- (BAGPIPE MUSIC PLAYS) - (SHEEP BLEATING)
For best IPTV provider, please visit: WWW.IPTV.CAT For best IPTV provider, please visit: WWW.IPTV.CAT
NARRATOR: This is the true story of a dog
who lived almost a century ago.
For best IPTV provider, please visit: WWW.IPTV.CAT For best IPTV provider, please visit: WWW.IPTV.CAT
His monument stands in Scotland's capital city of Edinburgh to this day
commemorating his devotion to an old man whom he loved in life
and guarded for 14 years after death had parted them.
He made happier the lives of a whole generation of children who knew him.
This is his story.
(MAN WHISTLING)
(BOBBY BARKING)
(SHEEP BLEATING)
(COUGHING)
(DOG BARKING)
Jock, where's Bobby? Will you listen to his barking?
- Good morning to you, master. - Morning, Jock.
Bobby's in the barn hunting rats, Elsie.
Go and get him, Elsie, and take him into the house.
He'll not come for anybody but Old Jock, father.
Aye, he'll come for me.
JOCK: Bobby! (WHISTLING)
Down, Bobby.
Aye, ye come to me as if ye belong to me.
But you know well he's yours, Elsie,
if you take a wee bit of trouble with him.
Ah, Bobby boy. Shall I give you some breakfast, eh?
Aye, do that, lassie.
Well, Jock, are you ready to go now?
Aye. I have my things.
It wasn't a bad year for the lambing, master.
- I can see that. - No.
And young master Wattie has learned the way of it now.
Aye. You taught him well enough.
(BOBBY BARKING)
Elsie, take Bobby into the house, will ye?
Jock and me are away to Edinburgh.
- To the market. - (BOBBY WHINING)
Whist, laddie! You're not coming this time.
Go with your mistress and hold your noise.
Giyup there. Wattie! Open up the gate, will ye?
Come on, boy. Ho.
Come on, boy. Come on.
(BOBBY WHINING)
Elsie, put him in Jock's old seat in the corner.
Maybe he'll keep quiet there and stop his grieving.
(BOBBY WHINING)
Mother?
Why did Old Jock not take Bobby to the market with him?
Give him a bowl of broth. Keep him quiet.
Is Bobby really my own dog now,
- to do what I like with? - Aye.
- He's yours. - And Old Jock will not mind it?
Bobby! Come back!
Bobby, where you going? Bobby, come back!
Bobby! Bobby! Come back!
Bobby! Bobby! Wattie, stop him!
Stop him, Wattie!
Bobby, come back. Bobby! You naughty dog! Come back!
(COUGHING)
Jock, I'm no' happy about you goin' from Cauldbrae.
You know that.
Aye. I'm not happy myself, master.
Well, times are very hard, Jock. I just cannot afford ye, that's all.
I'm no' blamin' ye, master.
I been a shepherd now for 60 years.
It will no' be so hard to find another place.
I did no' tell the bairns you wouldn't be coming home with me.
- I could no' tell them. - No.
It would serve no purpose.
Giyup, boy.
(CHURCH BELLS TOLLING)
MAN: Hello there!
- (CLOCK CHIMES) - (CANNON FIRES)
Steady, boy.
I'm a minute slow by gun time.
How do you folk here ever get used to the crack of it?
My head nearly jumped off my neck.
I'd like to pay you for two weeks, Jock.
I'll not take a shilling I haven't earned.
Well, if you want.
There's no more to be said. Thank you.
- I'll be goin' on my way. - Aye.
Good-bye then, Jock.
Good luck to you.
(CHILDREN GIGGLING)
Giyup.
GIRL: Come on, you silly boy. Let's go.
(CHILDREN LAUGHING)
You little imp! Go on. Get down there. Get down!
- Get out of here! - (HOWLING)
You did no' have to glare at me, Mr. Traill.
Glare at the dog,
jumpin' on my lap and howling like a banshee.
You're in his master's usual place for dinner on market day.
What's wrong, Bobby?
You're usually here bang on time with the one o'clock gun.
And you're all muddy and panting, laddie.
Where's Old Jock?
- (WHINING) - No.
Old Jock's not here, Bobby. Go find him.
I'd take my hand to the wee dog for dirtying me like that.
If I put my hand to everyone that dirties up the place,
I'd have my work cut out, I'm thinkin'.
Have you seen, any of you, the old shepherd body
from Cauldbrae, Old Jock, in the market today?
Aye, just after time gun, but I have no' seen him since.
It's the first time in years he has no' come to me for his dinner.
Yet his wee dog was here.
- BOY: Give it back! No? - (CHILDREN CHATTERING)
Get away!
- (GRUNTS) Get away! - (WOMAN SCOLDING)
(CHILDREN CHATTERING)
(THUNDERCLAP)
Bobby!
How did you get here?
You should no' be with me.
You should be home.
You should be home at Cauldbrae, laddie.
You'll have the wee Elsie grievin' for you.
(MEN GRUMBLING)
(SINGING DRUNKENLY)
Have a wee drink. Come on.
- At least have a drink. - (BOBBY SNARLING)
(INDISTINCT HOLLERING)
(BOBBY BARKING)
- (BARKING CONTINUES) - That sounds like Bobby.
JOCK: Aye, I'm coming.
I'm not staying in the kirkyard yet.
Just give me a chance to get my breath.
You're as great a scold
- as the wife I never had. - (BOBBY BARKING)
- Is that you, Bobby? - (BOBBY BARKING)
Here. What is it, Bobby? Did you find...
So you found him. All right, laddie, I'm coming.
Jock! Jock, man, what ails ye?
Man, you're sick. And you're wet too. Here.
Come on. Come over to my place. Give me your arm.
Come on, Jock.
Take off your coat and plaid and set down here by the fire.
Here. Give me the bag.
- Here. - Aye, I'm wet.
- It's a misty night. - Misty?
It's raining like a torrent. And ye call it misty!
I'm tellin' ye, if Noah himself had been a lowland Scot,
he'd have said the deluge flooding the world was just...
Just fair wet.
And was not the deluge fair wet, Mr. Traill?
- Have you had your supper yet, man? - No, no' yet.
But don't bother yourself, Mr. Traill.
I'm bothered as it is
so do not make it worse by arguing.
And you, Bobby, stop that.
I'm no' in need of a shower in the house, thank ye,
nor yet a pattern of dirty feet.
-(WHINING) Aye, he's talking to you.
Here now. Eat!
You were always a hospitable man, Mr. Traill.
And pray, how many market days
have you spent your sixpence eating here?
I'm thinking of nothing more
than to warm you up so you'll be coming here again.
Now, do no' thank me for that!
You're fortunate that that's a very intelligent wee dog you have.
He was here at the time gun searching for you.
