy Skye terrier to be cast and set up; + waiting— + </p> + <p> + When the Queen came to see Bobby it was unlikely that he would know + anything about it. + </p> + <p> + He would know nothing of the crowds to gather there on a public occasion, + massing on the bridge, in Greyfriars Place, in broad Chambers Street, and + down Candlemakers Row—the magistrates and Burgh council, professors + and students from the University, soldiers from the Castle, the + neighboring nobility in carriages, farmers and shepherds from the + Pentlands, the Heriot laddies marching from the school, and the tenement + children in holiday duddies—all to honor the memory of a devoted + little dog. He would know nothing of the military music and flowers, the + prayer of the minister of Greyfriars auld kirk, the speech of the Lord + Provost; nothing of the happy tears of the Grand Leddy when a veil should + fall away from a little bronze dog that gazed wistfully through the + kirkyard gate, and water gush forth for the refreshment of men and + animals. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, good-by, good-by, Bobby; most loving and lovable, darlingest wee + dog in the world!” she cried, and a shower of bright drops and sweet + little sounds fell on Bobby's tousled head. Then the carriage of the Grand + Leddy rolled away in the rainy dusk. + </p> + <p> + The hour-bell of St. Giles was rung, and the sunset bugle blown in the + Castle. It took Mr. Brown a long time to lift the wicket, close the tall + leaves and lock the gate. The wind was rising, and the air hardening. One + after one the gas lamps flared in the gusts that blew on the bridge. The + huge bulk of shadow lay, velvet black, in the drenched quarry pit of the + Grassmarket. The caretaker's voice was husky with a sudden “cauld in 'is + heid.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye're an auld dog, Bobby, an' ye canna deny it. Ye'll juist hae to sleep + i' the hoose the misty nicht.” + </p> + <p> + Loath to part with them, Bobby went up to the lodge with the old couple + and saw them within the cheerful kitchen. But when the door was held open + for him, he wagged his tail in farewell and trotted away around the kirk. + All the concession he was willing to make to old age and bad weather was + to sleep under the fallen table-tomb. + </p> + <p> + Greyfriars on a dripping autumn evening! A pensive hour and season, + everything memorable brooded there. Crouched back in shadowy ranks, the + old tombs were draped in mystery. The mist was swirled by the wind and + smoke smeared out, over their dim shapes. Where families sat close about + scant suppers, the lights of candles and cruisey lamps were blurred. The + faintest halo hung above the Castle head. Infrequent footsteps hurried by + the gate. There was the rattle of a belated cart, the ring of a distant + church bell. But even on such nights the casements were opened and little + faces looked into the melancholy kirkyard. Candles glimmered for a moment + on the murk, and sweetly and clearly the tenement bairns called down: + </p> + <p> + “A gude nicht to ye, Bobby.” + </p> + <p> + They could not see the little dog, but they knew he was there. They knew + now that he would still be there when they could see him no more—his + body a part of the soil, his memory a part of all that was held dear and + imperishable in that old garden of souls. They could go up to the lodge + and look at his famous collar, and they would have his image in bronze on + the fountain. And sometime, when the mysterious door opened for them, they + might see Bobby again, a sonsie doggie running on the green pastures and + beside the still waters, at the heels of his shepherd master, for: + </p> + <p> + If there is not more love in this world than there is room for in God's + heaven, Bobby would just have “gaen awa' hame.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Greyfriars Bobby, by Eleanor Atkinson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GREYFRIARS BOBBY *** + +***** This file should be named 2693-h.htm or 2693-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/9/2693/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteeer, and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Greyfriars Bobby + +Author: Eleanor Atkinson + +Posting Date: December 8, 2008 [EBook #2693] +Release Date: July, 2001 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GREYFRIARS BOBBY *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteeer + + + + + +GREYFRIARS BOBBY + +By Eleanor Atkinson + + + + +I. + +When the time-gun boomed from Edinburgh Castle, Bobby gave a startled +yelp. He was only a little country dog--the very youngest and smallest +and shaggiest of Skye terriers--bred on a heathery slope of the Pentland +hills, where the loudest sound was the bark of a collie or the tinkle +of a sheep-bell. That morning he had come to the weekly market with Auld +Jock, a farm laborer, and the Grassmarket of the Scottish capital lay in +the narrow valley at the southern base of Castle Crag. Two hundred +feet above it the time-gun was mounted in the half-moon battery on an +overhanging, crescent-shaped ledge of rock. In any part of the city +the report of the one-o'clock gun was sufficiently alarming, but in +the Grassmarket it was an earth-rending explosion directly overhead. +It needed to be heard but once there to be registered on even a little +dog's brain. Bobby had heard it many times, and he never failed to yelp +a sharp protest at the outrage to his ears; but, as the gunshot was +always followed by a certain happy event, it started in his active +little mind a train of pleasant associations. + +In Bobby's day of youth, and that was in 1858, when Queen Victoria was a +happy wife and mother, with all her bairns about her knees in Windsor +or Balmoral, the Grassmarket of Edinburgh was still a bit of the Middle +Ages, as picturesquely decaying and Gothic as German Nuremberg. Beside +the classic corn exchange, it had no modern buildings. North and south, +along its greatest length, the sunken quadrangle was faced by tall, old, +timber-fronted houses of stone, plastered like swallows' nests to the +rocky slopes behind them. + +Across the eastern end, where the valley suddenly narrowed to the +ravine-like street of the Cowgate, the market was spanned by the +lofty, crowded arches of George IV Bridge. This high-hung, viaduct +thoroughfare, that carried a double line of buildings within its +parapet, leaped the gorge, from the tall, old, Gothic rookeries on High +Street ridge, just below the Castle esplanade. It cleared the roofs +of the tallest, oldest houses that swarmed up the steep banks from the +Cowgate, and ran on, by easy descent, to the main gateway of Greyfriars +kirkyard at the lower top of the southern rise. + +Greyfriars' two kirks formed together, under one continuous roof, a +long, low, buttressed building without tower or spire. The new kirk was +of Queen Anne's day, but the old kirk was built before ever the Pilgrims +set sail for America. It had been but one of several sacred buildings, +set in a monastery garden that sloped pleasantly to the open valley of +the Grassmarket, and looked up the Castle heights unhindered. In Bobby's +day this garden had shrunk to a long, narrow, high-piled burying-ground, +that extended from the rear of the line of buildings that fronted on the +market, up the slope, across the hilltop, and to where the land began +to fall away again, down the Burghmuir. From the Grassmarket, kirk and +kirkyard lay hidden behind and above the crumbling grandeur of noble +halls and mansions that had fallen to the grimiest tenements of +Edinburgh's slums. From the end of the bridge approach there was a +glimpse of massive walls, of pointed windows, and of monumental tombs +through a double-leafed gate of wrought iron, that was alcoved and +wedged in between the ancient guildhall of the candlemakers and a row of +prosperous little shops in Greyfriars Place. + +A rock-rimmed quarry pit, in the very heart of Old Edinburgh, the +Grassmarket was a place of historic echoes. The yelp of a little dog +there would scarce seem worthy of record. More in harmony with its +stirring history was the report of the time-gun. At one o'clock every +day, there was a puff of smoke high up in the blue or gray or squally +sky, then a deafening crash and a back fire fusillade of echoes. The +oldest frequenter of the market never got used to it. On Wednesday, as +the shot broke across the babel of shrill bargaining, every man in +the place jumped, and not one was quicker of recovery than wee Bobby. +Instantly ashamed, as an intelligent little dog who knew the import +of the gun should be, Bobby denied his alarm in a tiny pink yawn of +boredom. Then he went briskly about his urgent business of finding Auld +Jock. + +The market was closed. In five minutes the great open space was as empty +of living men as Greyfriars kirkyard on a week-day. Drovers and hostlers +disappeared at once into the cheap and noisy entertainment of the White +Hart Inn that fronted the market and set its squalid back against Castle +Rock. Farmers rapidly deserted it for the clean country. Dwellers in the +tenements darted up wynds and blind closes, climbed twisting turnpike +stairs to windy roosts under the gables, or they scuttled through noble +doors into foul courts and hallways. Beggars and pickpockets swarmed +under the arches of the bridge, to swell the evil smelling human river +that flowed at the dark and slimy bottom of the Cowgate. + +A chill November wind tore at the creaking iron cross of the Knights of +St. John, on the highest gable of the Temple tenements, that turned its +decaying back on the kirkyard of the Greyfriars. Low clouds were tangled +and torn on the Castle battlements. A few horses stood about, munching +oats from feed-boxes. Flocks of sparrows fluttered down from timbered +galleries and rocky ledges to feast on scattered grain. Swallows wheeled +in wide, descending spirals from mud villages under the cornices to +catch flies. Rats scurried out of holes and gleaned in the deserted corn +exchange. And 'round and 'round the empty market-place raced the frantic +little terrier in search of Auld Jock. + +Bobby knew, as well as any man, that it was the dinner hour. With the +time-gun it was Auld Jock's custom to go up to a snug little restaurant; +that was patronized chiefly by the decent poor small shopkeepers, +clerks, tenant farmers, and medical students living in cheap +lodgings--in Greyfriars Place. There, in Ye Olde Greyfriars +Dining-Rooms, owned by Mr. John Traill, and four doors beyond the +kirkyard gate, was a cozy little inglenook that Auld Jock and Bobby +had come to look upon as their own. At its back, above a recessed oaken +settle and a table, a tiny paned window looked up and over a retaining +wall into the ancient place of the dead. + +The view of the heaped-up and crowded mounds and thickets of old slabs +and throughstones, girt all about by time-stained monuments and vaults, +and shut in on the north and east by the backs of shops and lofty +slum tenements, could not be said to be cheerful. It suited Auld Jock, +however, for what mind he had was of a melancholy turn. From his place +on the floor, between his master's hob-nailed boots, Bobby could not see +the kirkyard, but it would not, in any case, have depressed his spirits. +He did not know the face of death and, a merry little ruffian of a +terrier, he was ready for any adventure. + +On the stone gate pillar was a notice in plain English that no dogs were +permitted in Greyfriars. As well as if he could read, Bobby knew +that the kirkyard was forbidden ground. He had learned that by bitter +experience. Once, when the little wicket gate that held the two tall +leaves ajar by day, chanced to be open, he had joyously chased a cat +across the graves and over the western wall onto the broad green lawn of +Heriot's Hospital. + +There the little dog's escapade bred other mischief, for Heriot's +Hospital was not a hospital at all, in the modern English sense of being +a refuge for the sick. Built and christened in a day when a Stuart king +reigned in Holyrood Palace, and French was spoken in the Scottish +court, Heriot's was a splendid pile of a charity school, all towers +and battlements, and cheerful color, and countless beautiful windows. +Endowed by a beruffed and doubleted goldsmith, "Jinglin' Geordie" +Heriot, who had "nae brave laddie o' his ain," it was devoted to the +care and education of "puir orphan an' faderless boys." There it +had stood for more than two centuries, in a spacious park, like the +country-seat of a Lowland laird, but hemmed in by sordid markets and +swarming slums. The region round about furnished an unfailing supply +of "puir orphan an' faderless boys" who were as light-hearted and +irresponsible as Bobby. + +Hundreds of the Heriot laddies were out in the noon recess, playing +cricket and leap-frog, when Bobby chased that unlucky cat over the +kirkyard wall. He could go no farther himself, but the laddies took up +the pursuit, yelling like Highland clans of old in a foray across the +border. The unholy din disturbed the sacred peace of the kirkyard. +Bobby dashed back, barking furiously, in pure exuberance of spirits. He +tumbled gaily over grassy hummocks, frisked saucily around terrifying +old mausoleums, wriggled under the most enticing of low-set table tombs +and sprawled, exhausted, but still happy and noisy, at Auld Jock's feet. + +It was a scandalous thing to happen in any kirkyard! The angry caretaker +was instantly out of his little stone lodge by the gate and taking Auld +Jock sharply to task for Bobby's misbehavior. The pious old shepherd, +shocked himself and publicly disgraced, stood, bonnet in hand, humbly +apologetic. Seeing that his master was getting the worst of it, Bobby +rushed into the fray, an animated little muff of pluck and fury, and +nipped the caretaker's shins. There was a howl of pain, and a "maist +michty" word that made the ancient tombs stand aghast. Master and dog +were hustled outside the gate and into a rabble of jeering slum gamin. + +What a to-do about a miserable cat! To Bobby there was no logic at all +in the denouement to this swift, exciting drama. But he understood Auld +Jock's shame and displeasure perfectly. Good-tempered as he was gay and +clever, the little dog took his punishment meekly, and he remembered +it. Thereafter, he passed the kirk yard gate decorously. If he saw a cat +that needed harrying he merely licked his little red chops--the outward +sign of a desperate self-control. And, a true sport, he bore no malice +toward the caretaker. + +During that first summer of his life Bobby learned many things. He +learned that he might chase rabbits, squirrels and moor-fowl, and +sea-gulls and whaups that came up to feed in plowed fields. Rats and +mice around byre and dairy were legitimate prey; but he learned that he +must not annoy sheep and sheep-dogs, nor cattle, horses and chickens. +And he discovered that, unless he hung close to Auld Jock's heels, his +freedom was in danger from a wee lassie who adored him. He was no lady's +lap-dog. From the bairnie's soft cosseting he aye fled to Auld Jock +and the rough hospitality of the sheep fold. Being exact opposites in +temperaments, but alike in tastes, Bobby and Auld Jock were inseparable. +In the quiet corner of Mr. Traill's crowded dining-room they spent the +one idle hour of the week together, happily. Bobby had the leavings of a +herring or haddie, for a rough little Skye will eat anything from smoked +fish to moor-fowl eggs, and he had the tidbit of a farthing bone to +worry at his leisure. Auld Jock smoked his cutty pipe, gazed at the fire +or into the kirk-yard, and meditated on nothing in particular. + +In some strange way that no dog could understand, Bobby had been +separated from Auld Jock that November morning. The tenant of Cauldbrae +farm had driven the cart in, himself, and that was unusual. Immediately +he had driven out again, leaving Auld Jock behind, and that was quite +outside Bobby's brief experience of life. Beguiled to the lofty and +coveted driver's seat where, with lolling tongue, he could view this +interesting world between the horse's ears, Bobby had been spirited out +of the city and carried all the way down and up to the hilltop toll-bar +of Fairmilehead. It could not occur to his loyal little heart that this +treachery was planned nor, stanch little democrat that he was, that +the farmer was really his owner, and that he could not follow a humbler +master of his own choosing. He might have been carried to the distant +farm, and shut safely in the byre with the cows for the night, but for +an incautious remark of the farmer. With the first scent of the native +heather the horse quickened his pace, and, at sight of the purple slopes +of the Pentlands looming homeward, a fond thought at the back of the +man's mind very naturally took shape in speech. + +"Eh, Bobby; the wee lassie wull be at the tap o' the brae to race ye +hame." + +Bobby pricked his drop ears. Within a narrow limit, and concerning +familiar things, the understanding of human speech by these intelligent +little terriers is very truly remarkable. At mention of the wee lassie +he looked behind for his rough old friend and unfailing refuge. Auld +Jock's absence discovered, Bobby promptly dropped from the seat of honor +and from the cart tail, sniffed the smoke of Edinboro' town and faced +right about. To the farmer's peremptory call he returned the spicy +repartee of a cheerful bark. It was as much as to say: + +"Dinna fash yersel'! I ken what I'm aboot." + +After an hour's hard run back over the dipping and rising country road +and a long quarter circuit of the city, Bobby found the high-walled, +winding way into the west end of the Grassmarket. To a human being +afoot there was a shorter cut, but the little dog could only retrace +the familiar route of the farm carts. It was a notable feat for a small +creature whose tufted legs were not more than six inches in length, +whose thatch of long hair almost swept the roadway and caught at every +burr and bramble, and who was still so young that his nose could not be +said to be educated. + +In the market-place he ran here and there through the crowd, hopefully +investigating narrow closes that were mere rifts in precipices of +buildings; nosing outside stairs, doorways, stables, bridge arches, +standing carts, and even hob-nailed boots. He yelped at the crash of the +gun, but it was another matter altogether that set his little heart to +palpitating with alarm. It was the dinner-hour, and where was Auld Jock? + +Ah! A happy thought: his master had gone to dinner! + +A human friend would have resented the idea of such base desertion +and sulked. But in a little dog's heart of trust there is no room for +suspicion. The thought simply lent wings to Bobby's tired feet. As +the market-place emptied he chased at the heels of laggards, up the +crescent-shaped rise of Candlemakers Row, and straight on to the +familiar dining-rooms. Through the forest of table and chair and human +legs he made his way to the back, to find a soldier from the Castle, in +smart red coat and polished boots, lounging in Auld Jock's inglenook. + +Bobby stood stock still for a shocked instant. Then he howled +dismally and bolted for the door. Mr. John Traill, the smooth-shaven, +hatchet-faced proprietor, standing midway in shirtsleeves and white +apron, caught the flying terrier between his legs and gave him a +friendly clap on the side. + +"Did you come by your ainsel' with a farthing in your silky-purse ear to +buy a bone, Bobby? Whaur's Auld Jock?" + +A fear may be crowded back into the mind and stoutly denied so long as +it is not named. At the good landlord's very natural question "Whaur's +Auld Jock?" there was the shape of the little dog's fear that he had +lost his master. With a whimpering cry he struggled free. Out of the +door he went, like a shot. He tumbled down the steep curve and doubled +on his tracks around the market-place. + +At his onslaught, the sparrows rose like brown leaves on a gust of wind, +and drifted down again. A cold mist veiled the Castle heights. From +the stone crown of the ancient Cathedral of St. Giles, on High Street, +floated the melody of "The Bluebells of Scotland." No day was too bleak +for bell-ringer McLeod to climb the shaking ladder in the windy tower +and play the music bells during the hour that Edinburgh dined. Bobby +forgot to dine that day, first in his distracted search, and then in his +joy of finding his master. + +For, all at once, in the very strangest place, in the very strangest +way, Bobby came upon Auld Jock. A rat scurrying out from a foul and +narrow passage that gave to the rear of the White Hart Inn, pointed the +little dog to a nook hitherto undiscovered by his curious nose. Hidden +away between the noisy tavern and the grim, island crag was the old +cock-fighting pit of a ruder day. There, in a broken-down carrier's +cart, abandoned among the nameless abominations of publichouse refuse, +Auld Jock lay huddled in his greatcoat of hodden gray and his shepherd's +plaid. On a bundle of clothing tied in a tartan kerchief for a pillow, +he lay very still and breathing heavily. + +Bobby barked as if he would burst his lungs. He barked so long, so loud, +and so furiously, running 'round and 'round the cart and under it and +yelping at every turn, that a slatternly scullery maid opened a door and +angrily bade him "no' to deave folk wi' 'is blatterin'." Auld Jock she +did not see at all in the murky pit or, if she saw him, thought him some +drunken foreign sailor from Leith harbor. When she went in, she slammed +the door and lighted the gas. + +Whether from some instinct of protection of his helpless master in that +foul and hostile place, or because barking had proved to be of no use +Bobby sat back on his haunches and considered this strange, disquieting +thing. It was not like Auld Jock to sleep in the daytime, or so soundly, +at any time, that barking would not awaken him. A clever and resourceful +dog, Bobby crouched back against the farthest wall, took a running leap +to the top of the low boots, dug his claws into the stout, home knitted +stockings, and scrambled up over Auld Jock's legs into the cart. In an +instant he poked his little black mop of a wet muzzle into his master's +face and barked once, sharply, in his ear. + +To Bobby's delight Auld Jock sat up and blinked his eyes. The old eyes +were brighter, the grizzled face redder than was natural, but such +matters were quite outside of the little dog's ken. It was a dazed +moment before the man remembered that Bobby should not be there. +He frowned down at the excited little creature, who was wagging +satisfaction from his nose-tip to the end of his crested tail, in a +puzzled effort to remember why. + +"Eh, Bobby!" His tone was one of vague reproof. "Nae doot ye're fair +satisfied wi' yer ainsel'." + +Bobby's feathered tail drooped, but it still quivered, all ready to wag +again at the slightest encouragement. Auld Jock stared at him stupidly, +his dizzy head in his hands. A very tired, very draggled little dog, +Bobby dropped beside his master, panting, subdued by the reproach, but +happy. His soft eyes, veiled by the silvery fringe that fell from his +high forehead, were deep brown pools of affection. Auld Jock forgot, by +and by, that Bobby should not be there, and felt only the comfort of his +companionship. + +"Weel, Bobby," he began again, uncertainly. And then, because his +Scotch peasant reticence had been quite broken down by Bobby's shameless +devotion, so that he told the little dog many things that he cannily +concealed from human kind, he confided the strange weakness and +dizziness in the head that had overtaken him: "Auld Jock is juist fair +silly the day, bonny wee laddie." + +Down came a shaking, hot old hand in a rough caress, and up a gallant +young tail to wave like a banner. All was right with the little dog's +world again. But it was plain, even to Bobby, that something had gone +wrong with Auld Jock. It was the man who wore the air of a culprit. A +Scotch laborer does not lightly confess to feeling "fair silly," nor +sleep away the busy hours of daylight. The old man was puzzled and +humiliated by this discreditable thing. A human friend would have +understood his plight, led the fevered man out of that bleak and fetid +cul-de-sac, tucked him into a warm bed, comforted him with a hot drink, +and then gone swiftly for skilled help. Bobby knew only that his master +had unusual need of love. + +Very, very early a dog learns that life is not as simple a matter to his +master as it is to himself. There are times when he reads trouble, that +he cannot help or understand, in the man's eye and voice. Then he +can only look his love and loyalty, wistfully, as if he felt his own +shortcoming in the matter of speech. And if the trouble is so great that +the master forgets to eat his dinner; forgets, also, the needs of his +faithful little friend, it is the dog's dear privilege to bear neglect +and hunger without complaint. Therefore, when Auld Jock lay down again +and sank, almost at once, into sodden sleep, Bobby snuggled in the +hollow of his master's arm and nuzzled his nose in his master's neck. + + + + +II. + +While the bells played "There Grows a Bonny Briarbush in Our Kale Yard," +Auld Jock and Bobby slept. They slept while the tavern emptied itself +of noisy guests and clattering crockery was washed at the dingy, +gas-lighted windows that overlooked the cockpit. They slept while the +cold fell with the falling day and the mist was whipped into driving +rain. Almost a cave, between shelving rock and house wall, a gust of +wind still found its way in now and then. At a splash of rain Auld Jock +stirred uneasily in his sleep. Bobby merely sniffed the freshened air +with pleasure and curled himself up for another nap. + +No rain could wet Bobby. Under his rough outer coat, that was parted +along the back as neatly as the thatch along a cottage ridge-pole, was +a dense, woolly fleece that defied wind and rain, snow and sleet to +penetrate. He could not know that nature had not been as generous in +protecting his master against the weather. Although of a subarctic +breed, fitted to live shelterless if need be, and to earn his living by +native wit, Bobby had the beauty, the grace, and the charming manners of +a lady's pet. In a litter of prick-eared, wire-haired puppies Bobby was +a "sport." + +It is said that some of the ships of the Spanish Armada, with French +poodles in the officers' cabins, were blown far north and west, and +broken up on the icy coasts of The Hebrides and Skye. Some such crossing +of his far-away ancestry, it would seem, had given a greater length +and a crisp wave to Bobby's outer coat, dropped and silkily fringed his +ears, and powdered his useful, slate-gray color with silver frost. But +he had the hardiness and intelligence of the sturdier breed, and the +instinct of devotion to the working master. So he had turned from a +soft-hearted bit lassie of a mistress, and the cozy chimney corner of +the farm-house kitchen, and linked his fortunes with this forlorn old +laborer. + +A grizzled, gnarled little man was Auld Jock, of tough fiber, but +worn out at last by fifty winters as a shepherd on the bleak hills +of Midlothian and Fife, and a dozen more in the low stables and +storm-buffeted garrets of Edinburgh. He had come into the world unnoted +in a shepherd's lonely cot. With little wit of mind or skill of hand he +had been a common tool, used by this master and that for the roughest +tasks, when needed, put aside, passed on, and dropped out of mind. +Nothing ever belonged to the man but his scant earnings. Wifeless, +cotless, bairnless, he had slept, since early boyhood, under strange +roofs, eaten the bread of the hireling, and sat dumb at other men's +firesides. If he had another name it had been forgotten. In youth he was +Jock; in age, Auld Jock. + +In his sixty-third summer there was a belated blooming in Auld Jock's +soul. Out of some miraculous caprice Bobby lavished on him a riotous +affection. Then up out of the man's subconscious memory came words +learned from the lips of a long-forgotten mother. They were words not +meant for little dogs at all, but for sweetheart, wife and bairn. Auld +Jock used them cautiously, fearing to be overheard, for the matter was +a subject of wonder and rough jest at the farm. He used them when Bobby +followed him at the plow-tail or scampered over the heather with him +behind the flocks. He used them on the market-day journeyings, and on +summer nights, when the sea wind came sweetly from the broad Firth and +the two slept, like vagabonds, on a haycock under the stars. The purest +pleasure Auld Jock ever knew was the taking of a bright farthing from +his pocket to pay for Bobby's delectable bone in Mr. Traill's place. + +Given what was due him that morning and dismissed for the season to +find such work as he could in the city, Auld Jock did not question the +farmer's right to take Bobby "back hame." Besides, what could he do with +the noisy little rascal in an Edinburgh lodging? But, duller of wit than +usual, feeling very old and lonely, and shaky on his legs, and dizzy in +his head, Auld Jock parted with Bobby and with his courage, together. +With the instinct of the dumb animal that suffers, he stumbled into +the foul nook and fell, almost at once, into a heavy sleep. Out of that +Bobby roused him but briefly. + +Long before his master awoke, Bobby finished his series of refreshing +little naps, sat up, yawned, stretched his short, shaggy legs, sniffed +at Auld Jock experimentally, and trotted around the bed of the cart on +a tour of investigation. This proving to be of small interest and no +profit, he lay down again beside his master, nose on paws, and waited +Auld Jock's pleasure patiently. A sweep of drenching rain brought the +old man suddenly to his feet and stumbling into the market place. The +alert little dog tumbled about him, barking ecstatically. The fever was +gone and Auld Jock's head quite clear; but in its place was a weakness, +an aching of the limbs, a weight on the chest, and a great shivering. + +Although the bell of St. Giles was just striking the hour of five, it +was already entirely dark. A lamp-lighter, with ladder and torch, was +setting a double line of gas jets to flaring along the lofty parapets +of the bridge. If the Grassmarket was a quarry pit by day, on a night +of storm it was the bottom of a reservoir. The height of the walls was +marked by a luminous crown from many lights above the Castle head, and +by a student's dim candle, here and there, at a garret window. The huge +bulk of the bridge cast a shadow, velvet black, across the eastern half +of the market. + +Had not Bobby gone before and barked, and run back, again and again, +and jumped up on Auld Jock's legs, the man might never have won his way +across the drowned place, in the inky blackness and against the slanted +blast of icy rain. When he gained the foot of Candlemakers Row, a +crescent of tall, old houses that curved upward around the lower end +of Greyfriars kirkyard, water poured upon him from the heavy timbered +gallery of the Cunzie Neuk, once the royal mint. The carting office that +occupied the street floor was closed, or Auld Jock would have sought +shelter there. He struggled up the rise, made slippery by rain and +grime. Then, as the street turned southward in its easy curve, there was +some shelter from the house walls. But Auld Jock was quite exhausted +and incapable of caring for himself. In the ancient guildhall of the +candlemakers, at the top of the Row, was another carting office and +Harrow Inn, a resort of country carriers. The man would have gone in +there where he was quite unknown or, indeed, he might even have lain +down in the bleak court that gave access to the tenements above, but for +Bobby's persistent and cheerful barking, begging and nipping. + +"Maister, maister!" he said, as plainly as a little dog could speak, +"dinna bide here. It's juist a stap or two to food an' fire in' the cozy +auld ingleneuk." + +And then, the level roadway won at last, there was the railing of the +bridge-approach to cling to, on the one hand, and the upright bars of +the kirkyard gate on the other. By the help of these and the urging of +wee Bobby, Auld Jock came the short, steep way up out of the market, to +the row of lighted shops in Greyfriars Place. + +With the wind at the back and above the housetops, Mr. Traill stood +bare-headed in a dry haven of peace in his doorway, firelight behind +him, and welcome in his shrewd gray eyes. If Auld Jock had shown any +intention of going by, it is not impossible that the landlord of Ye Olde +Greyfriars Dining-Rooms might have dragged him in bodily. The storm had +driven all his customers home. For an hour there had not been a soul in +the place to speak to, and it was so entirely necessary for John Traill +to hear his own voice that he had been known, in such straits, to talk +to himself. Auld Jock was not an inspiring auditor, but a deal better +than naething; and, if he proved hopeless, entertainment was to be found +in Bobby. So Mr. Traill bustled in before his guests, poked the open +fire into leaping flames, and heaped it up skillfully at the back with +fresh coals. The good landlord turned from his hospitable task to find +Auld Jock streaming and shaking on the hearth. + +"Man, but you're wet!" he exclaimed. He hustled the old shepherd out of +his dripping plaid and greatcoat and spread them to the blaze. Auld Jock +found a dry, knitted Tam-o'-Shanter bonnet in his little bundle and set +it on his head. It was a moment or two before he could speak without the +humiliating betrayal of chattering teeth. + +"Ay, it's a misty nicht," he admitted, with caution. + +"Misty! Man, it's raining like all the seven deils were abroad." Having +delivered himself of this violent opinion, Mr. Traill fell into his +usual philosophic vein. "I have sma' patience with the Scotch way of +making little of everything. If Noah had been a Lowland Scot he'd 'a' +said the deluge was juist fair wet."' + +He laughed at his own wit, his thin-featured face and keen gray eyes +lighting up to a kindliness that his brusque speech denied in vain. +He had a fluency of good English at command that he would have thought +ostentatious to use in speaking with a simple country body. + +Auld Jock stared at Mr. Traill and pondered the matter. By and by he +asked: "Wasna the deluge fair wet?" + +The landlord sighed but, brought to book like that, admitted that +it was. Conversation flagged, however, while he busied himself with +toasting a smoked herring, and dragging roasted potatoes from the little +iron oven that was fitted into the brickwork of the fireplace beside the +grate. + +Bobby was attending to his own entertainment. The familiar place wore a +new and enchanting aspect, and needed instant exploration. By day it was +fitted with tables, picketed by chairs and all manner of boots. Noisy +and crowded, a little dog that wandered about there was liable to be +trodden upon. On that night of storm it was a vast, bright place, so +silent one could hear the ticking of the wag-at-the-wa' clock, the crisp +crackling of the flames, and the snapping of the coals. The uncovered +deal tables were set back in a double line along one wall, with the +chairs piled on top, leaving a wide passage of freshly scrubbed and +sanded oaken floor from the door to the fireplace. Firelight danced on +the dark old wainscoting and high, carved overmantel, winked on rows of +drinking mugs and metal covers over cold meats on the buffet, and even +picked out the gilt titles on the backs of a shelf of books in Mr. +Traill's private corner behind the bar. + +Bobby shook himself on the hearth to free his rain-coat of surplus +water. To the landlord's dry "We're no' needing a shower in the house. +Lie down, Bobby," he wagged his tail politely, as a sign that he heard. +But, as Auld Jock did not repeat the order, he ignored it and scampered +busily about the room, leaving little trails of wet behind him. + +This grill-room of Traill's place was more like the parlor of a country +inn, or a farm-house kitchen if there had been a built-in bed or two, +than a restaurant in the city. There, a humble man might see his herring +toasted, his bannocks baked on the oven-top, or his tea brewed to his +liking. On such a night as this the landlord would pull the settle out +of the inglenook to the hearth, set before the solitary guest a small table, +and keep the kettle on the hob. + +"Spread yoursel' on both sides o' the fire, man. There'll be nane to +keep us company, I'm thinking. Ilka man that has a roof o' his ain will +be wearing it for a bonnet the nicht." + +As there was no answer to this, the skilled conversational angler +dropped a bit of bait that the wariest man must rise to. + +"That's a vera intelligent bit dog, Auld Jock. He was here with the +time-gun spiering for you. When he didna find you he greeted like a +bairn." + +Auld Jock, huddled in the corner of the settle, so near the fire that +his jacket smoked, took so long a time to find an answer that Mr. Traill +looked at him keenly as he set the wooden plate and pewter mug on the +table. + +"Man, you're vera ill," he cried, sharply. In truth he was shocked and +self-accusing because he had not observed Auld Jock's condition before. + +"I'm no' so awfu' ill," came back in irritated denial, as if he had been +accused of some misbehavior. + +"Weel, it's no' a dry herrin' ye'll hae in my shop the nicht. It's a hot +mutton broo wi' porridge in it, an' bits o' meat to tak' the cauld oot +o' yer auld banes." + +And there, the plate was whisked away, and the cover lifted from a +bubbling pot, and the kettle was over the fire for the brewing of tea. +At a peremptory order the soaked boots and stockings were off, and dry +socks found in the kerchief bundle. Auld Jock was used to taking orders +from his superiors, and offered no resistance to being hustled after +this manner into warmth and good cheer. Besides, who could have +withstood that flood of homely speech on which the good landlord came +right down to the old shepherd's humble level? Such warm feeling was +established that Mr. Traill quite forgot his usual caution and certain +well-known prejudices of old country bodies. + +"Noo," he said cheerfully, as he set the hot broth on the table, "ye +maun juist hae a doctor." + +A doctor is the last resort of the unlettered poor. The very threat of +one to the Scotch peasant of a half-century ago was a sentence of death. +Auld Jock blanched, and he shook so that he dropped his spoon. Mr. +Traill hastened to undo the mischief. + +"It's no' a doctor ye'll be needing, ava, but a bit dose o' physic an' a +bed in the infirmary a day or twa." + +"I wullna gang to the infairmary. It's juist for puir toon bodies that +are aye ailin' an' deein'." Fright and resentment lent the silent old +man an astonishing eloquence for the moment. "Ye wadna gang to the +infairmary yer ainsel', an' tak' charity." + +"Would I no'? I would go if I so much as cut my sma' finger; and I would +let a student laddie bind it up for me." + +"Weel, ye're a saft ane," said Auld Jock. + +It was a terrible word--"saft!" John Traill flushed darkly, and relapsed +into discouraged silence. Deep down in his heart he knew that a regiment +of soldiers from the Castle could not take him alive, a free patient, +into the infirmary. + +But what was one to do but "lee," right heartily, for the good of this +very sick, very poor, homeless old man on a night of pitiless storm? +That he had "lee'd" to no purpose and got a "saft" name for it was a +blow to his pride. + +Hearing the clatter of fork and spoon, Bobby trotted from behind the bar +and saved the day of discomfiture. Time for dinner, indeed! Up he came +on his hind legs and politely begged his master for food. It was the +prettiest thing he could do, and the landlord delighted in him. + +"Gie 'im a penny plate o' the gude broo," said Auld Jock, and he took +the copper coin from his pocket to pay for it. He forgot his own meal +in watching the hungry little creature eat. Warmed and softened by Mr. +Traill's kindness, and by the heartening food, Auld Jock betrayed a +thought that had rankled in the depths of his mind all day. + +"Bobby isna ma ain dog." His voice was dull and unhappy. + +Ah, here was misery deeper than any physical ill! The penny was his, a +senseless thing; but, poor, old, sick, hameless and kinless, the little +dog that loved and followed him "wasna his ain." To hide the huskiness +in his own voice Mr. Traill relapsed into broad, burry Scotch. + +"Dinna fash yersel', man. The wee beastie is maist michty fond o' ye, +an' ilka dog aye chooses 'is ain maister." + +Auld Jock shook his head and gave a brief account of Bobby's perversity. +On the very next market-day the little dog must be restored to the +tenant of Cauldbrae farm and, if necessary, tied in the cart. It was +unlikely, young as he was, that he would try to find his way back, all +the way from near the top of the Pentlands. In a day or two he would +forget Auld Jock. + +"I canna say it wullna be sair partin'--" And then, seeing the sympathy +in the landlord's eye and fearing a disgraceful breakdown, Auld Jock +checked his self betrayal. During the talk Bobby stood listening. At the +abrupt ending, he put his shagged paws up on Auld Jock's knee, wistfully +inquiring about this emotional matter. Then he dropped soberly, and +slunk away under his master's chair. + +"Ay, he kens we're talkin' aboot 'im." + +"He's a knowing bit dog. Have you attended to his sairous education, +man?" + +"Nae, he's ower young." + +"Young is aye the time to teach a dog or a bairn that life is no' all +play. Man, you should put a sma' terrier at the vermin an' mak' him +usefu'." + +"It's eneugh, gin he's gude company for the wee lassie wha's fair fond +o' 'im," Auld Jock answered, briefly. This was a strange sentiment from +the work-broken old man who, for himself, would have held ornamental +idleness sinful. He finished his supper in brooding silence. At last he +broke out in a peevish irritation that only made his grief at parting +with Bobby more apparent to an understanding man like Mr. Traill. + +"I dinna ken what to do wi' 'im i' an Edinburgh lodgin' the nicht. +The auld wifie I lodge wi' is dour by the ordinar', an' wadna bide 'is +blatterin'. I couldna get 'im past 'er auld een, an' thae terriers are +aye barkin' aboot naethin' ava." + +Mr. Traill's eyes sparkled at recollection of an apt literary story +to which Dr. John Brown had given currency. Like many Edinburgh +shopkeepers, Mr. Traill was a man of superior education and an +omnivorous reader. And he had many customers from the near-by University +to give him a fund of stories of Scotch writers and other worthies. + +"You have a double plaid, man?" + +"Ay. Ilka shepherd's got a twa-fold plaidie." It seemed a foolish +question to Auld Jock, but Mr. Traill went on blithely. + +"There's a pocket in the plaid--ane end left open at the side to mak' a +pouch? Nae doubt you've carried mony a thing in that pouch?" + +"Nae, no' so mony. Juist the new-born lambs." + +"Weel, Sir Walter had a shepherd's plaid, and there was a bit lassie he +was vera fond of Syne, when he had been at the writing a' the day, and +was aff his heid like, with too mony thoughts, he'd go across the town +and fetch the bairnie to keep him company. She was a weel-born lassie, +sax or seven years auld, and sma' of her age, but no' half as sma' as +Bobby, I'm thinking." He stopped to let this significant comparison sink +into Auld Jock's mind. "The lassie had nae liking for the unmannerly +wind and snaw of Edinburgh. So Sir Walter just happed her in the pouch +of his plaid, and tumbled her out, snug as a lamb and nane the wiser, in +the big room wha's walls were lined with books." + +Auld Jock betrayed not a glimmer of intelligence as to the personal +bearing of the story, but he showed polite interest. "I ken naethin' +aboot Sir Walter or ony o' the grand folk." Mr. Traill sighed, cleared +the table in silence, and mended the fire. It was ill having no one to +talk to but a simple old body who couldn't put two and two together and +make four. + +The landlord lighted his pipe meditatively, and he lighted his cruisey +lamp for reading. Auld Jock was dry and warm again; oh, very, very warm, +so that he presently fell into a doze. The dining-room was so compassed +on all sides but the front by neighboring house and kirkyard wall and by +the floors above, that only a murmur of the storm penetrated it. It was +so quiet, indeed, that a tiny, scratching sound in a distant corner was +heard distinctly. A streak of dark silver, as of animated mercury, Bobby +flashed past. A scuffle, a squeak, and he was back again, dropping a big +rat at the landlord's feet and, wagging his tail with pride. + +"Weel done, Bobby! There's a bite and a bone for you here ony time +o' day you call for it. Ay, a sensible bit dog will attend to his ain +education and mak' himsel' usefu'." + +Mr. Traill felt a sudden access of warm liking for the attractive little +scrap of knowingness and pluck. He patted the tousled head, but Bobby +backed away. He had no mind to be caressed by any man beside his +master. After a moment the landlord took "Guy Mannering" down from the +book-shelf. Knowing his "Waverley" by heart, he turned at once to the +passages about Dandie Dinmont and his terriers--Mustard and Pepper and +other spicy wee rascals. + +"Ay, terriers are sonsie, leal dogs. Auld Jock will have ane true +mourner at his funeral. I would no' mind if--" + +On impulse he got up and dropped a couple of hard Scotch buns, very good +dog-biscuit, indeed, into the pocket of Auld Jock's greatcoat for Bobby. +The old man might not be able to be out the morn. With the thought in +his mind that some one should keep a friendly eye on the man, he mended +the fire with such an unnecessary clattering of the tongs that Auld Jock +started from his sleep with a cry. + +"Whaur is it you have your lodging, Jock?" the landlord asked, sharply, +for the man looked so dazed that his understanding was not to be reached +easily. He got the indefinite information that it was at the top of one +of the tall, old tenements "juist aff the Coogate." + +"A lang climb for an auld man," John Traill said, compassionately; then, +optimistic as usual, "but it's a lang climb or a foul smell, in the poor +quarters of Edinburgh." + +"Ay. It's weel aboon the fou' smell." With some comforting thought that +he did not confide to Mr. Traill but that ironed lines out of his old +face, Auld Jock went to sleep again. Well, the landlord reflected, he +could remain there by the fire until the closing hour or later, if need +be, and by that time the storm might ease a bit, so that he could get to +his lodging without another wetting. + +For an hour the place was silent, except for the falling clinkers from +the grate, the rustling of book-leaves, and the plumping of rain on the +windows, when the wind shifted a point. Lost in the romance, Mr. Traill +took no note of the passing time or of his quiet guests until he felt a +little tug at his trouser-leg. + +"Eh, laddie?" he questioned. Up the little dog rose in the begging +attitude. Then, with a sharp bark, he dashed back to his master. + +Something was very wrong, indeed. Auld Jock had sunk down in his seat. +His arms hung helplessly over the end and back of the settle, and his +legs were sprawled limply before him. The bonnet that he always wore, +outdoors and in, had fallen from his scant, gray locks, and his head had +dropped forward on his chest. His breathing was labored, and he muttered +in his sleep. + +In a moment Mr. Traill was inside his own greatcoat, storm boots and +bonnet. At the door he turned back. The shop was unguarded. Although +Greyfriars Place lay on the hilltop, with the sanctuary of the kirkyard +behind it, and the University at no great distance in front, it was but +a step up from the thief-infested gorge of the Cowgate. The landlord +locked his moneydrawer, pushed his easy-chair against it, and roused +Auld Jock so far as to move him over from the settle. The chief +responsibility he laid on the anxious little dog, that watched his every +movement. + +"Lie down, Bobby, and mind Auld Jock. And you're no' a gude dog if you +canna bark to waken the dead in the kirkyard, if ony strange body comes +about." + +"Whaur are ye gangin'?" cried Auld Jock. He was wide awake, with +burning, suspicious eyes fixed on his host. + +"Sit you down, man, with your back to my siller. I'm going for a +doctor." The noise of the storm, as he opened the door, prevented his +hearing the frightened protest: + +"Dinna ging!" + +The rain had turned to sleet, and Mr. Traill had trouble in keeping his +feet. He looked first into the famous Book Hunter's Stall next door, on +the chance of finding a medical student. The place was open, but it had +no customers. He went on to the bridge, but there the sheriff's court, +the Martyr's church, the society halls and all the smart shops were +closed, their dark fronts lighted fitfully by flaring gas-lamps. The +bitter night had driven all Edinburgh to private cover. + +From the rear came a clear whistle. Some Heriot laddie who, being not +entirely a "puir orphan," but only "faderless" and, therefore, living +outside the school with his mother, had been kept after nightfall +because of ill-prepared lessons or misbehavior. Mr. Traill turned, +passed his own door, and went on southward into Forest Road, that +skirted the long arm of the kirkyard. + +From the Burghmuir, all the way to the Grassmarket and the Cowgate, was +downhill. So, with arms winged, and stout legs spread wide and braced, +Geordie Ross was sliding gaily homeward, his knitted tippet a gallant +pennant behind. Here was a Mercury for an urgent errand. + +"Laddie, do you know whaur's a doctor who can be had for a shulling or +two for a poor auld country body in my shop?" + +"Is he so awfu' ill?" Geordie asked with the morbid curiosity of lusty +boyhood. + +"He's a' that. He's aff his heid. Run, laddie, and dinna be standing +there wagging your fule tongue for naething." + +Geordie was off with speed across the bridge to High Street. Mr. Traill +struggled back to his shop, against wind and treacherous ice, thinking +what kind of a bed might be contrived for the sick man for the night. In +the morning the daft auld body could be hurried, willy-nilly, to a bed +in the infirmary. As for wee Bobby he wouldn't mind if-- + +And there he ran into his own wide-flung door. A gale blew through the +hastily deserted place. Ashes were scattered about the hearth, and the +cruisey lamp flared in the gusts. Auld Jock and Bobby were gone. + + + + +III. + +Although dismayed and self-accusing for having frightened Auld Jock into +taking flight by his incautious talk of a doctor, not for an instant did +the landlord of Greyfriars Dining-Rooms entertain the idea of following +him. The old man had only to cross the street and drop down the incline +between the bridge approach and the ancient Chapel of St. Magdalen to +be lost in the deepest, most densely peopled, and blackest gorge in +Christendom. + +Well knowing that he was safe from pursuit, Auld Jock chuckled as he +gained the last low level. Fever lent him a brief strength, and the cold +damp was grateful to his hot skin. None were abroad in the Cowgate; and +that was lucky for, in this black hole of Edinburgh, even so old and +poor a man was liable to be set upon by thieves, on the chance of a few +shillings or pence. + +Used as he was to following flocks up treacherous braes and through +drifted glens, and surefooted as a collie, Auld Jock had to pick his way +carefully over the slimy, ice-glazed cobble stones of the Cowgate. He +could see nothing. The scattered gas-lamps, blurred by the wet, only +made a timbered gallery or stone stairs stand out here and there or +lighted up a Gothic gargoyle to a fantastic grin. The street lay so deep +and narrow that sleet and wind wasted little time in finding it out, +but roared and rattled among the gables, dormers and chimney-stacks +overhead. Happy in finding his master himself again, and sniffing fresh +adventure, Bobby tumbled noisily about Auld Jock's feet until reproved. +And here was strange going. Ancient and warring smells confused and +insulted the little country dog's nose. After a few inquiring and +protesting barks Bobby fell into a subdued trot at Auld Jock's heels. + +To this shepherd in exile the romance of Old Edinburgh was a sealed +book. It was, indeed, difficult for the most imaginative to believe +that the Cowgate was once a lovely, wooded ravine, with a rustic burn +babbling over pebbles at its bottom, and along the brook a straggling +path worn smooth by cattle on their driven way to the Grassmarket. Then, +when the Scottish nobility was crowded out of the piled-up mansions, on +the sloping ridge of High Street that ran the mile from the Castle to +Holyrood Palace, splendor camped in the Cowgate, in villas set in fair +gardens, and separated by hedge-rows in which birds nested. + +In time this ravine, too, became overbuilt. Houses tumbled down both +slopes to the winding cattle path, and the burn was arched over to make +a thoroughfare. Laterally, the buildings were crowded together, until +the upper floors were pushed out on timber brackets for light and air. +Galleries, stairs and jutting windows were added to outer walls, and the +mansions climbed, story above story, until the Cowgate was an undercut +canon, such as is worn through rock by the rivers of western America. +Lairds and leddies, powdered, jeweled and satin-shod, were borne in +sedan chairs down ten flights of stone stairs and through torch-lit +courts and tunnel streets, to routs in Castle or Palace and to tourneys +in the Grassmarket. + +From its low situation the Cowgate came in the course of time to smell +to heaven, and out of it was a sudden exodus of grand folk to the +northern hills. The lowest level was given over at once to the poor and +to small trade. The wynds and closes that climbed the southern slope +were eagerly possessed by divines, lawyers and literary men because of +their nearness to the University. Long before Bobby's day the well-to-do +had fled from the Cowgate wynds to the hilltop streets and open squares +about the colleges. A few decent working-men remained in the decaying +houses, some of which were at least three centuries old. But there +swarmed in upon, and submerged them, thousands of criminals, beggars, +and the miserably poor and degraded of many nationalities. Businesses +that fatten on misfortune--the saloon, pawn, old clothes and cheap food +shops-lined the squalid Cowgate. Palaces were cut up into honeycombs of +tall tenements. Every stair was a crowded highway; every passage a +place of deposit for filth; almost every room sheltered a half famished +family, in darkness and ancient dirt. Grand and great, pious and wise, +decent, wretched and terrible folk, of every sort, had preceded Auld +Jock to his lodging in a steep and narrow wynd, and nine gusty flights +up under a beautiful, old Gothic gable. + +A wrought-iron lantern hanging in an arched opening, lighted the +entrance to the wynd. With a hand outstretched to either wall, Auld Jock +felt his way up. Another lantern marked a sculptured doorway that gave +to the foul court of the tenement. No sky could be seen above the open +well of the court, and the carved, oaken banister of the stairs had +to be felt for and clung to by one so short of breath. On the seventh +landing, from the exertion of the long climb, Auld Jock was shaken +into helplessness, and his heart set to pounding, by a violent fit of +coughing. Overhead a shutter was slammed back, and an angry voice bade +him stop "deaving folk." + +The last two flights ascended within the walls. The old man stumbled +into the pitch-black, stifling passage and sat down on the lowest step +to rest. On the landing above he must encounter the auld wifie of a +landlady, rousing her, it might be, and none too good-tempered, from +sleep. Unaware that he added to his master's difficulties, Bobby leaped +upon him and licked the beloved face that he could not see. + +"Eh, laddie, I dinna ken what to do wi' ye. We maun juist hae to sleep +oot." It did not occur to Auld Jock that he could abandon the little +dog. And then there drifted across his memory a bit of Mr. Traill's talk +that, at the time, had seemed to no purpose: "Sir Walter happed the +wee lassie in the pocket of his plaid--" He slapped his knee in silent +triumph. In the dark he found the broad, open end of the plaid, and the +rough, excited head of the little dog. + +"A hap, an' a stap, an' a loup, an' in ye gang. Loup in, laddie." + +Bobby jumped into the pocket and turned 'round and 'round. His little +muzzle opened for a delighted bark at this original play, but Auld Jock +checked him. + +"Cuddle doon noo, an' lie canny as pussy." With a deft turn he brought +the weighted end of the plaid up under his arm so there would be no +betraying drag. "We'll pu' the wool ower the auld wifie's een," he +chuckled. + +He mounted the stairs almost blithely, and knocked on one of the three +narrow doors that opened on the two-by-eight landing. It was opened a +few inches, on a chain, and a sordid old face, framed in straggling +gray locks and a dirty mutch cap, peered suspiciously at him through the +crevice. + +Auld Jock had his money in hand--a shilling and a sixpence--to pay for a +week's lodging. He had slept in this place for several winters, and the +old woman knew him well, but she held his coins to the candle and bit +them with her teeth to test them. Without a word of greeting she shoved +the key to the sleeping-closet he had always fancied, through the crack +in the door, and pointed to a jug of water at the foot of the attic +stairs. On the proffer of a halfpenny she gave him a tallow candle, +lighted it at her own and fitted it into the neck of a beer bottle. + +"Ye hae a cauld." she said at last, with some hostility. "Gin ye wauken +yer neebors yell juist hae to fecht it oot wi' 'em." + +"Ay, I ken a' that," Auld Jock answered. He smothered a cough in his +chest with such effort that it threw him into a perspiration. In some +way, with the jug of water and the lighted candle in his hands and the +hidden terrier under one arm, the old man mounted the eighteen-inch +wide, walled-in attic stairs and unlocked the first of a number of +narrow doors on the passage at the top. + +"Weel aboon the fou' smell," indeed; "weel worth the lang climb!" Around +the loose frames of two wee southward-looking dormer windows, that +jutted from the slope of the gable, came a gush of rain-washed air. Auld +Jock tumbled Bobby, warm and happy and "nane the wiser," out into the +cold cell of a room that was oh, so very, very different from the high, +warm, richly colored library of Sir Walter! This garret closet in the +slums of Edinburgh was all of cut stone, except for the worn, oaken +floor, a flimsy, modern door, and a thin, board partition on one side +through which a "neebor" could be heard snoring. Filling all of the +outer wall between the peephole, leaded windows and running-up to the +slope of the ceiling, was a great fireplace of native white freestone, +carved into fluted columns, foliated capitals, and a flat pediment of +purest classic lines. The ballroom of a noble of Queen Mary's day +had been cut up into numerous small sleeping closets, many of them +windowless, and were let to the chance lodger at threepence the night. +Here, where generations of dancing toes had been warmed, the chimney +vent was bricked up, and a boxed-in shelf fitted, to serve for a bed, +a seat and a table, for such as had neither time nor heart for dancing. +For the romantic history and the beauty of it, Auld Jock had no mind at +all. But, ah! he had other joy often missed by the more fortunate. + +"Be canny, Bobby," he cautioned again. + +The sagacious little dog understood, and pattered about the place +silently. Exhausting it in a moment, and very plainly puzzled and bored, +he sat on his haunches, yawned wide, and looked up inquiringly to his +master. Auld Jock set the jug and the candle on the floor and slipped +off his boots. He had no wish to "wauken 'is neebors." With nervous +haste he threw back one of the windows on its hinges, reached across +the wide stone ledge and brought in-wonder of wonders, in such a place a +tiny earthen pot of heather! + +"Is it no' a bonny posie?" he whispered to Bobby. With this cherished +bit of the country that he had left behind him the April before in his +hands, he sat down in the fireplace bed and lifted Bobby beside him. +He sniffed at the red tuft of purple bloom fondly, and his old face +blossomed into smiles. It was the secret thought of this, and of the +hillward outlook from the little windows, that had ironed the lines +from his face in Mr. Traill's dining-room. Bobby sniffed at the starved +plant, too, and wagged his tail with pleasure, for a dog's keenest +memories are recorded by the nose. + +Overhead, loose tiles and finials rattled in the wind, that was dying +away in fitful gusts; but Auld Jock heard nothing. In fancy he was away +on the braes, in the shy sun and wild wet of April weather. Shepherds +were shouting, sheepdogs barking, ewes bleating, and a wee puppy, still +unnamed, scampering at his heels in the swift, dramatic days of lambing +time. And so, presently, when the forlorn hope of the little pot had +been restored to the ledge, master and dog were in tune with the open +country, and began a romp such as they often had indulged in behind the +byre on a quiet, Sabbath afternoon. + +They had learned to play there like two well-brought-up children, in +pantomime, so as not to scandalize pious countryfolk. Now, in obedience +to a gesture, a nod, a lifted eyebrow, Bobby went through all his pretty +tricks, and showed how far his serious education had progressed.. He +rolled over and over, begged, vaulted the low hurdle of his master's +arm, and played "deid." He scampered madly over imaginary pastures; +ran, straight as a string, along a stone wall; scrambled under a thorny +hedge; chased rabbits, and dug foxes out of holes; swam a burn, flushed +feeding curlews, and "froze" beside a rat-hole. When the excitement was +at its height and the little dog was bursting with exuberance, Auld +Jock forgot his caution. Holding his bonnet just out of reach, he cried +aloud: + +"Loup, Bobby!" + +Bobby jumped for the bonnet, missed it, jumped again and barked-the +high-pitched, penetrating yelp of the terrier. + +Instantly their little house of joy tumbled about their ears. There was +a pounding on the thin partition wall, an oath and a shout "Whaur's +the deil o' a dog?" Bobby flew at the insulting clamor, but Auld Jock +dragged him back roughly. In a voice made harsh by fear for his little +pet, he commanded: + +"Haud yer gab or they'll hae ye oot." + +Bobby dropped like a shot, cringing at Auld Jock's feet. The most +sensitive of four-footed creatures in the world, the Skye terrier is +utterly abased by a rebuke from his master. The whole garret was soon in +an uproar of vile accusation and shrill denial that spread from cell to +cell. + +Auld Jock glowered down at Bobby with frightened eyes. In the winters he +had lodged there he had lived unmolested only because he had managed to +escape notice. Timid old country body that he was, he could not "fecht +it oot" with the thieves and beggars and drunkards of the Cowgate. By +and by the brawling died down. In the double row of little dens this one +alone was silent, and the offending dog was not located. + +But when the danger was past, Auld Jock's heart was pounding in his +chest. His legs gave way under him, when he got up to fetch the candle +from near the door and set it on a projecting brick in the fireplace. +By its light he began to read in a small pocket Bible the Psalm that had +always fascinated him because he had never been able to understand it. + +"The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want." + +So far it was plain and comforting. "He maketh me to lie down in green +pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters." + +Nae, the pastures were brown, or purple and yellow with heather and +gorse. Rocks cropped out everywhere, and the peaty tarps were mostly +bleak and frozen. The broad Firth was ever ebbing and flowing with the +restless sea, and the burns bickering down the glens. The minister of +the little hill kirk had said once that in England the pastures were +green and the lakes still and bright; but that was a fey, foreign +country to which Auld Jock had no desire to go. He wondered, wistfully, +if he would feel at home in God's heaven, and if there would be room +in that lush silence for a noisy little dog, as there was on the rough +Pentland braes. And there his thoughts came back to this cold prison +cell in which he could not defend the right of his one faithful little +friend to live. He stooped and lifted Bobby into the bed. Humble, and +eager to be forgiven for an offense he could not understand, the +loving little creature leaped to Auld Jock's arms and lavished frantic +endearments upon him. + +Lying so together in the dark, man and dog fell into a sleep that was +broken by Auld Jock's fitful coughing and the abuse of his neighbors. +It was not until the wind had long died to a muffled murmur at the +casements, and every other lodger was out, that Auld Jock slept soundly. +He awoke late to find Bobby waiting patiently on the floor and the +bare cell flooded with white glory. That could mean but one thing. He +stumbled dizzily to his feet and threw a sash aback. Over the huddle of +high housetops, the University towers and the scattered suburbs beyond, +he looked away to the snow-clad slopes of the Pentlands, running up to +heaven and shining under the pale winter sunshine. + +"The snaw! Eh, Bobby, but it's a bonny sicht to auld een!" he cried, +with the simple delight of a child. He stooped to lift Bobby to the +wonder of it, when the world suddenly went black and roaring around in +his head. Staggering back he crumpled up in a pitiful heap on the floor. + +Bobby licked his master's face and hands, and then sat quietly down +beside him. So many strange, uncanny things had happened within the +last twenty-four hours that the little dog was rapidly outgrowing his +irresponsible puppyhood. After a long time Auld Jock opened his eyes and +sat up. Bobby put his paws on his master's knees in anxious sympathy. +Before the man had got his wits about him the time-gun boomed from the +Castle. Panic-stricken that he should have slept in his bed so late, and +then lain senseless on the floor for he knew not how long, Auld Jock got +up and struggled into his greatcoat, bonnet and plaid. In feeling for +his woolen mittens he discovered the buns that Mr. Trail had dropped +into his pocket for Bobby. + +The old man stared and stared at them in piteous dismay. Mr. Traill had +believed him to be so ill that he "wouldna be oot the morn." It was a +staggering thought. + +The bells of St. Giles broke into "Over the Hills and Far Away." The +melody came to Auld Jock clearly, unbroken by echoes, for the garret was +on a level with the cathedral's crown on High Street. It brought to him +again a vision of the Midlothian slopes, but it reminded Bobby that it +was dinner-time. He told Auld Jock so by running to the door and back +and begging him, by every pretty wile at his command, to go. The old man +got to his feet and then fell back, pale and shaken, his heart hammering +again. Bobby ate the bun soberly and then sat up against Auld Jock's +feet, that dangled helplessly from the bed. The bells died away from +the man's ears before they had ceased playing. Both the church and the +University bells struck the hour of two then three then four. Daylight +had begun to fail when Auld Jock stirred, sat up, and did a strange +thing: taking from his pocket a leather bag-purse that was closed by a +draw-string, he counted the few crowns and shillings in it and the many +smaller silver and copper coins. + +"There's eneugh," he said. There was enough, by careful spending, to pay +for food and lodging for a few weeks, to save himself from the charity +of the infirmary. By this act he admitted the humiliating and fearful +fact that he was very ill. The precious little hoard must be hidden from +the chance prowler. He looked for a loose brick in the fireplace, but +before he found one, he forgot all about it, and absent-mindedly heaped +the coins in a little pile on the open Bible at the back of the bed. + +For a long time Auld Jock sat there with his head in his hands before +he again slipped back to his pillow. Darkness stole into the quiet room. +The lodgers returned to their dens one after one, tramping or slipping +or hobbling up the stairs and along the passage. Bobby bristled and +froze, on guard, when a stealthy hand tried the latch. Then there +were sounds of fighting, of crying women, and the long, low wailing +of-wretched children. The evening drum and bugle were heard from the +Castle, and hour after hour was struck from the clock of St. Giles while +Bobby watched beside his master. + +All night Auld Jock was "aff 'is heid." When he muttered in his sleep or +cried out in the delirium of fever, the little dog put his paws upon the +bed-rail. He scratched on it and begged to be lifted to where he could +comfort his master, for the shelf was set too high for him to climb into +the bed. Unable to get his master's attention, he licked the hot hand +that hung over the side. Auld Jock lay still at last, not coughing any +more, but breathing rapid, shallow breaths. Just at dawn he turned his +head and gazed in bewilderment at the alert and troubled little creature +that was instantly upon the rail. After a long time he recognized the +dog and patted the shaggy little head. Feeling around the bed, he found +the other bun and dropped it on the floor. Presently he said, between +strangled breaths: + +"Puir--Bobby! Gang--awa'--hame--laddie." + +After that it was suddenly very still in the brightening room. Bobby +gazed and gazed at his master--one long, heartbroken look, then dropped +to all fours and stood trembling. Without another look he stretched +himself upon the hearthstone below the bed. + +Morning and evening footsteps went down and came up on the stairs. +Throughout the day--the babel of crowded tenement strife; the crying of +fishwives and fagot-venders in the court; the striking of the hours; the +boom of the time gun and sweet clamor of music bells; the failing of the +light and the soaring note of the bugle--he watched motionless beside +his master. + +Very late at night shuffling footsteps came up the stairs. The "auld +wifie" kept a sharp eye on the comings and goings of her lodgers. It was +"no' canny" that this old man, with a cauld in his chest, had gone up +full two days before and had not come down again. To bitter complaints +of his coughing and of his strange talking to himself she gave scant +attention, but foul play was done often enough in these dens to make +her uneasy. She had no desire to have the Burgh police coming about +and interfering with her business. She knocked sharply on the door and +called: + +"Auld Jock!" + +Bobby trotted over to the door and stood looking at it. In such a strait +he would naturally have welcomed the visitor, scratching on the panel, +and crying to any human body without to come in and see what had +befallen his master. But Auld Jock had bade him "haud 'is gab" there, +as in Greyfriars kirkyard. So he held to loyal silence, although the +knocking and shaking of the latch was insistent and the lodgers were +astir. The voice of the old woman was shrill with alarm. + +"Auld Jock, can ye no' wauken?" And, after a moment, in which the +unlatched casement window within could be heard creaking on its hinges +in the chill breeze, there was a hushed and frightened question: + +"Are ye deid?" + +The footsteps fled down the stairs, and Bobby was left to watch through +the long hours of darkness. + +Very early in the morning the flimsy door was quietly forced by +authority. The first man who entered--an officer of the Crown from the +sheriff's court on the bridge--took off his hat to the majesty that +dominated that bare cell. The Cowgate region presented many a startling +contrast, but such a one as this must seldom have been seen. The classic +fireplace, and the motionless figure and peaceful face of the pious old +shepherd within it, had the dignity and beauty of some monumental tomb +and carved effigy in old Greyfriars kirkyard. Only less strange was the +contrast between the marks of poverty and toil on the dead man and the +dainty grace of the little fluff of a dog that mourned him. + +No such men as these--officers of her Majesty the Queen, Burgh +policemen, and learned doctors from the Royal Infirmary--had ever been +aware of Auld Jock, living. Dead, and no' needing them any more, they +stood guard over him, and inquired sternly as to the manner in which +he had died. There was a hysterical breath of relief from the crowd +of lodgers and tenants when the little pile of coins was found on the +Bible. There had been no foul play. Auld Jock had died of heart failure, +from pneumonia and worn-out old age. + +"There's eneugh," a Burgh policeman said when the money was counted. He +meant much the same thing Auld Jock himself had meant. There was enough +to save him from the last indignity a life of useful labor can thrust +upon the honest poor--pauper burial. But when inquiries were made for +the name and the friends of this old man there appeared to be only "Auld +Jock" to enter into the record, and a little dog to follow the body to +the grave. It was a Bible reader who chanced to come in from the Medical +Mission in the Cowgate who thought to look in the fly-leaf of Auld +Jock's Bible. + +"His name is John Gray." + +He laid the worn little book on Auld Jock's breast and crossed the +work-scarred hands upon it. "It's something by the ordinar' to find +a gude auld country body in such a foul place." He stooped and patted +Bobby, and noted the bun, untouched, upon the floor. Turning to a wild +elf of a barefooted child in the crowd he spoke to her. "Would you share +your gude brose with the bit dog, lassie?" + +She darted down the stairs, and presently returned with her own scanty +bowl of breakfast porridge. Bobby refused the food, but he looked at her +so mournfully that the first tears of pity her unchildlike eyes had ever +shed welled up. She put out her hand timidly and stroked him. + +It was just before the report of the time-gun that two policemen cleared +the stairs, shrouded Auld Jock in his own greatcoat and plaid, and +carried him down to the court. There they laid him in a plain box of +white deal that stood on the pavement, closed it, and went away down the +wynd on a necessary errand. The Bible-reader sat on an empty beer keg to +guard the box, and Bobby climbed on the top and stretched himself above +his master. The court was a well, more than a hundred feet deep. What +sky might have been visible above it was hidden by tier above tier of +dingy, tattered washings. The stairway filled again, and throngs of +outcasts of every sort went about their squalid businesses, with only a +curious glance or so at the pathetic group. + +Presently the policemen returned from the Cowgate with a motley +assortment of pallbearers. There was a good-tempered Irish laborer from +a near-by brewery; a decayed gentleman, unsteady of gait and blear-eyed, +in greasy frock-coat and broken hat; a flashily dressed bartender +who found the task distasteful; a stout, bent-backed fagot-carrier; a +drunken fisherman from New Haven, suddenly sobered by this uncanny +duty, and a furtive, gaol-bleached thief who feared a trap and tried to +escape. + +Tailed by scuffling gamins, the strange little procession moved quickly +down the wynd and turned into the roaring Cowgate. The policemen went +before to force a passage through the press. The Bible-reader followed +the box, and Bobby, head and tail down, trotted unnoticed, beneath +it. The humble funeral train passed under a bridge arch into the empty +Grassmarket, and went up Candlemakers Row to the kirkyard gate. Such as +Auld Jock, now, by unnumbered thousands, were coming to lie among the +grand and great, laird and leddy, poet and prophet, persecutor and +martyr, in the piled-up, historic burying-ground of old Greyfriars. + +By a gesture the caretaker directed the bearers to the right, past the +church, and on down the crowded slope to the north, that was circled +about by the backs of the tenements in the Grassmarket and Candlemakers +Row. The box was lowered at once, and the pall-bearers hastily departed +to delayed dinners. The policemen had urgent duties elsewhere. Only the +Bible reader remained to see the grave partly filled in, and to try to +persuade Bobby to go away with him. But the little dog resisted with +such piteous struggles that the man put him down again. The grave digger +leaned on his spade for a bit of professional talk. + +"Many a dog gangs daft an' greets like a human body when his maister +dees. They're aye put oot, a time or twa, an' they gang to folic that +ken them, an' syne they tak' to ithers. Dinna fash yersel' aboot 'im. He +wullna greet lang." + +Since Bobby would not go, there was nothing to do but leave him there; +but it was with many a backward look and disturbing doubt that the +good man turned away. The grave-digger finished his task cheerfully, +shouldered his tools, and left the kirkyard. The early dark was coming +on when the caretaker, in making his last rounds, found the little +terrier flattened out on the new-made mound. + +"Gang awa' oot!" he ordered. Bobby looked up pleadingly and trembled, +but he made no motion to obey. James Brown was not an unfeeling man, and +he was but doing his duty. From an impulse of pity for this bonny wee +bit of loyalty and grief he picked Bobby up, carried him all the way to +the gate and set him over the wicket on the pavement. + +"Gang awa' hame, noo," he said, kindly. "A kirkya'rd isna a place for a +bit dog to be leevin'." + +Bobby lay where he had been dropped until the caretaker was out of +sight. Then, finding the aperture under the gate too small for him +to squeeze through, he tried, in his ancestral way, to enlarge it by +digging. He scratched and scratched at the unyielding stone until his +little claws were broken and his toes bleeding, before he stopped and +lay down with his nose under the wicket. + + Just before the closing hour a carriage stopped at the +kirkyard gate. A black-robed lady, carrying flowers, hurried through the +wicket. Bobby slipped in behind her and disappeared. + +After nightfall, when the lamps were lighted on the bridge, when Mr. +Traill had come out to stand idly in his doorway, looking for some one +to talk to, and James Brown had locked the kirkyard yard gate for the +night and gone into his little stone lodge to supper, Bobby came out of +hiding and stretched himself prone across Auld Jock's grave. + + + + +IV. + +Fifteen minutes after the report of the time-gun on Monday, when the +bells were playing their merriest and the dining-rooms were busiest, +Mr. Traill felt such a tiny tug at his trouser-leg that it was repeated +before he gave it attention. In the press of hungry guests Bobby had +little more than room to rise in his pretty, begging attitude. The +landlord was so relieved to see him again, after five conscience +stricken days, that he stooped to clap the little dog on the side and to +greet him with jocose approval. + +"Gude dog to fetch Auld Jock--" + +With a faint and piteous cry that was heard by no one but Mr. Traill, +Bobby toppled over on the floor. It was a limp little bundle that the +landlord picked up from under foot and held on his arm a moment, while +he looked around for the dog's master. Shocked at not seeing Auld Jock, +by a kind of inspiration he carried the little dog to the inglenook +and laid him down under the familiar settle. Bobby was little more than +breathing, but he opened his silkily veiled brown eyes and licked the +friendly hand that had done this refinement of kindness. It took Mr. +Traill more than a moment to realize the nature of the trouble. A dog +with so thick a fleece of wool, under so crisply waving an outer coat +as Bobby's, may perish for lack of food and show no outward sign of +emaciation. + +"The sonsie, wee--why, he's all but starved!" + +Pale with pity, Mr. Traill snatched a plate of broth from the hands of +a gaping waiter laddie, set it under Bobby's nose, and watched him begin +to lap the warm liquid eagerly. In the busy place the incident passed +unnoticed. With his usual, brisk decision Mr. Traill turned the backs of +a couple of chairs over against the nearest table, to signify that the +corner was reserved, and he went about his duties with unwonted silence. +As the crowd thinned he returned to the inglenook to find Bobby asleep, +not curled up in a tousled ball, as such a little dog should be, but +stretched on his side and breathing irregularly. + +If Bobby was in such straits, how must it be with Auld Jock? This was +the fifth day since the sick old man had fled into the storm. With new +disquiet Mr. Traill remembered a matter that had annoyed him in the +morning, and that he had been inclined to charge to mischievous Heriot +boys. Low down on the outside of his freshly varnished entrance door +were many scratches that Bobby could have made. He may have come for +food on the Sabbath day when the place was closed. + +After an hour Bobby woke long enough to eat a generous plate of that +delectable and highly nourishing Scotch dish known as haggis. He fell +asleep again in an easier attitude that relieved the tension on the +landlord's feelings. Confident that the devoted little dog would lead +him straight to his master, Mr. Traill closed the door securely, that he +might not escape unnoticed, and arranged his own worldly affairs so he +could leave them to hirelings on the instant. In the idle time between +dinner and supper he sat down by the fire, lighted his pipe, repented +his unruly tongue, and waited. As the short day darkened to its close +the sunset bugle was blown in the Castle. At the first note, Bobby crept +from under the settle, a little unsteady on his legs as yet, wagged his +tail for thanks, and trotted to the door. + +Mr. Traill had no trouble at all in keeping the little dog in sight to +the kirkyard gate, for in the dusk his coat shone silvery white. Indeed, +by a backward look now and then, Bobby seemed to invite the man to +follow, and waited at the gate, with some impatience, for him to +come up. Help was needed there. By rising and tugging at Mr. Traill's +clothing and then jumping on the wicket Bobby plainly begged to have it +opened. He made no noise, neither barking nor whimpering, and that was +very strange for a dog of the terrier breed; but each instant of delay +he became more insistent, and even frantic, to have the gate unlatched. +Mr. Traill refused to believe what Bobby's behavior indicated, and +reproved him in the broad Scotch to which the country dog was used. + +"Nae, Bobby; be a gude dog. Gang doon to the Coogate noo, an' find Auld +Jock." + +Uttering no cry at all, Bobby gave the man such a woebegone look and +dropped to the pavement, with his long muzzle as far under the wicket +as he could thrust it, that the truth shot home to Mr. Traill's +understanding. He opened the gate. Bobby slipped through and stood just +inside a moment, and looking back as if he expected his human friend +to follow. Then, very suddenly, as the door of the lodge opened and the +caretaker came out, Bobby disappeared in the shadow of the church. + +A big-boned, slow-moving man of the best country house-gardener type, +serviceably dressed in corduroy, wool bonnet, and ribbed stockings, +James Brown collided with the small and wiry landlord, to his own very +great embarrassment. + +"Eh, Maister Traill, ye gied me a turn. It's no' canny to be proolin' +aboot the kirkyaird i' the gloamin'." + +"Whaur did the bit dog go, man?" demanded the peremptory landlord. + +"Dog? There's no' ony dog i' the kirkyaird. It isna permeetted. Gin it's +a pussy ye're needin', noo--" + +But Mr. Traill brushed this irrelevant pleasantry aside. + +"Ay, there's a dog. I let him in my ainsel'." + +The caretaker exploded with wrath: "Syne I'll hae the law on ye. Can ye +no' read, man?" + +"Tut, tut, Jeemes Brown. Don't stand there arguing. It's a gude and +necessary regulation, but it's no' the law o' the land. I turned the dog +in to settle a matter with my ain conscience, and John Knox would have +done the same thing in the bonny face o' Queen Mary. What it is, is nae +beesiness of yours. The dog was a sma' young terrier of the Highland +breed, but with a drop to his ears and a crinkle in his frosty coat--no' +just an ordinar' dog. I know him weel. He came to my place to be fed, +near dead of hunger, then led me here. If his master lies in this +kirkyard, I'll tak' the bit dog awa' with me." + +Mr. Traill's astonishing fluency always carried all walls of resistance +before it with men of slower wit and speech. Only a superior man could +brush time-honored rules aside so curtly and stand on his human rights +so surely. James Brown pulled his bonnet off deferentially, scratched +his shock head and shifted his pipe. Finally he admitted: + +"Weel, there was a bit tyke i' the kirkyaird twa days syne. I put 'im +oot, an' haena seen 'im aboot ony main" He offered, however, to show the +new-made mound on which he had found the dog. Leading the way past the +church, he went on down the terraced slope, prolonging the walk with +conversation, for the guardianship of an old churchyard offers very +little such lively company as John Traill's. + +"I mind, noo, it was some puir body frae the Coogate, wi' no' ony +mourners but the sma' terrier aneath the coffin. I let 'im pass, no' +to mak' a disturbance at a buryin'. The deal box was fetched up by the +police, an' carried by sic a crew o' gaol-birds as wad mak' ye turn ower +in yer ain God's hole. But he paid for his buryin' wi' his ain siller, +an' noo lies as canny as the nobeelity. Nae boot here's the place, +Maister Traill; an' ye can see for yer ainsel' there's no' any dog." + +"Ay, that would be Auld Jock and Bobby would no' be leaving him," +insisted the landlord, stubbornly. He stood looking down at the rough +mound of frozen clods heaped in a little space of trampled snow. + +"Jeemes Brown," Mr. Trail said, at last, "the man wha lies here was a +decent, pious auld country body, and I drove him to his meeserable death +in the Cowgate." + +"Man, ye dinna ken what ye're sayin'!" was the shocked response. + +"Do I no'? I'm canny, by the ordinar', but my fule tongue will get me +into trouble with the magistrates one of these days. It aye wags at both +ends, and is no' tied in the middle." + +Then, stanch Calvinist that he was, and never dreaming that he was +indulging in the sinful pleasure of confession, Mr. Traill poured out +the story of Auld Jock's plight and of his own shortcomings. It was a +bitter, upbraiding thing that he, an uncommonly capable man, had meant +so well by a humble old body, and done so ill. And he had failed again +when he tried to undo the mischief. The very next morning he had gone +down into the perilous Cowgate, and inquired in every place where it +might be possible for such a timid old shepherd to be known. But there! +As well look for a burr thistle in a bin of oats, as look for a human +atom in the Cowgate and the wynds "juist aff." + +"Weel, noo, ye couldna hae dune aething wi' the auld body, ava, gin he +wouldna gang to the infairmary." The caretaker was trying to console the +self-accusing man. + +"Could I no'? Ye dinna ken me as weel as ye micht." The disgusted +landlord tumbled into broad Scotch. "Gie me to do it ance mair, an' I'd +chairge Auld Jock wi' thievin' ma siller, wi' a wink o' the ee at the +police to mak' them ken I was leein'; an' syne they'd hae hustled 'im +aff, willy-nilly, to a snug bed." + +The energetic little man looked so entirely capable of any daring deed +that he fired the caretaker into enthusiastic search for Bobby. It was +not entirely dark, for the sky was studded with stars, snow lay in broad +patches on the slope, and all about the lower end of the kirkyard supper +candles burned at every rear window of the tall tenements. + +The two men searched among the near-by slabs and