Besides, he had the liveliest interest in the astonishing little dog that grew and disappeared, and came back, in some new attitude, on the canvas.He scraped acquaintance with it once or twice to the damage of fresh brush-work.
He was always jumping from his pose and running around the easel to see how the latest dog was coming on.
After a number of mornings Bobby lost interest in the man and his occupation and went about his ordinary routine of life as if the artist was not there at all.One morning the wee terrier was found sitting on the table-tomb, on his haunches, looking up toward the Castle, where clouds and birds were blown around the sun-gilded battlements.
His attitude might have meant anything or nothing, for the man who looked at him from above could not see his expression.And all at once he realized that to see Bobby a human being must get down to his level.To the scandal of the children, he lay on his back on the grass and did nothing at all but look up at Bobby until the little dog moved.Then he set the wee Highlander up on an altar-topped shaft just above the level of the human eye.Indifferent at the moment as to what was done to him, Bobby continued to gaze up and out, wistfully and patiently, upon this masterless world.As plainly as a little dog could speak, Bobby said:
"I hae bided lang an' lanely.Hoo lang hae I still to bide? An' syne, wull Ibe gangin' to Auld Jock?"The Grand Leddy saw that at once, and tears started to her eyes when she came in to find the artist sketching with feverish rapidity.She confessed that she had looked into Bobby's eyes, but she had never truly seen that mourning little creature before.He had only to be set up so, in bronze, and looking through the kirkyard gate, to tell his own story to the most careless passerby.The image of the simple memorial was clear in her mind, and it seemed unlikely that anything could be added to it, when she left the kirkyard.
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.Stray pussies are about, too.I'm a gude-hearted man, and an unco' observant one, your Leddyship, but I was no' thinking that these animals must often suffer from thirst.""Few people do think of it.Most men can love some one dog or cat or horse and be attentive to its wants, but they take little thought for the world of dumb animals that are so dependent upon us.It is no special credit to you, Mr.
Traill, that you became fond of an attractive little dog like Bobby and have cared for him so tenderly."The landlord gasped.He had taken not a little pride in his stanch championship and watchful care of Bobby, and his pride had beer increased by the admiration that had been lavished on him for years by the general public.
Now, as he afterward confessed to Mr.Brown:
"Her leddyship made me feel I'd done naething by the ordinar', but maistly to please my ainsel'.Eh, man, she made me sing sma'."When the collie had finished drinking, he looked up gratefully, rubbed against the good Samaritans, waved his plumed tail like a banner, and trotted away.
After a thoughtful moment Lady Burdett-Coutts said:
"The suitable memorial here, Mr.Traill, is a fountain, with a low basin level with the curb, and a higher one, and Bobby sitting on an altar-topped central column above, looking through the kirkyard gate.It shall be his mission to bring men and small animals together in sympathy by offering to both the cup of cold water."She was there once again that year.On her way north she stopped in Edinburgh over night to see how the work on the fountain had progressed.It was in Scotland's best season, most of the days dry and bright and sharp.But on that day it was misting, and yellow leaves were dropping on the wet tombs and beaded grass, when the Grand Leddy appeared at the kirkyard late in the afternoon with a wreath of laurel to lay on Auld Jock's grave.
