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 DIRECTIONS
Edinburgh

Up-to-date DIRECTIONS
Inspired IDEAS
User-friendly MAPS

ACCURATE RELIABLE INFORMATIVE

Edinburgh
DI R E C T I O N S

WRITTEN AND RESEARCHED BY

Donald Reid

NEW YORK • LONDON • DELHI

www.roughguides.com
2

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 Contents

C ONT ENT S
South of the Royal Mile ....................................... 90
Introduction 4 Along Princes Street............................................ 102
The New Town ............................................................ 110
Calton Hill and Broughton............................. 119
Ideas 9 Along the Water of Leith................................. 126
Leith ........................................................................................ 133
The big six ........................................................................... 10 North and west Edinburgh ........................... 139
Edinburgh Festival ..................................................... 12 South Edinburgh....................................................... 145
Royal Edinburgh ........................................................... 14 South Queensferry and the Forth
A taste of Edinburgh................................................ 16 Bridges ........................................................................... 151
Theatre and music .................................................... 18
Medieval Edinburgh ................................................. 20
Dead Edinburgh .......................................................... 22
Literary Edinburgh ..................................................... 24 Accommodation 157
Galleries and museums .................................... 26 Hotels, self-catering apartments,
Sports and activities................................................ 28 guesthouses and B&Bs.................................... 159
Traditional pubs............................................................. 30 Hostels ................................................................................. 167
Classical Edinburgh .................................................. 32
Restaurants and cafés ........................................ 34
Secret Edinburgh......................................................... 36
Gourmet Edinburgh .................................................. 38
Essentials 169
Clubs and bars ............................................................... 40 Arrival and getting around ........................... 171
Gay Edinburgh ................................................................ 42 Information...................................................................... 172
Indulgent Edinburgh ................................................ 44 Entertainment .............................................................. 173
Festivals and events ................................................ 46 The Edinburgh Festival..................................... 176
Green places..................................................................... 48 Events calendar ........................................................ 180
Edinburgh views........................................................... 50 Directory ............................................................................ 181
Kids’ Edinburgh ............................................................. 52
Modern architecture ................................................ 54
Eccentric Edinburgh................................................. 56
small print & Index 183
Shopping ............................................................................... 58
Nautical Edinburgh .................................................... 60
Art outdoors ....................................................................... 62
Colour maps
Central Edinburgh
Places 65 Greater Edinburgh
The Royal Mile................................................................ 67 Edinburgh Festival Venues
Holyrood and Arthur’s Seat ............................. 82 Chapter Locator Map
 4
Introduction to

Edinburgh
INT R ODU C T ION

Laid out over a series of volcanic hills and with its jag-
ged skyline topped by the craggy castle, few European
cities can boast Edinburgh’s dramatic impact. The
cobbled medieval closes, steep stairways and hidden
courtyards of the labyrinthine Old Town, along with the
wide thoroughfares and grand Neoclassical facades of
the eighteenth-century New Town, together constitute
a World Heritage Site – a historic treasure that’s also the
heart of the living, working city.
With everything from
tightly packed tenement
houses to faux Venetian
palaces and dynamic con-
temporary constructions,
Edinburgh is a compel-
lingly theatrical place
– awash with history yet
refreshingly modern, and
as thick with pomp and
grandeur as it is intimate
and friendly. Its centre is
remarkably compact, and
the majority of the main sights are within easy walking distance of
each other. The city is also characterized by extensive green spaces:
you can climb to the top of Arthur’s Seat to look over Edinburgh
and its suburbs, walk along the verdant Water of Leith, or stand by

When to visit
Edinburgh’s typically British climate means a clear seasonal divide
between frost- and snow-tinged winters, blustery and colourful springs,
warm (but rarely hot) summers and golden, then gloomy, autumns. The
east coast location ensures slightly less rainfall than western Scotland,
though sharp and sometimes bitter winds blow in off the North Sea. The
coldest months are January and February, with an average daily tempera-
ture of 6˚C; in July the average is 18˚C; late spring (May) and early autumn
(September) are often good times to visit, offering welcome spells of bright
weather and less of the high season’s tourist scrum. With the Festival in
full swing, August is perhaps the most exciting time to be in Edinburgh,
though be prepared for huge crowds.