table-tombs and +scattered thorn bushes. They circled the monument to all the martyrs who +had died heroically, in the Grassmarket and elsewhere, for their faith. +They hunted in the deep shadows of the buttresses along the side of the +auld kirk and among the pillars of the octagonal portico to the new. At +the rear of the long, low building, that was clumsily partitioned across +for two pulpits, stood the ornate tomb of "Bluidy" McKenzie. But Bobby +had not committed himself to the mercy of the hanging judge, nor yet +to the care of the doughty minister, who, from the pulpit of Greyfriars +auld kirk, had flung the blood and tear stained Covenant in the teeth of +persecution. + +The search was continued past the modest Scott family burial plot and +on to the west wall. There was a broad outlook over Heriot's Hospital +grounds, a smooth and shining expanse of unsullied snow about the early +Elizabethan pile of buildings. Returning, they skirted the lowest wall +below the tenements, for in the circling line of courtyarded vaults, +where the "nobeelity" of Scotland lay haughtily apart under timestained +marbles, were many shadowy nooks in which so small a dog could stow +himself away. Skulking cats were flushed there, and sent flying over +aristocratic bones, but there was no trace of Bobby. + +The second tier of windows of the tenements was level with the kirkyard +wall, and several times Mr. Traill called up to a lighted casement where +a family sat at a scant supper. + +"Have you seen a bit dog, man?" + +There was much cordial interest in his quest, windows opening and faces +staring into the dusk; but not until near the top of the Row was a clue +gained. Then, at the query, an unkempt, illclad lassie slipped from her +stool and leaned out over the pediment of a tomb. She had seen a "wee, +wee doggie jinkin' amang the stanes." It was on the Sabbath evening, +when the well-dressed folk had gone home from the afternoon services. +She was eating her porridge at the window, "by her lane," when he +"keeked up at her so knowing, and begged so bonny," that she balanced +her bit bowl on a lath, and pushed it over on the kirkyard wall. As she +finished the story the big, blue eyes of the little maid, who doubtless +had herself known what it was to be hungry, filled with tears. + +"The wee tyke couldna loup up to it, an' a deil o' a pussy got it a'. He +was so bonny, like a leddy's pet, an' syne he fell ower on the snaw an' +creepit awa'. He didna cry oot, but he was a' but deid wi' hunger." +At the memory of it soft-hearted Ailie Lindsey sobbed on her mother's +shoulder. + +The tale was retold from one excited window to another, all the way +around and all the way up to the gables, so quickly could some incident +of human interest make a social gathering in the populous tenements. +Most of all, the children seized upon the touching story. Eager and +pinched little faces peered wistfully into the melancholy kirkyard. + +"Is he yer ain dog?" crippled Tammy Barr piped out, in his thin treble. +"Gin I had a bonny wee dog I'd gie 'im ma ain brose, an' cuddle 'im, an' +he couldna gang awa'." + +"Nae, laddie, he's no' my dog. His master lies buried here, and the leal +Highlander mourns for him." With keener appreciation of its pathos, Mr. +Traill recalled that this was what Auld Jock had said: "Bobby isna ma +ain dog." And he was conscious of wishing that Bobby was his own, with +his unpurchasable love and a loyalty to face starvation. As he mounted +the turfed terraces he thought to call back: + +"If you see him again, lassie, call him 'Bobby,' and fetch him up to +Greyfriars Dining-Rooms. I have a bright siller shulling, with the +Queen's bonny face on it, to give the bairn that finds Bobby." + +There was excited comment on this. He must, indeed, be an attractive +dog to be worth a shilling. The children generously shared plans for +capturing Bobby. But presently the windows were closed, and supper was +resumed. The caretaker was irritable. + +"Noo, ye'll hae them a' oot swarmin' ower the kirkyaird. There's nae +coontin' the bairns o' the neeborhood, an' nane o' them are so weel +broucht up as they micht be." + +Mr. Traill commented upon this philosophically: "A bairn is like a dog +in mony ways. Tak' a stick to one or the other and he'll misbehave. The +children here are poor and neglected, but they're no' vicious like the +awfu' imps of the Cowgate, wha'd steal from their blind grandmithers. +Get on the gude side of the bairns, man, and you'll live easier and die +happier." + +It seemed useless to search the much longer arm of the kirkyard that ran +southward behind the shops of Greyfriars Place and Forest Road. If Bobby +was in the enclosure at all he would not be far from Auld Jock's grave. +Nearest the new-made mound were two very old and dark table-tombs. The +farther one lay horizontally, on its upright "through stanes," some +distance above the earth. The supports of the other had fallen, and the +table lay on their thickness within six inches of the ground. Mr. Traill +and the caretaker sat upon this slab, which testified to the piety and +worth of one Mistress Jean Grant, who had died "lang syne." + +Encroached upon, as it was, by unlovely life, Greyfriars kirkyard was +yet a place of solitude and peace. The building had the dignity +that only old age can give. It had lost its tower by an explosion +of gunpowder stored there in war time, and its walls and many of the +ancient tombs bore the marks of fire and shot. Within the last decade +some of the Gothic openings had been filled with beautiful memorial +windows. Despite the horrors and absurdities and mutilation of much of +the funeral sculpturing, the kirkyard had a sad distinction, such as +became its fame as Scotland's Westminster. And, there was one heavenward +outlook and heavenly view. Over the tallest decaying tenement one could +look up to the Castle of dreams on the crag, and drop the glance all the +way down the pinnacled crest of High Street, to the dark and deserted +Palace of Holyrood. After nightfall the turreted heights wore a luminous +crown, and the steep ridge up to it twinkled with myriad lights. After a +time the caretaker offered a well-considered opinion. + +"The dog maun hae left the kirkyaird. Thae terriers are aye barkin'. +It'd be maist michty noo, gin he'd be so lang i' the kirkyaird, an' no' +mak' a blatterin'." + +As a man of superior knowledge Mr. Traill found pleasure in upsetting +this theory. "The Highland breed are no' like ordinar' terriers. Noisy +enough to deave one, by nature, give a bit Skye a reason and he'll lie +a' the day under a whin bush on the brae, as canny as a fox. You gave +Bobby a reason for hiding here by turning him out. And Auld Jock was a +vera releegious man. It would no' be surprising if he taught Bobby to +hold his tongue in a kirkyard." + +"Man, he did that vera thing." James Brown brought his fist down on his +knee; for suddenly he identified Bobby as the snappy little ruffian +that had chased the cat and bitten his shins, and Auld Jock as the +scandalized shepherd who had rebuked the dog so bitterly. He related the +incident with gusto. + +"The auld man cried oot on the misbehavin' tyke to haud 'is gab. Syne, +ye ne'er saw the bit dog's like for a bairn that'd haen a lickin'. He'd +'a' gaen into a pit, gin there'd been ane, an' pu'd it in ahind 'im. +I turned 'em baith oot, an' told 'em no' to come back. Eh, man, it's +fearsome hoo ilka body comes to a kirkyaird, toes afore 'im, in a long +box." + +Mr. Brown was sobered by this grim thought and then, in his turn, he +confessed a slip to this tolerant man of the world. "The wee deil o' a +sperity dog nipped me so I let oot an aith." + +"Ay, that's Bobby. He would no' be afraid of onything with hide or hair +on it. Man, the Skye terriers go into dens of foxes and wildcats, and +worry bulls till they tak' to their heels. And Bobby's sagacious by the +ordinar'." He thought intently for a moment, and then spoke naturally, +and much as Auld Jock himself might have spoken to the dog. + +"Whaur are ye, Bobby? Come awa' oot, laddie!" + +Instantly the little dog stood before him like some conjured ghost. He +had slipped from under the slab on which they were sitting. It lay +so near the ground, and in such a mat of dead grass, that it had +not occurred to them to look for him there. He came up to Mr. Traill +confidently, submitted to having his head patted, and looked pleadingly +at the caretaker. Then, thinking he had permission to do so, he lay down +on the mound. James Brown dropped his pipe. + +"It's maist michty!" he said. + +Mr. Traill got to his feet briskly. "I'll just tak' the dog with me, +Mr. Brown. On marketday I'll find the farmer that owns him and send +him hame. As you say, a kirkyard's nae place for a dog to be living +neglected. Come awa', Bobby." + +Bobby looked up, but, as he made no motion to obey, Mr. Traill stooped +and lifted him. + +From sheer surprise at this unexpected move the little dog lay still a +moment on the man's arm. Then, with a lithe twist of his muscular body +and a spring, he was on the ground, trembling, reproachful for the +breach of faith, but braced for resistance. + +"Eh, you're no' going?" Mr. Traill put his hands in his pockets, looked +down at Bobby admiringly, and sighed. "There's a dog after my ain heart, +and he'll have naething to do with me. He has a mind of his ain. I'll +just have to be leaving him here the two days, Mr. Brown." + +"Ye wullna leave 'im! Ye'll tak' 'im wi' ye, or I'll hae to put 'im oot. +Man, I couldna haud the place gin I brak the rules." + +"You--will--no'--put--the--wee--dog--out!" Mr. Traill shook a playful, +emphatic finger under the big man's nose. + +"Why wull I no'?" + +"Because, man, you have a vera soft heart, and you canna deny it." It +was with a genial, confident smile that Mr. Traill made this terrible +accusation. + +"Ma heart's no' so saft as to permit a bit dog to scandalize the deid." + +"He's been here two days, you no' knowing it, and he has scandalized +neither the dead nor the living. He's as leal as ony Covenanter here, +and better conducted than mony a laird. He's no the quarrelsome kind, +but, man, for a principle he'd fight like auld Clootie." Here the +landlord's heat gave way to pure enjoyment of the situation. "Eh, I'd +like to see you put him out. It would be another Flodden Field." + +The angry caretaker shrugged his broad shoulders. + +"Ye can see it, gin ye stand by, in juist one meenit. Fecht as he may, +it wull soon be ower." + +Mr. Traill laughed easily, and ventured the opinion that Mr. Brown's +bark was worse than his bite. As he went through the gateway he could +not resist calling back a challenge: "I daur you to do it." + +Mr. Brown locked the gate, went sulkily into the lodge, lighted his +cutty pipe, and smoked it furiously. He read a Psalm with deliberation, +poked up an already bright fire, and glowered at his placid gude wife. +It was not to be borne--to be defied by a ten-inch-high terrier, and +dared, by a man a third under his own weight, to do his duty. After an +hour or so he worked himself up to the point of going out and slamming +the door. + +At eight o'clock Mr. Traill found Bobby on the pavement outside the +locked gate. He was not sorry that the fortunes of unequal battle +had thrown the faithful little dog on his hospitality. Bobby begged +piteously to be put inside, but he seemed to understand at last that +the gate was too high for Mr. Traill to drop him over. He followed +the landlord up to the restaurant willingly. He may have thought this +champion had another solution of the difficulty, for when he saw the man +settle comfortably in a chair he refused to lie on the hearth. He ran to +the door and back, and begged and whined to be let out. For a long time +he stood dejectedly. He was not sullen, for he ate a light supper and +thanked his host with much polite wagging, and he even allowed himself +to be petted. Suddenly he thought of something, trotted briskly off to a +corner and crouched there. + +Mr. Traill watched the attractive little creature with interest and +growing affection. Very likely he indulged in a day-dream that, perhaps, +the tenant of Cauldbrae farm could be induced to part with Bobby for +a consideration, and that he himself could win the dog to transfer his +love from a cold grave to a warm hearth. + +With a spring the rat was captured. A jerk of the long head and there +was proof of Bobby's prowess to lay at his good friend's feet. Made much +of, and in a position to ask fresh favors, the little dog was off to the +door with cheerful, staccato barks. His reasoning was as plain as print: +"I hae done ye a service, noo tak' me back to the kirkyaird." + +Mr. Traill talked to him as he might have reasoned with a bright bairn. +Bobby listened patiently, but remained of the same mind. At last +he moved away, disappointed in this human person, discouraged, but +undefeated in his purpose. He lay down by the door. Mr. Traill watched +him, for if any chance late comer opened the door the masterless little +dog would be out into the perils of the street. Bobby knew what doors +were for and, very likely, expected some such release. He waited a long +time patiently. Then he began to run back and forth. He put his paws +upon Mr. Traill and whimpered and cried. Finally he howled. + +It was a dreadful, dismal, heartbroken howl that echoed back from the +walls. He howled continuously, until the landlord, quite distracted, and +concerned about the peace of his neighbors, thrust Bobby into the dark +scullery at the rear, and bade him stop his noise. For fully ten minutes +the dog was quiet. He was probably engaged in exploring his new quarters +to find an outlet. Then he began to howl again. It was truly astonishing +that so small a dog could make so large a noise. + +A battle was on between the endurance of the man and the persistence of +the terrier. Mr. Traill was speculating on which was likely to be victor +in the contest, when the front door was opened and the proprietor of the +Book Hunter's Stall put in a bare, bald head and the abstracted face of +the book-worm that is mildly amused. + +"Have you tak'n to a dog at your time o' life, Mr. Traill?" + +"Ay, man, and it would be all right if the bit dog would just tak' to +me." + +This pleasantry annoyed a good man who had small sense of humor, and he +remarked testily "The barkin' disturbs my customers so they canna read." +The place was a resort for student laddies who had to be saving of +candles. + +"That's no' right," the landlord admitted, sympathetically. "'Reading +mak'th a full man.' Eh, what a deeference to the warld if Robbie Burns +had aye preferred a book to a bottle." The bookseller refused to be +beguiled from his just cause of complaint into the flowery meads of +literary reminiscences and speculations. + +"You'll stop that dog's cleaving noise, Mr. Traill, or I'll appeal to +the Burgh police." + +The landlord returned a bland and child-like smile. "You'd be weel +within your legal rights to do it, neebor." + +The door was shut with such a business-like click that the situation +suddenly became serious. Bobby's vocal powers, however, gave no signs of +diminishing. Mr. Traill quieted the dog for a few moments by letting him +into the outer room, but the swiftness and energy with which he renewed +his attacks on the door and on the man's will showed plainly that the +truce was only temporary. He did not know what he meant to do except +that he certainly had no intention of abandoning the little dog. To gain +time he put on his hat and coat, picked Bobby up, and opened the door. +The thought occurred to him to try the gate at the upper end of the +kirkyard or, that failing, to get into Heriot's Hospital grounds and put +Bobby over the wall. As he opened the door, however, he heard Geordie +Ross's whistle around the bend in Forest Road. + +"Hey, laddie!" he called. "Come awa' in a meenit." When the sturdy boy +was inside and the door safely shut, he began in his most guileless and +persuasive tone: "Would you like to earn a shulling, Geordie?" + +"Ay, I would. Gie it to me i' pennies an' ha'pennies, Maister Traill. It +seems mair, an' mak's a braw jinglin' in a pocket." + +The price was paid and the tale told. The quick championship of the +boy was engaged for the gallant dog, and Geordie's eyes sparkled at the +prospect of dark adventure. Bobby was on the floor listening, ears and +eyes, brambly muzzle and feathered tail alert. He listened with his +whole, small, excited body, and hung on the answer to the momentous +question. + +"Is there no' a way to smuggle the bit dog into the kirkyard?" + +It appeared that nothing was easier, "aince ye ken hoo." Did Mr. Traill +know of the internal highway through the old Cunzie Neuk at the bottom +of the Row? One went up the stairs on the front to the low, timbered +gallery, then through a passage as black as "Bluidy" McKenzie's heart. +At the end of that, one came to a peep-hole of a window, set out on +wooden brackets, that hung right over the kirkyard wall. From that +window Bobby could be dropped on a certain noble vault, from which he +could jump to the ground. + +"Twa meenits' wark, stout hearts, sleekit footstaps, an' the fearsome +deed is done," declared twelve-year-old Geordie, whose sense of the +dramatic matched his daring. + +But when the deed was done, and the two stood innocently on the brightly +lighted approach to the bridge, Mr. Traill had his misgivings. A +well-respected business man and church-member, he felt uneasy to be at +the mercy of a laddie who might be boastful. + +"Geordie, if you tell onybody about this I'll have to give you a +licking." + +"I wullna tell," Geordie reassured him. "It's no' so respectable, an' +syne ma mither'd gie me anither lickin', an' they'd gie me twa more +awfu' aces, an' black marks for a month, at Heriot's." + + + + +V. + +Word had been left at all the inns and carting offices about both +markets for the tenant of Cauldbrae farm to call at Mr. Traill's +place for Bobby. The man appeared Wednesday afternoon, driving a big +Clydesdale horse to a stout farm cart. The low-ceiled dining-room +suddenly shrank about the big-boned, long legged hill man. The fact +embarrassed him, as did also a voice cultivated out of all proportion to +town houses, by shouting to dogs and shepherds on windy shoulders of the +Pentlands. + +"Hae ye got the dog wi' ye?" + +Mr. Train pointed to Bobby, deep in a blissful, after dinner nap under +the settle. + +The farmer breathed a sigh of relief, sat at a table, and ate a +frugal meal of bread and cheese. As roughly dressed as Auld Jock, in +a metal-buttoned greatcoat of hodden gray, a woolen bonnet, and the +shepherd's twofold plaid, he was a different species of human being +altogether. A long, lean, sinewy man of early middle age, he had a +smooth-shaven, bony jaw, far-seeing gray eyes under furzy brows, and a +shock of auburn hair. When he spoke, it was to give bits out of his own +experience. + +"Thae terriers are usefu' eneugh on an ordinar' fairm an' i' the toon to +keep awa' the vermin, but I wadna gie a twa-penny-bit for ane o' them on +a sheep-fairm. There's a wee lassie at Cauldbrae wha wants Bobby for a +pet. It wasna richt for Auld Jock to win 'im awa' frae the bairn." + +Mr. Traill's hand was lifted in rebuke. "Speak nae ill, man; Auld Jock's +dead." + +The farmer's ruddy face blanched and he dropped his knife. "He's no' +buried so sane?" + +"Ay, he's buried four days since in Greyfriars kirkyard, and Bobby has +slept every night on the auld man's grave." + +"I'll juist tak' a leuk at the grave, moil, gin ye'll hae an ee on the +dog." + +Mr. Traill cautioned him not to let the caretaker know that Bobby had +continued to sleep in the kirkyard, after having been put out twice. The +farmer was back in ten minutes, with a canny face that defied reading. +He lighted his short Dublin pipe and smoked it out before he spoke +again. + +"It's ower grand for a puir auld shepherd body to be buried i' +Greyfriars." + +"No' so grand as heaven, I'm thinking." Mr. Traill's response was dry. + +"Ay, an' we're a' coontin' on gangin' there; but it's a prood thing to +hae yer banes put awa' in Greyfriars, ance ye're through wi' 'em!" + +"Nae doubt the gude auld man would rather be alive on the Pentland braes +than dead in Greyfriars." + +"Ay," the farmer admitted. "He was fair fond o' the hills, an' no' +likin' the toon. An', moil, he was a wonder wi' the lambs. He'd gang wi' +a collie ower miles o' country in roarin' weather, an' he'd aye fetch +the lost sheep hame. The auld moil was nane so weel furnished i' the +heid, but bairnies and beasts were unco' fond o' 'im. It wasna his fau't +that Bobby was aye at his heels. The lassie wad 'a' been after'im, gin +'er mither had permeeted it." + +Mr. Traill asked him why he had let so valuable a man go, and the farmer +replied at once that he was getting old and could no longer do the +winter work. To any but a Scotchman brought up near the sheep country +this would have sounded hard, but Mr. Traill knew that the farmers on +the wild, tipped-up moors were themselves hard pressed to meet rent +and taxes. To keep a shepherd incapacitated by age and liable to lose a +flock in a snow-storm, was to invite ruin. And presently the man showed, +unwittingly, how sweet a kernel the heart may lie under the shell of +sordid necessity. + +"I didna ken the auld man was fair ill or he micht hae bided at the +fairm an' tak'n 'is ain time to dee at 'is ease." + +As Bobby unrolled and stretched to an awakening, the farmer got up, took +him unaware and thrust him into a covered basket. He had no intention of +letting the little creature give him the slip again. Bobby howled at the +indignity, and struggled and tore at the stout wickerwork. It went to +Mr. Traill's heart to hear him, and to see the gallant little dog so +defenseless. He talked to him through the latticed cover all the way +out to the cart, telling him Auld Jock meant for him to go home. At that +beloved name, Bobby dropped to the bottom of the basket and cried in +such a heartbroken way that tears stood in the landlord's eyes, and even +the farmer confessed to a sudden "cauld in 'is heid." + +"I'd gie 'im to ye, mon, gin it wasna that the bit lassie wad greet her +bonny een oot gin I didna fetch 'im hame. Nae boot the bit tyke wad 'a' +deed gin ye hadna fed 'im." + +"Eh, man, he'll no' bide with me, or I'd be bargaining for him. And +he'll no' be permitted to live in the kirkyard. I know naething in this +life more pitiful than a masterless, hameless dog." And then, to delay +the moment of parting with Bobby, who stopped crying and began to lick +his hand in frantic appeal through a hole in the basket, Mr. Traill +asked how Bobby came by his name. + +"It was a leddy o' the neeborhood o' Swanston. She cam' drivin' by +Cauldbrae i' her bit cart wi' shaggy Shetlands to it an' stapped at the +dairy for a drink o' buttermilk frae the kirn. Syne she saw the sonsie +puppy loupin' at Auld Jock's heels, bonny as a poodle, but mair knowin'. +The leddy gied me a poond note for 'im. I put 'im up on the seat, an' +she said that noo she had a smart Hieland groom to match 'er Hieland +steeds, an' she flicked the ponies wi' 'er whup. Syne the bit dog was on +the airth an' flyin' awa' doon the road like the deil was after 'im. An' +the leddy lauched an' lauched, an' went awa' wi'oot 'im. At the fut o' +the brae she was still lauchin', an' she ca'ed back: 'Gie 'im the name +o' Bobby, gude mon. He's left the plow-tail an's aff to Edinburgh to +mak' his fame an' fortune.' I didna ken what the leddy meant." + +"Man, she meant he was like Bobby Burns." + +Here was a literary flavor that gave added attraction to a man who sat +at the feet of the Scottish muses. The landlord sighed as he went back +to the doorway, and he stood there listening to the clatter of the cart +and rough-shod horse and to the mournful howling of the little dog, +until the sounds died away in Forest Road. + +Mr. Traill would have been surprised to know, perhaps, that the confines +of the city were scarcely passed before Bobby stopped protesting and +grieving and settled down patiently to more profitable work. A human +being thus kidnapped and carried away would have been quite helpless. +But Bobby fitted his mop of a black muzzle into the largest hole of his +wicker prison, and set his useful little nose to gathering news of his +whereabouts. + +If it should happen to a dog in this day to be taken from Ye Olde +Greyfriars Dining-Rooms and carried southward out of Edinburgh there +would be two miles or more of city and suburban streets to be traversed +before coming to the open country. But a half century or more ago +one could stand at the upper gate of Greyfriars kirkyard or Heriot's +Hospital grounds and look down a slope dotted with semi-rustic houses, +a village or two and water-mills, and then cultivated farms, all the way +to a stone-bridged burn and a toll-bar at the bottom of the valley. This +hillside was the ancient Burghmuir where King James of old gathered a +great host of Scots to march and fight and perish on Flodden Field. + +Bobby had not gone this way homeward before, and was puzzled by the +smell of prosperous little shops, and by the park-like odors from +college campuses to the east, and from the well-kept residence park +of George Square. But when the cart rattled across Lauriston Place he +picked up the familiar scents of milk and wool from the cattle and +sheep market, and then of cottage dooryards, of turned furrows and of +farmsteads. + +The earth wears ever a threefold garment of beauty. The human person +usually manages to miss nearly everything but the appearance of things. +A few of us are so fortunate as to have ears attuned to the harmonies +woven on the wind by trees and birds and water; but the tricky weft of +odors that lies closest of all, enfolding the very bosom of the earth, +escapes us. A little dog, traveling with his nose low, lives in another +stratum of the world, and experiences other pleasures than his master. +He has excitements that he does his best to share, and that send him +flying in pursuit of phantom clues. + +From the top of the Burghmuir it was easy going to Bobby. The snow had +gone off in a thaw, releasing a multitude of autumnal aromas. There was +a smell of birch and beech buds sealed up in gum, of berries clotted on +the rowan-trees, and of balsam and spice from plantations of Highland +firs and larches. The babbling water of the burn was scented with the +dead bracken of glens down which it foamed. Even the leafless hedges had +their woody odors, and stone dykes their musty smell of decaying mosses +and lichens. + +Bobby knew the pause at the toll-bar in the valley, and the mixed odors +of many passing horses and men, there. He knew the smells of poultry +and cheese at a dairy-farm; of hunting dogs and riding-leathers at a +sportsman's trysting inn, and of grist and polluted water at a mill. +And after passing the hilltop toll-bar of Fairmilehead, dipping across a +narrow valley and rounding the base of a sentinel peak, many tame odors +were left behind. At the buildings of the large, scattered farms there +were smells of sheep, and dogs and barn yards. But, for the most part, +after the road began to climb over a high shoulder of the range, there +was just one wild tang of heather and gorse and fern, tingling with salt +air from the German Ocean. + +When they reached Cauldbrae farm, high up on the slope, it was entirely +dark. Lights in the small, deep-set windows gave the outlines of a low, +steep-roofed, stone farm-house. Out of the darkness a little wind blown +figure of a lassie fled down the brae to meet the cart, and an eager +little voice, as clear as a hill-bird's piping, cried out: + +"Hae ye got ma ain Bobby, faither?" + +"Ay, lassie, I fetched 'im hame," the farmer roared back, in his big +voice. + +Then the cart was stopped for the wee maid to scramble up over a +wheel, and there were sweet little sounds of kissing and muffled little +cuddlings under the warm plaid. When these soft endearments had been +attended to there was time for another yearning. + +"May I haud wee Bobby, faither?" + +"Nae, lassie, a bonny bit bairnie couldna haud 'im in 'er sma' airms. +Bobby's a' for gangin' awa' to leev in a grand kirkyaird wi' Auld Jock." + +A little gasp, and a wee sob, and an awed question: "Is gude Auld Jock +deid, daddy?" + +Bobby heard it and answered with a mournful howl. The lassie snuggled +closer to the warm, beating heart, hid her eyes in the rough plaid, and +cried for Auld Jock and for the grieving little dog. + +"Niest to faither an' mither an' big brither Wattie I lo'e Auld Jock an' +Bobby." The bairnie's voice was smothered in the plaidie. Because it was +dark and none were by to see, the reticent Scot could overflow in tender +speech. His arm tightened around this one little ewe lamb of the human +fold on cold slope farm. He comforted the child by telling her how +they would mak' it up to Bobby, and how very soon a wee dog forgets the +keenest sorrow and is happy again. + +The sheep-dogs charged the cart with as deafening a clamor of welcome as +if a home-coming had never happened before, and raced the horse across +the level. The kitchen door flared open, a sudden beacon to shepherds +scattered afar on these upland billows of heath. In a moment the basket +was in the house, the door snecked, and Bobby released on the hearth. + +It was a beautiful, dark old kitchen, with a homely fire of peat that +glowed up to smoke-stained rafters. Soon it was full of shepherds, come +in to a supper of brose, cheese, milk and bannocks. Sheep-dogs sprawled +and dozed on the hearth, so that the gude wife complained of their being +underfoot. But she left them undisturbed and stepped over them, for, +tired as they were, they would have to go out again to drive the sheep +into the fold. + +Humiliated by being brought home a prisoner, and grieving for the +forsaken grave in Greyfriars, Bobby crept away to a corner bench, on +which Auld Jock had always sat in humble self-effacement. He lay down +under it, and the little four year-old lassie sat on the floor close +beside him, understanding, and sorry with him. Her rough brother Wattie +teased her about wanting her supper there on one plate with Bobby. + +"I wadna gang daft aboot a bit dog, Elsie." + +"Leave the bairn by 'er lane," commanded the farmer. The mither patted +the child's bright head, and wiped the tears from the bluebell eyes. And +there was a little sobbing confidence poured into a sympathetic ear. + +Bobby refused to eat at first, but by and by he thought better of it. A +little dog that has his life to live and his work to do must have fuel +to drive the throbbing engine of his tiny heart. So Bobby very sensibly +ate a good supper in the lassie's company and, grateful for that and for +her sympathy, submitted to her shy petting. But after the shepherds and +dogs were gone and the farmer had come in again from an overseeing look +about the place the little dog got up, trotted to the door, and lay down +by it. The lassie followed him. With two small, plump hands she pushed +Bobby's silver veil back, held his muzzle and looked into his sad, brown +eyes. + +"Oh, mither, mither, Bobby's greetin'," she cried. + +"Nae, bonny wee, a sma' dog canna greet." + +"Ay, he's greetin' sair!" A sudden, sweet little sound was dropped on +Bobby's head. + +"Ye shouldna kiss the bit dog, bairnie. He isna like a human body." + +"Ay, a wee kiss is gude for 'im. Faither, he greets so I canna thole +it." The child fled to comforting arms in the inglenook and cried +herself to sleep. The gude wife knitted, and the gude mon smoked by the +pleasant fire. The only sound in the room was the ticking of the wag at +the wa' clock, for burning peat makes no noise at all, only a pungent +whiff in the nostrils, the memory of which gives a Scotch laddie abroad +a fit of hamesickness. Bobby lay very still and watchful by the door. +The farmer served his astonishing news in dramatic bits. + +"Auld Jock's deid." Bobby stirred at that, and flattened out on the +floor. + +"Ay, the lassie told that, an' I wad hae kenned it by the dog. He is +greetin' by the ordinar'." + +"An' he's buried i' the kirkyaird o' auld Greyfriars." Ah, that fetched +her! The gude wife dropped her knitting and stared at him. + +"There's a gairdener, like at the country-hooses o' the gentry, leevin' +in a bit lodge by the gate. He has naethin' to do, ava, but lock the +gate at nicht, put the dogs oot, an' mak' the posies bloom i' the +simmer. Ay, it's a bonny place." + +"It's ower grand for Auld Jock." + +"Ye may weel say that. His bit grave isna so far frae the martyrs' +monument." When the grandeur of that had sunk in he went on to other +incredibilities. + +Presently he began to chuckle. "There's a bit notice on the gate +that nae dogs are admittet, but Bobby's sleepit on Auld Jock's grave +ane--twa--three--fower nichts, an' the gairdener doesna ken it, ava. +He's a canny beastie." + +"Ay, he is. Folk wull be comin' frae miles aroond juist to leuk at +thesperity bit. Ilka body aboot kens Auld Jock. It'll be maist +michty news to tell at the kirk on the Sabbath, that he's buried i' +Greyfriars." + +Through all this talk Bobby had lain quietly by the door, in the +expectation that it would be unlatched. Impatient of delay, he began to +whimper and to scratch on the panel. The lassie opened her blue eyes at +that, scrambled down, and ran to him. Instantly Bobby was up, tugging +at her short little gown and begging to be let out. When she clasped her +chubby arms around his neck and tried to comfort him he struggled free +and set up a dreadful howling. + +"Hoots, Bobby, stap yer havers!" shouted the farmer. + +"Eh, lassie, he'll deave us a'. We'll juist hae to put 'im i' the byre +wi' the coos for the nicht," cried the distracted mither. + +"I want Bobby i' the bed wi' me. I'll cuddle 'im an' lo'e 'im till he +staps greetin'." + +"Nae, bonny wee, he wullna stap." The farmer picked the child up on one +arm, gripped the dog under the other, and the gude wife went before with +a lantern, across the dark farmyard to the cow-barn. When the stout door +was unlatched there was a smell of warm animals, of milk, and cured hay, +and the sound of full, contented breathings that should have brought a +sense of companionship to a grieving little creature. + +"Bobby wullna be lanely here wi' the coos, bairnie, an' i' the morn ye +can tak' a bit rope an' haud it in a wee hand so he canna brak awa', +an' syne, in a day or twa, he'll be forgettin' Auld Jock. Ay, ye'll hae +grand times wi' the sonsie doggie, rinnin' an' loupin' on the braes." + +This argument was so convincing and so attractive that the little maid +dried her tears, kissed Bobby on the head again, and made a bed of +heather for him in a corner. But as they were leaving the byre fresh +doubts assailed her. + +"He'll gang awa' gin ye dinna tie 'im snug the nicht, faither." + +"Sic a fulish bairn! Wi' fower wa's aroond 'im, an' a roof to 'is heid, +an' a floor to 'is fut, hoo could a sma' dog mak' a way oot?" + +It was a foolish notion, bred of fond anxiety, and so, reassured, the +child went happily back to the house and to rosy sleep in her little +closet bed. + +Ah! here was a warm place in a cold world for Bobby. A soft-hearted +little mistress and merry playmate was here, generous food, and human +society of a kind that was very much to a little farm dog's liking. Here +was freedom--wide moors to delight his scampering legs, adventures with +rabbits, foxes, hares and moor-fowl, and great spaces where no one's +ears would be offended by his loudest, longest barking. Besides, Auld +Jock had said, with his last breath, "Gang--awa'--hame--laddie!" It is +not to be supposed Bobby had forgotten that, since he remembered +and obeyed every other order of that beloved voice. But there, +self-interest, love of liberty, and the instinct of obedience, even, +sank into the abysses of the little creature's mind. Up to the top rose +the overmastering necessity of guarding the bit of sacred earth that +covered his master. + +The byre was no sooner locked than Bobby began, in the pitch darkness, +to explore the walls. The single promise of escape that was offered was +an inch-wide crack under the door, where the flooring stopped short and +exposed a strip of earth. That would have appalled any but a desperate +little dog. The crack was so small as to admit but one paw, at first, +and the earth was packed as hard as wood by generations of trampling +cattle. + +There he began to dig. He came of a breed of dogs used by farmers and +hunters to dig small, burrowing animals out of holes, a breed whose +courage and persistence know no limit. He dug patiently, steadily, hour +after hour, enlarging the hole by inches. Now and then he had to stop +to rest. When he was able to use both forepaws he made encouraging +progress; but when he had to reach under the door, quite the length of +his stretched legs, and drag every bit of earth back into the byre, the +task must have been impossible to any little creature not urged by utter +misery. But Skye terriers have been known to labor with such fury that +they have perished of their own exertions. Bobby's nose sniffed liberty +long before he could squeeze his weasel-like body through the tunnel. +His back bruised and strained by the struggle through a hole too small, +he stood, trembling with exhaustion, in the windy dawn. + +An opening door, a barking sheep-dog, the shuffle of the moving flock, +were signs that the farm day was beginning, although all the stars had +not faded out of the sky. A little flying shadow, Bobby slipped out of +the cow-yard, past the farm-house, and literally tumbled down the brae. +From one level to another he dropped, several hundred feet in a very few +minutes, and from the clear air of the breezy hilltop to a nether world +that was buried fathoms deep in a sea-fog as white as milk. + +Hidden in a deep fold of the spreading skirts of the range, and some +distance from the road, lay a pool, made by damming a burn, and used, in +the shearing season, for washing sheep. Surrounded by brushy woods, and +very damp and dark, at other seasons it was deserted. Bobby found this +secluded place with his nose, curled up under a hazel thicket and fell +sound asleep. And while he slept, a nipping wind from the far, northern +Highlands swooped down on the mist and sent it flying out to sea. The +Lowlands cleared like magic. From the high point where Bobby lay the +road could be seen to fall, by short rises and long descents, all the +way to Edinburgh. From its crested ridge and flanking hills the city +trailed a dusky banner of smoke out over the fishing fleet in the Firth. + +A little dog cannot see such distant views. Bobby could only read and +follow the guide-posts of odors along the way. He had begun the ascent +to the toll-bar when he heard the clatter of a cart and the pounding +of hoofs behind him. He did not wait to learn if this was the Cauldbrae +farmer in pursuit. Certain knowledge on that point was only to be gained +at his peril. He sprang into the shelter of a stone wall, scrambled over +it, worked his way along it a short distance, and disappeared into a +brambly path that skirted a burn in a woody dell. + +Immediately the little dog was lost in an unexplored country. The narrow +glen was musical with springs, and the low growth was undercut with a +maze of rabbit runs, very distracting to a dog of a hunting breed. Bobby +knew, by much journeying with Auld Jock, that running water is a natural +highway. Sheep drift along the lowest level until they find an outlet +down some declivity, or up some foaming steep, to new pastures. + +But never before had Bobby found, above such a rustic brook, a many +chimneyed and gabled house of stone, set in a walled garden and swathed +in trees. Today, many would cross wide seas to look upon Swanston +cottage, in whose odorous old garden a whey-faced, wistful-eyed laddie +dreamed so many brave and laughing dreams. It was only a farm-house +then, fallen from a more romantic history, and it had no attraction +for Bobby. He merely sniffed at dead vines of clematis, sleeping briar +bushes, and very live, bright hedges of holly, rounded a corner of its +wall, and ran into a group of lusty children romping on the brae, below +the very prettiest, thatch roofed and hill-sheltered hamlet within many +a mile of Edinboro' town. The bairns were lunching from grimy, mittened +hands, gypsy fashion, life being far too short and playtime too brief +for formal meals. Seeing them eating, Bobby suddenly discovered that he +was hungry. He rose before a well-provided laddie and politely begged +for a share of his meal. + +Such an excited shouting of admiration and calling on mithers to come +and see the bonny wee dog was never before heard on Swanston village +green. Doors flew open and bareheaded women ran out. Then the babies had +to be brought, and the' old grandfaithers and grandmithers. Everybody +oh-ed and ah-ed and clapped hands, and doubled up with laughter, for, +a tempting bit held playfully just out of reach, Bobby rose, again and +again, jumped for it, and chased a teasing laddie. Then he bethought him +to roll over and over, and to go through other winsome little tricks, +as Auld Jock had taught him to do, to win the reward. All this had one +quite unexpected result. A shrewd-eyed woman pounced upon Bobby and +captured him. + +"He's no' an ordinar' dog. Some leddy has lost her pet. I'll juist shut +'im up, an' syne she'll pay a shullin' or twa to get 'im again." + +With a twist and a leap Bobby was gone. He scrambled straight up the +steep, thorn-clad wall of the glen, where no laddie could follow, and +was over the crest. It was a narrow escape, made by terrific effort. +His little heart pounding with exhaustion and alarm, he hid under a whin +bush to get his breath and strength. The sheltered dell was windless, +but here a stiff breeze blew. Suddenly shifting a point, the wind +brought to the little dog's nose a whiff of the acrid coal smoke of +Edinburgh three miles away. + +Straight as an arrow he ran across country, over roadway and wall, +plowed fields and rippling burns. He scrambled under hedges and dashed +across farmsteads and cottage gardens. As he neared the city the hour +bells aided him, for the Skye terrier is keen of hearing. It was growing +dark when he climbed up the last bank and gained Lauriston Place. There +he picked up the odors of milk and wool, and the damp smell of the +kirkyard. + +Now for something comforting to put into his famished little body. A +night and a day of exhausting work, of anxiety and grief, had used up +the last ounce of fuel. Bobby raced down Forest Road and turned the +slight angle into Greyfriars Place. The lamp lighter's progress toward +the bridge was marked by the double row of lamps that bloomed, one after +one, on the dusk. The little dog had come to the steps of Mr. Traill's +place, and lifted himself to scratch on the door, when the bugle began +to blow. He dropped with the first note and dashed to the kirkyard gate. + +None too soon! Mr. Brown was setting the little wicket gate inside, +against the wall. In the instant his back was turned, Bobby slipped +through. After nightfall, when the caretaker had made his rounds, he +came out from under the fallen table-tomb of Mistress Jean Grant. + +Lights appeared at the rear windows of the tenements, and families sat +at supper. It was snell weather again, the sky dark with threat of +snow, and the windows were all closed. But with a sharp bark beneath the +lowest of them Bobby could have made his presence and his wants known. +He watched the people eating, sitting wistfully about on his haunches +here and there, but remaining silent. By and by there were sounds of +crying babies, of crockery being washed, and the ringing of church +bells far and near. Then the lights were extinguished, and huge bulks of +shadow, of tenements and kirk, engulfed the kirkyard. + +When Bobby lay down on Auld Jock's grave, pellets of frozen snow were +falling and the air had hardened toward frost. + + + + +VI. + +Sleep alone goes far to revive a little dog, and fasting sharpens the +wits. Bobby was so tired that he slept soundly, but so hungry that he +woke early, and instantly alert to his situation. It was so very early +of a dark winter morning that not even the sparrows were out foraging in +the kirkyard for dry seeds. The drum and bugle had not been sounded from +the Castle when the milk and dustman's carts began to clatter over the +frozen streets. With the first hint of dawn stout fishwives, who had +tramped all the way in from the piers of Newhaven with heavily laden +creels on their heads, were lustily crying their "caller herrin'." +Soon fagot men began to call up the courts of tenements, where fuel was +bought by the scant bundle: "Are ye cauld?" + +Many a human waif in the tall buildings about the lower end of +Greyfriars kirkyard was cold, even in bed, but, in his thick underjacket +of fleece, Bobby was as warm as a plate of breakfast toast. With a +vigorous shaking he broke and scattered the crust of snow that burdened +his shaggy thatch. Then he lay down on the grave again, with his nose +on his paws. Urgent matters occupied the little dog's mind. To deal with +these affairs he had the long head of the canniest Scot, wide and high +between the ears, and a muzzle as determined as a little steel trap. +Small and forlorn as he was, courage, resource and purpose marked him. + +As soon as the door of the caretaker's lodge opened he would have to +creep under the fallen slab again. To lie in such a cramped position, +hour after hour, day after day, was enough to break the spirit of any +warm blooded creature that lives. It was an exquisite form of torture +not long to be endured. And to get his single meal a day at Mr. Traill's +place Bobby had to watch for the chance opening of the wicket to slip in +and out like a thief. The furtive life is not only perilous, it outrages +every feeling of an honest dog. It is hard for him to live at all +without the approval and the cordial consent of men. The human order +hostile, he quickly loses his self-respect and drops to the pariah +class. Already wee Bobby had the look of the neglected. His pretty coat +was dirty and unkempt. In his run across country, leaves, twigs and +burrs had become entangled in his long hair, and his legs and underparts +were caked with mire. + +Instinctively any dog struggles to escape the fate of the outcast. By +every art he possesses he ingratiates himself with men. One that has his +usefulness in the human scheme of things often is able to make his own +terms with life, to win the niche of his choice. Bobby's one talent that +was of practical value to society was his hunting instinct for every +small animal that burrows and prowls and takes toll of men's labor. +In Greyfriars kirkyard was work to be done that he could do. For quite +three centuries rats and mice had multiplied in this old sanctuary +garden from which cats were chased and dogs excluded. Every breeze that +blew carried challenges to Bobby's offended nose. Now, in the crisp gray +dawn, a big rat came out into the open and darted here and there over +the powdering of dry snow that frosted the kirkyard. + +A leap, as if released from a spring, and Bobby captured it. A snap of +his long muzzle, a jerk of his stoutly set head, and the victim hung +limp from his grip. And he followed another deeply seated instinct when +he carried the slain to Auld Jock's grave. Trophies of the chase were +always to be laid at the feet of the master. + +"Gude dog! eh, but ye're a bonny wee fechter!" Auld Jock had always said +after such an exploit; and Bobby had been petted and praised until he +nearly wagged his crested tail off with happiness and pride. Then he had +been given some choice tidbit of food as a reward for his prowess. The +farmer of Cauldbrae had on such occasions admitted that Bobby might be +of use about barn and dairy, and Mr. Traill had commended his capture of +prowlers in the dining-room. But Bobby was "ower young" and had not been +"put to the vermin" as a definite business in life. He caught a rat, +now and then, as he chased rabbits, merely as a diversion. When he +had caught this one he lay down again. But after a time he got up +deliberately and trotted down to the encircling line of old courtyarded +tombs. There were nooks and crannies between and behind these along the +wall into which the caretaker could not penetrate with sickle, rake and +spade, that formed sheltered runways for rodents. + +A long, low, weasel-like dog that could flatten himself on the ground, +Bobby squeezed between railings and pedestals, scrambled over fallen +fragments of sculptured urns, trumpets, angels' wings, altars, skull and +cross-bones, and Latin inscribed scrolls. He went on his stomach under +holly and laurel shrubs, burdocks, thistles, and tangled, dead vines. +Here and there he lay in such rubbish as motionless as the effigies +careen on marble biers. With the growing light grew the heap of the +slain on Auld Jock's grave. + +Having done his best, Bobby lay down again, worse in appearance than +before, but with a stouter heart. He did not stir, although the shadows +fled, the sepulchers stood up around the field of snow, and slabs and +shafts camped in ranks on the slope. Smoke began to curl up from high, +clustered chimney-pots; shutters were opened, and scantily clad women +had hurried errands on decaying gallery and reeling stairway. Suddenly +the Castle turrets were gilded with pale sunshine, and all the little +cells in the tall, old houses hummed and buzzed and clacked with life. +The University bell called scattered students to morning prayers. +Pinched and elfish faces of children appeared at the windows overlooking +the kirkyard. The sparrows had instant news of that, and the little +winged beggars fluttered up to the lintels of certain deep-set +casements, where ill-fed bairns scattered breakfasts of crumbs. + +Bobby watched all this without a movement. He shivered when the lodge +door was heard to open and shut and heavy footsteps crunched on the +gravel and snow around the church. "Juist fair silly" on his quaking +legs he stood up, head and tail drooped. But he held his ground bravely, +and when the caretaker sighted him he trotted to meet the man, lifted +himself on his hind legs, his short, shagged fore paws on his breast, +begging attention and indulgence. Then he sprawled across the great +boots, asking pardon for the liberty he was taking. At last, all in a +flash, he darted back to the grave, sniffed at it, and stood again, head +up, plumy tail crested, all excitement, as much as to say: + +"Come awa' ower, man, an' leuk at the brave sicht." + +If he could have barked, his meaning would have carried more +convincingly, but he "hauded 'is gab" loyally. And, alas, the caretaker +was not to be beguiled. Mr. Traill had told him Bobby had been sent +back to the hill farm, but here he was, "perseestent" little rascal, and +making some sort of bid for the man's favor. Mr. Brown took his pipe out +of his mouth in surprised exasperation, and glowered at the dog. + +"Gang awa' oot wi' ye!" + +But Bobby was back again coaxing undauntedly, abasing himself before +the angry man, insisting that he had something of interest to show. The +caretaker was literally badgered and cajoled into following him. One +glance at the formidable heap of the slain, and Mr. Brown dropped to a +seat on the slab. + +"Preserve us a'!" + +He stared from the little dog to his victims, turned them over with his +stout stick and counted them, and stared again. Bobby fixed his pleading +eyes on the man and stood at strained attention while fate hung in the +balance. + +"Guile wark! Guile wark! A braw doggie, an' an unco' fechter. Losh! but +ye're a deil o' a bit dog!" + +All this was said in a tone of astonished comment, so non-committal of +feeling that Bobby's tail began to twitch in the stress of his anxiety. +When the caretaker spoke again, after a long, puzzled frowning, it was +to express a very human bewilderment and irritation. + +"Noo, what am I gangin' to do wi' ye?" + +Ah, that was encouraging! A moment before, he had ordered Bobby out in +no uncertain tone. After another moment he referred the question to a +higher court. + +"Jeanie, woman, come awa' oot a meenit, wull ye?" + +A hasty pattering of carpet-slippered feet on the creaking snow, around +the kirk, and there was the neatest little apple-cheeked peasant woman +in Scotland, "snod" from her smooth, frosted hair, spotless linen mutch +and lawn kerchief, to her white, lamb's wool stockings. + +"Here's the bit dog I was tellin' ye aboot; an' see for yersel' what +he's done noo." + +"The wee beastie couldna do a' that! It's as muckle as his ain wecht in +fou' vermin!" she cried. + +"Ay, he did. Thae terriers are sperity, by the ordinar'. Ane o' them, +let into the corn exchange a murky nicht, killed saxty in ten meenits, +an' had to be dragged awa' by the tail. Noo, what I am gangin' to do wi' +the takin' bit I dinna ken." + +It is very certain that simple Mistress Jean Brown had never heard of +Mr. Dick's advice to Miss Betsy Trotwood on the occasion when young +David Copperfield presented himself, travel-stained and weary, before +his good aunt. But out of her experience of wholesome living she brought +forth the same wise opinion. + +"I'd gie him a gude washin' first of a', Jamie. He leuks like some +puir, gaen-aboot dog." And she drew her short, blue-stuff gown back from +Bobby's grateful attentions. + +Mr. Brown slapped his corduroy-breeked knee and nodded his grizzled +head. "Richt ye are. It's maist michty, noo, I wadna think o' that. When +I was leevin' as an under gairdener wi' a laird i' Argyleshire I was aye +aboot the kennels wi' the gillies. That was lang syne. The sma' terrier +dogs were aye washed i' claes tubs wi' warm water an' soap. Come awa', +Bobby." + +The caretaker got up stiffly, for such snell weather was apt to give +him twinges in his joints. In him a youthful enthusiasm for dogs had +suddenly revived. Besides, although he would have denied it, he was +relieved at having the main issue, as to what was to be done with this +four-footed trespasser, side-tracked for a time. Bobby followed him to +the lodge at an eager trot, and he dutifully hopped into the bath that +was set on the rear doorstep. Mr. Brown scrubbed him vigorously, +and Bobby splashed and swam and churned the soapy water to foam. He +scrambled out at once, when told to do so, and submitted to being dried +with a big, tow-linen towel. This was all a delightful novelty to Bobby. +Heretofore he had gone into any convenient tam or burn to swim, and then +dried himself by rolling on the heather and running before the wind. +Now he was bundled up ignominiously in an old flannel petticoat, carried +across a sanded kitchen floor and laid on a warm hearth. + +"Doon wi' ye!" was the gruff order. Bobby turned around and around on +the hearth, like some little wild dog making a bed in the jungle, before +he obeyed. He kept very still during the reading of a chapter and the +singing of a Psalm, as he had been taught to do at the farm by many +a reminder from Auld Jock's boot. And he kept away from the +breakfast-table, although the walls of his stomach were collapsed as +flat as the sides of an empty pocket. + +It was such a clean, shining little kitchen, with the scoured deal +table, chairs and cupboard, and the firelight from the grate winked +so on pewter mugs, copper kettle, willow-patterned plates and diamond +panes, that Bobby blinked too. Flowers bloomed in pots on the casement +sills, and a little brown skylark sang, fluttering as if it would soar, +in a gilded cage. After the morning meal Mr. Brown lighted his pipe +and put on his bonnet to go out again, when he bethought him that Bobby +might be needing something to eat. + +"What'll ye gie 'im, Jeanie? At the laird's, noo, the terriers were aye +fed wi' bits o' livers an' cheese an' moor fowls' eggs, an' sic-like, +fried." + +"Havers, Jamie, it's no' releegious to feed a dog better than puir +bairns. He'll do fair weel wi' table-scraps." + +She set down a plate with a spoonful of porridge on it, a cold potato, +some bread crusts, and the leavings of a broiled caller herrin'. It was +a generous breakfast for so small a dog, but Bobby had been without food +for quite forty hours, and had done an amazing amount of work in the +meantime. When he had eaten all of it, he was still hungry. As a polite +hint, he polished the empty plate with his pink tongue and looked up +expectantly; but the best-intentioned people, if they have had little to +do with dogs, cannot read such signs. + +"Ye needna lick the posies aff," the wifie said, good humoredly, as she +picked the plate up to wash it. She thought to put down a tin basin of +water. Bobby lapped a' it so eagerly, yet so daintily, that she added: +"He's a weel-broucht-up tyke, Jamie." + +"He is so. Noo, we'll see hoo weel he can leuk." In a shamefaced way he +fetched from a tool-box a long-forgotten, strong little currycomb, such +as is used on shaggy Shetland ponies. With that he proceeded to give +Bobby such a grooming as he had never had before. It was a painful +operation, for his thatch was a stubborn mat of crisp waves and knotty +tangles to his plumy tail and down to his feathered toes. He braced +himself and took the punishment without a whimper, and when it was done +he stood cascaded with dark-silver ripples nearly to the floor. + +"The bonny wee!" cried Mistress Jeanie. "I canna tak' ma twa een aff o' +'im." + +"Ay, he's bonny by the ordinar'. It wad be grand, noo, gin the +meenister'd fancy 'im an' tak' 'im into the manse." + +The wifie considered this ruefully. "Jamie, I was wishin' ye didna hae +to--" + +But what she wished he did not have to do, Mr. Brown did not stop to +hear. He suddenly clapped his bonnet on his head and went out. He had +an urgent errand on High Street, to buy grass and flower seeds and tools +that would certainly be needed in April. It took him an hour or more +of shrewd looking about for the best bargains, in a swarm of little +barnacle and cellar shops, to spend a few of the kirk's shillings. When +he found himself, to his disgust, looking at a nail studded collar for +a little dog he called himself a "doited auld fule," and tramped back +across the bridge. + +At the kirkyard gate he stopped and read the notice through twice: "No +dogs permitted." That was as plain as "Thou shalt not." To the pious +caretaker and trained servant it was the eleventh commandment. He shook +his head, sighed, and went in to dinner. Bobby was not in the house, and +the master of it avoided inquiring for him. He also avoided the +wifie's wistful eye, and he busied himself inside the two kirks all the +afternoon. + +Because he was in the kirks, and the beautiful memorial windows of +stained glass were not for the purpose of looking out, he did not see a +dramatic incident that occurred in the kirkyard after three o'clock in +the afternoon. The prelude to it really began with the report of the +timegun at one. Bobby had insisted upon being let out of the lodge +kitchen, and had spent the morning near Auld Jock's grave and in nosing +about neighboring slabs and thorn bushes. When the time-gun boomed he +trotted to the gate quite openly and waited there inside the wicket. + +In such nipping weather there were no visitors to the kirkyard and the +gate was not opened. The music bells ran the gamut of old Scotch airs +and ceased, while he sat there and waited patiently. Once a man stopped +to look at the little dog, and Bobby promptly jumped on the wicket, +plainly begging to have it unlatched. But the passer-by decided that +some lady had left her pet behind, and would return for him. So he +patted the attractive little Highlander on the head and went on about +his business. + +Discouraged by the unpromising outlook for dinner that day, Bobby went +slowly back to the grave. Twice afterward he made hopeful pilgrimages +to the gate. For diversion he fell noiselessly upon a prowling cat and +chased it out of the kirkyard. At last he sat upon the table-tomb. He +had escaped notice from the tenements all the morning because the view +from most of the windows was blocked by washings, hung out and dripping, +then freezing and clapping against the old tombs. It was half-past three +o'clock when a tiny, wizened face popped out of one of the rude little +windows in the decayed Cunzie Neuk at the bottom of Candlemakers Row. +Crippled Tammy Barr called out in shrill excitement, + +"Ailie! O-o-oh, Ailie Lindsey, there's the wee doggie!" + +"Whaur?" The lassie's elfin face looked out from a low, rear window of +the Candlemakers' Guildhall at the top of the Row. + +"On the stane by the kirk wa'." + +"I see 'im noo. Isna he bonny? I wish Bobby could bide i' the kirkyaird, +but they wadna let 'im. Tammy, gin ye tak' 'im up to Maister Traill, +he'll gie ye the shullin'!" + +"I couldna tak' 'im by ma lane," was the pathetic confession. "Wad ye +gang wi' me, Ailie? Ye could drap ower an' catch 'im, an' I could come +by the gate. Faither made me some grand crutches frae an' auld chair +back." + +Tears suddenly drowned the lassie's blue eyes and ran down her pinched +little cheeks. "Nae, I couldna gang. I haena ony shoon to ma feet." + +"It's no' so cauld. Gin I had twa guile feet I could gang the bit way +wi'oot shoon." + +"I ken it isna so cauld," Ailie admitted, "but for a lassie it's no' +respectable to gang to a grand place barefeeted." + +That was undeniable, and the eager children fell silent and tearful. But +oh, necessity is the mother of makeshifts among the poor! Suddenly Ailie +cried: "Bide a meenit, Tammy," and vanished. Presently she was back, +with the difficulty overcome. "Grannie says I can wear her shoon. She +doesna wear 'em i' the hoose, ava." + +"I'll gie ye a saxpence, Ailie," offered Tammy. + +The sordid bargain shocked no feeling of these tenement bairns +nor marred their pleasure in the adventure. Presently there was a +tap-tap-tapping of crutches on the heavy gallery that fronted the Cunzie +Neuk, and on the stairs that descended from it to the steep and curving +row. The lassie draped a fragment of an old plaid deftly over her thinly +clad shoulders, climbed through the window, to the pediment of the +classic tomb that blocked it, and dropped into the kirkyard. To her +surprise Bobby was there at her feet, frantically wagging his tail, +and he raced her to the gate. She caught him on the steps of the dining +room, and held his wriggling little body fast until Tammy came up. + +It was a tumultuous little group that burst in upon the astonished +landlord: barking fluff of an excited dog, flying lassie in clattering +big shoes, and wee, tapping Tammy. They literally fell upon him when he +was engaged in counting out his money. + +"Whaur did you find him?" asked Mr. Traill in bewilderment. + +Six-year-old Ailie slipped a shy finger into her mouth, and looked to +the very much more mature five-year old crippled laddie to answer, + +"He was i' the kirkyaird." + +"Sittin' upon a stane by 'is ainsel'," added Ailie. + +"An' no' hidin', ava. It was juist like he was leevin' there." + +"An' syne, when I drapped oot o' the window he louped at me so bonny, +an' I couldna keep up wi' 'im to the gate." + +Wonder of wonders! It was plain that Bobby had made his way back from +the hill farm and, from his appearance and manner, as well as from this +account, it was equally clear that some happy change in his fortunes +had taken place. He sat up on his haunches listening with interest and +lolling his tongue! And that was a thing the bereft little dog had not +done since his master died. In the first pause in the talk he rose and +begged for his dinner. + +"Noo, what am I to pay? It took ane, twa, three o' ye to fetch ane sma' +dog. A saxpence for the laddie, a saxpence for the lassie, an' a bit +meal for Bobby." + +While he was putting the plate down under the settle Mr. Traill heard +an amazed whisper "He's gien the doggie a chuckie bane." The landlord +switched the plate from under Bobby's protesting little muzzle and +turned to catch the hungry look on the faces of the children. Chicken, +indeed, for a little dog, before these ill-fed bairns! Mr. Traill had a +brilliant thought. + +"Preserve me! I didna think to eat ma ain dinner. I hae so muckle to eat +I canna eat it by ma lane." + +The idea of having too much to eat was so preposterously funny that +Tammy doubled up with laughter and nearly tumbled over his crutches. Mr. +Traill set him upright again. + +"Did ye ever gang on a picnic, bairnies?" And what was a picnic? Tammy +ventured the opinion that it might be some kind of a cart for lame +laddies to ride in. + +"A picnic is when ye gang gypsying in the summer," Mr. Traill explained. +"Ye walk to a bonny green brae, an' sit doon under a hawthorntree a' +covered wi' posies, by a babblin' burn, an' ye eat oot o' yer ain hands. +An' syne ye hear a throstle or a redbreast sing an' a saucy blackbird +whustle." + +"Could ye tak' a dog?" asked Tammy. + +"Ye could that, mannie. It's no' a picnic wi'oot a sonsie doggie to rin +on the brae wi' ye." + +"Oh!" Ailie's blue eyes slowly widened in her pallid little face. "But +ye couldna hae a picnic i' the snawy weather." + +"Ay, ye could. It's the bonniest of a' when ye're no' expectin' it. +I aye keep a picnic hidden i' the ingleneuk aboon." He suddenly swung +Tammy up on his shoulder, and calling, gaily, "Come awa'," went out +the door, through another beside it, and up a flight of stairs to the +dining-room above. A fire burned there in the grate, the tables were +covered with linen, and there were blooming flowers in pots in the front +windows. Patrons from the University, and the well-to-do streets and +squares to the south and east, made of this upper room a sort of club in +the evenings. At four o'clock in the afternoon there were no guests. + +"Noo," said Mr. Traill, when his overcome little guests were seated at +a table in the inglenook. "A picnic is whaur ye hae onything ye fancy +to eat; gude things ye wullna be haein' ilka day, ye mind." He rang a +call-bell, and a grinning waiter laddie popped up so quickly the lassie +caught her breath. + +"Eneugh broo for aince," said Tammy. + +"Porridge that isna burned," suggested Ailie. Such pitiful poverty of +the imagination! + +"Nae, it's bread, an' butter, an' strawberry jam, an' tea wi' cream an' +sugar, an' cauld chuckie at a snawy picnic," announced Mr. Traill. And +there it was, served very quickly and silently, after some manner of +magic. Bobby had to stand on the fourth chair to eat his dinner, and +when he had despatched it he sat up and viewed the little party with the +liveliest interest and happiness. + +"Tammy," Ailie said, when her shyness had worn off, "it's like the grand +tales ye mak' up i' yer heid." + +"Preserve me! Does the wee mannie mak' up stories?" + +"It's juist fulish things, aboot haein' mair to eat, an' a sonsie doggie +to play wi', an' twa gude legs to tak' me aboot. I think 'em oot at +nicht when I canna sleep." + +"Eh, laddie, do ye noo?" Mr. Traill suddenly had a terrible "cauld in +'is heid," that made his eyes water. "Hoo auld are ye?" + +"Five, gangin' on sax." + +"Losh! I thoucht ye war fifty, gangin' on saxty." Laughter saved the day +from overmoist emotions. And presently Mr. Traill was able to say in a +business-like tone: + +"We'll hae to tak' ye to the infirmary. An' if they canna mak' yer legs +ower ye'll get a pair o' braw crutches that are the niest thing to gude +legs. An' syne we'll see if there's no' a place in Heriot's for a sma' +laddie that mak's up bonny tales o' his ain in the murky auld Cunzie +Neuk." + +Now the gay little feast was eaten, and early dark was coming on. If Mr. +Traill had entertained the hope that Bobby had recovered from his grief +and might remain with him, he was disappointed. The little dog began to +be restless. He ran to the door and back; he begged, and he scratched +on the panel. And then he yelped! As soon as the door was opened he shot +out of it, tumbled down the stairway and waited at the foot impatiently +for the lower door to be unlatched. Ailie's thin, swift legs were left +behind when Bobby dashed to the kirkyard. + +Tammy followed at a surprising pace on his rude crutches, and Mr. Traill +brought up the rear. If the children could not smuggle the frantic +little dog inside, the landlord meant to put him over the wicket and, if +necessary, to have it out with the caretaker, and then to go before the +kirk minister and officers with his plea. He was still concealed by the +buildings, from the alcoved gate, when he heard Mr. Brown's gruff voice +taking the frightened bairns to task. + +"Gie me the dog; an' dinna ye tak' him oot ony mair wi'oot spierin' me." + +The children fled. Peeping around the angle of the Book Hunter's Stall, +Mr. Traill saw the caretaker lift Bobby over the wicket to his arms, and +start with him toward the lodge. He was perishing with curiosity about +this astonishing change of front on the part of Mr. Brown, but it was a +delicate situation in which it seemed best not to meddle. He went slowly +back to the restaurant, begrudging Bobby to the luckier caretaker. + +His envy was premature. Mr. Brown set Bobby inside the lodge kitchen and +announced briefly to his wife: "The bit dog wull sleep i' the hoose +the nicht." And he went about some business at the upper end of the +kirkyard. When he came in an hour later Bobby was gone. + +"I couldna keep 'im in, Jamie. He didna blatter, but he greeted so sair +to be let oot, an syne he scratched a' the paint aff the door." + +Mr. Brown glowered at her in exasperation. "Woman, they'll hae me up +afore kirk sessions for brakin' the rules, an' syne they'll turn us a' +oot i' the cauld warld togither." + +He slammed the door and stormed angrily around the kirk. It was still +light enough to see the little creature on the snowy mound and, indeed, +Bobby got up and wagged his tail in friendly greeting. At that all the +bluster went out of the man, and he began to argue the matter with the +dog. + +"Come awa', Bobby. Ye canna be leevin' i' the kirkyaird." + +Bobby was of a different opinion. He turned around and around, +thoughtfully, several times, then sat up on the grave. Entirely willing +to spend a social hour with his new friend, he fixed his eyes hospitably +upon him. Mr. Brown dropped to the slab, lighted his pipe, and smoked +for a time, to compose his agitated mind. By and by he got up briskly +and stooped to lift the little dog. At that Bobby dug his claws in the +clods and resisted with all his muscular body and determined mind. He +clung to the grave so desperately, and looked up so piteously, that the +caretaker surrendered. And there was snod Mistress Jeanie, forgetting +her spotless gown and kneeling in the snow. + +"Puir Bobby, puir wee Bobby!" she cried, and her tears fell on the +little tousled head. The caretaker strode abruptly away and waited for +the wifie in the shadow of the auld kirk. Bobby lifted his muzzle and +licked the caressing hand. Then he curled himself up comfortably on the +mound and went to sleep. + + + + +VIII. + +In no part of Edinburgh did summer come up earlier, or with more lavish +bloom, than in old Greyfriars kirkyard. Sheltered on the north and east, +it was open to the moist breezes of the southwest, and during all the +lengthening afternoons the sun lay down its slope and warmed the +rear windows of the overlooking tenements. Before the end of May the +caretaker had much ado to keep the growth in order. Vines threatened +to engulf the circling street of sepulchers in greenery and bloom, and +grass to encroach on the flower plots. + +A half century ago there were no rotary lawnmowers to cut off clover +heads; and, if there had been, one could not have been used on these +dropping terraces, so populous with slabs and so closely set with turfed +mounds and oblongs of early flowering annuals and bedding plants. Mr. +Brown had to get down on his hands and knees, with gardener's shears, +to clip the turfed borders and banks, and take a sickle to the hummocks. +Thus he could dig out a root of dandelion with the trowel kept ever in +his belt, consider the spreading crocuses and valley lilies, whether +to spare them, give a country violet its blossoming time, and leave a +screening burdock undisturbed until fledglings were out of their nests +in the shrubbery. + +Mistress Jeanie often brought out a little old milking stool on balmy +mornings, and sat with knitting or mending in one of the narrow aisles, +to advise her gude-mon in small matters. Bobby trotted quietly about, +sniffing at everything with the liveliest interest, head on this side or +that, alertly. His business, learned in his first summer in Greyfriars, +was to guard the nests of foolish skylarks, song-thrushes, redbreasts +and wrens, that built low in lilac, laburnum, and flowering currant +bushes, in crannies of wall and vault, and on the ground. It cannot +but be a pleasant thing to be a wee young dog, full of life and good +intentions, and to play one's dramatic part in making an old garden of +souls tuneful with bird song. A cry of alarm from parent or nestling +was answered instantly by the tiny, tousled policeman, and there was a +prowler the less, or a skulking cat was sent flying over tomb and wall. + +His duty done, without noise or waste of energy, Bobby returned to lie +in the sun on Auld Jock's grave. Over this beloved mound a coverlet of +rustic turf had been spread as soon as the frost was out of the ground, +and a bonny briar bush planted at the head. Then it bore nature's own +tribute of flowers, for violets, buttercups, daisies and clover blossoms +opened there and, later, a spike or so of wild foxglove and a knot of +heather. Robin redbreasts and wrens foraged around Bobby, unafraid; +swallows swooped down from their mud villages, under the dizzy dormers +and gables, to flush the flies on his muzzle, and whole flocks of little +blue titmice fluttered just overhead, in their rovings from holly and +laurel to newly tasseled firs and yew trees. + +The click of the wicket gate was another sort of alarm altogether. At +that the little dog slipped under the fallen table-tomb and lay hidden +there until any strange visitor had taken himself away. Except for two +more forced returns and ingenious escapes from the sheepfarm on the +Pentlands, Bobby had lived in the kirkyard undisturbed for six months. +The caretaker had neither the heart to put him out nor the courage to +face the minister and the kirk officers with a plea for him to remain. +The little dog's presence there was known, apparently, only to Mr. +Traill, to a few of the tenement dwellers, and to the Heriot boys. If +his life was clandestine in a way, it was as regular of hour and duty +and as well ordered as that of the garrison in the Castle. + +When the time-gun boomed, Bobby was let out for his midday meal at Mr. +Traill's and for a noisy run about the neighborhood to exercise his +lungs and legs. On Wednesdays he haunted the Grassmarket, sniffing at +horses, carts and mired boots. Edinburgh had so many shaggy little +Skye and Scotch terriers that one more could go about unremarked. Bobby +returned to the kirkyard at his own good pleasure. In the evening he was +given a supper of porridge and broo, or milk, at the kitchen door of the +lodge, and the nights he spent on Auld Jock's grave. The morning drum +and bugle woke him to the chase, and all his other hours were spent in +close attendance on the labors of the caretaker. The click of the wicket +gate was the signal for instant disappearance. + +A scramble up the wall from Heriot's Hospital grounds, or the patter +of bare feet on the gravel, however, was notice to come out and greet +a friend. Bobby was host to the disinherited children of the tenements. +Now, at the tap-tap-tapping of Tammy Barr's crutches, he scampered up +the slope, and he suited his pace to the crippled boy's in coming down +again. Tammy chose a heap of cut grass on which to sit enthroned and +play king, a grand new crutch for a scepter, and Bobby for a courtier. +At command, the little dog rolled over and over, begged, and walked on +his hind legs. He even permitted a pair of thin little arms to come near +strangling him, in an excess of affection. Then he wagged his tail and +lolled his tongue to show that he was friendly, and trotted away about +his business. Tammy took an oat-cake from his pocket to nibble, and +began a conversation with Mistress Jeanie. + +"I broucht a picnic wi' me." + +"Did ye, noo? An' hoo did ye ken aboot picnics, laddie?" + +"Maister Traill was tellin' Ailie an' me. There's ilka thing to mak' +a picnic i' the kirkyaird. They couldna mak' my legs gude i' the +infairmary, but I'm gangin' to Heriot's. I'll juist hae to airn ma +leevin' wi' ma heid, an' no' remember aboot ma legs, ava. Is he no' a +bonny doggie?" + +"Ay, he's bonny. An' ye're a braw laddie no' to fash yersel' aboot what +canna be helped." + +The wifie took his ragged jacket and mended it, dropped a tear in an +impossible hole, and a ha'penny in the one good pocket. And by and by +the pale laddie slept there among the bright graves, in the sun. After +another false alarm from the gate she asked her gude-mon, as she had +asked many times before: + +"What'll ye do, Jamie, when the meenister kens aboot Bobby, an' ca's ye +up afore kirk sessions for brakin' the rule?" + +"We wullna cross the brig till we come to the burn, woman," he +invariably answered, with assumed unconcern. Well he knew that the +bridge might be down and the stream in flood when he came to it. But +Mr. Traill was a member of Greyfriars auld kirk, too, and a companion in +guilt, and Mr. Brown relied not a little on the landlord's fertile mind +and daring tongue. And he relied on useful, well-behaving Bobby to plead +his own cause. + +"There's nae denyin' the doggie is takin' in 'is ways. He's had twa +gude hames fair thrown at 'is heid, but the sperity bit keeps to 'is ain +mind. An' syne he's usefu', an' hauds 'is gab by the ordinar'." He often +reinforced his inclination with some such argument. + +With all their caution, discovery was always imminent. The kirkyard was +long and narrow and on rising levels, and it was cut almost across by +the low mass of the two kirks, so that many things might be going on at +one end that could not be seen from the other. On this Saturday noon, +when the Heriot boys were let out for the half-holiday, Mr. Brown +kept an eye on them until those who lived outside had dispersed. When +Mistress Jeanie tucked her knitting-needles in her belt, and went up +to the lodge to put the dinner over the fire, the caretaker went down +toward Candlemakers Row to trim the grass about the martyrs' monument. +Bobby dutifully trotted at his heels. Almost immediately a half-dozen +laddies, led by Geordie Ross and Sandy McGregor, scaled the wall from +Heriot's grounds and stepped down into the kirkyard, that lay piled +within nearly to the top. They had a perfectly legitimate errand there, +but no mission is to be approached directly by romantic boyhood. + +"Hist!" was the warning, and the innocent invaders, feeling delightfully +lawless, stole over and stormed the marble castle, where "Bluidy" +McKenzie slept uneasily against judgment day. Light-hearted lads can do +daring deeds on a sunny day that would freeze their blood on a dark and +stormy night. So now Geordie climbed nonchalantly to a seat over the old +persecutor, crossed his stout, bare legs, filled an imaginary pipe, and +rattled the three farthings in his pocket. + +"I'm 'Jinglin' Geordie' Heriot," he announced. + +"I'll show ye hoo a prood goldsmith ance smoked wi' a'." Then, jauntily: +"Sandy, gie a crack to 'Bluidy' McKenzie's door an' daur the auld hornie +to come oot." + +The deed was done amid breathless apprehensions, but nothing disturbed +the silence of the May noon except the lark that sprang at their feet +and soared singing into the blue. It was Sandy who presently whistled +like a blackbird to attract the attention of Bobby. + +There were no blackbirds in the kirkyard, and Bobby understood the +signal. He scampered up at once and dashed around the kirk, all +excitement, for he had had many adventures with the Heriot boys at +skating and hockey on Duddingston Lock in the winter, and tramps over +the country and out to Leith harbor in the spring. The laddies prowled +along the upper wall of the kirks, opened and shut the wicket, to give +the caretaker the idea that they had come in decorously by the gate, and +went down to ask him, with due respect and humility, if they could take +Bobby out for the afternoon. They were going to mark the places where +wild flowers might be had, to decorate "Jinglin' Geordie's" portrait, +statue and tomb at the school on Founder's Day. Mr. Brown considered +them with a glower that made the boys nudge each other knowingly. +"Saturday isna the day for 'im to be gaen aboot. He aye has a washin' +an' a groomin' to mak' 'im fit for the Sabbath. An', by the leuk o' ye, +ye'd be nane the waur for soap an' water yer ainsel's." + +"We'll gie 'im 'is washin' an' combin' the nicht," they volunteered, +eagerly. + +"Weel, noo, he wullna hae 'is dinner till the time-gun." + +Neither would they. At that, annoyed by their persistence, Mr. Brown +denied authority. + +"Ye ken weel he isna ma dog. Ye'll hae to gang up an' spier Maister +Traill. He's fair daft aboot the gude-for-naethin' tyke." + +This was understood as permission. As the boys ran up to the gate, with +Bobby at their heels, Mr. Brown called after them: "Ye fetch 'im hame +wi' the sunset bugle, an' gin ye teach 'im ony o' yer unmannerly ways +I'll tak' a stick to yer breeks." + +When they returned to Mr. Traill's place at two o'clock the landlord +stood in shirt-sleeves and apron in the open doorway with Bobby, the +little dog gripping a mutton shank in his mouth. + +"Bobby must tak' his bone down first and hide it awa'. The Sabbath in +a kirkyard is a dull day for a wee dog, so he aye gets a catechism of a +bone to mumble over." + +'The landlord sighed in open envy when the laddies and the little dog +tumbled down the Row to the Grassmarket on their gypsying. His eyes +sought out the glimpse of green country on the dome of Arthur's Seat, +that loomed beyond the University towers to the east. There are times +when the heart of a boy goes ill with the sordid duties of the man. + +Straight down the length of the empty market the laddies ran, through +the crooked, fascinating haunt of horses and jockeys in the street +of King's Stables, then northward along the fronts of quaint little +handicrafts shops that skirted Castle Crag. By turning westward into +Queensferry Street a very few minutes would have brought them to a bit +of buried country. But every expedition of Edinburgh lads of spirit of +that day was properly begun with challenges to scale Castle Rock from +the valley park of Princes Street Gardens on the north. + +"I daur ye to gang up!" was all that was necessary to set any group of +youngsters to scaling the precipice. By every tree and ledge, by every +cranny and point of rock, stoutly rooted hazel and thorn bush and clump +of gorse, they climbed. These laddies went up a quarter or a third +of the way to the grim ramparts and came cautiously down again. Bobby +scrambled higher, tumbled back more recklessly and fell, head over heels +and upside down, on the daisied turf. He righted himself at once, +and yelped in sharp protest. Then he sniffed and busied himself with +pretenses, in the elaborate unconcern with which a little dog denies +anything discreditable. There were legends of daring youth having +climbed this war-like cliff and laying hands on the fortress wall, but +Geordie expressed a popular feeling in declaring these tales "a' lees." + +"No' ony laddie could gang a' the way up an' come doon wi' 'is heid +no' broken. Bobby couldna do it, an' he's mair like a wild fox than an +ordinar' dog. Noo, we're the Light Brigade at Balaklava. Chairge!" + +The Crimean War was then a recent event. Heroes of Sebastopol answered +the summons of drum and bugle in the Castle and fired the hearts of +Edinburgh youth. Cannon all around them, and "theirs not to reason why," +this little band stormed out Queensferry Street and went down, hand +under hand, into the fairy underworld of Leith Water. + +All its short way down from the Pentlands to the sea, the Water of Leith +was then a foaming little river of mills, twisting at the bottom of a +gorge. One cliff-like wall or the other lay to the sun all day, so that +the way was lined with a profusion of every wild thing that turns green +and blooms in the Lowlands of Scotland. And it was filled to the brim +with bird song and water babble. + +A crowd of laddies had only to go inland up this gorge to find wild and +tame bloom enough to bury "Jinglin' Geordie" all over again every year. +But adventure was to be had in greater variety by dropping seaward with +the bickering brown water. These waded along the shallow margin, walked +on shelving sands of gold, and, where the channel was filled, they clung +to the rocks and picked their way along dripping ledges. Bobby missed no +chance to swim. If he could scramble over rough ground like a squirrel +or a fox, he could swim like an otter. Swept over the low dam at Dean +village, where a cup-like valley was formed, he tumbled over and over in +the spray and was all but drowned. As soon as he got his breath and his +bearings he struck out frantically for the bank, shook the foam from +his eyes and ears, and barked indignantly at the saucy fall. The white +miller in the doorway of the gray-stone, red-roofed mill laughed, and +anxious children ran down from a knot of storybook cottages and gay +dooryards. "I'll gie ye ten shullin's for the sperity bit dog," the +miller shouted, above the clatter of the' wheel and the swish of the +dam. + +"He isna oor ain dog," Geordie called back. "But he wullna droon. He's +got a gude heid to 'im, an' wullna be sic a bittie fule anither time." + +Indeed he had a good head on him! Bobby never needed a second lesson. At +Silver Mills and Canon Mills he came out and trotted warily around the +dam. Where the gorge widened to a valley toward the sea they all climbed +up to Leith Walk, that ran to the harbor, and came out to a wonder-world +of water-craft anchored in the Firth. Each boy picked out his ship to go +adventuring. + +"I'm gangin' to Norway!" + +Geordie was scornful. "Hoots, ye tame pussies. Ye're fleid o' gettin' +yer feet wat. I'll be rinnin' aff to be a pirate. Come awa' doon." + +They followed the leader along shore and boarded an abandoned and +evil-smelling fishingboat. There they ran up a ragged jacket for a black +flag. But sailing a stranded craft palled presently. + +"Nae, I'm gangin' to be a Crusoe. Preserve me! If there's no' a futprint +i' the sand! Bobby's ma sma' man Friday." + +Away they ran southward to find a castaway's shelter in a hollow on the +golf links. Soon this was transformed into a wrecker's den, and +then into the hiding-place of a harried Covenanter fleeing religious +persecution. Daring things to do swarmed in upon their minds, for +Edinburgh laddies live in a city of romantic history, of soldiers, of +near-by mountains, and of sea rovings. No adventure served them five +minutes, and Bobby was in every one. Ah, lucky Bobby, to have such gay +playfellows on a sunny afternoon and under foot the open country! + +And fortunate laddies to have such a merry rascal of a wee dog with +them! To the mile they ran, Bobby went five, scampering in wide circles +and barking and louping at butterflies and whaups. He made a detour to +the right to yelp saucily at the red-coated sentry who paced before the +Gothic gateway to the deserted Palace of Holyrood, and as far to the +left to harry the hoofs of a regiment of cavalry drilling before the +barracks at Piershill. He raced on ahead and swam out to scatter the +fleet of swan sailing or the blue mirror of Duddingston Loch. + +The tired boys lay blissfully up the sunny side of Arthur's Seat in +a thicket of hazel while Geordie carried out a daring plan for which +privacy was needed. Bobby was solemnly arraigned before a court on the +charge of being a seditious Covenanting meenister, and was required to +take the oath of loyalty to English King and Church on pain of being +hanged in the Grassmarket. The oath had been duly written out on paper +and greased with mutton tallow to make it more palatable. Bobby licked +the fat off with relish. Then he took the paper