face
blossomed into smiles. It was the secret thought of this, and of the
hillward outlook from the little windows, that had ironed the lines
from his face in Mr. Traill's dining-room. Bobby sniffed at the starved
plant, too, and wagged his tail with pleasure, for a dog's keenest
memories are recorded by the nose.

Overhead, loose tiles and finials rattled in the wind, that was dying
away in fitful gusts; but Auld Jock heard nothing. In fancy he was away
on the braes, in the shy sun and wild wet of April weather. Shepherds
were shouting, sheepdogs barking, ewes bleating, and a wee puppy, still
unnamed, scampering at his heels in the swift, dramatic days of lambing
time. And so, presently, when the forlorn hope of the little pot had
been restored to the ledge, master and dog were in tune with the open
country, and began a romp such as they often had indulged in behind the
byre on a quiet, Sabbath afternoon.

They had learned to play there like two well-brought-up children, in
pantomime, so as not to scandalize pious countryfolk. Now, in obedience
to a gesture, a nod, a lifted eyebrow, Bobby went through all his pretty
tricks, and showed how far his serious education had progressed.. He
rolled over and over, begged, vaulted the low hurdle of his master's
arm, and played "deid." He scampered madly over imaginary pastures;
ran, straight as a string, along a stone wall; scrambled under a thorny
hedge; chased rabbits, and dug foxes out of holes; swam a burn, flushed
feeding curlews, and "froze" beside a rat-hole. When the excitement was
at its height and the little dog was bursting with exuberance, Auld
Jock forgot his caution. Holding his bonnet just out of reach, he cried
aloud:

"Loup, Bobby!"

Bobby jumped for the bonnet, missed it, jumped again and barked-the
high-pitched, penetrating yelp of the terrier.

Instantly their little house of joy tumbled about their ears. There was
a pounding on the thin partition wall, an oath and a shout "Whaur's
the deil o' a dog?" Bobby flew at the insulting clamor, but Auld Jock
dragged him back roughly. In a voice made harsh by fear for his little
pet, he commanded:

"Haud yer gab or they'll hae ye oot."

Bobby dropped like a shot, cringing at Auld Jock's feet. The most
sensitive of four-footed creatures in the world, the Skye terrier is
utterly abased by a rebuke from his master. The whole garret was soon in
an uproar of vile accusation and shrill denial that spread from cell