Greyfriars Bobby by Eleanor Stackhouse Atkinson


Main
- books.jibble.org



My Books
- IRC Hacks

Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare

External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd

books.jibble.org

Previous Page | Next Page

Page 25

"Eh, you're no' going?" Mr. Traill put his hands in his pockets,
looked down at Bobby admiringly, and sighed. "There's a dog after
my ain heart, and he'll have naething to do with me. He has a
mind of his ain. I'll just have to be leaving him here the two
days, Mr. Brown."

"Ye wullna leave 'im! Ye'll tak' 'im wi' ye, or I'll hae to put
'im oot. Man, I couldna haud the place gin I brak the rules."

"You--will--no'--put--the--wee--dog--out!" Mr. Traill shook a
playful,
emphatic finger under the big man's nose.

"Why wull I no'?"

"Because, man, you have a vera soft heart, and you canna deny
it." It was with a genial, confident smile that Mr. Traill made
this terrible accusation.

"Ma heart's no' so saft as to permit a bit dog to scandalize the
deid."

"He's been here two days, you no' knowing it, and he has
scandalized neither the dead nor the living. He's as leal as ony
Covenanter here, and better conducted than mony a laird. He's no
the quarrelsome kind, but, man, for a principle he'd fight like
auld Clootie." Here the landlord's heat gave way to pure
enjoyment of the situation. "Eh, I'd like to see you put him out.
It would be another Flodden Field."

The angry caretaker shrugged his broad shoulders.

"Ye can see it, gin ye stand by, in juist one meenit. Fecht as he
may, it wull soon be ower."

Mr. Traill laughed easily, and ventured the opinion that Mr.
Brown's bark was worse than his bite. As he went through the
gateway he could not resist calling back a challenge: "I daur you
to do it."

Mr. Brown locked the gate, went sulkily into the lodge, lighted
his cutty pipe, and smoked it furiously. He read a Psalm with
deliberation, poked up an already bright fire, and glowered at
his placid gude wife. It was not to be borne--to be defied by a
ten-inch-high terrier, and dared, by a man a third under his own
weight, to do his duty. After an hour or so he worked himself up
to the point of going out and slamming the door.

At eight o'clock Mr. Traill found Bobby on the pavement outside
the locked gate. He was not sorry that the fortunes of unequal
battle had thrown the faithful little dog on his hospitality.
Bobby begged piteously to be put inside, but he seemed to
understand at last that the gate was too high for Mr. Traill to
drop him over. He followed the landlord up to the restaurant
willingly. He may have thought this champion had another solution
of the difficulty, for when he saw the man settle comfortably in
a chair he refused to lie on the hearth. He ran to the door and
back, and begged and whined to be let out. For a long time he
stood dejectedly. He was not sullen, for he ate a light supper
and thanked his host with much polite wagging, and he even
allowed himself to be petted. Suddenly he thought of something,
trotted briskly off to a corner and crouched there.

Mr. Traill watched the attractive little creature with interest
and growing affection. Very likely he indulged in a day-dream
that, perhaps, the tenant of Cauldbrae farm could be induced to
part with Bobby for a consideration, and that he himself could
win the dog to transfer his love from a cold grave to a warm
hearth.

With a spring the rat was captured. A jerk of the long head and
there was proof of Bobby's prowess to lay at his good friend's
feet. Made much of, and in a position to ask fresh favors, the
little dog was off to the door with cheerful, staccato barks. His
reasoning was as plain as print: "I hae done ye a service, noo
tak' me back to the kirkyaird."

Mr. Traill talked to him as he might have reasoned with a bright
bairn. Bobby listened patiently, but remained of the same mind.
At last he moved away, disappointed in this human person,
discouraged, but undefeated in his purpose. He lay down by the
door. Mr. Traill watched him, for if any chance late comer opened
the door the masterless little dog would be out into the perils
of the street. Bobby knew what doors were for and, very likely,
expected. some such release. He waited a long time patiently.
Then he began to run back and forth. He put his paws upon Mr.
Traill and whimpered and cried. Finally he howled.

Previous Page | Next Page


Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Sun 14th Dec 2025, 14:07