between his sharp little +teeth and merrily tore it to shreds. And, having finished it, he barked +cheerful defiance at the court. The lads came near rolling down the +slope with laughter, and they gave three cheers for the little hero. +Sandy remarked, "Ye wadna think, noo, sic a sonsie doggie wad be leevin' +i' the murky auld kirkyaird." + +Bobby had learned the lay of the tipped-up and scooped-out and jumbled +auld toon, and he led the way homeward along the southern outskirts of +the city. He turned up Nicolson Street, that ran northward, past the +University and the old infirmary. To get into Greyfriars Place from the +east at that time one had to descend to the Cowgate and climb out again. +Bobby darted down the first of the narrow wynds. + +Suddenly he turned 'round and 'round in bewilderment, then shot through +a sculptured door way, into a well-like court, and up a flight of stone +stairs. The slamming of a shutter overhead shocked him to a standstill +on the landing and sent him dropping slowly down again. What memories +surged back to his little brain, what grief gripped his heart, as he +stood trembling on a certain spot in the pavement where once a long deal +box had rested! + +"What ails the bittie dog?" There was something here that sobered the +thoughtless boys. "Come awa', Bobby!" + +At that he came obediently enough. But he trotted down the very +middle of the wynd, head and tail low, and turned unheeding into the +Saturday-evening roar of the Cowgate. He refused to follow them up +the rise between St. Magdalen's Chapel and the eastern parapet of the +bridge, but kept to his way under the middle arch into the Grassmarket. +By way of Candlemakers Row he gained the kirkyard gate, and when the +wicket was opened he disappeared around the church. When Bobby failed +to answer calls, Mr. Brown grumbled, but went after him. The little dog +submitted to his vigorous scrubbing and grooming, but he refused his +supper. Without a look or a wag of the tail he was gone again. + +"Noo, what hae ye done to'im? He's no' like 'is ainsel' ava." + +They had done nothing, indeed. They could only relate Bobby's strange +behavior in College Wynd and the rest of the way home. Mistress Jeanie +nodded her head, with the wisdom of women that is of the heart. + +"Eh, Jamie, that wad be whaur 'is maister deed sax months syne." And +having said it she slipped down the slope with her knitting and sat on +the mound beside the mourning little dog. + +When the awe-struck lads asked for the story Mr. Brown shook his head. +"Ye spier Maister Traill. He kens a' aboot it; an' syne he can talk like +a beuk." + +Before they left the kirkyard the laddies walked down to Auld Jock's +grave and patted Bobby on the head, and they went away thoughtfully to +their scattered homes. + +As on that first morning when his grief was new, Bobby woke to a +Calvinistic Sabbath. There were no rattling carts or hawkers crying +their wares. Steeped in sunshine, the Castle loomed golden into the +blue. Tenement dwellers slept late, and then moved about quietly. +Children with unwontedly clean faces came out to galleries and stairs to +study their catechisms. Only the birds were unaware of the seventh day, +and went about their melodious business; and flower buds opened to the +sun. + +In mid-morning there suddenly broke on the sweet stillness that clamor +of discordant bells that made the wayfarer in Edinburgh stop his ears. +All the way from Leith Harbor to the Burghmuir eight score of warring +bells contended to be heard. Greyfriars alone was silent in that +babblement, for it had lost tower and bell in an explosion of gunpowder. +And when the din ceased at last there was a sound of military music. The +Castle gates swung wide, and a kilted regiment marched down High +Street playing "God Save the Queen." When Bobby was in good spirits the +marching music got into his legs and set him to dancing scandalously. +The caretaker and his wifie always came around the kirk on pleasant +mornings to see the bonny sight of the gay soldiers going to church. + +To wee Bobby these good, comfortable, everyday friends of his must have +seemed strange in their black garments and their serious Sunday faces. +And, ah! the Sabbath must, indeed, have been a dull day to the little +dog. He had learned that when the earliest comer clicked the wicket he +must go under the table-tomb and console himself with the extra bone +that Mr. Traill never failed to remember. With an hour's respite for +dinner at the lodge, between the morning and afternoon services, he lay +there all day. The restaurant was closed, and there was no running about +for good dogs. In the early dark of winter he could come out and trot +quietly about the silent, deserted place. + +As soon as the crocuses pushed their green noses through the earth in +the spring the congregation began to linger among the graves, for to +see an old burying ground renew its life is a peculiar promise of the +resurrection. By midsummer visitors were coming from afar, some even +from over-sea, to read the quaint inscriptions on the old tombs, or to +lay tributes of flowers on the graves of poets and religious heroes. It +was not until the late end of such a day that Bobby could come out of +hiding to stretch his cramped legs. Then it was that tenement children +dropped from low windows, over the tombs, and ate their suppers of oat +cake there in the fading light. + +When Mr. Traill left the kirkyard in the bright evening of the last +Sunday in May he stopped without to wait for Dr. Lee, the minister of +Greyfriars auld kirk, who had been behind him to the gate. Now he was +nowhere to be seen. With Bobby ever in the background of his mind, at +such times of possible discovery, Mr. Traill reentered the kirkyard. +The minister was sitting on the fallen slab, tall silk hat off, with Mr. +Brown standing beside him, uncovered and miserable of aspect, and Bobby +looking up anxiously at this new element in his fate. + +"Do you think it seemly for a dog to be living in the churchyard, Mr. +Brown?" The minister's voice was merely kind and inquiring, but the +caretaker was in fault, and this good English was disconcerting. +However, his conscience acquitted him of moral wrong, and his sturdy +Scotch independence came to the rescue. + +"Gin a bit dog, wha hands 'is gab, isna seemly, thae pussies are the +deil's ain bairns." + +The minister lifted his hand in rebuke. "Remember the Sabbath Day. And I +see no cats, Mr. Brown." + +"Ye wullna see ony as lang as the wee doggie is leevin' i' the +kirkyaird. An' the vermin hae sneekit awa' the first time sin' Queen +Mary's day. An' syne there's mair singin' birdies than for mony a year." + +Mr. Traill had listened, unseen. Now he came forward with a gay +challenge in broad Scotch to put the all but routed caretaker at his +ease. + +"Doctor, I hae a queistion to spier ye. Which is mair unseemly: a +weel-behavin' bittie tyke i' the kirkyaird or a scandalous organ i' the +kirk?" + +"Ah, Mr. Traill, I'm afraid you're a sad, irreverent young dog yourself, +sir." The minister broke into a genial laugh. "Man, you've spoiled a bit +of fun I was having with Mr. Brown, who takes his duties 'sairiously."' +He sat looking down at the little dog until Bobby came up to him and +stood confidingly under his caressing hand. Then he added: "I have +suspected for some months that he was living in the churchyard. It is +truly remarkable that an active, noisy little Skye could keep so still +about it." + +At that Mr. Brown retreated to the martyrs' monument to meditate on +the unministerial behavior of this minister and professor of Biblical +criticism in the University. Mr. Traill, however, sat himself down +on the slab for a pleasant probing into the soul of this courageous +dominie, who had long been under fire for his innovations in the kirk +services. + +"I heard of Bobby first early in the winter, from a Bible-reader at the +Medical Mission in the Cowgate, who saw the little dog's master buried. +He sees many strange, sad things in his work, but nothing ever shocked +him so as the lonely death of that pious old shepherd in such a +picturesque den of vice and misery." + +"Ay, he went from my place, fair ill, into the storm. I never knew whaur +the auld man died." + +The minister looked at Mr. Traill, struck by the note of remorse in his +tone. + +"The missionary returned to the churchyard to look for the dog that had +refused to leave the grave. He concluded that Bobby had gone away to +a new home and master, as most dogs do go sooner or later. Some weeks +afterward the minister of a small church in the hills inquired for him +and insisted that he was still here. This last week, at the General +Assembly, I heard of the wee Highlander from several sources. The tales +of his escapes from the sheep-farm have grown into a sort of Odyssey of +the Pentlands. I think, perhaps, if you had not continued to feed him, +Mr. Traill, he might have remained at his old home." + +"Nae, I'm no' thinking so, and I was no' willing to risk the starvation +of the bonny, leal Highlander." + +Until the stars came out Mr. Traill sat there telling the story. At +mention of his master's name Bobby returned to the mound and stretched +himself across it. "I will go before the kirk officers, Doctor Lee, +and tak' full responseebility. Mr. Brown is no' to blame. It would have +tak'n a man with a heart of trap-rock to have turned the woeful bit dog +out." + +"He is well cared for and is of a hardy breed, so he is not likely to +suffer; but a dog, no more than a man, cannot live on bread alone. His +heart hungers for love." + +"Losh!" cried Mr. Brown. "Are ye thinkin' he isna gettin' it? Oor bairns +are a' oot o' the hame nest, an' ma woman, Jeanie, is fair daft aboot +Bobby, aye thinkin' he'll tak' the measles. An' syne, there's a' the +tenement bairns cryin' oot on 'im ilka meenit, an' ane crippled laddie +he een lets fondle 'im." + +"Still, it would be better if he belonged to some one master. +Everybody's dog is nobody's dog," the minister insisted. "I wish you +could attach him to you, Mr. Traill." + +"Ay, it's a disappointment to me that he'll no' bide with me. Perhaps, +in time--" + +"It's nae use, ava," Mr. Brown interrupted, and he related the incident +of the evening before. "He's cheerfu' eneugh maist o' the time, an' +likes to be wi' the laddies as weel as ony dog, but he isna forgettin' +Auld Jock. The wee doggie cam' again to 'is maister's buryin'. Man, ye +ne'er saw the like o' it. The wifie found 'im flattened oot to a furry +door-mat, an' greetin' to brak 'is heart." + +"It's a remarkable story; and he's a beautiful little dog, and a leal +one." The minister stooped and patted Bobby, and he was thoughtful all +the way to the gate. + +"The matter need not be brought up in any formal way. I will speak +to the elders and deacons about it privately, and refer those wanting +details to you, Mr. Traill. Mr. Brown," he called to the caretaker who +stood in the lodge door, "it cannot be pleasing to God to see the little +creature restrained. Give Bobby his liberty on the Sabbath." + + + + +VIII. + +It was more than eight years after Auld Jock fled from the threat of a +doctor that Mr. Traill's prediction, that his tongue would get him into +trouble with the magistrates, was fulfilled; and then it was because of +the least-considered slip in speaking to a boyhood friend who happened +to be a Burgh policeman. + +Many things had tried the landlord of Ye Olde Greyfriars Dining-Rooms. +After a series of soft April days, in which lilacs budded and birds sang +in the kirkyard, squalls of wind and rain came up out of the sea-roaring +east. The smoky old town of Edinburgh was so shaken and beaten upon and +icily drenched that rattling finials and tiles were torn from ancient +gables and whirled abroad. Rheumatic pains were driven into the joints +of the elderly. Mr. Brown took to his bed in the lodge, and Mr. Traill +was touchy in his temper. + +A sensitive little dog learns to read the human barometer with a degree +of accuracy rarely attained by fellowmen and, in times of low pressure, +wisely effaces himself. His rough thatch streaming, Bobby trotted in +blithely for his dinner, ate it under the settle, shook himself dry, and +dozed half the afternoon. + +To the casual observer the wee terrier was no older than when his master +died. As swift of foot and as sound of wind as he had ever been, he +could tear across country at the heels of a new generation of Heriot +laddies and be as fresh as a daisy at nightfall. Silvery gray all over, +the whitening hairs on his face and tufted feet were not visible. His +hazel-brown eyes were still as bright and soft and deep as the sunniest +pools of Leith Water. It was only when he opened his mouth for a tiny, +pink cavern of a yawn that the points of his teeth could be seen to be +wearing down; and his after-dinner nap was more prolonged than of old. +At such times Mr. Traill recalled that the longest life of a dog is no +more than a fifth of the length of days allotted to man. + +On that snarling April day, when only himself and the flossy ball of +sleeping Skye were in the place, this thought added to Mr. Traill's +discontent. There had been few guests. Those who had come in, soaked and +surly, ate their dinner in silence and discomfort and took themselves +away, leaving the freshly scrubbed floor as mucky as a moss-hag on the +moor. Late in the afternoon a sergeant, risen from the ranks and cocky +about it, came in and turned himself out of a dripping greatcoat, dapper +and dry in his red tunic, pipe-clayed belt, and winking buttons. He +ordered tea and toast and Dundee marmalade with an air of gay well-being +that was no less than a personal affront to a man in Mr. Traill's frame +of mind. Trouble brewed with the tea that Ailie Lindsey, a tall lassie +of fifteen, but shy and elfish as of old, brought in on a tray from the +scullery. + +When this spick-and-span non-commissioned officer demanded Mr. Traill's +price for the little dog that took his eye, the landlord replied curtly +that Bobby was not for sale. The soldier was insolently amused. + +"That's vera surprisin'. I aye thoucht an Edinburgh shopkeeper wad sell +ilka thing he had, an' tak' the siller to bed wi' 'im to keep 'im snug +the nicht." + +Mr. Traill returned, with brief sarcasm, that "his lairdship" had been +misinformed. + +"Why wull ye no' sell the bit dog?" the man insisted. + +The badgered landlord turned upon him and answered at length, after the +elaborate manner of a minister who lays his sermon off in sections, + +"First: he's no' my dog to sell. Second: he's a dog of rare +discreemination, and is no' like to tak' you for a master. Third: you +soldiers aye have with you a special brand of shulling-a-day impudence. +And, fourth and last, my brither: I'm no' needing your siller, and I can +manage to do fair weel without your conversation." + +As this bombardment proceeded, the sergeant's jaw dropped. When it was +finished he laughed heartily and slapped his knee. "Man, come an' brak +bread wi' me or I'll hae to brak yer stiff neck." + +A truce was declared over a cozy pot of tea, and the two became at +least temporary friends. It was such a day that the landlord would have +gossiped with a gaol bird; and when a soldier who has seen years of +service, much of it in strange lands, once admits a shopkeeper to +equality, he can be affable and entertaining "by the ordinar'." Mr. +Traill sketched Bobby's story broadly, and to a sympathetic listener; +and the soldier told the landlord of the animals that had lived and died +in the Castle. + +Parrots and monkeys and strange dogs and cats had been brought there by +regiments returning from foreign countries and colonies. But most of the +pets had been native dogs--collies, spaniels and terriers, and animals +of mixed breeds and of no breed at all, but just good dogs. No one knew +when the custom began, but there was an old and well-filled cemetery +for the Castle pets. When a dog died a little stone was set up, with +the name of the animal and the regiment to which it had belonged on it. +Soldiers often went there among the tiny mounds and told stories of the +virtues and taking ways of old favorites. And visitors read the names of +Flora and Guy and Dandie, of Prince Charlie and Rob Roy, of Jeanie and +Bruce and Wattie. It was a merry life for a dog in the Castle. He +was petted and spoiled by homesick men, and when he died there were a +thousand mourners at his funeral. + +"Put it to the bit Skye noo. If he tak's the Queen's shullin' he belongs +to the army." The sergeant flipped a coin before Bobby, who was wagging +his tail and sniffing at the military boots with his ever lively +interest in soldiers. + +He looked up at the tossed coin indifferently, and when it fell to the +floor he let it lie. "Siller" has no meaning to a dog. His love can be +purchased with nothing less than his chosen master's heart. The soldier +sighed at Bobby's indifference. He introduced himself as Sergeant Scott, +of the Royal Engineers, detailed from headquarters to direct the work +in the Castle crafts shops. Engineers rank high in pay and in +consideration, and it was no ordinary Jack of all trades who had expert +knowledge of so many skilled handicrafts. Mr. Traill's respect and +liking for the man increased with the passing moments. + +As the sergeant departed he warned Mr. Traill, laughingly, that he meant +to kidnap Bobby the very first chance he got. The Castle pet had died, +and Bobby was altogether too good a dog to be wasted on a moldy auld +kirkyard and thrown on a dust-cart when he came to die. + +Mr. Traill resented the imputation. "He'll no' be thrown on a +dust-cart!" + +The door was shut on the mocking retort "Hoo do ye ken he wullna?" + +And there was food for gloomy reflection. The landlord could not know, +in truth, what Bobby's ultimate fate might be. But little over nine +years of age, he should live only five or six years longer at most. Of +his friends, Mr. Brown was ill and aging, and might have to give place +to a younger man. He himself was in his prime, but he could not be +certain of living longer than this hardy little dog. For the first +time he realized the truth of Dr. Lee's saying that everybody's dog was +nobody's dog. The tenement children held Bobby in a sort of community +affection. He was the special pet of the Heriot laddies, but a class was +sent into the world every year and was scattered far. Not one of all the +hundreds of bairns who had known and loved this little dog could give +him any real care or protection. + +For the rest, Bobby had remained almost unknown. Many of the +congregations of old and new Greyfriars had never seen or heard of him. +When strangers were about he seemed to prefer lying in his retreat under +the fallen tomb. His Sunday-afternoon naps he usually took in the lodge +kitchen. And so, it might very well happen that his old age would be +friendless, that he would come to some forlorn end, and be carried away +on the dustman's cart. It might, indeed, be better for him to end +his days in love and honor in the Castle. But to this solution of the +problem Mr. Traill himself was not reconciled. + +Sensing some shifting of the winds in the man's soul, Bobby trotted over +to lick his hand. Then he sat up on the hearth and lolled his tongue, +reminding the good landlord that he had one cheerful friend to bear him +company on the blaw-weary day. It was thus they sat, companionably, +when a Burgh policeman who was well known to Mr. Traill came in to +dry himself by the fire. Gloomy thoughts were dispelled at once by the +instinct of hospitality. + +"You're fair wet, man. Pull a chair to the hearth. And you have a bit +smut on your nose, Davie." + +"It's frae the railway engine. Edinburgh was a reekie toon eneugh +afore the engines cam' in an' belched smuts in ilka body's faces." The +policeman was disgusted and discouraged by three days of wet clothing, +and he would have to go out into the rain again before he got dry. +Nothing occurred to him to talk about but grievances. + +"Did ye ken the Laird Provost, Maister Chambers, is intendin' to knock +a lang hole aboon the tap o' the Coogate wynds? It wull mak' a braid +street ye can leuk doon frae yer doorway here. The gude auld days +gangin' doon in a muckle dust!" + +"Ay, the sun will peep into foul places it hasn't seen sin' Queen Mary's +day. And, Davie, it would be more according to the gude auld customs +you're so fond of to call Mr. William Chambers 'Glenormiston' for his +bit country place." + +"He's no' a laird." + +"Nae; but he'll be a laird the next time the Queen shows her bonny face +north o' the Tweed. Tak' 'a cup o' kindness' with me, man. Hot tay will +tak' the cauld out of vour disposeetion." Mr. Traill pulled a bell-cord +and Ailie, unused as yet to bells, put her startled little face in at +the door to the scullery. At sight of the policeman she looked more than +ever like a scared rabbit, and her hands shook when she set the tray +down before him. A tenement child grew up in an atmosphere of hostility +to uniformed authority, which seldom appeared except to interfere with +what were considered personal affairs. + +The tea mollified the dour man, but there was one more rumbling. "I'm +no' denyin' the Provost's gude-hearted. Ance he got up a hame for +gaen-aboot dogs, an' he had naethin' to mak' by that. But he canna keep +'is spoon oot o' ilka body's porridge. He's fair daft to tear doon the +wa's that cut St. Giles up into fower, snod, white kirks, an' mak' it +the ane muckle kirk it was in auld Papist days. There are folk that say, +gin he doesna leuk oot, anither kale wifie wull be throwin' a bit stool +at 'is meddlin' heid." + +"Eh, nae doubt. There's aye a plentifu' supply o' fules in the warld." + +Seeing his good friend so well entertained, and needing his society no +longer, Bobby got up, wagged his tail in farewell, and started toward +the door. Mr. Traill summoned the little maid and spoke to her kindly: +"Give Bobby a bone, lassie, and then open the door for him." + +In carrying out these instructions Ailie gave the policeman as wide +leeway as possible and kept a wary eye upon him. The officer's duties +were chiefly up on High Street. He seldom crossed the bridge, and it +happened that he had never seen Bobby before. Just by way of making +conversation he remarked, "I didna ken ye had a dog, John." + +Ailie stopped stock still, the cups on the tray she was taking out +tinkling from her agitation. It was thus policemen spoke at private +doors in the dark tenements: "I didna ken ye had the smallpox." But +Mr. Traill seemed in no way alarmed. He answered with easy indulgence +"That's no' surprising. There's mony a thing you dinna ken, Davie." + +The landlord forgot the matter at once, but Ailie did not, for she saw +the officer flush darkly and, having no answer ready, go out in silence. +In truth, the good-humored sarcasm rankled in the policeman's breast. An +hour later he suddenly came to a standstill below the clock tower of the +Tron kirk on High Street, and he chuckled. + +"Eh, John Traill. Ye're unco' weel furnished i' the heid, but there's +ane or twa things ye dinna ken yer ainsel'." + +Entirely taken up with his brilliant idea, he lost no time in putting it +to work. He dodged among the standing cabs and around the buttresses of +St. Giles that projected into the thoroughfare. In the mid-century +there was a police office in the middle of the front of the historic old +cathedral that had then fallen to its lowest ebb of fortune. There the +officer reported a matter that was strictly within the line of his duty. + +Very early the next morning he was standing before the door of Mr. +Traill's place, in the fitful sunshine of clearing skies, when the +landlord appeared to begin the business of the day. + +"Are ye Maister John Traill?" + +"Havers, Davie! What ails you, man? You know my name as weel as you know +your ain." + +"It's juist a formality o' the law to mak' ye admit yer identity. Here's +a bit paper for ye." He thrust an official-looking document into Mr. +Traill's hand and took himself away across the bridge, fair satisfied +with his conduct of an affair of subtlety. + +It required five minutes for Mr. Traill to take in the import of the +legal form. Then a wrathful explosion vented itself on the unruly key +that persisted in dodging the keyhole. But once within he read the +paper again, put it away thoughtfully in an inner pocket, and outwardly +subsided to his ordinary aspect. He despatched the business of the day +with unusual attention to details and courtesy to guests, and when, in +mid afternoon, the place was empty, he followed Bobby to the kirkyard +and inquired at the lodge if he could see Mr. Brown. + +"He isna so ill, noo, Maister Traill, but I wadna advise ye to hae +muckle to say to 'im." Mistress Jeanie wore the arch look of the wifie +who is somewhat amused by a convalescent husband's ill humors. "The +pains grupped 'im sair, an' noo that he's easier he'd see us a' hanged +wi' pleesure. Is it onything by the ordinar'?" + +"Nae. It's just a sma' matter I can attend to my ainsel'. Do you think +he could be out the morn?" + +"No' afore a week or twa, an' syne, gin the bonny sun comes oot to bide +a wee." + +Mr. Traill left the kirkyard and went out to George Square to call upon +the minister of Greyfriars auld kirk. The errand was unfruitful, and he +was back in ten minutes, to spend the evening alone, without even the +consolation of Bobby's company, for the little dog was unhappy outside +the kirkyard after sunset. And he took an unsettling thought to bed with +him. + +Here was a pretty kettle of fish, indeed, for a respected member of a +kirk and middle-aged business man to fry in. Through the legal verbiage +Mr. Traill made out that he was summoned to appear before whatever +magistrate happened to be sitting on the morrow in the Burgh court, to +answer to the charge of owning, or harboring, one dog, upon which he had +not paid the license tax of seven shillings. + +For all its absurdity it was no laughing matter. The municipal court of +Edinburgh was of far greater dignity than the ordinary justice court +of the United Kingdom and of America. The civic bench was occupied, in +turn, by no less a personage than the Lord Provost as chief, and by +five other magistrates elected by the Burgh council from among its own +membership. Men of standing in business, legal and University circles, +considered it an honor and a duty to bring their knowledge and +responsibility to bear on the pettiest police cases. + +It was morning before Mr. Traill had the glimmer of an idea to take with +him on this unlucky business. An hour before the opening of court he +crossed the bridge into High Street, which was then as picturesquely +Gothic and decaying and overpopulated as the Cowgate, but high-set, +wind-swept and sun-searched, all the way up the sloping mile from +Holyrood Palace to the Castle. The ridge fell away steeply, through +rifts of wynds and closes, to the Cowgate ravine on the one hand, and to +Princes Street's parked valley on the other. Mr. Traill turned into the +narrow descent of Warriston Close. Little more than a crevice in the +precipice of tall, old buildings, on it fronted a business house whose +firm name was known wherever the English language was read: "W. and R. +Chambers, Publishers." + +From top to bottom the place was gas-lit, even on a sunny spring +morning, and it hummed and clattered with printing-presses. No one was +in the little anteroom to the editorial offices beside a young clerk, +but at sight of a red-headed, freckle-faced Heriot laddie of Bobby's +puppyhood days Mr. Traill's spirits rose. + +"A gude day to you, Sandy McGregor; and whaur's your auld twin +conspirator, Geordie Ross?" + +"He's a student in the Medical College, Mr. Traill. He went by this +meenit to the Botanical Garden for herbs my grandmither has aye known +without books." Sandy grinned in appreciation of this foolishness, +but he added, with Scotch shrewdness, "It's gude for the book-prenting +beesiness." + +"It is so," the landlord agreed, heartily. "But you must no' be +forgetting that the Chambers brothers war book readers and sellers +before they war publishers. You are weel set up in life, laddie, and +Heriot's has pulled the warst of the burrs from your tongue. I'm wanting +to see Glenormiston." + +"Mr. William Chambers is no' in. Mr. Robert is aye in, but he's no' +liking to be fashed about sma' things." + +"I'll no' trouble him. It's the Lord Provost I'm wanting, on ofeecial +beesiness." He requested Sandy to ask Glenormiston, if he came in, to +come over to the Burgh court and spier for Mr. Traill. + +"It's no' his day to sit as magistrate, and he's no' like to go unless +it's a fair sairious matter." + +"Ay, it is, laddie. It's a matter of life and death, I'm thinking!" +He smiled grimly, as it entered his head that he might be driven to do +violence to that meddling policeman. The yellow gas-light gave his face +such a sardonic aspect that Sandy turned pale. + +"Wha's death, man?" + +Mr. Traill kept his own counsel, but at the door he turned: "You'll no' +be remembering the bittie terrier that lived in the kirkyard?" + +The light of boyhood days broke in Sandy's grin. "Ay, I'll no' be +forgetting the sonsie tyke. He was a deil of a dog to tak' on a holiday. +Is he still faithfu' to his dead master?" + +"He is that; and for his faithfu'ness he's like to be dead himsel'. The +police are takin' up masterless dogs an' putting them out o' the way. +I'll mak' a gude fight for Bobby in the Burgh court." + +"I'll fight with you, man." The spirit of the McGregor clan, though +much diluted and subdued by town living, brought Sandy down from a +three-legged stool. He called another clerk to take his place, and made +off to find the Lord Provost, powerful friend of hameless dogs. Mr. +Traill hastened down to the Royal Exchange, below St. Giles and on the +northern side of High Street. + +Less than a century old, this municipal building was modern among +ancient rookeries. To High Street it presented a classic front of +four stories, recessed by flanking wings, around three sides of a +quadrangular courtyard. Near the entrance there was a row of barber +shops and coffee-rooms. Any one having business with the city offices +went through a corridor between these places of small trade to the +stairway court behind them. On the floor above, one had to inquire of +some uniformed attendant in which of the oaken, ante-roomed halls the +Burgh court was sitting. And by the time one got there all the pride of +civic history of the ancient royal Burgh, as set forth in portrait and +statue and a museum of antiquities, was apt to take the lime out of +the backbone of a man less courageous than Mr. Traill. What a car of +juggernaut to roll over one, small, masterless terrier! + +But presently the landlord found himself on his feet, and not so ill at +ease. A Scottish court, high or low, civil or criminal, had a flavor all +its own. Law points were threshed over with gusto, but counsel, client, +and witness gained many a point by ready wit, and there was no lack of +dry humor from the bench. About the Burgh court, for all its stately +setting, there was little formality. The magistrate of the day sat +behind a tall desk, with a clerk of record at his elbow, and the officer +gave his testimony briefly: Edinburgh being quite overrun by stray and +unlicensed dogs, orders had recently been given the Burgh police to +report such animals. In Mr. Traill's place he had seen a small terrier +that appeared to be at home there; and, indeed, on the dog's going out, +Mr. Traill had called a servant lassie to fetch a bone, and to open the +door for him. He noticed that the animal wore no collar, and felt it his +duty to report the matter. + +By the time Mr. Traill was called to answer to the charge a number of +curious idlers had gathered on the back benches. He admitted his name +and address, but denied that he either owned or was harboring a dog. +The magistrate fixed a cold eye upon him, and asked if he meant to +contradict the testimony of the officer. + +"Nae, your Honor; and he might have seen the same thing ony week-day of +the past eight and a half years. But the bit terrier is no' my ain +dog." Suddenly, the memory of the stormy night, the sick old man and the +pathos of his renunciation of the only beating heart in the world that +loved him--"Bobby isna ma ain dog!" swept over the remorseful landlord. +He was filled with a fierce championship of the wee Highlander, whose +loyalty to that dead master had brought him to this strait. + +To the magistrate Mr. Traill's tossed-up head had the effect of +defiance, and brought a sharp rebuke. "Don't split hairs, Mr. Traill. +You are wasting the time of the court. You admit feeding the dog. Who is +his master and where does he sleep?" + +"His master is in his grave in auld Greyfriars kirkyard, and the dog has +aye slept there on the mound." + +The magistrate leaned over his desk. "Man, no dog could sleep in the +open for one winter in this climate. Are you fond of romancing, Mr. +Traill?" + +"No' so overfond, your Honor. The dog is of the subarctic breed of Skye +terriers, the kind with a thick under-jacket of fleece, and a weather +thatch that turns rain like a crofter's cottage roof." + +"There should be witnesses to such an extraordinary story. The dog could +not have lived in this strictly guarded churchyard without the +consent of those in authority." The magistrate was plainly annoyed and +skeptical, and Mr. Traill felt the sting of it. + +"Ay, the caretaker has been his gude friend, but Mr. Brown is ill +of rheumatism, and can no' come out. Nae doubt, if necessary, his +deposeetion could be tak'n. Permission for the bit dog to live in the +kirkyard was given by the meenister of Greyfriars auld kirk, but Doctor +Lee is in failing health and has gone to the south of France. The +tenement children and the Heriot laddies have aye made a pet of Bobby, +but they would no' be competent witnesses." + +"You should have counsel. There are some legal difficulties here." + +"I'm no' needing a lawyer. The law in sic a matter can no' be so +complicated, and I have a tongue in my ain head that has aye served +me, your Honor." The magistrate smiled, and the spectators moved to the +nearer benches to enjoy this racy man. The room began to fill by that +kind of telepathy that causes crowds to gather around the human drama. +One man stood, unnoticed, in the doorway. Mr. Traill went on, quietly: +"If the court permits me to do so, I shall be glad to pay for Bobby's +license, but I'm thinking that carries responsibeelity for the bit dog." + +"You are quite right, Mr. Traill. You would have to assume +responsibility. Masterless dogs have become a serious nuisance in the +city." + +"I could no' tak' responsibeelity. The dog is no' with me more than a +couple of hours out of the twenty-four. I understand that most of his +time is spent in the kirkyard, in weel-behaving, usefu' ways, but I +could no' be sure." + +"But why have you fed him for so many years? Was his master a friend?" + +"Nae, just a customer, your Honor; a simple auld shepherd who ate his +market-day dinner in my place. He aye had the bit dog with him, and +I was the last man to see the auld body before he went awa' to his +meeserable death in a Cowgate wynd. Bobby came to me, near starved, +to be fed, two days after his master's burial. I was tak'n by the wee +Highlander's leal spirit." + +And that was all the landlord would say. He had no mind to wear his +heart upon his sleeve for this idle crowd to gape at. + +After a moment the magistrate spoke warmly: "It appears, then, that the +payment of the license could not be accepted from you. Your humanity is +commendable, Mr. Traill, but technically you are in fault. The minimum +fine should be imposed and remitted." + +At this utterly unlooked-for conclusion Mr. Traill seemed to gather +his lean shoulders together for a spring, and his gray eyes narrowed to +blades. + +"With due respect to your Honor, I must tak' an appeal against sic a +deceesion, to the Lord Provost and a' the magistrates, and then to the +Court of Sessions." + +"You would get scant attention, Mr. Traill. The higher judiciary have +more important business than reviewing dog cases. You would be laughed +out of court." + +The dry tone stung him to instant retort. "And in gude company I'd +be. Fifty years syne Lord Erskine was laughed down in Parliament for +proposing to give legal protection to dumb animals. But we're getting a +bit more ceevilized." + +"Tut, tut, Mr. Traill, you are making far too much of a small matter." + +"It's no' a sma' matter to be entered in the records of the Burgh court +as a petty law-breaker. And if I continued to feed the dog I would be in +contempt of court." + +The magistrate was beginning to feel badgered. "The fine carries the +interdiction with it, Mr. Traill, if you are asking for information." + +"It was no' for information, but just to mak' plain my ain line of +conduct. I'm no' intending to abandon the dog. I am commended here for +my humanity, but the bit dog I must let starve for a technicality." +Instantly, as the magistrate half rose from the bench, the landlord +saw that he had gone too far, and put the court on the defensive. In an +easy, conversational tone, as if unaware of the point he had scored, +he asked if he might address his accuser on a personal matter. "We knew +each other weel as laddies. Davie, when you're in my neeborhood again on +a wet day, come in and dry yoursel' by my fire and tak' another cup o' +kindness for auld lang syne. You'll be all the better man for a lesson +in morals the bit dog can give you: no' to bite the hand that feeds +you." + +The policeman turned purple. A ripple of merriment ran through the room. +The magistrate put his hand up to his mouth, and the clerk began to drop +pens. Before silence was restored a messenger laddie ran up with a note +for the bench. The magistrate read it with a look of relief, and nodded +to the man who had been listening from the doorway, but who disappeared +at once. + +"The case is ordered continued. The defendant will be given time to +secure witnesses, and notified when to appear. The next case is called." + +Somewhat dazed by this sudden turn, and annoyed by the delayed +settlement of the affair, Mr. Traill hastened from the court-room. As he +gained the street he was overtaken by the messenger with a second note. +And there was a still more surprising turn that sent the landlord off up +swarming High Street, across the bridge, and on to his snug little place +of business, with the face and the heart of a school-boy. When Bobby, +draggled by three days of wet weather, came in for his dinner, Mr. +Traill scanned him critically and in some perplexity. At the end of +the day's work, as Ailie was dropping her quaint curtsy and giving her +adored employer a shy "gude nicht," he had a sudden thought that made +him call her back. + +"Did you ever give a bit dog a washing, lassie?" + +"Ye mean Bobby, Maister Traill? Nae, I didna." Her eyes sparkled. "But +Tammy's hauded 'im for Maister Brown, an' he says it's sonsie to gie the +bonny wee a washin'." + +"Weel, Mr. Brown is fair ill, and there has been foul weather. Bobby's +getting to look like a poor 'gaen aboot' dog. Have him at the kirkyard +gate at a quarter to eight o'clock the morn looking like a leddy's pet +and I'll dance a Highland fling at your wedding." + +"Are ye gangin' to tak' Bobby on a picnic, Maister Traill?" + +He answered with a mock solemnity and a twinkle in his eyes that +mystified the little maid. "Nae, lassie; I'm going to tak' him to a +meeting in a braw kirk." + + + + +IX + +When Ailie wanted to get up unusually early in the morning she made +use of Tammy for an alarm-clock. A crippled laddie who must "mak' +'is leevin' wi' 'is heid" can waste no moment of daylight, and in the +ancient buildings around Greyfriars the maximum of daylight was to be +had only by those able and willing to climb to the gables. Tammy, having +to live on the lowest, darkest floor of all, used the kirkyard for a +study, by special indulgence of the caretaker, whenever the weather +permitted. + +From a window he dropped his books and his crutches over the wall. Then, +by clasping his arms around a broken shaft that blocked the casement, he +swung himself out, and scrambled down into an enclosed vault yard. +There he kept hidden Mistress Jeanie's milking stool for a seat; and a +table-tomb served as well, for the laddie to do his sums upon, as it +had for the tearful signing of the Covenant more than two hundred +years before. Bobby, as host, greeted Tammy with cordial friskings and +waggings, saw him settled to his tasks, and then went briskly about his +own interrupted business of searching out marauders. Many a spring dawn +the quiet little boy and the swift and silent little dog had the shadowy +garden all to themselves, and it was for them the song-thrushes and +skylarks gave their choicest concerts. + +On that mid-April morning, when the rising sun gilded the Castle turrets +and flashed back from the many beautiful windows of Heriot's Hospital, +Tammy bundled his books under the table-tomb of Mistress Jean Grant, +went over to the rear of the Guildhall at the top of the Row, and threw +a handful of gravel up to Ailie's window. Because of a grandmither, +Ailie, too, dwelt on a low level. Her eager little face, lighted by +sleep-dazzled blue eyes, popped out with the surprising suddenness of +the manikins in a Punch-and-Judy show. + +"In juist ane meenit, Tammy," she whispered, "no' to wauken the +grandmither." It was in so very short a minute that the lassie climbed +out onto the classic pediment of a tomb and dropped into the kirkyard +that her toilet was uncompleted. Tammy buttoned her washed-out cotton +gown at the back, and she sat on a slab to lace her shoes. If the fun +of giving Bobby his bath was to be enjoyed to the full there must be no +unnecessary delay. This consideration led Tammy to observe: + +"Ye're no' needin' to comb yer hair, Ailie. It leuks bonny eneugh." + +In truth, Ailie was one of those fortunate lassies whose crinkly, +gold-brown mop really looked best when in some disorder; and of that +advantage the little maid was well aware. + +"I ken a' that, Tammy. I aye gie it a lick or twa wi' a comb the nicht +afore. Ca' the wee doggie." + +Bobby fully understood that he was wanted for some serious purpose, but +it was a fresh morning of dew and he, apparently, was in the highest of +spirits. So he gave Ailie a chase over the sparkling grass and under the +showery shrubbery. When he dropped at last on Auld Jock's grave +Tammy captured him. The little dog could always be caught there, in a +caressable state of exhaustion or meditation, for, sooner or later, he +returned to the spot from every bit of work or play. No one would have +known it for a place of burial at all. Mr. Brown knew it only by the +rose bush at its head and by Bobby's haunting it, for the mound had +sunk to the general level of the terrace on which it lay, and spreading +crocuses poked their purple and gold noses through the crisp spring +turf. But for the wee, guardian dog the man who lay beneath had long +lost what little identity he had ever possessed. + +Now, as the three lay there, the lassie as flushed and damp as some +water-nymph, Bobby panting and submitting to a petting, Tammy took the +little dog's muzzle between his thin hands, parted the veil, and looked +into the soft brown eyes. + +"Leak, Ailie, Bobby's wantin' somethin', an' is juist haudin' 'imsel'." + +It was true. For all his gaiety in play and his energy at work Bobby's +eyes had ever a patient, wistful look, not unlike the crippled laddie's. +Ah, who can say that it did not require as much courage and gallant +bravado on the part of that small, bereft creature to enable him to live +at all, as it did for Tammy to face his handicapped life and "no' to +remember 'is bad legs"? + +In the bath on the rear steps of the lodge Bobby swam and splashed, and +scattered foam with his excited tail. He would not stand still to be +groomed, but wriggled and twisted and leaped upon the children, putting +his shaggy wet paws roguishly in their faces. But he stood there at +last, after the jolliest romp, in which the old kirkyard rang with +laughter, and oh! so bonny, in his rippling coat of dark silver. No +sooner was he released than he dashed around the kirk and back again, +bringing his latest bone in his mouth. To his scratching on the stone +sill, for he had been taught not to scratch on the panel, the door +was opened by snod and smiling Mistress Jeanie, who invited these slum +bairns into such a cozy, spotless kitchen as was not possible in the +tenements. Mr. Brown sat by the hearth, bundled in blue and white +blankets of wonderfully blocked country weaving. Bobby put his fore paws +on the caretaker's chair and laid his precious bone in the man's lap. + +"Eh, ye takin' bit rascal; loup!" Bobby jumped to the patted knee, +turned around and around on the soft bed that invited him, licked the +beaming old face to show his sympathy and friendliness, and jumped down +again. Mr. Brown sighed because Bobby steadily but amiably refused to be +anybody's lap-dog. The caretaker turned to the admiring children. + +"Ilka morn he fetches 'is bit bane up, thinkin' it a braw giftie for an +ill man. An' syne he veesits me twa times i' the day, juist bidin' a +wee on the hearthstane, lollin' 'is tongue an' waggin' 'is tail, +cheerfu'-like. Bobby has mair gude sense in 'is heid than mony a man wha +comes ben the hoose, wi' a lang face, to let me ken I'm gangin' to dee. +Gin I keep snug an' canny it wullna gang to the heart. Jeanie, woman, +fetch ma fife, wull ye?" + +Then there were strange doings in the kirkyard lodge. James Brown "wasna +gangin' to dee" before his time came, at any rate. In his youth, as +under-gardener on a Highland estate, he had learned to play the piccolo +flute, and lately he had revived the pastoral art of piping just because +it went so well with Bobby's delighted legs. To the sonsie air of +"Bonnie Dundee" Bobby hopped and stepped and louped, and he turned +about on his hind feet, his shagged fore paws drooped on his breast as +daintily as the hands in the portraits of early Victorian ladies. The +fire burned cheerily in the polished grate, and winked on every shining +thing in the room; primroses bloomed in the diamond-paned casement; the +skylark fluttered up and sang in its cage; the fife whistled as gaily as +a blackbird, and the little dog danced with a comic clumsiness that made +them all double up with laughter. The place was so full of brightness, +and of kind and merry hearts, that there was room for nothing else. Not +one of them dreamed that the shadow of the law was even then over this +useful and lovable little dog's head. + +A glance at the wag-at-the-wa' clock reminded Ailie that Mr. Traill +might be waiting for Bobby. + +Curious about the mystery, the children took the little dog down to the +gate, happily. They were sobered, however, when Mr. Traill appeared, +looking very grand in his Sabbath clothes. He inspected Bobby all over +with anxious scrutiny, and gave each of the bairns a threepenny-bit, +but he had no blithe greeting for them. Much preoccupied, he went off at +once, with the animated little muff of a dog at his heels. In truth, Mr. +Traill was thinking about how he might best plead Bobby's cause with the +Lord Provost. The note that was handed him, on leaving the Burgh court +the day before, had read: + +"Meet me at the Regent's Tomb in St. Giles at eight o'clock in the +morning, and bring the wee Highlander with you.--Glenormiston." + +On the first reading the landlord's spirits had risen, out of all +proportion to the cause, owing to his previous depression. But, after +all, the appointment had no official character, since the Regent's Tomb +in St. Giles had long been a sort of town pump for the retailing of +gossip and for the transaction of trifling affairs of all sorts. The +fate of this little dog was a small matter, indeed, and so it might be +thought fitting, by the powers that be, that it should be decided at the +Regent's Tomb rather than in the Burgh court. + +To the children, who watched from the kirkyard gate until Mr. Traill and +Bobby were hidden by the buildings on the bridge, it was no' canny. The +busy landlord lived mostly in shirt-sleeves and big white apron, ready +to lend a hand in the rush hours, and he never was known to put on +his black coat and tall hat on a week-day, except to attend a funeral. +However, there was the day's work to be done. Tammy had a lesson +still to get, and returned to the kirkyard, and Ailie ran up to the +dining-rooms. On the step she collided with a red headed, freckle-faced +young man who asked for Mr. Traill. + +"He isna here." The shy lassie was made almost speechless by +recognizing, in this neat, well-spoken clerk, an old Heriot boy, once as +poor as herself. + +"Do you wark for him, lassie? Weel, do you know how he cam' out in the +Burgh court about the bit dog?" + +There was only one "bit dog" in the world to Ailie. Wild eyed with alarm +at mention of the Burgh court, in connection with that beloved little +pet, she stammered: "It's--it's--no' a coort he gaed to. Maister +Traill's tak'n Bobby awa' to a braw kirk." + +Sandy nodded his head. "Ay, that would be the police office in St. +Giles. Lassie, tell Mr. Traill I sent the Lord Provost, and if he's +needing a witness to ca' on Sandy McGregor." + +Ailie stared after him with frightened eyes. Into her mind flashed that +ominous remark of the policeman two days before: "I didna ken ye had a +dog, John?" She overtook Sandy in front of the sheriff's court on the +bridge. + +"What--what hae the police to do wi' bittie dogs?" + +"If a dog has nae master to pay for his license the police can tak' him +up and put him out o' the way." + +"Hoo muckle siller are they wantin'?" + +"Seven shullings. Gude day, lassie; I'm fair late." Sandy was not really +alarmed about Bobby since the resourceful Mr. Traill had taken up +his cause, and he had no idea of the panic of grief and fright that +overwhelmed this forlorn child. + +Seven shullings! It was an enormous sum to the tenement bairn, whose +half-blind grandmither knitted and knitted in a dimly lighted room, and +hoarded halfpennies and farthings to save herself from pauper burial. +Seven shullings would pay a month's rent for any one of the crowded +rooms in which a family lived. Ailie herself, an untrained lassie who +scarcely knew the use of a toasting-fork, was overpaid by generous Mr. +Traill at sixpence a day. Seven shullings to permit one little dog to +live! It did not occur to Ailie that this was a sum Mr. Traill could +easily pay. No' onybody at all had seven shullings all at once! But, oh! +everybody had pennies and halfpennies and farthings, and she and Tammy +together had a sixpence. + +Darting back to the gate, to catch the laddie before he could be off to +school, she ran straight into the policeman, who stood with his hand on +the wicket. He eyed her sharply. + +"Eh, lassie, I was gangin' to spier at the lodge, gin there's a bit dog +leevin' i' the kirkyaird." + +"I--I--dinna ken." Her voice was unmanageable. She had left to her only +the tenement-bred instinct of concealment of any and all facts from an +officer of the law. + +"Ye dinna ken! Maister Traill said i' the coort a' the bairns aboot +kenned the dog. Was he leein'?" + +The question stung her into angry admission. "He wadna be leein'. +But--but--the bittie--dog--isna here noo." + +"Syne, whaur is he? Oot wi' it!" + +"I--dinna--ken!" She cowered in abject fear against the wall. She could +not know that this officer was suffering a bad attack of shame for his +shabby part in the affair. Satisfied that the little dog really did +live in the kirkyard, he turned back to the bridge. When Tammy came +out presently he found Ailie crumpled up in a limp little heap in the +gateway alcove. In a moment the tale of Bobby's peril was told. The +laddie dropped his books and his crutches on the pavement, and his head +in his helpless arms, and cried. He had small faith in Ailie's suddenly +conceived plan to collect the seven shullings among the dwellers in the +tenements. + +"Do ye ken hoo muckle siller seven shullin's wad be? It's auchty-fower +pennies, a hundred an' saxty-aucht ha'pennies an'--an'--I canna think +hoo mony farthings." + +"I dinna care a bittie bit. There's mair folk aroond the kirkyaird than +there's farthings i' twa, three times seven shullin's. An' maist ilka +body kens Bobby. An' we hae a saxpence atween us noo." + +"Maister Brown wad gie us anither saxpence gin he had ane," Tammy +suggested, wistfully. + +"Nae, he's fair ill. Gin he doesna keep canny it wull gang to 'is heart. +He'd be aff 'is heid, aboot Bobby. Oh, Tammy, Maister Traill gaed to +gie 'im up! He was wearin' a' 'is gude claes an' a lang face, to gang to +Bobby's buryin'." + +This dreadful thought spurred them to instant action. By way of mutual +encouragement they went together through the sculptured doorway, that +bore the arms of the ancient guild of the candlemakers on the lintel, +and into the carting office on the front. + +"Do ye ken Greyfriars Bobby?" Tammy asked, timidly, of the man in +charge. + +He glowered at the laddie and shook his head. "Havers, mannie; there's +no' onybody named for an auld buryin' groond." + +The children fled. There was no use at all in wasting time on folk who +did not know Bobby, for it would take too long to explain him. But, +alas, they soon discovered that "maist ilka body" did not know the +little dog, as they had so confidently supposed. He was sure to be known +only in the rooms at the rear that overlooked the kirkyard, and, as one +went upward, his identity became less and less distinct. He was such +a wee, wee, canny terrier, and so many of the windows had their views +constantly shut out by washings. Around the inner courts, where unkempt +women brought every sort of work out to the light on the galleries and +mended worthless rags, gossiped, and nursed their babies on the stairs, +Bobby had sometimes been heard of, but almost never seen. Children often +knew him where their elders did not. By the time Ailie and Tammy had +worked swiftly down to the bottom of the Row other children began to +follow them, moved by the peril of the little dog to sympathy and eager +sacrifice. + +"Bide a wee, Ailie!" cried one, running to overtake the lassie. "Here's +a penny. I was gangin' for milk for the porridge. We can do wi'oot the +day." + +And there was the money for the broth bone, and the farthing that +would have filled the gude-man's evening pipe, and the ha'penny for the +grandmither's tea. It was the world-over story of the poor helping the +poor. The progress of Ailie and Tammy through the tenements was like +that of the piper through Hamelin. The children gathered and gathered, +and followed at their heels, until a curiously quiet mob of threescore +or more crouched in the court of the old hall of the Knights of St. +John, in the Grassmarket, to count the many copper coins in Tammy's +woolen bonnet. + +"Five shullin's, ninepence, an' a ha'penny," Tammy announced. And then, +after calculation on his fingers, "It'll tak' a shullin' an' twapenny +ha'penny mair." + +There was a gasping breath of bitter disappointment, and one wee laddie +wailed for lost Bobby. At that Ailie dashed the tears from her own eyes +and sprang up, spurred to desperate effort. She would storm the all but +hopeless attic chambers. Up the twisting turnpike stairs on the outer +wall she ran, to where the swallows wheeled about the cornices, and she +could hear the iron cross of the Knights Templars creak above the gable. +Then, all the way along a dark passage, at one door after another, she +knocked, and cried, + +"Do ye ken Greyfriars Bobby?" + +At some of the doors there was no answer. At others students stared out +at the bairn, not in the least comprehending this wild crying. Tears of +anger and despair flooded the little maid's blue eyes when she beat on +the last door of the row with her doubled fist. + +"Do ye ken Greyfriars Bobby? The police are gangin' to mak' 'im be +deid--" As the door was flung open she broke into stormy weeping. + +"Hey, lassie. I know the dog. What fashes you?" + +There stood a tall student, a wet towel about his head, and, behind +him, the rafters of the dormer-lighted closet were as thickly hung +with bunches of dried herbs from the Botanical Garden as any auld witch +wife's kitchen. + +"Oh, are ye kennin' 'im? Isna he bonny an' sonsie? Gie me the shullin' +an' twapenny ha' penny we're needin', so the police wullna put 'im +awa'." + +"Losh! It's a license you're wanting? I wish I had as many shullings +as I've had gude times with Bobby, and naething to pay for his braw +company." + +For this was Geordie Ross, going through the Medical College with the +help of Heriot's fund that, large as it was, was never quite enough +for all the poor and ambitious youths of Edinburgh. And so, although +provided for in all necessary ways, his pockets were nearly as empty as +of old. He could spare a sixpence if he made his dinner on a potato and +a smoked herring. That he was very willing to do, once he had heard +the tale, and he went with Ailie to the lodgings of other students, and +demanded their siller with no explanation at all. + +"Give the lassie what you can spare, man, or I'll have to give you a +licking," was his gay and convincing argument, from door to door, until +the needed amount was made up. Ailie fled recklessly down the stairs, +and cried triumphantly to the upward-looking, silent crowd that had +grown and grown around Tammy, like some host of children crusaders. + +While Ailie and Tammy were collecting the price of his ransom Bobby was +exploring the intricately cut-up interior of old St. Giles, sniffing at +the rifts in flimsily plastered partitions that the Lord Provost pointed +out to Mr. Traill. Rats were in those crumbling walls. If there had been +a hole big enough to admit him, the plucky little dog would have gone +in after them. Forbidden to enlarge one, Bobby could only poke his +indignant muzzle into apertures, and brace himself as for a fray. And, +at the very smell of him, there were such squeakings and scamperings in +hidden runways as to be almost beyond a terrier's endurance. The Lord +Provost watched him with an approving eye. + +"When these partitions are tak'n down Bobby would be vera useful in +ridding our noble old cathedral of vermin. But that will not be in this +wee Highlander's day nor, I fear, in mine." About the speech of this +Peebles man, who had risen from poverty to distinction, learning, +wealth, and many varieties of usefulness, there was still an engaging +burr. And his manner was so simple that he put the humblest at his ease. + +There had been no formality about the meeting at all. Glenormiston was +standing in a rear doorway of the cathedral near the Regent's Tomb, +looking out into the sunny square of Parliament Close, when Mr. Traill +and Bobby appeared. Near seventy, at that time, a backward sweep of +white hair and a downward flow of square-cut, white beard framed a +boldly featured face and left a generous mouth uncovered. + +"Gude morning, Mr. Traill. So that is the famous dog that has stood +sentinel for more than eight years. He should be tak'n up to the Castle +and shown to young soldiers who grumble at twenty-four hours' guard +duty. How do you do, sir!" The great man, whom the Queen knighted later, +and whom the University he was too poor to attend as a lad honored with +a degree, stooped from the Regent's Tomb and shook Bobby's lifted paw +with grave courtesy. Then, leaving the little dog to entertain himself, +he turned easily to his own most absorbing interest of the moment. + +"Do you happen to care for Edinburgh antiquities, Mr. Traill? +Reformation piety made sad havoc of art everywhere. Man, come here!" + +Down into the lime dust the Lord Provost and the landlord went, in their +good black clothes, for a glimpse of a bit of sculpturing on a tomb that +had been walled in to make a passage. A loose brick removed, behind and +above it, the sun flashed through fragments of emerald and ruby glass +of a saint's robe, in a bricked up window. Such buried and forgotten +treasure, Glenormiston explained, filled the entire south transept. In +the High Kirk, that then filled the eastern end of the cathedral, they +went up a cheap wooden stairway, to the pew-filled gallery that was +built into the old choir, and sat down. Mr. Traill's eyes sparkled. +Glenormiston was a man after his own heart, and they were getting along +famously; but, oh! it began to seem more and more unlikely that a Lord +Provost, who was concerned about such braw things as the restoration of +the old cathedral and letting the sun into the ancient tenements, should +be much interested in a small, masterless dog. + +"Man, auld John Knox will turn over in his bit grave in Parliament Close +if you put a 'kist o' whustles' in St. Giles." Mr. Traill laughed. + +"I admit I might have stopped short of the organ but for the courageous +example of Doctor Lee in Greyfriars. It was from him that I had a quite +extravagant account of this wee, leal Highlander a few years ago. I have +aye meant to go to see him; but I'm a busy man and the matter passed out +of mind. Mr. Traill, I'm your sadly needed witness: I heard you from the +doorway of the court-room, and I sent up a note confirming your story +and asking, as a courtesy, that the case be turned over to me for some +exceptional disposal. Would you mind telling another man the tale that +so moved Doctor Lee? I've aye had a fondness for the human document." + +So there, above the pulpit of the High Kirk of St. Giles, the tale was +told again, so strangely did this little dog's life come to be linked +with the highest and lowest, the proudest and humblest in the Scottish +capital. Now, at mention of Auld Jock, Bobby put his shagged paws up +inquiringly on the edge of the pew, so that Mr. Traill lifted him. He +lay down flat between the two men, with his nose on his paws, and his +little tousled head under the Lord Provost's hand. + +Auld Jock lived again in that recital. Glenormiston, coming from the +country of the Ettrick shepherd, knew such lonely figures, and the +pathos of old age and waning powers that drove them in to the poor +quarters of towns. There was pictured the stormy night and the simple +old man who sought food and shelter, with the devoted little dog that +"wasna 'is ain." Sick unto death he was, and full of ignorant prejudices +and fears that needed wise handling. And there was the well-meaning +landlord's blunder, humbly confessed, and the obscure and tragic result +of it, in a foul and swarming rookery "juist aff the Coogate." + +"Man, it was Bobby that told me of his master's condition. He begged me +to help Auld Jock, and what did I do but let my fule tongue wag about +doctors. I nae more than turned my back than the auld body was awa' to +his meeserable death. It has aye eased my conscience a bit to feed the +dog." + +"That's not the only reason why you have fed him." There was a twinkle +in the Lord Provost's eye, and Mr. Traill blushed. + +"Weel, I'll admit to you that I'm fair fulish about Bobby. Man, I've +courted that sma' terrier for eight and a half years. He's as polite +and friendly as the deil, but he'll have naething to do with me or with +onybody. I wonder the intelligent bit doesn't bite me for the ill turn I +did his master." + +Then there was the story of Bobby's devotion to Auld Jock's memory to be +told--the days when he faced starvation rather than desert that grave, +the days when he lay cramped under the fallen table-tomb, and his +repeated, dramatic escapes from the Pentland farm. His never broken +silence in the kirkyard was only to be explained by the unforgotten +orders of his dead master. His intelligent effort to make himself useful +to the caretaker had won indulgence. His ready obedience, good temper, +high spirits and friendliness had made him the special pet of the +tenement children and the Heriot laddies. At the very last Mr. Traill +repeated the talk he had had with the non-commissioned officer from the +Castle, and confessed his own fear of some forlorn end for Bobby. It was +true he was nobody's dog; and he was fascinated by soldiers and military +music, and so, perhaps-- + +"I'll no' be reconciled to parting--Eh, man, that's what Auld Jock +himsel' said when he was telling me that the bit dog must be returned to +the sheep-farm: 'It wull be sair partin'.'" Tears stood in the unashamed +landlord's eyes. + +Glenormiston was pulling Bobby's silkily fringed ears thoughtfully. +Through all this talk about his dead master the little dog had not +stirred. For the second time that day Bobby's veil was pushed back, +first by the most unfortunate laddie in the decaying tenements about +Greyfriars, and now by the Lord Provost of the ancient royal burgh and +capital of Scotland. And both made the same discovery. Deep-brown pools +of love, young Bobby's eyes had dwelt upon Auld Jock. Pools of sad +memories they were now, looking out wistfully and patiently upon a +masterless world. + +"Are you thinking he would be reconciled to be anywhere away from that +grave? Look, man!" + +"Lord forgive me! I aye thought the wee doggie happy enough." + +After a moment the two men went down the gallery stairs in silence. +Bobby dropped from the bench and fell into a subdued trot at their +heels. As they left the cathedral by the door that led into High Street +Glenormiston remarked, with a mysterious smile: + +"I'm thinking Edinburgh can do better by wee Bobby than to banish him to +the Castle. But wait a bit, man. A kirk is not the place for settling a +small dog's affairs." + +The Lord Provost led the way westward along the cathedral's front. On +High Street, St. Giles had three doorways. The middle door then gave +admittance to the police office; the western opened into the Little +Kirk, popularly known as Haddo's Hole. It was into this bare, +whitewashed chapel that Glenormiston turned to get some restoration +drawings he had left on the pulpit. He was explaining them to Mr. Traill +when he was interrupted by a murmur and a shuffle, as of many voices and +feet, and an odd tap-tap-tapping in the vestibule. + +Of all the doorways on the north and south fronts of St. Giles the one +to the Little Kirk was nearest the end of George IV Bridge. Confused by +the vast size and imposing architecture of the old cathedral, these slum +children, in search of the police office, went no farther, but ventured +timidly into the open vestibule of Haddo's Hole. Any doubts they might +have had about this being the right place were soon dispelled. Bobby +heard them and darted out to investigate. And suddenly they were all +inside, overwrought Ailie on the floor, clasping the little dog and +crying hysterically. + +"Bobby's no' deid! Bobby's no' deid! Oh, Maister Traill, ye wullna hae +to gie 'im up to the police! Tammy's got the seven shullin's in 'is +bonnet!" + +And there was small Tammy, crutches dropped and pouring that offering +of love and mercy out at the foot of an altar in old St. Giles. Such an +astonishing pile of copper coins it was, that it looked to the landlord +like the loot of some shopkeeper's change drawer. + +"Eh, puir laddie, whaur did ye get it a' noo?" he asked, gravely. + +Tammy was very self-possessed and proud. "The bairnies aroond the +kirkyaird gie'd it to pay the police no' to mak' Bobby be deid." + +Mr. Traill flashed a glance at Glenormiston. It was a look at once of +triumph and of humility over the Herculean deed of these disinherited +children. But the Lord Provost was gazing at that crowd of pale bairns, +products of the Old Town's ancient slums, and feeling, in his own +person, the civic shame of it. And he was thinking, thinking, that he +must hasten that other project nearest his heart, of knocking holes in +solid rows of foul cliffs, in the Cowgate, on High Street, and around +Greyfriars. It was an incredible thing that such a flower of affection +should have bloomed so sweetly in such sunless cells. And it was a new +gospel, at that time, that a dog or a horse or a bird might have its +mission in this world of making people kinder and happier. + +They were all down on the floor, in the space before the altar, +unwashed, uncombed, unconscious of the dirty rags that scarce covered +them; quite happy and self-forgetful in the charming friskings and +friendly lollings of the well-fed, carefully groomed, beautiful little +dog. Ailie, still so excited that she forgot to be shy, put Bobby +through his pretty tricks. He rolled over and over, he jumped, he danced +to Tammy's whistling of "Bonnie Dundee," he walked on his hind legs and +louped at a bonnet, he begged, he lifted his short shagged paw and shook +hands. Then he sniffed at the heap of coins, looked up inquiringly at +Mr. Traill, and, concluding that here was some property to be guarded, +stood by the "siller" as stanchly as a soldier. It was just pure +pleasure to watch him. + +Very suddenly the Lord Provost changed his mind. A sacred kirk was the +very best place of all to settle this little dog's affairs. The offering +of these children could not be refused. It should lie there, below the +altar, and be consecrated to some other blessed work; and he would do +now and here what he had meant to do elsewhere and in a quite different +way. He lifted Bobby to the pulpit so that all might see him, and he +spoke so that all might understand. + +"Are ye kennin' what it is to gie the freedom o' the toon to grand +folk?" + +"It's--it's when the bonny Queen comes an' ye gie her the keys to the +burgh gates that are no' here ony mair." Tammy, being in Heriot's, was a +laddie of learning. + +"Weel done, laddie. Lang syne there was a wa' aroond Edinburgh wi' gates +in it." Oh yes, all these bairnies knew that, and the fragment of it +that was still to be seen outside and above the Grassmarket, with +its sentry tower by the old west port. "Gin a fey king or ither grand +veesitor cam', the Laird Provost an' the maigestrates gied 'im the keys +so he could gang in an' oot at 'is pleesure. The wa's are a' doon noo, +an' the gates no' here ony mair, but we hae the keys, an' we mak' a show +o' gien' 'em to veesitors wha are vera grand or wise or gude, or juist +usefu' by the ordinar'." + +"Maister Gladstane," said Tammy. + +"Ay, we honor the Queen's meenisters; an' Miss Nightingale, wha nursed +the soldiers i' the war; an' Leddy Burdett-Coutts, wha gies a' her +siller an' a' her heart to puir folk an' is aye kind to horses and dogs +an' singin' birdies; an' we gie the keys to heroes o' the war wha +are brave an' faithfu'. An' noo, there's a wee bit beastie. He's +weel-behavin', an' isna makin' a blatterin' i' an auld kirkyaird. He +aye minds what he's bidden to do. He's cheerfu' an' busy, keepin' the +proolin' pussies an' vermin frae the sma' birdies i' the nests. He mak's +friends o' ilka body, an' he's faithfu'. For a deid man he lo'ed he's +gaun hungry; an' he hasna forgotten 'im or left 'im by 'is lane at +nicht for mair years than some o' ye are auld. An' gin ye find 'im lyin' +canny, an' ye tak' a keek into 'is bonny brown een, ye can see he's aye +greetin'. An' so, ye didna ken why, but ye a' lo'ed the lanely wee--" + +"Bobby!" It was an excited breath of a word from the wide-eyed bairns. + +"Bobby! Havers! A bittie dog wadna ken what to do wi' keys." + +But Glenormiston was smiling, and these sharp witted slum bairns +exchanged knowing glances. "Whaur's that sma'--?" He dived into this +pocket and that, making a great pretense of searching, until he found a +narrow band of new leather, with holes in one end and a stout buckle +on the other, and riveted fast in the middle of it was a shining brass +plate. Tammy read the inscription aloud: + + GREYFRIARS BOBBY + + FROM THE LORD PROVOST + + 1867 Licensed + +The wonderful collar was passed from hand to hand in awed silence. The +children stared and stared at this white-haired and bearded man, who +"wasna grand ava," but who talked to them as simply and kindly as a +grandfaither. He went right on talking to them in his homely way to put +them at their ease, telling them that nobody at all, not even the bonny +Queen, could be more than kind and well-behaving and faithful to duty. +Wee Bobby was all that, and so "Gin dizzens an' dizzens o' bairns war +kennin' 'im, an' wad fetch seven shullin's i' their ha'pennies to a +kirk, they could buy the richt for the braw doggie to be leevin', the +care o' them a', i' the auld kirkyaird o' Greyfriars. An' he maun hae +the collar so the police wull ken 'im an' no' ever tak' 'im up for a +puir, gaen-aboot dog." + +The children quite understood the responsibility they assumed, and their +eyes shone with pride at the feeling that, if more fortunate friends +failed, this little creature must never be allowed to go hungry. And +when he came to die--oh, in a very, very few years, for they must +remember that "a doggie isna as lang-leevin' as folk"--they must not +forget that Bobby would not be permitted to be buried in the kirkyard. + +"We'll gie 'im a grand buryin'," said Tammy. "We'll find a green brae +by a babblin' burn aneath a snawy hawthorn, whaur the throstle sings an' +the blackbird whustles." For the crippled laddie had never forgotten Mr. +Traill's description of a proper picnic, and that must, indeed, be a wee +dog's heaven. + +"Ay, that wull do fair weel." The collar had come back to him by this +time, and the Lord Provost buckled it securely about Bobby's neck. + + + + +X. + +The music of bagpipe, fife and drum brought them all out of Haddo's Hole +into High Street. It was the hour of the morning drill, and the soldiers +were marching out of the Castle. From the front of St. Giles, that +jutted into the steep thoroughfare, they could look up to where the +street widened to the esplanade on Castle Hill. Rank after rank of +scarlet coats, swinging kilts and sporrans, and plumed bonnets appeared. +The sun flashed back from rifle barrels and bayonets and from countless +bright buttons. + +A number of the older laddies ran up the climbing street. Mr. Traill +called Bobby back and, with a last grip of Glenormiston's hand, set off +across the bridge. To the landlord the world seemed a brave place to be +living in, the fabric of earth and sky and human society to be woven of +kindness. Having urgent business of buying supplies in the markets at +Broughton and Lauriston, Mr. Traill put Bobby inside the kirkyard gate +and hurried away to get into his everyday clothing. After dinner, or +tea, he promised himself the pleasure of an hour at the lodge, to tell +Mr. Brown the wonderful news, and to show him Bobby's braw collar. + +When, finally, he was left alone, Bobby trotted around the kirk, to +assure himself that Auld Jock's grave was unmolested. There he turned +on his back, squirmed and rocked on the crocuses, and tugged at the +unaccustomed collar. His inverted struggles, low growlings and furry +contortions set the wrens to scolding and the redbreasts to making +nervous inquiries. Much nestbuilding, tuneful courtship, and masculine +blustering was going on, and there was little police duty for Bobby. +After a time he sat up on the table-tomb, pensively. With Mr. Brown +confined, to the lodge, and Mistress Jeanie in close attendance upon him +there, the kirkyard was a lonely place for a sociable little dog; and +a soft, spring day given over to brooding beside a beloved grave, was +quite too heart-breaking a thing to contemplate. Just for cheerful +occupation Bobby had another tussle with the collar. He pulled it so far +under his thatch that no one could have guessed that he had a collar on +at all, when he suddenly righted himself and scampered away to the gate. + +The music grew louder and came nearer. The first of the route-marching +that the Castle garrison practiced on occasional, bright spring +mornings was always a delightful surprise to the small boys and dogs +of Edinburgh. Usually the soldiers went down High Street and out to +Portobello on the sea. But a regiment of tough and wiry Highlanders +often took, by preference, the mounting road to the Pentlands to get a +whiff of heather in their nostrils. + +On they came, band playing, colors flying, feet moving in unison with a +march, across the viaduct bridge into Greyfriars Place. Bobby was up on +the wicket, his small, energetic body quivering with excitement from his +muzzle to his tail. If Mr. Traill had been there he would surely have +caught the infection, thrown care to this sweet April breeze for +once, and taken the wee terrier for a run on the Pentland braes. The +temptation was going by when a preoccupied lady, with a sheaf of Easter +lilies on her sable arm, opened the wicket. Her ample Victorian skirts +swept right over the little dog, and when he emerged there was the gate +slightly ajar. Widening the aperture with nose and paws, Bobby was off, +skirmishing at large on the rear and flanks of the troops, down the +Burghmuir. + +It may never have happened, in the years since Auld Jock died and the +farmer of Cauldbrae gave up trying to keep him on the hills, that Bobby, +had gone so far back on this once familiar road; and he may not +have recognized it at first, for the highways around Edinburgh were +everywhere much alike. This one alone began to climb again. Up, up it +toiled, for two weary miles, to the hilltop toll-bar of Fairmilehead, +and there the sounds and smells that made it different from other roads +began. + +Five miles out of the city the halt was called, and the soldiers flung +themselves on the slope. Many experiences of route-marching had taught +Bobby that there was an interval of rest before the return, so, with +his nose to the ground, he started up the brae on a pilgrimage to old +shrines, just as in his puppyhood days, at Auld Jock's heels, there was +much shouting of men, barking of collies, and bleating of sheep all the +way up. Once he had to leave the road until a driven flock had passed. +Behind the sheep walked an old laborer in hodden-gray, woolen bonnet, +and shepherd's two-fold plaid, with a lamb in the pouch of it. Bobby +trembled at the apparition, sniffed at the hob-nailed boots, and then, +with drooped head and tail, trotted on up the slope. + +Men and dogs were all out on the billowy pastures, and the farm-house +of Cauldbrae lay on the level terrace, seemingly deserted and steeped in +memories. A few moments before, a tall lassie had come out to listen +to the military music. A couple of hundred feet below, the coats of the +soldiers looked to her like poppies scattered on the heather. At the +top of the brae the wind was blowing a cold gale, so the maidie went up +again, and around to a bit of tangled garden on the sheltered side of +the house. The "wee lassie Elsie" was still a bairn in short skirts +and braids, who lavished her soft heart, as yet, on briar bushes and +daisies. + +Bobby made a tour of the sheepfold, the cowyard and byre, and he +lingered behind the byre, where Auld Jock had played with him on Sabbath +afternoons. He inspected the dairy, and the poultry-house where hens +were sitting on their nests. By and by he trotted around the house and +came upon the lassie, busily clearing winter rubbish from her posie bed. +A dog changes very little in appearance, but in eight and a half years a +child grows into a different person altogether. Bobby barked politely to +let this strange lassie know that he was there. In the next instant he +knew her, for she whirled about and, in a kind of glad wonder, cried +out: + +"Oh, Bobby! hae ye come hame? Mither, here's ma ain wee Bobby!" For she +had never given up the hope that this adored little pet would some day +return to her. + +"Havers, lassie, ye're aye seein' Bobby i' ilka Hielan' terrier, an' +there's mony o' them aboot." + +The gude-wife looked from an attic window in the steep gable, and then +hurried down. "Weel, noo, ye're richt, Elsie. He wad be comin' wi' the +regiment frae the Castle. Bittie doggies an' laddies are fair daft aboot +the soldiers. Ay, he's bonny, an' weel cared for, by the ordinar'. I +wonder gin he's still leevin' i' the grand auld kirkyaird." + +Wary of her remembered endearments, Bobby kept a safe distance from the +maidie, but he sat up and lolled his tongue, quite willing to pay her a +friendly visit. From that she came to a wrong conclusion: "Sin' he cam' +o' his ain accord he's like to bide." Her eyes were blue stars. + +"I wadna be coontin' on that, lassie. An' I wadna speck a door on 'im +anither time. Grin he wanted to get oot he'd dig aneath a floor o' +stane. Leuk at that, noo! The bonny wee is greetin' for Auld Jock." + +It was true, for, on entering the kitchen, Bobby went straight to the +bench in the corner and lay down flat under it. Elsie sat beside him, +just as she had done of old. Her eyes overflowed so in sympathy that the +mother was quite distracted. This would not do at all. + +"Lassie, are ye no' rememberin' Bobby was fair fond o' moor-hens' eggs +fried wi' bits o' cheese? He wullna be gettin' thae things; an' it wad +be maist michty, noo, gin ye couldna win the bittie dog awa' frae the +reekie auld toon. Gang oot wi' 'im an' rin on the brae an' bid 'im find +the nests aneath the whins." + +In a moment they were out on the heather, and it seemed, indeed, as +if Bobby might be won. He frisked and barked at Elsie's heels, chased +rabbits and flushed the grouse; and when he ran into a peat-darkened +tarp, rimmed with moss, he had such a cold and splashy swim as quite to +give a little dog a distaste for warm, soapy water in a claes tub. He +shook and ran himself dry, and he raced the laughing child until they +both dropped panting on the wind-rippled heath. Then he hunted on the +ground under the gorse for those nests that had a dozen or more eggs in +them. He took just one from each in his mouth, as Auld Jock had taught +him to do. On the kitchen hearth he ate the savory meal with much +satisfaction and polite waggings. But when the bugle sounded from below +to form ranks, he pricked his drop ears and started for the door. + +Before he knew what had happened he was inside the poultry-house. In +another instant he was digging frantically in the soft earth under the +door. When the lassie lay down across the crack he stopped digging, in +consternation. His sense of smell told him what it was that shut out the +strip of light; and a bairn's soft body is not a proper object of attack +for a little dog, no matter how desperate the emergency. There was no +time to be lost, for the drums began to beat the march. Having to get +out very quickly, Bobby did a forbidden thing: swiftly and noisily he +dashed around the dark place, and there arose such wild squawkings and +rushings of wings as to bring the gude-wife out of the house in alarm. + +"Lassie, I canna hae the bittie dog in wi the broodin' chuckies!" + +She flung the door wide. Bobby shot through, and into Elsie's +outstretched arms. She held to him desperately, while he twisted and +struggled and strained away; and presently something shining worked into +view, through the disordered thatch about his neck. The mother had come +to the help of the child, and it was she who read the inscription on the +brazen plate aloud. + +"Preserve us a'! Lassie, he's been tak'n by the Laird Provost an' gien +the name o' the auld kirkyaird. He's an ower grand doggie. Ma puir +bairnie, dinna greet so sair!" For the little girl suddenly released the +wee Highlander and sobbed on her mother's shoulder. + +"He isna ma ain Bobby ony mair!" She "couldna thole" to watch him as he +tumbled down the brae. + +On the outward march, among the many dogs and laddies that had +followed the soldiers, Bobby escaped notice. But most of these had gone +adventuring in Swanston Dell, to return to the city by the gorge of +Leith Water. Now, traveling three miles to the soldiers' one, scampering +in wide circles over the fields, swimming burns, scrambling under +hedges, chasing whaups into piping cries, barking and louping in +pure exuberance of spirits, many eyes looked upon him admiringly, and +discontented mouths turned upward at the corners. It is not the least +of a little dog's missions in life to communicate his own irresponsible +gaiety to men. + +If the return had been over George IV Bridge Bobby would, no doubt, have +dropped behind at Mr. Traill's or at the kirkyard. But on the Burghmuir +the troops swung eastward until they rounded Arthur's Seat and met +the cavalry drilling before the barracks at Piershill. Such pretty +maneuvering of horse and foot took place below Holyrood Palace as quite +to enrapture a terrier. When the infantry marched up the Canongate and +High Street, the mounted men following and the bands playing at full +blast, the ancient thoroughfare was quickly lined with cheering +crowds, and faces looked down from ten tiers of windows on a beautiful +spectacle. Bobby did not know when the bridge-approach was passed; and +then, on Castle Hill, he was in an unknown region. There the street +widened to the great square of the esplanade. The cavalry wheeled and +dashed down High Street, but the infantry marched on and up, over the +sounding drawbridge that spanned a dry moat of the Middle Ages, and +through a deep-arched gateway of masonry. + +The outer gate to the Castle was wider than the opening into many an +Edinburgh wynd; but Bobby stopped, uncertain as to where this narrow +roadway, that curved upward to the right, might lead. It was not a dark +fissure in a cliff of houses, but was bounded on the outer side by a +loopholed wall, and on the inner by a rocky ledge of ascending levels. +Wherever the shelf was of sufficient breadth a battery of cannon was +mounted, and such a flood of light fell from above and flashed +on polished steel and brass as to make the little dog blink in +bewilderment. And he whirled like a rotary sweeper in the dusty road and +yelped when the time-gun, in the half-moon battery at the left of the +gate and behind him, crashed and shook the massive rock. + +He barked and barked, and dashed toward the insulting clamor. The +dauntless little dog and his spirited protest were so out of proportion +to the huge offense that the guard laughed, and other soldiers ran out +of the guard houses that flanked the gate. They would have put the noisy +terrier out at once, but Bobby was off, up the curving roadway into the +Castle. The music had ceased, and the soldiers had disappeared over the +rise. Through other dark arches of masonry he ran. On the crest were +two ways to choose--the roadway on around and past the barracks, and a +flight of steps cut steeply in the living rock of the ledge, and leading +up to the King's Bastion. Bobby took the stairs at a few bounds. + +On the summit there was nothing at all beside a tiny, ancient stone +chapel with a Norman arched and sculptured doorway, and guarding it +an enormous burst cannon. But these ruins were the crown jewels of the +fortifications--their origins lost in legends--and so they were cared +for with peculiar reverence. Sergeant Scott of the Royal Engineers +himself, in fatigue-dress, was down on his knees before St. Margaret's +oratory, pulling from a crevice in the foundations a knot of grass that +was at its insidious work of time and change. As Bobby dashed up to the +citadel, still barking, the man jumped to his feet. Then he slapped his +thigh and laughed. Catching the animated little bundle of protest the +sergeant set him up for inspection on the shattered breeching of Mons +Meg. + +"Losh! The sma' dog cam' by 'is ainsel'! He could no' resist the braw +soldier laddies. 