As she was getting into her carriage a noble collie, but one with a
discouraged tail and hanging tongue, came out of Forest Road. He
had done a hard morning's work, of driving a flock from the
Pentlands to the cattle and sheep market, and then had hunted far
and unsuccessfully for water. He nosed along the gutter, here and
there licking from the cobblestones what muddy moisture had not
drained away from a recent rain. The same lady who had fed the
carrots to the coster's donkey in London turned hastily into Ye
Olde Greyfriars Dining-Rooms, and asked Mr. Traill for a basin of
water. The landlord thought he must have misunderstood her. "Is it
a glass of water your Leddyship's wanting?"
"No, a basin, please; a large one, and very quickly."
She took it from him, hurried out, and set it under the thirsty
animal's nose. The collie lapped it eagerly until the water was
gone, then looked up and, by waggings and lickings, asked for more.
Mr. Traill brought out a second basin, and he remarked upon a
sheep-dog's capacity for water.
"It's no' a basin will satisfy him, used as he is to having a tam
on the moor to drink from. This neeborhood is noted for the dogs
that are aye passing. On Wednesdays the farm dogs come up from the
Grassmarket, and every day there are weel-cared-for dogs from the
residence streets, dogs of all conditions across the bridge from
High Street, and meeserable waifs from the Cowgate.
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