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Updated: May 4, 2025
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." 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.
"I broucht a picnic wi' me." "Did ye, noo? An' hoo did ye ken aboot picnics, laddie?" "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?" "Ay, he's bonny.
"I'll rin doon for't," says he; "a'body's beddit. I'll juist rin doon, an' I'll bring up my umberell an' my hat at the same time, for fear they micht be liftit. You never can tell." Awa' doou the stairs he gaed in his lang nichtgoon, for a' the earth juist like some corp escapit frae the kirkyaird. He wasna a meenit oot when I dreedit something wud happen, an' I juist sat up tremblin' in the bed.
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." "Why, mannie, Bobby's no' here. He must be in the kirkyard." "Nae, he isna.
"Auld Jock's deid." Bobby stirred at that, and flattened out on the floor. "Ay, the lassie told that, an' I wad hae kenned it by the dog. He is greetin' by the ordinar'." "An' he's buried i' the kirkyaird o' auld Greyfriars." Ah, that fetched her! The gude wife dropped her knitting and stared at him.
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. "Come awa', Bobby. Ye canna be leevin' i' the kirkyaird." Bobby was of a different opinion.
Sandy remarked, "Ye wadna think, noo, sic a sonsie doggie wad be leevin' i' the murky auld kirkyaird." 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.
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