(COUGHING)
Man, you're ill.
You're very ill.
Now, you stay here and eat your food.
- I'll go and get a doctor for ye. - No! I'll not see a doctor.
Man, you're in need of a dose of physic and a bed in the infirmary
for a day or two, until you're right again.
No!
The infirmary's for poor people that are dying.
No man leaves the infirmary alive.
Jock, that's no' true.
I go there myself if I so much as cut my finger.
I let any student laddie bind it up for me.
That only proves you're soft. But not me!
All right. All right. Now, calm yourself.
Nobody's gonna make you do what you don't wish.
Now, eat your broth.
Bobby. Bobby, come here.
Bobby! Where are ye?
Ah! He's over at my library in the corner there.
He's so smart he likes to read.
JOCK: No, he can't read, Mr. Traill.
I can't read myself.
That's a lot of books you've got there, Mr. Traill.
You must be a very serious man.
Aye. I am that.
And books are wife and bairns to me,
and as good company as that wee beast is to yourself.
Here, Bobby.
I'm thinkin' you've not had very much to eat today yourself, laddie.
Here. There.
He's a good wee beast, this Bobby of yours.
You must be very proud of him.
Aye, but he's not my own dog.
- He's not mine at all. - Man, he's fair fond of you.
A dog chooses his own master.
Aye, but he can't choose. He's got to go home.
I can't say it won't be sad parting, but he's got to go.
I must get word to Cauldbrae
so they can come and take him home.
Bobby,
now you lie still there and mind Old Jock.
I have to fetch the doctor to him.
I'm all right. I'm quite well.
Don't let a doctor see me.
You're very sick, Jock. It's the only thing!
Now, you stay here.
They'll not take me to the infirmary.
Come on, Bobby.
(BOBBY WHIMPERING)
(BOBBY BARKING)
- What am I to do with you, laddie? - (BOBBY BARKING)
I can get a lodging in here,
But the old woman that runs it will not take a dog.
JOCK: What's that you're saying?
Aye, you're a canny wee dog. You're right.
I've carried newborn lambs in the pocket of my Plaidie,
so why not you, eh?
(CHUCKLING) Very well. In you go, laddie.
(COUGHING)
I want a bed for the night if you have one free.
- Free, is it? - No. No, I didn't mean it that way.
- Ah. - I've been here before, you know.
So you have, so you have.
I mind you. You're the one they call Old Jock.
Here's the money for my bed.
And a farthing for the light.
All right. (COUGHS)
(CLEARS THROAT)
Is the front room at the very top of the stairs got anybody in it?
No, no. Nobody there.
- (COUGHING) - That cough you have.
If you wake your neighbors with it, you'll need to fight it out for yourself.
(COUGHING) I know all about that.
(SNORING)
(GROANING)
Whist now, laddie. Ye may well smell rats in here, but...
Shhh!
We're above the old city smell up here.
It was worth the climb, eh, Bobby?
I left a wee something here a few months back.
Aye! It's here yet.
A posy of heather, laddie.
And not dead.
You can almost smell the moors in it.
Can you not?
What do you say, Bobby? Will we pretend we're out there now?
Come on then. Beg for your supper.
That's it. A good laddie.
Ho. Down now, down.
Up, boy. (LAUGHING) Good, good.
Die for your country. Die for your country now.
Ya, that's a good laddie.
(JOCK LAUGHING)
Ho! Jump!
(BOBBY BARKING)
Loup! Loup! (CHUCKLING)
- Who's that dog in there? - (BOBBY BARKING)
MAN: What's makin' all that noise up here?
(CLAMORING)
Shh! Laddie. What's all the noise about?
Shh. I thought I heard a dog myself!
- (LOW GROWL) - Quiet, or they'll throw you out.
(CLAMORING CONTINUES)
In the devil's name, hold your row,
or I'll fetch the constable to you!
I'll not hear you fightin' in my house. Hold your row!
(COUGHING)
You see what an old fool Old Jock is?
I have a bible for my comfort, and I cannot read.
My father gave it to me when he lay dyin' in his croft.
It's the only thing I've got.
A book I cannot read.
- And... a fool dog that's not my own. - (WHINES)
I must get to sleep now.
And you, too, laddie.
Lie quiet now.
(CHURCH BELLS TOLLING)
- Good day, Mr. Traill. - Good day to you.
Did any of you find anything out about that old shepherd yet?
He has no' been found and taken to the infirmary,
or to the lockup. I know for certain.
Well, I did no' understand it. He can no' have gone far.
And I'm fair worried about him. But I tell ye,
if ye see a wee bit of a Skye terrier running loose,
the old man will no' be far away, so keep your eyes open.
- Ach, I've got better things to do. - And so have I!
And I pay my taxes where your wages come from,
- so mind your manners! - Ach, yes, si...
- BOTH: Good morning, Mr. Traill. - Good morning, laddie.
Here. Just a minute.
If you see a wee Skye terrier, a wee gray dog anywhere near Cowgate
or the market, come and tell me, and I'll give ye both a penny.
- A penny? A whole penny? - Each?
Aye. But off you go, away with you. See what you can find.
Here, how many more is there up there?
Is there more of you still skulking up there?
Well, do no' forget I can charge ye the whole day
If you're still there at the time gun!
Do you no' hear me?
(WHINING)
Are ye in there?
- Old Jock? - (BANGING ON DOOR)
Can you no' hear me?
Were ye that sick?
Hey, some of ye down there! Any of ye! Go and get the police.
Go on with ye! Run! Go on! Run!
He died of pneumonia,
and of being old and just plain worn out.
You see? The old man dies a natural death.
Nobody's harmed him. He's not even been robbed.
- Hold your noise, woman. - Ah.
It's something strange to find a decent old country body
in a foul place like this.
This is a clean, respectable house.
DOCTOR: Who was he?
Old Jock. He'd no name but that.
His name was John Grey.
Well, there's enough here to give him a decent burial.
He'll no' have a pauper's grave.
Right. I'll see to it.
There's no' enough to hire a carriage, or even a cart,
so he'll have to rest in the kirkyard that is nearest.
Now clear out this room, all of you.
Uh, not you, Campbell.
What's that dog doin' here?
Whose dog is it? The old man's?
- No. No, he didn't have any dog. - Aye, he did so.
- Ach... - I heard the dog barkin' in the night.
Aye, that's true. There was a dog barking.
Then it's my duty to take him to the police station.
He's got no collar, and for all I know,
no license.
Come here now, my laddie.
(SOMBER MUSIC PLAYS)
PRIEST: "'I am the resurrection and the life, ' said the Lord.
"'he that believeth in Me, though he were dead,
"'yet shall he live.
"'whosoever liveth and believeth in Me shall never die.'