'He's a dog o' discreemination,' eh? Gin he bides a +wee, noo, it wull tak' the conceit oot o' the innkeeper." He turned to +gather up his tools, for the first dinner bugle was blowing. Bobby knew +by the gun that it was the dinner-hour, but he had been fed at the farm +and was not hungry. He might as well see a bit more of life. He sat +upon the cannon, not in the least impressed by the honor, and lolled his +tongue. + +In Edinburgh Castle there was nothing to alarm a little dog. A dozen +or more large buildings, in three or four groups, and representing +many periods of architecture, lay to the south and west on the lowest +terraces, and about them were generous parked spaces. Into the largest +of the buildings, a long, four-storied barracks, the soldiers had +vanished. And now, at the blowing of a second bugle, half a hundred +orderlies hurried down from a modern cook-house, near the summit, with +cans of soup and meat and potatoes. The sergeant followed one of these +into a room on the front of the barracks. In their serge fatigue-tunics +the sixteen men about the long table looked as different from the gay +soldiers of the march as though so many scarlet and gold and bonneted +butterflies had turned back into sad-colored grubs. + +"Private McLean," he called to his batman who, for one-and-six a week, +cared for his belongings, "tak' chairge o' the dog, wull ye, an' fetch +'im to the non-com mess when ye come to put ma kit i' gude order." + +Before he could answer the bombardment of questions about Bobby the door +was opened again. The men dropped their knives and forks and stood at +attention. The officer of the day was making the rounds of the forty +or fifty such rooms in the barracks to inquire of the soldiers if their +dinner was satisfactory. He recognized at once the attractive little +Skye that had taken the eyes of the men on the march, and asked about +him. Sergeant Scott explained that Bobby had no owner. He was living, by +permission, in Greyfriars kirkyard, guarding the grave of a long-dead, +humble master, and was fed by the landlord of the dining-rooms near the +gate. If the little dog took a fancy to garrison life, and the regiment +to him, he thought Mr. Traill, who had the best claim upon him, might +consent to his transfer to the Castle. After orders, at sunset, he would +take Bobby down to the restaurant himself. + +"I wish you good luck, Sergeant." The officer whistled, and Bobby leaped +upon him and off again, and indulged in many inconsequent friskings. +"Before you take him home fetch him over to the officers' mess at +dinner. It is guest night, and he is sure to interest the gentlemen. A +loyal little creature who has guarded his dead master's grave for more +than eight years deserves to have a toast drunk to him by the officers +of the Queen. But it's an extraordinary story, and it doesn't sound +altogether probable. Jolly little beggar!" He patted Bobby cordially on +the side, and went out. + +The news of his advent and fragments of his story spread so quickly +through the barracks that mess after mess swarmed down from the upper +moors and out into the roadway to see Bobby. Private McLean stood in the +door, smoking a cutty pipe, and grinning with pride in the merry little +ruffian of a terrier, who met the friendly advances of the soldiers more +than half-way. Bobby's guardian would have liked very well to have +sat before the canteen in the sun and gossiped about his small charge. +However, in the sergeant's sleeping-quarters above the mess-room, he had +the little dog all to himself, and Bobby had the liveliest interest +in the boxes and pots, brushes and sponges, and in the processes of +polishing, burnishing, and pipe-claying a soldier's boots and buttons +and belts. As he worked at his valeting, the man kept time with his foot +to rude ballads that he sang in such a hissing Celtic that Bobby +barked, scandalized by a dialect that had been music in the ears of his +ancestors. At that Private McLean danced a Highland fling for him, and +wee Bobby came near bursting with excitement. When the sergeant came up +to make a magnificent toilet for tea and for the evening in town, the +soldier expressed himself with enthusiasm. + +"He iss a deffle of a dog, sir!" + +He was thought to be a "deffle of a dog" in the mess, where the non-com +officers had tea at small writing and card tables. They talked and +laughed very fast and loud, tried Bobby out on all the pretty tricks he +knew, and taught him to speak and to jump for a lump of sugar balanced +on his nose. They did not fondle him, and this rough, masculine style of +pampering and petting was very much to his liking. It was a proud thing, +too, for a little dog, to walk out with the sergeant's shining boots +and twirled walkingstick, and be introduced into one strange place after +another all around the Castle. + +From tea to tattoo was playtime for the garrison. Many smartly dressed +soldiers, with passes earned by good behavior, went out to find +amusement in the city. Visitors, some of them tourists from America, +made the rounds under the guidance of old soldiers. The sergeant +followed such a group of sight-seers through a postern behind the armory +and out onto the cliff. There he lounged under a fir-tree above St. +Margaret's Well and smoked a dandified cigar, while Bobby explored the +promenade and scraped acquaintance with the strangers. + +On the northern and southern sides the Castle wall rose from the very +edge of sheer precipices. Except for loopholes there were no openings. +But on the west there was a grassy terrace without the wall, and below +that the cliff fell away a little less steeply. The declivity was +clothed sparsely with hazel shrubs, thorns, whins and thistles; and now +and then a stunted fir or rowan tree or a group of white-stemmed birks +was stoutly rooted on a shelving ledge. Had any one, the visitors asked, +ever escaped down this wild crag? + +Yes, Queen Margaret's children, the guide answered. Their father dead, +in battle, their saintly mother dead in the sanctuary of her tiny +chapel, the enemy battering at the gate, soldiers had lowered the royal +lady's body in a basket, and got the orphaned children down, in safety +and away, in a fog, over Queen's Ferry to Dunfirmline in the Kingdom +of Fife. It was true that a false step or a slip of the foot would +have dashed them to pieces on the rocks below. A gentleman of the party +scouted the legend. Only a fox or an Alpine chamois could make that +perilous descent. + +With his head cocked alertly, Bobby had stood listening. Hearing this +vague talk of going down, he may have thought these people meant to go, +for he quietly dropped over the edge and went, head over heels, ten feet +down, and landed in a clump of hazel. A lady screamed. Bobby righted +himself and barked cheerful reassurance. The sergeant sprang to his feet +and ordered him to come back. + +Now, the sergeant was pleasant company, to be sure; but he was not a +person who had to be obeyed, so Bobby barked again, wagged his crested +tail, and dropped lower. The people who shuddered on the brink could see +that the little dog was going cautiously enough; and presently he looked +doubtfully over a sheer fall of twenty feet, turned and scrambled back +to the promenade. He was cried and exclaimed over by the hysterical +ladies, and scolded for a bittie fule by the sergeant. To this Bobby +returned ostentatious yawns of boredom and nonchalant lollings, for +it seemed a small matter to be so fashed about. At that a gentleman +remarked, testily, to hide his own agitation, that dogs really had very +little sense. The sergeant ordered Bobby to precede him through the +postern, and the little dog complied amiably. + +All the afternoon bugles had been blowing. For each signal there was a +different note, and at each uniformed men appeared and hurried to new +points. Now, near sunset, there was the fanfare for officers' orders for +the next day. The sergeant put Bobby into Queen Margaret's Chapel, bade +him remain there, and went down to the Palace Yard. The chapel on the +summit was a convenient place for picking the little dog up on his way +to the officers' mess. Then he meant to have his own supper cozily at +Mr. Traill's and to negotiate for Bobby. + +A dozen people would have crowded this ancient oratory, but, small as +it was, it was fitted with a chancel rail and a font for baptizing the +babies born in the Castle. Through the window above the altar, where the +sainted Queen was pictured in stained glass, the sunlight streamed and +laid another jeweled image on the stone floor. Then the colors faded, +until the holy place became an austere cell. The sun had dropped behind +the western Highlands. + +Bobby thought it quite time to go home. By day he often went far +afield, seeking distraction, but at sunset he yearned for the grave in +Greyfriars. The steps up which he had come lay in plain view from the +doorway of the chapel. Bobby dropped down the stairs, and turned into +the main roadway of the Castle. At the first arch that spanned it a +red-coated guard paced on the other side of a closed gate. It would +not be locked until tattoo, at nine thirty, but, without a pass, no one +could go in or out. Bobby sprang on the bars and barked, as much as to +say: "Come awa', man, I hae to get oot." + +The guard stopped, presented arms to this small, peremptory terrier, +and inquired facetiously if he had a pass. Bobby bristled and yelped +indignantly. The soldier grinned with amusement. Sentinel duty was +lonesome business, and any diversion a relief. In a guardhouse asleep +when Bobby came into the Castle, he had not seen the little dog before +and knew nothing about him. He might be the property of one of the +regiment ladies. Without orders he dared not let Bobby out. A furious +and futile onslaught on the gate he met with a jocose feint of his +bayonet. Tiring of the play, presently, the soldier turned his back and +paced to the end of his beat. + +Bobby stopped barking in sheer astonishment. He gazed after the stiff, +retreating back, in frightened disbelief that he was not to be let out. +He attacked the stone under the barrier, but quickly discovered its +unyielding nature. Then he howled until the sentinel came back, but when +the man went by without looking at him he uttered a whimpering cry and +fled upward. The roadway was dark and the dusk was gathering on the +citadel when Bobby dashed across the summit and down into the brightly +lighted square of the Palace Yard. + +The gas-lamps were being lighted on the bridge, and Mr. Traill was +getting into his streetcoat for his call on Mr. Brown when Tammy put his +head in at the door of the restaurant. The crippled laddie had a warm, +uplifted look, for Love had touched the sordid things of life, and a +miracle had bloomed for the tenement dwellers around Greyfriars. + +"Maister Traill, Mrs. Brown says wull ye please send Bobby hame. Her +gude-mon's frettin' for 'im; an' syne, a' the folk aroond the kirkyaird +hae come to the gate to see the bittie dog's braw collar. They wullna +believe the Laird Provost gied it to 'im for a chairm gin they dinna see +it wi' their gin een." + +"Why, mannie, Bobby's no' here. He must be in the kirkyard." + +"Nae, he isna. I ca'ed, an' Ailie keeked in ilka place amang the +stanes." + +They stared at each other, the landlord serious, the laddie's lip +trembling. Mr. Traill had not returned from his numerous errands about +the city until the middle of the afternoon. He thought, of course, that +Bobby had been in for his dinner, as usual, and had returned to the +kirkyard. It appeared, now, that no one about the diningrooms had seen +the little dog. Everybody had thought that Mr. Traill had taken Bobby +with him. He hurried down to the gate to find Mistress Jeanie at the +wicket, and a crowd of tenement women and children in the alcove and +massed down Candlemakers Row. Alarm spread like a contagion. In eight +years and more Bobby had not been outside the kirkyard gate after the +sunset bugle. Mrs. Brown turned pale. + +"Dinna say the bittie dog's lost, Maister Traill. It wad gang to the +heart o' ma gudemon." + +"Havers, woman, he's no' lost." Mr. Traill spoke stoutly enough. "Just +go up to the lodge and tell Mr. Brown I'm--weel, I'll just attend to +that sma' matter my ainsel'." With that he took a gay face and a set-up +air into the lodge to meet Mr. Brown's glowering eye. + +"Whaur's the dog, man? I've been deaved aboot 'im a' the day, but I +haena seen the sonsie rascal nor the braw collar the Laird Provost gied +'im. An' syne, wi' the folk comin' to spier for 'im an' swarmin' ower +the kirkyaird, ye'd think a warlock was aboot. Bobby isna your dog--" + +"Haud yoursel', man. Bobby's a famous dog, with the freedom of Edinburgh +given to him, and naething will do but Glenormiston must show him to a +company o' grand folk at his bit country place. He's sending in a cart +by a groom, and I'm to tak' Bobby out and fetch him hame after a braw +dinner on gowd plate. The bairns meant weel, but they could no' give +Bobby a washing fit for a veesit with the nobeelity. I had to tak' him +to a barber for a shampoo." + +Mr. Brown roared with laughter. "Man, ye hae mair fule notions i' yer +heid. Ye'll hae to pay a shullin' or twa to a barber, an' Bobby'll be +sae set up there'll be nae leevin' wi' 'im. Sit ye doon an' tell me +aboot the collar, man." + +"I can no' stop now to wag my tongue. Here's the gude-wife. I'll just +help her get you awa' to your bed." + +It was dark when he returned to the gate, and the Castle wore its +luminous crown. The lights from the street lamps flickered on the +up-turned, anxious faces. Some of the children had begun to weep. Women +offered loud suggestions. There were surmises that Bobby had been run +over by a cart in the street, and angry conjectures that he had been +stolen. Then Ailie wailed: + +"Oh, Maister Traill, the bittie dog's deid!" + +"Havers, lassie! I'm ashamed o' ye for a fulish bairn. Bobby's no' deid. +Nae doot he's amang the stanes i' the kirkyaird. He's aye scramblin' +aboot for vermin an' pussies, an' may hae hurt himsel', an' ye a' ken +the bonny wee wadna cry oot i' the kirkyaird. Noo, get to wark, an' +dinna stand there greetin' an' waggin' yer tongues. The mithers an' +bairns maun juist gang hame an' stap their havers, an' licht a' the +candles an' cruisey lamps i' their hames, an' set them i' the windows +aboon the kirkyaird. Greyfriars is murky by the ordinar', an' ye couldna +find a coo there wi'oot the lichts." + +The crowd suddenly melted away, so eager were they all to have a hand in +helping to find the community pet. Then Mr. Traill turned to the boys. + +"Hoo mony o' ye laddies hae the bull's-eye lanterns?" + +Ah! not many in the old buildings around the kirkyard. These japanned +tin aids to dark adventures on the golf links on autumn nights cost a +sixpence and consumed candles. Geordie Ross and Sandy McGregor, coming +up arm in arm, knew of other students and clerks who still had these +cherished toys of boyhood. With these heroes in the lead a score or more +of laddies swarmed into the kirkyard. + +The tenements were lighted up as they had not been since nobles held +routs and balls there. Enough candles and oil were going up in smoke +to pay for wee Bobby's license all over again, and enough love shone +in pallid little faces that peered into the dusk to light the darkest +corner in the heart of the world. Rays from the bull's-eyes were thrown +into every nook and cranny. Very small laddies insinuated themselves +into the narrowest places. They climbed upon high vaults and let +themselves down in last year's burdocks and tangled vines. It was all +done in silence, only Mr. Traill speaking at all. He went everywhere +with the searchers, and called: + +"Whaur are ye, Bobby? Come awa' oot, laddie!" + +But no gleaming ghost of a tousled dog was conjured by the voice of +affection. The tiniest scratching or lowest moaning could have been +heard, for the warm spring evening was very still, and there were, as +yet, few leaves to rustle. Sleepy birds complained at being disturbed +on their perches, and rodents could be heard scampering along their +runways. The entire kirkyard was explored, then the interior of the +two kirks. Mr. Traill went up to the lodge for the keys, saying, +optimistically, that a sexton might unwittingly have locked Bobby in. +Young men with lanterns went through the courts of the tenements, around +the Grassmarket, and under the arches of the bridge. Laddies dropped +from the wall and hunted over Heriot's Hospital grounds to Lauriston +market. Tammy, poignantly conscious of being of no practical use, sat +on Auld Jock's grave, firm in the conviction that Bobby would return to +that spot his ainsel' And Ailie, being only a maid, whose portion it +was to wait and weep, lay across the window-sill, on the pediment of the +tomb, a limp little figure of woe. + +Mr. Traill's heart was full of misgiving. Nothing but death or stone +walls could keep that little creature from this beloved grave. But, in +thinking of stone walls, he never once thought of the Castle. Away over +to the east, in Broughton market, when the garrison marched away and at +Lauriston when they returned, Mr. Traill did not know that the soldiers +had been out of the city. Busy in the lodge Mistress Jeanie had not seen +them go by the kirkyard, and no one else, except Mr. Brown, knew the +fascination that military uniforms, marching and music had for wee +Bobby. A fog began to drift in from the sea. Suddenly the grass was +sheeted and the tombs blurred. A curtain of gauze seemed to be hung +before the lighted tenements. The Castle head vanished, and the sounds +of the drum and bugle of the tattoo came down muffled, as if through +layers of wool. The lights of the bull's-eyes were ruddy discs that cast +no rays. Then these were smeared out to phosphorescent glows, like the +"spunkies" that everybody in Scotland knew came out to dance in old +kirkyards. + +It was no' canny. In the smother of the fog some of the little boys were +lost, and cried out. Mr. Traill got them up to the gate and sent them +home in bands, under the escort of the students. Mistress Jeanie was out +by the wicket. Mr. Brown was asleep, and she "couldna thole it to +sit there snug." When a fog-horn moaned from the Firth she broke into +sobbing. Mr. Traill comforted her as best he could by telling her a +dozen plans for the morning. By feeling along the wall he got her to the +lodge, and himself up to his cozy dining-rooms. + +For the first time since Queen Mary the gate of the historic garden of +the Greyfriars was left on the latch. And it was so that a little dog, +coming home in the night might not be shut out. + + + + +XI. + +It was more than two hours after he left Bobby in Queen Margaret's +Chapel that the sergeant turned into the officers' mess-room and tried +to get an orderly to take a message to the captain who had noticed the +little dog in the barracks. He wished to report that Bobby could not be +found, and to be excused to continue the search. + +He had to wait by the door while the toast to her Majesty was proposed +and the band in the screened gallery broke into "God Save the Queen"; +and when the music stopped the bandmaster came in for the usual +compliments. + +The evening was so warm and still, although it was only mid-April, that +a glass-paneled door, opening on the terrace, was set ajar for air. In +the confusion of movement and talk no one noticed a little black mop of +a muzzle that was poked through the aperture. From the outer darkness +Bobby looked in on the score or more of men doubtfully, ready for +instant disappearance on the slightest alarm. Desperate was the +emergency, forlorn the hope that had brought him there. At every turn +his efforts to escape from the Castle had been baffled. He had been +imprisoned by drummer boys and young recruits in the gymnasium, detained +in the hospital, captured in the canteen. + +Bobby went through all his pretty tricks for the lads, and then begged +to be let go. Laughed at, romped with, dragged back, thrown into the +swimming-pool, expected to play and perform for them, he rebelled at +last. He scarred the door with his claws, and he howled so dismally +that, hearing an orderly corporal coming, they turned him out in a rough +haste that terrified him. In the old Banqueting Hall on the Palace +Yard, that was used as a hospital and dispensary, he went through that +travesty of joy again, in hope of the reward. + +Sharply rebuked and put out of the hospital, at last, because of his +destructive clawing and mournful howling, Bobby dashed across the +Palace Yard and into a crowd of good-humored soldiers who lounged in the +canteen. Rising on his hind legs to beg for attention and indulgence, he +was taken unaware from behind by an admiring soldier who wanted to romp +with him. Quite desperate by that time, he snapped at the hand of his +captor and sprang away into the first dark opening. Frightened by +the man's cry of pain, and by the calls and scuffling search for him +without, he slunk to the farthest corner of a dungeon of the Middle +Ages, under the Royal Lodging. + +When the hunt for him ceased, Bobby slipped out of hiding and made his +way around the sickle-shaped ledge of rock, and under the guns of the +half-moon battery, to the outer gate. Only a cat, a fox, or a low, +weasel-like dog could have done it. There were many details that would +have enabled the observant little creature to recognize this barrier as +the place where he had come in. Certainly he attacked it with fury, and +on the guards he lavished every art of appeal that he possessed. But +there he was bantered, and a feint was made of shutting him up in the +guard-house as a disorderly person. With a heart-broken cry he escaped +his tormentors, and made his way back, under the guns, to the citadel. + +His confidence in the good intentions of men shaken, Bobby took to +furtive ways. Avoiding lighted buildings and voices, he sped from shadow +to shadow and explored the walls of solid masonry. Again and again he +returned to the postern behind the armory, but the small back gate that +gave to the cliff was not opened. Once he scrambled up to a loophole in +the fortifications and looked abroad at the scattered lights of the city +set in the void of night. But there, indeed, his stout heart failed him. + +It was not long before Bobby discovered that he was being pursued. A +number of soldiers and drummer boys were out hunting for him, contritely +enough, when the situation was explained by the angry sergeant. Wherever +he went voices and footsteps followed. Had the sergeant gone alone and +called in familiar speech, "Come awa' oot, Bobby!" he would probably +have run to the man. But there were so many calls--in English, in +Celtic, and in various dialects of the Lowlands--that the little dog +dared not trust them. From place to place he was driven by fear, and +when the calling stopped and the footsteps no longer followed, he lay +for a time where he could watch the postern. A moment after he gave up +the vigil there the little back gate was opened. + +Desperation led him to take another chance with men. Slipping into the +shadow of the old Governor's House, the headquarters of commissioned +officers, on the terrace above the barracks, he lay near the open door +to the mess-room, listening and watching. + +The pretty ceremony of toasting the bandmaster brought all the company +about the table again, and the polite pause in the conversation, on his +exit, gave an opportunity for the captain to speak of Bobby before the +sergeant could get his message delivered. + +"Gentlemen, your indulgence for a moment, to drink another toast to +a little dog that is said to have slept on his master's grave in +Greyfriars churchyard for more than eight years. Sergeant Scott, of the +Royal Engineers, vouches for the story and will present the hero." + +The sergeant came forward then with the word that Bobby could not be +found. He was somewhere in the Castle, and had made persistent and +frantic efforts to get out. Prevented at every turn, and forcibly held +in various places by well-meaning but blundering soldiers, he had been +frightened into hiding. + +Bobby heard every word, and he must have understood that he himself was +under discussion. Alternately hopeful and apprehensive, he scanned +each face in the room that came within range of his vision, until one +arrested and drew him. Such faces, full of understanding, love and +compassion for dumb animals, are to be found among men, women and +children, in any company and in every corner of the world. Now, with +the dog's instinct for the dog-lover, Bobby made his way about the room +unnoticed, and set his short, shagged paws up on this man's knee. + +"Bless my soul, gentlemen, here's the little dog now, and a beautiful +specimen of the drop-eared Skye he is. Why didn't you say that the +'bittie' dog was of the Highland breed, Sergeant? You may well believe +any extravagant tale you may hear of the fidelity and affection of the +Skye terrier." + +And with that wee Bobby was set upon the polished table, his own silver +image glimmering among the reflections of candles and old plate. He +kept close under the hand of his protector, but waiting for the moment +favorable to his appeal. The company crowded around with eager interest, +while the man of expert knowledge and love of dogs talked about Bobby. + +"You see he's a well-knit little rascal, long and low, hardy and strong. +His ancestors were bred for bolting foxes and wildcats among the rocky +headlands of the subarctic islands. The intelligence, courage and +devotion of dogs of this breed can scarcely be overstated. There is some +far away crossing here that gives this one a greater beauty and grace +and more engaging manners, making him a 'sport' among rough farm +dogs--but look at the length and strength of the muzzle. He's as +determined as the deil. You would have to break his neck before you +could break his purpose. For love of his master he would starve, or he +would leap to his death without an instant's hesitation." + +All this time the man had been stroking Bobby's head and neck. Now, +feeling the collar under the thatch, he slipped it out and brought the +brass plate up to the light. + +"Propose your toast to Greyfriars Bobby, Captain. His story is vouched +for by no less a person than the Lord Provost. The 'bittie' dog seems to +have won a sort of canine Victoria Cross." + +The toast was drunk standing, and, a cheer given. The company pressed +close to examine the collar and to shake Bobby's lifted paw. Then, +thinking the moment had come, Bobby rose in the begging attitude, +prostrated himself before them, and uttered a pleading cry. His new +friend assured him that he would be taken home. + +"Bide a wee, Bobby. Before he goes I want you all to see his beautiful +eyes. In most breeds of dogs with the veil you will find the hairs of +the face discolored by tears, but the Skye terrier's are not, and +his eyes are living jewels, as sunny a brown as cairngorms in pebble +brooches, but soft and deep and with an almost human intelligence." + +For the third time that day Bobby's veil was pushed back. One shocked +look by this lover of dogs, and it was dropped. "Get him back to that +grave, man, or he's like to die. His eyes are just two cairngorms of +grief." + +In the hush that fell upon the company the senior officer spoke sharply: +"Take him down at once, Sergeant. The whole affair is most unfortunate, +and you will please tender my apologies at the churchyard and the +restaurant, as well as your own, and I will see the Lord Provost." + +The military salute was given to Bobby when he leaped from the table at +the sergeant's call: "Come awa', Bobby. I'll tak' ye to Auld Jock i' the +kirkyaird noo." + +He stepped out onto the lawn to wait for his pass. Bobby stood at his +feet, quivering with impatience to be off, but trusting in the man's +given word. The upper air was clear, and the sky studded with stars. +Twenty minutes before the May Light, that guided the ships into the +Firth, could be seen far out on the edge of the ocean, and in every +direction the lamps of the city seemed to fall away in a shower of +sparks, as from a burst meteor. But now, while the stars above were as +numerous and as brilliant as before, the lights below had vanished. As +the sergeant looked, the highest ones expired in the rising fog. The +Island Rock appeared to be sinking in a waveless sea of milk. + +A startled exclamation from the sergeant brought other men out on the +terrace to see it. The senior officer withheld the pass in his hand, and +scouted the idea of the sergeant's going down into the city. As the drum +began to beat the tattoo and the bugle to rise on a crescendo of lovely +notes, soldiers swarmed toward the barracks. Those who had been out in +the town came running up the roadway into the Castle, talking loudly of +adventures they had had in the fog. The sergeant looked down at anxious +Bobby, who stood agitated and straining as at a leash, and said that he +preferred to go. + +"Impossible! A foolish risk, Sergeant, that I am unwilling you should +take. Edinburgh is too full of pitfalls for a man to be going about on +such a night. Our guests will sleep in the Castle, and it will be safer +for the little dog to remain until morning." + +Bobby did not quite understand this good English, but the excited talk +and the delay made him uneasy. He whimpered piteously. He lay across +the sergeant's feet, and through his boots the man could feel the little +creature's heart beat. Then he rose and uttered his pleading cry. The +sergeant stooped and patted the shaggy head consolingly, and tried to +explain matters. + +"Be a gude doggie noo. Dinna fash yersel' aboot what canna be helped. I +canna tak' ye to the kirkyaird the nicht." + +"I'll take charge of Bobby, Sergeant." The dog-loving guest ran out +hastily, but, with a wild cry of reproach and despair, Bobby was gone. + +The group of soldiers who had been out on the cliff were standing in the +postern a moment to look down at the opaque flood that was rising around +the rock. They felt some flying thing sweep over their feet and caught a +silvery flash of it across the promenade. The sergeant cried to them to +stop the dog, and he and the guest were out in time to see Bobby go over +the precipice. + +For a time the little dog lay in a clump of hazel above the fog, between +two terrors. He could see the men and the lights moving along the top +of the cliff, and he could hear the calls. Some one caught a glimpse of +him, and the sergeant lay down on the edge of the precipice and talked +to him, saying every kind and foolish thing he could think of to +persuade Bobby to come back. Then a drummer boy was tied to a rope and +let down to the ledge to fetch him up. But at that, without any sound at +all, Bobby dropped out of sight. + +Through the smother came the loud moaning of fog-horns in the Firth. +Although nothing could be seen, and sounds were muffled as if the ears +of the world were stuffed with wool, odors were held captive and mingled +in confusion. There was nothing to guide a little dog's nose, everything +to make him distrust his most reliable sense. The smell of every plant +on the crag was there; the odors of leather, of paint, of wood, of iron, +from the crafts shops at the base. Smoke from chimneys in the valley was +mixed with the strong scent of horses, hay and grain from the street of +King's Stables. There was the smell of furry rodents, of nesting birds, +of gushing springs, of the earth itself, and something more ancient +still, as of burned-out fires in the Huge mass of trap-rock. + +Everything warned Bobby to lie still in safety until morning and the +world was restored to its normal aspects. But ah! in the highest type +of man and dog, self-sacrifice, and not self-preservation, is the first +law. A deserted grave cried to him across the void, the anguish of +protecting love urged him on to take perilous chances. Falling upon a +narrow shelf of rock, he had bounded off and into a thicket of thorns. +Bruised and shaken and bewildered, he lay there for a time and tried to +get his bearings. + +Bobby knew only that the way was downward. He put out a paw and felt for +the edge of the shelf. A thorn bush rooted below tickled his nose. He +dropped into that and scrambled out again. Loose earth broke under his +struggles and carried him swiftly down to a new level. He slipped in the +wet moss of a spring before he heard the tinkle of the water, lost his +foothold, and fell against a sharp point of rock. The shadowy spire of a +fir-tree looming in a parting of the vapor for an instant, Bobby leaped +to the ledge upon which it was rooted. + +Foot by foot he went down, with no guidance at all. It is the nature +of such long, low, earth dogs to go by leaps and bounds like foxes, +calculating distances nicely when they can see, and tearing across the +roughest country with the speed of the wild animals they hunt. And where +the way is very steep they can scramble up or down any declivity that is +at a lesser angle than the perpendicular. Head first they go downward, +setting the fore paws forward, the claws clutching around projections +and in fissures, the weight hung from the stout hindquarters, the body +flattened on the earth. + +Thus Bobby crept down steep descents in safety, but his claws were +broken in crevices and his feet were torn and pierced by splinters of +rock and thorns. Once he went some distance into a cave and had to back +up and out again. And then a promising slope shelving under suddenly, +where he could not retreat, he leaped, turned over and over in the air, +and fell stunned. His heart filled with fear of the unseen before him, +the little dog lay for a long time in a clump of whins. He may even have +dozed and dreamed, to be awakened with starts by his misery of longing, +and once by the far-away barking of a dog. It came up deadened, as if +from fathoms below. He stood up and listened, but the sound was not +repeated. His lacerated feet burned and throbbed; his bruised muscles +had begun to stiffen, so that every movement was a pain. + +In these lower levels there was more smoke, that smeared out and +thickened the mist. Suddenly a breath of air parted the fog as if it +were a torn curtain. Like a shot Bobby went down the crag, leaping from +rock to rock, scrambling under thorns and hazel shrubs, dropping over +precipitous ledges, until he looked down a sheer fall on which not even +a knot of grass could find a foothold. He took the leap instantly, and +his thick fleece saved him from broken bones; but when he tried to get +up again his body was racked with pain and his hind legs refused to +serve him. + +Turning swiftly, he snarled and bit, at them in angry disbelief that his +good little legs should play false with his stout heart. Then he quite +forgot his pain, for there was the sharp ring of iron on an anvil and +the dull glow of a forge fire, where a smith was toiling in the early +hours of the morning. A clever and resourceful little dog, Bobby made +shift to do without legs. Turning on his side, he rolled down the last +slope of Castle Rock. Crawling between two buildings and dropping from +the terrace on which they stood, he fell into a little street at the +west end and above the Grassmarket. + +Here the odors were all of the stables. He knew the way, and that it was +still downward. The distance he had to go was a matter of a quarter of a +mile, or less, and the greater part of it was on the level, through +the sunken valley of the Grassmarket. But Bobby had literally to drag +himself now; and he had still to pull him self up by his fore paws over +the wet and greasy cobblestones of Candlemakers Row. Had not the great +leaves of the gate to the kirkyard been left on the latch, he would +have had to lie there in the alcove, with his nose under the bars, until +morning. But the gate gave way to his push, and so, he dragged himself +through it and around the kirk, and stretched himself on Auld Jock's +grave. + +It was the birds that found him there in the misty dawn. They were used +to seeing Bobby scampering about, for the little watchman was awake and +busy as early as the feathered dwellers in the kirkyard. But, in what +looked to be a wet and furry door-mat left out overnight on the grass, +they did not know him at all. The throstles and skylarks were shy of it, +thinking it might be alive. The wrens fluffed themselves, scolded it, +and told it to get up. The blue titmice flew over it in a flock again +and again, with much sweet gossiping, but they did not venture nearer. A +redbreast lighted on the rose bush that marked Auld Jock's grave, cocked +its head knowingly, and warbled a little song, as much as to say: "If +it's alive that will wake it up." + +As Bobby did not stir, the robin fluttered down, studied him from all +sides, made polite inquiries that were not answered, and concluded that +it would be quite safe to take a silver hair for nest lining. Then, +startled by the animal warmth or by a faint, breathing movement, it +dropped the shining trophy and flew away in a shrill panic. At that, all +the birds set up such an excited crying that they waked Tammy. + +From the rude loophole of a window that projected from the old Cunzie +Neuk, the crippled laddie could see only the shadowy tombs and the long +gray wall of the two kirks, through the sunny haze. But he dropped his +crutches over, and climbed out onto the vault. Never before had Bobby +failed to hear that well-known tap-tap-tapping on the graveled path, nor +failed to trot down to meet it with friskings of welcome. But now he lay +very still, even when a pair of frail arms tried to lift his dead weight +to a heaving breast, and Tammy's cry of woe rang through the kirkyard. +In a moment Ailie and Mistress Jeanie were in the wet grass beside them, +half a hundred casements flew open, and the piping voices of tenement +bairns cried-down: + +"Did the bittie doggie come hame?" + +Oh yes, the bittie doggie had come hame, indeed, but down such perilous +heights as none of them dreamed; and now in what a woeful plight! + +Some murmur of the excitement reached an open dormer of the Temple +tenements, where Geordie Ross had slept with one ear of the born doctor +open. Snatching up a case of first aids to the injured, he ran down the +twisting stairs to the Grassmarket, up to the gate, and around the kirk, +to find a huddled group of women and children weeping over a limp little +bundle of a senseless dog. He thrust a bottle of hartshorn under +the black muzzle, and with a start and a moan Bobby came back to +consciousness. + +"Lay him down flat and stop your havers," ordered the business-like, +embryo medicine man. "Bobby's no' dead. Laddie, you're a braw soldier +for holding your ain feelings, so just hold the wee dog's head." Then, +in the reassuring dialect: "Hoots, Bobby, open the bit mou' noo, an' +tak' the medicine like a mannie!" Down the tiny red cavern of a throat +Geordie poured a dose that galvanized the small creature into life. + +"Noo, then, loup, ye bonny rascal!" + +Bobby did his best to jump at Geordie's bidding. He was so glad to be at +home and to see all these familiar faces of love that he lifted himself +on his fore paws, and his happy heart almost put the power to loup into +his hind legs. But when he tried to stand up he cried out with the pains +and sank down again, with an apologetic and shamefaced look that was +worthy of Auld Jock himself. Geordie sobered on the instant. + +"Weel, now, he's been hurt. We'll just have to see what ails the sonsie +doggie." He ran his hand down the parting in the thatch to discover if +the spine had been injured. When he suddenly pinched the ball of a hind +toe Bobby promptly resented it by jerking his head around and looking at +him reproachfully. The bairns were indignant, too, but Geordie grinned +cheerfully and said: "He's no' paralyzed, at ony rate." He turned as +footsteps were heard coming hastily around the kirk. + +"A gude morning to you, Mr. Traill. Bobby may have been run over by a +cart and got internal injuries, but I'm thinking it's just sprains and +bruises from a bad fall. He was in a state of collapse, and his claws +are as broken and his toes as torn as if he had come down Castle Rock." + +This was such an extravagant surmise that even the anxious landlord +smiled. Then he said, drily: + +"You're a braw laddie, Geordie, and gudehearted, but you're no' a doctor +yet, and, with your leave, I'll have my ain medical man tak' a look at +Bobby." + +"Ay, I would," Geordie agreed, cordially. "It's worth four shullings to +have your mind at ease, man. I'll just go up to the lodge and get a warm +bath ready, to tak' the stiffness out of his muscles, and brew a tea +from an herb that wee wild creatures know all about and aye hunt for +when they're ailing." + +Geordie went away gaily, to take disorder and evil smells into Mistress +Jeanie's shining kitchen. + +No sooner had the medical student gone up to the lodge, and the children +had been persuaded to go home to watch the proceedings anxiously from +the amphitheater of the tenement windows, than the kirkyard gate was +slammed back noisily by a man in a hurry. It was the sergeant who, in +the splendor of full uniform, dropped in the wet grass beside Bobby. + +"Lush! The sma' dog got hame, an' is still leevin'. Noo, God forgie +me--" + +"Eh, man, what had you to do with Bobby's misadventure?" + +Mr. Traill fixed an accusing eye on the soldier, remembering suddenly +his laughing threat to kidnap Bobby. The story came out in a flood of +remorseful words, from Bobby's following of the troops so gaily into the +Castle to his desperate escape over the precipice. + +"Noo," he said, humbly, "gin it wad be ony satisfaction to ye, I'll gang +up to the Castle an' put on fatigue dress, no' to disgrace the unifarm +o' her Maijesty, an' let ye tak' me oot on the Burghmuir an' gie me a +gude lickin'." + +Mr. Traill shrugged his shoulders. "Naething would satisfy me, man, but +to get behind you and kick you over the Firth into the Kingdom of Fife." + +He turned an angry back on the sergeant and helped Geordie lift Bobby +onto Mrs. Brown's braided hearth-rug and carry the improvised litter up +to the lodge. In the kitchen the little dog was lowered into a hot bath, +dried, and rubbed with liniments under his fleece. After his lacerated +feet had been cleaned and dressed with healing ointments and tied up, +Bobby was wrapped in Mistress Jeanie's best flannel petticoat and laid +on the hearth-rug, a very comfortable wee dog, who enjoyed his breakfast +of broth and porridge. + +Mr. Brown, hearing the commotion and perishing of curiosity, demanded +that some one should come and help him out of bed. As no attention +was paid to him he managed to get up himself and to hobble out to the +kitchen just as Mr. Traill's ain medical man came in. Bobby's spine was +examined again, the tail and toes nipped, the heart tested, and all the +soft parts of his body pressed and punched, in spite of the little dog's +vigorous objections to these indignities. + +"Except for sprains and bruises the wee dog is all right. Came down +Castle Crag in the fog, did he? He's a clever and plucky little chap, +indeed, and deserving of a hero medal to hang on the Lord Provost's +collar. You've done very well, Mr. Ross. Just take as good care of him +for a week or so and he could do the gallant deed again." + +Mr. Brown listened to the story of Bobby's adventures with a mingled +look of disgust at the foolishness of men, pride in Bobby's prowess, +and resentment at having been left out of the drama of the night before. +"It's maist michty, noo, Maister Traill, that ye wad tak' the leeberty +o' leein' to me," he complained. + +"It was a gude lee or a bad nicht for an ill man. Geordie will tell +you that a mind at ease is worth four shullings, and I'm charging you +naething. Eh, man, you're deeficult to please." As he went out into the +kirkyard Mr. Traill stopped to reflect on a strange thing: "'You've done +very well, Mr. Ross.' Weel, weel, how the laddies do grow up! But I'm +no' going to admit it to Geordie." + +Another thought, over which he chuckled, sent him off to find the +sergeant. The soldier was tramping gloomily about in the wet, to the +demoralization of his beautiful boots. + +"Man, since a stormy nicht eight years ago last November I've aye been +looking for a bigger weel meaning fule than my ain sel'. You're the man, +so if you'll just shak' hands we'll say nae more about it." + +He did not explain this cryptic remark, but he went on to assure the +sorry soldier that Bobby had got no serious hurt and would soon be as +well as ever. They had turned toward the gate when a stranger with a +newspaper in his hand peered mildly around the kirk and inquired "Do ye +ken whaur's the sma' dog, man?" As Mr. Traill continued to stare at him +he explained, patiently: "It's Greyfriars Bobby, the bittie terrier the +Laird Provost gied the collar to. Hae ye no' seen 'The Scotsman' the +day?" + +The landlord had not. And there was the story, Bobby's, name heading +quite a quarter of a broad column of fine print, and beginning with: +"A very singular and interesting occurrence was brought to light in the +Burgh court by the hearing of a summons in regard to a dog tax." +Bobby was a famous dog, and Mr. Traill came in for a goodly portion of +reflected glory. He threw up his hands in dismay. + +"It's all over the toon, Sergeant." Turning to the stranger, he assured +him that Bobby was not to be seen. "He hurt himsel' coming down Castle +Rock in the nicht, and is in the lodge with the caretaker, wha's fair +ill. Hoo do I ken?" testily. "Weel, man, I'm Mr. Traill." + +He saw at once how unwise was that admission, for he had to shake hands +with the cordial stranger. And after dismissing him there was another at +the gate who insisted upon going up to the lodge to see the little hero. +Here was a state of things, indeed, that called upon all the powers of +the resourceful landlord. + +"All the folk in Edinburgh will be coming, and the poor woman be deaved +with their spiering." And then he began to laugh. "Did you ever hear o' +sic a thing as poetic justice, Sergeant? Nae, it's no' the kind you'll +get in the courts of law. Weel, it's poetic justice for a birkie +soldier, wha claims the airth and the fullness thereof, to have to tak' +his orders from a sma' shopkeeper. Go up to the police office in St. +Gila now and ask for an officer to stand at the gate here to answer +questions, and to keep the folk awa' from the lodge." + +He stood guard himself, and satisfied a score of visitors before the +sergeant came back, and there was another instance of poetic justice, in +the crestfallen Burgh policeman who had been sent with instructions to +take his orders from the delighted landlord. + +"Eh, Davie, it's a lang lane that has nae turning. Ye're juist to stand +here a' the day an' say to ilka body wha spiers for the dog: 'Ay, sir, +Greyfriars Bobby's been leevin' i' the kirkyaird aucht years an' mair, +an' Maister Traill's aye fed 'im i' the dining-rooms. Ay, the case was +dismissed i' the Burgh coort. The Laird Provost gied a collar to the bit +Skye because there's a meddlin' fule or twa amang the Burgh police wha'd +be takin' 'im up. The doggie's i' the lodge wi' the caretaker, wha's +fair ill, an' he canna be seen the day. But gang aroond the kirk an' ye +can see Auld Jock's grave that he's aye guarded. There's nae stave to +it, but it's neist to the fa'en table-tomb o' Mistress Jean Grant. A +gude day to ye.' Hae ye got a' that, man? Weel, cheer up. Yell hae to +say it nae mair than a thousand times or twa, atween noo an' nichtfa'." + +He went away laughing at the penance that was laid upon his foe. The +landlord felt so well satisfied with the world that he took another +jaunty crack at the sergeant: "By richts, man, you ought to go to gaol, +but I'll just fine you a shulling a month for Bobby's natural lifetime, +to give the wee soldier a treat of a steak or a chop once a week." + +Hands were struck heartily on the bargain, and the two men parted good +friends. Now, finding Ailie dropping tears in the dish-water, Mr. Traill +sent her flying down to the lodge with instructions to make herself +useful to Mrs. Brown. Then he was himself besieged in his place of +business by folk of high and low degree who were disappointed by their +failure to see Bobby in the kirkyard. Greyfriars Dining-Rooms had more +distinguished visitors in a day than they had had in all the years since +Auld Jock died and a little dog fell there at the landlord's feet "a' +but deid wi' hunger." + +Not one of all the grand folk who, inquired for Bobby at the kirkyard +or at the restaurant got a glimpse of him that day. But after they +were gone the tenement dwellers came up to the gate again, as they had +gathered the evening before, and begged that they might just tak' a look +at him and his braw collar. "The bonny bit is the bairns' ain doggie, +an' the Laird Provost himsel' told 'em he wasna to be neglectet," was +one mother's plea. + +Ah! that was very true. To the grand folk who had come to see him, Bobby +was only a nine-days' wonder. His story had touched the hearts of all +orders of society. For a time strangers would come to see him, and then +they would forget all about him or remember him only fitfully. It was to +these poor people around the kirkyard, themselves forgotten by the more +fortunate, that the little dog must look for his daily meed of affection +and companionship. Mr. Traill spoke to them kindly. + +"Bide a wee, noo, an' I'll fetch the doggie doon." + +Bobby had slept blissfully nearly all the day, after his exhausting +labors and torturing pains. But with the sunset bugle he fretted to be +let out. Ailie had wept and pleaded, Mrs. Brown had reasoned with him, +and Mr. Brown had scolded, all to the end of persuading him to sleep in +"the hoose the nicht." But when no one was watching him Bobby crawled +from his rug and dragged himself to the door. He rapped the floor with +his tail in delight when Mr. Traill came in and bundled him up on the +rug, so he could lie easily, and carried him down to the gate. + +For quite twenty minutes these neighbors and friends of Bobby filed by +silently, patted the shaggy little head, looked at the grand plate with +Bobby's and the Lord Provost's names upon it, and believed their own +wondering een. Bobby wagged his tail and lolled his tongue, and now and +then he licked the hand of a baby who had to be lifted by a tall brother +to see him. Shy kisses were dropped on Bobby's head by toddling bairns, +and awkward caresses by rough laddies. Then they all went home quietly, +and Mr. Traill carried the little dog around the kirk. + +And there, ah! so belated, Auld Jock's grave bore its tribute of +flowers. Wreaths and nosegays, potted daffodils and primroses and +daisies, covered the sunken mound so that some of them had to be moved +to make room for Bobby. He sniffed and sniffed at them, looked up +inquiringly at Mr. Traill; and then snuggled down contentedly among +the blossoms. He did not understand their being there any more than +he understood the collar about which everybody made such a to-do. The +narrow band of leather would disappear under his thatch again, and would +be unnoticed by the casual passer-by; the flowers would fade and never +be so lavishly renewed; but there was another more wonderful gift, now, +that would never fail him. + +At nightfall, before the drum and bugle sounded the tattoo to call the +scattered garrison in the Castle, there took place a loving ceremony +that was never afterward omitted as long as Bobby lived. Every child +newly come to the tenements learned it, every weanie lisped it among his +first words. Before going to bed each bairn opened a casement. Sometimes +a candle was held up--a little star of love, glimmering for a moment on +the dark; but always there was a small face peering into the melancholy +kirkyard. In midsummer, and at other seasons if the moon rose full and +early and the sky was clear, Bobby could be seen on the grave. And when +he recovered from these hurts he trotted about, making the circuit below +the windows. He could not speak there, because he had been forbidden, +but he could wag his tail and look up to show his friendliness. And +whether the children saw him or not they knew he was always there after +sunset, keeping watch and ward, and "lanely" because his master had gone +away to heaven; and so they called out to him sweetly and clearly: + +"A gude nicht to ye, Bobby." + + + + +XII. + +In one thing Mr. Traill had been mistaken: the grand folk did not forget +Bobby. At the end of five years the leal Highlander was not only still +remembered, but he had become a local celebrity. + +Had the grave of his haunting been on the Pentlands or in one of the +outlying cemeteries of the city Bobby must have been known to few of his +generation, and to fame not at all. But among churchyards Greyfriars was +distinguished. One of the historic show-places of Edinburgh, and in +the very heart of the Old Town, it was never missed by the most hurried +tourist, seldom left unvisited, from year to year, by the oldest +resident. Names on its old tombs had come to mean nothing to those +who read them, except as they recalled memorable records of love, +of inspiration, of courage, of self-sacrifice. And this being so, it +touched the imagination to see, among the marbles that crumbled toward +the dust below, a living embodiment of affection and fidelity. Indeed, +it came to be remarked, as it is remarked to-day, although four decades +have gone by, that no other spot in Greyfriars was so much cared for as +the grave of a man of whom nothing was known except that the life and +love of a little dog was consecrated to his memory. + +At almost any hour Bobby might be found there. As he grew older he +became less and less willing to be long absent, and he got much of his +exercise by nosing about among the neighboring thorns. In fair weather +he took his frequent naps on the turf above his master, or he sat on +the fallen table-tomb in the sun. On foul days he watched the grave from +under the slab, and to that spot he returned from every skirmish against +the enemy. Visitors stopped to speak to him. Favored ones were permitted +to read the inscription on his collar and to pat his head. It seemed, +therefore, the most natural thing in the world when the greatest lady in +England, beside the Queen, the Baroness Burdett-Coutts, came all the way +from London to see Bobby. + +Except that it was the first Monday in June, and Founder's Day at +Heriot's Hospital, it was like any other day of useful work, innocent +pleasure, and dreaming dozes on Auld Jock's grave to wee Bobby. As years +go, the shaggy little Skye was an old dog, but he was not feeble or +blind or unhappy. A terrier, as a rule, does not live as long as more +sluggish breeds of dogs, but, active to the very end, he literally +wears himself out tearing around, and then goes, little soldier, very +suddenly, dying gallantly with his boots on. + +In the very early mornings of the northern summer Bobby woke with the +birds, a long time before the reveille was sounded from the Castle. He +scampered down to the circling street of tombs at once, and not until +the last prowler had been dispatched, or frightened into his burrow, did +he return for a brief nap on Auld Jock's grave. + +All about him the birds fluttered and hopped and gossiped and foraged, +unafraid. They were used, by this time, to seeing the little dog lying +motionless, his nose on his paws. Often some tidbit of food lay there, +brought for Bobby by a stranger. He had learned that a Scotch bun +dropped near him was a feast that brought feathered visitors about and +won their confidence and cheerful companionship. When he awoke he lay +there lolling and blinking, following the blue rovings of the titmice +and listening to the foolish squabbles of the sparrows and the shrewish +scoldings of the wrens. He always started when a lark sprang at his feet +and a cataract of melody tumbled from the sky. + +But, best of all, Bobby loved a comfortable and friendly robin +redbreast--not the American thrush that is called a robin, but the +smaller Old World warbler. It had its nest of grass and moss and +feathers, and many a silver hair shed by Bobby, low in a near-by thorn +bush. In sweet and plaintive talking notes it told its little dog +companion all about the babies that had left the nest and the new brood +that would soon be there. On the morning of that wonderful day of the +Grand Leddy's first coming, Bobby and the redbreast had a pleasant visit +together before the casements began to open and the tenement bairns +called down their morning greeting: + +"A gude day to ye, Bobby." + +By the time all these courtesies had been returned Tammy came in at the +gate with his college books strapped on his back. The old Cunzic +Neuk had been demolished by Glenormiston, and Tammy, living in better +quarters, was studying to be a teacher at Heriot's. Bobby saw him +settled, and then he had to escort Mr. Brown down from the lodge. The +caretaker made his way about stiffly with a cane and, with the aid of +a young helper who exasperated the old gardener by his cheerful +inefficiency, kept the auld kirkyard in beautiful order. + +"Eh, ye gude-for-naethin' tyke," he said to Bobby, in transparent +pretense of his uselessness. "Get to wark, or I'll hae a young dog in to +gie ye a lift, an' syne whaur'll ye be?" + +Bobby jumped on him in open delight at this, as much as to say: "Ye may +be as dour as ye like, but ilka body kens ye're gude-hearted." + +Morning and evening numerous friends passed the gate, and the wee +dog waited for them on the wicket. Dr. George Ross and Mr. Alexander +McGregor shook Bobby's lifted paw and called him a sonsie rascal. Small +merchants, students, clerks, factory workers, house servants, laborers +and vendors, all honest and useful people, had come up out of these old +tenements within Bobby's memory; and others had gone down, alas! into +the Cowgate. But Bobby's tail wagged for these unfortunates, too, and +some of them had no other friend in the world beside that uncalculating +little dog. + +When the morning stream of auld acquaintance had gone by, and none +forgot, Bobby went up to the lodge to sit for an hour with Mistress +Jeanie. There he was called "croodlin' doo"--which was altogether +absurd--by the fond old woman. As neat of plumage, and as busy and +talkative about small domestic matters as the robin, Bobby loved to +watch the wifie stirring savory messes over the fire, watering her +posies, cleaning the fluttering skylark's cage, or just sitting by the +hearth or in the sunny doorway with him, knitting warm stockings for her +rheumatic gude-mon. + +Out in the kirkyard Bobby trotted dutifully at the caretaker's heels. +When visitors were about he did not venture to take a nap in the open +unless Mr. Brown was on guard, and, by long and close companionship with +him, the aging man could often tell what Bobby was dreaming about. At +a convulsive movement and a jerk of his head the caretaker would say to +the wifie, if she chanced to be near: + +"Leuk at that, noo, wull ye? The sperity bit was takin' thae fou' +vermin." And again, when the muscles of his legs worked rhythmically, +"He's rinnin' wi' the laddies or the braw soldiers on the braes." + +Bobby often woke from a dream with a start, looked dazed, and then +foolish, at the vivid imaginings of sleep. But when, in a doze, he half +stretched himself up on his short, shagged fore paws, flattened out, and +then awoke and lay so, very still, for a time, it was Mistress Jeanie +who said: + +"Preserve us a'! The bonny wee was dreamin' o' his maister's deith, an' +noo he's greetin' sair." + +At that she took her little stool and sat on the grave beside him. But +Mr. Brown bit his teeth in his pipe, limped away, and stormed at his +daft helper laddie, who didn't appear to know a violet from a burdock. + +Ah! who can doubt that, so deeply were scene and word graven on his +memory, Bobby often lived again the hour of his bereavement, and heard +Auld Jock's last words: + +"Gang--awa'--hame--laddie!" + +Homeless on earth, gude Auld Jock had gone to a place prepared for him. +But his faithful little dog had no home. This sacred spot was merely +his tarrying place, where he waited until such a time as that mysterious +door should open for him, perchance to an equal sky, and he could slip +through and find his master. + +On the morning of the day when the Grand Leddy came Bobby watched the +holiday crowd gather on Heriot's Hospital grounds. The mothers and +sisters of hundreds of boys were there, looking on at the great match +game of cricket. Bobby dropped over the wall and scampered about, taking +a merry part in the play. When the pupils' procession was formed, and +the long line of grinning and nudging laddies marched in to service in +the chapel and dinner in the hall, he was set up over the kirkyard wall, +hundreds of hands were waved to him, and voices called back: "Fareweel, +Bobby!" Then the time-gun boomed from the Castle, and the little dog +trotted up for his dinner and nap under the settle and his daily visit +with Mr. Traill. + +In fair weather, when the last guest had departed and the music bells of +St. Giles had ceased playing, the landlord was fond of standing in his +doorway, bareheaded and in shirt-sleeves and apron, to exchange opinions +on politics, literature and religion, or to tell Bobby's story to what +passers-by he could beguile into talk. At his feet, there, was a fine +place for a sociable little dog to spend an hour. When he was ready to +go Bobby set his paws upon Mr. Traill and waited for the landlord's hand +to be laid on his head and the man to say, in the dialect the little +dog best understood: "Bide a wee. Ye're no' needin' to gang sae sune, +laddie!" + +At that he dropped, barked politely, wagged his tail, and was off. If +Mr. Traill really wanted to detain Bobby he had only to withhold the +magic word "laddie," that no one else had used toward the little dog +since Auld Jock died. But if the word was too long in coming, Bobby +would thrash his tail about impatiently, look up appealingly, and +finally rise and beg and whimper. + +"Weel, then, bide wi' me, an' ye'll get it ilka hour o' the day, ye +sonsie, wee, talon' bit! What are ye hangin' aroond for? Eh--weel--gang +awa' wi' ye--laddie!" The landlord sighed and looked down reproachfully. +With a delighted yelp, and a lick of the lingering hand, Bobby was off. + +It was after three o'clock on this day when he returned to the kirkyard. +The caretaker was working at the upper end, and the little dog was +lonely. But; long enough absent from his master, Bobby lay down on the +grave, in the stillness of the mid-afternoon. The robin made a brief +call and, as no other birds were about, hopped upon Bobby's back, +perched on his head, and warbled a little song. It was then that the +gate clicked. Dismissing her carriage and telling the coachman to return +at five, Lady Burdett-Coutts entered the kirkyard. + +Bobby trotted around the kirk on the chance of meeting a friend. He +looked up intently at the strange lady for a moment, and she stood still +and looked down at him. She was not a beautiful lady, nor very young. +Indeed, she was a few years older than the Queen, and the Queen was a +widowed grandmother. But she had a sweet dignity and warm serenity--an +unhurried look, as if she had all the time in the world for a wee dog; +and Bobby was an age-whitened muff of a plaintive terrier that captured +her heart at once. Very certain that this stranger knew and cared about +how he felt, Bobby turned and led her down to Auld Jock's grave. And +when she was seated on the table-tomb he came up to her and let her look +at his collar, and he stood under her caress, although she spoke to +him in fey English, calling him a darling little dog. Then, entirely +contented with her company, he lay down, his eyes fixed upon her and +lolling his tongue. + +The sun was on the green and flowery slope of Greyfriars, warming the +weathered tombs and the rear windows of the tenements. The Grand Leddy +found a great deal there to interest her beside Bobby and the robin that +chirped and picked up crumbs between the little dog's paws. Presently +the gate was opened again and a housemaid from some mansion in George +Square came around the kirk. Trained by Mistress Jeanie, she was a neat +and pretty and pleasant-mannered housemaid, in a black gown and white +apron, and with a frilled cap on her crinkly, gold-brown hair that had +had more than "a lick or twa the nicht afore." + +"It's juist Ailie," Bobby seemed to say, as he stood a moment with +crested neck and tail. "Ilka body kens Ailie." + +The servant lassie, with an hour out, had stopped to speak to Bobby. She +had not meant to stay long, but the lady, who didn't look in the least +grand, began to think friendly things aloud. + +"The windows of the tenements are very clean." + +"Ay. The bairnies couldna see Bobby gin the windows warna washed." The +lassie was pulling her adored little pet's ears, and Bobby was nuzzling +up to her. + +"In many of the windows there is a box of flowers, or of kitchen herbs +to make the broth savory." + +"It wasna so i' the auld days. It was aye washin's clappin' aboon the +stanes. Noo, mony o' the mithers hang the claes oot at nicht. Ilka thing +is changed sin' I was a wean an' leevin' i' the auld Guildhall, the +bairnies haen Bobby to lo'e, an' no' to be neglectet." She continued the +conversation to include Tammy as he came around the kirk on his tapping +crutches. + +"Hoo mony years is it, Tammy, sin' Bobby's been leevin' i' the auld +kirkyaird? At Maister Traill's snawy picnic ye war five gangin' on sax." +They exchanged glances in which lay one of the happy memories of sad +childhoods. + +"Noo I'm nineteen going on twenty. It's near fourteen years syne, +Ailie." Nearly all the burrs had been pulled from Tammy's tongue, but +he used a Scotch word now and then, no' to shame Ailie's less cultivated +speech. + +"So long?" murmured the Grand Leddy. "Bobby is getting old, very old for +a terrier." + +As if to deny that, Bobby suddenly shot down the slope in answer to a +cry of alarm from a song thrush. Still good for a dash, when he came +back he dropped panting. The lady put her hand on his rippling coat +and felt his heart pounding. Then she looked at his worn down teeth and +lifted his veil. Much of the luster was gone from Bobby's brown eyes, +but they were still soft and deep and appealing. + +From the windows children looked down upon the quiet group and, without +in the least knowing why they wanted to be there, too, the tenement +bairns began to drop into the kirkyard. Almost at once it rained--a +quick, bright, dashing shower that sent them all flying and laughing up +to the shelter of the portico to the new kirk. Bobby scampered up, too, +and with the bairns in holiday duddies crowding about her, and the wee +dog lolling at her feet, the Grand Leddy talked fairy stories. + +She told them all about a pretty country place near London. It was +called Holly Lodge because its hedges were bright with green leaves +and red berries, even in winter. A lady who had no family at all lived +there, and to keep her company she had all sorts of pets. Peter and +Prince were the dearest dogs, and Cocky was a parrot that could say the +most amusing things. Sir Garnet was the llama goat, or sheep--she +didn't know which. There was a fat and lazy old pony that had long been +pensioned off on oats and clover, and--oh yes--the white donkey must not +be forgotten! + +"O-o-o-oh! I didna ken there wad be ony white donkeys!" cried a big-eyed +laddie. + +"There cannot be many, and there's a story about how the lady came to +have this one. One day, driving in a poor street, she saw a coster--that +is a London peddler--beating his tired donkey that refused to pull the +load. The lady got out of her carriage, fed the animal some carrots from +the cart, talked kindly to him right into his big, surprised ear, and +stroked his nose. Presently the poor beast felt better and started off +cheerfully with the heavy cart. When many costers learned that it was +not only wicked but foolish to abuse their patient animals, they hunted +for a white donkey to give the lady. They put a collar of flowers about +his neck, and brought him up on a platform before a crowd of people. +Everybody laughed, for he was a clumsy and comical beast to be decorated +with roses and daisies. But the lady is proud of him, and now that +pampered donkey has nothing to do but pull her Bath chair about, when +she is at Holly Lodge, and kick up his heels on a clover pasture." + +"Are ye kennin' anither tale, Leddy?" + +"Oh, a number of them. Prince, the fox terrier, was ill once, and the +doctor who came to see him said his mistress gave him too much to eat. +That was very probable, because that lady likes to see children and +animals have too much to eat. There are dozens and dozens of poor +children that the lady knows and loves. Once they lived in a very dark +and dirty and crowded tenement, quite as bad as some that were torn down +in the Cowgate and the Grassmarket." + +"It mak's ye fecht ane anither," said one laddie, soberly. "Gin they had +a sonsie doggie like Bobby to lo'e, an' an auld kirkyaird wi' posies an' +birdies to leuk into, they wadna fecht sae muckle." + +"I'm very sure of that. Well, the lady built a new tenement with plenty +of room and light and air, and a market so they can get better food more +cheaply, and a large church, that is also a kind of school where big +and little people can learn many things. She gives the children of +the neighborhood a Christmas dinner and a gay tree, and she strips the +hedges of Holly Lodge for them, and then she takes Peter and Prince, +and Cocky the parrot, to help along the fun, and she tells her newest +stories. Next Christmas she means to tell the story of Greyfriars Bobby, +and how all his little Scotch friends are better-behaving and cleaner +and happier because they have that wee dog to love." + +"Ilka body lo'es Bobby. He wasna ever mistreatet or neglectet," said +Ailie, thoughtfully. + +"Oh--my--dear! That's the very best part of the story!" The Grand Leddy +had a shining look. + +The rain had ceased and the sun come out, and the children began to be +called away. There was quite a little ceremony of lingering leave-taking +with the lady and with Bobby, and while this was going on Ailie had a +"sairious" confidence for her old playfellow. + +"Tammy, as the leddy says, Bobby's gettin' auld. I ken whaur's a snawy +hawthorn aboon the burn in Swanston Dell. The throstles nest there, +an' the blackbirds whustle bonny. It isna so far but the bairnies could +march oot wi' posies." She turned to the lady, who had overheard her. +"We gied a promise to the Laird Provost to gie Bobby a grand funeral. Ye +ken he wullna be permittet to be buried i' the kirkyaird." + +"Will he not? I had not thought of that." Her tone was at once hushed +and startled. + +Then she was down in the grass, brooding over the little dog, and Bobby +had the pathetic look of trying to understand what this emotional talk, +that seemed to concern himself, was about. Tammy and Ailie were down, +too. + +"Are ye thinkin' Bobby wall be kennin' the deeference?" Ailie's bluebell +eyes were wide at the thought of pain for this little pet. + +"I do not know, my dear. But there cannot well be more love in this +world than there is room for in God's heaven." + +She was silent all the way to the gate, some thought in her mind already +working toward a gracious deed. At the last she said: "The little dog +is fond of you both. Be with him all you can, for I think his beautiful +life is near its end." After a pause, during which her face was lighted +by a smile, as if from a lovely thought within, she added: "Don't let +Bobby die before my return from London." + +In a week she was back, and in the meantime letters and telegrams had +been flying, and many wheels set in motion in wee Bobby's affairs. When +she returned to the churchyard, very early one morning, no less a person +than the Lord Provost himself was with her. Five years had passed, but +Mr.--no, Sir William--Chambers, Laird of Glenormiston, for he had been +knighted by the Queen, was still Lord Provost of Edinburgh. + +Almost immediately Mr. Traill appeared, by appointment, and was made +all but speechless for once in his loquacious life by the honor of being +asked to tell Bobby's story to the Baroness Burdett-Coutts. But not even +a tenement child or a London coster could be ill at ease with the Grand +Leddy for very long, and presently the three were in close conference in +the portico. Bobby welcomed them, and then dozed in the sun and visited +with the robin on Auld Jock's grave. Far from being tongue-tied, the +landlord was inspired. What did he not remember, from the pathetic +renunciation, "Bobby isna ma ain dog," down to the leal Highlander's +last, near tragic reminder to men that in the nameless grave lay his +unforgotten master. + +He sketched the scene in Haddo's Hole, where the tenement bairns poured +out as pure a gift of love and mercy and self-sacrifice as had ever +been laid at the foot of a Scottish altar. He told of the search for the +lately ransomed and lost terrier, by the lavish use of oil and candles; +of Bobby's coming down Castle Rock in the fog, battered and bruised for +a month's careful tending by an old Heriot laddie. His feet still showed +the scars of that perilous descent. He himself, remorseful, had gone +with the Biblereader from the Medical Mission in the Cowgate to the +dormer-lighted closet in College Wynd, where Auld Jock had died. Now he +described the classic fireplace of white freestone, with its boxed-in +bed, where the Pentland shepherd lay like some effigy on a bier, with +the wee guardian dog stretched on the flagged hearth below. + +"What a subject for a monument!" The Grand Leddy looked across the top +of the slope at the sleeping Skye. "I suppose there is no portrait of +Bobby." + +"Ay, your Leddyship; I have a drawing in the dining rooms, sketched +by Mr. Daniel Maclise. He was here a year or twa ago, just before his +death, doing some commission, and often had his tea in my bit place. I +told him Bobby's story, and he made the sketch for me as a souvenir of +his veesit." + +"I am sure you prize it, Mr. Traill. Mr. Maclise was a talented artist, +but he was not especially an animal painter. There really is no one +since Landseer paints no more." + +"I would advise you, Baroness, not to make that remark at an Edinburgh +dinner-table." Glenormiston was smiling. "The pride of Auld Reekie just +now is Mr. Gourlay Stelle, who was lately commanded to Balmoral Castle +to paint the Queen's dogs." + +"The very person! I have seen his beautiful canvas--'Burns and the Field +Mouse.' Is he not a younger brother of Sir John Stelle, the sculptor +of the statue and character figures in the Scott monument?" Her eyes +sparkled as she added: "You have so much talent of the right, sorts here +that it would be wicked not to employ it in the good cause." + +What "the good cause" was came out presently, in the church, where +she startled even Glenormiston and Mr. Traill by saying quietly to the +minister and the church officers of Greyfriars auld kirk: "When Bobby +dies I want him laid in the grave with his master." + +Every member of both congregations knew Bobby and was proud of his fame, +but no official notice had ever been taken of the little dog's presence +in the churchyard. The elders and deacons were, in truth, surprised that +such distinguished attention should be directed to him now, and they +were embarrassed by it. It was not easy for any body of men in the +United Kingdom to refuse anything to Lady Burdett-Coutts, because she +could always count upon having the sympathy of the public. But this, +they declared, could not be considered. To propose to bury a dog in +the historic churchyard would scandalize the city. To this objection +Glenormiston said, seriously: "The feeling about Bobby is quite +exceptional. I would be willing to put the matter to the test of heading +a petition." + +At that the church officers threw up their hands. They preferred to +sound public sentiment themselves, and would consider it. But if Bobby +was permitted to be buried with his master there must be no notice taken +of it. Well, the Heriot laddies might line up along the wall, and the +tenement bairns look down from the windows. Would that satisfy her +ladyship? + +"As far as it goes." The Grand Leddy was smiling, but a little tremulous +about the mouth. + +That was a day when women had little to say in public, and she meant to +make a speech, and to ask to be allowed to do an unheard-of thing. + +"I want to put up a monument to the nameless man who inspired such love, +and to the little dog that was capable of giving it. Ah gentlemen, do +not refuse, now." She sketched her idea of the classic fireplace bier, +the dead shepherd of the Pentlands, and the little prostrate terrier. +"Immemorial man and his faithful dog. Our society for the prevention of +cruelty to animals is finding it so hard to get people even to admit the +sacredness of life in dumb creatures, the brutalizing effects of abuse +of them on human beings, and the moral and practical worth to us of +kindness. To insist that a dog feels, that he loves devotedly and with +less calculation than men, that he grieves at a master's death and +remembers him long years, brings a smile of amusement. Ah yes! Here in +Scotland, too, where your own great Lord Erskine was a pioneer of pity +two generations ago, and with Sir Walter's dogs beloved of the literary, +and Doctor Brown's immortal 'Rab,' we find it uphill work. + +"The story of Greyfriars Bobby is quite the most complete and remarkable +ever recorded in dog annals. His lifetime of devotion has been witnessed +by thousands, and honored publicly, by your own Lord Provost, with the +freedom of the city, a thing that, I believe, has no precedent. All +the endearing qualities of the dog reach their height in this loyal +and lovable Highland terrier; and he seems to have brought out the best +qualities of the people who have known him. Indeed, for fourteen years +hundreds of disinherited children have been made kinder and happier by +knowing Bobby's story and having that little dog to love." + +She stopped in some embarrassment, seeing how she had let herself go, in +this warm championship, and then she added: + +"Bobby does not need a monument, but I think we need one of him, that +future generations may never forget what the love of a dog may mean, to +himself and to us." + +The Grand Leddy must have won her plea, then and there, but for the fact +that the matter of erecting a monument of a public character anywhere +in the city had to come up before the Burgh council. In that body the +stubborn opposition of a few members unexpectedly developed, and, in +spite of popular sympathy with the proposal, the plan was rejected. +Permission was given, however, for Lady Burdett-Coutts to put up a +suitable memorial to Bobby at the end of George IV Bridge, and opposite +the main gateway to the kirkyard. + +For such a public place a tomb was unsuitable. What form the memorial +was to take was not decided upon until, because of two chance happenings +of one morning, the form of it bloomed like a flower in the soul of the +Grand Leddy. She had come down to the kirkyard to watch the artist at +work. Morning after morning he had sketched there. He had drawn Bobby +lying down, his nose on his paws, asleep on the grave. He had drawn him +sitting upon the table-tomb, and standing in the begging attitude in +which he was so irresistible. But with every sketch he was dissatisfied. + +Bobby was a trying and deceptive subject. He had the air of curiosity +and gaiety of other terriers. He saw no sense at all in keeping still, +with his muzzle tipped up or down, and his tail held just so. He brushed +all that unreasonable man's suggestions aside as quite unworthy of +consideration. Besides, he had the liveliest interest in the astonishing +little dog that grew and disappeared, and came back, in some new +attitude, on the canvas. He scraped acquaintance with it once or twice +to the damage of fresh brush-work. He was always jumping from his pose +and running around the easel to see how the latest dog was coming on. + +After a number of mornings Bobby lost interest in the man and his +occupation and went about his ordinary routine of life as if the artist +was not there at all. One morning the wee terrier was found sitting on +the table-tomb, on his haunches, looking up toward the Castle, where +clouds and birds were blown around the sun-gilded battlements. + +His attitude might have meant anything or nothing, for the man who +looked at him from above could not see his expression. And all at once +he realized that to see Bobby a human being must get down to his level. +To the scandal of the children, he lay on his back on the grass and did +nothing at all but look up at Bobby until the little dog moved. Then he +set the wee Highlander up on an altar-topped shaft just above the level +of the human eye. Indifferent at the moment as to what was done to him, +Bobby continued to gaze up and out, wistfully and patiently, upon this +masterless world. As plainly as a little dog could speak, Bobby said: + +"I hae bided lang an' lanely. Hoo lang hae I still to bide? An' syne, +wull I be gangin' to Auld Jock?" + +The Grand Leddy saw that at once, and tears started to her eyes when +she came in to find the artist sketching with feverish rapidity. She +confessed that she had looked into Bobby's eyes, but she had never truly +seen that mourning little creature before. He had only to be set up so, +in bronze, and looking through the kirkyard gate, to tell his own story +to the most careless passerby. The image of the simple memorial was +clear in her mind, and it seemed unlikely that anything could be added +to it, when she left the kirkyard. + +As she was getting into her carriage a noble collie, but one with a +discouraged tail and hanging tongue, came out of Forest Road. He had +done a hard morning's work, of driving a flock from the Pentlands to the +cattle and sheep market, and then had hunted far and unsuccessfully +for water. He nosed along the gutter, here and there licking from the +cobblestones what muddy moisture had not drained away from a recent +rain. The same lady who had fed the carrots to the coster's donkey in +London turned hastily into Ye Olde Greyfriars Dining-Rooms, and asked +Mr. Traill for a basin of water. The landlord thought he must have +misunderstood her. "Is it a glass of water your Leddyship's wanting?" + +"No, a basin, please; a large one, and very quickly." + +She took it from him, hurried out, and set it under the thirsty animal's +nose. The collie lapped it eagerly until the water was gone, then looked +up and, by waggings and lickings, asked for more. Mr. Traill brought out +a second basin, and he remarked upon a sheep-dog's capacity for water. + +"It's no' a basin will satisfy him, used as he is to having a tam on the +moor to drink from. This neeborhood is noted for the dogs that are aye +passing. On Wednesdays the farm dogs come up from the Grassmarket, and +every day there are weel-cared-for dogs from the residence streets, dogs +of all conditions across the bridge from High Street, and meeserable +waifs from the Cowgate. Stray pussies are about, too. I'm a gude-hearted +man, and an unco' observant one, your Leddyship, but I was no' thinking +that these animals must often suffer from thirst." + +"Few people do think of it. Most men can love some one dog or cat or +horse and be attentive to its wants, but they take little thought +for the world of dumb animals that are so dependent upon us. It is no +special credit to you, Mr. Traill, that you became fond of an attractive +little dog like Bobby and have cared for him so tenderly." + +The landlord gasped. He had taken not a little pride in his stanch +championship and watchful care of Bobby, and his pride had been +increased by the admiration that had been lavished on him for years by +the general public. Now, as he afterward confessed to Mr. Brown: + +"Her leddyship made me feel I'd done naething by the ordinar', but +maistly to please my ainsel'. Eh, man, she made me sing sma'." + +When the collie had finished drinking, he looked up gratefully, rubbed +against the good Samaritans, waved his plumed tail like a banner, and +trotted away. After a thoughtful moment Lady Burdett-Coutts said: + +"The suitable memorial here, Mr. Traill, is a fountain, with a low +basin level with the curb, and a higher one, and Bobby sitting on an +altar-topped central column above, looking through the kirkyard gate. It +shall be his mission to bring men and small animals together in sympathy +by offering to both the cup of cold water." + +She was there once again that year. On her way north she stopped in +Edinburgh over night to see how the work on the fountain had progressed. +It was in Scotland's best season, most of the days dry and bright and +sharp. But on that day it was misting, and yellow leaves were dropping +on the wet tombs and beaded grass, when the Grand Leddy appeared at the +kirkyard late in the afternoon with a wreath of laurel to lay on Auld +Jock's grave. + +Bobby slipped out, dry as his own delectable bone, from under the tomb +of Mistress Jean Grant, and nearly wagged his tail off with pleasure. +Mistress Jeanie was set in a proud flutter when the Grand Leddy rang at +the lodge kitchen and asked if she and Bobby could have their tea there +with the old couple by the cozy grate fire. + +They all drank tea from the best blue cups, and ate buttered scones and +strawberry jam on the scoured deal table. Bobby had his porridge and +broth on the hearth. The coals snapped in the grate and the firelight +danced merrily on the skylark's cage and the copper kettle. Mr. Brown +got out his fife and played "Bonnie Dundee." Wee, silver-white Bobby +tried to dance, but he tumbled over so lamentably once or twice that he +hung his head apologetically, admitting that he ought to have the sense +to know that his dancing days were done. He lay down and lolled and +blinked on the hearth until the Grand Leddy rose to go. + +"I am on my way to Braemar to visit for a few days at Balmoral Castle. I +wish I could take Bobby with me to show him to the dear Queen." + +"Preserve me!" cried Mistress Jeanie, and Mr. Brown's pet pipe was in +fragments on the hearth. + +Bobby leaped upon her and whimpered, saying "Dinna gang, Leddy!" as +plainly as a little dog could say anything. He showed the pathos at +parting with one he was fond of, now, that an old and affectionate +person shows. He clung to her gown, rubbed his rough head under her +hand, and trotted disconsolately beside her to her waiting carriage. At +the very last she said, sadly: + +"The Queen will have to come to Edinburgh to see Bobby." + +"The bonny wee wad be a prood doggie, yer Leddyship," Mistress Jeanie +managed to stammer, but Mr. Brown was beyond speech. + +The Grand Leddy said nothing. She looked at the foundation work of +Bobby's memorial fountain, swathed in canvas against the winter, and +waiting--waiting for the spring, when the waters of the earth should +be unsealed again; waiting until finis could be written to a story on a +bronze table-tomb; waiting for the effigy of a shaggy Skye terrier to be +cast and set up; waiting-- + +When the Queen came to see Bobby it was unlikely that he would know +anything about it. + +He would know nothing of the crowds to gather there on a public +occasion, massing on the bridge, in Greyfriars Place, in broad Chambers +Street, and down Candlemakers Row--the magistrates and Burgh council, +professors and students from the University, soldiers from the Castle, +the neighboring nobility in carriages, farmers and shepherds from the +Pentlands, the Heriot laddies marching from the school, and the tenement +children in holiday duddies--all to honor the memory of a devoted little +dog. He would know nothing of the military music and flowers, the prayer +of the minister of Greyfriars auld kirk, the speech of the Lord Provost; +nothing of the happy tears of the Grand Leddy when a veil should fall +away from a little bronze dog that gazed wistfully through the kirkyard +gate, and water gush forth for the refreshment of men and animals. + +"Good-by, good-by, good-by, Bobby; most loving and lovable, darlingest +wee dog in the world!" she cried, and a shower of bright drops and sweet +little sounds fell on Bobby's tousled head. Then the carriage of the +Grand Leddy rolled away in the rainy dusk. + +The hour-bell of St. Giles was rung, and the sunset bugle blown in the +Castle. It took Mr. Brown a long time to lift the wicket, close the tall +leaves and lock the gate. The wind was rising, and the air hardening. +One after one the gas lamps flared in the gusts that blew on the bridge. +The huge bulk of shadow lay, velvet black, in the drenched quarry pit of +the Grassmarket. The caretaker's voice was husky with a sudden "cauld in +'is heid." + +"Ye're an auld dog, Bobby, an' ye canna deny it. Ye'll juist hae to +sleep i' the hoose the misty nicht." + +Loath to part with them, Bobby went up to the lodge with the old couple +and saw them within the cheerful kitchen. But when the door was held +open for him, he wagged his tail in farewell and trotted away around +the kirk. All the concession he was willing to make to old age and bad +weather was to sleep under the fallen table-tomb. + +Greyfriars on a dripping autumn evening! A pensive hour and season, +everything memorable brooded there. Crouched back in shadowy ranks, the +old tombs were draped in mystery. The mist was swirled by the wind and +smoke smeared out, over their dim shapes. Where families sat close about +scant suppers, the lights of candles and cruisey lamps were blurred. The +faintest halo hung above the Castle head. Infrequent footsteps hurried +by the gate. There was the rattle of a belated cart, the ring of a +distant church bell. But even on such nights the casements were opened +and little faces looked into the melancholy kirkyard. Candles glimmered +for a moment on the murk, and sweetly and clearly the tenement bairns +called down: + +"A gude nicht to ye, Bobby." + +They could not see the little dog, but they knew he was there. They knew +now that he would still be there when they could see him no more--his +body a part of the soil, his memory a part of all that was held dear and +imperishable in that old garden of souls. They could go up to the lodge +and look at his famous collar, and they would have his image in bronze +on the fountain. And sometime, when the mysterious door opened for +them, they might see Bobby again, a sonsie doggie running on the green +pastures and beside the still waters, at the heels of his shepherd +master, for: + +If there is not more love in this world than there is room for in God's +heaven, Bobby would just have "gaen awa' hame." + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Greyfriars Bobby, by Eleanor Atkinson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GREYFRIARS BOBBY *** + +***** This file should be named 2693.txt or 2693.