| Author: | Eleanor Stackhouse Atkinson | ISBN: | 9782819942566 |
| Publisher: | Release Date: November 27, 2011 | Publication: | November 27, 2011 |
| Imprint: | pubOne.info | Language: | English |
| Author: | Eleanor Stackhouse Atkinson |
| ISBN: | 9782819942566 |
| Publisher: | Release Date: November 27, 2011 |
| Publication: | November 27, 2011 |
| Imprint: | pubOne.info |
| Language: | English |
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
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
