"For mussy's sake hold yo' tongue, Sam'l Todd! It's clack-clack all
day--" The old man broke off suddenly, and buckled to his work with
suspicious vigor. "Mak' a show yo' bin workin', lad," he whispered.
"Here's Master and oor Bob."

As he spoke, a tall gaitered man with weather-beaten face, strong, lean,
austere, and the blue-gray eyes of the hill-country, came striding into
the yard. And trotting soberly at his heels, with the gravest, saddest
eyes ever you saw, a sheep-dog puppy.

A rare dark gray he was, his long coat, dashed here and there with
lighter touches, like a stormy sea moonlit. Upon his chest an escutcheon
of purest white, and the dome of his head showered, as it were, with
a sprinkling of snow. Perfectly compact, utterly lithe, inimitably
graceful with his airy-fairy action; a gentleman every inch, you could
not help but stare at him--Owd Bob o' Kenmuir.

At the foot of the ladder the two stopped. And the young dog, placing
his forepaws on a lower rung, looked up, slowly waving his silvery
brush.

"A proper Gray Dog!" mused Tammas, gazing down into the dark face
beneath him. "Small, yet big; light to get about on backs o' his sheep,
yet not too light. Wi' a coat hard a-top to keep oot Daleland weather,
soft as sealskin beneath. And wi' them sorrerful eyes on him as niver
goes but wi' a good un. Amaist he minds me o' Rex son o' Rally."

"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" groaned Sam'l. But the old man heard him not.

"Did 'Enry Farewether tell yo' hoo he acted this mornin', Master?" he
inquired, addressing the man at the foot of the ladder.

"Nay," said the other, his stern eyes lighting.

"Why, 'twas this way, it seems," Tammas continued. "Young bull gets
'isseif loose, somegate and marches oot into yard, o'erturns milkpail,
and prods owd pigs i' ribs. And as he stands lookin' about un, thinking'
what he shall be up to next, oor Bob sees un 'An' what yo' doin' here,
Mr. Bull?' he seems to say, cockin' his ears and trottin' up gay-like.
Wi' that bull bloats fit to bust 'isseif, lashes wi's tail, waggles his
head, and gets agate o' chargin' 'im. But Bob leaps oot o' way, quick
as lightnin' yet cool as butter, and when he's done his foolin drives un
back agin."

"Who seed all this?" interposed Sam'l, sceptically.

"'Enry Farewether from the loft. So there, Fat'ead!" Tammas replied, and
continued his tale. "So they goes on; bull chargin' and Bob drivin'
un back and back, hoppin' in and oot agin, quiet as a cow