Contents Introduction
 5

INT RODU C T IO N

왖 Edinburgh cityscape

the breezy shores of the Firth of Forth and admire the gigantic
geometric girders of the Forth Rail Bridge.
Edinburgh’s status as Scot-
왔

tish capital has endowed it

Fringe posters

with an outstanding collec-

tion of national institutions,
from museums and mag-
nificent art collections to a
controversial but intriguing
new parliament building, as
well as a host of more popu-
list attractions that include
a high-tech science centre
and the world’s best indoor
climbing facility. And while
the city is rich in heritage, it’s
also confident in its role as
a thoroughly modern Euro-
pean capital. The prevailing

Contents Introduction
 6

왔
Old Town
INT R ODU C T ION

conservatism is cast aside both in the flair of the annual Festival,

which transforms Edinburgh into a giant celebration of the arts and
entertainment, and in the hedonism of the New Year party, Hogma-
nay, when thousands of revellers
왖

throng the streets and the skies

Buskers, Royal Mile

explode with fireworks. Theatres,

live-music venues and art galler-
ies provide rich cultural pickings
throughout the year, while the old
wood-lined pubs, cosmopolitan
cafés and clubs, dramatic rooftop
restaurants and busy seafood bistros
provide all the evidence you need
of a city charged with spirit and
life among its old stones.

Contents Introduction
 Edinburgh
AT A GLANCE

INT RODU C T IO N
Leith

왔
Leith
The port of Edinburgh, Leith is just
as historic as the city – if rather
less well preserved and fringed by
some grim housing estates. The old
harbour, however, now holds some
fine seafood restaurants, while the
redeveloped former docklands are
the retirement home of that epito-
me of the British establishment, the
Royal Yacht Britannia.
왖
Water of Leith

Water of Leith
Little more than a meandering
stream, the Water of Leith threads
its way through the suburbs in the
north of the city, with an accompa-
nying walkway offering a verdant,
leafy passage between non-tour-
isty districts such as Stockbridge,
Inverleith and Dean Village.
왔
New Town

New Town
A masterpiece of early town plan-
ning, with row upon elegant row
of impressive Georgian houses
intermixed with haughty Neoclas-
sical monuments, the New Town’s
oldest quarter has been colonized
by department stores and offices.
Explore further and you’ll discover
attractive residential enclaves as
well as bohemian Broughton, the
focus of Edinburgh’s gay scene.

Contents Introduction
 8 왔 Old Town

Old Town
This is the core of historic Edin-
burgh, with the centrepiece Royal
Mile and its string of key attrac-
tions running east from the castle
down to Holyrood, home of the
INT R ODU C T ION

royal palace and brand-new

parliament. The tangled passage-
ways and courtyards which lead
off the Mile are far less touristy,
and remain evocative of the area’s
medieval character.

Holyrood Park
Just half a mile from the city cen-
tre, this vast public park covers as
large an area as the Old and New
Towns combined. Mostly made up
of rough, hilly terrain that offers
some terrific walks, it incorporates
the 823-foot peak of Arthur’s Seat
as well as the striking Salisbury
Crags cliffs.
왖
Holyrood Park

Contents Introduction
 Ideas

Contents Ideas
10
The big six Part of the
pleasure of visiting
Edinburgh is in
simply wandering
with no fixed
agenda, through
narrow closes and
up vertiginous
steps, or along
the grand avenues
of the New Town. But
there are some landmark
Calton Hill
sights that you really Studded with a bizarre collection of Neoclas-
sical architecture, this is the best of many
shouldn’t miss. These great viewpoints from which to gaze out
encapsulate what’s great over the city.
P.119  CALTON HILL AND
about Scotland’s capital, BROUGHTON
where history, heritage
and dramatic views mix
with impressive buildings
from many eras, including
a number of dynamic
modern constructions.

Forth Rail Bridge

The gigantic girders of this iconic monument
to Victorian engineering span the Firth of
Forth just north of Edinburgh.
P.154  SOUTH QUEENSFERRY
AND THE FORTH BRIDGES

Contents Ideas
 11
 The Royal Mile
One of the world’s most famous streets, with
every cobbled inch resonant with history and
atmosphere.
P.67  THE ROYAL MILE

National Museum of
Scotland
This impressive piece of contemporary
design is a worthy home for Scotland’s
national historic treasures.
P.93  SOUTH OF THE ROYAL MILE

 Edinburgh Castle
This mighty historic fortress, perched atop
its impregnable rock, is compelling from all
angles as well as from within.
P.67  THE ROYAL MILE