"We therefore commit his body to the ground.
"earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust,
"which thy well-beloved son shall then pronounce
"on all that love and fear Thee, saying:
"'Come ye, blessed of my father, inherit the kingdom
"'prepared for you from the foundation of the world.'
"Grant this, we beseech Thee, o merciful Fa...
"through Jesus Christ, our mediator and redeemer. Amen."
Amen.
- Good night to ye both. - Good night.
BROWN: It's past time for lockin' up.
(WHINING)
What are you doin' there?
Be off with you! Go home. Go on!
A kirkyard's no place for a dog.
There now. Go on with you. Go on home. Out of here!
Dogs in a Kirkyard. Go on! Away with you!
(GROWLS)
(GATE CLOSES)
(HISSING)
- (CAT SCREECHING) - (BOBBY BARKING)
Ailie! Ailie!
- What is it? - There's the dog Mr. Traill's lookin' for.
- Where? - There!
Come on and catch him, and we'll get a penny.
(LOW GROWL)
(BOBBY BARKING)
- (CLOCK CHIMES) - (CANNON FIRES)
(CHILDREN CHATTERING)
BOY: There he is, Ailie. Run! Do no' lose him now, Ailie. Run!
- Thank you. - Hope you enjoyed it.
- Aye. - Aye. Thank you.
- What do you think you're doing? - Oh, out of my way.
Mr. Traill. Mr. Traill? We found the wee dog.
Where have ye been, Bobby?
Did the time gun bring you for your dinner?
Where's Old Jock, laddie?
- (WHINING) - What have ye done with him?
(WHINING)
Whisht, Bobby, Whisht.
What is it then? Is it Old Jock?
- Well, where is he? - Mr. Traill, do we no' get the penny?
Later, child, later. Do no' bother me now.
What's a dog doin' in here, anyway?
Throw him out. He's shakin' with sickness.
No, man, he's hungry. And an old customer.
Which is more than ye are yourself.
Out ye go. Come on, now. Get out.
Here, Bobby. Come on, now. What about eating, eh?
- Did you get the penny, Ailie? - No. No penny.
I wish I knew where ye came from, Bobby, and where ye left your master.
(CHURCH BELLS TOLLING)
- (CLOCK CHIMES) - Now then, Bobby,
be a good dog, and let's go and find Old Jock, eh, laddie?
Here, Bobby! Wait! Here!
You want to lead me through the old Kirkyard, laddie?
Wait. The gate's no' locked yet. It's only latched.
Who's that at the gate?
Mr. Traill.
What in the world are you doing prowling about the Kirkyard?
It's time for lockin' up.
- I followed a wee dog here, Mr. Brown. - Dog?
There's no dog here. It is no' permitted.
I just let him in myself.
- You let a dog in the Kirkyard? - Aye.
Eh, then I'll have the law on ye!
You're supposed to be such a learned man.
Can you no' read the regulations?
Those regulations are no' the law of the land, James Brown,
and well ye know it. You made up those rules yourself.
I'll have no dog in Greyfriars Kirkyard.
You know that! Yours or anybody else's!
The dog is no' mine.
But I'll make a bargain with ye.
I'll take him home with me,
and you can keep your regulations.
Uh-huh. And I will, too.
I caught and put out one dog last night, and he's no' been back.
And I'll catch this one, too, mind ye.
Come on.
Now then, you go that way, and I'll go here.
BROWN: Here, dog.
Here. Where are ye? Dog!
Here, dog. Here.
(CLICKING TONGUE) Here now.
- Bobby. - BROWN: Dog!
- Ailie! - Who's there?
- Whisht! - Mr. Traill, it's you.
- The wee dog that was at my place. - ALLIE: Aye.
And Tammy and me chased him there. And you didn't give us our penny.
Whisht, Ailie! Now, listen to me a minute.
- For a penny I'll listen. - TRAILL: For a silver shilling, listen.
A shilling?
If you see the wee dog again...
And he's not far away, I'm thinkin'...
Call him "Bobby" and fetch him to me.
- You or any of you bairns. - Aye.
And the one that brings him will get a silver shilling.
Have ye taken leave of your senses?
Now I'll have every bairn in the neighborhood
climbing all over my kirkyard.
And half of them are like wild beasties as it is.
- No' with me, they're not. - No, because you're soft with 'em.
I'm no' soft with any living thing.
A bairn's like a dog in many ways.
You take a stick to one or the other and he'll misbehave the worse.
The bairns around here are poor and neglected.
But they're no' vicious.
You get on the right side of them, man, and you'll live easier.
Wait a minute. You say there was a dog here yesterday?
Aye, with a funeral. And creeping about here afterwards.
- Whose funeral? - An old man named John Grey.
Dead of pneumonia in a lodging house at Cowgate.
Pneumonia? Aye, that'd be it.
Aye, and carried here by such a bunch of gaolbirds
as you never did see. And no mourners.
John Grey you say his name was.
I knew him as Old Jock.
And if the wee dog was with him, he had a mourner, all right.
Poor old man. I drove him to his death.
- What are ye saying, man? - He came to me sick.
I told him he should be in the infirmary
and went for a doctor to make him go. But he went away,
an old sick man in the rain.
- Where's he buried? - Over here.
That's where they laid him down.
- (WHINING) - What's that?
- BROWN: Here now. Come! Come! - Bobby.
- Here, laddie. Come here. - BROWN: you hiding.
Ah. There.
Come out now. I'll fi...
Ah, you have him, huh?
That's the dog I put out before.
Aye. The old man was his master.
Be that as it may, the dog is no' staying in my kirkyard.
And might I remind you it's past time for lockin' up.
Can he no' bide here till he's claimed?
No, he cannot. It's against the regulations.
Then you put him out. You and your regulations.
For I can no'.
Good night to ye, Mr. Brown.
(BOBBY YELPING, BARKING)
There. Now he's out.
And good night and good riddance to the pair of ye.
(WHINING)
Jamie, what on earth were ye doin' out there in the dark, man?
- Administering the law. - Oh.
And what James brown says in Greyfriars Kirkyard is the law.
Now what are we gonna do, laddie?
Ye can no' get in there now. It's locked.
You might as well face up to the fact: You can no' get in.
Why don't you come home with me, laddie? I'm not a bad man to live with.
Will you no' come?
(BOBBY BARKING)
What's all the disturbance about?
- Quiet! Quiet! - Whisht, Bobby, Whisht!
Mr. Traill, have ye taken to a dog at your time of life?
- I would, if he'd only take to me. - Then keep him in order.
How do ye expect my, uh,
customers to read enough to satisfy their examiners,
if they're disturbed by all this barking?
- Whisht. - You'll stop that dog's noise
or I'll send for the police.
