Purchase one of 1st World Library's Classic Books and help support
our free internet library of downloadable eBooks. Visit us online
at www.1stWorldLibrary.ORG - - When the time-gun boomed from
Edinburgh Castle, Bobby gave a startled yelp. He was only a little
country dog - the very youngest and smallest and shaggiest of Skye
terriers-bred on a heathery slope of the Pentland hills, where the
loudest sound was the bark of a collie or the tinkle of a
sheep-bell. That morning he had come to the weekly market with Auld
Jock, a farm laborer, and the Grassmarket of the Scottish capital
lay in the narrow valley at the southern base of Castle Crag. Two
hundred feet above it the time-gun was mounted in the half-moon
battery on an overhanging, crescent-shaped ledge of rock. In any
part of the city the report of the one-o'clock gun was sufficiently
alarming, but in the Grassmarket it was an earth-rending explosion
directly overhead. It needed to be heard but once there to be
registered on even a little dog's brain. Bobby had heard it many
times, and he never failed to yelp a sharp protest at the outrage
to his ears; but, as the gunshot was always followed by a certain
happy event, it started in his active little mind a train of
pleasant associations.
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