diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:19:40 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:19:40 -0700 |
| commit | 8581227fd5bec7303452e991f05ef1b3ba79b999 (patch) | |
| tree | 759f3916770831feed669611d232c79c3f89a089 /2693-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '2693-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 2693-h/2693-h.htm | 7854 |
1 files changed, 7854 insertions, 0 deletions
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. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” + or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.” + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. 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. + + +</pre> + </body> +</html> |