- (BARKING CONTINUES) - Geordie Ross!
Yes, Mr. Traill?
Geordie, I have a problem.
Would you like to earn a sixpence?
- A sixpence? Aye, I would. - Then it's yours...
If ye know a way to smuggle this wee dog into the kirkyard yonder.
- And never mind why. - Well, there might be a way.
- And you're the man who knows how. - Aye.
Give me the sixpence.
- (WHINING) - Aye,
ye like me now you're gettin' your way, don't ye?
Here. And, Geordie,
If ye say a word about this to anyone,
I'll gi' you a good lickin'.
Ach, I will no' tell, Mr. Traill. I'll be very discreet.
- And that's the whole story. - Dear.
Nay dog will be permitted in Greyfriars Kirkyard
as long as I'm caretaker here.
(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
Well, good afternoon, mister. There's not much left to eat, I'm afraid.
- It's after 2:30. - I've had my dinner.
I'm, uh... I'm lookin' for a dog, and I was directed here.
- A dog? - Aye.
I'm from Cauldbrae, and the dog belongs to my bairn.
He ran away to follow an old shepherd body that used to work for me.
- Old Jock? - Aye. You knew him?
Where is he? It was no' right of him to win that dog away from my bairn.
Old Jock's dead, mister.
- Dead? - Aye, of pneumonia.
And buried these four days since in old Greyfriars Kirkyard.
Greyfriars?
Well, that's o'er grand for a shepherd body, isn't it?
Aye, but no' so grand as heavenly.
Oh, poor Old Jock.
I shouldn't have let him go, but I had no choice.
I-I didn't realize he was that sick, mister.
- If I had known... - Well, he's dead.
Maybe there's others to blame.
The wee dog's been here every day since.
He's over in the corner there sleeping off his dinner.
Oh, aye, that's Bobby, all right.
And here, that's Jock's Plaidie he's sleepin' on.
I bought it from the keeper of the lodging house he died in.
He looks well-fed too.
You've been very good to him, mister.
- If you think I was aimin' to keep... - Oh, you could, mister,
if it was up to me, but my bairn is grievin' her heart out for him.
Oh. Well, it's best he should go, in any case.
He'll have none of me. Ach, he eats here,
but he lives in the old kirkyard where he's no' permitted
But that hard to catch.
- Ah, take him away. - Aye, I'll take him.
He'll have a home.
Better hold him close. He'll no' like goin'.
-Come on, Bobby. It's me, it's me. -(GROWLING)
- (WHINING) - Thank you, mister.
(BOBBY GROWLING, BARKING)
Here.
Wrap him in the Plaidie. It'll hold him firm and keep him quiet.
(BARKING STOPS)
And take him now. I'm busy.
- Hi, Wattie. - Hi.
- Giyup. Go on. - Did you find Bobby, father?
Aye, I've got him here in the cart.
Whoa, boy. Whoa.
- Take him away, Wattie. - Right, father.
Just you settle down in here, laddie. That's right.
Now make him a bed out of that straw, Elsie. That's right.
- Underneath there. - Poor Bobby.
But bide here, and I'll come for you in the morning.
Aye. You'll have to feed him.
And lead him on a rope for a wee while.
But just leave him in here until he's used to it, eh?
Now come on, lassie.
Bye-bye, Bobby.
Now you've got Bobby back. Away to bed.
Here, lassie. Take Jessie with you.
- Off you go now. Go on. - Good night, Father.
Good night, Mother.
Did you find him with Old Jock?
No. Old Jock is dead.
- Dead? - Aye.
Dead of pneumonia, poor old soul.
But you know what? He's buried in Greyfriars itself.
Old Jock among the lairds and ladies?
That's over-grand for him.
Well, his grave's nigh to the martyrs' monument.
And you know, wee Bobby there slept on it every night.
And hid from the caretaker, too, for it's strictly forbidden.
(CHUCKLES) Oh, he's got no respect for the law.
(BOBBY SNIFFING)
(NEIGHING)
(NICKERING)
(NEIGHING)
(CLOCK CHIMES)
(LOCK CLICKS)
(BIRDS CHIRPING)
(SQUEAKING)
(GROWLING, SNIFFING)
(BOBBY BARKING)
It's that dog. And how did he get back?
I'll put a stop to this. John Traill told me a wicked lie.
- Mr. Traill? - Aye, he did.
He said the dog had been took away.
(BOBBY BARKING)
So there you are.
So you're back. And how did you get back?
And don't be lookin' so pleased with yourself.
You're breakin' the law of trespass.
You hear him?
And look at him. All mud and tangled hair.
Like an old fishwife from Cowgate itself.
And just as useless.
No' useless, Jamie. See what he's done?
Four great rats he's killed.
You're a brave wee dog.
- Oh, laddie! Look at that. - He's going out.
And staying out, if I have to take him to the police myself.
He's killed his own weight in vermin.
Look here, and over there too.
And you know well how they pester the kirk.
Aye. I'm no' saying he's no' a bonny fighter.
But he's still breakin' the law.
And there's only one thing to do with him.
Aye. There is only one thing to do.
And we'll do it right now. We'll give him a good wash.
A good wash?
Have you taken leave of your senses, woman?
I'll do no such thing.
And when he's dry, Jamie Brown, he'll be needing his breakfast.
He looks fair thin.
Breakfast now, is it? A bit of liver and suchlike, no doubt.
And a serving maid to wait on him.
Oh, hold your grumbling, man. I'll get him some scraps.
There now. Stop your strugglin'.
A trespasser. That's what you are.
No dogs permitted. That's the rule. Mind ya that.
Huh! You'll no' beguile me,
because, doggie, you're going out. Out!
That's where you're goin'.
He's a bonny wee thing. Ya cannot deny that, Jamie.
I was wishing you did no' have to send him away.
I have my duty to the minister and the kirk authorities.
And I will no' discuss the matter.
Ach! There's no rule against his living here with us.
With us?
Woman, I'll have no dog in my house.
He'd be company for me. For us, Jamie.
Ach, man. You used to say yourself years ago
that a dog could be as much company as a bairn.
Aye. And make just as much noise.
(GRUMBLES) Bobby, come here. I have work to do.
There you go.
Ach.
Ach. You're no' beguiling me. No.
Now then. There you are. Rat killin' and all.
Look now. "No dogs permitted" is the rule.
So out you go. Away with ya.
Run along. Go on with ya! Aye.
Come along, girls.
And this, girls, is Greyfriars Kirkyard,
the last resting place of many distinguished people
who have helped to shape the history of Scotland.
- Open the gates, caretaker. - Aye.
And mind, girls, no' to tread on the grass.
Aye. Back a wee bit then.
Ah. And good riddance.
- (CHILDREN CHATTERING) - AILIE: Jessie, Hamish, where ya going?