Scottish Parliament
Overflowing with imagery, quirky design and
controversy, and now one of the city’s star
attractions.
P.84  HOLYROOD AND ARTHUR’S
SEAT

Contents Ideas
12
 Fireworks concert
Edinburgh Festival The Edinburgh
Festival is one of This spectacular and free Festival climax
lights up the night sky above the castle.
the greatest shows P.177  ESSENTIALS
on earth, a month
of cultural gluttony
and mind-boggling
artistic activity. Every
performance space
– from the grandest
concert halls to pub
courtyards – plays
host to a packed
programme of arts
and entertainment,
ranging from
orchestral
performances to stand-up
comedy, ground-breaking
theatre to avant-garde
cinema. Whether you’re
dashing around a dozen  International Festival
This highbrow event draws world-class
shows in a day or checking orchestras, choirs, dance and theatre com-
out the street performers, panies to Edinburgh.
P.176  ESSENTIALS
Edinburgh in August is an
essential experience.

Contents Ideas
 13
 The Fringe
Posters, flyers and leaflets plaster the city’s
walls, windows and lampposts advertising
the Fringe’s 1500 daily shows.
P.177  ESSENTIALS

Street theatre
During the Festival the Royal Mile becomes
one elongated stage.
P.176  ESSENTIALS  Edinburgh International
Book Festival
This hugely popular fortnight features read-
ings, discussions and interviews with well-
known authors.
P.178  ESSENTIALS

Comedy
A successful Fringe stand-up show is the
benchmark of success for almost every
comedian in Britain.
P.177  ESSENTIALS

Contents Ideas
14
Royal Edinburgh The monarch
need not be at her
official Edinburgh
residence for the
capital to adopt the
trappings of a royal
city. The lives of the
Stewarts (six kings
named James,
plus Mary, Queen
of Scots) were
intricately involved
with Edinburgh
for centuries – it
was from Holyrood
that James VI departed
for London to unite the
thrones of Britain. Today,
the Castle secures
Scotland’s crown jewels
and coronation stone,
while Leith harbours
that most quintessential
emblem of the British
royalty abroad, the Royal
Yacht Britannia.

Edinburgh Castle
The castle’s permanent military garrison
help guard the “Honours”, or crown jewels,
of Scotland.
P.67  THE ROYAL MILE

Contents Ideas
 15
 Queen’s Gallery
Precious art and artefacts from the rarely
seen Royal Collection are displayed in this
attractive new gallery at Holyrood.
P.83  HOLYROOD AND ARTHUR’S
SEAT

Thistle Chapel, High Kirk

of St Giles
This beautiful side-chapel is used by the
Queen to install Knights of the Thistle, the
highest chivalric order in Scotland.
P.73  THE ROYAL MILE

 Royal Yacht Britannia

Now enjoying dignified retirement in Leith,
Britannia offers an intriguing insight into
Britain’s recent royal heritage.
P.135  LEITH

Palace of Holyroodhouse
An impressive introduction into the lives and
loves of the Scottish kings and queens.
P.82  HOLYROOD AND ARTHUR’S
SEAT

Contents Ideas
16
 Irn Bru
A taste of Edinburgh Scottish food
has a somewhat It’s sweet, sticky and it’s bright orange, yet
Irn Bru is the nation’s favourite fizzy drink:
unfortunate you’ll find it on sale all over town.
reputation, the P.149  SOUTH EDINBURGH

locals’ predilection
for deep fried
suppers and sugar-
packed delicacies
overshadowing the
undoubted quality
of the country’s
seafood, meat,
game and soft fruit.
In Edinburgh you
can try both, from
lip-smacking fast
food to exquisitely
prepared modern Scottish
cuisine. The home-grown
favourite among soft
drinks is the rust-coloured  Modern Scottish cuisine
Irn Bru, while if you’ve a Edinburgh’s top chefs are adept at using
Scottish produce such as Aberdeen Angus
taste for the harder stuff at the heart of their most inspired culinary
look for the excellent creations.
P.80  THE ROYAL MILE
selection of locally
produced beers and
smooth malt whisky.

Contents Ideas
 17
 Luca’s ice cream
The Scots’ sweet tooth has ensured a
discerning taste for ice cream – the local
favourite by far is Luca’s creamy vanilla.
P.149  SOUTH EDINBURGH

Pint of 80/-
Eighty shilling ale, or “heavy”, is a traditional
Scots beer, brown in colour but sweeter and
smoother than English bitter.
P.101  SOUTH OF THE ROYAL MILE  Glenkinchie whisky
Known as “the lowland malt”, Glenkinchie is
an easy-drinking single malt whisky made in
East Lothian, just outside Edinburgh.
P.70  THE ROYAL MILE

Fish and chips

When it comes to fast food, there’s nothing
more satisfying than a fish supper.
P.79  THE ROYAL MILE

Contents Ideas
18
Theatre and music Thankfully,
Edinburgh’s cultural
life doesn’t shut
down for the
eleven months
of the year that
the city spends
recovering from the
festival. An array of
excellent venues,
some serious
local talent and a
deeply embedded
appreciation of
music, song and
performance combine
to ensure an impressive
variety of theatre and
music across the city
year-round, from touring
performances of the Royal
Shakespeare Company to
an impromptu folk or jazz
session.

Henry’s Jazz Bar

This atmospheric basement venue hosts
Edinburgh’s most consistent lineup of local
and touring jazz acts.
P.174  ESSENTIALS

Contents Ideas
 19
 Usher Hall
The city’s dignified old concert hall hosts the
world’s top orchestras as well as big-name
rock and pop acts.
P.174  ESSENTIALS

Sandy Bell’s
A small traditional pub, where friends with
fiddles tend to meet – and invariably strike
up a tune or two.
P.174  ESSENTIALS

 Festival Theatre
The prime place in town for national and
international ballet and opera performances.
P.175  ESSENTIALS

Traverse Theatre
Consistently impressive, staging ground-
breaking new writing and innovative
contemporary drama.
P.175  ESSENTIALS

Contents Ideas
20
 Holyrood Abbey
Medieval Edinburgh Few European
capitals have These atmospheric remains are a poignant
memorial to the destructive religious wars
preserved the which dominated medieval Scotland.
medieval era so P.83  HOLYROOD AND ARTHUR’S
SEAT
resonantly as
Edinburgh, in grand
buildings such
as the High Kirk
of St Giles and
ruined Holyrood
Abbey, and in the
haphazard layout of
the Old Town itself.
With its narrow
 Canongate Kirk
passageways off
This gracefully simple seventeenth-century
the Royal Mile church boasts the city’s most attractive his-
toric graveyard.
leading to tightly
P.76  THE ROYAL MILE
packed tenement houses
which rise a giddying eight
or nine storeys, a wander
through the cobbled
streets here can take you
straight back through the
centuries.

Contents Ideas
 21
 Parliament Square
The symbolic heart of the Old Town is domi-
nated by the distinctive fifteenth-century
crown spire of the High Kirk of St Giles.
P.72  THE ROYAL MILE

Grassmarket and Victoria

Street
Tall tenements crowd around this rough-
and-tumble Old Town quarter, notable for its
quirky shops and friendly pubs.
P.90  SOUTH OF THE ROYAL MILE
 Gladstone’s Land
The best preserved of the Royal Mile’s tene-
ments, this creaking, dark building gives a
glimpse of medieval life in the city.
P.71  THE ROYAL MILE

Inchcolm
This tranquil island holds Scotland’s finest
original medieval abbey, and affords sweep-
ing views back to Edinburgh.
P.154  SOUTH QUEENSFERRY
AND THE FORTH BRIDGES

Contents Ideas
22
Dead Edinburgh There’s a distinctly
sinister and
macabre edge
to Edinburgh’s
history, and if you
join a tour of the
old cemeteries or
walk through the
narrow corridors of
the Old Town after
dusk, you’re bound
to absorb some of
this rather creepy
atmosphere. The
dead are given life here
in less spooky ways,
too, whether through the
legions of visitors who
Surgeon’s Hall Museum
research the details of A wonderfully macabre museum dedicated
to surgery, anatomy and pathology.
long-forgotten ancestors P.96  SOUTH OF THE ROYAL MILE
at Edinburgh’s archives,
or by having a few drinks
by the site of the city’s old
gallows.

