ubislaw granite; his hair short, hard, and close, like a lion's;
his body thick-set, like a little bull--a sort of compressed Hercules
of a dog. He must have been ninety pounds' weight, at the least; he
had a large, blunt head; his muzzle black as night; his mouth blacker
than any night; a tooth or two--being all he had--gleaming out of his
jaws of darkness. His head was scarred with the records of old wounds,
a sort of series of fields of battles all over it; one eye out, one
ear cropped as close as was Archbishop Leighton's father's; the
remaining eye had the power of two; and above it, and in constant
communication with it, was a tattered rag of an ear, which was forever
unfurling itself, like an old flag; and then that bud of a tail, about
one inch long, if it could in any sense be said to be long, being as
broad as long--the mobility, the instantaneousness of that bud were
very funny and surprising, and its expressive twinklings and winkings,
the intercommunications between the eye, the ear, and it, were of the
oddest and swiftest.

Rab had the dignity and simplicity of great size; and, having fought
his way all along the road to absolute supremacy, he was as mighty in
his own line as Julius Caesar or the Duke of Wellington, and had the
gravity of all great fighters.

You must have often observed the likeness of certain men to certain
animals, and of certain dogs to men. Now, I never looked at Rab
without thinking of the great Baptist preacher, Andrew Fuller. The
same large, heavy, menacing, combative, sombre, honest countenance,
the same deep, inevitable eye; the same look, as of thunder asleep,
but ready--neither a dog nor a man to be trifled with.

Next day my master, the surgeon, examined Ailie. There could be no
doubt it must kill her, and soon. If it could be removed--it might
never return--it would give her speedy relief--she should have it
done. She curtsied, looked at James, and said, "When?" "To-morrow,"
said the kind surgeon--a man of few words. She and James and Rab and
I retired. I noticed that he and she spoke little, but seemed to
anticipate everything in each other. The following day, at noon,
the students came in, hurrying up the great stair. At the first
landing-place, on a small, well-known blackboard, was a bit of paper
fastened by wafers, and many remains of old wafers beside it. On the
paper were the words:

"An operation to-day.--J.B., _Clerk_."

Up ran the youths, eager to secure good