- TAMMY: Ailie, come quickly. - What is it?
It's the wee dog.
(OVERLAPPING CONVERSATION)
Ah! It's him, I think.
- TAMMY: he looks clean and brushed. - AILIE: but it's him all right.
He won't be very easy to catch when Mr. Brown's around.
No, we'll never catch him.
Whisht! All of ya!
Mr. Traill will give us a shilling if we do.
Now remember, he told Ailie. So listen here to me.
I'll go to the front gate and keep Mr. Brown talking
while you all climb the wall and catch the wee dog.
- Thank you, caretaker. - You're welcome, ma'am.
- Good day. - Good day, ma'am.
Good mornin', Mr. Brown.
What do you want?
I was wonderin' why the gates are closed today.
No lock, but closed.
To keep out bairns and dogs that make a disturbance.
I don't know what you're up to,
but do no' hang around my gates.
I want no bairns from the tenements in my Kirkyard.
- I will no' have them. - Aye, I can see that.
Catch him, Ailie!
- (INDISTINCT SHOUTING) - (BOBBY BARKING)
Here. Out of here!
(BOBBY BARKING)
Out of there, all of ya!
How did that dog get in here? Come on.
Oh, my goodness! Out!
I never... Aye, you're a lot of blackguards.
TRAILL: Come away in. It is no' locked.
- We brought you the wee dog, Mr. Traill. - Aye, we caught him.
- But where did ya find it? - He was sittin' in the kirkyard.
He wasn't hiding. He was sittin' there on a stool.
- Like he was livin' there. - You told Ailie to bring him here.
How did ya get back, Bobby? And when?
And, man, you're all clean and brushed.
Can it be you're no' hungry? Shall we see?
Do we get the shilling, Mr. Traill?
- ALL CHILDREN: Yes! The shilling! - In a minute.
Mr. Traill must be very, very rich, Tammy.
- Here. Bobby. - Aye.
Now, Bobby, come on. Here.
There.
I said a shilling for finding him,
And a shilling it is. Amongst six of ya,
it's a tuppence each.
He's givin' the wee dog chicken to eat.
Real chicken?
To a wee dog.
Ailie, go and lock the street doors.
Aye, lock them. I'm no' open for customers yet.
I was gonna have my own dinner first.
And as I can't eat alone, we'll have a picnic.
What's a picnic? Isn't that some kind of a cake?
No, laddie. It's...
Well, when you have a whole lot to eat and ya share it.
Picnics are for summer
- when ya eat outdoors. - TRAILL: No, Tammy!
It's like I said.
You can have a picnic at any time at all.
Here. I'll show you.
Oh, I've forgotten yours.
Here. There you are. Go on! Into the kitchen.
(CHILDREN CHATTERING)
Do no' stand there with your mouths open.
Serve six dishes of the chicken stew
on the corner table there. Aye.
Mr. Traill's got so much dinner he can't eat it all himself.
Come on now. Set yourselves down.
And mind your manners. Come on, Tammy.
Ailie, pass the bread.
Chicken! Jings! I've never eaten it.
Ah, Bobby! You've finished. You're just in time to join the picnic.
(SLURPING)
Malcolm!
I said mind your manners.
Tammy, say grace.
For what we are about to receive... (MUMBLES) Amen.
- I didn't hear you. - I was no' speakin' to you.
Eat.
Tammy, it's just like the tales ya make up in your head.
- Aye, it is. - Does he make up tales?
- Aye. And he can read too. - Can he now?
Aye. And he makes up tales all the time.
Like how he saves the queen from drowning,
and we all get invited to a great banquet at her castle in Balmoral
- and... - Oh, stop it, will you?
- It's just foolishness, Mr. Traill. - Aye.
And about him having grown two new legs to run about on.
Foolishness like that.
Tammy, we shall have to take you to the infirmary.
I've many good friends there, doctors that eat here.
If they canno' give ya new legs,
they can give ya a pair of crutches that are the next best thing
and no' like these. Eh, Bobby?
Come on, Bobby. We're no' wanted here.
Get on with your work.
Have ya ever had bread that's soft like this and not hard?
Well, I'm glad you came back, Bobby.
Though I don't know how you did it.
And I wish you'd stay with me.
I'm not a bad man to live with.
And I'm sick and tired of livin' alone.
- I even envy Old Jock... - (WHINES)
for having someone to grieve over his going.
You think I'm a fool, don't ya? Well, everybody knows that.
(CHURCH BELLS TOLLING)
- (CLOCK CHIMES) - (CANNON FIRES)
Ah. That's no' so bad.
You're somethin' foolish yourself, laddie.
He's no' coming. He's no' comin' anymore.
(CLOCK CHIMES)
(BOBBY BARKING)
I'm no' heedin' ye.
You're a fool dog.
You've good fire and good company.
And it's bitter cold out there.
MAN: Stop that noise down there!
TRAILL: All right. All right.
But you're a pest of a dog.
Now I'll have to go with ya to the kirkyard.
You'll no' get in there now. It's locked.
(GATE CLOSES)
(GRUNTS) So you've come back.
Eh, you can wag your fool tail.
Keeping me waiting here in the cold.
Ach, well... come in, ya wee fool.
Eh.
Good evening, Mr. Brown.
I thought there was a strict regulation
against dogs in the kirkyard.
Aye, there is.
And the dog will sleep in my house the night,
if that concerns you.
He'll no' sleep in anybody's house.
No' in yours maybe.
But my wife, Jeanie, has taken a fancy to the dog.
- And he to us. - Ha!
Aye. We found him this morning all covered with mud and tired out.
We washed him, and he's grateful.
And I feed him.
Ah, and ya bring him back into the kirkyard at night in the cold.
And against the law.
The wee dog is sleeping in my house the night and every night.
And you've no need to bother feeding him anymore, Mr. Traill.
The wee dog has turned to us.
So good night to ya.
(GROWLS)
Bobby! Here! Where're ya off to? Come here, boy!
- Ah, so there ye are. - (BOBBY BARKS)
Now, you come to my house, or out you go.
Ya canno' be living there.
I told you that.
If ya come into the house, you can sleep before the fire.
But you canno' sleep here, laddie.
You see, I'll lose my job.
Ah, thank ya, Bobby. That's a good boy.
Because I want ya to come to the house.
-(GROWLS) -Whisht! Whisht! Hold your tongue!
(GRUNTS) Ya never know who your friends are.
Man or dog.
Jamie, are ya there?
Has the wee dog come back?
Aye, he's come back.
But no' to us.
(WHISTLING)
(WHISTLES)
(BOBBY BARKING)
Come on, Bobby. That's a good boy.
(BOBBY BARKING)
Is there no' one of you bairns can leave my dog alone?
