Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 4, 2025
His breathing was labored, and he muttered in his sleep. In a moment Mr. Traill was inside his own greatcoat, storm boots and bonnet. At the door he turned back. The shop was unguarded. Although Greyfriars Place lay on the hilltop, with the sanctuary of the kirkyard behind it, and the University at no great distance in front, it was but a step up from the thief-infested gorge of the Cowgate.
Traill had believed him to be so ill that he "wouldna be oot the morn." It was a staggering thought. The bells of St. Giles broke into "Over the Hills and Far Away." The melody came to Auld Jock clearly, unbroken by echoes, for the garret was on a level with the cathedral's crown on High Street.
It appeared, now, that no one about the diningrooms had seen the little dog. Everybody had thought that Mr. Traill had taken Bobby with him. He hurried down to the gate to find Mistress Jeanie at the wicket, and a crowd of tenement women and children in the alcove and massed down Candlemakers Row. Alarm spread like a contagion.
Traill and waited for the landlord's hand to be laid on his head and the man to say, in the dialect the little dog best understood: "Bide a wee. Ye're no' needin' to gang sae sune, laddie!" At that he dropped, barked politely, wagged his tail, and was off. If Mr.
Traill recalled that the longest life of a dog is no more than a fifth of the length of days allotted to man. On that snarling April day, when only himself and the flossy ball of sleeping Skye were in the place, this thought added to Mr. Traill's discontent. There had been few guests.
The gas-lamps were being lighted on the bridge, and Mr. Traill was getting into his streetcoat for his call on Mr. Brown when Tammy put his head in at the door of the restaurant. The crippled laddie had a warm, uplifted look, for Love had touched the sordid things of life, and a miracle had bloomed for the tenement dwellers around Greyfriars. "Maister Traill, Mrs.
Ailie herself, an untrained lassie who scarcely knew the use of a toasting-fork, was overpaid by generous Mr. Traill at sixpence a day. Seven shullings to permit one little dog to live! It did not occur to Ailie that this was a sum Mr. Traill could easily pay. No' onybody at all had seven shullings all at once!
"I'll just tak' the dog with me, Mr. Brown. On marketday I'll find the farmer that owns him and send him hame. As you say, a kirkyard's nae place for a dog to be living neglected. Come awa', Bobby." Bobby looked up, but, as he made no motion to obey, Mr. Traill stooped and lifted him. From sheer surprise at this unexpected move the little dog lay still a moment on the man's arm.
Traill had commended his capture of prowlers in the dining-room. But Bobby was "ower young" and had not been "put to the vermin" as a definite business in life. He caught a rat, now and then, as he chased rabbits, merely as a diversion. When he had caught this one he lay down again. But after a time he got up deliberately and trotted down to the encircling line of old courtyarded tombs.
A doctor is the last resort of the unlettered poor. The very threat of one to the Scotch peasant of a half-century ago was a sentence of death. Auld Jock blanched, and he shook so that he dropped his spoon. Mr. Traill hastened to undo the mischief. "It's no' a doctor ye'll be needing, ava, but a bit dose o' physic an' a bed in the infirmary a day or twa." "I wullna gang to the infairmary.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking