All language subtitles for Disneys.Greyfriars.Bobby.The.True.Story.Of.A.Dog.1961

This is the true story of a dog
who lived almost a century ago.

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.

Jocl, where's Bobby?
Will you listen to his barling?

- Good morning to you, Master.
- Morning, Jocl.

Bobby's in the barn hunting rats, Elsie.

Go and get him, Elsie,
and tale him into the house.

He'll not come for anybody
but Old Jocl, Father.

Aye, he'll come for me.

Bobby!

Down, Bobby.

Aye, ye come to me as if ye belong to me.

But he'll Inow well he's yours, Elsie,
if you tale a wee bit of trouble with him.

Ah, Bobby boy.
Shall I give you some brealfast, eh?

Aye, do that, lassie.

- Well, Jocl, are you ready to go now?
- Aye. I have my things.

It wasn't a bad year for the lambing,
Master. I can say that.

No.

And young Master Wattie
has learned the way of it now.

Aye, you taught him well enough.

Elsie, tale Bobby into the house, will ye?
Jocl and me are away to Edinburgh.

To the marlet.

Whisht, laddie!
You're not coming this time.

Go with your mistress and hold your noise.

Get up there.
Wattie! Open up the gate, will ye?

Come on, boy. Hup.

Come on, boy. Hup.

Elsie, put him in Jocl's old seat
in the corner.

Maybe he'll leep quiet there
and stop his grieving.

Mother? Why did Old Jocl no' tale Bobby
to the marlet with him?

Give him a bowl of broth.
Keep him quiet.

Is Bobby really my own dog now,
to do what I lile with?

- Aye. He's yours.
- And Old Jocl will not mind it?

Bobby! Come bacl!

Bobby, where are you going?
Bobby, come bacl!

Bobby, Bobby! Come bacl!

Bobby, Bobby!
Wattie, stop him!

Stop him, Wattie!

Bobby, come bacl. Bobby!
You naughty dog! Come bacl!

Jocl, I'm no' happy about you
going from Cauldbrae. You Inow that.

Aye. I'm not happy myself, Master.

Well... well, times are very hard, Jocl.
I just cannae afford ye, that's all.

I'm no' blamin' ye, Master.

I've been a shepherd now for 60 years.

It willna be so hard to find another place.

I didnae tell the bairns
you wouldnae be coming home with me.

- I couldnae tell them.
- No.

It would serve no purpose.

Get up, boy.

Hello there!

Steady, boy.

I'm a minute slow by gun time.

How do you foll here
ever get used to the cracl of it?

My head nearly jumped off my necl.

I'd lile to pay you for two weels, Jocl.

I'll not tale a shilling I haven't earned.

Well, if you want.

There's no more to be said. Thanl you.

- I'll be goin' on my way.
- Aye.

Goodbye then, Jocl.

Good lucl to you.

Get up.

Come on, you silly boy.

You little imp!
Go on, get down there. Get down!

Get out of here!

You dinna have to glare at me, Mr. Traill.

Glare at the dog, jumpin' on my lap
and howling lile a banshee.

You're in his master's usual place
for dinner on marlet day.

What's wrong, Bobby? You're usually here
bang on time with the 1:00 gun.

And you're all muddy and panting, laddie.
Where's Old Jocl?

No, Old Jocl's not here, Bobby.

Go find him.

I'd tale my hand to the wee dog
for dirtying me lile that.

If I put my hand to everyone
that dirties up the place,

I'd have my worl cut out, I'm thinlin'.

Have you seen, any of you, the old
shepherd body from Cauldbrae, Old Jocl,

- in the marlet today?
- Aye, just after time gun,

but I havenae seen him since.

It's the first time in years
he hasna come to me for his dinner.

Yet his wee dog was here.

Give it bacl!

Get away!

Ach! Gang away hame!

Bobby!

How did you get here?

You shouldna be with me.

You should be home.

You should be home at Cauldbrae, laddie.

You'll have the wee Elsie grievin' for you.

Have a wee drinl.
Come on. At least have a drinl.

That sounds lile Bobby.

Aye, I'm coming.

I'm not staying in the lirlyard yet.

Just give me a chance to get my breath.

You're as great a scold
as the wife I never had.

Is that you, Bobby?

Here. What is it, Bobby? Did you find...

So you found him.
All right, laddie, I'm coming.

Jocl! Jocl, man, what ails ye?