He's not your dog, Mr. Brown.
He lives here!
He's at Mr. Traill's as much as here,
and out playin' with us even more than that.
Bobby's a very independent dog.
Ah! More big words, is it?
They tell me that you're now at Heriot's Grand School.
(SCOFFS) A boy like you from the tenements.
Aye. Mr. Traill persuaded the master there to take me.
Mr. Traill does a mighty lot of interfering
into other people's affairs, if you ask me.
And why would he want to get a bairn like you into such a fine school?
Well, he said my legs will never be any good
so I have to learn to make a living with my head.
Ah, well...
Well, then, don't waste your time playin' with dogs.
Be off with ya!
- (CHILDREN CHATTERING) - (WHISTLING)
Tammy, bring Bobby out to play!
- Aye, I'll bring him. - Whisht! Whisht!
This is a Kirkyard. Have ya no respect,
- ya young heathen? - Just goin', Mr. Brown.
(WHISTLES)
And remember I don't want you bringin' that dog back
covered with mud to foul my kitchen.
BROWN: Did ya hear me?
(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)
There's Bobby.
- Are ya comin' today with us? - (OVERLAPPING CONVERSATION)
ALL: Come on! Come on, Bobby!
(BOBBY BARKING)
Eh, what with Traill and the bairns, the dog belongs to nobody.
- Hmm? - Good riddance to him.
- Are ya talkin' to me, Mr. Brown? - No, I was not.
- I was talkin' about yon wee dog. - Aye!
I've been watchin' that dog runnin' about the streets
here for a long time. But he's too quick.
I've never been able to catch him.
- Catch him? For what? - Why? Is he your dog?
Are you keepin' a dog in the kirkyard, Mr. Brown?
He's no' my dog. But why would you
- want to catch him? - He's got no collar.
Maybe he's got no license. And that's against the law.
Aye. And we all know that the law of Scotland
couldn't last another day without you, Mr. Maclean.
If he's no' your dog, whose is he?
I would no' know.
But, uh...
why don't you ask Mr. Traill?
Hmm.
He seems to know everything about everybody here in Greyfriars.
Aye. Ask him.
Mr. Traill.
Good afternoon to ya, Davie.
And how are you?
Finish with your tables, lassie. He's no' come for you.
So you've got a wee dog here now, John, eh?
I did no' know.
Well, maybe there's still a few things you don't know, Davie.
The wee dog is a customer of mine.
I'm not here for jokes.
Ach, away, man. Do no' be so pompous.
I'm here in the line of duty.
Are you Mr. John Traill?
What ails ya, man?
You know my name as well as you know your own.
It's a formality of the law to make you admit your identity.
Here's a bit paper for ye.
You're summoned to appear before the magistrate
in the burgh court tomorrow,
to answer a charge of owning and harboring one dog,
upon which you have not paid the license tax of seven shillings.
Mind you, if the seven shillings were to be paid in before tomorrow,
the charge would not be pursued.
Who says I own or harbor a dog?
- I can use my eyes, can't I? - Can ya use your head?
Yes, I can! I've been watching that dog
for a long, long time.
And now, just this week, there's new rules about dogs in the city.
And you think you'll force me to pay the license for him, don't ya?
And I think I know who's behind all this:
That old fool in the Kirkyard, James Brown.
I'll see to this right away. So you can take yourself off!
- You mean you'll pay? - No!
Then you'll present yourself to the court tomorrow.
Mr. Traill, what does it mean? Is it no' a joke?
No, it's no joke at all, lassie.
The municipal court of Edinburgh is very important.
The Lord Provost himself sits on the bench there
when it's His turn to do so.
It's a serious matter. And I have calls to make.
You and the laddie do your work while I'm away.
Bobby! You come with me.
Mrs. Brown, I...
I wish to have a word with your husband.
On a matter of business!
I'm afraid he is no' very well today, Mr. Traill.
He's sleeping in his bed. Can I give him a message?
No.
It's a very particular matter.
I'll attend to it myself!
Hadn't you better take your dog inside?
Bobby! Bobby, my wee! My wee bairn.
(GAVEL POUNDING)
Case against John Traill.
Is Mr. Traill in court?
I'm here.
John Traill,
you are the landlord of Traill's dining rooms in Greyfriars place.
I certainly am. And everybody here knows I am.
You are required merely to admit your identity. Read the charge.
You have been summoned here to answer the charge
that you, John Traill, are harboring a dog,
unlicensed and stray,
in contravention of the new orders and powers
invested in the burgh police, to apprehend such animals.
Do you plead guilty or not guilty?
- Not guilty. - JUDGE: Very well.
Call sergeant Maclean.
I swear by our mighty God to tell the truth, the whole truth,
nothing but the truth, so help me God.
Sergeant Maclean,
the deposition you made to this court is correct in every
- particular. - Yes, sir.
I followed the said dog into Mr. Traill's place
and saw the said dog eating there...
And being sheltered by the accused,
who did not deny the presence of the said dog.
There's an awful lot of "said" about this wee dog.
Did he no' say anything to you?
(LAUGHTER)
- (GAVEL POUNDING) - JUDGE: Order!
(LAUGHTER STOPS)
You will confine your observations to the bench.
Now then, are you denying the sergeant's statement?
I'm no' denying the fact that he saw that wee dog on my premises, Your Honor.
Aye, that's what I said.
The dog is not my dog. I'm no' his master.
He does no' sleep under my roof.
Then who is his master and where does he sleep?
His master's in his grave in old Greyfriars Kirkyard these many months,
and the dog sleeps on the mound.
Jim, wake up. This might be a story.
Do you mean to tell this court
that a dog could sleep out in the open, all through the winter,
- in a graveyard? - This one has, Your Honor.
He's a Skye terrier
with a coat on him as thick as the thatch on the roof.
Have you any witnesses to prove such a ridiculous story?
The caretaker of the kirkyard, like myself,
has been a sort of friend of the wee dog.
And no doubt would be pleased to tell Your Honor so.
But for the misfortune he's so sick,
he can no' leave his house.
But no doubt, if necessary, his deposition could be taken.
Do the Greyfriars kirk authorities know about this?
TRAILL: I've been to inform the minister, Dr. Lee, Your Honor.
But he's no' in Edinburgh.
He's away in France. For his health.
(SNICKERS) There would seem to be no witnesses who are not in poor health.
Aye, Your Honor.
Half a hundred children in the tenements there
see him every day and have made a great pet of the wee dog.
If you regard them as competent witnesses.
Though most of them are over young.
Mr. Traill,
- are you being impertinent? - Certainly not!
You asked me for witnesses that Bobby sleeps in the kirkyard.
Mr. Traill, I don't know if you've consulted a lawyer
about this charge of harboring the dog.
I think I've a good enough tongue in my head to be my own lawyer.
- (LAUGHTER, MURMURING) - JUDGE: Your tongue is certainly
long enough, Mr. Traill.
If this dog is ownerless
and unlicensed, it will have to be taken up
-by the police -That does no' seem fair to me.
Fair, sir? Fair? That is the law!
Masterless dogs have become a perfect nuisance in this town.
Unless this dog's license is paid, it will have to be put away,
and that'll be the end of the matter.
Now, sir, are you prepared to pay?
Or am I to make out an order for this dog to be taken?
It's not a matter of seven shillings for a dog's license, Your Honor.
This is a matter of principle.
Principle? What principle?
I canno' be responsible for what is not my own!
The dog is no' with me for more than two hours out of the 24.
The rest of the time he's in the kirkyard, sleeping and working.
- Working? - Aye, working!
He's employed in the kirkyard killing vermin and the like
that the hardworking caretaker, Mr. Brown,
is no' able to do for himself.
(LAUGHTER)
- Order! - (GAVEL BANGING)
Mr. Traill,
- you refuse to pay this license. - On a matter of...
Kindly don't interrupt!
Quite apart from the question of the license, there's something else.
According to the law, you are guilty of harboring a stray
without reporting the fact to the police.
For that, the minimum fine of five shillings will be imposed.
And if I pay the license against my principles,
- the fine will no' be imposed? - That is so.
In that case, Your Honor,
I shall appeal against your decision to the Lord Provost
and all the other magistrates, and then to the court of sessions!
Mr. Traill, the high judiciary have more important business
than reviewing small matters
- of this kind. - It's no' a small matter for me
to be entered into the burgh court's records as a lawbreaker!
If I refuse to pay the license,
but continue to feed the wee dog as I always have,
you'll hold me in contempt of court?
If you're asking for information...
I'm no' asking for anything!
I'm making plain my own line of conduct.
But you're asking me to let a wee dog starve
for a little technicality.
- JUDGE: Order! Silence! - (GAVEL BANGING)
Mr. Traill, are you defying this court?
Certainly not, Your Honor.
You deny ownership of this wretched dog.
Yet you bring no witnesses to support your story?
No witnesses, Your Honor.
But by your leave, I'd like to say this: Davie,
The next time you're near my dining rooms, come in...
and let the wee dog you're persecuting gi' you a lesson in manners and morals.
Bobby at least has never bit the hand that feeds him.
- But you have, Davie. - (INAUDIBLE)
And you've had many a free meal from me.
(LAUGHTER)
- JUDGE: Silence! - (GAVEL BANGING)
Mr. Traill,
on your own admission, you are guilty
of harboring a stray without reporting it as such.
You will, therefore, present yourself here...
And bring the dog with you...
At half past eight of the clock
before this court goes into session.
Have I no' a chance to appeal, Your Honor?
Half past eight of the clock here tomorrow morning.
Now step down if you please, Mr. Traill.
Hey there, lassie.
Did ya ever give a wee dog a good wash?
You mean Bobby, Mr. Traill? No.
But Tammy sometimes washed him for Mr. Brown
and says it's no difficult matter.
Hmm.
Mr. Brown's in poor health, I'm told.
So there's no chance of Bobby getting washed again
until the sickness is all gone.
But I want him washed, Ailie.
- He's serious business ahead of him. - He has?
Aye. Very serious.
So you bring him here clean and brushed
at eight o'clock in the morning.
Are ya takin' him somewhere, Mr. Traill? Is it a picnic?
Aye, I'm takin' him somewhere, lassie,
but it's no' a picnic.
It's a serious matter...
of principle.
But you've done your work. Off you go.
Now go away home.
(BOBBY WHIMPERING)
(CHURCH BELL TOLLING)
(CLOCK CHIMES)
We're right on time, Mr. Traill.
We washed him clean and combed him with my granny's comb.
Aye. He looks a picture. Here.
Here's a penny for each of you.
Ailie, you can give Tammy some of the porridge cookin' on the fire.
But where ya takin' Bobby, Mr. Traill?
To see someone of importance, laddie.
But I will no' take ya tied, Bobby.
Here. There's me boy.
(GRUNTS) Come on.
Come on now. There's a boy.
BOY: Hello, Ailie.
You're, uh, workin' for Mr. Traill now, are ya?
Aye. For a whole week now.
Did, uh, Mr. Traill tell you about the burgh court yesterday,
bout him and the wee dog?
No. Why? He's just takin' Bobby with him now.
Aye. To see someone of importance.
Oh, that's just his way of putting it.
He's taking Bobby to stand before the burgh court
as he was ordered to.
Take Bobby? Why?
Well, if a dog has no master to pay his license,
the police pick him up and put him out of the way.
- What? - Aye.
And Mr. Traill will no' pay the license because Bobby's not his dog.
How much are they wantin' for the license then?
Seven shillings!
BOTH: Seven shillings!
But that's a fortune.
Aye.
But I canno' stop here talking. I'm over late for work.
Seven shillings to allow one wee dog to live.
Not anybody, not even Mr. Traill ever had seven shillings all at once.
I have the penny Mr. Traill just gave me.
How much have you, Tammy?
Seven shillings is 84 pennies,
one hundred and sixty-eight ha'pennies
and 336 farthings.
But there's more folk around the old kirkyard
than farthings and seven shillings.
Yes, Ailie, but they're over poor.
But, Tammy, we have to get it. Mr. Traill has gone to give him up.
He was wearing all his good clothes and a long face to go to Bobby's burial.
Not if we can get the money first.
Tell everybody, Ailie, everybody you can find.
And I will too.
Every bairn in Greyfriars, Ailie. And run!
Have you any money to save the wee dog's life?
I'm looking for the man Traill, the case with the dog.
- Have you seen him? - You canno' go in there
until the court is in session, at nine o'clock.
- But I'm a member of the press... - That's my orders, sir,
From the Lord Provost himself.
Oh? The Lord Provost isn't listed to be here today.
I think I'd better wait.
And as many would say, this is no' much of a case
for the Lord Provost to bother his head about,
- Your Worship. - I must be the judge of that, Mr. Traill.
Sergeant Maclean has the prisoner in custody, I see.
Now, Mr. Traill, the points at issue are very simple.
Do you give food and shelter to this dog?
And do you own him?
Let's take the first point first.
Aye, I lodge him.
Uh, I've always fed the wee dog. Ever since...
Well, I've always fed him, and I'm no' denyin' it.
Why did you? If he is not your own?
Well, at first, to ease my conscience because I blame myself
in part for the death of the wee dog's master.
You said "at first." What then?
Oh, uh... I've courted the wee terrier for a long, long time since then
because I have nobody of my own.
