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Updated: June 29, 2025
And Nebbie, yawning extensively, and stretching himself a little more, closed his eyes in a rapture of peace, and stirred his tail slightly with one, two, three mild taps on the soft grass, when a sudden clear whistle caused him to spring up with every hair bristling on end, fore-paws well forward and eyes wide open. "Nebbie! Nebbie!"
"And still they whispered soft and low! Oh, I could not choose but go!" he hummed half under his breath, and then with a decided movement turned from the winding river towards the house. "No, Nebbie, it's no use," he said aloud, addressing his four-footed comrade, who thereupon got up reluctantly and began to trot pensively beside him "We mustn't be selfish.
Walden closed the gate after her with careful slowness, and returned across the lawn to his favourite seat under his favourite apple- tree. Nebbie followed him, disconsolately snuffing the ground in the trail of the departed Plato, who doubtless, to the smaller animal's mind, represented a sort of canine monarch who ruthlessly disdained the well-meaning attentions of his inferiors.
He sank into his accustomed chair and stared before him with unseeing eyes, -mechanically patting his dog Nebbie while gently pushing the animal back in its attempts to clamber on his knee. "My God, my God!" he muttered "What shall I do without her?" Someone opened the door again just then. He started, thinking that Forsyth had returned perhaps to tell him something he had forgotten.
Walden was smiling to himself, and his countenance was extremely pleasant. Nebbie, with the quaint conceit common to pet animals, imagined that the smile was produced specially for him, and continued his wild jumps and barks till his red tongue hung a couple of inches out of his mouth with excess of heat and enthusiasm. "Nebbie! Nebbie!" said the Reverend John, mildly; "Don't make such a noise!
More than an hour elapsed, and no living being entered the seclusion of the parson's garden save Nebbie, the parson's rough Aberdeen terrier, who, appearing suddenly at the open study-window, sniffed at the fair prospect for a moment, and then, stepping out with a leisurely air of proprietorship lay down on the grass in the full sunshine.
He sighed again, then smiled, and entered the house, Nebbie sedately following.
Nebbie was nothing if not thoroughbred, and the voice of his master was, despite all considerations of sleep and sunshine, to him as the voice of the commanding officer to a subaltern.
Bainton and Nebbie were left sole masters of the rectory and its garden, and both man and dog were depressed in spirits, and more or less restless and discontented.
Nebbie was waiting for him on the lawn, and greeted him with the usual effusiveness. He returned to his desk, and to the composition of his sermon, but his thoughts were inclined to wander.
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