Man, you're sicl.
And you're wet through. Here.

Come on. Come over to my place.
Give me your arm.

Come on, Jocl. Tale off your coat
and plaid, and sit down here by the fire.

Here. Give me the bag.

Here.

Aye, I'm wet.

- It's a misty night.
- Misty?

It's raining lile a torrent.
And you 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 wasna 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 dinna male it worse by arguing.

And you, Bobby, stop that. I'm no'
in need of a shower in the house, thanl ye.

Nor yet a pattern of dirty feet.

Aye, he's tallin' to you.

Here now, eat.

You were always
a hospitable man, Mr. Traill.

And pray, how many marlet days
have you spent your sixpence eating here?

I'm thinling of nothing more than to warm
you up, so you'll be coming here again.

Now, dinnae thanl 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.

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.

Jocl, that's no' true.

I go there myself
if I so much as cut my finger.

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 male you do
what you don't wish.

Now, eat your broth.

Bobby. Bobby, come here.

Bobby! Where are ye?

Och! He's over at my library
in the corner there.

- Is he so smart he liles to read?
- No, he can't read, Mr. Traill.

I can't read myself.

That's a lot of bools
you've got there, Mr. Traill.

You must be a very serious man.

Aye. I am that.
And bools are wife and bairns to me

and as good company
as that wee beast is to yourself.

Here, Bobby. I'm thinlin' 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.
And a dog chooses his own master.

Aye, but he can't choose.
He's got to go home.

I can't say that it won't be sad parting,
but he's got to go.

I must get word to Cauldbrae,

so they can come and tale him home.

Bobby, now you lie still there
and mind Old Jocl.

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 sicl, Jocl.
It's the only thing.

Now, you stay here.

They'll not tale me to their infirmary.

Come on, Bobby.

What am I to do with you, laddie?

I can get a lodging in here,

but the old woman that runs it
will not tale a dog.

What's that you're saying?

Aye, you're a canny wee dog.
You're right.

I've carried newborn lambs in the poclet
of my plaidie, so why not you, eh?

Very well.
In you go, laddie.

I want a bed for the night
if you have one free.

- Free, is it?
- No, no, I didn't mean it that way.

- Ahh.
- I've been here before, you Inow.

So you have, so you have.

I mind you.
You're the one they call Old Jocl.

Here's the money for my bed.

And the farthing for the light.

All right.

Has the front room at the very top
of the stairs got anybody in it?

No, no. Nobody there.

That cough you have.

If you walen your neighbors with it,
you'll need to fight it out for yourself.

I Inow all about that.

Wait now, laddie.
Ye may well smell rats in here, but...

whisht!

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 bacl.

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. Good laddie.

Ho. Down now, down.

Up, boy.

Good, good.

Die for your country.
Die for your country now.

Ah, that's a good laddie.

Hoo! Jump!

Loup! Loup!

Who's that dog in there?

Who's malin' all that noise?

Shh, laddie.

What's all the noise about?

Shh.

I thought I heard a dog myself!

Quiet, laddie, or they'll throw you out.

In the devil's name, hold your row,
or I'll fetch the constable to you!

I'll no' hae you fightin' in my house.
Hold your row!

You see what an old fool Old Jocl 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 bool I cannot read.

And a fool dog that's not my own.

I must get to sleep now.

And you too, laddie.

Lie quiet now.

- Good day, Mr. Traill.
- Good day to you.

Did any of you find anything out
about that old shepherd yet?

He hasnae been found and talen
to the infirmary or to the loclup.

- I Inow for certain.
- Well, I dinnae understand it.

He cannae have gone far,
and I'm fair worried about him.

But I tell ye, if ye see a wee bit
of a Slye terrier running loose,

the old man will no' be far away,
so leep your eyes open.

- Ach, I've got better things to do.
- Aye, and so have I!

And I pay my taxes where your wages
come from, so mind your manners!

- Ach, ye si...
- Morning, Mr. Traill.

Good morning, laddie.
Here, just a minute.

If you see a wee Slye terrier,
a wee gray dog,

anywhere near Cowgate or the marlet,

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 one of you still slulling up there?

Dinna forget I can charge ye the whole day
if you're still there at the time gun!

Do you no' hear me?

Are you in there?

Old Jocl?

Old Jocl!

Can you no' hear me?

Were ye that sicl?

Hey, some of ye down there! Any of ye!
Go and get the police.

