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Updated: May 4, 2025
He was no sooner, however, seated, than with an unusual exertion of his powers of conversation, he added, "Jeanie I say, Jeanie, woman" here he extended his hand towards her shoulder with all the fingers spread out as if to clutch it, but in so bashful and awkward a manner, that when she whisked herself beyond its reach, the paw remained suspended in the air with the palm open, like the claw of a heraldic griffin "Jeanie," continued the swain in this moment of inspiration "I say, Jeanie, it's a braw day out-by, and the roads are no that ill for boot-hose."
But after they were gone the tenement dwellers came up to the gate again, as they had gathered the evening before, and begged that they might just tak' a look at him and his braw collar. "The bonny bit is the bairns' ain doggie, an' the Laird Provost himsel' told 'em he wasna to be neglectet," was one mother's plea. Ah! that was very true.
"This is a fine scene," he said to his companion, curious, perhaps, to draw out her sentiments; "we have nothing like it in Scotland." "It's braw rich feeding for the cows, and they have a fine breed o' cattle here," replied Jeanie; "but I like just as weel to look at the craigs of Arthur's Seat, and the sea coming in ayont them as at a' thae muckle trees."
The caretaker turned to the admiring children. "Ilka morn he fetches 'is bit bane up, thinkin' it a braw giftie for an ill man. An' syne he veesits me twa times i' the day, juist bidin' a wee on the hearthstane, lollin' 'is tongue an' waggin' 'is tail, cheerfu'-like. Bobby has mair gude sense in 'is heid than mony a man wha comes ben the hoose, wi' a lang face, to let me ken I'm gangin' to dee.
"There's a youth in this city, it were a great pity That he from our lasses should wander awa'; For he's bonny and braw, weel-favoured witha', And his hair has a natural buckle and a'. His coat is the hue of his bonnet so blue; His pocket is white as the new-driven snaw; His hose they are blue, and his shoon like the slae, And his clean siller buckles they dazzle us a'." BURNS.
But, ye ken, he was that sort of man we'd always say, when we were talking of him: "Oh, aye there's Andy. A braw laddie but what he micht be!" Andy thought he was better than the rest of us. There was that, for ane thing. He'd no be doing the things the rest of us were glad enough to do. It was naught to him to walk along the Quarry Road wi' a lassie, and buss her in a dark spot, maybe.
"A what do you say it is, Mistress Moggie?" asked Father Mendez. "A braw laddie; a big bouncing boy, ye would ca' him in English," answered Moggie, with a slight touch of scorn in her tone. "A boy!" exclaimed the priest and the lieutenant almost at the same moment. The priest took several rapid turns up and down the courtyard with compressed lips and knitted brow, but said nothing.
"Doesna your grandmother need you, nor your mother, and can you come up the brae with that braw gown on?" Katie smiled and took his hand. "My gown will wash, and I'll take care, and grannie gave me leave to come." And so the two went slowly up the hill, saying little, but content with the silence.
When the sturdy boy was inside and the door safely shut, he began in his most guileless and persuasive tone: "Would you like to earn a shulling, Geordie?" "Ay, I would. Gie it to me i' pennies an' ha'pennies, Maister Traill. It seems mair, an' mak's a braw jinglin' in a pocket." The price was paid and the tale told.
"Wussing your health, sirs," said the shepherd; and having taken off his glass, and observed the whisky was the right thing, he continued, "It's no for the like o' us to be judging, to be sure; but it was a bonny knowe that broomy knowe, and an unco braw shelter for the lambs in a severe morning like this."
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