She told them all about a pretty country place near London.  It was called Holly Lodge because its hedges were bright with green leaves and red berries, even in winter.  A lady who had no family at all lived there, and to keep her company she had all sorts of pets.  Peter and Prince were the dearest dogs, and Cocky was a parrot that could say the most amusing things.  Sir Garnet was the llama goat, or sheep—­she didn’t know which.  There was a fat and lazy old pony that had long been pensioned off on oats and clover, and—­oh yes—­the white donkey must not be forgotten!

“O-o-o-oh!  I didna ken there wad be ony white donkeys!” cried a big-eyed laddie.

“There cannot be many, and there’s a story about how the lady came to have this one.  One day, driving in a poor street, she saw a coster—­that is a London peddler—­beating his tired donkey that refused to pull the load.  The lady got out of her carriage, fed the animal some carrots from the cart, talked kindly to him right into his big, surprised ear, and stroked his nose.  Presently the poor beast felt better and started off cheerfully with the heavy cart.  When many costers learned that it was not only wicked but foolish to abuse their patient animals, they hunted for a white donkey to give the lady.  They put a collar of flowers about his neck, and brought him up on a platform before a crowd of people.  Everybody laughed, for he was a clumsy and comical beast to be decorated with roses and daisies.  But the lady is proud of him, and now that pampered donkey has nothing to do but pull her Bath chair about, when she is at Holly Lodge, and kick up his heels on a clover pasture.”

“Are ye kennin’ anither tale, Leddy?”

“Oh, a number of them.  Prince, the fox terrier, was ill once, and the doctor who came to see him said his mistress gave him too much to eat.  That was very probable, because that lady likes to see children and animals have too much to eat.  There are dozens and dozens of poor children that the lady knows and loves.  Once they lived in a very dark and dirty and crowded tenement, quite as bad as some that were torn down in the Cowgate and the Grassmarket.”

“It mak’s ye fecht ane anither,” said one laddie, soberly.  “Gin they had a sonsie doggie like Bobby to lo’e, an’ an auld kirkyaird wi’ posies an’ birdies to leuk into, they wadna fecht sae muckle.”

“I’m very sure of that.  Well, the lady built a new tenement with plenty of room and light and air, and a market so they can get better food more cheaply, and a large church, that is also a kind of school where big and little people can learn many things.  She gives the children of the neighborhood a Christmas dinner and a gay tree, and she strips the hedges of Holly Lodge for them, and then she takes Peter and Prince, and Cocky the parrot, to help along the fun, and she tells her newest stories.  Next Christmas she means to tell the story of Greyfriars Bobby, and how all his little Scotch friends are better-behaving and cleaner and happier because they have that wee dog to love.”