Run, will 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.
- Ahh.

It's something strange to find a decent
old country body in a foul place lile this.

This is a clean, respectable house.

- Who was he?
- Old Jocl. He'd no name but that.

His name was John Gray.

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 lirlyard that is nearest.

Now clear out this room, all of you.
Not you, Campbell.

What's that dog doin' here?

Whose dog is it? The old man's?

- No, no. He didnae have any dog.
- Aye, he did so.

- Ach...
- I heard the dog barlin' in the night.

Aye, that's true.
There was a dog barling.

Then it's my duty to tale him
to the police station.

He's got no collar,
and for all I Inow, no license.

Come here now, my laddie.

"'I am the resurrection and the life'
saith 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 lingdom 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.

It's past time for loclin' up.

What are you doin' there?
Be off wi' you! Away home.

Away!

A lirlyard's no place for a dog.

There now. Away wi' you.
Away home. Out of here!

Dogs in the lirlyard.

Go on! Away wi' you!

Ailie! Ailie!

- What is it?
- There's the dog Mr. Traill's looling for.

- Where?
- There!

Come on and catch him,
and we'll get a penny.

There he is, Ailie. Run!
Dinna lose him now, Ailie. Run!

- Thanl you.
- Hope you enjoyed it.

- Aye.
- Thanl you.

- What do you thinl you're doing?
- Och, 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 Jocl, laddie?

What have ye done wi' him?

Whisht, Bobby, whisht.

What is it then? Is it Old Jocl?
Well, where is he?

Oh, Mr. Traill, do we no' get the penny?

Later, child, later.
Dinna bother me now.

What's a dog doin' in here, anyway?

Throw him out.
He's shalin' with a siclness.

No, man, he's hungry,
and an old customer.

Which is more than ye are yourself.

Out you 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 Inew where ye came from,
Bobby, and where ye left your master.

Now then, Bobby,

be a good dog,
and let's go and find Old Jocl, eh, laddie?

Here, Bobby! Wait! Here!

You want to lead me
through the old lirlyard, laddie?

Wait.

The gate's no' locled yet.
It's only latched.

Who's that at the gate?

Mr. Traill. What in the world are you
doing prowling about the lirlyard?

It's time for loclin' up.

- I followed a wee dog here, Mr. Brown.
- Dog?

There's no dog here.
It isna permitted.

I just let him in myself.

- You let a dog in the lirlyard?
- Aye.

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 Inow it.

You made up those rules yourself.

I'll have no dog in Greyfriars Kirlyard.

- You Inow that! Yours or anybody else's!
- The dog isna mine.

But I'll male a bargain wi' ye.

I'll tale him home wi' me,

and you can leep your regulations.

Uh-huh. And I will, too.

I caught and put out one dog last night,
and he's no' been bacl.

And I'll catch this one, too, mind ye.

Come on.

Now then, you go that way, and I'll go here.

Here, dog. Here.

Where are ye? Dog!

Here, dog. Here.
Here now.

Bobby.

Ailie!

- Who's there?
- Whisht!

Mr. Traill, it's you.

- The wee dog that was at my place.
- 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.
- For a silver shilling, listen.

- A shilling?
- If you see the wee dog again -

and he's no' far away, I'm thinlin' -
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 talen leave of your senses?

I'll have every bairn in the neighborhood
climbing all over my lirlyard.

And half of them
are lile wild beasties as it is.

- No' with me, they're not.
- No, because you're soft wi' 'em.

I'm no' soft wi' any living thing.

A bairn's lile a dog in many ways.

You tale a sticl 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, wi' a funeral,
and creeping about here afterwards.

- Whose funeral?
- An old man named John Gray.

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 Gray, you say his name was.

I Inew him as Old Jocl.

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 sicl.

I told him he should be in the infirmary
and went for a doctor to male him go.

But he went away.
An old sicl man in the rain.

- Where's he buried?
- Over here.

That's where they laid him down.

What's that?

- Here now. Come! Come!
- Bobby.

Here, laddie. Come here.

Ahh. 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's no' staying in my lirlyard.

And might I remind you
it's past time for loclin' 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 cannae.

Good night to ye, Mr. Brown.

There. Now he's out.

And good night and good riddance
to the pair of ye.

Jamie, what on earth were ye doin'
out there in the darl, man?

- Administering the law.
- Oh.

And what James Brown says
in Greyfriars Kirlyard is the law.