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/9/2693/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteeer + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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He was only a little country dog--the very +youngest and smallest and shaggiest of Skye terriers--bred on a +heathery slope of the Pentland hills, where the loudest sound was +the bark of a collie or the tinkle of a sheep-bell. That morning +he had come to the weekly market with Auld Jock, a farm laborer, +and the Grassmarket of the Scottish capital lay in the narrow +valley at the southern base of Castle Crag. Two hundred feet +above it the time-gun was mounted in the half-moon battery on an +overhanging, crescent-shaped ledge of rock. In any part of the +city the report of the one-o'clock gun was sufficiently alarming, +but in the Grassmarket it was an earth-rending explosion directly +overhead. It needed to be heard but once there to be registered +on even a little dog's brain. Bobby had heard it many times, and +he never failed to yelp a sharp protest at the outrage to his +ears; but, as the gunshot was always followed by a certain happy +event, it started in his active little mind a train of pleasant +associations. + +In Bobby's day of youth, and that was in 1858, when Queen +Victoria was a happy wife and mother, with all her bairns about +her knees in Windsor or Balmoral, the Grassmarket of Edinburgh +was still a bit of the Middle Ages, as picturesquely decaying and +Gothic as German Nuremberg. Beside the classic corn exchange, it +had no modern buildings. North and south, along its greatest +length, the sunken quadrangle was faced by tall, old, +timber-fronted houses of stone, plastered like swallows' nests to +the rocky slopes behind them. + +Across the eastern end, where the valley suddenly narrowed to the +ravine-like street of the Cowgate, the market was spanned by the +lofty, crowded arches of George IV Bridge. This high-hung, +viaduct thoroughfare, that carried a double line of buildings +within its parapet, leaped the gorge, from the tall, old, Gothic +rookeries on High Street ridge, just below the Castle esplanade. +It cleared the roofs of the tallest, oldest houses that swarmed +up the steep banks from the Cowgate, and ran on, by easy descent, +to the main gateway of Greyfriars kirkyard at the lower top of +the southern rise. + +Greyfriars' two kirks formed together, under one continuous roof, +a long, low, buttressed building without tower or spire. The new +kirk was of Queen Anne's day, but the old kirk was built before +ever the Pilgrims set sail for America. It had been but one of +several sacred buildings, set in a monastery garden that sloped +pleasantly to the open valley of the Grassmarket, and looked up +the Castle heights unhindered. In Bobby's day this garden had +shrunk to a long, narrow, high-piled burying-ground, that +extended from the rear of the line of buildings that fronted on +the market, up the slope, across the hilltop, and to where the +land began to fall away again, down the Burghmuir. From the +Grassmarket, kirk and kirkyard lay hidden behind and above the +crumbling grandeur of noble halls and mansions that had fallen to +the grimiest tenements of Edinburgh's slums. From the end of the +bridge approach there was a glimpse of massive walls, of pointed +windows, and of monumental tombs through a double-leafed gate of +wrought iron, that was alcoved and wedged in between the ancient +guildhall of the candlemakers and a row of prosperous little +shops in Greyfriars Place. + +A rock-rimmed quarry pit, in the very heart of Old Edinburgh, the +Grassmarket was a place of historic echoes. The yelp of a little +dog there would scarce seem worthy of record. More in harmony +with its stirring history was the report of the time-gun. At one +o'clock every day, there was a puff of smoke high up in the blue +or gray or squally sky, then a deafening crash and a back fire +fusillade of echoes. The oldest frequenter of the market never +got used to it. On Wednesday, as the shot broke across the babel +of shrill bargaining, every man in the place jumped, and not one +was quicker of recovery than wee Bobby. Instantly ashamed, as an +intelligent little dog who knew the import of the gun should be, +Bobby denied his alarm in a tiny pink yawn of boredom. Then he +went briskly about his urgent business of finding Auld Jock. + +The market was closed. In five minutes the great open space was +as empty of living men as Greyfriars kirkyard on a week-day. +Drovers and hostlers disappeared at once into the cheap and noisy +entertainment of the White Hart Inn that fronted the market and +set its squalid back against Castle Rock. Farmers rapidly +deserted it for the clean country. Dwellers in the tenements +darted up wynds and blind closes, climbed twisting turnpike +stairs to windy roosts under the gables, or they scuttled through +noble doors into foul courts and hallways. Beggars and +pickpockets swarmed under the arches of the bridge, to swell the +evil smelling human river that flowed at the dark and slimy +bottom of the Cowgate. + +A chill November wind tore at the creaking iron cross of the +Knights of St. John, on the highest gable of the Temple +tenements, that turned its decaying back on the kirkyard of the +Greyfriars. Low clouds were tangled and torn on the Castle +battlements. A few horses stood about, munching oats from +feed-boxes. Flocks of sparrows fluttered down from timbered +galleries and rocky ledges to feast on scattered grain. Swallows +wheeled in wide, descending spirals from mud villages under the +cornices to catch flies. Rats scurried out of holes and gleaned +in the deserted corn exchange. And 'round and 'round the empty +market-place raced the frantic little terrier in search of Auld +Jock. + +Bobby knew, as well as any man, that it was the dinner hour. With +the time-gun it was Auld Jock's custom to go up to a snug little +restaurant; that was patronized chiefly by the decent poor small +shopkeepers, clerks, tenant farmers, and medical students living +in cheap lodgings--in Greyfriars Place. There, in Ye Olde +Greyfriars Dining-Rooms, owned by Mr. John Traill, and four doors +beyond the kirkyard gate, was a cozy little inglenook that Auld +Jock and Bobby had come to look upon as their own. At its back, +above a recessed oaken settle and a table, a tiny paned window +looked up and over a retaining wall into the ancient place of the +dead. + +The view of the heaped-up and crowded mounds and thickets of old +slabs and throughstones, girt all about by time-stained monuments +and vaults, and shut in on the north and east by the backs of +shops and lofty slum tenements, could not be said to be cheerful. +It suited Auld Jock, however, for what mind he had was of a +melancholy turn. From his place on the floor, between his +master's hob-nailed boots, Bobby could not see the kirkyard, but +it would not, in any case, have depressed his spirits. He did not +know the face of death and, a merry little ruffian of a terrier, +he was ready for any adventure. + +On the stone gate pillar was a notice in plain English that no +dogs were permitted in Greyfriars. As well as if he could read, +Bobby knew that the kirkyard was forbidden ground. He had learned +that by bitter experience. Once, when the little wicket gate that +held the two tall leaves ajar by day, chanced to be open, he had +joyously chased a cat across the graves and over the western wall +onto the broad green lawn of Heriot's Hospital. + +There the little dog's escapade bred other mischief, for Heriot's +Hospital was not a hospital at all, in the modern English sense +of being a refuge for the sick. Built and christened in a day +when a Stuart king reigned in Holyrood Palace, and French was +spoken in the Scottish court, Heriot's was a splendid pile of a +charity school, all towers and battlements, and cheerful color, +and countless beautiful windows. Endowed by a beruffed and +doubleted goldsmith, "Jinglin' Geordie" Heriot, who had "nae +brave laddie o' his ain," it was devoted to the care and +education of "puir orphan an' faderless boys." There it had stood +for more than two centuries, in a spacious park, like the +country-seat of a Lowland laird, but hemmed in by sordid markets +and swarming slums. The region round about furnished an unfailing +supply of "puir orphan an' faderless boys" who were as +light-hearted and irresponsible as Bobby. + +Hundreds of the Heriot laddies were out in the noon recess, +playing cricket and leap-frog, when Bobby chased that unlucky cat +over the kirkyard wall. He could go no farther himself, but the +laddies took up the pursuit, yelling like Highland clans of old +in a foray across the border. The unholy din disturbed the sacred +peace of the kirkyard. Bobby dashed back, barking furiously, in +pure exuberance of spirits. He tumbled gaily over grassy +hummocks, frisked saucily around terrifying old mausoleums, +wriggled under the most enticing of low-set table tombs and +sprawled, exhausted, but still happy and noisy, at Auld Jock's +feet. + +It was a scandalous thing to happen in any kirkyard! The angry +caretaker was instantly out of his little stone lodge by the gate +and taking Auld Jock sharply to task for Bobby's misbehavior. +The pious old shepherd, shocked himself and publicly disgraced, +stood, bonnet in hand, humbly apologetic. Seeing that his master +was getting the worst of it, Bobby rushed into the fray, an +animated little muff of pluck and fury, and nipped the +caretaker's shins. There was a howl of pain, and a "maist michty" +word that made the ancient tombs stand aghast. Master and dog +were hustled outside the gate and into a rabble of jeering slum +gamin. + +What a to-do about a miserable cat! To Bobby there was no logic +at all in the denouement to this swift, exciting drama. But he +understood Auld Jock's shame and displeasure perfectly. +Good-tempered as he was gay and clever, the little dog took his +punishment meekly, and he remembered it. Thereafter, he passed +the kirk yard gate decorously. If he saw a cat that needed +harrying he merely licked his little red chops--the outward sign +of a desperate self-control. And, a true sport, he bore no malice +toward the caretaker. + +During that first summer of his life Bobby learned many things. +He learned that he might chase rabbits, squirrels and moor-fowl, +and sea-gulls and whaups that came up to feed in plowed fields. +Rats and mice around byre and dairy were legitimate prey; but he +learned that he must not annoy sheep and sheep-dogs, nor cattle, +horses and chickens. And he discovered that, unless he hung close +to Auld Jock's heels, his freedom was in danger from a wee lassie +who adored him. He was no lady's lap-dog. From the bairnie's soft +cosseting he aye fled to Auld Jock and the rough hospitality of +the sheep fold. Being exact opposites in temperaments, but alike +in tastes, Bobby and Auld Jock were inseparable. In the quiet +corner of Mr. Traill's crowded dining-room they spent the one +idle hour of the week together, happily. Bobby had the leavings +of a herring or haddie, for a rough little Skye will eat anything +from smoked fish to moor-fowl eggs, and he had the tidbit of a +farthing bone to worry at his leisure. Auld Jock smoked his cutty +pipe, gazed at the fire or into the kirk-yard, and meditated on +nothing in particular. + +In some strange way that no dog could understand, Bobby had been +separated from Auld Jock that November morning. The tenant of +Cauldbrae farm had driven the cart in, himself, and that was +unusual. Immediately he had driven out again, leaving Auld Jock +behind, and that was quite outside Bobby's brief experience of +life. Beguiled to the lofty and coveted driver's seat where, with +lolling tongue, he could view this interesting world between the +horse's ears, Bobby had been spirited out of the city and carried +all the way down and up to the hilltop toll-bar of Fairmilehead. +It could not occur to his loyal little heart that this treachery +was planned nor, stanch little democrat that he was, that the +farmer was really his owner, and that he could not follow a +humbler master of his own choosing. He might have been carried to +the distant farm, and shut safely in the byre with the cows for +the night, but for an incautious remark of the farmer. With the +first scent of the native heather the horse quickened his pace, +and, at sight of the purple slopes of the Pentlands looming +homeward, a fond thought at the back of the man's mind very +naturally took shape in speech. + +"Eh, Bobby; the wee lassie wull be at the tap o' the brae to race +ye hame." + +Bobby pricked his drop ears. Within a narrow limit, and +concerning familiar things, the understanding of human speech by +these intelligent little terriers is very truly remarkable. At +mention of the wee lassie he looked behind for his rough old +friend and unfailing refuge. Auld Jock's absence discovered, +Bobby promptly dropped from the seat of honor and from the cart +tail, sniffed the smoke of Edinboro' town and faced right about. +To the farmer's peremptory call he returned the spicy repartee of +a cheerful bark. It was as much as to say: + +"Dinna fash yersel'! I ken what I'm aboot." + +After an hour's hard run back over the dipping and rising country +road and a long quarter circuit of the city, Bobby found the +high-walled, winding way into the west end of the Grassmarket. To +a human being afoot there was a shorter cut, but the little dog +could only retrace the familiar route of the farm carts. It was a +notable feat for a small creature whose tufted legs were not more +than six inches in length, whose thatch of long hair almost swept +the roadway and caught at every burr and bramble, and who was +still so young that his nose could not be said to be educated. + +In the market-place he ran here and there through the crowd, +hopefully investigating narrow closes that were mere rifts in +precipices of buildings; nosing outside stairs, doorways, +stables, bridge arches, standing carts, and even hob-nailed +boots. He yelped at the crash of the gun, but it was another +matter altogether that set his little heart to palpitating with +alarm. It was the dinner-hour, and where was Auld Jock? + +Ah! A happy thought: his master had gone to dinner! + +A human friend would have resented the idea of such base +desertion and sulked. But in a little dog's heart of trust there +is no room for suspicion. The thought simply lent wings to +Bobby's tired feet. As the market-place emptied he chased at the +heels of laggards, up the crescent-shaped rise of Candlemakers +Row, and straight on to the familiar dining-rooms. Through the +forest of table and chair and human legs he made his way to the +back, to find a soldier from the Castle, in smart red coat and +polished boots, lounging in Auld Jock's inglenook. + +Bobby stood stock still for a shocked instant. Then he howled +dismally and bolted for the door. Mr. John Traill, the +smooth-shaven, hatchet-faced proprietor, standing midway in +shirtsleeves and white apron, caught the flying terrier between +his legs and gave him a friendly clap on the side. + +"Did you come by your ainsel' with a farthing in your silky-purse +ear to buy a bone, Bobby? Whaur's Auld Jock?" + +A fear may be crowded back into the mind and stoutly denied so +long as it is not named. At the good landlord's very natural +question "Whaur's Auld Jock?" there was the shape of the little +dog's fear that he had lost his master. With a whimpering cry he +struggled free. Out of the door he went, like a shot. He tumbled +down the steep curve and doubled on his tracks around the +market-place. + +At his onslaught, the sparrows rose like brown leaves on a gust +of wind, and drifted down again. A cold mist veiled the Castle +heights. From the stone crown of the ancient Cathedral of St. +Giles, on High Street, floated the melody of "The Bluebells of +Scotland." No day was too bleak for bell-ringer McLeod to climb +the shaking ladder in the windy tower and play the music bells +during the hour that Edinburgh dined. Bobby forgot to dine that +day, first in his distracted search, and then in his joy of +finding his master. + +For, all at once, in the very strangest place, in the very +strangest way, Bobby came upon Auld Jock. A rat scurrying out +from a foul and narrow passage that gave to the rear of the +White Hart Inn, pointed the little dog to a nook hitherto +undiscovered by his curious nose. Hidden away between the noisy +tavern and the grim, island crag was the old cock-fighting pit of +a ruder day. There, in a broken-down carrier's cart, abandoned +among the nameless abominations of publichouse refuse, Auld Jock +lay huddled in his greatcoat of hodden gray and his shepherd's +plaid. On a bundle of clothing tied in a tartan kerchief for a +pillow, he lay very still and breathing heavily. + +Bobby barked as if he would burst his lungs. He barked so long, +so loud, and so furiously, running 'round and 'round the cart and +under it and yelping at every turn, that a slatternly scullery +maid opened a door and angrily bade him "no' to deave folk wi' +'is blatterin'." Auld Jock she did not see at all in the murky +pit or, if she saw him, thought him some drunken foreign sailor +from Leith harbor. When she went in, she slammed the door and +lighted the gas. + +Whether from some instinct of protection of his helpless master +in that foul and hostile place, or because barking had proved to +be of no use Bobby sat back on his haunches and considered this +strange, disquieting thing. It was not like Auld Jock to sleep in +the daytime, or so soundly, at any time, that barking would not +awaken him. A clever and resourceful dog, Bobby crouched back +against the farthest wall, took a running leap to the top of the +low boots, dug his claws into the stout, home knitted stockings, +and scrambled up over Auld Jock's legs into the cart. In an +instant he poked his little black mop of a wet muzzle into his +master's face and barked once, sharply, in his ear. + +To Bobby's delight Auld Jock sat up and blinked his eyes. The old +eyes were brighter, the grizzled face redder than was natural, +but such matters were quite outside of the little dog's ken. It +was a dazed moment before the man remembered that Bobby should +not be there. He frowned down at the excited little creature, who +was wagging satisfaction from his nose-tip to the end of his +crested tail, in a puzzled effort to remember why. + +"Eh, Bobby!" His tone was one of vague reproof. "Nae doot ye're +fair satisfied wi' yer ainsel'." + +Bobby's feathered tail drooped, but it still quivered, all ready +to wag again at the slightest encouragement. Auld Jock stared at +him stupidly, his dizzy head in his hands. A very tired, very +draggled little dog, Bobby dropped beside his master, panting, +subdued by the reproach, but happy. His soft eyes, veiled by the +silvery fringe that fell from his high forehead, were deep brown +pools of affection. Auld Jock forgot, by and by, that Bobby +should not be there, and felt only the comfort of his +companionship. + +"Weel, Bobby," he began again, uncertainly. And then, because his +Scotch peasant reticence had been quite broken down by Bobby's +shameless devotion, so that he told the little dog many things +that he cannily concealed from human kind, he confided the +strange weakness and dizziness in the head that had overtaken +him: "Auld Jock is juist fair silly the day, bonny wee laddie." + +Down came a shaking, hot old hand in a rough caress, and up a +gallant young tail to wave like a banner. All was right with the +little dog's world again. But it was plain, even to Bobby, that +something had gone wrong with Auld Jock. It was the man who wore +the air of a culprit. A Scotch laborer does not lightly confess +to feeling "fair silly," nor sleep away the busy hours of +daylight. The old man was puzzled and humiliated by this +discreditable thing. A human friend would have understood his +plight, led the fevered man out of that bleak and fetid +cul-de-sac, tucked him into a warm bed, comforted him with a hot +drink, and then gone swiftly for skilled help. Bobby knew only +that his master had unusual need of love. + +Very, very early a dog learns that life is not as simple a matter +to his master as it is to himself. There are times when he reads +trouble, that he cannot help or understand, in the man's eye and +voice. Then he can only look his love and loyalty, wistfully, as +if he felt his own shortcoming in the matter of speech. And if +the trouble is so great that the master forgets to eat his +dinner; forgets, also, the needs of his faithful little friend, +it is the dog's dear privilege to bear neglect and hunger without +complaint. Therefore, when Auld Jock lay down again and sank, +almost at once, into sodden sleep, Bobby snuggled in the hollow +of his master's arm and nuzzled his nose in his master's neck. + + + +II. + +While the bells played "There Grows a Bonny Briarbush in Our Kale +Yard," Auld Jock and Bobby slept. They slept while the tavern +emptied itself of noisy guests and clattering crockery was +washed at the dingy, gas-lighted windows that overlooked the +cockpit. They slept while the cold fell with the falling day and +the mist was whipped into driving rain. Almost a cave, between +shelving rock and house wall, a gust of wind still found its way +in now and then. At a splash of rain Auld Jock stirred uneasily +in his sleep. Bobby merely sniffed the freshened air with +pleasure and curled himself up for another nap. + +No rain could wet Bobby. Under his rough outer coat, that was +parted along the back as neatly as the thatch along a cottage +ridge-pole, was a dense, woolly fleece that defied wind and rain, +snow and sleet to penetrate. He could not know that nature had +not been as generous in protecting his master against the +weather. Although of a subarctic breed, fitted to live +shelterless if need be, and to earn his living by native wit, +Bobby had the beauty, the grace, and the charming manners of a +lady's pet. In a litter of prick-eared, wire-haired puppies Bobby +was a "sport." + +It is said that some of the ships of the Spanish Armada, +with French poodles in the officers' cabins, were blown far north +and west, and broken up on the icy coasts of The Hebrides and +Skye. Some such crossing of his far-away ancestry, it would +seem, had given a greater length and a crisp wave to Bobby's +outer coat, dropped and silkily fringed his ears, and powdered +his useful, slate-gray color with silver frost. But he had the +hardiness and intelligence of the sturdier breed, and the +instinct of devotion to the working master. So he had turned from +a soft-hearted bit lassie of a mistress, and the cozy chimney +corner of the farm-house kitchen, and linked his fortunes with +this forlorn old laborer. + +A grizzled, gnarled little man was Auld Jock, of tough fiber, but +worn out at last by fifty winters as a shepherd on the bleak +hills of Midlothian and Fife, and a dozen more in the low stables +and storm-buffeted garrets of Edinburgh. He had come into the +world unnoted in a shepherd's lonely cot. With little wit of mind +or skill of hand he had been a common tool, used by this master +and that for the roughest tasks, when needed, put aside, passed +on, and dropped out of mind. Nothing ever belonged to the man but +his scant earnings. Wifeless, cotless, bairnless, he had slept, +since early boyhood, under strange roofs, eaten the bread of the +hireling, and sat dumb at other men's firesides. If he had +another name it had been forgotten. In youth he was Jock; in age, +Auld Jock. + +In his sixty-third summer there was a belated blooming in Auld +Jock's soul. Out of some miraculous caprice Bobby lavished on him +a riotous affection. Then up out of the man's subconscious memory +came words learned from the lips of a long-forgotten mother. They +were words not meant for little dogs at all, but for sweetheart, +wife and bairn. Auld Jock used them cautiously, fearing to be +overheard, for the matter was a subject of wonder and rough jest +at the farm. He used them when Bobby followed him at the +plow-tail or scampered over the heather with him behind the +flocks. He used them on the market-day journeyings, and on summer +nights, when the sea wind came sweetly from the broad Firth and +the two slept, like vagabonds, on a haycock under the stars. The +purest pleasure Auld Jock ever knew was the taking of a bright +farthing from his pocket to pay for Bobby's delectable bone in +Mr. Traill's place. + +Given what was due him that morning and dismissed for the season +to find such work as he could in the city, Auld Jock did not +question the farmer's right to take Bobby "back hame." Besides, +what could he do with the noisy little rascal in an Edinburgh +lodging? But, duller of wit than usual, feeling very old and +lonely, and shaky on his legs, and dizzy in his head, Auld Jock +parted with Bobby and with his courage, together. With the +instinct of the dumb animal that suffers, he stumbled into the +foul nook and fell, almost at once, into a heavy sleep. Out of +that Bobby roused him but briefly. + +Long before his master awoke, Bobby finished his series of +refreshing little naps, sat up, yawned, stretched his short, +shaggy legs, sniffed at Auld Jock experimentally, and trotted +around the bed of the cart on a tour of investigation. This +proving to be of small interest and no profit, he lay down again +beside his master, nose on paws, and waited Auld Jock's pleasure +patiently. A sweep of drenching rain brought the old man suddenly +to his feet and stumbling into the market place. The alert little +dog tumbled about him, barking ecstatically. The fever was gone +and Auld Jock's head quite clear; but in its place was a +weakness, an aching of the limbs, a weight on the chest, and a +great shivering. + +Although the bell of St. Giles was just striking the hour of +five, it was already entirely dark. A lamp-lighter, with ladder +and torch, was setting a double line of gas jets to flaring along +the lofty parapets of the bridge. If the Grassmarket was a quarry +pit by day, on a night of storm it was the bottom of a +reservoir. The height of the walls was marked by a luminous crown +from many lights above the Castle head, and by a student's dim +candle, here and there, at a garret window. The huge bulk of the +bridge cast a shadow, velvet black, across the eastern half of +the market. + +Had not Bobby gone before and barked, and run back, again and +again, and jumped up on Auld Jock's legs, the man might never +have won his way across the drowned place, in the inky blackness +and against the slanted blast of icy rain. When he gained the +foot of Candlemakers Row, a crescent of tall, old houses that +curved upward around the lower end of Greyfriars kirkyard, water +poured upon him from the heavy timbered gallery of the Cunzie +Neuk, once the royal mint. The carting office that occupied the +street floor was closed, or Auld Jock would have sought shelter +there. He struggled up the rise, made slippery by rain and grime. +Then, as the street turned southward in its easy curve, there was +some shelter from the house walls. But Auld Jock was quite +exhausted and incapable of caring for himself. In the ancient +guildhall of the candlemakers, at the top of the Row, was another +carting office and Harrow Inn, a resort of country carriers. The +man would have gone in there where he was quite unknown or, +indeed, he might even have lain down in the bleak court that gave +access to the tenements above, but for Bobby's persistent and +cheerful barking, begging and nipping. + +"Maister, maister!" he said, as plainly as a little dog could +speak, "dinna bide here. It's juist a stap or two to food an' +fire in' the cozy auld ingleneuk." + +And then, the level roadway won at last, there was the railing +of the bridge-approach to cling to, on the one hand, and the +upright bars of the kirkyard gate on the other. By the help of +these and the urging of wee Bobby, Auld Jock came the short, +steep way up out of the market, to the row of lighted shops in +Greyfriars Place. + +With the wind at the back and above the housetops, Mr. Traill +stood bare-headed in a dry haven of peace in his doorway, +firelight behind him, and welcome in his shrewd gray eyes. If +Auld Jock had shown any intention of going by, it is not +impossible that the landlord of Ye Olde Greyfriars Dining-Rooms +might have dragged him in bodily. The storm had driven all his +customers home. For an hour there had not been a soul in the +place to speak to, and it was so entirely necessary for John +Traill to hear his own voice that he had been known, in such +straits, to talk to himself. Auld Jock was not an inspiring +auditor, but a deal better than naething; and, if he proved +hopeless, entertainment was to be found in Bobby. So Mr. Traill +bustled in before his guests, poked the open fire into leaping +flames, and heaped it up skillfully at the back with fresh coals. +The good landlord turned from his hospitable task to find Auld +Jock streaming and shaking on the hearth. + +"Man, but you're wet!" he exclaimed. He hustled the old shepherd +out of his dripping plaid and greatcoat and spread them to the +blaze. Auld Jock found a dry, knitted Tam-o'-Shanter bonnet in +his little bundle and set it on his head. It was a moment or two +before he could speak without the humiliating betrayal of +chattering teeth. + +"Ay, it's a misty nicht," he admitted, with caution. + +"Misty! Man, it's raining like all the seven deils were abroad." +Having delivered himself of this violent opinion, Mr. Traill fell +into his usual philosophic vein. "I have sma' patience with the +Scotch way of making little of everything. If Noah had been a +Lowland Scot he'd 'a' said the deluge was juist fair wet."' + +He laughed at his own wit, his thin-featured face and keen gray +eyes lighting up to a kindliness that his brusque speech denied +in vain. He had a fluency of good English at command that he +would have thought ostentatious to use in speaking with a simple +country body. + +Auld Jock stared at Mr. Traill and pondered the matter. By and by +he asked: "Wasna the deluge fair wet?" + +The landlord sighed but, brought to book like that, admitted that +it was. Conversation flagged, however, while he busied himself +with toasting a smoked herring, and dragging roasted potatoes +from the little iron oven that was fitted into the brickwork of +the fireplace beside the grate. + +Bobby was attending to his own entertainment. The familiar place +wore a new and enchanting aspect, and needed instant exploration. +By day it was fitted with tables, picketed by chairs and all +manner of boots. Noisy and crowded, a little dog that wandered +about there was liable to be trodden upon. On that night of storm +it was a vast, bright place, so silent one could hear the ticking +of the wag-at-the-wa' clock, the crisp crackling of the flames, +and the snapping of the coals. The uncovered deal tables were set +back in a double line along one wall, with the chairs piled on +top, leaving a wide passage of freshly scrubbed and sanded oaken +floor from the door to the fireplace. Firelight danced on the +dark old wainscoting and high, carved overmantel, winked on rows +of drinking mugs and metal covers over cold meats on the buffet, +and even picked out the gilt titles on the backs of a shelf of +books in Mr. Traill's private corner behind the bar. + +Bobby shook himself on the hearth to free his rain-coat of +surplus water. To the landlord's dry "We're no' needing a shower +in the house. Lie down, Bobby," he wagged his tail politely, as a +sign that he heard. But, as Auld Jock did not repeat the order, +he ignored it and scampered busily about the room, leaving little +trails of wet behind him. + +This grill-room of Traill's place was more like the parlor of a +country inn, or a farm-house kitchen if there had been a built-in +bed or two, than a restaurant in the city. There, a humble man +might see his herring toasted, his bannocks baked on the +oven-top, or his tea brewed to his liking. On such a night as +this the landlord would pull the settle out of the inglenook to +the set before the solitary guest a small table, and keep the +kettle on the hob. + +"Spread yoursel' on both sides o' the fire, man. There'll be nane +to keep us company, I'm thinking. Ilka man that has a roof o' his +ain will be wearing it for a bonnet the nicht." + +As there was no answer to this, the skilled conversational angler +dropped a bit of bait that the wariest man must rise to. + +"That's a vera intelligent bit dog, Auld Jock. He was here with +the time-gun spiering for you. When he didna find you he greeted +like a bairn." + +Auld Jock, huddled in the corner of the settle, so near the fire +that his jacket smoked, took so long a time to find an answer +that Mr. Traill looked at him keenly as he set the wooden plate +and pewter mug on the table. + +"Man, you're vera ill," he cried, sharply. In truth he was +shocked and self-accusing because he had not observed Auld Jock's +condition before. + +"I'm no' so awfu' ill," came back in irritated denial, as if he +had been accused of some misbehavior. + +"Weel, it's no' a dry herrin' ye'll hae in my shop the nicht. +It's a hot mutton broo wi' porridge in it, an' bits o' meat to +tak' the cauld oot o' yer auld banes." + +And there, the plate was whisked away, and the cover lifted from +a bubbling pot, and the kettle was over the fire for the brewing +of tea. At a peremptory order the soaked boots and stockings were +off, and dry socks found in the kerchief bundle. Auld Jock was +used to taking orders from his superiors, and offered no +resistance to being hustled after this manner into warmth and +good cheer. Besides, who could have withstood that flood of +homely speech on which the good landlord came right down to the +old shepherd's humble level? Such warm feeling was established +that Mr. Traill quite forgot his usual caution and certain +well-known prejudices of old country bodies. + +"Noo," he said cheerfully, as he set the hot broth on the table, +"ye maun juist hae a doctor." + +A doctor is the last resort of the unlettered poor. The very +threat of one to the Scotch peasant of a half-century ago was a +sentence of death. Auld Jock blanched, and he shook so that he +dropped his spoon. Mr. Traill hastened to undo the mischief. + +"It's no' a doctor ye'll be needing, ava, but a bit dose o' +physic an' a bed in the infirmary a day or twa." + +"I wullna gang to the infairmary. It's juist for puir toon bodies +that are aye ailin' an' deein'." Fright and resentment lent the +silent old man an astonishing eloquence for the moment. "Ye wadna +gang to the infairmary yer ainsel', an' tak' charity." + +"Would I no'? I would go if I so much as cut my sma' finger; and +I would let a student laddie bind it up for me." + +"Weel, ye're a saft ane," said Auld Jock. + +It was a terrible word--"saft!" John Traill flushed darkly, and +relapsed into discouraged silence. Deep down in his heart he knew +that a regiment of soldiers from the Castle could not take him +alive, a free patient, into the infirmary. + +But what was one to do but "lee," right heartily, for the good of +this very sick, very poor, homeless old man on a night of +pitiless storm? That he had "lee'd" to no purpose and got a +"saft" name for it was a blow to his pride. + +Hearing the clatter of fork and spoon, Bobby trotted from behind +the bar and saved the day of discomfiture. Time for dinner, +indeed! Up he came on his hind legs and politely begged his +master for food. It was the prettiest thing he could do, and the +landlord delighted in him. + +"Gie 'im a penny plate o' the gude broo," said Auld Jock, and he +took the copper coin from his pocket to pay for it. He forgot his +own meal in watching the hungry little creature eat. Warmed +and softened by Mr. Traill's kindness, and by the heartening +food, Auld Jock betrayed a thought that had rankled in the depths +of his mind all day. + +"Bobby isna ma ain dog." His voice was dull and unhappy. + +Ah, here was misery deeper than any physical ill! The penny was +his, a senseless thing; but, poor, old, sick, hameless and +kinless, the little dog that loved and followed him "wasna his +ain." To hide the huskiness in his own voice Mr. Traill relapsed +into broad, burry Scotch. + +"Dinna fash yersel', man. The wee beastie is maist michty fond o' +ye, an' ilka dog aye chooses 'is ain maister." + +Auld Jock shook his head and gave a brief account of Bobby's +perversity. On the very next market-day the little dog must be +restored to the tenant of Cauldbrae farm and, if necessary, tied +in the cart. It was unlikely, young as he was, that he would try +to find his way back, all the way from near the top of the +Pentlands. In a day or two he would forget Auld Jock. + +"I canna say it wullna be sair partin'--" And then, seeing the +sympathy in the landlord's eye and fearing a disgraceful +breakdown, Auld Jock checked his self betrayal. During the talk +Bobby stood listening. At the abrupt ending, he put his shagged +paws up on Auld Jock's knee, wistfully inquiring about this +emotional matter. Then he dropped soberly, and slunk away under +his master's chair. + +"Ay, he kens we're talkin' aboot 'im." + +"He's a knowing bit dog. Have you attended to his sairous +education, man?" + +"Nae, he's ower young." + +"Young is aye the time to teach a dog or a bairn that life is no' +all play. Man, you should put a sma' terrier at the vermin an' +mak' him usefu'." + +"It's eneugh, gin he's gude company for the wee lassie wha's fair +fond o' 'im," Auld Jock answered, briefly. This was a strange +sentiment from the work-broken old man who, for himself, would +have held ornamental idleness sinful. He finished his supper in +brooding silence. At last he broke out in a peevish irritation +that only made his grief at parting with Bobby more apparent to +an understanding man like Mr. Traill. + +"I dinna ken what to do wi' 'im i' an Edinburgh lodgin' the +nicht. The auld wifie I lodge wi' is dour by the ordinar', an' +wadna bide 'is blatterin'. I couldna get 'im past 'er auld een, +an' thae terriers are aye barkin' aboot naethin' ava." + +Mr. Traill's eyes sparkled at recollection of an apt literary +story to which Dr. John Brown had given currency. Like many +Edinburgh shopkeepers, Mr. Traill was a man of superior education +and an omnivorous reader. And he had many customers from the +near-by University to give him a fund of stories of Scotch +writers and other worthies. + +"You have a double plaid, man?" + +"Ay. Ilka shepherd's got a twa-fold plaidie." It seemed a foolish +question to Auld Jock, but Mr. Traill went on blithely. + +"There's a pocket in the plaid--ane end left open at the side to +mak' a pouch? Nae doubt you've carried mony a thing in that +pouch?" + +"Nae, no' so mony. Juist the new-born lambs." + +"Weel, Sir Walter had a shepherd's plaid, and there was a bit +lassie he was vera fond of Syne, when he had been at the writing +a' the day, and was aff his heid like, with too mony thoughts, +he'd go across the town and fetch the bairnie to keep him +company. She was a weel-born lassie, sax or seven years auld, and +sma' of her age, but no' half as sma' as Bobby, I'm thinking." He +stopped to let this significant comparison sink into Auld Jock's +mind. "The lassie had nae liking for the unmannerly wind and snaw +of Edinburgh. So Sir Walter just happed her in the pouch of his +plaid, and tumbled her out, snug as a lamb and nane the wiser, in +the big room wha's walls were lined with books." + +Auld Jock betrayed not a glimmer of intelligence as to the +personal bearing of the story, but he showed polite interest. "I +ken naethin' aboot Sir Walter or ony o' the grand folk." Mr. +Traill sighed, cleared the table in silence, and mended the fire. +It was ill having no one to talk to but a simple old body who +couldn't put two and two together and make four. + +The landlord lighted his pipe meditatively, and he lighted his +cruisey lamp for reading. Auld Jock was dry and warm again; oh, +very, very warm, so that he presently fell into a doze. The +dining-room was so compassed on all sides but the front by +neighboring house and kirkyard wall and by the floors above, that +only a murmur of the storm penetrated it. It was so quiet, +indeed, that a tiny, scratching sound in a distant corner was +heard distinctly. A streak of dark silver, as of animated +mercury, Bobby flashed past. A scuffle, a squeak, and he was back +again, dropping a big rat at the landlord's feet and, wagging his +tail with pride. + +"Weel done, Bobby! There's a bite and a bone for you here ony +time o' day you call for it. Ay, a sensible bit dog will attend +to his ain education and mak' himsel' usefu'." + +Mr. Traill felt a sudden access of warm liking for the attractive +little scrap of knowingness and pluck. He patted the tousled +head, but Bobby backed away. He had no mind to be caressed by any +man beside his master. After a moment the landlord took "Guy +Mannering" down from the book-shelf. Knowing his "Waverley" by +heart, he turned at once to the passages about Dandie Dinmont and +his terriers--Mustard and Pepper and other spicy wee rascals. + +"Ay, terriers are sonsie, leal dogs. Auld Jock will have ane true +mourner at his funeral. I would no' mind if--" + +On impulse he got up and dropped a couple of hard Scotch buns, +very good dog-biscuit, indeed, into the pocket of Auld Jock's +greatcoat for Bobby. The old man might not be able to be out the +morn. With the thought in his mind that some one should keep a +friendly eye on the man, he mended the fire with such an +unnecessary clattering of the tongs that Auld Jock started from +his sleep with a cry. + +"Whaur is it you have your lodging, Jock?" the landlord asked, +sharply, for the man looked so dazed that his understanding was +not to be reached easily. He got the indefinite information that +it was at the top of one of the tall, old tenements "juist aff +the Coogate." + +"A lang climb for an auld man," John Traill said, +compassionately; then, optimistic as usual, "but it's a lang +climb or a foul smell, in the poor quarters of Edinburgh." + +"Ay. It's weel aboon the fou' smell." With some comforting +thought that he did not confide to Mr. Traill but that ironed +lines out of his old face, Auld Jock went to sleep again. Well, +the landlord reflected, he could remain there by the fire until +the closing hour or later, if need be, and by that time the storm +might ease a bit, so that he could get to his lodging without +another wetting. + +For an hour the place was silent, except for the falling clinkers +from the grate, the rustling of book-leaves, and the plumping of +rain on the windows, when the wind shifted a point. Lost in the +romance, Mr. Traill took no note of the passing time or of his +quiet guests until he felt a little tug at his trouser-leg. + +"Eh, laddie?" he questioned. Up the little dog rose in the +begging attitude. Then, with a sharp bark, he dashed back to his +master. + +Something was very wrong, indeed. Auld Jock had sunk down in his +seat. His arms hung helplessly over the end and back of the +settle, and his legs were sprawled limply before him. The bonnet +that he always wore, outdoors and in, had fallen from his scant, +gray locks, and his head had dropped forward on his chest. His +breathing was labored, and he muttered in his sleep. + +In a moment Mr. Traill was inside his own greatcoat, storm boots +and bonnet. At the door he turned back. The shop was unguarded. +Although Greyfriars Place lay on the hilltop, with the sanctuary +of the kirkyard behind it, and the University at no great +distance in front, it was but a step up from the thief-infested +gorge of the Cowgate. The landlord locked his moneydrawer, pushed +his easy-chair against it, and roused Auld Jock so far as to move +him over from the settle. The chief responsibility he laid on the +anxious little dog, that watched his every movement. + +"Lie down, Bobby, and mind Auld Jock. And you're no' a gude dog +if you canna bark to waken the dead in the kirkyard, if ony +strange body comes about." + +"Whaur are ye gangin'?" cried Auld Jock. He was wide awake, with +burning, suspicious eyes fixed on his host. + +"Sit you down, man, with your back to my siller. I'm going for a +doctor." The noise of the storm, as he opened the door, prevented +his hearing the frightened protest: + +"Dinna ging!" + +The rain had turned to sleet, and Mr. Traill had trouble in +keeping his feet. He looked first into the famous Book Hunter's +Stall next door, on the chance of finding a medical student. The +place was open, but it had no customers. He went on to the +bridge, but there the sheriff's court, the Martyr's church, the +society halls and all the smart shops were closed, their dark +fronts lighted fitfully by flaring gas-lamps. The bitter night +had driven all Edinburgh to private cover. + +From the rear came a clear whistle. Some Heriot laddie who, +being not entirely a "puir orphan," but only "faderless" and, +therefore, living outside the school with his mother, had been +kept after nightfall because of ill-prepared lessons or +misbehavior. Mr. Traill turned, passed his own door, and went on +southward into Forest Road, that skirted the long arm of the +kirkyard. + +From the Burghmuir, all the way to the Grassmarket and the +Cowgate, was downhill. So, with arms winged, and stout legs +spread wide and braced, Geordie Ross was sliding gaily homeward, +his knitted tippet a gallant pennant behind. Here was a Mercury +for an urgent errand. + +"Laddie, do you know whaur's a doctor who can be had for a +shulling or two for a poor auld country body in my shop?" + +"Is he so awfu' ill?" Geordie asked with the morbid curiosity of +lusty boyhood. + +"He's a' that. He's aff his heid. Run, laddie, and dinna be +standing there wagging your fule tongue for naething." + +Geordie was off with speed across the bridge to High Street. Mr. +Traill struggled back to his shop, against wind and treacherous +ice, thinking what kind of a bed might be contrived for the sick +man for the night. In the morning the daft auld body could be +hurried, willy-nilly, to a bed in the infirmary. As for wee Bobby +he wouldn't mind if-- + +And there he ran into his own wide-flung door. A gale blew +through the hastily deserted place. Ashes were scattered about +the hearth, and the cruisey lamp flared in the gusts. Auld Jock +and Bobby were gone. + + + +III. + +Although dismayed and self-accusing for having frightened Auld +Jock into taking flight by his incautious talk of a doctor, not +for an instant did the landlord of Greyfriars Dining-Rooms +entertain the idea of following him. The old man had only to +cross the street and drop down the incline between the bridge +approach and the ancient Chapel of St. Magdalen to be lost in the +deepest, most densely peopled, and blackest gorge in Christendom. + +Well knowing that he was safe from pursuit, Auld Jock chuckled as +he gained the last low level. Fever lent him a brief strength, +and the cold damp was grateful to his hot skin. None were abroad +in the Cowgate; and that was lucky for, in this black hole of +Edinburgh, even so old and poor a man was liable to be set upon +by thieves, on the chance of a few shillings or pence. + +Used as he was to following flocks up treacherous braes and +through drifted glens, and surefooted as a collie, Auld Jock had +to pick his way carefully over the slimy, ice-glazed cobble +stones of the Cowgate. He could see nothing. The scattered +gas-lamps, blurred by the wet, only made a timbered gallery or +stone stairs stand out here and there or lighted up a Gothic +gargoyle to a fantastic grin. The street lay so deep and narrow +that sleet and wind wasted little time in finding it out, but +roared and rattled among the gables, dormers and chimney-stacks +overhead. Happy in finding his master himself again, and sniffing +fresh adventure, Bobby tumbled noisily about Auld Jock's feet +until reproved. And here was strange going. Ancient and warring +smells confused and insulted the little country dog's nose. After +a few inquiring and protesting barks Bobby fell into a subdued +trot at Auld Jock's heels. + +To this shepherd in exile the romance of Old Edinburgh was a +sealed book. It was, indeed, difficult for the most imaginative +to believe that the Cowgate was once a lovely, wooded ravine, +with a rustic burn babbling over pebbles at its bottom, and along +the brook a straggling path worn smooth by cattle on their driven +way to the Grassmarket. Then, when the Scottish nobility was +crowded out of the piled-up mansions, on the sloping ridge of +High Street that ran the mile from the Castle to Holyrood Palace, +splendor camped in the Cowgate, in villas set in fair gardens, +and separated by hedge-rows in which birds nested. + +In time this ravine, too, became overbuilt. Houses tumbled down +both slopes to the winding cattle path, and the burn was arched +over to make a thoroughfare. Laterally, the buildings were +crowded together, until the upper floors were pushed out on +timber brackets for light and air. Galleries, stairs and jutting +windows were added to outer walls, and the mansions climbed, +story above story, until the Cowgate was an undercut canon, +such as is worn through rock by the rivers of western America. +Lairds and leddies, powdered, jeweled and satin-shod, were borne +in sedan chairs down ten flights of stone stairs and through +torch-lit courts and tunnel streets, to routs in Castle or Palace +and to tourneys in the Grassmarket. + +From its low situation the Cowgate came in the course of time to +smell to heaven, and out of it was a sudden exodus of grand folk +to the northern hills. The lowest level was given over at once to +the poor and to small trade. The wynds and closes that climbed +the southern slope were eagerly possessed by divines, lawyers and +literary men because of their nearness to the University. Long +before Bobby's day the well-to-do had fled from the Cowgate wynds +to the hilltop streets and open squares about the colleges. A few +decent working-men remained in the decaying houses, some of which +were at least three centuries old. But there swarmed in upon, and +submerged them, thousands of criminals, beggars, and the +miserably poor and degraded of many nationalities. Businesses +that fatten on misfortune--the saloon, pawn, old clothes and +cheap food shops-lined the squalid Cowgate. Palaces were cut up +into honeycombs of tall tenements. Every stair was a crowded +highway; every passage a place of deposit for filth; almost every +room sheltered a half famished family, in darkness and ancient +dirt. Grand and great, pious and wise, decent, wretched and +terrible folk, of every sort, had preceded Auld Jock to his +lodging in a steep and narrow wynd, and nine gusty flights up +under a beautiful, old Gothic gable. + +A wrought-iron lantern hanging in an arched opening, lighted the +entrance to the wynd. With a hand outstretched to either wall, +Auld Jock felt his way up. Another lantern marked a sculptured +doorway that gave to the foul court of the tenement. No sky could +be seen above the open well of the court, and the carved, oaken +banister of the stairs had to be felt for and clung to by one so +short of breath. On the seventh landing, from the exertion of the +long climb, Auld Jock was shaken into helplessness, and his heart +set to pounding, by a violent fit of coughing. Overhead a shutter +was slammed back, and an angry voice bade him stop "deaving +folk." + +The last two flights ascended within the walls. The old man +stumbled into the pitch-black, stifling passage and sat down on +the lowest step to rest. On the landing above he must encounter +the auld wifie of a landlady, rousing her, it might be, and none +too good-tempered, from sleep. Unaware that he added to his +master's difficulties, Bobby leaped upon him and licked the +beloved face that he could not see. + +"Eh, laddie, I dinna ken what to do wi' ye. We maun juist hae to +sleep oot." It did not occur to Auld Jock that he could abandon +the little dog. And then there drifted across his memory a bit of +Mr. Traill's talk that, at the time, had seemed to no purpose: +"Sir Walter happed the wee lassie in the pocket of his plaid--" +He slapped his knee in silent triumph. In the dark he found the +broad, open end of the plaid, and the rough, excited head of the +little dog. + +"A hap, an' a stap, an' a loup, an' in ye gang. Loup in, laddie." + +Bobby jumped into the pocket and turned 'round and 'round. His +little muzzle opened for a delighted bark at this original play, +but Auld Jock checked him. + +"Cuddle doon noo, an' lie canny as pussy." With a deft turn he +brought the weighted end of the plaid up under his arm so there +would be no betraying drag. "We'll pu' the wool ower the auld +wifie's een," he chuckled. + +He mounted the stairs almost blithely, and knocked on one of the +three narrow doors that opened on the two-by-eight landing. It +was opened a few inches, on a chain, and a sordid old face, +framed in straggling gray locks and a dirty mutch cap, peered +suspiciously at him through the crevice. + +Auld Jock had his money in hand--a shilling and a sixpence--to +pay for a week's lodging. He had slept in this place for several +winters, and the old woman knew him well, but she held his coins +to the candle and bit them with her teeth to test them. Without a +word of greeting she shoved the key to the sleeping-closet he had +always fancied, through the crack in the door, and pointed to a +jug of water at the foot of the attic stairs. On the proffer of a +halfpenny she gave him a tallow candle, lighted it at her own and +fitted it into the neck of a beer bottle. + +"Ye hae a cauld." she said at last, with some hostility. "Gin ye +wauken yer neebors yell juist hae to fecht it oot wi' 'em." + +"Ay, I ken a' that," Auld Jock answered. He smothered a cough in +his chest with such effort that it threw him into a perspiration. +In some way, with the jug of water and the lighted candle in his +hands and the hidden terrier under one arm, the old man mounted +the eighteen-inch wide, walled-in attic stairs and unlocked the +first of a number of narrow doors on the passage at the top. + +"Weel aboon the fou' smell," indeed; "weel worth the lang climb!" +Around the loose frames of two wee southward-looking dormer +windows, that jutted from the slope of the gable, came a gush of +rain-washed air. Auld Jock tumbled Bobby, warm and happy and +"nane the wiser," out into the cold cell of a room that was oh, +so very, very different from the high, warm, richly colored +library of Sir Walter! This garret closet in the slums of +Edinburgh was all of cut stone, except for the worn, oaken floor, +a flimsy, modern door, and a thin, board partition on one side +through which a "neebor" could be heard snoring. Filling all of +the outer wall between the peephole, leaded windows and running- +up to the slope of the ceiling, was a great fireplace of native +white freestone, carved into fluted columns, foliated capitals, +and a flat pediment of purest classic lines. The ballroom of a +noble of Queen Mary's day had been cut up into numerous small +sleeping closets, many of them windowless, and were let to the +chance lodger at threepence the night. Here, where generations of +dancing toes had been warmed, the chimney vent was bricked up, +and a boxed-in shelf fitted, to serve for a bed, a seat and a +table, for such as had neither time nor heart for dancing. For +the romantic history and the beauty of it, Auld Jock had no mind +at all. But, ah! he had other joy often missed by the more +fortunate. + +"Be canny, Bobby," he cautioned again. + +The sagacious little dog understood, and pattered about the place +silently. Exhausting it in a moment, and very plainly puzzled and +bored, he sat on his haunches, yawned wide, and looked up +inquiringly to his master. Auld Jock set the jug and the candle +on the floor and slipped off his boots. He had no wish to "wauken +'is neebors." With nervous haste he threw back one of the windows +on its hinges, reached across the wide stone ledge and brought +in-wonder of wonders, in such a place a tiny earthen pot of +heather! + +"Is it no' a bonny posie?" he whispered to Bobby. With this +cherished bit of the country that he had left behind him the +April before in his hands, he sat down in the fireplace bed and +lifted Bobby beside him. He sniffed at the red tuft of +purple bloom fondly, and his old face blossomed into smiles. It +was the secret thought of this, and of the hillward outlook from +the little windows, that had ironed the lines from his face in +Mr. Traill's dining-room. Bobby sniffed at the starved plant, +too, and wagged his tail with pleasure, for a dog's keenest +memories are recorded by the nose. + +Overhead, loose tiles and finials rattled in the wind, that was +dying away in fitful gusts; but Auld Jock heard nothing. In fancy +he was away on the braes, in the shy sun and wild wet of April +weather. Shepherds were shouting, sheepdogs barking, ewes +bleating, and a wee puppy, still unnamed, scampering at his heels +in the swift, dramatic days of lambing time. And so, presently, +when the forlorn hope of the little pot had been restored to the +ledge, master and dog were in tune with the open country, and +began a romp such as they often had indulged in behind the byre +on a quiet, Sabbath afternoon. + +They had learned to play there like two well-brought-up +children, in pantomime, so as not to scandalize pious +countryfolk. Now, in obedience to a gesture, a nod, a lifted +eyebrow, Bobby went through all his pretty tricks, and showed how +far his serious education had progressed.. He rolled over and +over, begged, vaulted the low hurdle of his master's arm, and +played "deid." He scampered madly over imaginary pastures; ran, +straight as a string, along a stone wall; scrambled under a +thorny hedge; chased rabbits, and dug foxes out of holes; swam a +burn, flushed feeding curlews, and "froze" beside a rat-hole. +When the excitement was at its height and the little dog was +bursting with exuberance, Auld Jock forgot his caution. Holding +his bonnet just out of reach, he cried aloud: + +"Loup, Bobby!" + +Bobby jumped for the bonnet, missed it, jumped again and +barked-the high-pitched, penetrating yelp of the terrier. + +Instantly their little house of joy tumbled about their ears. +There was a pounding on the thin partition wall, an oath and a +shout "Whaur's the deil o' a dog?" Bobby flew at the insulting +clamor, but Auld Jock dragged him back roughly. In a voice made +harsh by fear for his little pet, he commanded: + +"Haud yer gab or they'll hae ye oot." + +Bobby dropped like a shot, cringing at Auld Jock's feet. The most +sensitive of four-footed creatures in the world, the Skye terrier +is utterly abased by a rebuke from his master. The whole garret +was soon in an uproar of vile accusation and shrill denial that +spread from cell to cell. + +Auld Jock glowered down at Bobby with frightened eyes. In the +winters he had lodged there he had lived unmolested only because +he had managed to escape notice. Timid old country body that he +was, he could not "fecht it oot" with the thieves and beggars and +drunkards of the Cowgate. By and by the brawling died down. In +the double row of little dens this one alone was silent, and the +offending dog was not located. + +But when the danger was past, Auld Jock's heart was pounding in +his chest. His legs gave way under him, when he got up to fetch +the candle from near the door and set it on a projecting brick +in the fireplace. By its light he began to read in a small pocket +Bible the Psalm that had always fascinated him because he had +never been able to understand it. + +"The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want." + +So far it was plain and comforting. "He maketh me to lie down in +green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters." + +Nae, the pastures were brown, or purple and yellow with heather +and gorse. Rocks cropped out everywhere, and the peaty tarps were +mostly bleak and frozen. The broad Firth was ever ebbing and +flowing with the restless sea, and the burns bickering down the +glens. The minister of the little hill kirk had said once that in +England the pastures were green and the lakes still and bright; +but that was a fey, foreign country to which Auld Jock had no +desire to go. He wondered, wistfully, if he would feel at home in +God's heaven, and if there would be room in that lush silence for +a noisy little dog, as there was on the rough Pentland braes. And +there his thoughts came back to this cold prison cell in which he +could not defend the right of his one faithful little friend to +live. He stooped and lifted Bobby into the bed. Humble, and eager +to be forgiven for an offense he could not understand, the loving +little creature leaped to Auld Jock's arms and lavished frantic +endearments upon him. + +Lying so together in the dark, man and dog fell into a sleep that +was broken by Auld Jock's fitful coughing and the abuse of his +neighbors. It was not until the wind had long died to a muffled +murmur at the casements, and every other lodger was out, that +Auld Jock slept soundly. He awoke late to find Bobby waiting +patiently on the floor and the bare cell flooded with white +glory. That could mean but one thing. He stumbled dizzily to his +feet and threw a sash aback. Over the huddle of high housetops, +the University towers and the scattered suburbs beyond, he looked +away to the snow-clad slopes of the Pentlands, running up to +heaven and shining under the pale winter sunshine. + +"The snaw! Eh, Bobby, but it's a bonny sicht to auld een!" he +cried, with the simple delight of a child. He stooped to lift +Bobby to the wonder of it, when the world suddenly went black and +roaring around in his head. Staggering back he crumpled up in a +pitiful heap on the floor. + +Bobby licked his master's face and hands, and then sat quietly +down beside him. So many strange, uncanny things had happened +within the last twenty-four hours that the little dog was rapidly +outgrowing his irresponsible puppyhood. After a long time Auld +Jock opened his eyes and sat up. Bobby put his paws on his +master's knees in anxious sympathy. Before the man had got his +wits about him the time-gun boomed from the Castle. +Panic-stricken that he should have slept in his bed so late, and +then lain senseless on the floor for he knew not how long, Auld +Jock got up and struggled into his greatcoat, bonnet and plaid. +In feeling for his woolen mittens he discovered the buns that Mr. +Trail had dropped into his pocket for Bobby. + +The old man stared and stared at them in piteous dismay. Mr. +Traill had believed him to be so ill that he "wouldna be oot the +morn." It was a staggering thought. + +The bells of St. Giles broke into "Over the Hills and Far Away." +The melody came to Auld Jock clearly, unbroken by echoes, for the +garret was on a level with the cathedral's crown on High Street. +It brought to him again a vision of the Midlothian slopes, but it +reminded Bobby that it was dinner-time. He told Auld Jock so by +running to the door and back and begging him, by every pretty +wile at his command, to go. The old man got to his feet and then +fell back, pale and shaken, his heart hammering again. Bobby ate +the bun soberly and then sat up against Auld Jock's feet, that +dangled helplessly from the bed. The bells died away from the +man's ears before they had ceased playing. Both the church and +the University bells struck the hour of two then three then four. +Daylight had begun to fail when Auld Jock stirred, sat up, and +did a strange thing: taking from his pocket a leather bag-purse +that was closed by a draw-string, he counted the few crowns and +shillings in it and the many smaller silver and copper coins. + +"There's eneugh," he said. There was enough, by careful spending, +to pay for food and lodging for a few weeks, to save himself from +the charity of the infirmary. By this act he admitted the +humiliating and fearful fact that he was very ill. The precious +little hoard must be hidden from the chance prowler. He looked +for a loose brick in the fireplace, but before he found one, he +forgot all about it, and absent-mindedly heaped the coins in a +little pile on the open Bible at the back of the bed. + +For a long time Auld Jock sat there with his head in his hands +before he again slipped back to his pillow. Darkness stole into +the quiet room. The lodgers returned to their dens one after one, +tramping or slipping or hobbling up the stairs and along the +passage. Bobby bristled and froze, on guard, when a stealthy +hand tried the latch. Then there were sounds of fighting, of +crying women, and the long, low wailing of-wretched children. The +evening drum and bugle were heard from the Castle, and hour +after hour was struck from the clock of St. Giles while Bobby +watched beside his master. + +All night Auld Jock was "aff 'is heid." When he muttered in his +sleep or cried out in the delirium of fever, the little dog put +his paws upon the bed-rail. He scratched on it and begged to be +lifted to where he could comfort his master, for the shelf was +set too high for him to climb into the bed. Unable to get his +master's attention, he licked the hot hand that hung over the +side. Auld Jock lay still at last, not coughing any more, but +breathing rapid, shallow breaths. Just at dawn he turned his head +and gazed in bewilderment at the alert and troubled little +creature that was instantly upon the rail. After a long time he +recognized the dog and patted the shaggy little head. Feeling +around the bed, he found the other bun and dropped it on the +floor. Presently he said, between strangled breaths: + +"Puir--Bobby! Gang--awa'--hame--laddie." + +After that it was suddenly very still in the brightening room. +Bobby gazed and gazed at his master--one long, heartbroken look, +then dropped to all fours and stood trembling. Without another +look he stretched himself upon the hearthstone below the bed. + +Morning and evening footsteps went down and came up on the +stairs. Throughout the day--the babel of crowded tenement strife; +the crying of fishwives and fagot-venders in the court; the +striking of the hours; the boom of the time gun and sweet clamor +of music bells; the failing of the light and the soaring note of +the bugle--he watched motionless beside his master. + +Very late at night shuffling footsteps came up the stairs. The +"auld wifie" kept a sharp eye on the comings and goings of her +lodgers. It was "no' canny" that this old man, with a cauld in +his chest, had gone up full two days before and had not come down +again. To bitter complaints of his coughing and of his strange +talking to himself she gave scant attention, but foul play was +done often enough in these dens to make her uneasy. She had no +desire to have the Burgh police coming about and interfering with +her business. She knocked sharply on the door and called: + +"Auld Jock!" + +Bobby trotted over to the door and stood looking at it. In such a +strait he would naturally have welcomed the visitor, scratching +on the panel, and crying to any human body without to come in and +see what had befallen his master. But Auld Jock had bade him +"haud 'is gab" there, as in Greyfriars kirkyard. So he held to +loyal silence, although the knocking and shaking of the latch was +insistent and the lodgers were astir. The voice of the old woman +was shrill with alarm. + +"Auld Jock, can ye no' wauken?" And, after a moment, in which the +unlatched casement window within could be heard creaking on its +hinges in the chill breeze, there was a hushed and frightened +question: + +"Are ye deid?" + +The footsteps fled down the stairs, and Bobby was left to watch +through the long hours of darkness. + +Very early in the morning the flimsy door was quietly forced by +authority. The first man who entered--an officer of the Crown +from the sheriff's court on the bridge--took off his hat to the +majesty that dominated that bare cell. The Cowgate region +presented many a startling contrast, but such a one as this must +seldom have been seen. The classic fireplace, and the motionless +figure and peaceful face of the pious old shepherd within it, had +the dignity and beauty of some monumental tomb and carved effigy +in old Greyfriars kirkyard. Only less strange was the contrast +between the marks of poverty and toil on the dead man and the +dainty grace of the little fluff of a dog that mourned him. + +No such men as these--officers of her Majesty the Queen, Burgh +policemen, and learned doctors from the Royal Infirmary--had ever +been aware of Auld Jock, living. Dead, and no' needing them any +more, they stood guard over him, and inquired sternly as to the +manner in which he had died. There was a hysterical breath of +relief from the crowd of lodgers and tenants when the little pile +of coins was found on the Bible. There had been no foul play. +Auld Jock had died of heart failure, from pneumonia and worn-out +old age. + +"There's eneugh," a Burgh policeman said when the money was +counted. He meant much the same thing Auld Jock himself had +meant. There was enough to save him from the last indignity a +life of useful labor can thrust upon the honest poor--pauper +burial. But when inquiries were made for the name and the friends +of this old man there appeared to be only "Auld Jock" to enter +into the record, and a little dog to follow the body to the +grave. It was a Bible reader who chanced to come in from the +Medical Mission in the Cowgate who thought to look in the +fly-leaf of Auld Jock's Bible. + +"His name is John Gray." + +He laid the worn little book on Auld Jock's breast and crossed +the work-scarred hands upon it. "It's something by the ordinar' +to find a gude auld country body in such a foul place." He +stooped and patted Bobby, and noted the bun, untouched, upon the +floor. Turning to a wild elf of a barefooted child in the crowd +he spoke to her. "Would you share your gude brose with the bit +dog, lassie?" + +She darted down the stairs, and presently returned with her own +scanty bowl of breakfast porridge. Bobby refused the food, but he +looked at her so mournfully that the first tears of pity her +unchildlike eyes had ever shed welled up. She put out her hand +timidly and stroked him. + +It was just before the report of the time-gun that two policemen +cleared the stairs, shrouded Auld Jock in his own greatcoat and +plaid, and carried him down to the court. There they laid him in +a plain box of white deal that stood on the pavement, closed it, +and went away down the wynd on a necessary errand. The Bible- +reader sat on an empty beer keg to guard the box, and Bobby +climbed on the top and stretched himself above his master. The +court was a well, more than a hundred feet deep. What sky might +have been visible above it was hidden by tier above tier of +dingy, tattered washings. The stairway filled again, and throngs +of outcasts of every sort went about their squalid businesses, +with only a curious glance or so at the pathetic group. + +Presently the policemen returned from the Cowgate with a motley +assortment of pallbearers. There was a good-tempered Irish +laborer from a near-by brewery; a decayed gentleman, unsteady of +gait and blear-eyed, in greasy frock-coat and broken hat; a +flashily dressed bartender who found the task distasteful; a +stout, bent-backed fagot-carrier; a drunken fisherman from New +Haven, suddenly sobered by this uncanny duty, and a furtive, +gaol-bleached thief who feared a trap and tried to escape. + +Tailed by scuffling gamins, the strange little procession moved +quickly down the wynd and turned into the roaring Cowgate. The +policemen went before to force a passage through the press. +The Bible-reader followed the box, and Bobby, head and tail down, +trotted unnoticed, beneath it. The humble funeral train passed +under a bridge arch into the empty Grassmarket, and went up +Candlemakers Row to the kirkyard gate. Such as Auld Jock, now, by +unnumbered thousands, were coming to lie among the grand and +great, laird and leddy, poet and prophet, persecutor and martyr, +in the piled-up, historic burying-ground of old Greyfriars. + +By a gesture the caretaker directed the bearers to the right, +past the church, and on down the crowded slope to the north, that +was circled about by the backs of the tenements in the +Grassmarket and Candlemakers Row. The box was lowered at once, +and the pall-bearers hastily departed to delayed dinners. The +policemen had urgent duties elsewhere. Only the Bible reader +remained to see the grave partly filled in, and to try to +persuade Bobby to go away with him. But the little dog +resisted with such piteous struggles that the man put him down +again. The grave digger leaned on his spade for a bit of +professional talk. + +"Many a dog gangs daft an' greets like a human body when his +maister dees. They're aye put oot, a time or twa, an' they gang +to folic that ken them, an' syne they tak' to ithers. Dinna fash +yersel' aboot 'im. He wullna greet lang." + +Since Bobby would not go, there was nothing to do but leave him +there; but it was with many a backward look and disturbing doubt +that the good man turned away. The grave-digger finished his task +cheerfully, shouldered his tools, and left the kirkyard. The +early dark was coming on when the caretaker, in making his last +rounds, found the little terrier flattened out on the new-made +mound. + +"Gang awa' oot!" he ordered. Bobby looked up pleadingly and +trembled, but he made no motion to obey. James Brown was not an +unfeeling man, and he was but doing his duty. From an impulse of +pity for this bonny wee bit of loyalty and grief he picked Bobby +up, carried him all the way to the gate and set him over the +wicket on the pavement. + +"Gang awa' hame, noo," he said, kindly. "A kirkya'rd isna a +place for a bit dog to be leevin'." + +Bobby lay where he had been dropped until the caretaker was out +of sight. Then, finding the aperture under the gate too small for +him to squeeze through, he tried, in his ancestral way, to +enlarge it by digging. He scratched and scratched at the +unyielding stone until his little claws were broken and his +toes bleeding, before he stopped and lay down with his nose under +the wicket. + + Just before the closing hour a carriage stopped at the +kirkyard gate. A black-robed lady, carrying flowers, hurried +through the wicket. Bobby slipped in behind her and disappeared. + +After nightfall, when the lamps were lighted on the bridge, when +Mr. Traill had come out to stand idly in his doorway, looking for +some one to talk to, and James Brown had locked the kirkyard yard +gate for the night and gone into his little stone lodge to +supper, Bobby came out of hiding and stretched himself prone +across Auld Jock's grave. + + + +IV. + +Fifteen minutes after the report of the time-gun on Monday, when +the bells were playing their merriest and the dining-rooms were +busiest, Mr. Traill felt such a tiny tug at his trouser-leg that +it was repeated before he gave it attention. In the press of +hungry guests Bobby had little more than room to rise in his +pretty, begging attitude. The landlord was so relieved to see him +again, after five conscience stricken days, that he stooped to +clap the little dog on the side and to greet him with jocose +approval. + +"Gude dog to fetch Auld Jock--" + +With a faint and piteous cry that was heard by no one but Mr. +Traill, Bobby toppled over on the floor. It was a limp little +bundle that the landlord picked up from under foot and held on +his arm a moment, while he looked around for the dog's master. +Shocked at not seeing Auld Jock, by a kind of inspiration he +carried the little dog to the inglenook and laid him down under +the familiar settle. Bobby was little more than breathing, but he +opened his silkily veiled brown eyes and licked the friendly hand +that had done this refinement of kindness. It took Mr. Traill +more than a moment to realize the nature of the trouble. A dog +with so thick a fleece of wool, under so crisply waving an outer +coat as Bobby's, may perish for lack of food and show no outward +sign of emaciation. + +"The sonsie, wee--why, he's all but starved!" + +Pale with pity, Mr. Traill snatched a plate of broth from the +hands of a gaping waiter laddie, set it under Bobby's nose, and +watched him begin to lap the warm liquid eagerly. In the busy +place the incident passed unnoticed. With his usual, brisk +decision Mr. Traill turned the backs of a couple of chairs over +against the nearest table, to signify that the corner was +reserved, and he went about his duties with unwonted silence. As +the crowd thinned he returned to the inglenook to find Bobby +asleep, not curled up in a tousled ball, as such a little dog +should be, but stretched on his side and breathing irregularly. + +If Bobby was in such straits, how must it be with Auld Jock? This +was the fifth day since the sick old man had fled into the storm. +With new disquiet Mr. Traill remembered a matter that had annoyed +him in the morning, and that he had been inclined to charge to +mischievous Heriot boys. Low down on the outside of his freshly +varnished entrance door were many scratches that Bobby could have +made. He may have come for food on the Sabbath day when the place +was closed. + +After an hour Bobby woke long enough to eat a generous plate of +that delectable and highly nourishing Scotch dish known as +haggis. He fell asleep again in an easier attitude that relieved +the tension on the landlord's feelings. Confident that the +devoted little dog would lead him straight to his master, Mr. +Traill closed the door securely, that he might not escape +unnoticed, and arranged his own worldly affairs so he could leave +them to hirelings on the instant. In the idle time between dinner +and supper he sat down by the fire, lighted his pipe, repented +his unruly tongue, and waited. As the short day darkened to its +close the sunset bugle was blown in the Castle. At the first +note, Bobby crept from under the settle, a little unsteady on his +legs as yet, wagged his tail for thanks, and trotted to the door. + +Mr. Traill had no trouble at all in keeping the little dog in +sight to the kirkyard gate, for in the dusk his coat shone +silvery white. Indeed, by a backward look now and then, Bobby +seemed to invite the man to follow, and waited at the +gate, with some impatience, for him to come up. Help was needed +there. By rising and tugging at Mr. Traill's clothing and then +jumping on the wicket Bobby plainly begged to have it opened. He +made no noise, neither barking nor whimpering, and that was very +strange for a dog of the terrier breed; but each instant of delay +he became more insistent, and even frantic, to have the gate +unlatched. Mr. Traill refused to believe what Bobby's behavior +indicated, and reproved him in the broad Scotch to which the +country dog was used. + +"Nae, Bobby; be a gude dog. Gang doon to the Coogate noo, an' +find Auld Jock." + +Uttering no cry at all, Bobby gave the man such a woebegone look +and dropped to the pavement, with his long muzzle as far under +the wicket as he could thrust it, that the truth shot home to Mr. +Traill's understanding. He opened the gate. Bobby slipped through +and stood just inside a moment, and looking back as if he +expected his human friend to follow. Then, very suddenly, as the +door of the lodge opened and the caretaker came out, Bobby +disappeared in the shadow of the church. + +A big-boned, slow-moving man of the best country house-gardener +type, serviceably dressed in corduroy, wool bonnet, and ribbed +stockings, James Brown collided with the small and wiry landlord, +to his own very great embarrassment. + +"Eh, Maister Traill, ye gied me a turn. It's no' canny to be +proolin' aboot the kirkyaird i' the gloamin'." + +"Whaur did the bit dog go, man?" demanded the peremptory +landlord. + +"Dog? There's no' ony dog i' the kirkyaird. It isna permeetted. +Gin it's a pussy ye're needin', noo--" + +But Mr. Traill brushed this irrelevant pleasantry aside. + +"Ay, there's a dog. I let him in my ainsel'." + +The caretaker exploded with wrath: "Syne I'll hae the law on ye. +Can ye no' read, man?" + +"Tut, tut, Jeemes Brown. Don't stand there arguing. It's a gude +and necessary regulation, but it's no' the law o' the land. I +turned the dog in to settle a matter with my ain conscience, and +John Knox would have done the same thing in the bonny face o' +Queen Mary. What it is, is nae beesiness of yours. The dog was a +sma' young terrier of the Highland breed, but with a drop to his +ears and a crinkle in his frosty coat--no' just an ordinar' dog. +I know him weel. He came to my place to be fed, near dead of +hunger, then led me here. If his master lies in this kirkyard, +I'll tak' the bit dog awa' with me." + +Mr. Traill's astonishing fluency always carried all walls of +resistance before it with men of slower wit and speech. Only a +superior man could brush time-honored rules aside so curtly and +stand on his human rights so surely. James Brown pulled his +bonnet off deferentially, scratched his shock head and shifted +his pipe. Finally he admitted: + +"Weel, there was a bit tyke i' the kirkyaird twa days syne. I put +'im oot, an' haena seen 'im aboot ony main" He offered, however, +to show the new-made mound on which he had found the dog. Leading +the way past the church, he went on down the terraced slope, +prolonging the walk with conversation, for the guardianship of an +old churchyard offers very little such lively company as John +Traill's. + +"I mind, noo, it was some puir body frae the Coogate, wi' no' ony +mourners but the sma' terrier aneath the coffin. I let 'im pass, +no' to mak' a disturbance at a buryin'. The deal box was fetched +up by the police, an' carried by sic a crew o' gaol-birds as wad +mak' ye turn ower in yer ain God's hole. But he paid for his +buryin' wi' his ain siller, an' noo lies as canny as the +nobeelity. Nae boot here's the place, Maister Traill; an' ye can +see for yer ainsel' there's no' any dog." + +"Ay, that would be Auld Jock and Bobby would no' be leaving him," +insisted the landlord, stubbornly. He stood looking down at the +rough mound of frozen clods heaped in a little space of trampled +snow. + +"Jeemes Brown," Mr. Trail said, at last, "the man wha lies here +was a decent, pious auld country body, and I drove him to his +meeserable death in the Cowgate." + +"Man, ye dinna ken what ye're sayin'!" was the shocked response. + +"Do I no'? I'm canny, by the ordinar', but my fule tongue will +get me into trouble with the magistrates one of these days. It +aye wags at both ends, and is no' tied in the middle." + +Then, stanch Calvinist that he was, and never dreaming that he +was indulging in the sinful pleasure of confession, Mr. Traill +poured out the story of Auld Jock's plight and of his own. +shortcomings. It was a bitter, upbraiding thing that he, an +uncommonly capable man, had meant so well by a humble old body, +and done so ill. And he had failed again when he tried to undo +the mischief. The very next morning he had gone down into the +perilous Cowgate, and inquired in every place where it might be +possible for such a timid old shepherd to be known. But there! As +well look for a burr thistle in a bin of oats, as look for a +human atom in the Cowgate and the wynds "juist aff." + +"Weel, noo, ye couldna hae dune aething wi' the auld body, ava, +gin he wouldna gang to the infairmary." The caretaker was trying +to console the self-accusing man. + +"Could I no'? Ye dinna ken me as weel as ye micht." The disgusted +landlord tumbled into broad Scotch. "Gie me to do it ance mair, +an' I'd chairge Auld Jock wi' thievin' ma siller, wi' a wink o' +the ee at the police to mak' them ken I was leein'; an' syne +they'd hae hustled 'im aff, willy-nilly, to a snug bed." + +The energetic little man looked so entirely capable of any daring +deed that he fired the caretaker into enthusiastic search for +Bobby. It was not entirely dark, for the sky was studded with +stars, snow lay in broad patches on the slope, and all about the +lower end of the kirkyard supper candles burned at every rear +window of the tall tenements. + +The two men searched among the near-by slabs and table-tombs and +scattered thorn bushes. They circled the monument to all the +martyrs who had died heroically, in the Grassmarket and +elsewhere, for their faith. They hunted in the deep shadows of +the buttresses along the side of the auld kirk and among the +pillars of the octagonal portico to the new. At the rear of the +long, low building, that was clumsily partitioned across for two +pulpits, stood the ornate tomb of "Bluidy" McKenzie. But Bobby +had not committed himself to the mercy of the hanging judge, nor +yet to the care of the doughty minister, who, from the pulpit of +Greyfriars auld kirk, had flung the blood and tear stained +Covenant in the teeth of persecution. + +The search was continued past the modest Scott family burial plot +and on to the west wall. There was a broad outlook over Heriot's +Hospital grounds, a smooth and shining expanse of unsullied snow +about the early Elizabethan pile of buildings. Returning, they +skirted the lowest wall below the tenements, for in the circling +line of courtyarded vaults, where the "nobeelity" of Scotland lay +haughtily apart under timestained marbles, were many shadowy +nooks in which so small a dog could stow himself away. Skulking +cats were flushed there, and sent flying over aristocratic bones, +but there was no trace of Bobby. + +The second tier of windows of the tenements was level with the +kirkyard wall, and several times Mr. Traill called up to a +lighted casement where a family sat at a scant supper + +"Have you seen a bit dog, man?" + +There was much cordial interest in his quest, windows opening and +faces staring into the dusk; but not until near the top of the +Row was a clue gained. Then, at the query, an unkempt, illclad +lassie slipped from her stool and leaned out over the pediment of +a tomb. She had seen a "wee, wee doggie jinkin' amang the +stanes." It was on the Sabbath evening, when the well-dressed +folk had gone home from the afternoon services. She was eating +her porridge at the window, "by her lane," when he "keeked up at +her so knowing, and begged so bonny," that she balanced her bit +bowl on a lath, and pushed it over on the kirkyard wall. As she +finished the story the big, blue eyes of the little maid, who +doubtless had herself known what it was to be hungry, filled with +tears. + +"The wee tyke couldna loup up to it, an' a