But he'll have none of me.
Except he's friendly and polite.
He just grieves for the old man that's dead.
The law says the dog must have an owner.
And I canno' claim to be that, Your Lordship, because it's no' true!
But I canno' believe the law would make a man
abandon his principles and lie or...
take the life of a wee dog for a matter
of a few shillings and a piece of paper.
The law deals with facts, not with emotions, Mr. Traill.
The dog is ownerless...
- and unlicensed. - (BOBBY SNIFFING)
Is there a case about a wee dog in there?
You canno' go in there.
You see, Jeanie? I told you that.
Whisht, man. My husband and I
are important witnesses in the case. Is it in there?
Here! You canno' go in there!
We are the dog's owners, sir.
Begging your pardon, Your Lordship,
but that's right. That's right.
James Brown! You're telling a lie!
He's the caretaker of the kirkyard, Your Lordship,
that's so sick at home in bed.
LORD PROVOST: Constable, let these two witnesses in.
But no one else. You stay outside.
Your name?
James Brown, Your Lordship.
- You claim ownership of the dog? - BROWN: Aye, we do.
JEANIE: And we've come to pay the license for him.
Eh, my wife has the money here in her purse.
We just heard about the dog bein' taken up and I thought...
Yes, yes, Mr. Brown. You're claiming ownership.
In that case...
That's no' the case at all, Your Lordship!
James Brown is not the owner of the dog!
If I pay for him, I am.
You have no legal right to Bobby any more than I.
Mr. Brown.
Does the dog sleep under your roof?
Well...
no, Your Lordship. No' at night.
No, I canno' say that. He sleeps in the kirkyard.
With the minister's permission, of course?
Well...
no, Your Lordship, I canno' say that.
Ach! This is but a wee dog that holds its gab,
and it's very respectful.
BROWN: Aye, and he's only been there such a short time, Your Lordship,
For some months, Mr. Brown.
- (GROWLING) - The minister told me that himself.
The minister knows? He told Your Lordship?
He was told by the Bible reader at the funeral.
Then by the minister at Cauldbrae where the dog once lived.
And might live now.
If you had not fed him every day to keep him here.
The folks at Cauldbrae did not license him, Your Lordship,
or there'd be no charge for the lack of it.
I'm paying for Bobby's license myself, John Traill.
Ye'll do no such thing, James Brown.
In all my life, I've...
never surrendered a principle before, Your Lordship.
But the charge is on me, and I'll... I'll pay it.
I feel I must point out to you both
that the dog sleeps under neither of your roofs.
So belongs no more to one than to the other.
I was summoned to license him and be his owner.
- And I will. - But I asked first!
Perhaps both of you are thinking more of winning an argument
than winning the dog.
A dog needs a home.
But it needs love too.
That more than anything.
Your Lordship, do ya think he does no' get that?
Because he most certainly does.
No' only from me and my wife,
but from every child in Greyfriars.
They feel he's one of them.
Your Lordship, do no' send him away from the kirkyard.
For many of the bairns in Greyfriars,
Bobby is the only love they know.
Eh, what are you bairns doin' in here?
Come on. Out you get. Go on! Go with ye. Out!
Mister, mister, we're looking for Greyfriars Bobby.
Aye. And Mr. Traill that brought him here.
Now you get out here now. Young savages in the burgh court!
Have ya taken leave of your senses?
Look for yourselves! Look!
(STAMMERING) Your Lordship!
Silence. Close the door.
(WHISPERS) Go on, children.
- Look! He's not dead. - (BOBBY BARKING)
Will it be all right now, Mr. Traill?
I've got the money for a license in my bonnet, Mr. Traill.
Is it you I pay, mister?
TAMMY: It's seven shillings, if you wish to count.
But where did you bairns get all this money from? And how?
Everybody around the kirkyard gave it,
to pay the police not to make Bobby dead.
I gave a farthing, Mr. Traill.
Aye, near every bairn we asked. I gave a penny.
- AILIE: Everybody gave something. - (OVERLAPPING CONVERSATION)
Whisht! Whisht!
Have ya no respect for where ya are? In the great burgh court.
- Whisht! - Mr. Traill, hand the dog up here.
Answer me this, any of you:
Do you know what it means to be given the freedom of the city?
Tammy would know, sir. He's a scholar at Heriot's school... now.
It's when the queen comes, mister,
and you give her the keys to the burgh gates that are not here anymore.
Right, laddie.
The gates and walls are down.
But we still give the keys to visitors who are grand or wise...
or just useful out of the ordinary.
Like the Duke of Wellington and Miss Florence Nightingale.
Yes. The brave and faithful.
Now, here's a wee dog
that's been faithful out of the ordinary.
For a dead man he loved,
he's gone hungry and been cold.
He has never forgotten him...
or left his side by night.
And do the police now have to take him?
If he is made free of the city, he can wander where he likes.
- What would Bobby do with keys? - Shh!
"Greyfriars Bobby, from the Lord Provost! Licensed."
Ailie, that's the Lord Provost himself! And I called him "mister."
If dozens of children who know him...
will bring seven shillings in farthings and pennies for him...
they buy the right for the dog to live...
in care of them all...
in the Kirkyard of Greyfriars.
But he must have a collar...
so that all the police will know him...
and never take him up for a masterless dog.
He belongs to all of you.
And all of you are responsible for him now.
You're free, wee man.
Off you go.
(BOBBY BARKING)
AILIE: Bobby's free! Bobby's free!
TAMMY: Hey, wait! Wait for me!
(BAGPIPES PLAYING)
Get away, Bobby. Get away.
Is the wee dog the regimental mascot there, corporal?
Oh, that's Greyfriars Bobby, sir. He belongs to the city.
Have you not heard of him?
- Oh, why, of course. - Oh, yes.
So that's him, eh?
- Hello, Bobby. How ya doin'? - Hello, Bobby. How are ya?
I'm sorry the door wasn't open, but I had my hands full.
Here. Come on.
Come here. Yeah, that's good.
Good night to ya, Bobby.
(CHUCKLES) Bobby. Almost shut ya out.
I must never do that again.
Will ya no' come in?
What for?
Oh, to have a wee dram with Jeanie and myself.
Come.
Good night to ya, Bobby.
Good night, Bobby.
AILIE: Good night, Bobby.
TAMMY: Good night to ya, Bobby. I'll see ya in the mornin'.
BOY 1: Good night, Bobby. BOY 2: Good night. Sleep well.
BOY 3: Yep. See ya in the mornin'.
CHILDREN: Good night, Bobby.
MAN 1: Good night to ya, laddie.
- MAN 2: Good night. - BOY 4: Good night, Bobby.
- GIRL: Good night. - MAN 3: Good night, dog.
MAN 4: Good night, Bobby.