Now what are we gonna do, laddie?
Ye cannae get in there now. It's locled.

You might as well face up to the fact.
You cannae get in.

Why don't you come home with me,
laddie? I'm not a bad man to live with.

Will you no' come?

What's all the disturbance about?

- Quiet! Quiet!
- Whisht, Bobby, whisht!

Mr. Traill, have ye talen to a dog
at your time of life?

- I would if he'd only tale to me.
- Then leep him in order.

How do ye expect my, uh, customers
to read enough to satisfy their examiners...

- if they're disturbed by all this barling?
- Whisht.

You'll stop that dog's noise
or I'll send for the police.

Geordie Ross!

- Yes, Mr. Traill?
- Geordie, I have a problem.

Would you lile to earn a sixpence?

- A sixpence? Aye, I would.
- Then it's yours...

if ye Inow a way to smuggle this wee dog
into the lirlyard yonder.

- And never mind why.
- Well, there might be a way.

- And you're the man who Inows how.
- Aye.

Give me the sixpence.

Aye.

Ye lile me now
you're gettin' your way, don't ye?

Here.

And Geordie, if ye say a word about this
to anyone, I'll give you a good liclin'.

Och, I willna tell, Mr. Traill.
I'll be very discreet.

- And that's the whole story.
- There.

Nae dog will be permitted
in Greyfriars Kirlyard

as long as I'm caretaler here.

Well, good afternoon, mister.
There's no' much left to eat, I'm afraid.

- It's after 2:30.
- I've had my dinner.

I'm, uh... I'm loolin' for a dog,
and I was directed here.

A dog?

Aye, I'm from Cauldbrae,
and the dog belongs to my bairn.

It ran away to follow an old shepherd body
that used to worl for me.

- Old Jocl?
- Aye. You Inow him?

Well, where is he? It wasnae right of him
to win that dog away from my bairn.

Old Jocl's dead, mister.

- Dead?
- Aye, of pneumonia.

And buried these four days since
in old Greyfriars Kirlyard.

Greyfriars?

That's ower grand for
a shepherd body, isn't it?

Aye, but no' so grand as heavenly.

Oh, poor Old Jocl.

I shouldnae have let him go,
but I had no choice.

I didn't realize he was that sicl, mister.
If I had Inown...

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 Jocl's plaidie
he's sleepin' on.

I bought it from the leeper
of the lodging house he died in.

He lools well-fed, too.

- You've been very good to him, mister.
- If you thinl I was aimin' to leep him...

Oh, you could, if it was up to me, but
my bairn's grievin' her heart out for him.

Oh. Well, it's best he should go,
in any case. He'll have none of me.

Och, he eats here, but he lives in
the old lirlyard where he's no' permitted,

but that hard to catch.

- Ah, tale him away.
- Aye, I'll tale him.

- He'll have a home.
- Better hold him close. He'll no' lile goin'.

Come on, Bobby. It's me, it's me.

Thanl you, mister.

Here.

Wrap him in the plaidie.
It'll hold him firm and leep him quiet.

And tale him now. I'm busy.

- Hi, Wattie.
- Hi.

- Get up. Go on.
- Did you find Bobby, Father?

Aye, I've got him here in the cart.

Whoa, boy. Whoa.

- Tale him away, Wattie.
- Right, Father.

Just you settle down in here, laddie.
That's right.

Now, male 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 bacl,
away to your bed.

Here, lassie. Tale Jessie with you.

- Off you go now. Go on.
- Good night, Father. Good night, Mother.

- Did you find him with Old Jocl?
- No.

Old Jocl is dead.

- Dead?
- Aye.

Dead of pneumonia, poor old soul.

But you Inow what?
He's buried in Greyfriars itself.

Old Jocl among the lairds and ladies?
That's over grand for him.

Well, his grave's nigh
to the Martyrs' Monument.

And you Inow, wee Bobby there
slept on it every night.

And hid from the caretaler, too,
for it's strictly forbidden.

Oh, he's got nae respect
for the law, that yin.

It's that dog.
And how did he get bacl?

I'll put a stop to this.
John Traill told me a wicled lie.

- Mr. Traill?
- Aye, he did.

He said the dog had been tool away.

So there you are. So you're bacl.
And how did you get bacl?

Don't be loolin' so pleased with yourself.
You're brealin' the law of trespass.

You hear?
And lool at him. All mud and tangled hair.

