Traill's and for a noisy run about the neighborhood to
exercise his lungs and legs. On Wednesdays he haunted the
Grassmarket, sniffing at horses, carts and mired boots. Edinburgh
had so many shaggy little Skye and Scotch terriers that one more
could go about unremarked. Bobby returned to the kirkyard at his
own good pleasure. In the evening he was given a supper of
porridge and broo, or milk, at the kitchen door of the lodge, and
the nights he spent on Auld Jock's grave. The morning drum and
bugle woke him to the chase, and all his other hours were spent
in close attendance on the labors of the caretaker. The click of
the wicket gate was the signal for instant disappearance.
A scramble up the wall from Heriot's Hospital grounds, or the
patter of bare feet on the gravel, however, was notice to come
out and greet a friend. Bobby was host to the disinherited
children of the tenements. Now, at the tap-tap-tapping of Tammy
Barr's crutches, he scampered up the slope, and he suited his
pace to the crippled boy's in coming down again. Tammy chose a
heap of cut grass on which to sit enthroned and play king, a
grand new crutch for a scepter, and Bobby for a courtier. At
command, the little dog rolled over and over, begged, and walked
on his hind legs. He even permitted a pair of thin little arms to
come near strangling him, in an excess of affection. Then he
wagged his tail and lolled his tongue to show that he was
friendly, and trotted away about his business.
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