He would
know nothing of the military music and flowers, the prayer of the
minister of Greyfriars auld kirk, the speech of the Lord Provost;
nothing of the happy tears of the Grand Leddy when a veil should
fall away from a little bronze dog that gazed wistfully through the
kirkyard gate, and water gush forth for the refreshment of men and
animals.
"Good-by, good-by, good-by, Bobby; most loving and lovable,
darlingest wee dog in the world!" she cried, and a shower of bright
drops and sweet little sounds fell on Bobby's tousled head. Then
the carriage of the Grand Leddy rolled away in the rainy dusk.
The hour-bell of St. Giles was rung, and the sunset bugle blown in
the Castle. It took Mr. Brown a long time to lift the wicket, close
the tall leaves and lock the gate. The wind was rising, and the air
hardening. One after one the gas lamps flared in the gusts that
blew on the bridge. The huge bulk of shadow lay, velvet black, in
the drenched quarry pit of the Grassmarket. The caretaker's voice
was husky with a sudden "cauld in 'is heid."
"Ye're an auld dog, Bobby, an' ye canna deny it. Ye'll juist hae to
sleep i' the hoose the misty nicht."
Loath to part with them, Bobby went up to the lodge with the old
couple and saw them within the cheerful kitchen. But when the door
was held open for him, he wagged his tail in farewell and trotted
away around the kirk. All the concession he was willing to make to
old age and bad weather was to sleep under the fallen table-tomb.
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