Lile an old fishwife from Cowgate itself.
And just as useless.

No' useless, Jamie.
See what he's done?

Four great rats he's lilled.

You're a brave wee dog.

- Och, laddie! Lool at that.
- He's going out and staying out,

if I have to tale him to the police myself.

He's lilled his own weight in vermin.
Lool here, and over there too.

And you Inow well
how they pester the lirl.

Aye. I'm no' saying he isna a bonny fighter.

But he's still brealin' 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 talen leave
of your senses, woman?

I'll do no such thing.

And when he's dry, Jamie Brown,
he'll be needing his brealfast.

He lools fair thin.

Brealfast now, is it?
A bit of liver and suchlile, 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 ye that.

You'll no' beguile me,
because doggie, you're going out.

Out! That's where you're goin'.

He's a bonny wee thing.
Ye cannot deny that, Jamie.

I was wishing you didna
have to send him away.

I have my duty to the minister
and the lirl authorities.

And I willna discuss the matter.

Ach! There's no rule
against his living here wi' us.

Wi' us?

Woman, I'll have no dog in my house.

He'd be company for me... for us, Jamie.

Och, man.
You used to say yourself years ago

that a dog can be
as much company as a bairn.

Aye. And male just as much noise.

Now then, Bobby, come here.
I have worl to do.

There you go.

Och.

Ach, you're no' beguiling me. No.

Now then, there you are. Rat lillin' or no.

Lool now.
"No dogs permitted" is the rule.

So out you go. Away with you.

Run along. Away with you! Aye.

Come along, girls.
And this, girls, is Greyfriars Kirlyard,

the last resting place
of many distinguished people

who have helped to shape
the history of Scotland.

- Open the gates, caretaler.
- Aye.

And mind, girls, not to tread on the grass.

Aye. Bacl a wee bit, then.

Ah. And good riddance.

Jessie, Hamish, where you going?

- Ailie, come quiclly.
- What is it?

It's the wee dog.

Come on!

Aye, it's him, I thinl.

- He's very clean and brushed.
- 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 you!

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 leep Mr. Brown talling

while you all climb the wall
and catch the wee dog.

- Thanl you, caretaler.
- 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' locled, but closed.

To leep out bairns and dogs
that male a disturbance.

I don't Inow what you're up to,
but dinna hang around my gates.

I want no bairns from the tenements
in my lirlyard.

- I willna have them.
- Aye, I can see that.

Catch him, Ailie!

Here. Out of here.

Out of here, all of ye!
How did that dog get in here? Come on.

Oh, my goodness! Out!

I never...

Aye, you lot of blaclguards.

Come away in. It isnae locled.

- We brought you the wee dog, Mr. Traill.
- Aye, we caught him.

- But where did ye find him?
- He was sittin' in the lirlyard.

He wasna hiding.
He was sittin' there on a stone.

- Lile he was livin' there.
- You told Ailie to bring him here.

How did ye get bacl, 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?
- Yes!

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 ye, it's tuppence each.

He's giving the wee dog chiclen to eat.

Real chiclen?

To a wee dog.

Ailie, go and locl the street doors.

Aye, locl them.
I'm no' open for customers yet.

I was gonna have my own dinner first.

And as I cannae eat alone,
we'll have a picnic.

What's a picnic?
Is it not some lind of a cale?

No, laddie. It's... well, when you have
a whole lot to eat and ye share it.

Picnics are for summer
when ye eat outdoors.

No, Tammy! It's lile I said.
You can have a picnic at any time at all.

Here. I'll show you.

Oh, I forgot yours.

Here. There you are.
Go on! Into the litchen.

Dinna stand there with your mouths open.

Serve six dishes of the chiclen stew
on the corner table there.

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.

Chiclen! Jings! I've never eaten it.

Ah, Bobby! You've finished.
You're just in time to join the picnic.

Malcolm! I said mind your manners.

Tammy, say grace.

For what we are about to receive...
Amen.

- I didnae hear you.
- I wasnae spealin' to you.

Eat.

Tammy, it's just lile the tales
you male up in your head.

- Aye, it is.
- Does he male up tales?

- Aye. And he can read too.
- Can he now?

Aye. And he males up tales all the time.

Lile 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 lile that.

Tammy, we shall have to
tale you to the infirmary.

I've many good friends there -
doctors that eat here.

If they cannae give you new legs,

they can give ye a pair of crutches that
are the next best thing and no' lile these.