Ancestor research
Clamber around your family tree via the
extensive resources of the General Register
Office, the National Archives of Scotland and
the National Library.
P.102  ALONG PRINCES STREET

Contents Ideas
 23
 Ghost tours
Let costumed characters lead you on spine-
tingling visits to the graveyards and haunted
corners of Edinburgh’s underworld.
P.69  THE ROYAL MILE

Calton Old Burial Ground

A wealth of intriguing gravestones and
 Greyfriars Bobby statue memorials to citizens both famous and
Edinburgh’s most sentimental statue, hon- obscure.
ouring the loyal terrier who watched over his P.119  CALTON HILL AND
master’s grave for fourteen years. BROUGHTON
P.93  SOUTH OF THE ROYAL MILE

The Last Drop Tavern

This convivial pub pays tribute to the public
hangings which once took place across
the road.
P.101  SOUTH OF THE ROYAL MILE

Contents Ideas
24
 Literary pub tour
Literary Edinburgh Edinburgh status
as UNESCO’s A convivial jaunt in words and whisky
around the pubs frequented by the city’s
first World City famous writers.
of Literature is P.69  THE ROYAL MILE

testament to the
writers, poets and
publishers who
have moulded its
prominent literary
culture. Lions
such as Sir Walter
Scott and Robert
Louis Stevenson
enjoy numerous
memorials and
references around
 Scott Monument
Edinburgh, while literary
This huge Gothic rocket on Princes Street
tours allow you to follow commemorates Sir Walter Scott, author of
Ivanhoe and the Waverley novels.
up local links with many
P.106  ALONG PRINCES STREET
other characters and
authors, from Sherlock
Holmes and Harry Potter
to Irvine Welsh and Ian
Rankin.

Contents Ideas
 25
 Writers’ museum
Reams of memorabilia relating to Edin-
burgh’s greatest literary giants: Walter Scott,
Robert Louis Stevenson and Robert Burns.
P.72  THE ROYAL MILE

McNaughtan’s bookshop
The best of the city’s secondhand book-
shops, stacked high with well-thumbed
novels and pristine first editions.
P.124  CALTON HILL AND
BROUGHTON
 Elephant House
One of the Old Town cafés where J.K. Rowl-
ing sought a warm corner to scribble the
first Harry Potter story.
P.98  SOUTH OF THE ROYAL MILE

Oxford Bar
Still unspoiled, this is the preferred drinking
spot of both Inspector Rebus and his creator,
Ian Rankin.
P.118  THE NEW TOWN

Contents Ideas
26
Galleries and museums In its art galleries
and museums,
Edinburgh has
all the wealth
and privilege of a
capital city, with
Scotland’s finest
art and artefacts
presented in a
series of impressive
buildings. The
national collections
here are not
daunting in size,
with most relatively
easy to digest in
an hour or two’s
Royal Museum of Scotland
viewing, and entry The airy iron-framed nineteenth-century
interior houses a wealth of antiquities from
to almost all is free. around the world.
Venture beyond P.94  SOUTH OF THE ROYAL MILE

them, and you’ll also find a

rich, varied range of private
and commercial galleries
showcasing vibrant
contemporary talent.

Fruitmarket Gallery
The city’s most dynamic exhibition space,
devoted to changing exhibitions of interna-
tional twenty-first century art.
P.104  ALONG PRINCES STREET

Contents Ideas
 27
 National Gallery of Scotland
The intimate rooms here display works by
Botticelli, Titian, Rembrandt, the Impression-
ists and Scotland’s finest pre-
twentieth-century artists.
P.106  ALONG PRINCES STREET

Dean Gallery
Taking up two whole storeys, Paolozzi’s
massive Vulcan is the highlight of this
superb collection of modern art.
P.130  ALONG THE WATER OF
LEITH

 Dundas Street galleries

An inspiring series of private and com-
mercial galleries, many specializing in local
contemporary artists.
P.113  THE NEW TOWN

National Museum of
Scotland
This imaginatively designed modern build-
ing holds Scotland’s premier collection of
historic artefacts.
P.93  SOUTH OF THE ROYAL MILE

Contents Ideas
28
 Arthur’s Seat
Sports and activities Edinburgh’s
contribution to the The open green spaces of Holyrood Park
offer walkers an inviting taste of the rugged
history of sport Scottish Highlands.
is unexpectedly P.88  HOLYROOD AND ARTHUR’S
SEAT
significant: the
rules of golf were
drawn up in Leith,
while the world’s
first ever rugby
international was
played on a local
cricket ground.
Today, rugby
internationals
at Murrayfield
are colourful,
passionate events;
if participation is more
your thing, head for the  Loony Dook
The traditional South Queensferry way to
world’s largest indoor
welcome the New Year is a swim in the Firth
climbing arena, or take to of Forth. It’s not compulsory, but it is cold.
Edinburgh’s many green P.152  SOUTH QUEENSFERRY
AND THE FORTH BRIDGES
spaces, which are perfect
for jogging, cycling,
walking or even flying a
kite.

