Indeed he had a good head on him!  Bobby never needed a second lesson.  At Silver Mills and Canon Mills he came out and trotted warily around the dam.  Where the gorge widened to a valley toward the sea they all climbed up to Leith Walk, that ran to the harbor, and came out to a wonder-world of water-craft anchored in the Firth.  Each boy picked out his ship to go adventuring.

“I’m gangin’ to Norway!”

Geordie was scornful.  “Hoots, ye tame pussies.  Ye’re fleid o’ gettin’ yer feet wat.  I’ll be rinnin’ aff to be a pirate.  Come awa’ doon.”

They followed the leader along shore and boarded an abandoned and evil-smelling fishingboat.  There they ran up a ragged jacket for a black flag.  But sailing a stranded craft palled presently.

“Nae, I’m gangin’ to be a Crusoe.  Preserve me!  If there’s no’ a futprint i’ the sand Bobby’s ma sma’ man Friday.”

Away they ran southward to find a castaway’s shelter in a hollow on the golf links.  Soon this was transformed into a wrecker’s den, and then into the hiding-place of a harried Covenanter fleeing religious persecution.  Daring things to do swarmed in upon their minds, for Edinburgh laddies live in a city of romantic history, of soldiers, of near-by mountains, and of sea rovings.  No adventure served them five minutes, and Bobby was in every one.  Ah, lucky Bobby, to have such gay playfellows on a sunny afternoon and under foot the open country!

And fortunate laddies to have such a merry rascal of a wee dog with them!  To the mile they ran, Bobby went five, scampering in wide circles and barking and louping at butterflies and whaups.  He made a detour to the right to yelp saucily at the red-coated sentry who paced before the Gothic gateway to the deserted Palace of Holyrood, and as far to the left to harry the hoofs of a regiment of cavalry drilling before the barracks at Piershill.  He raced on ahead and swam out to scatter the fleet of swan sailing or the blue mirror of Duddingston Loch.

The tired boys lay blissfully up the sunny side of Arthur’s Seat in a thicket of hazel while Geordie carried out a daring plan for which privacy was needed.  Bobby was solemnly arraigned before a court on the charge of being a seditious Covenanting meenister, and was required to take the oath of loyalty to English King and Church on pain of being hanged in the Grassmarket.  The oath had been duly written out on paper and greased with mutton tallow to make it more palatable.  Bobby licked the fat off with relish.  Then he took the paper between his sharp little teeth and merrily tore it to shreds.  And, having finished it, he barked cheerful defiance at the court.  The lads came near rolling down the slope with laughter, and they gave three cheers for the little hero.  Sandy remarked, “Ye wadna think, noo, sic a sonsie doggie wad be leevin’ i’ the murky auld kirkyaird.”

Bobby had learned the lay of the tipped-up and scooped-out and jumbled auld toon, and he led the way homeward along the southern outskirts of the city.  He turned up Nicolson Street, that ran northward, past the University and the old infirmary.  To get into Greyfriars Place from the east at that time one had to descend to the Cowgate and climb out again.  Bobby darted down the first of the narrow wynds.