Get on the gude side of the bairns, man, and you'll live easier and die
happier."

It seemed useless to search the much longer arm of the kirkyard that ran
southward behind the shops of Greyfriars Place and Forest Road. If Bobby
was in the enclosure at all he would not be far from Auld Jock's grave.
Nearest the new-made mound were two very old and dark table-tombs. The
farther one lay horizontally, on its upright "through stanes," some
distance above the earth. The supports of the other had fallen, and the
table lay on their thickness within six inches of the ground. Mr. Traill
and the caretaker sat upon this slab, which testified to the piety and
worth of one Mistress Jean Grant, who had died "lang syne."

Encroached upon, as it was, by unlovely life, Greyfriars kirkyard was
yet a place of solitude and peace. The building had the dignity
that only old age can give. It had lost its tower by an explosion
of gunpowder stored there in war time, and its walls and many of the
ancient tombs bore the marks of fire and shot. Within the last decade
some of the Gothic openings had been filled with beautiful memorial
windows. Despite the horrors and absurdities and mutilation of much of
the funeral sculpturing, the kirkyard had a sad distinction, such as
became its fame as Scotland's Westminster. And, there was one heavenward
outlook and heavenly view. Over the tallest decaying tenement one could
look up to the Castle of dreams on the crag, and drop the glance all the
way down the pinnacled crest of High Street, to the dark and deserted
Palace of Holyrood. After nightfall the turreted heights wore a luminous
crown, and the steep ridge up to it twinkled with myriad lights. After a
time the caretaker offered a well-considered opinion.

"The dog maun hae left the kirkyaird. Thae terriers are aye barkin'.
It'd be maist michty noo, gin he'd be so lang i' the kirkyaird, an' no'
mak' a blatterin'."

As a man of superior knowledge Mr. Traill found pleasure in upsetting
this theory. "The Highland breed are no' like ordinar' terriers. Noisy
enough to deave one, by nature, give a bit Skye a reason and he'll lie
a' the day under a whin bush on the brae, as canny as a fox. You gave
Bobby a reason for hiding here by turning him out. And Auld Jock was a
vera releegious man. It would no' be surprising if he taught Bobby to
hold his tongue in a kirkyard."

"Man, he did that vera thing." James Brown brought his fist down on his
knee; for sudd