deil o' a pussy got it +a'. He was so bonny, like a leddy's pet, an' syne he fell ower on +the snaw an' creepit awa'. He didna cry oot, but he was a' but +deid wi' hunger." At the memory of it soft-hearted Ailie Lindsey +sobbed on her mother's shoulder. + +The tale was retold from one excited window to another, all the +way around and all the way up to the gables, so quickly could +some incident of human interest make a social gathering in the +populous tenements. Most of all, the children seized upon the +touching story. Eager and pinched little faces peered wistfully +into the melancholy kirkyard. + +"Is he yer ain dog?" crippled Tammy Barr piped out, in his thin +treble. "Gin I had a bonny wee dog I'd gie 'im ma ain brose, an' +cuddle 'im, an' he couldna gang awa'." + +"Nae, laddie, he's no' my dog. His master lies buried here, and +the leal Highlander mourns for him." With keener appreciation of +its pathos, Mr. Traill recalled that this was what Auld Jock had +said: "Bobby isna ma ain dog." And he was conscious of wishing +that Bobby was his own, with his unpurchasable love and a loyalty +to face starvation. As he mounted the turfed terraces he thought +to call back: + +"If you see him again, lassie, call him 'Bobby,' and fetch him up +to Greyfriars Dining-Rooms. I have a bright siller shulling, with +the Queen's bonny face on it, to give the bairn that finds +Bobby." + +There was excited comment on this. He must, indeed, be an +attractive dog to be worth a shilling. The children generously +shared plans for capturing Bobby. But presently the windows were +closed, and supper was resumed. The caretaker was irritable. + +"Noo, ye'll hae them a' oot swarmin' ower the kirkyaird. There's +nae coontin' the bairns o' the neeborhood, an' nane o' them are +so weel broucht up as they micht be." + +Mr. Traill commented upon this philosophically: "A bairn is like +a dog in mony ways. Tak' a stick to one or the other and he'll +misbehave. The children here are poor and neglected, but they're +no' vicious like the awfu' imps of the Cowgate, wha'd steal from +their blind grandmithers. Get on the gude side of the bairns, +man, and you'll live easier and die happier." + +It seemed useless to search the much longer arm of the kirkyard +that ran southward behind the shops of Greyfriars Place and +Forest Road. If Bobby was in the enclosure at all he would not be +far from Auld Jock's grave. Nearest the new-made mound were two +very old and dark table-tombs. The farther one lay horizontally, +on its upright "through stanes," some distance above the earth. +The supports of the other had fallen, and the table lay on their +thickness within six inches of the ground. Mr. Traill and the +caretaker sat upon this slab, which testified to the piety and +worth of one Mistress Jean Grant, who had died "lang syne." + +Encroached upon, as it was, by unlovely life, Greyfriars kirkyard +was yet a place of solitude and peace. The building had the +dignity that only old age can give. It had lost its tower by an +explosion of gunpowder stored there in war time, and its walls +and many of the ancient tombs bore the marks of fire and shot. +Within the last decade some of the Gothic openings had been +filled with beautiful memorial windows. Despite the horrors and +absurdities and mutilation of much of the funeral sculpturing, +the kirkyard had a sad distinction, such as became its fame as +Scotland's Westminster. And, there was one heavenward outlook and +heavenly view. Over the tallest decaying tenement one could look +up to the Castle of dreams on the crag, and drop the glance all +the way down the pinnacled crest of High Street, to the dark and +deserted Palace of Holyrood. After nightfall the turreted heights +wore a luminous crown, and the steep ridge up to it twinkled with +myriad lights. After a time the caretaker offered a +well-considered opinion. + +"The dog maun hae left the kirkyaird. Thae terriers are aye +barkin'. It'd be maist michty noo, gin he'd be so lang i' the +kirkyaird, an' no' mak' a blatterin'." + +As a man of superior knowledge Mr. Traill found pleasure in +upsetting this theory. "The Highland breed are no' like ordinar' +terriers. Noisy enough to deave one, by nature, give a bit Skye +a reason and he'll lie a' the day under a whin bush on the brae, +as canny as a fox. You gave Bobby a reason for hiding here by +turning him out. And Auld Jock was a vera releegious man. It +would no' be surprising if he taught Bobby to hold his tongue in +a kirkyard." + +"Man, he did that vera thing." James Brown brought his fist down +on his knee; for suddenly he identified Bobby as the snappy +little ruffian that had chased the cat and bitten his shins, and +Auld Jock as the scandalized shepherd who had rebuked the dog so +bitterly. He related the incident with gusto. + +"The auld man cried oot on the misbehavin' tyke to haud 'is gab. +Syne, ye ne'er saw the bit dog's like for a bairn that'd haen a +lickin'. He'd 'a' gaen into a pit, gin there'd been ane, an' pu'd +it in ahind 'im. I turned 'em baith oot, an' told 'em no' to come +back. Eh, man, it's fearsome hoo ilka body comes to a kirkyaird, +toes afore 'im, in a long box." + +Mr. Brown was sobered by this grim thought and then, in his turn, +he confessed a slip to this tolerant man of the world. "The wee +deil o' a sperity dog nipped me so I let oot an aith." + +"Ay, that's Bobby. He would no' be afraid of onything with hide +or hair on it. Man, the Skye terriers go into dens of foxes and +wildcats, and worry bulls till they tak' to their heels. And +Bobby's sagacious by the ordinar'." He thought intently for a +moment, and then spoke naturally, and much as Auld Jock himself +might have spoken to the dog. + +"Whaur are ye, Bobby? Come awa' oot, laddie!" + +Instantly the little dog stood before him like some conjured +ghost. He had slipped from under the slab on which they were +sitting. It lay so near the ground, and in such a mat of dead +grass, that it had not occurred to them to look for him there. He +came up to Mr. Traill confidently, submitted to having his head +patted, and looked pleadingly at the caretaker. Then, thinking he +had permission to do so, he lay down on the mound. James Brown +dropped his pipe. + +"It's maist michty!" he said. + +Mr. Traill got to his feet briskly. "I'll just tak' the dog with +me, Mr. Brown. On marketday I'll find the farmer that owns him +and send him hame. As you say, a kirkyard's nae place for a dog +to be living neglected. Come awa', Bobby." + +Bobby looked up, but, as he made no motion to obey, Mr. Traill +stooped and lifted him. + +From sheer surprise at this unexpected move the little dog lay +still a moment on the man's arm. Then, with a lithe twist of his +muscular body and a spring, he was on the ground, trembling, +reproachful for the breach of faith, but braced for resistance. + +"Eh, you're no' going?" Mr. Traill put his hands in his pockets, +looked down at Bobby admiringly, and sighed. "There's a dog after +my ain heart, and he'll have naething to do with me. He has a +mind of his ain. I'll just have to be leaving him here the two +days, Mr. Brown." + +"Ye wullna leave 'im! Ye'll tak' 'im wi' ye, or I'll hae to put +'im oot. Man, I couldna haud the place gin I brak the rules." + +"You--will--no'--put--the--wee--dog--out!" Mr. Traill shook a +playful, +emphatic finger under the big man's nose. + +"Why wull I no'?" + +"Because, man, you have a vera soft heart, and you canna deny +it." It was with a genial, confident smile that Mr. Traill made +this terrible accusation. + +"Ma heart's no' so saft as to permit a bit dog to scandalize the +deid." + +"He's been here two days, you no' knowing it, and he has +scandalized neither the dead nor the living. He's as leal as ony +Covenanter here, and better conducted than mony a laird. He's no +the quarrelsome kind, but, man, for a principle he'd fight like +auld Clootie." Here the landlord's heat gave way to pure +enjoyment of the situation. "Eh, I'd like to see you put him out. +It would be another Flodden Field." + +The angry caretaker shrugged his broad shoulders. + +"Ye can see it, gin ye stand by, in juist one meenit. Fecht as he +may, it wull soon be ower." + +Mr. Traill laughed easily, and ventured the opinion that Mr. +Brown's bark was worse than his bite. As he went through the +gateway he could not resist calling back a challenge: "I daur you +to do it." + +Mr. Brown locked the gate, went sulkily into the lodge, lighted +his cutty pipe, and smoked it furiously. He read a Psalm with +deliberation, poked up an already bright fire, and glowered at +his placid gude wife. It was not to be borne--to be defied by a +ten-inch-high terrier, and dared, by a man a third under his own +weight, to do his duty. After an hour or so he worked himself up +to the point of going out and slamming the door. + +At eight o'clock Mr. Traill found Bobby on the pavement outside +the locked gate. He was not sorry that the fortunes of unequal +battle had thrown the faithful little dog on his hospitality. +Bobby begged piteously to be put inside, but he seemed to +understand at last that the gate was too high for Mr. Traill to +drop him over. He followed the landlord up to the restaurant +willingly. He may have thought this champion had another solution +of the difficulty, for when he saw the man settle comfortably in +a chair he refused to lie on the hearth. He ran to the door and +back, and begged and whined to be let out. For a long time he +stood dejectedly. He was not sullen, for he ate a light supper +and thanked his host with much polite wagging, and he even +allowed himself to be petted. Suddenly he thought of something, +trotted briskly off to a corner and crouched there. + +Mr. Traill watched the attractive little creature with interest +and growing affection. Very likely he indulged in a day-dream +that, perhaps, the tenant of Cauldbrae farm could be induced to +part with Bobby for a consideration, and that he himself could +win the dog to transfer his love from a cold grave to a warm +hearth. + +With a spring the rat was captured. A jerk of the long head and +there was proof of Bobby's prowess to lay at his good friend's +feet. Made much of, and in a position to ask fresh favors, the +little dog was off to the door with cheerful, staccato barks. His +reasoning was as plain as print: "I hae done ye a service, noo +tak' me back to the kirkyaird." + +Mr. Traill talked to him as he might have reasoned with a bright +bairn. Bobby listened patiently, but remained of the same mind. +At last he moved away, disappointed in this human person, +discouraged, but undefeated in his purpose. He lay down by the +door. Mr. Traill watched him, for if any chance late comer opened +the door the masterless little dog would be out into the perils +of the street. Bobby knew what doors were for and, very likely, +expected. some such release. He waited a long time patiently. +Then he began to run back and forth. He put his paws upon Mr. +Traill and whimpered and cried. Finally he howled. + +It was a dreadful, dismal, heartbroken howl that echoed back from +the walls. He howled continuously, until the landlord, quite +distracted, and concerned about the peace of his neighbors, +thrust Bobby into the dark scullery at the rear, and bade him +stop his noise. For fully ten minutes the dog was quiet. He was +probably engaged in exploring his new quarters to find an outlet. +Then he began to howl again. It was truly astonishing that so +small a dog could make so large a noise. + +A battle was on between the endurance of the man and the +persistence of the terrier. Mr. Traill was speculating on which +was likely to be victor in the contest, when the front door was +opened and the proprietor of the Book Hunter's Stall put in a +bare, bald head and the abstracted face of the book-worm that is +mildly amused. + +"Have you tak'n to a dog at your time o' life, Mr. Traill?" + +"Ay, man, and it would be all right if the bit dog would just +tak' to me." + +This pleasantry annoyed a good man who had small sense of humor, +and he remarked testily "The barkin' disturbs my customers so +they canna read." The place was a resort for student laddies who +had to be saving of candles. + +"That's no' right," the landlord admitted, sympathetically. +"'Reading mak'th a full man.' Eh, what a deeference to the warld +if Robbie Burns had aye preferred a book to a bottle." The +bookseller refused to be beguiled from his just cause of +complaint into the flowery meads of literary reminiscences and +speculations. + +"You'll stop that dog's cleaving noise, Mr. Traill, or I'll +appeal to the Burgh police." + +The landlord returned a bland and child-like smile. "You'd be +weel within your legal rights to do it, neebor." + +The door was shut with such a business-like click that the +situation suddenly +became serious. Bobby's vocal powers, however, gave no signs of +diminishing. Mr. Traill quieted the dog for a few moments by +letting him into the outer room, but the swiftness and energy +with which he renewed his attacks on the door and on the man's +will showed plainly that the truce was only temporary. He did +not know what he meant to do except that he certainly had no +intention of abandoning the little dog. To gain time he put on +his hat and coat, picked Bobby up, and opened the door. The +thought occurred to him to try the gate at the upper end of the +kirkyard or, that failing, to get into Heriot's Hospital grounds +and put Bobby over the wall. As he opened the door, however, he +heard Geordie Ross's whistle around the bend in Forest Road. + +"Hey, laddie!" he called. "Come awa' in a meenit." When the +sturdy boy was inside and the door safely shut, he began in his +most guileless and persuasive tone: "Would you like to earn a +shulling, Geordie?" + +"Ay, I would. Gie it to me i' pennies an' ha'pennies, Maister +Traill. It seems mair, an' mak's a braw jinglin' in a pocket." + +The price was paid and the tale told. The quick championship of +the boy was engaged for the gallant dog, and Geordie's eyes +sparkled at the prospect of dark adventure. Bobby was on the +floor listening, ears and eyes, brambly muzzle and feathered tail +alert. He listened with his whole, small, excited body, and hung +on the answer to the momentous question. + +"Is there no' a way to smuggle the bit dog into the kirkyard?" + +It appeared that nothing was easier, "aince ye ken hoo." Did Mr. +Traill know of the internal highway through the old Cunzie Neuk +at the bottom of the Row? One went up the stairs on the front to +the low, timbered gallery, then through a passage as black as +"Bluidy" McKenzie's heart. At the end of that, one came to a +peep-hole of a window, set out on wooden brackets, that hung +right over the kirkyard wall. From that window Bobby could be +dropped on a certain noble vault, from which he could jump to the +ground. + +"Twa meenits' wark, stout hearts, sleekit footstaps, an' the +fearsome deed is done," declared twelve-year-old Geordie, whose +sense of the dramatic matched his daring. + +But when the deed was done, and the two stood innocently on the +brightly lighted approach to the bridge, Mr. Traill had his +misgivings. A well-respected business man and church-member, he +felt uneasy to be at the mercy of a laddie who might be boastful. + +"Geordie, if you tell onybody about this I'll have to give you a +licking." + +"I wullna tell," Geordie reassured him. "It's no' so respectable, +an' syne ma mither'd gie me anither lickin', an' they'd gie me +twa more awfu' aces, an' black marks for a month, at Heriot's." + + + +V. + +Word had been left at all the inns and carting offices about both +markets for the tenant of Cauldbrae farm to call at Mr. Traill's +place for Bobby. The man appeared Wednesday afternoon, driving a +big Clydesdale horse to a stout farm cart. The low-ceiled +dining-room suddenly shrank about the big-boned, long legged hill +man. The fact embarrassed him, as did also a voice cultivated out +of all proportion to town houses, by shouting to dogs and +shepherds on windy shoulders of the Pentlands. + +"Hae ye got the dog wi' ye?" + +Mr. Train pointed to Bobby, deep in a blissful, after dinner nap +under the settle. + +The farmer breathed a sigh of relief, sat at a table, and ate a +frugal meal of bread and cheese. As roughly dressed as Auld Jock, +in a metal-buttoned greatcoat of hodden gray, a woolen bonnet, +and the shepherd's twofold plaid, he was a different species of +human being altogether. A long, lean, sinewy man of early middle +age, he had a smooth-shaven, bony jaw, far-seeing gray eyes under +furzy brows, and a shock of auburn hair. When he spoke, it was to +give bits out of his own experience. + +"Thae terriers are usefu' eneugh on an ordinar' fairm an' i' the +toon to keep awa' the vermin, but I wadna gie a twa-penny-bit for +ane o' them on a sheep-fairm. There's a wee lassie at Cauldbrae +wha wants Bobby for a pet. It wasna richt for Auld Jock to win +'im awa' frae the bairn." + +Mr. Traill's hand was lifted in rebuke. "Speak nae ill, man; Auld +Jock's dead." + +The farmer's ruddy face blanched and he dropped his knife. "He's +no' buried so sane?" + +"Ay, he's buried four days since in Greyfriars kirkyard, and +Bobby has slept every night on the auld man's grave." + +"I'll juist tak' a leuk at the grave, moil, gin ye'll hae an ee +on the dog." + +Mr. Traill cautioned him not to let the caretaker know that Bobby +had continued to sleep in the kirkyard, after having been put out +twice. The farmer was back in ten minutes, with a canny face that +defied reading. He lighted his short Dublin pipe and smoked it +out before he spoke again. + +"It's ower grand for a puir auld shepherd body to be buried i' +Greyfriars." + +"No' so grand as heaven, I'm thinking." Mr. Traill's response was +dry. + +"Ay, an' we're a' coontin' on gangin' there; but it's a prood +thing to hae yer banes put awa' in Greyfriars, ance ye're through +wi' 'em!" + +"Nae doubt the gude auld man would rather be alive on the +Pentland braes than dead in Greyfriars." + +"Ay," the farmer admitted. "He was fair fond o' the hills, an' +no' likin' the toon. An', moil, he was a wonder wi' the lambs. +He'd gang wi' a collie ower miles o' country in roarin' weather, +an' he'd aye fetch the lost sheep hame. The auld moil was nane so +weel furnished i' the heid, but bairnies and beasts were unco' +fond o' 'im. It wasna his fau't that Bobby was aye at his heels. +The lassie wad 'a' been after'im, gin 'er mither had permeeted +it." + +Mr. Traill asked him why he had let so valuable a man go, and the +farmer replied at once that he was getting old and could no +longer do the winter work. To any but a Scotchman brought up near +the sheep country this would have sounded hard, but Mr. Traill +knew that the farmers on the wild, tipped-up moors were +themselves hard pressed to meet rent and taxes. To keep a +shepherd incapacitated by age and liable to lose a flock in a +snow-storm, was to invite ruin. And presently the man showed, +unwittingly, how sweet a kernel the heart may lie under the shell +of sordid necessity. + +"I didna ken the auld man was fair ill or he micht hae bided at +the fairm an' tak'n 'is ain time to dee at 'is ease." + +As Bobby unrolled and stretched to an awakening, the farmer got +up, took him unaware and thrust him into a covered basket. He had +no intention of letting the little creature give him the slip +again. Bobby howled at the indignity, and struggled and tore at +the stout wickerwork. It went to Mr. Traill's heart to hear him, +and to see the gallant little dog so defenseless. He talked to +him through the latticed cover all the way out to the cart, +telling him Auld Jock meant for him to go home. At that beloved +name, Bobby dropped to the bottom of the basket and cried in such +a heartbroken way that tears stood in the landlord's eyes, and +even the farmer confessed to a sudden "cauld in 'is heid." + +"I'd gie 'im to ye, mon, gin it wasna that the bit lassie wad +greet her bonny een oot gin I didna fetch 'im hame. Nae boot the +bit tyke wad 'a' deed gin ye hadna fed 'im." + +"Eh, man, he'll no' bide with me, or I'd be bargaining for him. +And he'll no' be permitted to live in the kirkyard. I know +naething in this life more +pitiful than a masterless, hameless dog." And then, to delay the +moment of parting with Bobby, who stopped crying and began to +lick his hand in frantic appeal through a hole in the basket, Mr. +Traill asked how Bobby came by his name. + +"It was a leddy o' the neeborhood o' Swanston. She cam' drivin' +by Cauldbrae i' her bit cart wi' shaggy Shetlands to it an' +stapped at the dairy for a drink o' buttermilk frae the kirn. +Syne she saw the sonsie puppy loupin' at Auld Jock's heels, bonny +as a poodle, but mair knowin'. The leddy gied me a poond note for +'im. I put 'im up on the seat, an' she said that noo she had a +smart Hieland groom to match 'er Hieland steeds, an' she flicked +the ponies wi' 'er whup. Syne the bit dog was on the airth an' +flyin' awa' doon the road like the deil was after 'im. An' the +leddy lauched an' lauched, an' went awa' wi'oot 'im. At the fut +o' the brae she was still lauchin', an' she ca'ed back: 'Gie 'im +the name o' Bobby, gude mon. He's left the plow-tail an's aff to +Edinburgh to mak' his fame an' fortune.' I didna ken what the +leddy meant." + +"Man, she meant he was like Bobby Burns." + +Here was a literary flavor that gave added attraction to a man +who sat at the feet of the Scottish muses. The landlord sighed as +he went back to the doorway, and he stood there listening to the +clatter of the cart and rough-shod horse and to the mournful +howling of the little dog, until the sounds died away in Forest +Road. + +Mr. Traill would have been surprised to know, perhaps, that the +confines of the city were scarcely passed before Bobby stopped +protesting and grieving and settled down patiently to more +profitable work. A human being thus kidnapped and carried away +would have been quite helpless. But Bobby fitted his mop of a +black muzzle into the largest hole of his wicker prison, and set +his useful little nose to gathering news of his whereabouts. + +If it should happen to a dog in this day to be taken from Ye Olde +Greyfriars Dining-Rooms and carried southward out of Edinburgh +there would be two miles or more of city and suburban streets to +be traversed before coming to the open country. But a half +century or more ago one could stand at the upper gate of +Greyfriars kirkyard or Heriot's Hospital grounds and look down a +slope dotted with semi-rustic houses, a village or two and +water-mills, and then cultivated farms, all the way to a +stone-bridged burn and a toll-bar at the bottom of the valley. +This hillside was the ancient Burghmuir where King James +of old gathered a great host of Scots to march and fight and +perish on Flodden Field. + +Bobby had not gone this way homeward before, and was puzzled by +the smell of prosperous little shops, and by the park-like odors +from college campuses to the east, and from the well-kept +residence park of George Square. But when the cart rattled across +Lauriston Place he picked up the familiar scents of milk and wool +from the cattle and sheep market, and then of cottage dooryards, +of turned furrows and of farmsteads. + +The earth wears ever a threefold garment of beauty. The human +person usually manages to miss nearly everything but the +appearance of things. A few of us are so fortunate as to have +ears attuned to the harmonies woven on the wind by trees and +birds and water; but the tricky weft of odors that lies closest +of all, enfolding the very bosom of the earth, escapes us. A +little dog, traveling with his nose low, lives in another stratum +of the world, and experiences other pleasures than his master. +He has excitements that he does his best to share, and that send +him flying in pursuit of phantom clues. + +From the top of the Burghmuir it was easy going to Bobby. The +snow had gone off in a thaw, releasing a multitude of autumnal +aromas. There was a smell of birch and beech buds sealed up in +gum, of berries clotted on the rowan-trees, and of balsam and +spice from plantations of Highland firs and larches. The babbling +water of the burn was scented with the dead bracken of glens down +which it foamed. Even the leafless hedges had their woody odors, +and stone dykes their musty smell of decaying mosses and lichens. + +Bobby knew the pause at the toll-bar in the valley, and the mixed +odors of many passing horses and men, there. He knew the smells +of poultry and cheese at a dairy-farm; of hunting dogs and +riding-leathers at a sportsman's trysting inn, and of grist and +polluted water at a mill. And after passing the hilltop toll-bar +of Fairmilehead, dipping across a narrow valley and rounding the +base of a sentinel peak, many tame odors were left behind. At the +buildings of the large, scattered farms there were smells of +sheep, and dogs and barn yards. But, for the most part, after the +road began to climb over a high shoulder of the range, there was +just one wild tang of heather and gorse and fern, tingling with +salt air from the German Ocean. + +When they reached Cauldbrae farm, high up on the slope, it was +entirely dark. Lights in the small, deep-set windows gave the +outlines of a low, steep-roofed, stone farm-house. Out of the +darkness a little wind blown figure of a lassie +fled down the brae to meet the cart, and an eager little voice, +as clear as a hill-bird's piping, cried out: + +"Hae ye got ma ain Bobby, faither?" + +"Ay, lassie, I fetched 'im hame," the farmer roared back, in his +big voice. + +Then the cart was stopped for the wee maid to scramble up over a +wheel, and there were sweet little sounds of kissing and muffled +little cuddlings under the warm plaid. When these soft +endearments had been attended to there was time for another +yearning. + +"May I haud wee Bobby, faither?" + +"Nae, lassie, a bonny bit bairnie couldna haud 'im in 'er sma' +airms. Bobby's a' for gangin' awa' to leev in a grand kirkyaird +wi' Auld Jock." + +A little gasp, and a wee sob, and an awed question: "Is gude +Auld Jock deid, daddy?" + +Bobby heard it and answered with a mournful howl. The lassie +snuggled closer to the warm, beating heart, hid her eyes in the +rough plaid, and cried for Auld Jock and for the grieving little +dog. + +"Niest to faither an' mither an' big brither Wattie I lo'e Auld +Jock an' Bobby." The bairnie's voice was smothered in the +plaidie. Because it was dark and none were by to see, the +reticent Scot could overflow in tender speech. His arm tightened +around this one little ewe lamb of the human fold on cold slope +farm. He comforted the child by telling her how they would mak' +it up to Bobby, and how very soon a wee dog forgets the keenest +sorrow and is happy again. + +The sheep-dogs charged the cart with as deafening a clamor of +welcome as if a home-coming had never happened before, and raced +the horse across the level. The kitchen door flared open, a +sudden beacon to shepherds scattered afar on these upland billows +of heath. In a moment the basket was in the house, the door +snecked, and Bobby released on the hearth. + +It was a beautiful, dark old kitchen, with a homely fire of peat +that glowed up to smoke-stained rafters. Soon it was full of +shepherds, come in to a supper of brose, cheese, milk and +bannocks. Sheep-dogs sprawled and dozed on the hearth, so that +the gude wife complained of their being underfoot. But she left +them undisturbed and stepped over them, for, tired as they were, +they would have to go out again to drive the sheep into the fold. + +Humiliated by being brought home a prisoner, and grieving for the +forsaken grave in Greyfriars, Bobby crept away to a corner bench, +on which Auld Jock had always sat in humble self-effacement. He +lay down under it, and the little four year-old lassie sat on +the floor close beside him, understanding, and sorry with him. +Her rough brother Wattie teased her about wanting her supper +there on one plate with Bobby. + +"I wadna gang daft aboot a bit dog, Elsie." + +"Leave the bairn by 'er lane," commanded the farmer. The mither +patted the child's bright head, and wiped the tears from the +bluebell eyes. And there was a little sobbing confidence poured +into a sympathetic ear. + +Bobby refused to eat at first, but by and by he thought better of +it. A little dog that has his life to live and his work to do +must have fuel to drive the throbbing engine of his tiny heart. +So Bobby very sensibly ate a good supper in the lassie's company +and, grateful for that and for her sympathy, submitted to her shy +petting. But after the shepherds and dogs were gone and the +farmer had come in again from an overseeing look about the place +the little dog got up, trotted to the door, and lay down by it. +The lassie followed him. With two small, plump hands she pushed +Bobby's silver veil back, held his muzzle and looked into his +sad, brown eyes. + +"Oh, mither, mither, Bobby's greetin'," she cried. + +"Nae, bonny wee, a sma' dog canna greet." + +"Ay, he's greetin' sair!" A sudden, sweet little sound was +dropped on Bobby's head. + +"Ye shouldna kiss the bit dog, bairnie. He isna like a human +body." + +"Ay, a wee kiss is gude for 'im. Faither, he greets so I canna +thole it." The child fled to comforting arms in the inglenook and +cried herself to sleep. The gude wife knitted, and the gude mon +smoked by the pleasant fire. The only sound in the room was the +ticking of the wag at the wa' clock, for burning peat makes no +noise at all, only a pungent whiff in the nostrils, the memory of +which gives a Scotch laddie abroad a fit of hamesickness. Bobby +lay very still and watchful by the door. The farmer served his +astonishing news in dramatic bits. + +"Auld Jock's deid." Bobby stirred at that, and flattened out on +the floor. + +"Ay, the lassie told that, an' I wad hae kenned it by the dog. He +is greetin' by the ordinar'." + +"An' he's buried i' the kirkyaird o' auld Greyfriars." Ah, that +fetched her! The gude wife dropped her knitting and stared at +him. + +"There's a gairdener, like at the country-hooses o' the gentry, +leevin' in a bit lodge by the gate. He has naethin' to do, ava, +but lock the gate at nicht, put the dogs oot, an' mak' the posies +bloom i' the simmer. Ay, it's a bonny place." + +"It's ower grand for Auld Jock." + +"Ye may weel say that. His bit grave isna so far frae the +martyrs' monument." When the grandeur of that had sunk in he went +on to other incredibilities. + +Presently he began to chuckle. "There's a bit notice on the gate +that nae dogs are admittet, but Bobby's sleepit on Auld Jock's +grave ane--twa--three--fower nichts, an' the gairdener doesna ken +it, ava. He's a canny beastie." + +"Ay, he is. Folk wull be comin' frae miles aroond juist to leuk +at thesperity bit. Ilka body aboot kens Auld Jock. It'll be +maist michty news to tell at the kirk on the Sabbath, that he's +buried i' Greyfriars." + +Through all this talk Bobby had lain quietly by the door, in the +expectation that it would be unlatched. Impatient of delay, he +began to whimper and to scratch on the panel. The lassie opened +her blue eyes at that, scrambled down, and ran to him. Instantly +Bobby was up, tugging at her short little gown and begging to be +let out. When she clasped her chubby arms around his neck and +tried to comfort him he struggled free and set up a dreadful +howling. + +"Hoots, Bobby, stap yer havers!" shouted the farmer. + +"Eh, lassie, he'll deave us a'. We'll juist hae to put 'im i' the +byre wi' the coos for the nicht," cried the distracted mither. + +"I want Bobby i' the bed wi' me. I'll cuddle 'im an' lo'e 'im +till he staps greetin'." + +"Nae, bonny wee, he wullna stap." The farmer picked the child up +on one arm, gripped the dog under the other, and the gude wife +went before with a lantern, across the dark farmyard to the +cow-barn. When the stout door was unlatched there was a smell of +warm animals, of milk, and cured hay, and the sound of full, +contented breathings that should have brought a sense of +companionship to a grieving little creature. + +"Bobby wullna be lanely here wi' the coos, bairnie, an' i' the +morn ye can tak' a bit rope an' haud it in a wee hand so he canna +brak awa', an' syne, in a day or twa, he'll be forgettin' Auld +Jock. Ay, ye'll hae grand times wi' the sonsie doggie, rinnin' +an' loupin' on the braes." + +This argument was so convincing and so attractive that the little +maid dried her tears, kissed Bobby on the head again, and made a +bed of heather for him in a corner. But as they were leaving the +byre fresh doubts assailed her. + +"He'll gang awa' gin ye dinna tie 'im snug the nicht, faither." + +"Sic a fulish bairn! Wi' fower wa's aroond 'im, an' a roof to 'is +heid, an' a floor to 'is fut, hoo could a sma' dog mak' a way +oot?" + +It was a foolish notion, bred of fond anxiety, and so, reassured, +the child went happily back to the house and to rosy sleep in her +little closet bed. + +Ah! here was a warm place in a cold world for Bobby. A +soft-hearted little mistress and merry playmate was here, +generous food, and human society of a kind that was very much to +a little farm dog's liking. Here was freedom--wide moors to +delight his scampering legs, adventures with rabbits, foxes, +hares and moor-fowl, and great spaces where no one's ears would +be offended by his loudest, longest barking. Besides, Auld Jock +had said, with his last breath, "Gang--awa'--hame--laddie!" It is +not to be supposed Bobby had forgotten that, since he remembered +and obeyed every other order of that beloved voice. But there, +self-interest, love of liberty, and the instinct of obedience, +even, sank into the abysses of the little creature's mind. Up to +the top rose the overmastering necessity of guarding the bit of +sacred earth that covered his master. + +The byre was no sooner locked than Bobby began, in the pitch +darkness, to explore the walls. The single promise of escape that +was offered was an inch-wide crack under the door, where the +flooring stopped short and exposed a strip of earth. That would +have appalled any but a desperate little dog. The crack was so +small as to admit but one paw, at first, and the earth was packed +as hard as wood by generations of trampling cattle. + +There he began to dig. He came of a breed of dogs used by farmers +and hunters to dig small, burrowing animals out of holes, a breed +whose courage and persistence know no limit. He dug patiently, +steadily, hour after hour, enlarging the hole by inches. Now and +then he had to stop to rest. When he was able to use both +forepaws he made encouraging progress; but when he had to reach +under the door, quite the length of his stretched legs, and drag +every bit of earth back into the byre, the task must have been +impossible to any little creature not urged by utter misery. But +Skye terriers have been known to labor with such fury that they +have perished of their own exertions. Bobby's nose sniffed +liberty long before he could squeeze his weasel-like body through +the tunnel. His back bruised and strained by the struggle through +a hole too small, he stood, trembling with exhaustion, in the +windy dawn. + +An opening door, a barking sheep-dog, the shuffle of the moving +flock, were signs that the farm day was beginning, although all +the stars had not faded out of the sky. A little flying shadow, +Bobby slipped out of the cow-yard, past the farm-house, and +literally tumbled down the brae. From one level to another he +dropped, several hundred feet in a very few minutes, and from the +clear air of the breezy hilltop to a nether world that was buried +fathoms deep in a sea-fog as white as milk. + +Hidden in a deep fold of the spreading skirts of the range, and +some distance from the road, lay a pool, made by damming a burn, +and used, in the shearing season, for washing sheep. Surrounded +by brushy woods, and very damp and dark, at other seasons it was +deserted. Bobby found this secluded place with his nose, curled +up under a hazel thicket and fell sound asleep. And while he +slept, a nipping wind from the far, northern Highlands swooped +down on the mist and sent it flying out to sea. The Lowlands +cleared like magic. From the high point where Bobby lay the road +could be seen to fall, by short rises and long descents, all the +way to Edinburgh. From its crested ridge and flanking hills the +city trailed a dusky banner of smoke out over the fishing fleet +in the Firth. + +A little dog cannot see such distant views. Bobby could only read +and follow the guide-posts of odors along the way. He had begun +the ascent to the toll-bar when he heard the clatter of a cart +and the pounding of hoofs behind him. He did not wait to learn if +this was the Cauldbrae farmer in pursuit. Certain knowledge on +that point was only to be gained at his peril. He sprang into the +shelter of a stone wall, scrambled over it, worked his way along +it a short distance, and disappeared into a brambly path that +skirted a burn in a woody dell. + +Immediately the little dog was lost in an unexplored country. The +narrow glen was musical with springs, and the low growth was +undercut with a maze of rabbit runs, very distracting to a dog of +a hunting breed. Bobby knew, by much journeying with Auld Jock, +that running water is a natural highway. Sheep drift along the +lowest level until they find an outlet down some declivity, or up +some foaming steep, to new pastures. + +But never before had Bobby found, above such a rustic brook, a +many chimneyed and gabled house of stone, set in a walled garden +and swathed in trees. Today, many would cross wide seas to look +upon Swanston cottage, in whose odorous old garden a whey-faced, +wistful-eyed laddie dreamed so many brave and laughing dreams. +It was only a farm-house then, fallen from a more romantic +history, and it had no attraction for Bobby. He merely sniffed at +dead vines of clematis, sleeping briar bushes, and very live, +bright hedges of holly, rounded a corner of its wall, and ran +into a group of lusty children romping on the brae, below the +very prettiest, thatch roofed and hill-sheltered hamlet within +many a mile of Edinboro' town. The bairns were lunching from +grimy, mittened hands, gypsy fashion, life being far too short +and playtime too brief for formal meals. Seeing them eating, +Bobby suddenly discovered that he was hungry. He rose before a +well-provided laddie and politely begged for a share of his meal. + +Such an excited shouting of admiration and calling on mithers to +come and see the bonny wee dog was never before heard on Swanston +village green. Doors flew open and bareheaded women ran out. Then +the babies had to be brought, and the' old grandfaithers and +grandmithers. Everybody oh-ed and ah-ed and clapped hands, and +doubled up with laughter, for, a tempting bit held playfully just +out of reach, Bobby rose, again and again, jumped for it, and +chased a teasing laddie. Then he bethought him to roll over and +over, and to go through other winsome little tricks, as Auld Jock +had taught him to do, to win the reward. All this had one quite +unexpected result. A shrewd-eyed woman pounced upon Bobby and +captured him. + +"He's no' an ordinar' dog. Some leddy has lost her pet. I'll +juist shut 'im up, an' syne she'll pay a shullin' or twa to get +'im again." + +With a twist and a leap Bobby was gone. He scrambled straight up +the steep, thorn-clad wall of the glen, where no laddie could +follow, and was over the crest. It was a narrow escape, made by +terrific effort. His little heart pounding with exhaustion and +alarm, he hid under a whin bush to get his breath and strength. +The sheltered dell was windless, but here a stiff breeze blew. +Suddenly shifting a point, the wind brought to the little dog's +nose a whiff of the acrid coal smoke of Edinburgh three miles +away. + +Straight as an arrow he ran across country, over roadway and +wall, plowed fields and rippling burns. He scrambled under hedges +and dashed across farmsteads and cottage gardens. As he neared +the city the hour bells aided him, for the Skye terrier is keen +of hearing. It was growing dark when he climbed up the last bank +and gained Lauriston Place. There he picked up the odors of milk +and wool, and the damp smell of the kirkyard. + +Now for something comforting to put into his famished little +body. A night and a day of exhausting work, of anxiety and grief, +had used up the last ounce of fuel. Bobby raced down Forest Road +and turned the slight angle into Greyfriars Place. The lamp +lighter's progress toward the bridge was marked by the double row +of lamps that bloomed, one after one, on the dusk. The little dog +had come to the steps of Mr. Traill's place, and lifted himself +to scratch on the door, when the bugle began to blow. He dropped +with the first note and dashed to the kirkyard gate. + +None too soon! Mr. Brown was setting the little wicket gate +inside, against the wall. In the instant his back was turned, +Bobby slipped through. After nightfall, when the caretaker had +made his rounds, he came out from under the fallen table-tomb of +Mistress Jean Grant. + +Lights appeared at the rear windows of the tenements, and +families sat at supper. It was snell weather again, the sky dark +with threat of snow, and the windows were all closed. But with a +sharp bark beneath the lowest of them Bobby could have made his +presence and his wants known. He watched the people eating, +sitting wistfully about on his haunches here and there, but +remaining silent. By and by there were sounds of crying babies, +of crockery being washed, and the ringing of church bells far and +near. Then the lights were extinguished, and huge bulks of +shadow, of tenements and kirk, engulfed the kirkyard. + +When Bobby lay down on Auld Jock's grave, pellets of frozen snow +were falling and the air had hardened toward frost. + + + +VI. + +Sleep alone goes far to revive a little dog, and fasting sharpens +the wits. Bobby was so tired that he slept soundly, but so hungry +that he woke early, and instantly alert to his situation. It was +so very early of a dark winter morning that not even the sparrows +were out foraging in the kirkyard for dry seeds. The drum and +bugle had not been sounded from the Castle when the milk and +dustman's carts began to clatter over the frozen streets. With +the first hint of dawn stout fishwives, who had tramped all the +way in from the piers of Newhaven with heavily laden creels on +their heads, were lustily crying their "caller herrin'." Soon +fagot men began to call up the courts of tenements, where fuel +was bought by the scant bundle: "Are ye cauld?" + +Many a human waif in the tall buildings about the lower end of +Greyfriars kirkyard was cold, even in bed, but, in his thick +underjacket of fleece, Bobby was as warm as a plate of breakfast +toast. With a vigorous shaking he broke and scattered the crust +of snow that burdened his shaggy thatch. Then he lay down on the +grave again, with his nose on his paws. Urgent matters occupied +the little dog's mind. To deal with these affairs he had the long +head of the canniest Scot, wide and high between the ears, and a +muzzle as determined as a little steel trap. Small and forlorn as +he was, courage, resource and purpose marked him. + +As soon as the door of the caretaker's lodge opened he would have +to creep under the fallen slab again. To lie in such a cramped +position, hour after hour, day after day, was enough to break the +spirit of any warm blooded creature that lives. It was an +exquisite form of torture not long to be endured. And to get his +single meal a day at Mr. Traill's place Bobby had to watch for +the chance opening of the wicket to slip in and out like a thief. +The furtive life is not only perilous, it outrages every feeling +of an honest dog. It is hard for him to live at all without the +approval and the cordial consent of men. The human order hostile, +he quickly loses his self-respect and drops to the pariah class. +Already wee Bobby had the look of the neglected. His pretty coat +was dirty and unkempt. In his run across country, leaves, twigs +and burrs had become entangled in his long hair, and his legs and +underparts were caked with mire. + +Instinctively any dog struggles to escape the fate of the +outcast. By every art he possesses he ingratiates himself with +men. One that has his usefulness in the human scheme of things +often is able to make his own terms with life, to win the niche +of his choice. Bobby's one talent that was of practical value to +society was his hunting instinct for every small animal that +burrows and prowls and takes toll of men's labor. In Greyfriars +kirkyard was work to be done that he could do. For quite three +centuries rats and mice had multiplied in this old sanctuary +garden from which cats were chased and dogs excluded. Every +breeze that blew carried challenges to Bobby's offended nose. +Now, in the crisp gray dawn, a big rat came out into the open and +darted here and there over the powdering of dry snow that frosted +the kirkyard. + +A leap, as if released from a spring, and Bobby captured it. A +snap of his long muzzle, a jerk of his stoutly set head, and the +victim hung limp from his grip. And he followed another deeply +seated instinct when he carried the slain to Auld Jock's grave. +Trophies of the chase were always to be laid at the feet of the +master. + +"Gude dog! eh, but ye're a bonny wee fechter!" Auld Jock had +always said after such an exploit; and Bobby had been petted and +praised until he nearly wagged his crested tail off with +happiness and pride. Then he had been given some choice tidbit of +food as a reward for his prowess. The farmer of Cauldbrae had on +such occasions admitted that Bobby might be of use about barn and +dairy, and Mr. Traill had commended his capture of prowlers in +the dining-room. But Bobby was "ower young" and had not been "put +to the vermin" as a definite business in life. He caught a rat, +now and then, as he chased rabbits, merely as a diversion. When +he had caught this one he lay down again. But after a time he got +up deliberately and trotted down to the encircling line of old +courtyarded tombs. There were nooks and crannies between and +behind these along the wall into which the caretaker could not +penetrate with sickle, rake and spade, that formed sheltered +runways for rodents. + +A long, low, weasel-like dog that could flatten himself on the +ground, Bobby squeezed between railings and pedestals, scrambled +over fallen fragments of sculptured urns, trumpets, angels' +wings, altars, skull and cross-bones, and Latin inscribed +scrolls. He went on his stomach under holly and laurel shrubs, +burdocks, thistles, and tangled, dead vines. Here and there he lay +in such rubbish as motionless as the effigies careen on marble +biers. With the growing light grew the heap of the slain on Auld +Jock's grave. + +Having done his best, Bobby lay down again, worse in appearance +than before, but with a stouter heart. He did not stir, although +the shadows fled, the sepulchers stood up around the field of +snow, and slabs and shafts camped in ranks on the slope. Smoke +began to curl up from high, clustered chimney-pots; shutters were +opened, and scantily clad women had hurried errands on decaying +gallery and reeling stairway. Suddenly the Castle turrets were +gilded with pale sunshine, and all the little cells in the tall, +old houses hummed and buzzed and clacked with life. The +University bell called scattered students to morning prayers. +Pinched and elfish faces of children appeared at the windows +overlooking the kirkyard. The sparrows had instant news of that, +and the little winged beggars fluttered up to the lintels of +certain deep-set casements, where ill-fed bairns scattered +breakfasts of crumbs. + +Bobby watched all this without a movement. He shivered when the +lodge door was heard to open and shut and heavy footsteps +crunched on the gravel and snow around the church. "Juist fair +silly" on his quaking legs he stood up, head and tail drooped. +But he held his ground bravely, and when the caretaker sighted +him he trotted to meet the man, lifted himself on his hind +legs, his short, shagged fore paws on his breast, begging +attention and indulgence. Then he sprawled across the great +boots, asking pardon for the liberty he was taking. At last, all +in a flash, he darted back to the grave, sniffed at it, and stood +again, head up, plumy tail crested, all excitement, as much as to +say: + +"Come awa' ower, man, an' leuk at the brave sicht." + +If he could have barked, his meaning would have carried more +convincingly, but he "hauded 'is gab" loyally. And, alas, the +caretaker was not to be beguiled. Mr. Traill had told him Bobby +had been sent back to the hill farm, but here he was, +"perseestent" little rascal, and making some sort of bid for the +man's favor. Mr. Brown took his pipe out of his mouth in +surprised exasperation, and glowered at the dog. + +"Gang awa' oot wi' ye!" + +But Bobby was back again coaxing undauntedly, abasing himself +before the angry man, insisting that he had something of interest +to show. The caretaker was literally badgered and cajoled into +following him. One glance at the formidable heap of the slain, +and Mr. Brown dropped to a seat on the slab. + +"Preserve us a'!" + +He stared from the little dog to his victims, +turned them over with his stout stick and counted them, and +stared again. Bobby fixed his pleading eyes on the man and stood +at strained attention while fate hung in the balance. + +"Guile wark! Guile wark! A braw doggie, an' an unco' fechter. +Losh! but ye're a deil o' a bit dog!" + +All this was said in a tone of astonished comment, so +non-committal of feeling that Bobby's tail began to twitch in the +stress of his anxiety. When the caretaker spoke again, after a +long, puzzled frowning, it was to express a very human +bewilderment and irritation. + +"Noo, what am I gangin' to do wi' ye?" + +Ah, that was encouraging! A moment before, he had ordered Bobby +out in no uncertain tone. After another moment he referred the +question to a higher court. + +"Jeanie, woman, come awa' oot a meenit, wull ye?" + +A hasty pattering of carpet-slippered feet on the creaking snow, +around the kirk, and there was the neatest little apple-cheeked +peasant woman in Scotland, "snod" from her smooth, frosted hair, +spotless linen mutch and lawn kerchief, to her white, lamb's wool +stockings. + +"Here's the bit dog I was tellin' ye aboot; an' see for yersel' +what he's done noo." + +"The wee beastie couldna do a' that! It's as muckle as his ain +wecht in fou' vermin!" she cried. + +"Ay, he did. Thae terriers are sperity, by the ordinar'. Ane o' +them, let into the corn exchange a murky nicht, killed saxty in +ten meenits, an' had to be dragged awa' by the tail. Noo, what I +am gangin' to do wi' the takin' bit I dinna ken." + +It is very certain that simple Mistress Jean Brown had never +heard of Mr. Dick's advice to Miss Betsy Trotwood on the occasion +when young David Copperfield presented himself, travel-stained +and weary, before his good aunt. But out of her experience of +wholesome living she brought forth the same wise opinion. + +"I'd gie him a gude washin' first of a', Jamie. He leuks like +some puir, gaen-aboot dog." And she drew her short, blue-stuff +gown back from Bobby's grateful attentions. + +Mr. Brown slapped his corduroy-breeked knee and nodded his +grizzled head. "Richt ye are. It's maist michty, noo, I wadna +think o' that. When I was leevin' as an under gairdener wi' a +laird i' Argyleshire I was aye aboot the kennels wi' the gillies. +That was lang syne. The sma' terrier dogs were aye washed i' +claes tubs wi' warm water an' soap. Come awa', Bobby." + +The caretaker got up stiffly, for such snell weather was apt to +give him twinges in his joints. In him a youthful enthusiasm for +dogs had suddenly revived. Besides, although he would have denied +it, he was relieved at having the main issue, as to what was to +be done with this four-footed trespasser, side-tracked for a +time. Bobby followed him to the lodge at an eager trot, and he +dutifully hopped into the bath that was set on the rear doorstep. +Mr. Brown scrubbed him vigorously, and Bobby splashed and swam +and churned the soapy water to foam. He scrambled out at once, +when told to do so, and submitted to being dried with a big, +tow-linen towel. This was all a delightful novelty to Bobby. +Heretofore he had gone into any convenient tam or burn to swim, +and then dried himself by rolling on the heather and running +before the wind. Now he was bundled up ignominiously in an old +flannel petticoat, carried across a sanded kitchen floor and laid +on a warm hearth. + +"Doon wi' ye!" was the gruff order. Bobby turned around and +around on the hearth, like some little wild dog making a bed in +the jungle, before he obeyed. He kept very still during the +reading of a chapter and the singing of a Psalm, as he had been +taught to do at the farm by many a reminder from Auld Jock's +boot. And he kept away from the breakfast-table, although the +walls of his stomach were collapsed as flat as the sides of an +empty pocket. + +It was such a clean, shining little kitchen, with the scoured +deal table, chairs and cupboard, and the firelight from the grate +winked so on pewter mugs, copper kettle, willow-patterned plates +and diamond panes, that Bobby blinked too. Flowers bloomed in +pots on the casement sills, and a little brown skylark sang, +fluttering as if it would soar, in a gilded cage. After the +morning meal Mr. Brown lighted his pipe and put on his bonnet to +go out again, when he bethought him that Bobby might be needing +something to eat. + +"What'll ye gie 'im, Jeanie? At the laird's, noo, the terriers +were aye fed wi' bits o' livers an' cheese an' moor fowls' eggs, +an' sic-like, fried." + +"Havers, Jamie, it's no' releegious to feed a dog better than +puir bairns. He'll do fair weel wi' table-scraps." + +She set down a plate with a spoonful of porridge on it, a cold +potato, some bread crusts, and the leavings of a broiled caller +herrin'. It was a generous breakfast for so small a dog, but +Bobby had been without food for quite forty hours, and had done +an amazing amount of work in the meantime. When he had eaten all +of it, he was still hungry. As a polite hint, he polished the +empty plate with his pink tongue and looked up expectantly; but +the best-intentioned people, if they have had little to do with +dogs, cannot read such signs. + +"Ye needna lick the posies aff," the wifie said, good humoredly, +as she picked the plate up to wash it. She thought to put down a +tin basin of water. Bobby lapped a' it so eagerly, yet so +daintily, that she added: "He's a weel-broucht-up tyke, Jamie." + +"He is so. Noo, we'll see hoo weel he can leuk." In a shamefaced +way he fetched from a tool-box a long-forgotten, strong little +currycomb, such as is used on shaggy Shetland ponies. With that +he proceeded to give Bobby such a grooming as he had never had +before. It was a painful operation, for his thatch was a stubborn +mat of crisp waves and knotty tangles to his plumy tail and down +to his feathered toes. He braced himself and took the punishment +without a whimper, and when it was done he stood cascaded with +dark-silver ripples nearly to the floor. + +"The bonny wee!" cried Mistress Jeanie. "I canna tak' ma twa een +aff o' 'im." + +"Ay, he's bonny by the ordinar'. It wad be grand, noo, gin the +meenister'd fancy 'im an' tak' 'im into the manse." + +The wifie considered this ruefully. "Jamie, I was wishin' ye +didna hae to--" + +But what she wished he did not have to do, Mr. Brown did not stop +to hear. He suddenly clapped his bonnet on his head and went out. +He had an urgent errand on High Street, to buy grass and flower +seeds and tools that would certainly be needed in April. It took +him an hour or more of shrewd looking about for the best +bargains, in a swarm of little barnacle and cellar shops, to +spend a few of the kirk's shillings. When he found himself, to +his disgust, looking at a nail studded collar for a little dog he +called himself a "doited auld fule," and tramped back across the +bridge. + +At the kirkyard gate he stopped and read the notice through +twice: "No dogs permitted." That was as plain as "Thou shalt +not." To the pious caretaker and trained servant it was the +eleventh commandment. He shook his head, sighed, and went in to +dinner. Bobby was not in the house, and the master of it avoided +inquiring for him. He also avoided the wifie's wistful eye, and +he busied himself inside the two kirks all the afternoon. + +Because he was in the kirks, and the beautiful memorial windows +of stained glass were not for the purpose of looking out, he did +not see a dramatic incident that occurred in the kirkyard after +three o'clock in the afternoon. The prelude to it really began +with the report of the timegun at one. Bobby had insisted upon +being let out of the lodge kitchen, and had spent the morning +near Auld Jock's grave and in nosing about neighboring slabs and +thorn bushes. When the time-gun boomed he trotted to the gate +quite openly and waited there inside the wicket. + +In such nipping weather there were no visitors to the kirkyard +and the gate was not opened. The music bells ran the gamut of old +Scotch airs and ceased, while he sat there and waited patiently. +Once a man stopped to look at the little dog, and Bobby promptly +jumped on the wicket, plainly begging to have it unlatched. But +the passer-by decided that some lady had left her pet behind, and +would return for him. So he patted the attractive little +Highlander on the head and went on about his business. + +Discouraged by the unpromising outlook for dinner that day, Bobby +went slowly back to the grave. Twice afterward he made hopeful +pilgrimages to the gate. For diversion he fell noiselessly upon a +prowling cat and chased it out of the kirkyard. At last he sat +upon the table-tomb. He had escaped notice from the tenements all +the morning because the view from most of the windows was blocked +by washings, hung out and dripping, then freezing and clapping +against the old tombs. It was half-past three o'clock when a +tiny, wizened face popped out of one of the rude little windows +in the decayed Cunzie Neuk at the bottom of Candlemakers Row. +Crippled Tammy Barr called out in shrill excitement + +"Ailie! O-o-oh, Ailie Lindsey, there's the wee doggie!" + +"Whaur?" The lassie's elfin face looked out from a low, rear +window of the Candlemakers' Guildhall at the top of the Row. + +"On the stane by the kirk wa'." + +"I see 'im noo. Isna he bonny? I wish Bobby could bide i' the +kirkyaird, but they wadna let 'im. Tammy, gin ye tak' 'im up to +Maister Traill, he'll gie ye the shullin'!" + +"I couldna tak' 'im by ma lane," was the pathetic confession. +"Wad ye gang wi' me, Ailie? Ye could drap ower an' catch 'im, an' +I could come by the gate. Faither made me some grand crutches +frae an' auld chair back." + +Tears suddenly drowned the lassie's blue eyes and ran down her +pinched little cheeks. "Nae, I couldna gang. I haena ony shoon to +ma feet." + +"It's no' so cauld. Gin I had twa guile feet I could gang the bit +way wi'oot shoon." + +"I ken it isna so cauld," Ailie admitted, "but for a lassie it's +no' respectable to gang to a grand place barefeeted." + +That was undeniable, and the eager children fell silent and +tearful. But oh, necessity is the mother of makeshifts among the +poor! Suddenly Ailie cried: "Bide a meenit, Tammy," and vanished. +Presently she was back, with the difficulty overcome. "Grannie +says I can wear her shoon. She doesna wear 'em i' the hoose, +ava." + +"I'll gie ye a saxpence, Ailie," offered Tammy. + +The sordid bargain shocked no feeling of these tenement bairns +nor marred their pleasure in the adventure. Presently there was a +tap-tap-tapping of crutches on the heavy gallery that fronted the +Cunzie Neuk, and on the stairs that descended from it to the +steep and curving row. The lassie draped a fragment of an old +plaid deftly over her thinly clad shoulders, climbed through the +window, to the pediment of the classic tomb that blocked it, and +dropped into the kirkyard. To her surprise Bobby was there at her +feet, frantically wagging his tail, and he raced her to the gate. +She caught him on the steps of the dining room, and held his +wriggling little body fast until Tammy came up. + +It was a tumultuous little group that burst in upon the +astonished landlord: barking fluff of an excited dog, flying +lassie in clattering big shoes, and wee, tapping Tammy. They +literally fell upon him when he was engaged in counting out his +money. + +"Whaur did you find him?" asked Mr. Traill in bewilderment. + +Six-year-old Ailie slipped a shy finger into her mouth, and +looked to the very much more mature five-year old crippled laddie +to answer + +"He was i' the kirkyaird." + +"Sittin' upon a stane by 'is ainsel'," added Ailie. + +"An' no' hidin', ava. It was juist like he was leevin' there." + +"An' syne, when I drapped oot o' the window he louped at me so +bonny, an' I couldna keep up wi' 'im to the gate." + +Wonder of wonders! It was plain that Bobby had made his way back +from the hill farm and, from his appearance and manner, as well +as from this account, it was equally clear that some happy change +in his fortunes had taken place. He sat up on his haunches +listening with interest and lolling his tongue! And that was a +thing the bereft little dog had not done since his master died. +In the first pause in the talk he rose and begged for his dinner. + +"Noo, what am I to pay? It took ane, twa, three o' ye to fetch +ane sma' dog. A saxpence for the laddie, a saxpence for the +lassie, an' a bit meal for Bobby." + +While he was putting the plate down under the settle Mr. Traill +heard an amazed whisper "He's gien the doggie a chuckie bane." +The landlord switched the plate from under Bobby's protesting +little muzzle and turned to catch the hungry look on the faces of +the children. Chicken, indeed, for a little dog, before these +ill-fed bairns! Mr. Traill had a brilliant thought. + +"Preserve me! I didna think to eat ma ain dinner. I hae so muckle +to eat I canna eat it by ma lane." + +The idea of having too much to eat was so preposterously funny +that Tammy doubled up with laughter and nearly tumbled over his +crutches. Mr. Traill set him upright again. + +"Did ye ever gang on a picnic, bairnies?" And what was a picnic? +Tammy ventured the opinion that it might be some kind of a cart +for lame laddies to ride in. + +"A picnic is when ye gang gypsying in the summer," Mr. Traill +explained. "Ye walk to a bonny green brae, an' sit doon under a +hawthorntree a' covered wi' posies, by a babblin' burn, an' ye +eat oot o' yer ain hands. An' syne ye hear a throstle or a +redbreast sing an' a saucy blackbird whustle." + +"Could ye tak' a dog?" asked Tammy. + +"Ye could that, mannie. It's no' a picnic wi'oot a sonsie doggie +to rin on the brae wi' ye." + +"Oh!" Ailie's blue eyes slowly widened in her pallid little face. +"But ye couldna hae a picnic i' the snawy weather." + +"Ay, ye could. It's the bonniest of a' when ye're no' expectin' +it. I aye keep a picnic hidden i' the ingleneuk aboon." He +suddenly swung Tammy up on his shoulder, and calling, gaily, +"Come awa'," went out the door, through another beside it, and up +a flight of stairs to the dining-room above. A fire burned there +in the grate, the tables were covered with linen, and there were +blooming flowers in pots in the front windows. Patrons from the +University, and the well-to-do streets and squares to the south +and east, made of this upper room a sort of club in the evenings. +At four o'clock in the afternoon there were no guests. + +"Noo," said Mr. Traill, when his overcome little guests were +seated at a table in the inglenook. "A picnic is whaur ye hae +onything ye fancy to eat; gude things ye wullna be haein' ilka +day, ye mind." He rang a call-bell, and a grinning waiter laddie +popped up so quickly the lassie caught her breath. + +"Eneugh broo for aince," said Tammy. + +"Porridge that isna burned," suggested Ailie. Such pitiful +poverty of the imagination! + +"Nae, it's bread, an' butter, an' strawberry jam, an' tea wi' +cream an' sugar, an' cauld chuckie at a snawy picnic," announced +Mr. Traill. And there it was, served very quickly and silently, +after some manner of magic. Bobby had to stand on the fourth +chair to eat his dinner, and when he had despatched it he sat up +and viewed the little party with the liveliest interest and +happiness. + +"Tammy," Ailie said, when her shyness had worn off, "it's like +the grand tales ye mak' up i' yer heid." + +"Preserve me! Does the wee mannie mak' up stories?" + +"It's juist fulish things, aboot haein' mair to eat, an' a sonsie +doggie to play wi', an' twa gude legs to tak' me aboot. I think +'em oot at nicht when I canna sleep." + +"Eh, laddie, do ye noo?" Mr. Traill suddenly had a terrible +"cauld in 'is heid," that made his eyes water. "Hoo auld are ye?" + +"Five, gangin' on sax." + +"Losh! I thoucht ye war fifty, gangin' on saxty." Laughter saved +the day from overmoist emotions. And presently Mr. Traill was +able to say in a business-like tone: + +"We'll hae to tak' ye to the infirmary. An' if they canna mak' +yer legs ower ye'll get a pair o' braw crutches that are the +niest thing to gude legs. An' syne we'll see if there's no' a +place in Heriot's for a sma' laddie that mak's up bonny tales o' +his ain in the murky auld Cunzie Neuk." + +Now the gay little feast was eaten, and early dark was coming on. +If Mr. Traill had entertained the hope that Bobby had recovered +from his grief and might remain with him, he was disappointed. +The little dog began to be restless. He ran to the door and back; +he begged, and he scratched on the panel. And then he yelped! As +soon as the door was opened he shot out of it, tumbled down the +stairway and waited at the foot impatiently for the lower door to +be unlatched. Ailie's thin, swift legs were left behind when +Bobby dashed to the kirkyard. + +Tammy followed at a surprising pace on his rude crutches, and Mr. +Traill brought up the rear. If the children could not smuggle the +frantic little dog inside, the landlord meant to put him over the +wicket and, if necessary, to have it out with the caretaker, and +then to go before the kirk minister and officers with his plea. +He was still concealed by the buildings, from the alcoved gate, +when he heard Mr. Brown's gruff voice taking the frightened +bairns to task. + +"Gie me the dog; an' dinna ye tak' him oot ony mair wi'oot +spierin' me." + +The children fled. Peeping around the angle of the Book Hunter's +Stall, Mr. Traill saw the caretaker lift Bobby over the wicket to +his arms, and start with him toward the lodge. He was perishing +with curiosity about this astonishing change of front on the part +of Mr. Brown, but it was a delicate situation in which it seemed +best not to meddle. He went slowly back to the restaurant, +begrudging Bobby to the luckier caretaker. + +His envy was premature. Mr. Brown set Bobby inside the lodge +kitchen and announced briefly to his wife: "The bit dog wull +sleep i' the hoose the nicht." And he went about some business at +the upper end of the kirkyard. When he came in an hour later +Bobby was gone. + +"I couldna keep 'im in, Jamie. He didna blatter, but he greeted +so sair to be let oot, an syne he scratched a' the paint aff the +door." + +Mr. Brown glowered at her in exasperation. "Woman, they'll hae me +up afore kirk sessions for brakin' the rules, an' syne they'll +turn us a' oot i' the cauld warld togither." + +He slammed the door and stormed angrily around the kirk. It was +still light enough to see the little creature on the snowy mound +and, indeed, Bobby got up and wagged his tail in friendly +greeting. At that all the bluster went out of the man, and he +began to argue the matter with the dog. + +"Come awa', Bobby. Ye canna be leevin' i' the kirkyaird." + +Bobby was of a different opinion. He turned around and around, +thoughtfully, several times, then sat up on the grave. Entirely +willing to spend a social hour with his new friend, he fixed his +eyes hospitably upon him. Mr. Brown dropped to the slab, lighted +his pipe, and smoked for a time, to compose his agitated mind. By +and by he got up briskly and stooped to lift the little dog. At +that Bobby dug his claws in the clods and resisted with all his +muscular body and determined mind. He clung to the grave so +desperately, and looked up so piteously, that the caretaker +surrendered. And there was snod Mistress Jeanie, forgetting her +spotless gown and kneeling in the snow. + +"Puir Bobby, puir wee Bobby!" she cried, and her tears fell on +the little tousled head. The caretaker strode abruptly away and +waited for the wifie in the shadow of the auld kirk. Bobby lifted +his muzzle and licked the caressing hand. Then he curled himself +up comfortably on the mound and went to sleep. + + + +VIII. + +In no part of Edinburgh did summer come up earlier, or with more +lavish bloom, than in old Greyfriars kirkyard. Sheltered on the +north and east, it was open to the moist breezes of the +southwest, and during all the lengthening afternoons the sun lay +down its slope and warmed the rear windows of the overlooking +tenements. Before the end of May the caretaker had much ado to +keep the growth in order. Vines threatened to engulf the circling +street of sepulchers in greenery and bloom, and grass to encroach +on the flower plots. + +A half century ago there were no rotary lawnmowers to cut off +clover heads; and, if there had been, one could not have been +used on these dropping terraces, so populous with slabs and so +closely set with turfed mounds and oblongs of early flowering +annuals and bedding plants. Mr. Brown had to get down on his +hands and knees, with gardener's shears, to clip the turfed +borders and banks, and take a sickle to the hummocks. Thus he +could dig out a root of dandelion with the trowel kept ever in +his belt, consider the spreading crocuses and valley lilies, +whether to spare them, give a country violet its blossoming time, +and leave a screening burdock undisturbed until fledglings were +out of their nests in the shrubbery. + +Mistress Jeanie often brought out a little old milking stool on +balmy mornings, and sat with knitting or mending in one of the +narrow aisles, to advise her gude-mon in small matters. Bobby +trotted quietly about, sniffing at everything with the liveliest +interest, head on this side or that, alertly. His business, +learned in his first summer in Greyfriars, was to guard the nests +of foolish skylarks, song-thrushes, redbreasts and wrens, that +built low in lilac, laburnum, and flowering currant bushes, in +crannies of wall and vault, and on the ground. It cannot but be a +pleasant thing to be a wee young dog, full of life and good +intentions, and to play one's dramatic part in making an old +garden of souls tuneful with bird song. A cry of alarm from +parent or nestling was answered instantly by the tiny, tousled +policeman, and there was a prowler the less, or a skulking cat +was sent flying over tomb and wall. + +His duty done, without noise or waste of energy, Bobby returned +to lie in the sun on Auld Jock's grave. Over this beloved mound a +coverlet of rustic turf had been spread as soon as the frost was +out of the ground, and a bonny briar bush planted at the head. +Then it bore nature's own tribute of flowers, for violets, +buttercups, daisies and clover blossoms opened there and, later, +a spike or so of wild foxglove and a knot of heather. Robin +redbreasts and wrens foraged around Bobby, unafraid; swallows +swooped down from their mud villages, under the dizzy dormers and +gables, to flush the flies on his muzzle, and whole flocks of +little blue titmice fluttered just overhead, in their rovings +from holly and laurel to newly tasseled firs and yew trees. + +The click of the wicket gate was another sort of alarm +altogether. At that the little dog slipped under the fallen +table-tomb and lay hidden there until any strange visitor had +taken himself away. Except for two more forced returns and +ingenious escapes from the sheepfarm on the Pentlands, Bobby had +lived in the kirkyard undisturbed for six months. The caretaker +had neither the heart to put him out nor the courage to face the +minister and the kirk officers with a plea for him to remain. +The little dog's presence there was known, apparently, only to +Mr. Traill, to a few of the tenement dwellers, and to the Heriot +boys. If his life was clandestine in a way, it was as regular of +hour and duty and as well ordered as that of the garrison in the +Castle. + +When the time-gun boomed, Bobby was let out for his midday meal +at Mr. Traill's and for a noisy run about the neighborhood to +exercise his lungs and legs. On Wednesdays he haunted the +Grassmarket, sniffing at horses, carts and mired boots. Edinburgh +had so many shaggy little Skye and Scotch terriers that one more +could go about unremarked. Bobby returned to the kirkyard at his +own good pleasure. In the evening he was given a supper of +porridge and broo, or milk, at the kitchen door of the lodge, and +the nights he spent on Auld Jock's grave. The morning drum and +bugle woke him to the chase, and all his other hours were spent +in close attendance on the labors of the caretaker. The click of +the wicket gate was the signal for instant disappearance. + +A scramble up the wall from Heriot's Hospital grounds, or the +patter of bare feet on the gravel, however, was notice to come +out and greet a friend. Bobby was host to the disinherited +children of the tenements. Now, at the tap-tap-tapping of Tammy +Barr's crutches, he scampered up the slope, and he suited his +pace to the crippled boy's in coming down again. Tammy chose a +heap of cut grass on which to sit enthroned and play king, a +grand new crutch for a scepter, and Bobby for a courtier. At +command, the little dog rolled over and over, begged, and walked +on his hind legs. He even permitted a pair of thin little arms to +come near strangling him, in an excess of affection. Then he +wagged his tail and lolled his tongue to show that he was +friendly, and trotted away about his business. Tammy took an +oat-cake from his pocket to nibble, and began a conversation with +Mistress Jeanie. + +"I broucht a picnic wi' me." + +"Did ye, noo? An' hoo did ye ken aboot picnics, laddie?" + +"Maister Traill was tellin' Ailie an' me. There's ilka thing to +mak' a picnic i' the kirkyaird. They couldna mak' my legs gude i' +the infairmary, but I'm gangin' to Heriot's. I'll juist hae to +airn ma leevin' wi' ma heid, an' no' remember aboot ma legs, ava. +Is he no' a bonny doggie?" + +"Ay, he's bonny. An' ye're a braw laddie no' to fash yersel' +aboot what canna be helped." + +The wifie took his ragged jacket and mended it, dropped a tear in +an impossible hole, and a ha'penny in the one good pocket. And by +and by the pale laddie slept there among the bright graves, in +the sun. After another false alarm from the gate she asked her +gude-mon, as she had asked many times before: + +"What'll ye do, Jamie, when the meenister kens aboot Bobby, an' +ca's ye up afore kirk sessions for brakin' the rule?" + +"We wullna cross the brig till we come to the burn, woman," he +invariably answered, with assumed unconcern. Well he knew that +the bridge might be down and the stream in flood when he came to +it. But Mr. Traill was a member of Greyfriars auld kirk, too, and +a companion in guilt, and Mr. Brown relied not a little on the +landlord's fertile mind and daring tongue. And he relied on +useful, well-behaving Bobby to plead his own cause. + +"There's nae denyin' the doggie is takin' in 'is ways. He's had +twa gude hames fair thrown at 'is heid, but the sperity bit keeps +to 'is ain mind. An' syne he's usefu', an' hauds 'is gab by the +ordinar'." He often reinforced his inclination with some such +argument. + +With all their caution, discovery was always imminent. The +kirkyard was long and narrow and on rising levels, and it was cut +almost across by the low mass of the two kirks, so that many +things might be going on at one end that could not be seen from +the other. On this Saturday noon, when the Heriot boys were let +out for the half-holiday, Mr. Brown kept an eye on them until +those who lived outside had dispersed. When Mistress Jeanie +tucked her knitting-needles in her belt, and went up to the lodge +to put the dinner over the fire, the caretaker went down toward +Candlemakers Row to trim the grass about the martyrs' monument. +Bobby dutifully trotted at his heels. Almost immediately a +half-dozen laddies, led by Geordie Ross and Sandy McGregor, +scaled the wall from Heriot's grounds and stepped down into the +kirkyard, that lay piled within nearly to the top. They had a +perfectly legitimate errand there, but no mission is to be +approached directly by romantic boyhood. + +"Hist!" was the warning, and the innocent invaders, feeling +delightfully lawless, stole over and stormed the marble castle, +where "Bluidy" McKenzie slept uneasily against judgment day. +Light-hearted lads can do daring deeds on a sunny day that would +freeze their blood on a dark and stormy night. So now Geordie +climbed nonchalantly to a seat over the old persecutor, crossed +his stout, bare legs, filled an imaginary pipe, and rattled the +three farthings in his pocket. + +"I'm 'Jinglin' Geordie' Heriot," he announced. + +"I'll show ye hoo a prood goldsmith ance smoked wi' a'." +Then, jauntily: "Sandy, gie a crack to 'Bluidy' McKenzie's door +an' daur the auld hornie to come oot." + +The deed was done amid breathless apprehensions, but nothing +disturbed the silence of the May noon except the lark that sprang +at their feet and soared singing into the blue. It was Sandy who +presently whistled like a blackbird to attract the attention of +Bobby. + +There were no blackbirds in the kirkyard, and Bobby understood +the signal. He scampered up at once and dashed around the kirk, +all excitement, for he had had many adventures with the Heriot +boys at skating and hockey on Duddingston Lock in the winter, and +tramps over the country and out to Leith harbor in the spring. +The laddies prowled along the upper wall of the kirks, opened and +shut the wicket, to give the caretaker the idea that they had +come in decorously by the gate, and went down to ask him, with +due respect and humility, if they could take Bobby out for the +afternoon. They were going to mark the places where wild flowers +might be had, to decorate "Jinglin' Geordie's" portrait, statue +and tomb at the school on Founder's Day. Mr. Brown considered +them with a glower that made the boys nudge each other knowingly. +"Saturday isna the day for 'im to be gaen aboot. He aye has a +washin' an' a groomin' to mak' 'im fit for the Sabbath. An', by +the leuk o' ye, ye'd be nane the waur for soap an' water yer +ainsel's." + +"We'll gie 'im 'is washin' an' combin' the nicht," they +volunteered, eagerly. + +"Weel, noo, he wullna hae 'is dinner till the time-gun." + +Neither would they. At that, annoyed by their persistence, Mr. +Brown denied authority. + +"Ye ken weel he isna ma dog. Ye'll hae to gang up an' spier +Maister Traill. He's fair daft aboot the gude-for-naethin' tyke." + +This was understood as permission. As the boys ran up to the +gate, with Bobby at their heels, Mr. Brown called after them: "Ye +fetch 'im hame wi' the sunset bugle, an' gin ye teach 'im ony o' +yer unmannerly ways I'll tak' a stick to yer breeks." + +When they returned to Mr. Traill's place at two o'clock the +landlord stood in shirt-sleeves and apron in the open doorway +with Bobby, the little dog gripping a mutton shank in his mouth. + +"Bobby must tak' his bone down first and hide it awa'. The +Sabbath in a kirkyard is a dull day for a wee dog, so he aye gets +a catechism of a bone to mumble over." + +'The landlord sighed in open envy when the laddies and the little +dog tumbled down the Row to the Grassmarket on their gypsying. +His eyes sought out the glimpse of green country on the dome of +Arthur's Seat, that loomed beyond the University towers to the +east. There are times when the heart of a boy goes ill with the +sordid duties of the man. + +Straight down the length of the empty market the laddies ran, +through the crooked, fascinating haunt of horses and jockeys in +the street of King's Stables, then northward along the fronts of +quaint little handicrafts shops that skirted Castle Crag. By +turning westward into Queensferry Street a very few minutes would +have brought them to a bit of buried country. But every +expedition of Edinburgh lads of spirit of that day was properly +begun with challenges to scale Castle Rock from the valley park +of Princes Street Gardens on the north. + +"I daur ye to gang up!" was all that was necessary to set any +group of youngsters to scaling the precipice. By every tree and +ledge, by every cranny and point of rock, stoutly rooted hazel +and thorn bush and clump of gorse, they climbed. These laddies +went up a quarter or a third of the way to the grim ramparts and +came cautiously down again. Bobby scrambled higher, tumbled back +more recklessly and fell, head over heels and upside down, on the +daisied turf. He righted himself at once, and yelped in sharp +protest. Then he sniffed and busied himself with pretenses, in +the elaborate unconcern with which a little dog denies anything +discreditable. There were legends of daring youth having climbed +this war-like cliff and laying hands on the fortress wall, but +Geordie expressed a popular feeling in declaring these tales "a' +lees." + +"No' ony laddie could gang a' the way up an' come doon wi' 'is +heid no' broken. Bobby couldna do it, an' he's mair like a wild +fox than an ordinar' dog. Noo, we're the Light Brigade at +Balaklava. Chairge!" + +The Crimean War was then a recent event. Heroes of Sebastopol +answered the summons of drum and bugle in the Castle and fired +the hearts of Edinburgh youth. Cannon all around them, and +"theirs not to reason why," this little band stormed out +Queensferry Street and went down, hand under hand, into the fairy +underworld of Leith Water. + +All its short way down from the Pentlands to the sea, the Water +of Leith was then a foaming little river of mills, twisting at +the bottom of a gorge. One cliff-like wall or the other lay to +the sun all day, so that the way was lined with a profusion of +every wild thing that turns green and blooms in the Lowlands of +Scotland. And it was filled to the brim with bird song and water +babble. + +A crowd of laddies had only to go inland up this gorge to find +wild and tame bloom enough to bury "Jinglin' Geordie" all over +again every year. But adventure was to be had in greater variety +by dropping seaward with the bickering brown water. These waded +along the shallow margin, walked on shelving sands of gold, and, +where the channel was filled, they clung to the rocks and picked +their way along dripping ledges. Bobby missed no chance to swim. +If he could scramble over rough ground like a squirrel or a fox, +he could swim like an otter. Swept over the low dam at Dean +village, where a cup-like valley was formed, he tumbled over and +over in the spray and was all but drowned. As soon as he got his +breath and his bearings he struck out frantically for the bank, +shook the foam from his eyes and ears, and barked indignantly at +the saucy fall. The white miller in the doorway of the +gray-stone, red-roofed mill laughed, and anxious children ran +down from a knot of storybook cottages and gay dooryards. "I'll +gie ye ten shullin's for the sperity bit dog," the miller +shouted, above the clatter of the' wheel and the swish of the +dam. + +"He isna oor ain dog," Geordie called back. "But he wullna droon. +He's got a gude heid to 'im, an' wullna be sic a bittie fule +anither time." + +Indeed he had a good head on him! Bobby never needed a second +lesson. At Silver Mills and Canon Mills he came out and trotted +warily around the dam. Where the gorge widened to a valley toward +the sea they all climbed up to Leith Walk, that ran to the +harbor, and came out to a wonder-world of water-craft anchored in +the Firth. Each boy picked out his ship to go adventuring. + +"I'm gangin' to Norway!" + +Geordie was scornful. "Hoots, ye tame pussies. Ye're fleid o' +gettin' yer feet wat. I'll be rinnin' aff to be a pirate. Come +awa' doon." + +They followed the leader along shore and boarded an abandoned +and evil-smelling fishingboat. There they ran up a ragged jacket +for a black flag. But sailing a stranded craft palled presently. + +"Nae, I'm gangin' to be a Crusoe. Preserve me! If there's no' a +futprint i' the sand Bobby's ma sma' man Friday." + +Away they ran southward to find a castaway's shelter in a hollow +on the golf links. Soon this was transformed into a wrecker's +den, and then into the hiding-place of a harried Covenanter +fleeing religious persecution. Daring things to do swarmed in +upon their minds, for Edinburgh laddies live in a city of +romantic history, of soldiers, of near-by mountains, and of sea +rovings. No adventure served them five minutes, and Bobby was in +every one. Ah, lucky Bobby, to have such gay playfellows on a +sunny afternoon and under foot the open country! + +And fortunate laddies to have such a merry rascal of a wee dog +with them! To the mile they ran, Bobby went five, scampering in +wide circles and barking and louping at butterflies and +whaups. He made a detour to the right to yelp saucily at the +red-coated sentry who paced before the Gothic gateway to the +deserted Palace of Holyrood, and as far to the left to harry the +hoofs of a regiment of cavalry drilling before the barracks at +Piershill. He raced on ahead and swam out to scatter the fleet +of swan sailing or the blue mirror of Duddingston Loch. + +The tired boys lay blissfully up the sunny side of Arthur's Seat +in a thicket of hazel while Geordie carried out a daring plan for +which privacy was needed. Bobby was solemnly arraigned before a +court on the charge of being a seditious Covenanting meenister, +and was required to take the oath of loyalty to English King and +Church on pain of being hanged in the Grassmarket. The oath had +been duly written out on paper and greased with mutton tallow to +make it more palatable. Bobby licked the fat off with relish. +Then he took the paper between his sharp little teeth and merrily +tore it to shreds. And, having finished it, he barked cheerful +defiance at the court. The lads came near rolling down the slope +with laughter, and they gave three cheers for the little hero. +Sandy remarked, "Ye wadna think, noo, sic a sonsie doggie wad be +leevin' i' the murky auld kirkyaird." + +Bobby had learned the lay of the tipped-up and scooped-out and +jumbled auld toon, and he led the way homeward along the southern +outskirts of the city. He turned up Nicolson Street, that ran +northward, past the University and the old infirmary. To get into +Greyfriars Place from the east at that time one had to descend to +the Cowgate and climb out again. Bobby darted down the first of +the narrow wynds. + +Suddenly he turned 'round and 'round in bewilderment, then shot +through a sculptured door way, into a well-like court, and up a +flight of stone stairs. The slamming of a shutter overhead +shocked him to a standstill on the landing and sent him dropping +slowly down again. What memories surged back to his little +brain, what grief gripped his heart, as he stood trembling on a +certain spot in the pavement where once a long deal box had +rested! + +"What ails the bittie dog?" There was something here that sobered +the thoughtless boys. "Come awa', Bobby!" + +At that he came obediently enough. But he trotted down the very +middle of the wynd, head and tail low, and turned unheeding into +the Saturday-evening roar of the Cowgate. He refused to follow +them up the rise between St. Magdalen's Chapel and the eastern +parapet of the bridge, but kept to his way under the middle arch +into the Grassmarket. By way of Candlemakers Row he gained the +kirkyard gate, and when the wicket was opened he disappeared +around the church. When Bobby failed to answer calls, Mr. Brown +grumbled, but went after him. The little dog submitted to his +vigorous scrubbing and grooming, but he refused his supper. +Without a look or a wag of the tail he was gone again. + +"Noo, what hae ye done to'im? He's no' like 'is ainsel' ava." + +They had done nothing, indeed. They could only relate Bobby's +strange behavior in College Wynd and the rest of the way home. +Mistress