Poetry & Gabriel in Scotland - Chapter 5: Here We Come Again Edinburgh

Chapter 5 – Here We Come Again Edinburgh

Old Town Edinburgh was like going into another century.  It was where Greyfriar’s Bobby lived so Gabriel was a little familiar with it already.  It wasn’t a long walk from Poetry’s house to the monument on Carlton Hill.  From there you could see most of the city.  “So, what do you think?” Poetry asked.  

“It’s fantastic!  You can see forever from here.”

It was a clear sunny day so the view was unimpeded.  They walked about the monument for a while, then Gabriel said, “Race you to the bottom!”

“OK, you’re on.”

That was their first mistake.

“Uh, oh.  We did it again!  How could I forget that running is what breaks the time barrier?”  The horses and carts were a dead give away.

“I bet it’s 1786,” Poetry said breathlessly.  “Maybe we’ll get to actually meet Robert Burns!”  

But Gabriel was feeling too nervous about the dogcatcher to get excited.

“I don’t think they had them yet during the 1700’s,” Poetry offered.  “We should be safe enough.  Let’s go to the printer in Anchor Close to see if he’s arrived there yet.” 

It only took them about a quarter hour to get there.  They peeked in the window, but only saw the printer and his helpers setting type.  It would help if we knew what day it was.  That might give us some clues where to look for Mr. Burns.  But how to find that out since they couldn’t read?  

Next door was a tavern and loud noises were coming out each time the door opened.

“Maybe we’ll overhear someone saying the date if we wait here for a while,” Gabriel suggested.  “It’s worth a try.”

They must have waited over an hour with no luck.

“Let’s try the house he’s to stay at in Baxter’s Close,” Poetry said.

“Might as well,” Gabriel agreed.  So off they went.  They couldn’t see in through the windows so they ran around back.  That was their second mistake.  They were in an alley and there was a huge alley cat searching the garbage heaps.  He didn’t like his territory being invaded by the likes of two strangers.  Poetry and Gabriel skidded to a halt.  The alley cat hissed and hunched his back.  Gabriel took his stance and let out a menacing growl.  He hadn’t realized that was something he could do.  He’d only been a dog for a little while after all.  The alley cat got the message.  He turned and ran off.  

“That was close!” Poetry meowed with relief.

“Well, what do you know,” Gabriel barked feeling King of the Hill.  Poetry looked side long at her companion and clucked her tongue.

“Don’t let it go to your head!  Let’s stick to the business at hand.”

They squeezed under the fence and approached the back of the house.  Just then they heard the clatter of horses’ hooves in the cobblestone lane in front of the house.  Poetry thought quickly.  “Let’s hide in the bushes until we see who it is.”  They didn’t have to wait long.  The poet himself came strolling into the back yard.

“My, this is a fine property!  The garden is lovely—quite inspiring, indeed!” Mr. Burns mused aloud.

Just then Gabriel ran out into the open.  “Oh no!” cried Poetry.  “What are you doing Gabriel?”

Gabriel barked a few times as Robert Burns turned around and smiled.  “Ah—There thee are ma (my) wee friend.  How are thou?”  Poetry crept out from under the bush and presented herself, too.  “And wha (who) is thy friend there?”

Poetry meowed a polite greeting.  "Are thee peckish (hungry)?" At this point Mr. Burns called to someone in the house.  “Have thee a bit of banger (sausage) for ma friends here?”

Soon Poetry and Gabriel were eating bits of sausage out of the poet’s hand, meowing and barking in between bites as Mr. Burns recited his “To A Mouse” poem to them…..

Wee, sleekit, cowran, tim'rous beastie, 
O, what a panic's in thy breastie! 
Thou need na start awa sae hasty, 
Wi' bickering brattle! 
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee, 
Wi' murd'ring pattle!

I'm truly sorry Man's dominion 
Has broken Nature's social union, 
An' justifies that ill opinion, 
Which makes thee startle, 
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion, 
An' fellow-mortal!

I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve; 
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live! 
A daimen-icker in a thrave 'S a sma' request: 
I'll get a blessin wi' the lave, 
An' never miss't!

Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin! 
It's silly wa's the win's are strewin! 
An' naething, now, to big a new ane, 
O' foggage green! 
An' bleak December's winds ensuin, 
Baith snell an' keen!

Thou saw the fields laid bare an' wast, 
An' weary Winter comin fast, 
An' cozie here, beneath the blast, 
Thou thought to dwell, 
Till crash! the cruel coulter past 
Out thro' thy cell.

That wee-bit heap o' leaves an' stibble, 
Has cost thee monie a weary nibble! 
Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble, 
But house or hald. 
To thole the Winter's sleety dribble, 
An' cranreuch cauld!

But Mousie, thou are no thy-lane, 
In proving foresight may be vain: 
The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men, 
Gang aft agley, 
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain, 
For promis'd joy!

Still, thou art blest, compar'd wi' me! 
The present only toucheth thee: 
But Och! I backward cast my e'e, 
On prospects drear! 
An' forward, tho' I canna see, 
I guess an' fear!

After he finished his recitation he smiled and said, “Well, Lad and Lassie I must take ma leave.”  He tipped his hat to them and retreated to the house.

“Boy, can you believe that?” Gabriel exclaimed.  Poetry just nodded looking all dreamy-eyed to meet a real poet and a famous one at that!

Once they gathered their wits about them they crawled back under the fence to the alley, looking cautiously before they scooted under.

“Now what?” Poetry asked.

“I guess we should go back to Carton Hill and run backwards up the hill,” Gabriel said.

It did not take them long to get there, but once there they surveyed the hill.  “Hmmm,” Gabriel murmured.  “I don’t think I’m going to be able to run nearly as fast backwards up that hill as we ran foreword down it.”  He gave it a try anyway and when nothing happened collapsed onto the ground panting.

“Oh, dear.” Poetry fretted.  “Now what do we do?”  No sooner than the words left her mouth Poetry saw a little boy pulling a small wagon behind him.  She whispered in Gabriel’s ear.  “See that wagon?  What if I sit in it backwards while you pull it while running up the hill?  Do you think that will do the trick?”

“We’ll see,” Gabriel said.  “But how are we to get the wagon?”

“Oh, yeah, I suppose the boy isn’t just going to give it to usl…..hmmmmm.”  Then another idea struck Poetry.  “See that ball over there by that tree?”  Gabriel looked and nodded yes.  “You go get it then run over to the boy and show it to him.  Then run off with it.  Hopefully, he’ll think you want to play catch.  He’ll run after you leaving his wagon behind.  I’ll get it set in the right direction and get in backwards.  Then you drop the ball and run to the wagon, pick up the rope, and run like mad up the hill!”  Poetry’s eyes were bright with excitement.  Gabriel couldn’t refuse her.  He had to at least give it a try.  

Everything went as planned.  Once at the top of the hill they were both back in the present time and soon on their way home.


©CathyGilleylenSchultz

Chapter 6:  A Surprise Waits