Rab and His Friends | Page 4

him the story, which Bob and I always thought,
and still think, Homer, or King David, or Sir Walter, alone were worthy
to rehearse. The severe little man was mitigated, and condescended to
say, "Rab, ma man, puir Rabbie!"--whereupon the stump of a tail rose
up, the ears were cocked, the eyes filled, and were comforted; the two
friends were reconciled. "Hupp!" and a stroke of the whip were given
to Jess; and off went the three.
Bob and I buried the Game Chicken that night (we had not much of a
tea) in the back-green of his house, in Melville Street, No. 17, with
consideiable gravity and silence; and being at the time in the Iliad, and,
like all boys, Trojans, we called him Hector, of course.

Six years have passed,--a long time for a boy and a dog: Bob Ainslie is
off to the wars; I am a medical student, and clerk at Minto House
Hospital. Rab I saw almost every week, on the Wednesday; and we had
much pleasant intimacy. I found the way to his heart by frequent
scratching of his huge head, and an occasional bone. When I did not
notice him he would plant himself straight before me, and stand
wagging that bud of a tail, and looking up, with his head a little to the
one side. His master I occasionally saw; he used to call me "Maister
John," but was laconic as any Spartan.
One fine October afternoon, I was leaving the hospital, when I saw the
large gate open, and in walked Rab, with that great and easy saunter of
his. He looked as if taking general possession of the place; like the
Duke of Wellington entering a subdued city, satiated with victory and
peace. After him came Jess, now white from age, with her cart, and in it

a woman carefully wrapped up,--the carrier leading the horse anxiously,
and looking back. When he saw me, James (for his name was James
Noble) made a curt and grotesque "boo," and said, "Maister John, this
is the mistress; she's got a trouble in her breest,--some kind o' an
income, we're thinkin'."
By this time I saw the woman's face; she was sitting on a sack filled
with straw, her husband's plaid round her, and his big-coat, with its
large white metal buttons, over her feet.
I never saw a more unforgettable face,--pale, serious, LONELY,
[Footnote: It is not easy giving this look by one word: it was expressive
of her being so much of her life alone.] delicate, sweet, without being at
all what we call fine. She looked sixty, and had on a mutch, white as
snow, with its black ribbon; her silvery, smooth hair setting off her
dark-gray eyes,--eyes such as one sees only twice or thrice in a lifetime,
full of suffering, full also of the overcoming of it; her eyebrows
[Footnote: "Black brows, they say, Become some women best; so that
there be not Too much hair there, BUT IN A SEMICIRCLE OR A
HALF-MOON MADE WITH A PEN."--A WINTER'S TALE.] black
and delicate, and her mouth firm, patient, and contented, which few
mouths ever are.
As I have said, I never saw a more beautiful countenance, or one more
subdued to settled quiet. "Ailie," said James, "this is Maister John, the
young doctor; Rab's freend, ye ken. We often speak aboot you, doctor."
She smiled, and made a movement, but said nothing, and prepared to
come down, putting her plaid aside and rising. Had Solomon, in all his
glory, been handing down the Queen of Sheba at his palace gate, he
could not have done it more daintily, more tenderly, more like a
gentleman, than did James the Howgate carrier, when he lifted down
Ailie his wife. The contrast of his small, swarthy, weather-beaten, keen,
worldly face to hers--pale, subdued, and beautiful--was something
wonderful. Rab looked on concerned and puzzled, but ready for
anything that might turn up,--were it to strangle the nurse, the porter, or
even me. Ailie and he seemed great friends.
"As I was sayin', she's got a kind o' trouble in her breest, doctor: wull
ye tak' a look at it?" We walked into the consulting-room, all four, Rab
grim and comic, willing to be happy and confidential if cause could be
shown, willing also to be the reverse on the same terms. Ailie sat down,

undid her open gown and her lawn handkerchief round her neck, and,
without a word, showed me her right breast. I looked at and examined
it carefully,--she and James watching me, and Rab eying all three.
What could I say? There it was, that had once been so soft, so shapely,
so white, so gracious and bountiful, so "full of all blessed
conditions,"--hard as a stone, a centre