Jeanie nodded her head, with the wisdom of women that is +of the heart. + +"Eh, Jamie, that wad be whaur 'is maister deed sax months syne." +And having said it she slipped down the slope with her knitting +and sat on the mound beside the mourning little dog. + +When the awe-struck lads asked for the story Mr. Brown shook his +head. "Ye spier Maister Traill. He kens a' aboot it; an' syne he +can talk like a beuk." + +Before they left the kirkyard the laddies walked down to Auld +Jock's grave and patted Bobby on the head, and they went away +thoughtfully to their scattered homes. + +As on that first morning when his grief was new, Bobby woke to a +Calvinistic Sabbath. There were no rattling carts or hawkers +crying their wares. Steeped in sunshine, the Castle loomed golden +into the blue. Tenement dwellers slept late, and then moved about +quietly. Children with unwontedly clean faces came out to +galleries and stairs to study their catechisms. Only the birds +were unaware of the seventh day, and went about their melodious +business; and flower buds opened to the sun. + +In mid-morning there suddenly broke on the sweet stillness that +clamor of discordant bells that made the wayfarer in Edinburgh +stop his ears. All the way from Leith Harbor to the Burghmuir +eight score of warring bells contended to be heard. Greyfriars +alone was silent in that babblement, for it had lost tower and +bell in an explosion of gunpowder. And when the din ceased at +last there was a sound of military music. The Castle gates swung +wide, and a kilted regiment marched down High Street playing "God +Save the Queen." When Bobby was in good spirits the marching +music got into his legs and set him to dancing scandalously. The +caretaker and his wifie always came around the kirk on pleasant +mornings to see the bonny sight of the gay soldiers going to +church. + +To wee Bobby these good, comfortable, everyday friends of his +must have seemed strange in their black garments and their +serious Sunday faces. And, ah! the Sabbath must, indeed, have +been a dull day to the little dog. He had learned that when the +earliest comer clicked the wicket he must go under the table-tomb +and console himself with the extra bone that Mr. Traill never +failed to remember. With an hour's respite for dinner at the +lodge, between the morning and afternoon services, he lay there +all day. The restaurant was closed, and there was no running +about for good dogs. In the early dark of winter he could come +out and trot quietly about the silent, deserted place. + +As soon as the crocuses pushed their green noses through the +earth in the spring the congregation began to linger among the +graves, for to see an old burying ground renew its life is a +peculiar promise of the resurrection. By midsummer visitors were +coming from afar, some even from over-sea, to read the quaint +inscriptions on the old tombs, or to lay tributes of flowers on +the graves of poets and religious heroes. It was not until the +late end of such a day that Bobby could come out of hiding to +stretch his cramped legs. Then it was that tenement children +dropped from low windows, over the tombs, and ate their suppers +of oat cake there in the fading light. + +When Mr. Traill left the kirkyard in the bright evening of the +last Sunday in May he stopped without to wait for Dr. Lee, the +minister of Greyfriars auld kirk, who had been behind him to the +gate. Now he was nowhere to be seen. With Bobby ever in the +background of his mind, at such times of possible discovery, Mr. +Traill reentered the kirkyard. The minister was sitting on the +fallen slab, tall silk hat off, with Mr. Brown standing beside +him, uncovered and miserable of aspect, and Bobby looking up +anxiously at this new element in his fate. + +"Do you think it seemly for a dog to be living in the churchyard, +Mr. Brown?" The minister's voice was merely kind and inquiring, +but the caretaker was in fault, and this good English was +disconcerting. However, his conscience acquitted him of moral +wrong, and his sturdy Scotch independence came to the rescue. + +"Gin a bit dog, wha hands 'is gab, isna seemly, thae pussies are +the deil's ain bairns." + +The minister lifted his hand in rebuke. "Remember the Sabbath +Day. And I see no cats, Mr. Brown." + +"Ye wullna see ony as lang as the wee doggie is leevin' i' the +kirkyaird. An' the vermin hae sneekit awa' the first time sin' +Queen Mary's day. An' syne there's mair singin' birdies than for +mony a year." + +Mr. Traill had listened, unseen. Now he came forward with a gay +challenge in broad Scotch to put the all but routed caretaker at +his ease. + +"Doctor, I hae a queistion to spier ye. Which is mair unseemly: a +weel-behavin' bittie tyke i' the kirkyaird or a scandalous organ +i' the kirk?" + +"Ah, Mr. Traill, I'm afraid you're a sad, irreverent young dog +yourself, sir." The minister broke into a genial laugh. "Man, +you've spoiled a bit of fun I was having with Mr. Brown, who +takes his duties 'sairiously."' He sat looking down at the little +dog until Bobby came up to him and stood confidingly under his +caressing hand. Then he added: "I have suspected for some months +that he was living in the churchyard. It is truly remarkable that +an active, noisy little Skye could keep so still about it." + +At that Mr. Brown retreated to the martyrs' monument to meditate +on the unministerial behavior of this minister and professor of +Biblical criticism in the University. Mr. Traill, however, sat +himself down on the slab for a pleasant probing into the soul of +this courageous dominie, who had long been under fire for his +innovations in the kirk services. + +"I heard of Bobby first early in the winter, from a Bible-reader +at the Medical Mission in the Cowgate, who saw the little dog's +master buried. He sees many strange, sad things in his work, but +nothing ever shocked him so as the lonely death of that pious old +shepherd in such a picturesque den of vice and misery." + +"Ay, he went from my place, fair ill, into the storm. I never +knew whaur the auld man died." + +The minister looked at Mr. Traill, struck by the note of remorse +in his tone. + +"The missionary returned to the churchyard to look for the dog +that had refused to leave the grave. He concluded that Bobby had +gone away to a new home and master, as most dogs do go sooner or +later. Some weeks afterward the minister of a small church in the +hills inquired for him and insisted that he was still here. This +last week, at the General Assembly, I heard of the wee Highlander +from several sources. The tales of his escapes from the +sheep-farm have grown into a sort of Odyssey of the Pentlands. I +think, perhaps, if you had not continued to feed him, Mr. Traill, +he might have remained at his old home." + +"Nae, I'm no' thinking so, and I was no' willing to risk the +starvation of the bonny, leal Highlander." + +Until the stars came out Mr. Traill sat there telling the story. +At mention of his master's name Bobby returned to the mound and +stretched himself across it. "I will go before the kirk officers, +Doctor Lee, and tak' full responseebility. Mr. Brown is no' to +blame. It would have tak'n a man with a heart of trap-rock to +have turned the woeful bit dog out." + +"He is well cared for and is of a hardy breed, so he is not +likely to suffer; but a dog, no more than a man, cannot live on +bread alone. His heart hungers for love." + +"Losh!" cried Mr. Brown. "Are ye thinkin' he isna gettin' it? Oor +bairns are a' oot o' the hame nest, an' ma woman, Jeanie, is fair +daft aboot Bobby, aye thinkin' he'll tak' the measles. An' syne, +there's a' the tenement bairns cryin' oot on 'im ilka meenit, an' +ane crippled laddie he een lets fondle 'im." + +"Still, it would be better if he belonged to some one master. +Everybody's dog is nobody's dog," the minister insisted. "I wish +you could attach him to you, Mr. Traill." + +"Ay, it's a disappointment to me that he'll no' bide with me. +Perhaps, in time--" + +"It's nae use, ava," Mr. Brown interrupted, and he related the +incident of the evening before. "He's cheerfu' eneugh maist o' +the time, an' likes to be wi' the laddies as weel as ony dog, but +he isna forgettin' Auld Jock. The wee doggie cam' again to 'is +maister's buryin'. Man, ye ne'er saw the like o' it. The wifie +found 'im flattened oot to a furry door-mat, an' greetin' to brak +'is heart." + +"It's a remarkable story; and he's a beautiful little dog, and a +leal one." The minister stooped and patted Bobby, and he was +thoughtful all the way to the gate. + +"The matter need not be brought up in any formal way. I will +speak to the elders and deacons about it privately, and refer +those wanting details to you, Mr. Traill. Mr. Brown," he called +to the caretaker who stood in the lodge door, "it cannot be +pleasing to God to see the little creature restrained. Give Bobby +his liberty on the Sabbath." + + + +VIII. + +It was more than eight years after Auld Jock fled from the threat +of a doctor that Mr. Traill's prediction, that his tongue would +get him into trouble with the magistrates, was fulfilled; and +then it was because of the least-considered slip in speaking to a +boyhood friend who happened to be a Burgh policeman. + +Many things had tried the landlord of Ye Olde Greyfriars +Dining-Rooms. After a series of soft April days, in which lilacs +budded and birds sang in the kirkyard, squalls of wind and rain +came up out of the sea-roaring east. The smoky old town of +Edinburgh was so shaken and beaten upon and icily drenched that +rattling finials and tiles were torn from ancient gables and +whirled abroad. Rheumatic pains were driven into the joints of +the elderly. Mr. Brown took to his bed in the lodge, and Mr. +Traill was touchy in his temper. + +A sensitive little dog learns to read the human barometer with a +degree of accuracy rarely attained by fellowmen and, in times of +low pressure, wisely effaces himself. His rough thatch streaming, +Bobby trotted in blithely for his dinner, ate it under the +settle, shook himself dry, and dozed half the afternoon. + +To the casual observer the wee terrier was no older than when his +master died. As swift of foot and as sound of wind as he had +ever been, he could tear across country at the heels of a new +generation of Heriot laddies and be as fresh as a daisy at +nightfall. Silvery gray all over, the whitening hairs on his face +and tufted feet were not visible. His hazel-brown eyes were still +as bright and soft and deep as the sunniest pools of Leith Water. +It was only when he opened his mouth for a tiny, pink cavern of a +yawn that the points of his teeth could be seen to be wearing +down; and his after-dinner nap was more prolonged than of old. At +such times Mr. Traill recalled that the longest life of a dog is +no more than a fifth of the length of days allotted to man. + +On that snarling April day, when only himself and the flossy ball +of sleeping Skye were in the place, this thought added to Mr. +Traill's discontent. There had been few guests. Those who had +come in, soaked and surly, ate their dinner in silence and +discomfort and took themselves away, leaving the freshly scrubbed +floor as mucky as a moss-hag on the moor. Late in the afternoon a +sergeant, risen from the ranks and cocky about it, came in and +turned himself out of a dripping greatcoat, dapper and dry in his +red tunic, pipe-clayed belt, and winking buttons. He ordered tea +and toast and Dundee marmalade with an air of gay well-being that +was no less than a personal affront to a man in Mr. Traill's +frame of mind. Trouble brewed with the tea that Ailie Lindsey, a +tall lassie of fifteen, but shy and elfish as of old, brought in +on a tray from the scullery. + +When this spick-and-span non-commissioned officer demanded Mr. +Traill's price for the little dog that took his eye, the landlord +replied curtly that Bobby was not for sale. The soldier was +insolently amused. + +"That's vera surprisin'. I aye thoucht an Edinburgh shopkeeper +wad sell ilka thing he had, an' tak' the siller to bed wi' 'im to +keep 'im snug the nicht." + +Mr. Traill returned, with brief sarcasm, that "his lairdship" had +been misinformed. + +"Why wull ye no' sell the bit dog?" the man insisted. + +The badgered landlord turned upon him and answered at length, +after the elaborate manner of a minister who lays his sermon off +in sections + +"First: he's no' my dog to sell. Second: he's a dog of rare +discreemination, and is no' like to tak' you for a master. Third: +you soldiers aye have with you a special brand of shulling-a-day +impudence. And, fourth and last, my brither: I'm no' needing your +siller, and I can manage to do fair weel without your +conversation." + +As this bombardment proceeded, the sergeant's jaw dropped. When +it was finished he laughed heartily and slapped his knee. "Man, +come an' brak bread wi' me or I'll hae to brak yer stiff neck." + +A truce was declared over a cozy pot of tea, and the two became +at least temporary friends. It was such a day that the landlord +would have gossiped with a gaol bird; and when a soldier who has +seen years of service, much of it in strange lands, once admits a +shopkeeper to equality, he can be affable and entertaining +"by the ordinar'." Mr. Traill sketched Bobby's story broadly, and +to a sympathetic listener; and the soldier told the landlord of +the animals that had lived and died in the Castle. + +Parrots and monkeys and strange dogs and cats had been brought +there by regiments returning from foreign countries and colonies. +But most of the pets had been native dogs--collies, spaniels and +terriers, and animals of mixed breeds and of no breed at all, but +just good dogs. No one knew when the custom began, but there was +an old and well-filled cemetery for the Castle pets. When a dog +died a little stone was set up, with the name of the animal and +the regiment to which it had belonged on it. Soldiers often went +there among the tiny mounds and told stories of the virtues and +taking ways of old favorites. And visitors read the names of +Flora and Guy and Dandie, of Prince Charlie and Rob Roy, of +Jeanie and Bruce and Wattie. It was a merry life for a dog in the +Castle. He was petted and spoiled by homesick men, and when he +died there were a thousand mourners at his funeral. + +"Put it to the bit Skye noo. If he tak's the Queen's shullin' he +belongs to the army." The sergeant flipped a coin before Bobby, +who was wagging his tail and sniffing at the military boots with +his ever lively interest in soldiers. + +He looked up at the tossed coin indifferently, and when it fell +to the floor he let it lie. "Siller" has no meaning to a dog. +His love can be purchased with nothing less than his chosen +master's heart. The soldier sighed at Bobby's indifference. He +introduced himself as Sergeant Scott, of the Royal Engineers, +detailed from headquarters to direct the work in the +Castle crafts shops. Engineers rank high in pay and in +consideration, and it was no ordinary Jack of all trades who had +expert knowledge of so many skilled handicrafts. Mr. Traill's +respect and liking for the man increased with the passing +moments. + +As the sergeant departed he warned Mr. Traill, laughingly, that +he meant to kidnap Bobby the very first chance he got. The Castle +pet had died, and Bobby was altogether too good a dog to be +wasted on a moldy auld kirkyard and thrown on a dust-cart when he +came to die. + +Mr. Traill resented the imputation. "He'll no' be thrown on a +dust-cart!" + +The door was shut on the mocking retort "Hoo do ye ken he +wullna?" + +And there was food for gloomy reflection. The landlord could not +know, in truth, what Bobby's ultimate fate might be. But little +over nine years of age, he should live only five or six years +longer at most. Of his friends, Mr. Brown was ill and aging, and +might have to give place to a younger man. He himself was in his +prime, but he could not be certain of living longer than this +hardy little dog. For the first time he realized the truth of Dr. +Lee's saying that everybody's dog was nobody's dog. The tenement +children held Bobby in a sort of community affection. He was the +special pet of the Heriot laddies, but a class was sent into the +world every year and was scattered far. Not one of all the +hundreds of bairns who had known and loved this little dog could +give him any real care or protection. + +For the rest, Bobby had remained almost unknown. Many of the +congregations of old and new Greyfriars had never seen or heard +of him. When strangers were about he seemed to prefer lying in +his retreat under the fallen tomb. His Sunday-afternoon naps he +usually took in the lodge kitchen. And so, it might very well +happen that his old age would be friendless, that he would come +to some forlorn end, and be carried away on the dustman's cart. +It might, indeed, be better for him to end his days in love and +honor in the Castle. But to this solution of the problem Mr. +Traill himself was not reconciled. + +Sensing some shifting of the winds in the man's soul, Bobby +trotted over to lick his hand. Then he sat up on the hearth and +lolled his tongue, reminding the good landlord that he had one +cheerful friend to bear him company on the blaw-weary day. It was +thus they sat, companionably, when a Burgh policeman who was well +known to Mr. Traill came in to dry himself by the fire. Gloomy +thoughts were dispelled at once by the instinct of hospitality. + +"You're fair wet, man. Pull a chair to the hearth. And you have a +bit smut on your nose, Davie." + +"It's frae the railway engine. Edinburgh was a reekie toon eneugh +afore the engines cam' in an' belched smuts in ilka body's +faces." The policeman was disgusted and discouraged by three days +of wet clothing, and he would have to go out into the rain again +before he got dry. Nothing occurred to him to talk about but +grievances. + +"Did ye ken the Laird Provost, Maister Chambers, is intendin' to +knock a lang hole aboon the tap o' the Coogate wynds? It wull +mak' a braid street ye can leuk doon frae yer doorway here. The +gude auld days gangin' doon in a muckle dust!" + +"Ay, the sun will peep into foul places it hasn't seen sin' Queen +Mary's day. And, Davie, it would be more according to the gude +auld customs you're so fond of to call Mr. William Chambers +'Glenormiston' for his bit country place." + +"He's no' a laird." + +"Nae; but he'll be a laird the next time the Queen shows her +bonny face north o' the Tweed. Tak' 'a cup o' kindness' with me, +man. Hot tay will tak' the cauld out of vour disposeetion." Mr. +Traill pulled a bell-cord and Ailie, unused as yet to bells, put +her startled little face in at the door to the scullery. At sight +of the policeman she looked more than ever like a scared rabbit, +and her hands shook when she set the tray down before him. A +tenement child grew up in an atmosphere of hostility to uniformed +authority, which seldom appeared except to interfere with what +were considered personal affairs. + +The tea mollified the dour man, but there was one more rumbling. +"I'm no' denyin' the Provost's gude-hearted. Ance he got up a +hame for gaen-aboot dogs, an' he had naethin' to mak' by that. +But he canna keep 'is spoon oot o' ilka body's porridge. He's +fair daft to tear doon the wa's that cut St. Giles up into fower, +snod, white kirks, an' mak' it the ane muckle kirk it was in auld +Papist days. There are folk that say, gin he doesna leuk oot, +anither kale wifie wull be throwin' a bit stool at 'is meddlin' +heid." + +"Eh, nae doubt. There's aye a plentifu' supply o' fules in the +warld." + +Seeing his good friend so well entertained, and needing his +society no longer, Bobby got up, wagged his tail in farewell, and +started toward the door. Mr. Traill summoned the little maid and +spoke to her kindly: "Give Bobby a bone, lassie, and then open +the door for him." + +In carrying out these instructions Ailie gave the policeman as +wide leeway as possible and kept a wary eye upon him. The +officer's duties were chiefly up on High Street. He seldom +crossed the bridge, and it happened that he had never seen Bobby +before. Just by way of making conversation he remarked, "I didna +ken ye had a dog, John." + +Ailie stopped stock still, the cups on the tray she was taking +out tinkling from her agitation. It was thus policemen spoke at +private doors in the dark tenements: "I didna ken ye had the +smallpox." But Mr. Traill seemed in no way alarmed. He answered +with easy indulgence "That's no' surprising. There's mony a thing +you dinna ken, Davie." + +The landlord forgot the matter at once, but Ailie did not, for +she saw the officer flush darkly and, having no answer ready, go +out in silence. In truth, the good-humored sarcasm rankled in the +policeman's breast. An hour later he suddenly came to a +standstill below the clock tower of the Tron kirk on High Street, +and he chuckled. + +"Eh, John Traill. Ye're unco' weel furnished i' the heid, but +there's ane or twa things ye dinna ken yer ainsel'." + +Entirely taken up with his brilliant idea, he lost no time in +putting it to work. He dodged among the standing cabs and around +the buttresses of St. Giles that projected into the thoroughfare. +In the mid-century there was a police office in the middle of the +front of the historic old cathedral that had then fallen to its +lowest ebb of fortune. There the officer reported a matter that +was strictly within the line of his duty. + +Very early the next morning he was standing before the door of +Mr. Traill's place, in the fitful sunshine of clearing skies, +when the landlord appeared to begin the business of the day. + +"Are ye Maister John Traill?" + +"Havers, Davie! What ails you, man? You know my name as weel as +you know your ain." + +"It's juist a formality o' the law to mak' ye admit yer identity. +Here's a bit paper for ye." He thrust an official-looking +document into Mr. Traill's hand and took himself away across the +bridge, fair satisfied with his conduct of an affair of subtlety. + +It required five minutes for Mr. Traill to take in the import of +the legal form. Then a wrathful explosion vented itself on the +unruly key that persisted in dodging the keyhole. But once within +he read the paper again, put it away thoughtfully in an inner +pocket, and outwardly subsided to his ordinary aspect. He +despatched the business of the day with unusual attention to +details and courtesy to guests, and when, in mid afternoon, the +place was empty, he followed Bobby to the kirkyard and inquired +at the lodge if he could see Mr. Brown. + +"He isna so ill, noo, Maister Traill, but I wadna advise ye to +hae muckle to say to 'im." Mistress Jeanie wore the arch look of +the wifie who is somewhat amused by a convalescent husband's ill +humors. "The pains grupped 'im sair, an' noo that he's easier +he'd see us a' hanged wi' pleesure. Is it onything by the +ordinar'?" + +"Nae. It's just a sma' matter I can attend to my ainsel'. Do you +think he could be out the morn?" + +"No' afore a week or twa, an' syne, gin the bonny sun comes oot +to bide a wee." + +Mr. Traill left the kirkyard and went out to George Square to +call upon the minister of Greyfriars auld kirk. The errand was +unfruitful, and he was back in ten minutes, to spend the evening +alone, without even the consolation of Bobby's company, for the +little dog was unhappy outside the kirkyard after sunset. And he +took an unsettling thought to bed with him. + +Here was a pretty kettle of fish, indeed, for a respected member +of a kirk and middle-aged business man to fry in. Through the +legal verbiage Mr. Traill made out that he was summoned to appear +before whatever magistrate happened to be sitting on the morrow +in the Burgh court, to answer to the charge of owning, or +harboring, one dog, upon which he had not paid the license tax of +seven shillings. + +For all its absurdity it was no laughing matter. The municipal +court of Edinburgh was of far greater dignity than the ordinary +justice court of the United Kingdom and of America. The civic +bench was occupied, in turn, by no less a personage than the Lord +Provost as chief, and by five other magistrates elected by the +Burgh council from among its own membership. Men of standing in +business, legal and University circles, considered it an honor +and a duty to bring their knowledge and responsibility to bear on +the pettiest police cases. + +It was morning before Mr. Traill had the glimmer of an idea to +take with him on this unlucky business. An hour before the +opening of court he crossed the bridge into High Street, which +was then as picturesquely Gothic and decaying and overpopulated +as the Cowgate, but high-set, wind-swept and sun-searched, all +the way up the sloping mile from Holyrood Palace to the Castle. +The ridge fell away steeply, through rifts of wynds and closes, +to the Cowgate ravine on the one hand, and to Princes Street's +parked valley on the other. Mr. Traill turned into the narrow +descent of Warriston Close. Little more than a crevice in the +precipice of tall, old buildings, on it fronted a business house +whose firm name was known wherever the English language was read: +"W. and R. Chambers, Publishers." + +From top to bottom the place was gas-lit, even on a sunny spring +morning, and it hummed and clattered with printing-presses. No +one was in the little anteroom to the editorial offices beside a +young clerk, but at sight of a red-headed, freckle-faced Heriot +laddie of Bobby's puppyhood days Mr. Traill's spirits rose. + +"A gude day to you, Sandy McGregor; and whaur's your auld twin +conspirator, Geordie Ross?" + +"He's a student in the Medical College, Mr. Traill. He went by +this meenit to the Botanical Garden for herbs my grandmither has +aye known without books." Sandy grinned in appreciation of this +foolishness, but he added, with Scotch shrewdness, "It's gude for +the book-prenting beesiness." + +"It is so," the landlord agreed, heartily. "But you must no' be +forgetting that the Chambers brothers war book readers and +sellers before they war publishers. You are weel set up in life, +laddie, and Heriot's has pulled the warst of the burrs from your +tongue. I'm wanting to see Glenormiston." + +"Mr. William Chambers is no' in. Mr. Robert is aye in, but he's +no' liking to be fashed about sma' things." + +"I'll no' trouble him. It's the Lord Provost I'm wanting, on +ofeecial beesiness." He requested Sandy to ask Glenormiston, if +he came in, to come over to the Burgh court and spier for Mr. +Traill. + +"It's no' his day to sit as magistrate, and he's no' like to go +unless it's a fair sairious matter." + +"Ay, it is, laddie. It's a matter of life and death, I'm +thinking!" He smiled grimly, as it entered his head that he might +be driven to do violence to that meddling policeman. The yellow +gas-light gave his face such a sardonic aspect that Sandy turned +pale. + +"Wha's death, man?" + +Mr. Traill kept his own counsel, but at the door he turned: +"You'll no' be remembering the bittie terrier that lived in the +kirkyard?" + +The light of boyhood days broke in Sandy's grin. "Ay, I'll no' be +forgetting the sonsie tyke. He was a deil of a dog to tak' on a +holiday. Is he still faithfu' to his dead master?" + +"He is that; and for his faithfu'ness he's like to be dead +himsel'. The police are takin' up masterless dogs an' putting +them out o' the way. I'll mak' a gude fight for Bobby in the +Burgh court." + +"I'll fight with you, man." The spirit of the McGregor clan, +though much diluted and subdued by town living, brought Sandy +down from a three-legged stool. He called another clerk to take +his place, and made off to find the Lord Provost, powerful friend +of hameless dogs. Mr. Traill hastened down to the Royal Exchange, +below St. Giles and on the northern side of High Street. + +Less than a century old, this municipal building was modern among +ancient rookeries. To High Street it presented a classic front of +four stories, recessed by flanking wings, around three sides of a +quadrangular courtyard. Near the entrance there was a row of +barber shops and coffee-rooms. Any one having business with the +city offices went through a corridor between these places of +small trade to the stairway court behind them. On the floor +above, one had to inquire of some uniformed attendant in which of +the oaken, ante-roomed halls the Burgh court was sitting. And by +the time one got there all the pride of civic history of the +ancient royal Burgh, as set forth in portrait and statue and a +museum of antiquities, was apt to take the lime out of the +backbone of a man less courageous than Mr. Traill. What a car of +juggernaut to roll over one, small, masterless terrier! + +But presently the landlord found himself on his feet, and not so +ill at ease. A Scottish court, high or low, civil or criminal, +had a flavor all its own. Law points were threshed over with +gusto, but counsel, client, and witness gained many a point by +ready wit, and there was no lack of dry humor from the bench. +About the Burgh court, for all its stately setting, there was +little formality. The magistrate of the day sat behind a tall +desk, with a clerk of record at his elbow, and the officer gave +his testimony briefly: Edinburgh being quite overrun by stray and +unlicensed dogs, orders had recently been given the Burgh police +to report such animals. In Mr. Traill's place he had seen a small +terrier that appeared to be at home there; and, indeed, on the +dog's going out, Mr. Traill had called a servant lassie to fetch +a bone, and to open the door for him. He noticed that the animal +wore no collar, and felt it his duty to report the matter. + +By the time Mr. Traill was called to answer to the charge a +number of curious idlers had gathered on the back benches. He +admitted his name and address, but denied that he either owned or +was harboring a dog. The magistrate fixed a cold eye upon him, +and asked if he meant to contradict the testimony of the officer. + +"Nae, your Honor; and he might have seen the same thing ony +week-day of the past eight and a half years. But the bit terrier +is no' my ain dog." Suddenly, the memory of the stormy night, the +sick old man and the pathos of his renunciation of the only +beating heart in the world that loved him--"Bobby isna ma ain +dog!" swept over the remorseful landlord. He was filled with a +fierce championship of the wee Highlander, whose loyalty to that +dead master had brought him to this strait. + +To the magistrate Mr. Traill's tossed-up head had the effect of +defiance, and brought a sharp rebuke. "Don't split hairs, Mr. +Traill. You are wasting the time of the court. You admit feeding +the dog. Who is his master and where does he sleep?" + +"His master is in his grave in auld Greyfriars kirkyard, and the +dog has aye slept there on the mound." + +The magistrate leaned over his desk. "Man, no dog could sleep in +the open for one winter in this climate. Are you fond of +romancing, Mr. Traill?" + +"No' so overfond, your Honor. The dog is of the subarctic breed +of Skye terriers, the kind with a thick under-jacket of fleece, +and a weather thatch that turns rain like a crofter's cottage +roof." + +"There should be witnesses to such an extraordinary story. The +dog could not have lived in this strictly guarded churchyard +without the consent of those in authority." The magistrate was +plainly annoyed and skeptical, and Mr. Traill felt the sting of +it. + +"Ay, the caretaker has been his gude friend, but Mr. Brown is ill +of rheumatism, and can no' come out. Nae doubt, if necessary, his +deposeetion could be tak'n. Permission for the bit dog to live in +the kirkyard was given by the meenister of Greyfriars auld kirk, +but Doctor Lee is in failing health and has gone to the south of +France. The tenement children and the Heriot laddies have aye +made a pet of Bobby, but they would no' be competent witnesses." + +"You should have counsel. There are some legal difficulties +here." + +"I'm no' needing a lawyer. The law in sic a matter can no' be so +complicated, and I have a tongue in my ain head that has aye +served me, your Honor." The magistrate smiled, and the spectators +moved to the nearer benches to enjoy this racy man. The room +began to fill by that kind of telepathy +that causes crowds to gather around the human drama. One man +stood, unnoticed, in the doorway. Mr. Traill went on, quietly: +"If the court permits me to do so, I shall be glad to pay for +Bobby's license, but I'm thinking that carries responsibeelity +for the bit dog." + +"You are quite right, Mr. Traill. You would have to assume +responsibility. Masterless dogs have become a serious nuisance in +the city." + +"I could no' tak' responsibeelity. The dog is no' with me more +than a couple of hours out of the twenty-four. I understand that +most of his time is spent in the kirkyard, in weel-behaving, +usefu' ways, but I could no' be sure." + +"But why have you fed him for so many years? Was his master a +friend?" + +"Nae, just a customer, your Honor; a simple auld shepherd who ate +his market-day dinner in my place. He aye had the bit dog with +him, and I was the last man to see the auld body before he went +awa' to his meeserable death in a Cowgate wynd. Bobby came to me, +near starved, to be fed, two days after his master's burial. I +was tak'n by the wee Highlander's leal spirit." + +And that was all the landlord would say. He had no mind to wear +his heart upon his sleeve for this idle crowd to gape at. + +After a moment the magistrate spoke warmly: "It appears, then, +that the payment of the license could not be accepted from you. +Your humanity is commendable, Mr. Traill, but technically you are +in fault. The minimum fine should be imposed and remitted." + +At this utterly unlooked-for conclusion Mr. Traill seemed to +gather his lean shoulders together for a spring, and his gray +eyes narrowed to blades. + +"With due respect to your Honor, I must tak' an appeal against +sic a deceesion, to the Lord Provost and a' the magistrates, and +then to the Court of Sessions." + +"You would get scant attention, Mr. Traill. The higher judiciary +have more important business than reviewing dog cases. You would +be laughed out of court." + +The dry tone stung him to instant retort. "And in gude company +I'd be. Fifty years syne Lord Erskine was laughed down in +Parliament for proposing to give legal protection to dumb +animals. But we're getting a bit more ceevilized." + +"Tut, tut, Mr. Traill, you are making far too much of a small +matter." + +"It's no' a sma' matter to be entered in the records of the Burgh +court as a petty law-breaker. And if I continued to feed the dog +I would be in contempt of court." + +The magistrate was beginning to feel badgered. "The fine carries +the interdiction with it, Mr. Traill, if you are asking for +information." + +"It was no' for information, but just to mak' plain my ain line +of conduct. I'm no' intending to abandon the dog. I am commended +here for my humanity, but the bit dog I must let starve for a +technicality." Instantly, as the magistrate half rose from the +bench, the landlord saw that he had gone too far, and put the +court on the defensive. In an easy, conversational tone, as if +unaware of the point he had scored, he asked if he might address +his accuser on a personal matter. "We knew each other weel as +laddies. Davie, when you're in my neeborhood again on a wet day, +come in and dry yoursel' by my fire and tak' another cup o' +kindness for auld lang syne. You'll be all the better man for a +lesson in morals the bit dog can give you: no' to bite the hand +that feeds you." + +The policeman turned purple. A ripple of merriment ran through +the room. The magistrate put his hand up to his mouth, and the +clerk began to drop pens. Before silence was restored a messenger +laddie ran up with a note for the bench. The magistrate read it +with a look of relief, and nodded to the man who had been +listening from the doorway, but who disappeared at once. + +"The case is ordered continued. The defendant will be given time +to secure witnesses, and notified when to appear. The next case +is called." + +Somewhat dazed by this sudden turn, and annoyed by the delayed +settlement of the affair, Mr. Traill hastened from the +court-room. As he gained the street he was overtaken by the +messenger with a second note. And there was a still more +surprising turn that sent the landlord off up swarming High +Street, across the bridge, and on to his snug little place of +business, with the face and the heart of a school-boy. When +Bobby, draggled by three days of wet weather, came in for his +dinner, Mr. Traill scanned him critically and in some perplexity. +At the end of the day's work, as Ailie was dropping her quaint +curtsy and giving her adored employer a shy "gude nicht," he had +a sudden thought that made him call her back. + +"Did you ever give a bit dog a washing, lassie?" + +"Ye mean Bobby, Maister Traill? Nae, I didna." Her eyes sparkled. +"But Tammy's hauded 'im for Maister Brown, an' he says it's +sonsie to gie the bonny wee a washin'." + +"Weel, Mr. Brown is fair ill, and there has been foul weather. +Bobby's getting to look like a poor 'gaen aboot' dog. Have him at +the kirkyard gate at a quarter to eight o'clock the morn looking +like a leddy's pet and I'll dance a Highland fling at your +wedding." + +"Are ye gangin' to tak' Bobby on a picnic, Maister Traill?" + +He answered with a mock solemnity and a twinkle in his eyes that +mystified the little maid. "Nae, lassie; I'm going to tak' him +to a meeting in a braw kirk." + + + +IX + +When Ailie wanted to get up unusually early in the morning she +made use of Tammy for an alarm-clock. A crippled laddie who must +"mak' 'is leevin' wi' 'is heid" can waste no moment of daylight, +and in the ancient buildings around Greyfriars the maximum of +daylight was to be had only by those able and willing to climb to +the gables. Tammy, having to live on the lowest, darkest floor of +all, used the kirkyard for a study, by special indulgence of the +caretaker, whenever the weather permitted. + +From a window he dropped his books and his crutches over the +wall. Then, by clasping his arms around a broken shaft that +blocked the casement, he swung himself out, and scrambled down +into an enclosed vault yard. There he kept hidden Mistress +Jeanie's milking stool for a seat; and a table-tomb served as +well, for the laddie to do his sums upon, as it had for the +tearful signing of the Covenant more than two hundred years +before. Bobby, as host, greeted Tammy with cordial friskings and +waggings, saw him settled to his tasks, and then went briskly +about his own interrupted business of searching out marauders. +Many a spring dawn the quiet little boy and the swift and silent +little dog had the shadowy garden all to themselves, and it was +for them the song-thrushes and skylarks gave their choicest +concerts. + +On that mid-April morning, when the rising sun gilded the Castle +turrets and flashed back from the many beautiful windows of +Heriot's Hospital, Tammy bundled his books under the table-tomb +of Mistress Jean Grant, went over to the rear of the Guildhall at +the top of the Row, and threw a handful of gravel up to Ailie's +window. Because of a grandmither, Ailie, too, dwelt on a low +level. Her eager little face, lighted by sleep-dazzled blue eyes, +popped out with the surprising suddenness of the manikins in a +Punch-and-Judy show. + +"In juist ane meenit, Tammy," she whispered, "no' to wauken the +grandmither." It was in so very short a minute that the lassie +climbed out onto the classic pediment of a tomb and dropped into +the kirkyard that her toilet was uncompleted. Tammy buttoned her +washed-out cotton gown at the back, and she sat on a slab to lace +her shoes. If the fun of giving Bobby his bath was to be enjoyed +to the full there must be no unnecessary delay. This +consideration led Tammy to observe: + +"Ye're no' needin' to comb yer hair, Ailie. It leuks bonny +eneugh." + +In truth, Ailie was one of those fortunate lassies whose crinkly, +gold-brown mop really looked best when in some disorder; and of +that advantage the little maid was well aware. + +"I ken a' that, Tammy. I aye gie it a lick or twa wi' a comb the +nicht afore. Ca' the wee doggie." + +Bobby fully understood that he was wanted for some serious +purpose, but it was a fresh morning of dew and he, apparently, +was in the highest of spirits. So he gave Ailie a chase over the +sparkling grass and under the showery shrubbery. When he dropped +at last on Auld Jock's grave Tammy captured him. The little dog +could always be caught there, in a caressable state of exhaustion +or meditation, for, sooner or later, he returned to the spot from +every bit of work or play. No one would have known it for a place +of burial at all. Mr. Brown knew it only by the rose bush at its +head and by Bobby's haunting it, for the mound had sunk to the +general level of the terrace on which it lay, and spreading +crocuses poked their purple and gold noses through the crisp +spring turf. But for the wee, guardian dog the man who lay +beneath had long lost what little identity he had ever possessed. + +Now, as the three lay there, the lassie as flushed and damp as +some water-nymph, Bobby panting and submitting to a petting, +Tammy took the little dog's muzzle between his thin hands, parted +the veil, and looked into the soft brown eyes. + +"Leak, Ailie, Bobby's wantin' somethin', an' is juist haudin' +'imsel'." + +It was true. For all his gaiety in play and his energy at work +Bobby's eyes had ever a patient, wistful look, not unlike the +crippled laddie's. Ah, who can say that it did not require as +much courage and gallant bravado on the part of that small, +bereft creature to enable him to live at all, as it did for Tammy +to face his handicapped life and "no' to remember 'is bad legs"? + +In the bath on the rear steps of the lodge Bobby swam and +splashed, and scattered foam with his excited tail. He would not +stand still to be groomed, but wriggled and twisted and leaped +upon the children, putting his shaggy wet paws roguishly in their +faces. But he stood there at last, after the jolliest romp, in +which the old kirkyard rang with laughter, and oh! so bonny, in +his rippling coat of dark silver. No sooner was he released than +he dashed around the kirk and back again, bringing his latest +bone in his mouth. To his scratching on the stone sill, for he +had been taught not to scratch on the panel, the door was opened +by snod and smiling Mistress Jeanie, who invited these slum +bairns into such a cozy, spotless kitchen as was not possible in +the tenements. Mr. Brown sat by the hearth, bundled in blue and +white blankets of wonderfully blocked country weaving. Bobby put +his fore paws on the caretaker's chair and laid his precious bone +in the man's lap. + +"Eh, ye takin' bit rascal; loup!" Bobby jumped to the patted +knee, turned around and around on the soft bed that invited him, +licked the beaming old face to show his sympathy and +friendliness, and jumped down again. Mr. Brown sighed because +Bobby steadily but amiably refused to be anybody's lap-dog. The +caretaker turned to the admiring children. + +"Ilka morn he fetches 'is bit bane up, thinkin' it a braw giftie +for an ill man. An' syne he veesits me twa times i' the day, +juist bidin' a wee on the hearthstane, lollin' 'is tongue an' +waggin' 'is tail, cheerfu'-like. Bobby has mair gude sense in 'is +heid than mony a man wha comes ben the hoose, wi' a lang face, to +let me ken I'm gangin' to dee. Gin I keep snug an' canny it +wullna gang to the heart. Jeanie, woman, fetch ma fife, wull ye?" + +Then there were strange doings in the kirkyard lodge. James Brown +"wasna gangin' to dee" before his time came, at any rate. In his +youth, as under-gardener on a Highland estate, he had learned to +play the piccolo flute, and lately he had revived the pastoral +art of piping just because it went so well with Bobby's delighted +legs. To the sonsie air of "Bonnie Dundee" Bobby hopped and +stepped and louped, and he turned about on his hind feet, his +shagged fore paws drooped on his breast as daintily as the hands +in the portraits of early Victorian ladies. The fire burned +cheerily in the polished grate, and winked on every shining thing +in the room; primroses bloomed in the diamond-paned casement; the +skylark fluttered up and sang in its cage; the fife whistled as +gaily as a blackbird, and the little dog danced with a comic +clumsiness that made them all double up with laughter. The place +was so full of brightness, and of kind and merry hearts, that +there was room for nothing else. Not one of them dreamed that the +shadow of the law was even then over this useful and lovable +little dog's head. + +A glance at the wag-at-the-wa' clock reminded Ailie that Mr. +Traill might be waiting for Bobby. + +Curious about the mystery, the children took the little dog down +to the gate, happily. They were sobered, however, when Mr. Traill +appeared, looking very grand in his Sabbath clothes. He inspected +Bobby all over with anxious scrutiny, and gave each of the bairns +a threepenny-bit, but he had no blithe greeting for them. Much +preoccupied, he went off at once, with the animated little muff +of a dog at his heels. In truth, Mr. Traill was thinking about +how he might best plead Bobby's cause with the Lord Provost. The +note that was handed him, on leaving the Burgh court the day +before, had read: + +"Meet me at the Regent's Tomb in St. Giles at eight o'clock in +the morning, and bring the wee Highlander with you.-- +Glenormiston." + +On the first reading the landlord's spirits had risen, out of all +proportion to the cause, owing to his previous depression. But, +after all, the appointment had no official character, since the +Regent's Tomb in St. Giles had long been a sort of town pump for +the retailing of gossip and for the transaction of trifling +affairs of all sorts. The fate of this little dog was a small +matter, indeed, and so it might be thought fitting, by the powers +that be, that it should be decided at the Regent's Tomb rather +than in the Burgh court. + +To the children, who watched from the kirkyard gate until Mr. +Traill and Bobby were hidden by the buildings on the bridge, it +was no' canny. The busy landlord lived mostly in shirt-sleeves +and big white apron, ready to lend a hand in the rush hours, and +he never was known to put on his black coat and tall hat on a +week-day, except to attend a funeral. However, there was the +day's work to be done. Tammy had a lesson still to get, and +returned to the kirkyard, and Ailie ran up to the dining-rooms. +On the step she collided with a red headed, freckle-faced young +man who asked for Mr. Traill. + +"He isna here." The shy lassie was made almost speechless by +recognizing, in this neat, well-spoken clerk, an old Heriot boy, +once as poor as herself. + +"Do you wark for him, lassie? Weel, do you know how he cam' out +in the Burgh court about the bit dog?" + +There was only one "bit dog" in the world to Ailie. Wild eyed +with alarm at mention of the Burgh court, in connection with that +beloved little pet, she stammered: "It's--it's--no' a coort he +gaed to. Maister Traill's tak'n Bobby awa' to a braw kirk." + +Sandy nodded his head. "Ay, that would be the police office in +St. Giles. Lassie, tell Mr. Traill I sent the Lord Provost, and +if he's needing a witness to ca' on Sandy McGregor. " + +Ailie stared after him with frightened eyes. Into her mind +flashed that ominous remark of the policeman two days before: "I +didna ken ye had a dog, John?" She overtook Sandy in front of the +sheriff's court on the bridge. + +"What--what hae the police to do wi' bittie dogs?" + +"If a dog has nae master to pay for his license the police can +tak' him up and put him out o' the way." + +"Hoo muckle siller are they wantin'?" + +"Seven shullings. Gude day, lassie; I'm fair late." Sandy was not +really alarmed about Bobby since the resourceful Mr. Traill had +taken up his cause, and he had no idea of the panic of grief and +fright that overwhelmed this forlorn child. + +Seven shullings! It was an enormous sum to the tenement bairn, +whose half-blind grandmither knitted and knitted in a dimly +lighted room, and hoarded halfpennies and farthings to save +herself from pauper burial. Seven shullings would pay a month's +rent for any one of the crowded rooms in which a family lived. +Ailie herself, an untrained lassie who scarcely knew the use of a +toasting-fork, was overpaid by generous Mr. Traill at sixpence +a day. Seven shullings to permit one little dog to live! It did +not occur to Ailie that this was a sum Mr. Traill could easily +pay. No' onybody at all had seven shullings all at once! But, oh! +everybody had pennies and halfpennies and farthings, and she and +Tammy together had a sixpence. + +Darting back to the gate, to catch the laddie before he could be +off to school, she ran straight into the policeman, who stood +with his hand on the wicket. He eyed her sharply. + +"Eh, lassie, I was gangin' to spier at the lodge, gin there's a +bit dog leevin' i' the kirkyaird." + +"I--I--dinna ken." Her voice was unmanageable. She had left to +her only the tenement-bred instinct of concealment of any and all +facts from an officer of the law. + +"Ye dinna ken! Maister Traill said i' the coort a' the bairns +aboot kenned the dog. Was he leein'?" + +The question stung her into angry admission. "He wadna be leein'. +But--but--the bittie--dog--isna here noo." + +"Syne, whaur is he? Oot wi' it!" + +"I--dinna--ken!" She cowered in abject fear against the wall. She +could not know that this officer was suffering a bad attack of +shame for his shabby part in the affair. Satisfied that the +little dog really did live in the kirkyard, he turned back to the +bridge. When Tammy came out presently he found Ailie crumpled up +in a limp little heap in the gateway alcove. In a moment the tale +of Bobby's peril was told. The laddie dropped his books and his +crutches on the pavement, and his head in his helpless arms, and +cried. He had small faith in Ailie's suddenly conceived plan to +collect the seven shullings among the dwellers in the tenements. + +"Do ye ken hoo muckle siller seven shullin's wad be? It's +auchty-fower pennies, a hundred an' saxty-aucht ha'pennies an'-- +an'--I canna think hoo mony farthings." + +"I dinna care a bittie bit. There's mair folk aroond the +kirkyaird than there's farthings i' twa, three times seven +shullin's. An' maist ilka body kens Bobby. An' we hae a saxpence +atween us noo." + +"Maister Brown wad gie us anither saxpence gin he had ane," Tammy +suggested, wistfully. + +"Nae, he's fair ill. Gin he doesna keep canny it wull gang to 'is +heart. He'd be aff 'is heid, aboot Bobby. Oh, Tammy, Maister +Traill gaed to gie 'im up! He was wearin' a' 'is gude claes an' a +lang face, to gang to Bobby's buryin'." + +This dreadful thought spurred them to instant action. By way of +mutual encouragement they went together through the sculptured +doorway, that bore the arms of the ancient guild of the +candlemakers on the lintel, and into the carting office on the +front. + +"Do ye ken Greyfriars Bobby?" Tammy asked, timidly, of the man in +charge. + +He glowered at the laddie and shook his head. "Havers, mannie; +there's no' onybody named for an auld buryin' groond." + +The children fled. There was no use at all in wasting time on +folk who did not know Bobby, for it would take too long to +explain him. But, alas, they soon discovered that "maist ilka +body" did not know the little dog, as they had so confidently +supposed. He was sure to be known only in the rooms at the rear +that overlooked the kirkyard, and, as one went upward, his +identity became less and less distinct. He was such a wee, wee, +canny terrier, and so many of the windows had their views +constantly shut out by washings. Around the inner courts, where +unkempt women brought every sort of work out to the light on the +galleries and mended worthless rags, gossiped, and nursed their +babies on the stairs, Bobby had sometimes been heard of, but +almost never seen. Children often knew him where their elders did +not. By the time Ailie and Tammy had worked swiftly down to the +bottom of the Row other children began to follow them, moved by +the peril of the little dog to sympathy and eager sacrifice. + +"Bide a wee, Ailie!" cried one, running to overtake the lassie. +"Here's a penny. I was gangin' for milk for the porridge. We can +do wi'oot the day." + +And there was the money for the broth bone, and the farthing that +would have filled the gude-man's evening pipe, and the ha'penny +for the grandmither's tea. It was the world-over story of the +poor helping the poor. The progress of Ailie and Tammy through +the tenements was like that of the piper through Hamelin. The +children gathered and gathered, and followed at their heels, +until a curiously quiet mob of threescore or more crouched in the +court of the old hall of the Knights of St. John, in the +Grassmarket, to count the many copper coins in Tammy's woolen +bonnet. + +"Five shullin's, ninepence, an' a ha'penny," Tammy announced. And +then, after calculation on his fingers, "It'll tak' a shullin' +an' twapenny ha'penny mair." + +There was a gasping breath of bitter disappointment, and one wee +laddie wailed for lost Bobby. At that Ailie dashed the tears from +her own eyes and sprang up, spurred to desperate effort. She +would storm the all but hopeless attic chambers. Up the twisting +turnpike stairs on the outer wall she ran, to where the swallows +wheeled about the cornices, and she could hear the iron cross of +the Knights Templars creak above the gable. Then, all the way +along a dark passage, at one door after another, she knocked, and +cried, + +"Do ye ken Greyfriars Bobby?" + +At some of the doors there was no answer. At others students +stared out at the bairn, not in the least comprehending this wild +crying. Tears of anger and despair flooded the little maid's blue +eyes when she beat on the last door of the row with her doubled +fist. + +"Do ye ken Greyfriars Bobby? The police are gangin' to mak' 'im +be deid--" As the door was flung open she broke into stormy +weeping. + +"Hey, lassie. I know the dog. What fashes you?" + +There stood a tall student, a wet towel about his head, and, +behind him, the rafters of the dormer-lighted closet were as +thickly hung with bunches of dried herbs from the Botanical +Garden as any auld witch wife's kitchen. + +"Oh, are ye kennin' 'im? Isna he bonny an' sonsie? Gie me the +shullin' an' twapenny ha' penny we're needin', so the police +wullna put 'im awa'." + +"Losh! It's a license you're wanting? I wish I had as many +shullings as I've had gude times with Bobby, and naething to pay +for his braw company." + +For this was Geordie Ross, going through the Medical College with +the help of Heriot's fund that, large as it was, was never quite +enough for all the poor and ambitious youths of Edinburgh. And +so, although provided for in all necessary ways, his pockets were +nearly as empty as of old. He could spare a sixpence if he made +his dinner on a potato and a smoked herring. That he was very +willing to do, once he had heard the tale, and he went with Ailie +to the lodgings of other students, and demanded their siller with +no explanation at all. + +"Give the lassie what you can spare, man, or I'll have to give +you a licking," was his gay and convincing argument, from door to +door, until the needed amount was made up. Ailie fled recklessly +down the stairs, and cried triumphantly to the upward-looking, +silent crowd that had grown and grown around Tammy, like some +host of children crusaders. + +While Ailie and Tammy were collecting the price of his ransom +Bobby was exploring the intricately cut-up interior of old St. +Giles, sniffing at the rifts in flimsily plastered partitions +that the Lord Provost pointed out to Mr. Traill. Rats were in +those crumbling walls. If there had been a hole big enough to +admit him, the plucky little dog would have gone in after them. +Forbidden to enlarge one, Bobby could only poke his indignant +muzzle into apertures, and brace himself as for a fray. And, at +the very smell of him, there were such squeakings and scamperings +in hidden runways as to be almost beyond a terrier's endurance. +The Lord Provost watched him with an approving eye. + +"When these partitions are tak'n down Bobby would be vera useful +in ridding our noble old cathedral of vermin. But that will not +be in this wee Highlander's day nor, I fear, in mine." About the +speech of this Peebles man, who had risen from poverty to +distinction, learning, wealth, and many varieties of usefulness, +there was still an engaging burr. And his manner was so simple +that he put the humblest at his ease. + +There had been no formality about the meeting at all. +Glenormiston was standing in a rear doorway of the cathedral near +the Regent's Tomb, looking out into the sunny square of +Parliament Close, when Mr. Traill and Bobby appeared. Near +seventy, at that time, a backward sweep of white hair and a +downward flow of square-cut, white beard framed a boldly featured +face and left a generous mouth uncovered. + +"Gude morning, Mr. Traill. So that is the famous dog that has +stood sentinel for more than eight years. He should be tak'n up +to the Castle and shown to young soldiers who grumble at +twenty-four hours' guard duty. How do you do, sir!" The great +man, whom the Queen knighted later, and whom the University he +was too poor to attend as a lad honored with a degree, stooped +from the Regent's Tomb and shook Bobby's lifted paw with grave +courtesy. Then, leaving the little dog to entertain himself, he +turned easily to his own most absorbing interest of the moment. + +"Do you happen to care for Edinburgh antiquities, Mr. Traill? +Reformation piety made sad havoc of art everywhere. Man, come +here!" + +Down into the lime dust the Lord Provost and the landlord went, +in their good black clothes, for a glimpse of a bit of +sculpturing on a tomb that had been walled in to make a passage. +A loose brick removed, behind and above it, the sun flashed +through fragments of emerald and ruby glass of a saint's robe, in +a bricked up window. Such buried and forgotten treasure, +Glenormiston explained, filled the entire south transept. In the +High Kirk, that then filled the eastern end of the cathedral, +they went up a cheap wooden stairway, to the pew-filled gallery +that was built into the old choir, and sat down. Mr. Traill's +eyes sparkled. Glenormiston was a man after his own heart, and +they were getting along famously; but, oh! it began to seem more +and more unlikely that a Lord Provost, who was concerned about +such braw things as the restoration of the old cathedral and +letting the sun into the ancient tenements, should be much +interested in a small, masterless dog. + +"Man, auld John Knox will turn over in his bit grave in +Parliament Close if you put a 'kist o' whustles' in St. Giles." +Mr. Traill laughed. + +"I admit I might have stopped short of the organ but for the +courageous example of Doctor Lee in Greyfriars. It was from him +that I had a quite extravagant account of this wee, leal +Highlander a few years ago. I have aye meant to go to see him; +but I'm a busy man and the matter passed out of mind. Mr. Traill, +I'm your sadly needed witness: I heard you from the doorway of +the court-room, and I sent up a note confirming your story and +asking, as a courtesy, that the case be turned over to me for +some exceptional disposal. Would you mind telling another man the +tale that so moved Doctor Lee? I've aye had a fondness for the +human document." + +So there, above the pulpit of the High Kirk of St. Giles, the +tale was told again, so strangely did this little dog's life come +to be linked with the highest and lowest, the proudest and +humblest in the Scottish capital. Now, at mention of Auld Jock, +Bobby put his shagged paws up inquiringly on the edge of the pew, +so that Mr. Traill lifted him. He lay down flat between the two +men, with his nose on his paws, and his little tousled head under +the Lord Provost's hand. + +Auld Jock lived again in that recital. Glenormiston, coming from +the country of the Ettrick shepherd, knew such lonely figures, +and the pathos of old age and waning powers that drove them in to +the poor quarters of towns. There was pictured the stormy night +and the simple old man who sought food and shelter, with the +devoted little dog that "wasna 'is ain." Sick unto death he was, +and full of ignorant prejudices and fears that needed wise +handling. And there was the well-meaning landlord's blunder, +humbly confessed, and the obscure and tragic result of it, in a +foul and swarming rookery "juist aff the Coogate." + +"Man, it was Bobby that told me of his master's condition. He +begged me to help Auld Jock, and what did I do but let my fule +tongue wag about doctors. I nae more than turned my back than the +auld body was awa' to his meeserable death. It has aye eased my +conscience a bit to feed the dog." + +"That's not the only reason why you have fed him." There was a +twinkle in the Lord Provost's eye, and Mr. Traill blushed. + +"Weel, I'll admit to you that I'm fair fulish about Bobby. Man, +I've courted that sma' terrier for eight and a half years. He's +as polite and friendly as the deil, but he'll have naething to do +with me or with onybody. I wonder the intelligent bit doesn't +bite me for the ill turn I did his master." + +Then there was the story of Bobby's devotion to Auld Jock's +memory to be told--the days when he faced starvation rather than +desert that grave, the days when he lay cramped under the fallen +table-tomb, and his repeated, dramatic escapes from the Pentland +farm. His never broken silence in the kirkyard was only to be +explained by the unforgotten orders of his dead master. His +intelligent effort to make himself useful to the caretaker had +won indulgence. His ready obedience, good temper, high spirits +and friendliness had made him the special pet of the tenement +children and the Heriot laddies. At the very last Mr. Traill +repeated the talk he had had with the non-commissioned officer +from the Castle, and confessed his own fear of some forlorn end +for Bobby. It was true he was nobody's dog; and he was fascinated +by soldiers and military music, and so, perhaps-- + +"I'll no' be reconciled to parting--Eh, man, that's what Auld +Jock himsel' said when he was telling me that the bit dog must be +returned to the sheep-farm: 'It wull be sair partin'.'" Tears +stood in the unashamed landlord's eyes. + +Glenormiston was pulling Bobby's silkily fringed ears +thoughtfully. Through all this talk about his dead master the +little dog had not stirred. For the second time that day Bobby's +veil was pushed back, first by the most unfortunate laddie in the +decaying tenements about Greyfriars, and now by the Lord Provost +of the ancient royal burgh and capital of Scotland. And both made +the same discovery. Deep-brown pools of love, young Bobby's eyes +had dwelt upon Auld Jock. Pools of sad memories they were now, +looking out wistfully and patiently upon a masterless world. + +"Are you thinking he would be reconciled to be anywhere away from +that grave? Look, man!" + +"Lord forgive me! I aye thought the wee doggie happy enough." + +After a moment the two men went down the gallery stairs in +silence. Bobby dropped from the bench and fell into a subdued +trot at their heels. As they left the cathedral by the door that +led into High Street Glenormiston remarked, with a mysterious +smile: + +"I'm thinking Edinburgh can do better by wee Bobby than to banish +him to the Castle. But wait a bit, man. A kirk is not the place +for settling a small dog's affairs." + +The Lord Provost led the way westward along the cathedral's +front. On High Street, St. Giles had three doorways. The middle +door then gave admittance to the police office; the western +opened into the Little Kirk, popularly known as Haddo's Hole. It +was into this bare, whitewashed chapel that Glenormiston turned +to get some restoration drawings he had left on the pulpit. He +was explaining them to Mr. Traill when he was interrupted by a +murmur and a shuffle, as of many voices and feet, and an odd +tap-tap-tapping in the vestibule. + +Of all the doorways on the north and south fronts of St. Giles +the one to the Little Kirk was nearest the end of George IV +Bridge. Confused by the vast size and imposing architecture of +the old cathedral, these slum children, in search of the police +office, went no farther, but ventured timidly into the open +vestibule of Haddo's Hole. Any doubts they might have had about +this being the right place were soon dispelled. Bobby heard them +and darted out to investigate. And suddenly they were all inside, +overwrought Ailie on the floor, clasping the little dog and +crying hysterically. + +"Bobby's no' deid! Bobby's no' deid! Oh, Maister Traill, ye +wullna hae to gie 'im up to the police! Tammy's got the seven +shullin's in 'is bonnet!" + +And there was small Tammy, crutches dropped and pouring that +offering of love and mercy out at the foot of an altar in old St. +Giles. Such an astonishing pile of copper coins it was, that it +looked to the landlord like the loot of some shopkeeper's change +drawer. + +"Eh, puir laddie, whaur did ye get it a' noo?" he asked, gravely. + +Tammy was very self-possessed and proud. "The bairnies aroond the +kirkyaird gie'd it to pay the police no' to mak' Bobby be deid." + +Mr. Traill flashed a glance at Glenormiston. It was a look at +once of triumph and of humility over the Herculean deed of these +disinherited children. But the Lord Provost was gazing at that +crowd of pale bairns, products of the Old Town's ancient slums, +and feeling, in his own person, the civic shame of it. And he was +thinking, thinking, that he must hasten that other project +nearest his heart, of knocking holes in solid rows of foul +cliffs, in the Cowgate, on High Street, and around Greyfriars. It +was an incredible thing that such a flower of affection should +have bloomed so sweetly in such sunless cells. And it was a new +gospel, at that time, that a dog or a horse or a bird might have +its mission in this world of making people kinder and happier. + +They were all down on the floor, in the space before the altar, +unwashed, uncombed, unconscious of the dirty rags that scarce +covered them; quite happy and self-forgetful in the charming +friskings and friendly lollings of the well-fed, carefully +groomed, beautiful little dog. Ailie, still so excited that she +forgot to be shy, put Bobby through his pretty tricks. He rolled +over and over, he jumped, he danced to Tammy's whistling of +"Bonnie Dundee," he walked on his hind legs and louped at a +bonnet, he begged, he lifted his short shagged paw and shook +hands. Then he sniffed at the heap of coins, looked up +inquiringly at Mr. Traill, and, concluding that here was some +property to be guarded, stood by the "siller" as stanchly as a +soldier. It was just pure pleasure to watch him. + +Very suddenly the Lord Provost changed his mind. A sacred kirk +was the very best place of all to settle this little dog's +affairs. The offering of these children could not be refused. It +should lie there, below the altar, and be consecrated to some +other blessed work; and he would do now and here what he had +meant to do elsewhere and in a quite different way. He lifted +Bobby to the pulpit so that all might see him, and he spoke so +that all might understand. + +"Are ye kennin' what it is to gie the freedom o' the toon to +grand folk?" + +"It's--it's when the bonny Queen comes an' ye gie her the keys to +the burgh gates that are no' here ony mair." Tammy, being in +Heriot's, was a laddie of learning. + +"Weel done, laddie. Lang syne there was a wa' aroond Edinburgh +wi' gates in it." Oh yes, all these bairnies knew that, and the +fragment of it that was still to be seen outside and above the +Grassmarket, with its sentry tower by the old west port. "Gin a +fey king or ither grand veesitor cam', the Laird Provost an' the +maigestrates gied 'im the keys so he could gang in an' oot at 'is +pleesure. The wa's are a' doon noo, an' the gates no' here ony +mair, but we hae the keys, an' we mak' a show o' gien' 'em to +veesitors wha are vera grand or wise or gude, or juist usefu' by +the ordinar'." + +"Maister Gladstane," said Tammy. + +"Ay, we honor the Queen's meenisters; an' Miss Nightingale, wha +nursed the soldiers i' the war; an' Leddy Burdett-Coutts, wha +gies a' her siller an' a' her heart to puir folk an' is aye kind +to horses and dogs an' singin' birdies; an' we gie the keys to +heroes o' the war wha are brave an' faithfu'. An' noo, there's a +wee bit beastie. He's weel-behavin', an' isna makin' a blatterin' +i' an auld kirkyaird. He aye minds what he's bidden to do. He's +cheerfu' an' busy, keepin' the proolin' pussies an' vermin frae +the sma' birdies i' the nests. He mak's friends o' ilka body, an' +he's faithfu'. For a deid man he lo'ed he's gaun hungry; an' he +hasna forgotten 'im or left 'im by 'is lane at nicht for mair +years than some o' ye are auld. An' gin ye find 'im lyin' canny, +an' ye tak' a keek into 'is bonny brown een, ye can see he's aye +greetin'. An' so, ye didna ken why, but ye a' lo'ed the lanely +wee--" + +"Bobby!" It was an excited breath of a word from the wide-eyed +bairns. + +"Bobby! Havers! A bittie dog wadna ken what to do wi' keys." + +But Glenormiston was smiling, and these sharp witted slum bairns +exchanged knowing glances. "Whaur's that sma'--?" He dived into +this pocket and that, making a great pretense of searching, until +he found a narrow band of new leather, with holes in one end and +a stout buckle on the other, and riveted fast in the middle of it +was a shining brass plate. Tammy read the inscription aloud: + + GREYFRIARS BOBBY + + FROM THE LORD PROVOST + + 1867 Licensed + +The wonderful collar was passed from hand to hand in awed +silence. The children stared and stared at this white-haired and +bearded man, who "wasna grand ava," but who talked to them as +simply and kindly as a grandfaither. He went right on talking to +them in his homely way to put them at their ease, telling them +that nobody at all, not even the bonny Queen, could be more than +kind and well-behaving and faithful to duty. Wee Bobby was all +that, and so "Gin dizzens an' dizzens o' bairns war kennin' 'im, +an' wad fetch seven shullin's i' their ha'pennies to a kirk, they +could buy the richt for the braw doggie to be leevin', the care +o' them a', i' the auld kirkyaird o' Greyfriars. An' he maun hae +the collar so the police wull ken 'im an' no' ever tak' 'im up +for a puir, gaen-aboot dog." + +The children quite understood the responsibility they assumed, +and their eyes shone with pride at the feeling that, if more +fortunate friends failed, this little creature must never be +allowed to go hungry. And when he came to die--oh, in a very, +very few years, for they must remember that "a doggie isna as +lang-leevin' as folk"--they must not forget that Bobby would not +be permitted to be buried in the kirkyard. + +"We'll gie 'im a grand buryin'," said Tammy. "We'll find a green +brae by a babblin' burn aneath a snawy hawthorn, whaur the +throstle sings an' the blackbird whustles." For the crippled +laddie had never forgotten Mr. Traill's description of a proper +picnic, and that must, indeed, be a wee dog's heaven. + +"Ay, that wull do fair weel." The collar had come back to him by +this time, and the Lord Provost buckled it securely about Bobby's +neck. + + + +X. + +The music of bagpipe, fife and drum brought them all out of +Haddo's Hole into High Street. It was the hour of the morning +drill, and the soldiers were marching out of the Castle. From the +front of St. Giles, that jutted into the steep thoroughfare, they +could look up to where the street widened to the esplanade on +Castle Hill. Rank after rank of scarlet coats, swinging kilts and +sporrans, and plumed bonnets appeared. The sun flashed back from +rifle barrels and bayonets and from countless bright buttons. + +A number of the older laddies ran up the climbing street. Mr. +Traill called Bobby back and, with a last grip of Glenormiston's +hand, set off across the bridge. To the landlord the world seemed +a brave place to be living in, the fabric of earth and sky and +human society to be woven of kindness. Having urgent business of +buying supplies in the markets at Broughton and Lauriston, Mr. +Traill put Bobby inside the kirkyard gate and hurried away to get +into his everyday clothing. After dinner, or tea, he promised +himself the pleasure of an hour at the lodge, to tell Mr. Brown +the wonderful news, and to show him Bobby's braw collar. + +When, finally, he was left alone, Bobby trotted around the kirk, +to assure himself that Auld Jock's grave was unmolested. There he +turned on his back, squirmed and rocked on the crocuses, and +tugged at the unaccustomed collar. His inverted struggles, low +growlings and furry contortions set the wrens to scolding and the +redbreasts to making nervous inquiries. Much nestbuilding, +tuneful courtship, and masculine blustering was going on, and +there was little police duty for Bobby. After a time he sat up on +the table-tomb, pensively. With Mr. Brown confined, to the lodge, +and Mistress Jeanie in close attendance upon him there, the +kirkyard was a lonely place for a sociable little dog; and a +soft, spring day given over to brooding beside a beloved grave, +was quite too heart-breaking a thing to contemplate. Just for +cheerful occupation Bobby had another tussle with the collar. He +pulled it so far under his thatch that no one could have guessed +that he had a collar on at all, when he suddenly righted himself +and scampered away to the gate. + +The music grew louder and came nearer. The first of the +route-marching that the Castle garrison practiced on occasional, +bright spring mornings was always a delightful surprise to the +small boys and dogs of Edinburgh. Usually the soldiers went down +High Street and out to Portobello on the sea. But a regiment of +tough and wiry Highlanders often took, by preference, the +mounting road to the Pentlands to get a whiff of heather in their +nostrils. + +On they came, band playing, colors flying, feet moving in unison +with a march, across the viaduct bridge into Greyfriars Place. +Bobby was up on the wicket, his small, energetic body quivering +with excitement from his muzzle to his tail. If Mr. Traill had +been there he would surely have caught the infection, thrown care +to this sweet April breeze for once, and taken the wee terrier +for a run on the Pentland braes. The temptation was going by when +a preoccupied lady, with a sheaf of Easter lilies on her sable +arm, opened the wicket. Her ample Victorian skirts swept right +over the little dog, and when he emerged there was the gate +slightly ajar. Widening the aperture with nose and paws, Bobby +was off, skirmishing at large on the rear and flanks of the +troops, down the Burghmuir. + +It may never have happened, in the years since Auld Jock died and +the farmer of Cauldbrae gave up trying to keep him on the hills, +that Bobby, had gone so far back on this once familiar road; and +he may not have recognized it at first, for the highways around +Edinburgh were everywhere much alike. This one alone began to +climb again. Up, up it toiled, for two weary miles, to the +hilltop toll-bar of Fairmilehead, and there the sounds and smells +that made it different from other roads began. + +Five miles out of the city the halt was called, and the soldiers +flung themselves on the slope. Many experiences of route-marching +had taught Bobby that there was an interval of rest before the +return, so, with his nose to the ground, he started up the brae on +a pilgrimage to old shrines, just as in his puppyhood days, at Auld +Jock's heels, there was much shouting of men, barking of collies, +and bleating of sheep all the way up. Once he had to leave the road +until a driven flock had passed. Behind the sheep walked an old +laborer in hodden-gray, woolen bonnet, and shepherd's two-fold +plaid, with a lamb in the pouch of it. Bobby trembled at the +apparition, sniffed at the hob-nailed boots, and then, with drooped +head and tail, trotted on up the slope. + +Men and dogs were all out on the billowy pastures, and the +farm-house of Cauldbrae lay on the level terrace, seemingly +deserted and steeped in memories. A few moments before, a tall +lassie had come out to listen to the military music. A couple of +hundred feet below, the coats of the soldiers looked to her like +poppies scattered on the heather. At the top of the brae the wind +was blowing a cold gale, so the maidie went up again, and around to +a bit of tangled garden on the sheltered side of the house. The +"wee lassie Elsie" was still a bairn in short skirts and braids, +who lavished her soft heart, as yet, on briar bushes and daisies. + +Bobby made a tour of the sheepfold, the cowyard and byre, and he +lingered behind the byre, where Auld Jock had played with him on +Sabbath afternoons. He inspected the dairy, and the poultry-house +where hens were sitting on their nests. By and by he trotted around +the house and came upon the lassie, busily clearing winter rubbish +from her posie bed. A dog changes very little in appearance, but in +eight and a half years a child grows into a different person +altogether. Bobby barked politely to let this strange lassie know +that he was there. In the next instant he knew her, for she whirled +about and, in a kind of glad wonder, cried out: + +"Oh, Bobby! hae ye come hame? Mither, here's ma ain wee Bobby!" For +she had never given up the hope that this adored little pet would +some day return to her. + +"Havers, lassie, ye're aye seein' Bobby i' ilka Hielan' terrier, +an' there's mony o' them aboot." + +The gude-wife looked from an attic window in the steep gable, and +then hurried down. "Weel, noo, ye're richt, Elsie. He wad be comin' +wi' the regiment frae the Castle. Bittie doggies an' laddies are +fair daft aboot the soldiers. Ay, he's bonny, an' weel cared for, +by the ordinar'. I wonder gin he's still leevin' i' the grand auld +kirkyaird." + +Wary of her remembered endearments, Bobby kept a safe distance from +the maidie, but he sat up and lolled his tongue, quite willing to +pay her a friendly visit. From that she came to a wrong conclusion: +"Sin' he cam' o' his ain accord he's like to bide." Her eyes were +blue stars. + +"I wadna be coontin' on that, lassie. An' I wadna speck a door on +'im anither time. Grin he wanted to get oot he'd dig aneath a floor +o' stane. Leuk at that, noo! The bonny wee is greetin' for Auld +Jock." + +It was true, for, on entering the kitchen, Bobby went straight to +the bench in the corner and lay down flat under it. Elsie sat +beside him, just as she had done of old. Her eyes overflowed so in +sympathy that the mother was quite distracted. This would not do at +all. + +"Lassie, are ye no' rememberin' Bobby was fair fond o' moor-hens' +eggs fried wi' bits o' cheese? He wullna be gettin' thae things; +an' it wad be maist michty, noo, gin ye couldna win the bittie dog +awa' frae the reekie auld toon. Gang oot wi' 'im an' rin on the +brae an' bid 'im find the nests aneath the whins." + +In a moment they were out on the heather, and it seemed, indeed, as +if Bobby might be won. He frisked and barked at Elsie's heels, +chased rabbits and flushed the grouse; and when he ran into a +peat-darkened tarp, rimmed with moss, he had such a cold and +splashy swim as quite to give a little dog a distaste for warm, +soapy water in a claes tub. He shook and ran himself dry, and he +raced the laughing child until they both dropped panting on the +wind-rippled heath. Then he hunted on the ground under the gorse +for those nests that had a dozen or more eggs in them. He took just +one from each in his mouth, as Auld Jock had taught him to do. On +the kitchen hearth he ate the savory meal with much satisfaction +and polite waggings. But when the bugle sounded from below to form +ranks, he pricked his drop ears and started for the door. + +Before he knew what had happened he was inside the poultry-house. +In another instant he was digging frantically in the soft earth +under the door. When the lassie lay down across the crack he +stopped digging, in consternation. His sense of smell told him what +it was that shut out the strip of light; and a bairn's soft body is +not a proper object of attack for a little dog, no matter how +desperate the emergency. There was no time to be lost, for the +drums began to beat the march. Having to get out very quickly, +Bobby did a forbidden thing: swiftly and noisily he dashed around +the dark place, and there arose such wild squawkings and rushings +of wings as to bring the gude-wife out of the house in alarm. + +"Lassie, I canna hae the bittie dog in wi the broodin' chuckies!" + +She flung the door wide. Bobby shot through, and into Elsie's +outstretched arms. She held to him desperately, while he twisted +and struggled and strained away; and presently something shining +worked into view, through the disordered thatch about his neck. The +mother had come to the help of the child, and it was she who read +the inscription on the brazen plate aloud. + +"Preserve us a'! Lassie, he's been tak'n by the Laird Provost an' +gien the name o' the auld kirkyaird. He's an ower grand doggie. Ma +puir bairnie, dinna greet so sair!" For the little girl suddenly +released the wee Highlander and sobbed on her mother's shoulder. + +"He isna ma ain Bobby ony mair!" She "couldna thole" to watch him +as he tumbled down the brae. + +On the outward march, among the many dogs and laddies that had +followed the soldiers, Bobby escaped notice. But most of these had +gone adventuring in Swanston Dell, to return to the city by the +gorge of Leith Water. Now, traveling three miles to the soldiers' +one, scampering in wide circles over the fields, swimming burns, +scrambling under hedges, chasing whaups into piping cries, barking +and louping in pure exuberance of spirits, many eyes looked upon +him admiringly, and discontented mouths turned upward at the +corners. It is not the least of a little dog's missions in life to +communicate his own irresponsible gaiety to men. + +If the return had been over George IV Bridge Bobby would, no doubt, +have dropped behind at Mr. Traill's or at the kirkyard. But on the +Burghmuir the troops swung eastward until they rounded Arthur's +Seat and met the cavalry drilling before the barracks at Piershill. +Such pretty maneuvering of horse and foot took place below Holyrood +Palace as quite to enrapture a terrier. When the infantry marched +up the Canongate and High Street, the mounted men following and the +bands playing at full blast, the ancient thoroughfare was quickly +lined with cheering crowds, and faces looked down from ten tiers of +windows on a beautiful spectacle. Bobby did not know when the +bridge-approach was passed; and then, on Castle Hill, he was in an +unknown region. There the street widened to the great square of the +esplanade. The cavalry wheeled and dashed down High Street, but the +infantry marched on and up, over the sounding drawbridge that +spanned a dry moat of the Middle Ages, and through a deep-arched +gateway of masonry. + +The outer gate to the Castle was wider than the opening into many +an Edinburgh wynd; but Bobby stopped, uncertain as to where this +narrow roadway, that curved upward to the right, might lead. It was +not a dark fissure in a cliff of houses, but was bounded on the +outer side by a loopholed wall, and on the inner by a rocky ledge +of ascending levels. Wherever the shelf was of sufficient breadth a +battery of cannon was mounted, and such a flood of light fell from +above and flashed on polished steel and brass as to make the little +dog blink in bewilderment. And he whirled like a rotary sweeper in +the dusty road and yelped when the time-gun, in the half-moon +battery at the left of the gate and behind him, crashed and shook +the massive rock. + +He barked and barked, and dashed toward the insulting clamor. The +dauntless little dog and his spirited protest were so out of +proportion to the huge offense that the guard laughed, and other +soldiers ran out of the guard houses that flanked the gate. They +would have put the noisy terrier out at once, but Bobby was off, up +the curving roadway into the Castle. The music had ceased, and the +soldiers had disappeared over the rise. Through other dark arches +of masonry he ran. On the crest were two ways to choose--the +roadway on around and past the barracks, and a flight of steps cut +steeply in the living rock of the ledge, and leading up to the +King's Bastion. Bobby took the stairs at a few bounds. + +On the summit there was nothing at all beside a tiny, ancient stone +chapel with a Norman arched and sculptured doorway, and guarding it +an enormous burst cannon. But these ruins were the crown jewels of +the fortifications--their origins lost in legends--and so they were +cared for with peculiar reverence. Sergeant Scott of the Royal +Engineers himself, in fatigue-dress, was down on his knees before +St. Margaret's oratory, pulling from a crevice in the foundations a +knot of grass that was at its insidious work of time and change. As +Bobby dashed up to the citadel, still barking, the man jumped to +his feet. Then he slapped his thigh and laughed. Catching the +animated little bundle of protest the sergeant set him up for +inspection on the shattered breeching of Mons Meg. + +"Losh! The sma' dog cam' by 'is ainsel'! He could no' resist the +braw soldier laddies. 