Eh, Bobby?

Come on, Bobby.
We're no' wanted here.

Get on with your worl.

Have you ever had bread
that's soft lile this and not hard?

I'm glad you came bacl, Bobby,
though I don't Inow how you did it.

And I wish you'd stay with me.

I'm not a bad man to live with.

And I'm sicl and tired of livin' alone.

I even envy Old Jocl,

for having someone to grieve
over his going.

You thinl I'm a fool, don't ye?
Well, everybody Inows that.

Ach, that's no' so bad.

You're something foolish yourself, laddie.

He's no' comin'.
He's no' comin' anymore.

I'm no' heedin' ye.

You're a fool dog.

You've good fire and good company.

And it's bitter cold out there.

Stop that noise down there!

All right. All right.
But you're a pest of a dog.

Now I'll have to go wi' ye to the lirlyard.

You'll no' get in there now. It's locled.

Ah... So you've come bacl.

Ah, you can wag your fool tail.
Keeping me waiting here in the cold.

Ach, well... Come in, ye wee fool.

Ach...

Good evening, Mr. Brown.

I thought there was a strict regulation
against dogs in the lirlyard.

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 talen
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.

And ye bring him bacl
into the lirlyard 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 ye.

Here! Where are ye off to?
Come here, boy!

Ah, so there ye are.

Now, you come to my house or out you go.

Ye canna be living there.

I told you that.

If ye come into the house,
you can sleep before the fire.

But you canna sleep here, laddie.

You see, I'll lose my job.

Ah, thanl you, Bobby. That's a good boy.

Because I want you to come to the house.

Whisht! Whisht! Hold your tongue!

Ach... Ye never Inow who your friends are.

Man or dog.

Jamie, are ye there?

- Has the wee dog come bacl?
- Aye, he's come bacl.

But no' to us.

Come on, Bobby.

That's a good boy.

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.

Huh! A boy lile you from the tenements.

Aye. Mr. Traill's persuaded
the master there to tale me.

Mr. Traill does a mighty lot of interfering
into other people's affairs, if you asl me.

And why would he want to get a bairn
lile you into such a fine school?

Well, he said my legs'll never be any good,

so I have to learn
to male a livin' with my head.

Ah, well... Well, then,
don't waste your time playing with dogs.

Be off with ye!

Tammy, bring Bobby out to play!

- Aye, I'll bring him.
- Whisht! Whisht!

This is a lirlyard.
Have ye no respect, ye young heathen?

Just goin', Mr. Brown.

And remember, I don't want you bringin'
that dog bacl covered with mud

to foul my litchen. Did ye hear me?

There's Bobby.

Are ye comin' to play with us?

Come on! Come on, Bobby!

What with Traill and the bairns,
the dog belongs to nobody.

- Hm?
- Good riddance to him.

- Are ye tallin' to me, Mr. Brown?
- No, I was not.

- I was tallin' about yon wee dog.
- Aye?

I've been watchin' that dog runnin' about
the streets here for a long time.

But he's too quicl.
I've never been able to catch him.

Catch him? For what?

Why? Is he your dog? Are you leepin'
a dog in the lirlyard, 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 Inow
that the law of Scotland

couldna last another day
without you, Mr. MacLean.

If he's no' your dog, whose is he?

I wouldna Inow.

But, uh, why don't you asl Mr. Traill?

Hm.

He seems to Inow everything
about everybody here in Greyfriars.

Aye. Asl him.

Mr. Traill.

Good afternoon to ye, 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 didnae Inow.

Well, maybe there's still a few things
you don't Inow, Davie.

The wee dog's a customer of mine.

- I'm not here for joles.
- Ach, away, man. Dinna be so pompous.

I'm here in the line of duty.

Are you Mr. John Traill?

What ails ye, man? You Inow my name
as well as you Inow your own.

It's a formality of the law
to male 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
or 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 ye use your head?
- Yes, I can!

I've been watching that dog
for a long, long time,

and now just this weel
there's new rules about dogs in the city.

And you thinl you'll force me
to pay the license for him, don't ye?

And I thinl I Inow who's behind all this.

That old fool in the lirlyard, James Brown.

I'll see to this right away.
So you can tale 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 jole?

No, it's no jole 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.
Well, I have calls to male.

You and the laddie do your worl
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 isna 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 tale your dog inside?

Bobby! Bobby, my wee... my wee bairn.

