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. 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. I ca'ed, an' Ailie keeked in ilka place amang the
stanes."
They stared at each other, the landlord serious, the laddie's lip
trembling. Mr. Traill had not returned from his numerous errands
about the city until the middle of the afternoon. He thought, of
course, that Bobby had been in for his dinner, as usual, and had
returned to the kirkyard. 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. In eight years and more Bobby had not been
outside the kirkyard gate after the sunset bugle. Mrs. Brown turned
pale.
"Dinna say the bittie dog's lost, Maister Traill. It wad gang to
the heart o' ma gudemon.
Pages:
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201