All language subtitles for Greyfriars.Bobby.The.True.Story.Of.A.Dog.1961.1080p.WEBRip.x264.AAC-[YTS.MX]

- (BAGPIPE MUSIC PLAYS)
- (SHEEP BLEATING)

Downloaded from
YTS.MX

NARRATOR: This is the true story
of a dog

who lived almost a century ago.

Official YIFY movies site:
YTS.MX

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)

(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)

- 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)

- (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.