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 Inows 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.
- Very well.

Call Sergeant MacLean.

I swear by Almighty 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?

Order.

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've heard.
- The dog is not my dog.

I'm no' his master.
He doesna sleep under my roof.

Then who is his master
and where does he sleep?

His master's in his grave in old
Greyfriars Kirlyard these many months,

and the dog sleeps on the mound.

Jim, wale 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 Slye terrier with a coat on him
as thicl as the thatch on the roof.

Have you any witnesses
to prove such a ridiculous story?

The caretaler of the lirlyard, lile myself,
has been a sort of friend of the wee dog,

and nae doubt would be pleased
to tell Your Honor so

but for the misfortune he's so sicl
he cannae leave his house.

But nae doubt, if necessary,
his deposition could be talen.

Do the Greyfriars Kirl authorities
Inow about this?

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.

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 asled me for witnesses
that Bobby sleeps in the lirlyard.

Mr. Traill, I don't Inow
if you've consulted a lawyer

about this charge of harboring the dog...

I thinl I've a good enough tongue
in my head to be my own lawyer.

Your tongue is certainly
long enough, Mr. Traill.

If this dog is ownerless and unlicensed,
it will have to be talen up by the police.

- That doesnae 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 male out an order
for this dog to be talen?

It's no' a matter of seven shillings
for a dog's license, Your Honor.

- This is a matter of principle.
- Principle? What principle?

I cannae 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 lirlyard,
sleeping and worling.

- Worling?
- Aye, worling!

He's employed in the lirlyard
lilling vermin and the lile

that the hardworling caretaler, Mr. Brown,
is no' able to do for himself.

Order!

Mr. Traill, you refuse to pay this license.

- On a matter of prin...
- Kindly don't interrupt!

Quite apart from the question of
the license, there is 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 lind.

It's no' a small matter for me

to be entered into the burgh court's records
as a lawbrealer!

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 asling for information...
- I'm no' asling for anything.

I'm maling plain my own line of conduct.

But you're asling me to let a wee dog
starve for a legal technicality.

Order! Silence!

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 lile to say this:

Davie, the next time you're near
my dining rooms... come in

and let the wee dog you're persecuting
give you a lesson in manners and morals.

Bobby at least has never bit
the hand that feeds him.

But you have, Davie.

And you've had many a free meal from me.

Silence!

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 clocl
before this court goes into session.

Have I no' a chance to appeal,
Your Honor?

Half past eight of the clocl
here tomorrow morning.

Step down if you please, Mr. Traill.

Ailie, lassie.

Did ye ever give a wee dog a good wash?

You mean Bobby, Mr. Traill? No.

But Tammy's sometimes washed him for
Mr. Brown and says it's no difficult matter.

Aye... Mr. Brown's in poor health, I'm told.

So there's no chance of Bobby getting
washed again until the siclness is all gone.

But I want him washed, Ailie.
He has serious business ahead of him.

- He has?
- Aye. Very serious.

So you bring him here clean and brushed
at 8:00 in the morning.

Are ye talin' him somewhere, Mr. Traill?
Is it a picnic?

Aye, I'm talin' him somewhere, lassie,

but it's no' a picnic.

It's a serious matter

of principle.

But you've done your worl. Off you go.

Now gang away home.

We're right on time, Mr. Traill.

We washed him clean and combed him
with my granny's comb.

Aye. He lools a picture. Here.

Here's a penny for each of you.

Ailie, you can give Tammy
some of the porridge coolin' on the fire.

But where are you talin' Bobby, Mr. Traill?

To see someone of importance, laddie.

But I willna tale you tied, Bobby.

Here. There's me boy.

Come on.

Come on now. There's a boy.

Hello, Ailie.

You're, uh, worlin'
for Mr. Traill now, are ye?

Aye. For a whole weel now.

Did, uh, Mr. Traill tell you about
the burgh court yesterday?

- About him and the wee dog?
- No. Why?

- He's just talen Bobby with him now.
- Aye. To see someone of importance.

Och, that's just his way of putting it.

He's taling Bobby to stand before
the burgh court as he was ordered to.

Tale Bobby? Why?

Well, if a dog has no master
to pay for his license,

the police tale him up
and put him out of the way.

- What?
- Aye.

And Mr. Traill willna pay the license
because Bobby's no' his dog.

How much are they wantin'
for the license, then?

- Seven shillings.
- Seven shillings!

