Greyfriars Bobby by Eleanor Stackhouse Atkinson


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Page 49

"He's no' a laird."

"Nae; but he'll be a laird the next time the Queen shows her
bonny face north o' the Tweed. Tak' 'a cup o' kindness' with me,
man. Hot tay will tak' the cauld out of vour disposeetion." Mr.
Traill pulled a bell-cord and Ailie, unused as yet to bells, put
her startled little face in at the door to the scullery. At sight
of the policeman she looked more than ever like a scared rabbit,
and her hands shook when she set the tray down before him. A
tenement child grew up in an atmosphere of hostility to uniformed
authority, which seldom appeared except to interfere with what
were considered personal affairs.

The tea mollified the dour man, but there was one more rumbling.
"I'm no' denyin' the Provost's gude-hearted. Ance he got up a
hame for gaen-aboot dogs, an' he had naethin' to mak' by that.
But he canna keep 'is spoon oot o' ilka body's porridge. He's
fair daft to tear doon the wa's that cut St. Giles up into fower,
snod, white kirks, an' mak' it the ane muckle kirk it was in auld
Papist days. There are folk that say, gin he doesna leuk oot,
anither kale wifie wull be throwin' a bit stool at 'is meddlin'
heid."

"Eh, nae doubt. There's aye a plentifu' supply o' fules in the
warld."

Seeing his good friend so well entertained, and needing his
society no longer, Bobby got up, wagged his tail in farewell, and
started toward the door. Mr. Traill summoned the little maid and
spoke to her kindly: "Give Bobby a bone, lassie, and then open
the door for him."

In carrying out these instructions Ailie gave the policeman as
wide leeway as possible and kept a wary eye upon him. The
officer's duties were chiefly up on High Street. He seldom
crossed the bridge, and it happened that he had never seen Bobby
before. Just by way of making conversation he remarked, "I didna
ken ye had a dog, John."

Ailie stopped stock still, the cups on the tray she was taking
out tinkling from her agitation. It was thus policemen spoke at
private doors in the dark tenements: "I didna ken ye had the
smallpox." But Mr. Traill seemed in no way alarmed. He answered
with easy indulgence "That's no' surprising. There's mony a thing
you dinna ken, Davie."

The landlord forgot the matter at once, but Ailie did not, for
she saw the officer flush darkly and, having no answer ready, go
out in silence. In truth, the good-humored sarcasm rankled in the
policeman's breast. An hour later he suddenly came to a
standstill below the clock tower of the Tron kirk on High Street,
and he chuckled.

"Eh, John Traill. Ye're unco' weel furnished i' the heid, but
there's ane or twa things ye dinna ken yer ainsel'."

Entirely taken up with his brilliant idea, he lost no time in
putting it to work. He dodged among the standing cabs and around
the buttresses of St. Giles that projected into the thoroughfare.
In the mid-century there was a police office in the middle of the
front of the historic old cathedral that had then fallen to its
lowest ebb of fortune. There the officer reported a matter that
was strictly within the line of his duty.

Very early the next morning he was standing before the door of
Mr. Traill's place, in the fitful sunshine of clearing skies,
when the landlord appeared to begin the business of the day.

"Are ye Maister John Traill?"

"Havers, Davie! What ails you, man? You know my name as weel as
you know your ain."

"It's juist a formality o' the law to mak' ye admit yer identity.
Here's a bit paper for ye." He thrust an official-looking
document into Mr. Traill's hand and took himself away across the
bridge, fair satisfied with his conduct of an affair of subtlety.

It required five minutes for Mr. Traill to take in the import of
the legal form. Then a wrathful explosion vented itself on the
unruly key that persisted in dodging the keyhole. But once within
he read the paper again, put it away thoughtfully in an inner
pocket, and outwardly subsided to his ordinary aspect. He
despatched the business of the day with unusual attention to
details and courtesy to guests, and when, in mid afternoon, the
place was empty, he followed Bobby to the kirkyard and inquired
at the lodge if he could see Mr. Brown.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Sun 21st Dec 2025, 10:58