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Updated: June 16, 2025
In eight years and more Bobby had not been outside the kirkyard gate after the sunset bugle. Mrs. Brown turned pale. "Dinna say the bittie dog's lost, Maister Traill. It wad gang to the heart o' ma gudemon." "Havers, woman, he's no' lost." Mr. Traill spoke stoutly enough. "Just go up to the lodge and tell Mr.
Half an hour of dirty work sufficed, with such assistance as I gained from juvenile advice, to accomplish the task properly; then I put the horned steed into the shafts, Budge cracked the whip, the carriage moved off without noise, and Toddie began to weep bitterly. "Cawwidge is all bwoke," said he; "WHEELSH DON'T SING A BITTIE NO MORE," while Budge remarked:
Turn the lookin'-gless roond this wey a bittie on the dresser there, an I'll notice in't if onybody comes into the shop, an' tell them to hover a blink till ye rin yont to Mary's. Rin noo, Sandy, an' speer at Mary if she has coals an' sticks, an' tell her to keep on a gude fire. Puir cratur!"
He was in none of the chambers, but hearing gentle murmurs issue from a long, light closet, I looked in and saw Toddie sitting on the floor, and eating the cheese out of a mouse-trap. A squeak of my boots betrayed me, and Toddie, equal to the emergency, sprang to his feet and exclaimed: "I didn't hurt de 'ittle mousie one bittie; I just letted him out, and he runded away." And still it rained.
"Now I must run and do my bittie shopping, Padre," she said, and kissed her hand all round.... The curtain had to come down for a little while on so dramatic a situation. Any discussion, just then, would be an anti-climax. Captain Puffin found but a sombre diarist when he came over to study his Roman roads with Major Flint that evening, and indeed he was a sombre antiquarian himself.
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