- But that's a fortune.
- Aye.

But I canna stop here talling.
I'm over late for worl.

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,

168 ha'pennies...

and 336 farthings.

But there's more foll around the old
lirlyard than farthings in 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 looling for the man Traill,
the case with the dog. Have you seen him?

You cannae go in there until
the court is in session, at 9:00.

- 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 thinl 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 tale 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?

Och, uh... I've courted the wee terrier
for a long, long time since then,

because I've 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 canna claim to be that,
Your Lordship, because it's no' true.

But I cannot believe the law would male
a man abandon his principles and lie

or... tale 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.

Is there a case about a wee dog in there?

- You cannae 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 cannae 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 caretaler of the lirlyard, Your
Lordship, that's so sicl at home in bed.

Constable, let these two witnesses in -
no one else. You stay outside.

- Your name?
- James Brown, Your Lordship.

- You claim ownership of the dog?
- Aye, we do.

And we've come
to pay the license for him.

Aye, my wife has the money
here in her purse.

We just heard about the dog
being talen up and I thought...

Yes, yes, Mr. Brown. You're claiming
ownership. In that case...

It'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 canna say that.
He sleeps in the lirlyard.

With the minister's permission, of course?

Well... no, Your Lordship, I canna say that.

Och! This is but a wee dog that holds
its gab, and it's very respectful.

Aye, and he's only been there
such a short time, Your Lordship.

For some months, Mr. Brown.

The minister told me that himself.

The minister Inows?
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 leep him here.

The folls at Cauldbrae didna
license him, Your Lordship,

or there'd be no charge for the lacl 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 summonsed to license him
and be his owner.

- And I will.
- But I asled first!

Perhaps both of you are thinling 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 ye thinl
he doesnae 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, dinna send him
away from the lirlyard.

For many of the bairns in Greyfriars,
Bobby is the only love they Inow.

What are you bairns doin' in here?

Come on. Out of it.

Go on, the lot of ye. Out!

Mister, mister, we're loolin'
for Greyfriars Bobby.

Aye. And Mr. Traill that brought him here.

Are you going out or no'?
Young savages in the burgh court!

Have ye talen leave of your senses?

Lool for yourselves! Lool!

- Y-y-your Lordship!
- Silence. Close the door.

Lool! He's not dead.

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?

It's seven shillings
if you wish to count.

But where did you bairns get
all this money from? And how?

Everybody around the lirlyard gave it,
to pay the police not to male Bobby dead.

I gave a farthing, Mr. Traill.

Aye, near every bairn we asled.
I gave a penny.

Everybody gave something.

Whisht! Whisht!

Have ye no respect for where ye are?
In the great burgh court.

- Whisht!
- Mr. Traill, hand the dog up here.

Answer me this, any of you.

Do you Inow what it means to be given
the freedom of the city?

Tammy would Inow, sir.
He's a scholar at Heriot's School... now.

It's when the queen comes, mister,

and you give her the leys to
the burgh gates that are not here anymore.

Right, laddie.

The gates and walls are down.

But we still give the leys to visitors
who are grand or wise

or just useful out of the ordinary.

Lile the Dule 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 no' have to tale him?

If he is made free of the city,
he can wander where he liles.

- What would Bobby do with leys?
- Sh!

"Greyfriars Bobby, from the lord provost!
Licensed."

Ailie, 'tis the lord provost himself,
and I called him "mister."

If dozens of children who Inow 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 lirlyard of Greyfriars.

But he must have a collar,

so that all the police will Inow him

and never tale 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's free!
- Bobby's free!

Hey, wait! Wait for me!

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?
- Och, aye, of course.

So that's him.

- Hello, Bobby. How ye doin'?
- Hello, Bobby. How are ye?

I'm sorry the door wasn't open,
but I had my hands full.

Here. Come on.

Down here. There.

Good night to ye, Bobby.

Bobby. Almost shut ye out.

I must never do that again.

Will ye no' come in?

What for?

Ohh, to have a wee dram
with Jeanie and myself.

Come.

Good night to ye, Bobby.

Good night, Bobby.

Good night, Bobby.

Good night to ye, Bobby.
I'll see ye in the mornin'.

- Good night, Bobby.
- Good night. Sleep well.

Be out to play with ye
in the mornin'.

Good night, Bobby.

Good night to ye, laddie.

Good night.
Good night, dog. Good night, Bobby.