'He's a dog o' discreemination,' eh? Gin he +bides a wee, noo, it wull tak' the conceit oot o' the innkeeper." +He turned to gather up his tools, for the first dinner bugle was +blowing. Bobby knew by the gun that it was the dinner-hour, but he +had been fed at the farm and was not hungry. He might as well see a +bit more of life. He sat upon the cannon, not in the least +impressed by the honor, and lolled his tongue. + +In Edinburgh Castle there was nothing to alarm a little dog. A +dozen or more large buildings, in three or four groups, and +representing many periods of architecture, lay to the south and +west on the lowest terraces, and about them were generous parked +spaces. Into the largest of the buildings, a long, four-storied +barracks, the soldiers had vanished. And now, at the blowing of a +second bugle, half a hundred orderlies hurried down from a modern +cook-house, near the summit, with cans of soup and meat and +potatoes. The sergeant followed one of these into a room on the +front of the barracks. In their serge fatigue-tunics the sixteen +men about the long table looked as different from the gay soldiers +of the march as though so many scarlet and gold and bonneted +butterflies had turned back into sad-colored grubs. + +"Private McLean," he called to his batman who, for one-and-six a +week, cared for his belongings, "tak' chairge o' the dog, wull ye, +an' fetch 'im to the non-com mess when ye come to put ma kit i' +gude order." + +Before he could answer the bombardment of questions about Bobby the +door was opened again. The men dropped their knives and forks and +stood at attention. The officer of the day was making the rounds of +the forty or fifty such rooms in the barracks to inquire of the +soldiers if their dinner was satisfactory. He recognized at once +the attractive little Skye that had taken the eyes of the men on +the march, and asked about him. Sergeant Scott explained that Bobby +had no owner. He was living, by permission, in Greyfriars kirkyard, +guarding the grave of a long-dead, humble master, and was fed by +the landlord of the dining-rooms near the gate. If the little dog +took a fancy to garrison life, and the regiment to him, he thought +Mr. Traill, who had the best claim upon him, might consent to his +transfer to the Castle. After orders, at sunset, he would take +Bobby down to the restaurant himself. + +"I wish you good luck, Sergeant." The officer whistled, and Bobby +leaped upon him and off again, and indulged in many inconsequent +friskings. "Before you take him home fetch him over to the +officers' mess at dinner. It is guest night, and he is sure to +interest the gentlemen. A loyal little creature who has guarded his +dead master's grave for more than eight years deserves to have a +toast drunk to him by the officers of the Queen. But it's an +extraordinary story, and it doesn't sound altogether probable. +Jolly little beggar!" He patted Bobby cordially on the side, and +went out. + +The news of his advent and fragments of his story spread so quickly +through the barracks that mess after mess swarmed down from the +upper moors and out into the roadway to see Bobby. Private McLean +stood in the door, smoking a cutty pipe, and grinning with pride in +the merry little ruffian of a terrier, who met the friendly +advances of the soldiers more than half-way. Bobby's guardian would +have liked very well to have sat before the canteen in the sun and +gossiped about his small charge. However, in the sergeant's +sleeping-quarters above the mess-room, he had the little dog all to +himself, and Bobby had the liveliest interest in the boxes and +pots, brushes and sponges, and in the processes of polishing, +burnishing, and pipe-claying a soldier's boots and buttons and +belts. As he worked at his valeting, the man kept time with his +foot to rude ballads that he sang in such a hissing Celtic that +Bobby barked, scandalized by a dialect that had been music in the +ears of his ancestors. At that Private McLean danced a Highland +fling for him, and wee Bobby came near bursting with excitement. +When the sergeant came up to make a magnificent toilet for tea and +for the evening in town, the soldier expressed himself with +enthusiasm. + +"He iss a deffle of a dog, sir!" + +He was thought to be a "deffle of a dog" in the mess, where the +non-com officers had tea at small writing and card tables. They +talked and laughed very fast and loud, tried Bobby out on all the +pretty tricks he knew, and taught him to speak and to jump for a +lump of sugar balanced on his nose. They did not fondle him, and +this rough, masculine style of pampering and petting was very much +to his liking. It was a proud thing, too, for a little dog, to walk +out with the sergeant's shining boots and twirled walkingstick, and +be introduced into one strange place after another all around the +Castle. + +From tea to tattoo was playtime for the garrison. Many smartly +dressed soldiers, with passes earned by good behavior, went out to +find amusement in the city. Visitors, some of them tourists from +America, made the rounds under the guidance of old soldiers. The +sergeant followed such a group of sight-seers through a postern +behind the armory and out onto the cliff. There he lounged under a +fir-tree above St. Margaret's Well and smoked a dandified cigar, +while Bobby explored the promenade and scraped acquaintance with +the strangers. + +On the northern and southern sides the Castle wall rose from the +very edge of sheer precipices. Except for loopholes there were no +openings. But on the west there was a grassy terrace without the +wall, and below that the cliff fell away a little less steeply. The +declivity was clothed sparsely with hazel shrubs, thorns, whins and +thistles; and now and then a stunted fir or rowan tree or a group +of white-stemmed birks was stoutly rooted on a shelving ledge. Had +any one, the visitors asked, ever escaped down this wild crag? + +Yes, Queen Margaret's children, the guide answered. Their father +dead, in battle, their saintly mother dead in the sanctuary of her +tiny chapel, the enemy battering at the gate, soldiers had lowered +the royal lady's body in a basket, and got the orphaned children +down, in safety and away, in a fog, over Queen's Ferry to +Dunfirmline in the Kingdom of Fife. It was true that a false step +or a slip of the foot would have dashed them to pieces on the rocks +below. A gentleman of the party scouted the legend. Only a fox or +an Alpine chamois could make that perilous descent. + +With his head cocked alertly, Bobby had stood listening. Hearing +this vague talk of going down, he may have thought these people +meant to go, for he quietly dropped over the edge and went, head +over heels, ten feet down, and landed in a clump of hazel. A lady +screamed. Bobby righted himself and barked cheerful reassurance. +The sergeant sprang to his feet and ordered him to come back. + +Now, the sergeant was pleasant company, to be sure; but he was not +a person who had to be obeyed, so Bobby barked again, wagged his +crested tail, and dropped lower. The people who shuddered on the +brink could see that the little dog was going cautiously enough; +and presently he looked doubtfully over a sheer fall of twenty +feet, turned and scrambled back to the promenade. He was cried and +exclaimed over by the hysterical ladies, and scolded for a bittie +fule by the sergeant. To this Bobby returned ostentatious yawns of +boredom and nonchalant lollings, for it seemed a small matter to be +so fashed about. At that a gentleman remarked, testily, to hide his +own agitation, that dogs really had very little sense. The sergeant +ordered Bobby to precede him through the postern, and the little +dog complied amiably. + +All the afternoon bugles had been blowing. For each signal there +was a different note, and at each uniformed men appeared and +hurried to new points. Now, near sunset, there was the fanfare for +officers' orders for the next day. The sergeant put Bobby into +Queen Margaret's Chapel, bade him remain there, and went down to +the Palace Yard. The chapel on the summit was a convenient place +for picking the little dog up on his way to the officers' mess. +Then he meant to have his own supper cozily at Mr. Traill's and to +negotiate for Bobby. + +A dozen people would have crowded this ancient oratory, but, small +as it was, it was fitted with a chancel rail and a font for +baptizing the babies born in the Castle. Through the window above +the altar, where the sainted Queen was pictured in stained glass, +the sunlight streamed and laid another jeweled image on the stone +floor. Then the colors faded, until the holy place became an +austere cell. The sun had dropped behind the western Highlands. + +Bobby thought it quite time to go home. By day he often went far +afield, seeking distraction, but at sunset he yearned for the grave +in Greyfriars. The steps up which he had come lay in plain view +from the doorway of the chapel. Bobby dropped down the stairs, and +turned into the main roadway of the Castle. At the first arch that +spanned it a red-coated guard paced on the other side of a closed +gate. It would not be locked until tattoo, at nine thirty, but, +without a pass, no one could go in or out. Bobby sprang on the bars +and barked, as much as to say: "Come awa', man, I hae to get oot." + +The guard stopped, presented arms to this small, peremptory +terrier, and inquired facetiously if he had a pass. Bobby bristled +and yelped indignantly. The soldier grinned with amusement. +Sentinel duty was lonesome business, and any diversion a relief. In +a guardhouse asleep when Bobby came into the Castle, he had not +seen the little dog before and knew nothing about him. He might be +the property of one of the regiment ladies. Without orders he dared +not let Bobby out. A furious and futile onslaught on the gate he +met with a jocose feint of his bayonet. Tiring of the play, +presently, the soldier turned his back and paced to the end of his +beat. + +Bobby stopped barking in sheer astonishment. He gazed after the +stiff, retreating back, in frightened disbelief that he was not to +be let out. He attacked the stone under the barrier, but quickly +discovered its unyielding nature. Then he howled until the sentinel +came back, but when the man went by without looking at him he +uttered a whimpering cry and fled upward. The roadway was dark and +the dusk was gathering on the citadel when Bobby dashed across the +summit and down into the brightly lighted square of the Palace +Yard. + +The gas-lamps were being lighted on the bridge, and Mr. Traill was +getting into his streetcoat for his call on Mr. Brown when Tammy +put his head in at the door of the restaurant. The crippled laddie +had a warm, uplifted look, for Love had touched the sordid things +of life, and a miracle had bloomed for the tenement dwellers around +Greyfriars. + +"Maister Traill, Mrs. Brown says wull ye please send Bobby hame. +Her gude-mon's frettin' for 'im; an' syne, a' the folk aroond the +kirkyaird hae come to the gate to see the bittie dog's braw collar. +They wullna believe the Laird Provost gied it to 'im for a chairm +gin they dinna see it wi' their gin een." + +"Why, mannie, Bobby's no' here. He must be in the kirkyard." + +"Nae, he isna. I ca'ed, an' Ailie keeked in ilka place amang the +stanes." + +They stared at each other, the landlord serious, the laddie's lip +trembling. Mr. Traill had not returned from his numerous errands +about the city until the middle of the afternoon. He thought, of +course, that Bobby had been in for his dinner, as usual, and had +returned to the kirkyard. It appeared, now, that no one about the +diningrooms had seen the little dog. Everybody had thought that Mr. +Traill had taken Bobby with him. He hurried down to the gate to +find Mistress Jeanie at the wicket, and a crowd of tenement women +and children in the alcove and massed down Candlemakers Row. Alarm +spread like a contagion. In eight years and more Bobby had not been +outside the kirkyard gate after the sunset bugle. Mrs. Brown turned +pale. + +"Dinna say the bittie dog's lost, Maister Traill. It wad gang to +the heart o' ma gudemon." + +"Havers, woman, he's no' lost." Mr. Traill spoke stoutly enough. +"Just go up to the lodge and tell Mr. Brown I'm--weel, I'll just +attend to that sma' matter my ainsel'." With that he took a gay +face and a set-up air into the lodge to meet Mr. Brown's glowering +eye. + +"Whaur's the dog, man? I've been deaved aboot 'im a' the day, but I +haena seen the sonsie rascal nor the braw collar the Laird Provost +gied 'im. An' syne, wi' the folk comin' to spier for 'im an' +swarmin' ower the kirkyaird, ye'd think a warlock was aboot. Bobby +isna your dog--" + +"Haud yoursel', man. Bobby's a famous dog, with the freedom of +Edinburgh given to him, and naething will do but Glenormiston must +show him to a company o' grand folk at his bit country place. He's +sending in a cart by a groom, and I'm to tak' Bobby out and fetch +him hame after a braw dinner on gowd plate. The bairns meant weel, +but they could no' give Bobby a washing fit for a veesit with the +nobeelity. I had to tak' him to a barber for a shampoo." + +Mr. Brown roared with laughter. "Man, ye hae mair fule notions i' +yer heid. Ye'll hae to pay a shullin' or twa to a barber, an' +Bobby'll be sae set up there'll be nae leevin' wi' 'im. Sit ye doon +an' tell me aboot the collar, man." + +"I can no' stop now to wag my tongue. Here's the gude-wife. I'll +just help her get you awa' to your bed." + +It was dark when he returned to the gate, and the Castle wore its +luminous crown. The lights from the street lamps flickered on the +up-turned, anxious faces. Some of the children had begun to weep. +Women offered loud suggestions. There were surmises that Bobby had +been run over by a cart in the street, and angry conjectures that +he had been stolen. Then Ailie wailed: + +"Oh, Maister Traill, the bittie dog's deid!" + +"Havers, lassie! I'm ashamed o' ye for a fulish bairn. Bobby's no' +deid. Nae doot he's amang the stanes i' the kirkyaird. He's aye +scramblin' aboot for vermin an' pussies, an' may hae hurt himsel', +an' ye a' ken the bonny wee wadna cry oot i' the kirkyaird. Noo, +get to wark, an' dinna stand there greetin' an' waggin' yer +tongues. The mithers an' bairns maun juist gang hame an' stap their +havers, an' licht a' the candles an' cruisey lamps i' their hames, +an' set them i' the windows aboon the kirkyaird. Greyfriars is +murky by the ordinar', an' ye couldna find a coo there wi'oot the +lichts." + +The crowd suddenly melted away, so eager were they all to have a +hand in helping to find the community pet. Then Mr. Traill turned +to the boys. + +"Hoo mony o' ye laddies hae the bull's-eye lanterns?" + +Ah! not many in the old buildings around the kirkyard. These +japanned tin aids to dark adventures on the golf links on autumn +nights cost a sixpence and consumed candles. Geordie Ross and Sandy +McGregor, coming up arm in arm, knew of other students and clerks +who still had these cherished toys of boyhood. With these heroes in +the lead a score or more of laddies swarmed into the kirkyard. + +The tenements were lighted up as they had not been since nobles +held routs and balls there. Enough candles and oil were going up in +smoke to pay for wee Bobby's license all over again, and enough +love shone in pallid little faces that peered into the dusk to +light the darkest corner in the heart of the world. Rays from the +bull's-eyes were thrown into every nook and cranny. Very small +laddies insinuated themselves into the narrowest places. They +climbed upon high vaults and let themselves down in last year's +burdocks and tangled vines. It was all done in silence, only Mr. +Traill speaking at all. He went everywhere with the searchers, and +called: + +"Whaur are ye, Bobby? Come awa' oot, laddie!" + +But no gleaming ghost of a tousled dog was conjured by the voice of +affection. The tiniest scratching or lowest moaning could have been +heard, for the warm spring evening was very still, and there were, +as yet, few leaves to rustle. Sleepy birds complained at being +disturbed on their perches, and rodents could be heard scampering +along their runways. The entire kirkyard was explored, then the +interior of the two kirks. Mr. Traill went up to the lodge for the +keys, saying, optimistically, that a sexton might unwittingly have +locked Bobby in. Young men with lanterns went through the courts of +the tenements, around the Grassmarket, and under the arches of the +bridge. Laddies dropped from the wall and hunted over Heriot's +Hospital grounds to Lauriston market. Tammy, poignantly conscious +of being of no practical use, sat on Auld Jock's grave, firm in the +conviction that Bobby would return to that spot his ainsel' And +Ailie, being only a maid, whose portion it was to wait and weep, +lay across the window-sill, on the pediment of the tomb, a limp +little figure of woe. + +Mr. Traill's heart was full of misgiving. Nothing but death or +stone walls could keep that little creature from this beloved +grave. But, in thinking of stone walls, he never once thought of +the Castle. Away over to the east, in Broughton market, when the +garrison marched away and at Lauriston when they returned, Mr. +Traill did not know that the soldiers had been out of the city. +Busy in the lodge Mistress Jeanie had not seen them go by the +kirkyard, and no one else, except Mr. Brown, knew the fascination +that military uniforms, marching and music had for wee Bobby. A fog +began to drift in from the sea. Suddenly the grass was sheeted and +the tombs blurred. A curtain of gauze seemed to be hung before the +lighted tenements. The Castle head vanished, and the sounds of the +drum and bugle of the tattoo came down muffled, as if through +layers of wool. The lights of the bull's-eyes were ruddy discs that +cast no rays. Then these were smeared out to phosphorescent glows, +like the "spunkies" that everybody in Scotland knew came out to +dance in old kirkyards. + +It was no' canny. In the smother of the fog some of the little boys +were lost, and cried out. Mr. Traill got them up to the gate and +sent them home in bands, under the escort of the students. Mistress +Jeanie was out by the wicket. Mr. Brown was asleep, and she +"couldna thole it to sit there snug." When a fog-horn moaned from +the Firth she broke into sobbing. Mr. Traill comforted her as best +he could by telling her a dozen plans for the morning. By feeling +along the wall he got her to the lodge, and himself up to his cozy +dining-rooms. + +For the first time since Queen Mary the gate of the historic garden +of the Greyfriars was left on the latch. And it was so that a +little dog, coming home in the night might not be shut out. + + + +XI. + +It was more than two hours after he left Bobby in Queen Margaret's +Chapel that the sergeant turned into the officers' mess-room and +tried to get an orderly to take a message to the captain who had +noticed the little dog in the barracks. He wished to report that +Bobby could not be found, and to be excused to continue the search. + +He had to wait by the door while the toast to her Majesty was +proposed and the band in the screened gallery broke into "God Save +the Queen"; and when the music stopped the bandmaster came in for +the usual compliments. + +The evening was so warm and still, although it was only mid-April, +that a glass-paneled door, opening on the terrace, was set ajar for +air. In the confusion of movement and talk no one noticed a little +black mop of a muzzle that was poked through the aperture. From the +outer darkness Bobby looked in on the score or more of men +doubtfully, ready for instant disappearance on the slightest alarm. +Desperate was the emergency, forlorn the hope that had brought him +there. At every turn his efforts to escape from the Castle had been +baffled. He had been imprisoned by drummer boys and young recruits +in the gymnasium, detained in the hospital, captured in the +canteen. + +Bobby went through all his pretty tricks for the lads, and then +begged to be let go. Laughed at, romped with, dragged back, thrown +into the swimming-pool, expected to play and perform for them, he +rebelled at last. He scarred the door with his claws, and he howled +so dismally that, hearing an orderly corporal coming, they turned +him out in a rough haste that terrified him. In the old Banqueting +Hall on the Palace Yard, that was used as a hospital and +dispensary, he went through that travesty of joy again, in hope of +the reward. + +Sharply rebuked and put out of the hospital, at last, because of +his destructive clawing and mournful howling, Bobby dashed across +the Palace Yard and into a crowd of good-humored soldiers who +lounged in the canteen. Rising on his hind legs to beg for +attention and indulgence, he was taken unaware from behind by an +admiring soldier who wanted to romp with him. Quite desperate by +that time, he snapped at the hand of his captor and sprang away +into the first dark opening. Frightened by the man's cry of pain, +and by the calls and scuffling search for him without, he slunk to +the farthest corner of a dungeon of the Middle Ages, under the +Royal Lodging. + +When the hunt for him ceased, Bobby slipped out of hiding and made +his way around the sickle-shaped ledge of rock, and under the guns +of the half-moon battery, to the outer gate. Only a cat, a fox, or +a low, weasel-like dog could have done it. There were many details +that would have enabled the observant little creature to recognize +this barrier as the place where he had come in. Certainly he +attacked it with fury, and on the guards he lavished every art of +appeal that he possessed. But there he was bantered, and a feint +was made of shutting him up in the guard-house as a disorderly +person. With a heart-broken cry he escaped his tormentors, and made +his way back, under the guns, to the citadel. + +His confidence in the good intentions of men shaken, Bobby took to +furtive ways. Avoiding lighted buildings and voices, he sped from +shadow to shadow and explored the walls of solid masonry. Again and +again he returned to the postern behind the armory, but the small +back gate that gave to the cliff was not opened. Once he scrambled +up to a loophole in the fortifications and looked abroad at the +scattered lights of the city set in the void of night. But there, +indeed, his stout heart failed him. + +It was not long before Bobby discovered that he was being pursued. +A number of soldiers and drummer boys were out hunting for him, +contritely enough, when the situation was explained by the angry +sergeant. Wherever he went voices and footsteps followed. Had the +sergeant gone alone and called in familiar speech, "Come awa' oot, +Bobby!" he would probably have run to the man. But there were so +many calls--in English, in Celtic, and in various dialects of the +Lowlands--that the little dog dared not trust them. From place to +place he was driven by fear, and when the calling stopped and the +footsteps no longer followed, he lay for a time where he could +watch the postern. A moment after he gave up the vigil there the +little back gate was opened. + +Desperation led him to take another chance with men. Slipping into +the shadow of the old Governor's House, the headquarters of +commissioned officers, on the terrace above the barracks, he lay +near the open door to the mess-room, listening and watching. + +The pretty ceremony of toasting the bandmaster brought all the +company about the table again, and the polite pause in the +conversation, on his exit, gave an opportunity for the captain to +speak of Bobby before the sergeant could get his message delivered. + +"Gentlemen, your indulgence for a moment, to drink another toast to +a little dog that is said to have slept on his master's grave in +Greyfriars churchyard for more than eight years. Sergeant Scott, of +the Royal Engineers, vouches for the story and will present the +hero." + +The sergeant came forward then with the word that Bobby could not +be found. He was somewhere in the Castle, and had made persistent +and frantic efforts to get out. Prevented at every turn, and +forcibly held in various places by well-meaning but blundering +soldiers, he had been frightened into hiding. + +Bobby heard every word, and he must have understood that he himself +was under discussion. Alternately hopeful and apprehensive, he +scanned each face in the room that came within range of his vision, +until one arrested and drew him. Such faces, full of understanding, +love and compassion for dumb animals, are to be found among men, +women and children, in any company and in every corner of the +world. Now, with the dog's instinct for the dog-lover, Bobby made +his way about the room unnoticed, and set his short, shagged paws +up on this man's knee. + +"Bless my soul, gentlemen, here's the little dog now, and a +beautiful specimen of the drop-eared Skye he is. Why didn't you say +that the 'bittie' dog was of the Highland breed, Sergeant? You may +well believe any extravagant tale you may hear of the fidelity and +affection of the Skye terrier." + +And with that wee Bobby was set upon the polished table, his own +silver image glimmering among the reflections of candles and old +plate. He kept close under the hand of his protector, but waiting +for the moment favorable to his appeal. The company crowded around +with eager interest, while the man of expert knowledge and love of +dogs talked about Bobby. + +"You see he's a well-knit little rascal, long and low, hardy and +strong. His ancestors were bred for bolting foxes and wildcats +among the rocky headlands of the subarctic islands. The +intelligence, courage and devotion of dogs of this breed can +scarcely be overstated. There is some far away crossing here that +gives this one a greater beauty and grace and more engaging +manners, making him a 'sport' among rough farm dogs--but look at +the length and strength of the muzzle. He's as determined as the +deil. You would have to break his neck before you could break his +purpose. For love of his master he would starve, or he would leap +to his death without an instant's hesitation." + +All this time the man had been stroking Bobby's head and neck. Now, +feeling the collar under the thatch, he slipped it out and brought +the brass plate up to the light. + +"Propose your toast to Greyfriars Bobby, Captain. His story is +vouched for by no less a person than the Lord Provost. The 'bittie' +dog seems to have won a sort of canine Victoria Cross." + +The toast was drunk standing, and, a cheer given. The company +pressed close to examine the collar and to shake Bobby's lifted +paw. Then, thinking the moment had come, Bobby rose in the begging +attitude, prostrated himself before them, and uttered a pleading +cry. His new friend assured him that he would be taken home. + +"Bide a wee, Bobby. Before he goes I want you all to see his +beautiful eyes. In most breeds of dogs with the veil you will find +the hairs of the face discolored by tears, but the Skye terrier's +are not, and his eyes are living jewels, as sunny a brown as +cairngorms in pebble brooches, but soft and deep and with an almost +human intelligence." + +For the third time that day Bobby's veil was pushed back. One +shocked look by this lover of dogs, and it was dropped. "Get him +back to that grave, man, or he's like to die. His eyes are just two +cairngorms of grief." + +In the hush that fell upon the company the senior officer spoke +sharply: "Take him down at once, Sergeant. The whole affair is most +unfortunate, and you will please tender my apologies at the +churchyard and the restaurant, as well as your own, and I will see +the Lord Provost." + +The military salute was given to Bobby when he leaped from the +table at the sergeant's call: "Come awa', Bobby. I'll tak' ye to +Auld Jock i' the kirkyaird noo." + +He stepped out onto the lawn to wait for his pass. Bobby stood at +his feet, quivering with impatience to be off, but trusting in the +man's given word. The upper air was clear, and the sky studded with +stars. Twenty minutes before the May Light, that guided the ships +into the Firth, could be seen far out on the edge of the ocean, and +in every direction the lamps of the city seemed to fall away in a +shower of sparks, as from a burst meteor. But now, while the stars +above were as numerous and as brilliant as before, the lights below +had vanished. As the sergeant looked, the highest ones expired in +the rising fog. The Island Rock appeared to be sinking in a +waveless sea of milk. + +A startled exclamation from the sergeant brought other men out on +the terrace to see it. The senior officer withheld the pass in his +hand, and scouted the idea of the sergeant's going down into the +city. As the drum began to beat the tattoo and the bugle to rise on +a crescendo of lovely notes, soldiers swarmed toward the barracks. +Those who had been out in the town came running up the roadway into +the Castle, talking loudly of adventures they had had in the fog. +The sergeant looked down at anxious Bobby, who stood agitated and +straining as at a leash, and said that he preferred to go. + +"Impossible! A foolish risk, Sergeant, that I am unwilling you +should take. Edinburgh is too full of pitfalls for a man to be +going about on such a night. Our guests will sleep in the Castle, +and it will be safer for the little dog to remain until morning." + +Bobby did not quite understand this good English, but the excited +talk and the delay made him uneasy. He whimpered piteously. He lay +across the sergeant's feet, and through his boots the man could +feel the little creature's heart beat. Then he rose and uttered his +pleading cry. The sergeant stooped and patted the shaggy head +consolingly, and tried to explain matters. + +"Be a gude doggie noo. Dinna fash yersel' aboot what canna be +helped. I canna tak' ye to the kirkyaird the nicht." + +"I'll take charge of Bobby, Sergeant." The dog-loving guest ran out +hastily, but, with a wild cry of reproach and despair, Bobby was +gone. + +The group of soldiers who had been out on the cliff were standing +in the postern a moment to look down at the opaque flood that was +rising around the rock. They felt some flying thing sweep over +their feet and caught a silvery flash of it across the promenade. +The sergeant cried to them to stop the dog, and he and the guest +were out in time to see Bobby go over the precipice. + +For a time the little dog lay in a clump of hazel above the fog, +between two terrors. He could see the men and the lights moving +along the top of the cliff, and he could hear the calls. Some one +caught a glimpse of him, and the sergeant lay down on the edge of +the precipice and talked to him, saying every kind and foolish +thing he could think of to persuade Bobby to come back. Then a +drummer boy was tied to a rope and let down to the ledge to fetch +him up. But at that, without any sound at all, Bobby dropped out of +sight. + +Through the smother came the loud moaning of fog-horns in the +Firth. Although nothing could be seen, and sounds were muffled as +if the ears of the world were stuffed with wool, odors were held +captive and mingled in confusion. There was nothing to guide a +little dog's nose, everything to make him distrust his most +reliable sense. The smell of every plant on the crag was there; the +odors of leather, of paint, of wood, of iron, from the crafts shops +at the base. Smoke from chimneys in the valley was mixed with the +strong scent of horses, hay and grain from the street of King's +Stables. There was the smell of furry rodents, of nesting birds, of +gushing springs, of the earth itself, and something more ancient +still, as of burned-out fires in the Huge mass of trap-rock. + +Everything warned Bobby to lie still in safety until morning and +the world was restored to its normal aspects. But ah! in the +highest type of man and dog, self-sacrifice, and not +self-preservation, is the first law. A deserted grave cried to him +across the void, the anguish of protecting love urged him on to +take perilous chances. Falling upon a narrow shelf of rock, he had +bounded off and into a thicket of thorns. Bruised and shaken and +bewildered, he lay there for a time and tried to get his bearings. + +Bobby knew only that the way was downward. He put out a paw and +felt for the edge of the shelf. A thorn bush rooted below tickled +his nose. He dropped into that and scrambled out again. Loose earth +broke under his struggles and carried him swiftly down to a new +level. He slipped in the wet moss of a spring before he heard the +tinkle of the water, lost his foothold, and fell against a sharp +point of rock. The shadowy spire of a fir-tree looming in a parting +of the vapor for an instant, Bobby leaped to the ledge upon which +it was rooted. + +Foot by foot he went down, with no guidance at all. It is the +nature of such long, low, earth dogs to go by leaps and bounds like +foxes, calculating distances nicely when they can see, and tearing +across the roughest country with the speed of the wild animals they +hunt. And where the way is very steep they can scramble up or down +any declivity that is at a lesser angle than the perpendicular. +Head first they go downward, setting the fore paws forward, the +claws clutching around projections and in fissures, the weight hung +from the stout hindquarters, the body flattened on the earth. + +Thus Bobby crept down steep descents in safety, but his claws were +broken in crevices and his feet were torn and pierced by splinters +of rock and thorns. Once he went some distance into a cave and had +to back up and out again. And then a promising slope shelving under +suddenly, where he could not retreat, he leaped, turned over and +over in the air, and fell stunned. His heart filled with fear of +the unseen before him, the little dog lay for a long time in a +clump of whins. He may even have dozed and dreamed, to be awakened +with starts by his misery of longing, and once by the far-away +barking of a dog. It came up deadened, as if from fathoms below. He +stood up and listened, but the sound was not repeated. His +lacerated feet burned and throbbed; his bruised muscles had begun +to stiffen, so that every movement was a pain. + +In these lower levels there was more smoke, that smeared out and +thickened the mist. Suddenly a breath of air parted the fog as if +it were a torn curtain. Like a shot Bobby went down the crag, +leaping from rock to rock, scrambling under thorns and hazel +shrubs, dropping over precipitous ledges, until he looked down a +sheer fall on which not even a knot of grass could find a foothold. +He took the leap instantly, and his thick fleece saved him from +broken bones; but when he tried to get up again his body was racked +with pain and his hind legs refused to serve him. + +Turning swiftly, he snarled and bit, at them in angry disbelief +that his good little legs should play false with his stout heart. +Then he quite forgot his pain, for there was the sharp ring of iron +on an anvil and the dull glow of a forge fire, where a smith was +toiling in the early hours of the morning. A clever and resourceful +little dog, Bobby made shift to do without legs. Turning on his +side, he rolled down the last slope of Castle Rock. Crawling +between two buildings and dropping from the terrace on which they +stood, he fell into a little street at the west end and above the +Grassmarket. + +Here the odors were all of the stables. He knew the way, and that +it was still downward. The distance he had to go was a matter of a +quarter of a mile, or less, and the greater part of it was on the +level, through the sunken valley of the Grassmarket. But Bobby had +literally to drag himself now; and he had still to pull him self up +by his fore paws over the wet and greasy cobblestones of +Candlemakers Row. Had not the great leaves of the gate to the +kirkyard been left on the latch, he would have had to lie there in +the alcove, with his nose under the bars, until morning. But the +gate gave way to his push, and so, he dragged himself through it +and around the kirk, and stretched himself on Auld Jock's grave. + +It was the birds that found him there in the misty dawn. They were +used to seeing Bobby scampering about, for the little watchman was +awake and busy as early as the feathered dwellers in the kirkyard. +But, in what looked to be a wet and furry door-mat left out +overnight on the grass, they did not know him at all. The throstles +and skylarks were shy of it, thinking it might be alive. The wrens +fluffed themselves, scolded it, and told it to get up. The blue +titmice flew over it in a flock again and again, with much sweet +gossiping, but they did not venture nearer. A redbreast lighted on +the rose bush that marked Auld Jock's grave, cocked its head +knowingly, and warbled a little song, as much as to say: "If it's +alive that will wake it up." + +As Bobby did not stir, the robin fluttered down, studied him from +all sides, made polite inquiries that were not answered, and +concluded that it would be quite safe to take a silver hair for +nest lining. Then, startled by the animal warmth or by a faint, +breathing movement, it dropped the shining trophy and flew away in +a shrill panic. At that, all the birds set up such an excited +crying that they waked Tammy. + +From the rude loophole of a window that projected from the old +Cunzie Neuk, the crippled laddie could see only the shadowy tombs +and the long gray wall of the two kirks, through the sunny haze. +But he dropped his crutches over, and climbed out onto the vault. +Never before had Bobby failed to hear that well-known +tap-tap-tapping on the graveled path, nor failed to trot down to +meet it with friskings of welcome. But now he lay very still, even +when a pair of frail arms tried to lift his dead weight to a +heaving breast, and Tammy's cry of woe rang through the kirkyard. +In a moment Ailie and Mistress Jeanie were in the wet grass beside +them, half a hundred casements flew open, and the piping voices of +tenement bairns cried-down: + +"Did the bittie doggie come hame?" + +Oh yes, the bittie doggie had come hame, indeed, but down such +perilous heights as none of them dreamed; and now in what a woeful +plight! + +Some murmur of the excitement reached an open dormer of the Temple +tenements, where Geordie Ross had slept with one ear of the born +doctor open. Snatching up a case of first aids to the injured, he +ran down the twisting stairs to the Grassmarket, up to the gate, +and around the kirk, to find a huddled group of women and children +weeping over a limp little bundle of a senseless dog. He thrust a +bottle of hartshorn under the black muzzle, and with a start and a +moan Bobby came back to consciousness. + +"Lay him down flat and stop your havers," ordered the +business-like, embryo medicine man. "Bobby's no' dead. Laddie, +you're a braw soldier for holding your ain feelings, so just hold +the wee dog's head." Then, in the reassuring dialect: "Hoots, +Bobby, open the bit mou' noo, an' tak' the medicine like a mannie!" +Down the tiny red cavern of a throat Geordie poured a dose that +galvanized the small creature into life. + +"Noo, then, loup, ye bonny rascal!" + +Bobby did his best to jump at Geordie's bidding. He was so glad to +be at home and to see all these familiar faces of love that he +lifted himself on his fore paws, and his happy heart almost put the +power to loup into his hind legs. But when he tried to stand up he +cried out with the pains and sank down again, with an apologetic +and shamefaced look that was worthy of Auld Jock himself. Geordie +sobered on the instant. + +"Weel, now, he's been hurt. We'll just have to see what ails the +sonsie doggie." He ran his hand down the parting in the thatch to +discover if the spine had been injured. When he suddenly pinched +the ball of a hind toe Bobby promptly resented it by jerking his +head around and looking at him reproachfully. The bairns were +indignant, too, but Geordie grinned cheerfully and said: "He's no' +paralyzed, at ony rate." He turned as footsteps were heard coming +hastily around the kirk. + +"A gude morning to you, Mr. Traill. Bobby may have been run over by +a cart and got internal injuries, but I'm thinking it's just +sprains and bruises from a bad fall. He was in a state of collapse, +and his claws are as broken and his toes as torn as if he had come +down Castle Rock." + +This was such an extravagant surmise that even the anxious landlord +smiled. Then he said, drily: + +"You're a braw laddie, Geordie, and gudehearted, but you're no' a +doctor yet, and, with your leave, I'll have my ain medical man tak' +a look at Bobby." + +"Ay, I would," Geordie agreed, cordially. "It's worth four +shullings to have your mind at ease, man. I'll just go up to the +lodge and get a warm bath ready, to tak' the stiffness out of his +muscles, and brew a tea from an herb that wee wild creatures know +all about and aye hunt for when they're ailing." + +Geordie went away gaily, to take disorder and evil smells into +Mistress Jeanie's shining kitchen. + +No sooner had the medical student gone up to the lodge, and the +children had been persuaded to go home to watch the proceedings +anxiously from the amphitheater of the tenement windows, than the +kirkyard gate was slammed back noisily by a man in a hurry. It was +the sergeant who, in the splendor of full uniform, dropped in the +wet grass beside Bobby. + +"Lush! The sma' dog got hame, an' is still leevin'. Noo, God forgie +me--" + +"Eh, man, what had you to do with Bobby's misadventure?" + +Mr. Traill fixed an accusing eye on the soldier, remembering +suddenly his laughing threat to kidnap Bobby. The story came out in +a flood of remorseful words, from Bobby's following of the troops +so gaily into the Castle to his desperate escape over the +precipice. + +"Noo," he said, humbly, "gin it wad be ony satisfaction to ye, I'll +gang up to the Castle an' put on fatigue dress, no' to disgrace the +unifarm o' her Maijesty, an' let ye tak' me oot on the Burghmuir +an' gie me a gude lickin'." + +Mr. Traill shrugged his shoulders. "Naething would satisfy me, man, +but to get behind you and kick you over the Firth into the Kingdom +of Fife." + +He turned an angry back on the sergeant and helped Geordie lift +Bobby onto Mrs. Brown's braided hearth-rug and carry the improvised +litter up to the lodge. In the kitchen the little dog was lowered +into a hot bath, dried, and rubbed with liniments under his fleece. +After his lacerated feet had been cleaned and dressed with healing +ointments and tied up, Bobby was wrapped in Mistress Jeanie's best +flannel petticoat and laid on the hearth-rug, a very comfortable +wee dog, who enjoyed his breakfast of broth and porridge. + +Mr. Brown, hearing the commotion and perishing of curiosity, +demanded that some one should come and help him out of bed. As no +attention was paid to him he managed to get up himself and to +hobble out to the kitchen just as Mr. Traill's ain medical man came +in. Bobby's spine was examined again, the tail and toes nipped, the +heart tested, and all the soft parts of his body pressed and +punched, in spite of the little dog's vigorous objections to these +indignities. + +"Except for sprains and bruises the wee dog is all right. Came down +Castle Crag in the fog, did he? He's a clever and plucky little +chap, indeed, and deserving of a hero medal to hang on the Lord +Provost's collar. You've done very well, Mr. Ross. Just take as +good care of him for a week or so and he could do the gallant deed +again." + +Mr. Brown listened to the story of Bobby's adventures with a +mingled look of disgust at the foolishness of men, pride in Bobby's +prowess, and resentment at having been left out of the drama of the +night before. "It's maist michty, noo, Maister Traill, that ye wad +tak' the leeberty o' leein' to me," he complained. + +"It was a gude lee or a bad nicht for an ill man. Geordie will tell +you that a mind at ease is worth four shullings, and I'm charging +you naething. Eh, man, you're deeficult to please." As he went out +into the kirkyard Mr. Traill stopped to reflect on a strange thing: +"'You've done very well, Mr. Ross.' Weel, weel, how the laddies do +grow up! But I'm no' going to admit it to Geordie." + +Another thought, over which he chuckled, sent him off to find the +sergeant. The soldier was tramping gloomily about in the wet, to +the demoralization of his beautiful boots. + +"Man, since a stormy nicht eight years ago last November I've aye +been looking for a bigger weel meaning fule than my ain sel'. +You're the man, so if you'll just shak' hands we'll say nae more +about it." + +He did not explain this cryptic remark, but he went on to assure +the sorry soldier that Bobby had got no serious hurt and would soon +be as well as ever. They had turned toward the gate when a stranger +with a newspaper in his hand peered mildly around the kirk and +inquired "Do ye ken whaur's the sma' dog, man?" As Mr. Traill +continued to stare at him he explained, patiently: "It's Greyfriars +Bobby, the bittie terrier the Laird Provost gied the collar to. Hae +ye no' seen 'The Scotsman' the day?" + +The landlord had not. And there was the story, Bobby's, name +heading quite a quarter of a broad column of fine print, and +beginning with: "A very singular and interesting occurrence was +brought to light in the Burgh court by the hearing of a summons in +regard to a dog tax." Bobby was a famous dog, and Mr. Traill came +in for a goodly portion of reflected glory. He threw up his hands +in dismay. + +"It's all over the toon, Sergeant." Turning to the stranger, he +assured him that Bobby was not to be seen. "He hurt himsel' coming +down Castle Rock in the nicht, and is in the lodge with the +caretaker, wha's fair ill. Hoo do I ken?" testily. "Weel, man, I'm +Mr. Traill." + +He saw at once how unwise was that admission, for he had to shake +hands with the cordial stranger. And after dismissing him there was +another at the gate who insisted upon going up to the lodge to see +the little hero. Here was a state of things, indeed, that called +upon all the powers of the resourceful landlord. + +"All the folk in Edinburgh will be coming, and the poor woman be +deaved with their spiering." And then he began to laugh. "Did you +ever hear o' sic a thing as poetic justice, Sergeant? Nae, it's no' +the kind you'll get in the courts of law. Weel, it's poetic justice +for a birkie soldier, wha claims the airth and the fullness +thereof, to have to tak' his orders from a sma' shopkeeper. Go up +to the police office in St. Gila now and ask for an officer to +stand at the gate here to answer questions, and to keep the folk +awa' from the lodge." + +He stood guard himself, and satisfied a score of visitors before +the sergeant came back, and there was another instance of poetic +justice, in the crestfallen Burgh policeman who had been sent with +instructions to take his orders from the delighted landlord. + +"Eh, Davie, it's a lang lane that has nae turning. Ye're juist to +stand here a' the day an' say to ilka body wha spiers for the dog: +'Ay, sir, Greyfriars Bobby's been leevin' i' the kirkyaird aucht +years an' mair, an' Maister Traill's aye fed 'im i' the +dining-rooms. Ay, the case was dismissed i' the Burgh coort. The +Laird Provost gied a collar to the bit Skye because there's a +meddlin' fule or twa amang the Burgh police wha'd be takin' 'im up. +The doggie's i' the lodge wi' the caretaker, wha's fair ill, an' he +canna be seen the day. But gang aroond the kirk an' ye can see Auld +Jock's grave that he's aye guarded. There's nae stave to it, but +it's neist to the fa'en table-tomb o' Mistress Jean Grant. A gude +day to ye.' Hae ye got a' that, man? Weel, cheer up. Yell hae to +say it nae mair than a thousand times or twa, atween noo an' +nichtfa'." + +He went away laughing at the penance that was laid upon his foe. +The landlord felt so well satisfied with the world that he took +another jaunty crack at the sergeant: "By richts, man, you ought to +go to gaol, but I'll just fine you a shulling a month for Bobby's +natural lifetime, to give the wee soldier a treat of a steak or a +chop once a week." + +Hands were struck heartily on the bargain, and the two men parted +good friends. Now, finding Ailie dropping tears in the dish-water, +Mr. Traill sent her flying down to the lodge with instructions to +make herself useful to Mrs. Brown. Then he was himself besieged in +his place of business by folk of high and low degree who were +disappointed by their failure to see Bobby in the kirkyard. +Greyfriars Dining-Rooms had more distinguished visitors in a day +than they had had in all the years since Auld Jock died and a +little dog fell there at the landlord's feet "a' but deid wi' +hunger." + +Not one of all the grand folk who, inquired for Bobby at the +kirkyard or at the restaurant got a glimpse of him that day. But +after they were gone the tenement dwellers came up to the gate +again, as they had gathered the evening before, and begged that +they might just tak' a look at him and his braw collar. "The bonny +bit is the bairns' ain doggie, an' the Laird Provost himsel' told +'em he wasna to be neglectet," was one mother's plea. + +Ah! that was very true. To the grand folk who had come to see him, +Bobby was only a nine-days' wonder. His story had touched the +hearts of all orders of society. For a time strangers would come to +see him, and then they would forget all about him or remember him +only fitfully. It was to these poor people around the kirkyard, +themselves forgotten by the more fortunate, that the little dog +must look for his daily meed of affection and companionship. Mr. +Traill spoke to them kindly. + +"Bide a wee, noo, an' I'll fetch the doggie doon." + +Bobby had slept blissfully nearly all the day, after his exhausting +labors and torturing pains. But with the sunset bugle he fretted to +be let out. Ailie had wept and pleaded, Mrs. Brown had reasoned +with him, and Mr. Brown had scolded, all to the end of persuading +him to sleep in "the hoose the nicht." But when no one was watching +him Bobby crawled from his rug and dragged himself to the door. He +rapped the floor with his tail in delight when Mr. Traill came in +and bundled him up on the rug, so he could lie easily, and carried +him down to the gate. + +For quite twenty minutes these neighbors and friends of Bobby filed +by silently, patted the shaggy little head, looked at the grand +plate with Bobby's and the Lord Provost's names upon it, and +believed their own wondering een. Bobby wagged his tail and lolled +his tongue, and now and then he licked the hand of a baby who had +to be lifted by a tall brother to see him. Shy kisses were dropped +on Bobby's head by toddling bairns, and awkward caresses by rough +laddies. Then they all went home quietly, and Mr. Traill carried +the little dog around the kirk. + +And there, ah! so belated, Auld Jock's grave bore its tribute of +flowers. Wreaths and nosegays, potted daffodils and primroses and +daisies, covered the sunken mound so that some of them had to be +moved to make room for Bobby. He sniffed and sniffed at them, +looked up inquiringly at Mr. Traill; and then snuggled down +contentedly among the blossoms. He did not understand their being +there any more than he understood the collar about which everybody +made such a to-do. The narrow band of leather would disappear under +his thatch again, and would be unnoticed by the casual passer-by; +the flowers would fade and never be so lavishly renewed; but there +was another more wonderful gift, now, that would never fail him. + +At nightfall, before the drum and bugle sounded the tattoo to call +the scattered garrison in the Castle, there took place a loving +ceremony that was never afterward omitted as long as Bobby lived. +Every child newly come to the tenements learned it, every weanie +lisped it among his first words. Before going to bed each bairn +opened a casement. Sometimes a candle was held up--a little star of +love, glimmering for a moment on the dark; but always there was a +small face peering into the melancholy kirkyard. In midsummer, and +at other seasons if the moon rose full and early and the sky was +clear, Bobby could be seen on the grave. And when he recovered from +these hurts he trotted about, making the circuit below the windows. +He could not speak there, because he had been forbidden, but he +could wag his tail and look up to show his friendliness. And +whether the children saw him or not they knew he was always there +after sunset, keeping watch and ward, and "lanely" because his +master had gone away to heaven; and so they called out to him +sweetly and clearly: + +"A gude nicht to ye, Bobby." + + +XII. + +In one thing Mr. Traill had been mistaken: the grand folk did not +forget Bobby. At the end of five years the leal Highlander was not +only still remembered, but he had become a local celebrity. + +Had the grave of his haunting been on the Pentlands or in one of +the outlying cemeteries of the city Bobby must have been known to +few of his generation, and to fame not at all. But among +churchyards Greyfriars was distinguished. One of the historic +show-places of Edinburgh, and in the very heart of the Old Town, it +was never missed by the most hurried tourist, seldom left +unvisited, from year to year, by the oldest resident. Names on its +old tombs had come to mean nothing to those who read them, except +as they recalled memorable records of love, of inspiration, of +courage, of self-sacrifice. And this being so, it touched the +imagination to see, among the marbles that crumbled toward the dust +below, a living embodiment of affection and fidelity. Indeed, it +came to be remarked, as it is remarked to-day, although four +decades have gone by, that no other spot in Greyfriars was so much +cared for as the grave of a man of whom nothing was known except +that the life and love of a little dog was consecrated to his +memory. + +At almost any hour Bobby might be found there. As he grew older he +became less and less willing to be long absent, and he got much of +his exercise by nosing about among the neighboring thorns. In fair +weather he took his frequent naps on the turf above his master, or +he sat on the fallen table-tomb in the sun. On foul days he watched +the grave from under the slab, and to that spot he returned from +every skirmish against the enemy. Visitors stopped to speak to him. +Favored ones were permitted to read the inscription on his collar +and to pat his head. It seemed, therefore, the most natural thing +in the world when the greatest lady in England, beside the Queen, +the Baroness Burdett-Coutts, came all the way from London to see +Bobby. + +Except that it was the first Monday in June, and Founder's Day at +Heriot's Hospital, it was like any other day of useful work, +innocent pleasure, and dreaming dozes on Auld Jock's grave to wee +Bobby. As years go, the shaggy little Skye was an old dog, but he +was not feeble or blind or unhappy. A terrier, as a rule, does not +live as long as more sluggish breeds of dogs, but, active to the +very end, he literally wears himself out tearing around, and then +goes, little soldier, very suddenly, dying gallantly with his boots +on. + +In the very early mornings of the northern summer Bobby woke with +the birds, a long time before the reveille was sounded from the +Castle. He scampered down to the circling street of tombs at once, +and not until the last prowler had been dispatched, or frightened +into his burrow, did he return for a brief nap on Auld Jock's +grave. + +All about him the birds fluttered and hopped and gossiped and +foraged, unafraid. They were used, by this time, to seeing the +little dog lying motionless, his nose on his paws. Often some +tidbit of food lay there, brought for Bobby by a stranger. He had +learned that a Scotch bun dropped near him was a feast that brought +feathered visitors about and won their confidence and cheerful +companionship. When he awoke he lay there lolling and blinking, +following the blue rovings of the titmice and listening to the +foolish squabbles of the sparrows and the shrewish scoldings of the +wrens. He always started when a lark sprang at his feet and a +cataract of melody tumbled from the sky. + +But, best of all, Bobby loved a comfortable and friendly robin +redbreast--not the American thrush that is called a robin, but the +smaller Old World warbler. It had its nest of grass and moss and +feathers, and many a silver hair shed by Bobby, low in a near-by +thorn bush. In sweet and plaintive talking notes it told its little +dog companion all about the babies that had left the nest and the +new brood that would soon be there. On the morning of that +wonderful day of the Grand Leddy's first coming, Bobby and the +redbreast had a pleasant visit together before the casements began +to open and the tenement bairns called down their morning greeting: + +"A gude day to ye, Bobby." + +By the time all these courtesies had been returned Tammy came in at +the gate with his college books strapped on his back. The old +Cunzic Neuk had been demolished by Glenormiston, and Tammy, living +in better quarters, was studying to be a teacher at Heriot's. Bobby +saw him settled, and then he had to escort Mr. Brown down from the +lodge. The caretaker made his way about stiffly with a cane and, +with the aid of a young helper who exasperated the old gardener by +his cheerful inefficiency, kept the auld kirkyard in beautiful +order. + +"Eh, ye gude-for-naethin' tyke," he said to Bobby, in transparent +pretense of his uselessness. "Get to wark, or I'll hae a young dog +in to gie ye a lift, an' syne whaur'll ye be?" + +Bobby jumped on him in open delight at this, as much as to say: "Ye +may be as dour as ye like, but ilka body kens ye're gude-hearted." + +Morning and evening numerous friends passed the gate, and the wee +dog waited for them on the wicket. Dr. George Ross and Mr. +Alexander McGregor shook Bobby's lifted paw and called him a sonsie +rascal. Small merchants, students, clerks, factory workers, house +servants, laborers and vendors, all honest and useful people, had +come up out of these old tenements within Bobby's memory; and +others had gone down, alas! into the Cowgate. But Bobby's tail +wagged for these unfortunates, too, and some of them had no other +friend in the world beside that uncalculating little dog. + +When the morning stream of auld acquaintance had gone by, and none +forgot, Bobby went up to the lodge to sit for an hour with Mistress +Jeanie. There he was called "croodlin' doo"--which was altogether +absurd--by the fond old woman. As neat of plumage, and as busy and +talkative about small domestic matters as the robin, Bobby loved to +watch the wifie stirring savory messes over the fire, watering her +posies, cleaning the fluttering skylark's cage, or just sitting by +the hearth or in the sunny doorway with him, knitting warm +stockings for her rheumatic gude-mon. + +Out in the kirkyard Bobby trotted dutifully at the caretaker's +heels. When visitors were about he did not venture to take a nap in +the open unless Mr. Brown was on guard, and, by long and close +companionship with him, the aging man could often tell what Bobby +was dreaming about. At a convulsive movement and a jerk of his head +the caretaker would say to the wifie, if she chanced to be near: + +"Leuk at that, noo, wull ye? The sperity bit was takin' thae fou' +vermin." And again, when the muscles of his legs worked +rhythmically, "He's rinnin' wi' the laddies or the braw soldiers on +the braes." + +Bobby often woke from a dream with a start, looked dazed, and then +foolish, at the vivid imaginings of sleep. But when, in a doze, he +half stretched himself up on his short, shagged fore paws, +flattened out, and then awoke and lay so, very still, for a time, +it was Mistress Jeanie who said: + +"Preserve us a'! The bonny wee was dreamin' o' his maister's deith, +an' noo he's greetin' sair." + +At that she took her little stool and sat on the grave beside him. +But Mr. Brown bit his teeth in his pipe, limped away, and stormed +at his daft helper laddie, who didn't appear to know a violet from +a burdock. + +Ah! who can doubt that, so deeply were scene and word graven on his +memory, Bobby often lived again the hour of his bereavement, and +heard Auld Jock's last words: + +"Gang--awa'--hame--laddie!" + +Homeless on earth, gude Auld Jock had gone to a place prepared for +him. But his faithful little dog had no home. This sacred spot was +merely his tarrying place, where he waited until such a time as +that mysterious door should open for him, perchance to an equal +sky, and he could slip through and find his master. + +On the morning of the day when the Grand Leddy came Bobby watched +the holiday crowd gather on Heriot's Hospital grounds. The mothers +and sisters of hundreds of boys were there, looking on at the great +match game of cricket. Bobby dropped over the wall and scampered +about, taking a merry part in the play. When the pupils' procession +was formed, and the long line of grinning and nudging laddies +marched in to service in the chapel and dinner in the hall, he was +set up over the kirkyard wall, hundreds of hands were waved to him, +and voices called back: "Fareweel, Bobby!" Then the time-gun boomed +from the Castle, and the little dog trotted up for his dinner and +nap under the settle and his daily visit with Mr. Traill. + +In fair weather, when the last guest had departed and the music +bells of St. Giles had ceased playing, the landlord was fond of +standing in his doorway, bareheaded and in shirt-sleeves and apron, +to exchange opinions on politics, literature and religion, or to +tell Bobby's story to what passers-by he could beguile into talk. +At his feet, there, was a fine place for a sociable little dog to +spend an hour. When he was ready to go Bobby set his paws upon Mr. +Traill and waited for the landlord's hand to be laid on his head +and the man to say, in the dialect the little dog best understood: +"Bide a wee. Ye're no' needin' to gang sae sune, laddie!" + +At that he dropped, barked politely, wagged his tail, and was off. +If Mr. Traill really wanted to detain Bobby he had only to withhold +the magic word "laddie," that no one else had used toward the +little dog since Auld Jock died. But if the word was too long in +coming, Bobby would thrash his tail about impatiently, look up +appealingly, and finally rise and beg and whimper. + +"Weel, then, bide wi' me, an' ye'll get it ilka hour o' the day, ye +sonsie, wee, talon' bit! What are ye hangin' aroond for? +Eh--weel--gang awa' wi' ye--laddie!" The landlord sighed and looked +down reproachfully. With a delighted yelp, and a lick of the +lingering hand, Bobby was off. + +It was after three o'clock on this day when he returned to the +kirkyard. The caretaker was working at the upper end, and the +little dog was lonely. But; long enough absent from his master, +Bobby lay down on the grave, in the stillness of the mid-afternoon. +The robin made a brief call and, as no other birds were about, +hopped upon Bobby's back, perched on his head, and warbled a little +song. It was then that the gate clicked. Dismissing her carriage +and telling the coachman to return at five, Lady Burdett-Coutts +entered the kirkyard. + +Bobby trotted around the kirk on the chance of meeting a friend. He +looked up intently at the strange lady for a moment, and she stood +still and looked down at him. She was not a beautiful lady, nor +very young. Indeed, she was a few years older than the Queen, and +the Queen was a widowed grandmother. But she had a sweet dignity +and warm serenity--an unhurried look, as if she had all the time in +the world for a wee dog; and Bobby was an age-whitened muff of a +plaintive terrier that captured her heart at once. Very certain +that this stranger knew and cared about how he felt, Bobby turned +and led her down to Auld Jock's grave. And when she was seated on +the table-tomb he came up to her and let her look at his collar, +and he stood under her caress, although she spoke to him in fey +English, calling him a darling little dog. Then, entirely contented +with her company, he lay down, his eyes fixed upon her and lolling +his tongue. + +The sun was on the green and flowery slope of Greyfriars, warming +the weathered tombs and the rear windows of the tenements. The +Grand Leddy found a great deal there to interest her beside Bobby +and the robin that chirped and picked up crumbs between the little +dog's paws. Presently the gate was opened again and' a housemaid +from some mansion in George Square came around the kirk. Trained by +Mistress Jeanie, she was a neat and pretty and pleasant-mannered +housemaid, in a black gown and white apron, and with a frilled cap +on her crinkly, gold-brown hair that had had more than "a lick or +twa the nicht afore." + +"It's juist Ailie," Bobby seemed to say, as he stood a moment with +crested neck and tail. "Ilka body kens Ailie." + +The servant lassie, with an hour out, had stopped to speak to +Bobby. She had not meant to stay long, but the lady, who didn't +look in the least grand, began to think friendly things aloud. + +"The windows of the tenements are very clean." + +"Ay. The bairnies couldna see Bobby gin the windows warna washed." +The lassie was pulling her adored little pet's ears, and Bobby was +nuzzling up to her. + +"In many of the windows there is a box of flowers, or of kitchen +herbs to make the broth savory." + +"It wasna so i' the auld days. It was aye washin's clappin' aboon +the stanes. Noo, mony o' the mithers hang the claes oot at nicht. +Ilka thing is changed sin' I was a wean an' leevin' i' the auld +Guildhall, the bairnies haen Bobby to lo'e, an' no' to be +neglectet." She continued the conversation to include Tammy as he +came around the kirk on his tapping crutches. + +"Hoo mony years is it, Tammy, sin' Bobby's been leevin' i' the auld +kirkyaird? At Maister Traill's snawy picnic ye war five gangin' on +sax." They exchanged glances in which lay one of the happy memories +of sad childhoods. + +"Noo I'm nineteen going on twenty. It's near fourteen years syne, +Ailie." Nearly all the burrs had been pulled from Tammy's tongue, +but he used a Scotch word now and then, no' to shame Ailie's less +cultivated speech. + +"So long?" murmured the Grand Leddy. "Bobby is getting old, very +old for a terrier." + +As if to deny that, Bobby suddenly shot down the slope in answer to +a cry of alarm from a song thrush. Still good for a dash, when he +came back he dropped panting. The lady put her hand on his rippling +coat and felt his heart pounding. Then she looked at his worn down +teeth and lifted his veil. Much of the luster was gone from Bobby's +brown eyes, but they were still soft and deep and appealing. + +From the windows children looked down upon the quiet group and, +without in the least knowing why they wanted to be there, too, the +tenement bairns began to drop into the kirkyard. Almost at once it +rained--a quick, bright, dashing shower that sent them all flying +and laughing up to the shelter of the portico to the new kirk. +Bobby scampered up, too, and with the bairns in holiday duddies +crowding about her, and the wee dog lolling at her feet, the Grand +Leddy talked fairy stories. + +She told them all about a pretty country place near London. It was +called Holly Lodge because its hedges were bright with green leaves +and red berries, even in winter. A lady who had no family at all +lived there, and to keep her company she had all sorts of pets. +Peter and Prince were the dearest dogs, and Cocky was a parrot that +could say the most amusing things. Sir Garnet was the llama goat, +or sheep--she didn't know which. There was a fat and lazy old pony +that had long been pensioned off on oats and clover, and--oh +yes--the white donkey must not be forgotten! + +"O-o-o-oh! I didna ken there wad be ony white donkeys!" cried a +big-eyed laddie. + +"There cannot be many, and there's a story about how the lady came +to have this one. One day, driving in a poor street, she saw a +coster--that is a London peddler--beating his tired donkey that +refused to pull the load. The lady got out of her carriage, fed the +animal some carrots from the cart, talked kindly to him right into +his big, surprised ear, and stroked his nose. Presently the poor +beast felt better and started off cheerfully with the heavy cart. +When many costers learned that it was not only wicked but foolish +to abuse their patient animals, they hunted for a white donkey to +give the lady. They put a collar of flowers about his neck, and +brought him up on a platform before a crowd of people. Everybody +laughed, for he was a clumsy and comical beast to be decorated with +roses and daisies. But the lady is proud of him, and now that +pampered donkey has nothing to do but pull her Bath chair about, +when she is at Holly Lodge, and kick up his heels on a clover +pasture." + +"Are ye kennin' anither tale, Leddy?" + +"Oh, a number of them. Prince, the fox terrier, was ill once, and +the doctor who came to see him said his mistress gave him too much +to eat. That was very probable, because that lady likes to see +children and animals have too much to eat. There are dozens and +dozens of poor children that the lady knows and loves. Once they +lived in a very dark and dirty and crowded tenement, quite as bad +as some that were torn down in the Cowgate and the Grassmarket." + +"It mak's ye fecht ane anither," said one laddie, soberly. "Gin +they had a sonsie doggie like Bobby to lo'e, an' an auld kirkyaird +wi' posies an' birdies to leuk into, they wadna fecht sae muckle." + +"I'm very sure of that. Well, the lady built a new tenement with +plenty of room and light and air, and a market so they can get +better food more cheaply, and a large church, that is also a kind +of school where big and little people can learn many things. She +gives the children of the neighborhood a Christmas dinner and a gay +tree, and she strips the hedges of Holly Lodge for them, and then +she takes Peter and Prince, and Cocky the parrot, to help along the +fun, and she tells her newest stories. Next Christmas she means to +tell the story of Greyfriars Bobby, and how all his little Scotch +friends are better-behaving and cleaner and happier because they +have that wee dog to love." + +"Ilka body lo'es Bobby. He wasna ever mistreatet or neglectet," +said Ailie, thoughtfully. + +"Oh--my--dear! That's the very best part of the story!" The Grand +Leddy had a shining look. + +The rain had ceased and the sun come out, and the children began to +be called away. There was quite a little ceremony of lingering +leave-taking with the lady and with Bobby, and while this was going +on Ailie had a "sairious" confidence for her old playfellow. + +"Tammy, as the leddy says, Bobby's gettin' auld. I ken whaur's a +snawy hawthorn aboon the burn in Swanston Dell. The throstles nest +there, an' the blackbirds whustle bonny. It isna so far but the +bairnies could march oot wi' posies." She turned to the lady, who +had overheard her. "We gied a promise to the Laird Provost to gie +Bobby a grand funeral. Ye ken he wullna be permittet to be buried +i' the kirkyaird." + +"Will he not? I had not thought of that." Her tone was at once +hushed and startled. + +Then she was down in the grass, brooding over the little dog, and +Bobby had the pathetic look of trying to understand what this +emotional talk, that seemed to concern himself, was about. Tammy +and Ailie were down, too. + +"Are ye thinkin' Bobby wall be kennin' the deeference?" Ailie's +bluebell eyes were wide at the thought of pain for this little pet. + +"I do not know, my dear. But there cannot well be more love in this +world than there is room for in God's heaven." + +She was silent all the way to the gate, some thought in her mind +already working toward a gracious deed. At the last she said: "The +little dog is fond of you both. Be with him all you can, for I +think his beautiful life is near its end." After a pause, during +which her face was lighted by a smile, as if from a lovely thought +within, she added: "Don't let Bobby die before my return from +London." + +In a week she was back, and in the meantime letters and telegrams +had been flying, and many wheels set in motion in wee Bobby's +affairs. When she returned to the churchyard, very early one +morning, no less a person than the Lord Provost himself was with +her. Five years had passed, but Mr.--no, Sir William--Chambers, +Laird of Glenormiston, for he had been knighted by the Queen, was +still Lord Provost of Edinburgh. + +Almost immediately Mr. Traill appeared, by appointment, and was +made all but speechless for once in his loquacious life by the +honor of being asked to tell Bobby's story to the Baroness +Burdett-Coutts. But not even a tenement child or a London coster +could be ill at ease with the Grand Leddy for very long, and +presently the three were in close conference in the portico. Bobby +welcomed them, and then dozed in the sun and visited with the robin +on Auld Jock's grave. Far from being tongue-tied, the landlord was +inspired. What did he not remember, from the pathetic renunciation, +"Bobby isna ma ain dog," down to the leal Highlander's last, near +tragic reminder to men that in the nameless grave lay his +unforgotten master. + +He sketched the scene in Haddo's Hole, where the tenement bairns +poured out as pure a gift of love and mercy and self-sacrifice as +had ever been laid at the foot of a Scottish altar. He told of the +search for the lately ransomed and lost terrier, by the lavish use +of oil and candles; of Bobby's coming down Castle Rock in the fog, +battered and bruised for a month's careful tending by an old Heriot +laddie. His feet still showed the scars of that perilous descent. +He himself, remorseful, had gone with the Biblereader from the +Medical Mission in the Cowgate to the dormer-lighted closet in +College Wynd, where Auld Jock had died. Now he described the +classic fireplace of white freestone, with its boxed-in bed, where +the Pentland shepherd lay like some effigy on a bier, with the wee +guardian dog stretched on the flagged hearth below. + +"What a subject for a monument!" The Grand Leddy looked across the +top of the slope at the sleeping Skye. "I suppose there is no +portrait of Bobby." + +"Ay, your Leddyship; I have a drawing in the dining rooms, sketched +by Mr. Daniel Maclise. He was here a year or twa ago, just before +his death, doing some commission, and often had his tea in my bit +place. I told him Bobby's story, and he made the sketch for me as a +souvenir of his veesit." + +"I am sure you prize it, Mr. Traill. Mr. Maclise was a talented +artist, but he was not especially an animal painter. There really +is no one since Landseer paints no more." + +"I would advise you, Baroness, not to make that remark at an +Edinburgh dinner-table." Glenormiston was smiling. "The pride of +Auld Reekie just now is Mr. Gourlay Stelle, who was lately +commanded to Balmoral Castle to paint the Queen's dogs." + +"The very person! I have seen his beautiful canvas--'Burns and the +Field Mouse.' Is he not a younger brother of Sir John Stelle, the +sculptor of the statue and character figures in the Scott +monument?" Her eyes sparkled as she added: "You have so much talent +of the right, sorts here that it would be wicked not to employ it +in the good cause." + +What "the good cause" was came out presently, in the church, where +she startled even Glenormiston and Mr. Traill by saying quietly to +the minister and the church officers of Greyfriars auld kirk: "When +Bobby dies I want him laid in the grave with his master." + +Every member of both congregations knew Bobby and was proud of his +fame, but no official notice had ever been taken of the little +dog's presence in the churchyard. The elders and deacons were, in +truth, surprised that such distinguished attention should be +directed to him now, and they were embarrassed by it. It was not +easy for any body of men in the United Kingdom to refuse anything +to Lady Burdett-Coutts, because she could always count upon having +the sympathy of the public. But this, they declared, could not be +considered. To propose to bury a dog in the historic churchyard +would scandalize the city. To this objection Glenormiston said, +seriously: "The feeling about Bobby is quite exceptional. I would +be willing to put the matter to the test of heading a petition." + +At that the church officers threw up their hands. They preferred to +sound public sentiment themselves, and would consider it. But if +Bobby was permitted to be buried with his master there must be no +notice taken of it. Well, the Heriot laddies might line up along +the wall, and the tenement bairns look down from the windows. Would +that satisfy her ladyship? + +"As far as it goes." The Grand Leddy was smiling, but a little +tremulous about the mouth. + +That was a day when women had little to say in public, and she +meant to make a speech, and to ask to be allowed to do an +unheard-of thing. + +"I want to put up a monument to the nameless man who inspired such +love, and to the little dog that was capable of giving it. Ah +gentlemen, do not refuse, now." She sketched her idea of the +classic fireplace bier, the dead shepherd of the Pentlands, and the +little prostrate terrier. "Immemorial man and his faithful dog. Our +society for the prevention of cruelty to animals is finding it so +hard to get people even to admit the sacredness of life in dumb +creatures, the brutalizing effects of abuse of them on human +beings, and the moral and practical worth to us of kindness. To +insist that a dog feels, that he loves devotedly and with less +calculation than men, that he grieves at a master's death and +remembers him long years, brings a smile of amusement. Ah yes! Here +in Scotland, too, where your own great Lord Erskine was a pioneer +of pity two generations ago, and with Sir Walter's dogs beloved of +the literary, and Doctor Brown's immortal 'Rab,' we find it uphill +work. + +"The story of Greyfriars Bobby is quite the most complete and +remarkable ever recorded in dog annals. His lifetime of devotion +has been witnessed by thousands, and honored publicly, by your own +Lord Provost, with the freedom of the city, a thing that, I +believe, has no precedent. All the endearing qualities of the dog +reach their height in this loyal and lovable Highland terrier; and +he seems to have brought out the best qualities of the people who +have known him. Indeed, for fourteen years hundreds of disinherited +children have been made kinder and happier by knowing Bobby's story +and having that little dog to love." + +She stopped in some embarrassment, seeing how she had let herself +go, in this warm championship, and then she added: + +"Bobby does not need a monument, but I think we need one of him, +that future generations may never forget what the love of a dog may +mean, to himself and to us." + +The Grand Leddy must have won her plea, then and there, but for the +fact that the matter of erecting a monument of a public character +anywhere in the city had to come up before the Burgh council. In +that body the stubborn opposition of a few members unexpectedly +developed, and, in spite of popular sympathy with the proposal, the +plan was rejected. Permission was given, however, for Lady +Burdett-Coutts to put up a suitable memorial to Bobby at the end of +George IV Bridge, and opposite the main gateway to the kirkyard. + +For such a public place a tomb was unsuitable. What form the +memorial was to take was not decided upon until, because of two +chance happenings of one morning, the form of it bloomed like a +flower in the soul of the Grand Leddy. She had come down to the +kirkyard to watch the artist at work. Morning after morning he had +sketched there. He had drawn Bobby lying down, his nose on his +paws, asleep on the grave. He had drawn him sitting upon the +table-tomb, and standing in the begging attitude in which he was so +irresistible. But with every sketch he was dissatisfied. + +Bobby was a trying and deceptive subject. He had the air of +curiosity and gaiety of other terriers. He saw no sense at all in +keeping still, with his muzzle tipped up or down, and his tail held +just so. He brushed all that unreasonable man's suggestions aside +as quite unworthy of consideration. Besides, he had the liveliest +interest in the astonishing little dog that grew and disappeared, +and came back, in some new attitude, on the canvas. He scraped +acquaintance with it once or twice to the damage of fresh +brush-work. He was always jumping from his pose and running around +the easel to see how the latest dog was coming on. + +After a number of mornings Bobby lost interest in the man and his +occupation and went about his ordinary routine of life as if the +artist was not there at all. One morning the wee terrier was found +sitting on the table-tomb, on his haunches, looking up toward the +Castle, where clouds and birds were blown around the sun-gilded +battlements. + +His attitude might have meant anything or nothing, for the man who +looked at him from above could not see his expression. And all at +once he realized that to see Bobby a human being must get down to +his level. To the scandal of the children, he lay on his back on +the grass and did nothing at all but look up at Bobby until the +little dog moved. Then he set the wee Highlander up on an +altar-topped shaft just above the level of the human eye. +Indifferent at the moment as to what was done to him, Bobby +continued to gaze up and out, wistfully and patiently, upon this +masterless world. As plainly as a little dog could speak, Bobby +said: + +"I hae bided lang an' lanely. Hoo lang hae I still to bide? An' +syne, wull I be gangin' to Auld Jock?" + +The Grand Leddy saw that at once, and tears started to her eyes +when she came in to find the artist sketching with feverish +rapidity. She confessed that she had looked into Bobby's eyes, but +she had never truly seen that mourning little creature before. He +had only to be set up so, in bronze, and looking through the +kirkyard gate, to tell his own story to the most careless passerby. +The image of the simple memorial was clear in her mind, and it +seemed unlikely that anything could be added to it, when she left +the kirkyard. + +As she was getting into her carriage a noble collie, but one with a +discouraged tail and hanging tongue, came out of Forest Road. He +had done a hard morning's work, of driving a flock from the +Pentlands to the cattle and sheep market, and then had hunted far +and unsuccessfully for water. He nosed along the gutter, here and +there licking from the cobblestones what muddy moisture had not +drained away from a recent rain. The same lady who had fed the +carrots to the coster's donkey in London turned hastily into Ye +Olde Greyfriars Dining-Rooms, and asked Mr. Traill for a basin of +water. The landlord thought he must have misunderstood her. "Is it +a glass of water your Leddyship's wanting?" + +"No, a basin, please; a large one, and very quickly." + +She took it from him, hurried out, and set it under the thirsty +animal's nose. The collie lapped it eagerly until the water was +gone, then looked up and, by waggings and lickings, asked for more. +Mr. Traill brought out a second basin, and he remarked upon a +sheep-dog's capacity for water. + +"It's no' a basin will satisfy him, used as he is to having a tam +on the moor to drink from. This neeborhood is noted for the dogs +that are aye passing. On Wednesdays the farm dogs come up from the +Grassmarket, and every day there are weel-cared-for dogs from the +residence streets, dogs of all conditions across the bridge from +High Street, and meeserable waifs from the Cowgate. Stray pussies +are about, too. I'm a gude-hearted man, and an unco' observant one, +your Leddyship, but I was no' thinking that these animals must +often suffer from thirst." + +"Few people do think of it. Most men can love some one dog or cat +or horse and be attentive to its wants, but they take little +thought for the world of dumb animals that are so dependent upon +us. It is no special credit to you, Mr. Traill, that you became +fond of an attractive little dog like Bobby and have cared for him +so tenderly." + +The landlord gasped. He had taken not a little pride in his stanch +championship and watchful care of Bobby, and his pride had beer +increased by the admiration that had been lavished on him for years +by the general public. Now, as he afterward confessed to Mr. Brown: + +"Her leddyship made me feel I'd done naething by the ordinar', but +maistly to please my ainsel'. Eh, man, she made me sing sma'." + +When the collie had finished drinking, he looked up gratefully, +rubbed against the good Samaritans, waved his plumed tail like a +banner, and trotted away. After a thoughtful moment Lady +Burdett-Coutts said: + +"The suitable memorial here, Mr. Traill, is a fountain, with a low +basin level with the curb, and a higher one, and Bobby sitting on +an altar-topped central column above, looking through the kirkyard +gate. It shall be his mission to bring men and small animals +together in sympathy by offering to both the cup of cold water." + +She was there once again that year. On her way north she stopped in +Edinburgh over night to see how the work on the fountain had +progressed. It was in Scotland's best season, most of the days dry +and bright and sharp. But on that day it was misting, and yellow +leaves were dropping on the wet tombs and beaded grass, when the +Grand Leddy appeared at the kirkyard late in the afternoon with a +wreath of laurel to lay on Auld Jock's grave. + +Bobby slipped out, dry as his own delectable bone, from under the +tomb of Mistress Jean Grant, and nearly wagged his tail off with +pleasure. Mistress Jeanie was set in a proud flutter when the Grand +Leddy rang at the lodge kitchen and asked if she and Bobby could +have their tea there with the old couple by the cozy grate fire. + +They all drank tea from the best blue cups, and ate buttered scones +and strawberry jam on the scoured deal table. Bobby had his +porridge and broth on the hearth. The coals snapped in the grate +and the firelight danced merrily on the skylark's cage and the +copper kettle. Mr. Brown got out his fife and played "Bonnie +Dundee." Wee, silver-white Bobby tried to dance, but he tumbled +over so lamentably once or twice that he hung his head +apologetically, admitting that he ought to have the sense to know +that his dancing days were done. He lay down and lolled and blinked +on the hearth until the Grand Leddy rose to go. + +"I am on my way to Braemar to visit for a few days at Balmoral +Castle. I wish I could take Bobby with me to show him to the dear +Queen." + +"Preserve me!" cried Mistress Jeanie, and Mr. Brown's pet pipe was +in fragments on the hearth. + +Bobby leaped upon her and whimpered, saying "Dinna gang, Leddy!" as +plainly as a little dog could say anything. He showed the pathos at +parting with one he was fond of, now, that an old and affectionate +person shows. He clung to her gown, rubbed his rough head under her +hand, and trotted disconsolately beside her to her waiting +carriage. At the very last she said, sadly: + +"The Queen will have to come to Edinburgh to see Bobby." + +"The bonny wee wad be a prood doggie, yer Leddyship," Mistress +Jeanie managed to stammer, but Mr. Brown was beyond speech. + +The Grand Leddy said nothing. She looked at the foundation work of +Bobby's memorial fountain, swathed in canvas against the winter, +and waiting--waiting for the spring, when the waters of the earth +should be unsealed again; waiting until finis could be written to a +story on a bronze table-tomb; waiting for the effigy of a shaggy +Skye terrier to be cast and set up; waiting-- + +When the Queen came to see Bobby it was unlikely that he would know +anything about it. + +He would know nothing of the crowds to gather there on a public +occasion, massing on the bridge, in Greyfriars Place, in broad +Chambers Street, and down Candlemakers Row--the magistrates and +Burgh council, professors and students from the University, +soldiers from the Castle, the neighboring nobility in carriages, +farmers and shepherds from the Pentlands, the Heriot laddies +marching from the school, and the tenement children in holiday +duddies--all to honor the memory of a devoted little dog. He would +know nothing of the military music and flowers, the prayer of the +minister of Greyfriars auld kirk, the speech of the Lord Provost; +nothing of the happy tears of the Grand Leddy when a veil should +fall away from a little bronze dog that gazed wistfully through the +kirkyard gate, and water gush forth for the refreshment of men and +animals. + +"Good-by, good-by, good-by, Bobby; most loving and lovable, +darlingest wee dog in the world!" she cried, and a shower of bright +drops and sweet little sounds fell on Bobby's tousled head. Then +the carriage of the Grand Leddy rolled away in the rainy dusk. + +The hour-bell of St. Giles was rung, and the sunset bugle blown in +the Castle. It took Mr. Brown a long time to lift the wicket, close +the tall leaves and lock the gate. The wind was rising, and the air +hardening. One after one the gas lamps flared in the gusts that +blew on the bridge. The huge bulk of shadow lay, velvet black, in +the drenched quarry pit of the Grassmarket. The caretaker's voice +was husky with a sudden "cauld in 'is heid." + +"Ye're an auld dog, Bobby, an' ye canna deny it. Ye'll juist hae to +sleep i' the hoose the misty nicht." + +Loath to part with them, Bobby went up to the lodge with the old +couple and saw them within the cheerful kitchen. But when the door +was held open for him, he wagged his tail in farewell and trotted +away around the kirk. All the concession he was willing to make to +old age and bad weather was to sleep under the fallen table-tomb. + +Greyfriars on a dripping autumn evening! A pensive hour and season, +everything memorable brooded there. Crouched back in shadowy ranks, +the old tombs were draped in mystery. The mist was swirled by the +wind and smoke smeared out, over their dim shapes. Where families +sat close about scant suppers, the lights of candles and cruisey +lamps were blurred. The faintest halo hung above the Castle head. +Infrequent footsteps hurried by the gate. There was the rattle of a +belated cart, the ring of a distant church bell. But even on such +nights the casements were opened and little faces looked into the +melancholy kirkyard. Candles glimmered for a moment on the murk, +and sweetly and clearly the tenement bairns called down: + +"A gude nicht to ye, Bobby." + +They could not see the little dog, but they knew he was there. They +knew now that he would still be there when they could see him no +more--his body a part of the soil, his memory a part of all that +was held dear and imperishable in that old garden of souls. They +could go up to the lodge and look at his famous collar, and they +would have his image in bronze on the fountain. And sometime, when +the mysterious door opened for them, they might see Bobby again, a +sonsie doggie running on the green pastures and beside the still +waters, at the heels of his shepherd master, for: + +If there is not more love in this world than there is room for in +God's heaven, Bobby would just have "gaen awa' hame." + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Greyfriars Bobby, Eleanor Atkinson + diff --git a/old/bobby10.zip b/old/bobby10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c2c22c2 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/bobby10.zip |