Contents Ideas
 29

Ratho Adventure Centre

Some of the world’s finest indoor climbing
facilities can be found at this remarkable
new complex.
P.143  NORTH AND WEST
EDINBURGH

 Rugby
Played in front of noisy crowds of 65,000,
Scotland’s home international fixtures are
usually stirring encounters.
P.141  NORTH AND WEST
EDINBURGH

Golf
Edinburgh has numerous excellent courses,
including a number of public and short-hole
courses.
P.182  ESSENTIALS

Contents Ideas
30
Traditional pubs It’s often said that
if the weather in
Scotland was any
better, the pubs
wouldn’t be so
good. Edinburgh
has more than its
fair share of classic
venues, from low-
beamed rooms
tucked into Old
Town basements to
splendid Victorian
bars graced
with ornate cornicing
and magnificent tiled
Bow Bar
An unaffected champion of Edinburgh’s old-
walls. And it’s not just style bars, with a lip-smacking range of real
whisky that flows freely ales and single malt whiskies.
P.101  SOUTH OF THE ROYAL MILE
– Edinburgh also has a
long tradition as a centre
of beer-brewing.

Café Royal Circle Bar

A magnificent listed interior featuring
mahogany carvings and hand-painted tiles,
as well as good food and beer on tap.
P.109  ALONG PRINCES STREET

Contents Ideas
 31
 Cumberland Bar
A discerning choice for a beer and good
conversation in the New Town
P.118  THE NEW TOWN

The Shore
This wood- and mirror-lined haunt abuts the
water in Leith’s old harbour.
P.138  LEITH

 Sheep Heid Inn

The highlight of the urban village of Dud-
dingston is this local pub and its old-fash-
ioned skittle alley.
P.89  HOLYROOD AND ARTHUR’S
SEAT

Jolly Judge
A tiny pub tucked away in a hidden court-
yard just off the oldest part of Royal Mile.
P.81  THE ROYAL MILE

Contents Ideas
32
 Hopetoun House
Classical Edinburgh Planned and
built in the Scotland’s grandest stately home is a mag-
nificent tribute to the Neoclassical vision of
eighteenth century, the Adam family of architects.
Edinburgh’s P.153  SOUTH QUEENSFERRY
AND THE FORTH BRIDGES
elegant New
Town offered a
unique opportunity
for Classically-
influenced
architects of the
time to bring
grandeur and
magnificence to
the cityscape.
Edinburgh was
soon dubbed the
“Athens of the  Calton Hill
The strange collection of nineteenth-century
North”, and construction buildings and memorials here include the
of a mock-Parthenon on unfinished National Monument.
P.119  CALTON HILL AND
Calton Hill began; this BROUGHTON
half-completed monument
may still be known as
“Edinburgh’s Disgrace”,
but the Classical legacy
elsewhere in the city is
quite the opposite.

Contents Ideas
 33
 Georgian House
A National Trust for Scotland property
furnished to show off the grandeur of early
nineteenth century living.
P.113  THE NEW TOWN

St Bernard’s Well
This elegant Doric rotunda adds an Arcadian
aspect to the Water of Leith.
P.126  ALONG THE WATER OF
LEITH

 New Town
One of Europe’s finest residential quarters,
with rows and terraces of dignified Georgian
architecture.
P.110  THE NEW TOWN

National Gallery of
Scotland
One of two Grecian temples built right in the
heart of the capital to house Scotland’s col-
lection of art treasures.
P.106  ALONG PRINCES STREET

Contents Ideas
34
Restaurants and cafés Edinburgh’s
restaurant scene
offers an alluring
combination
of culinary flair,
dramatic design
and sumptuous
preparation. The
local seafood,
beef and venison
is among the best
available, and has
been imaginatively
utilized by chefs

David Bann’s
to create a unique One of Edinburgh’s hippest places to eat,
style of modern with a varied and interesting meat-free
menu.
Scottish cuisine. P.79  THE ROYAL MILE
Hand-in-hand with
this new confidence
has come a café culture
worthy of any vibrant
European capital – you may
not always be able to drink
it al fresco, but a frothy
cappuccino in a classy café
isn’t hard to find.

Fishers
One of Leith’s best-renowned seafood
bistros, offering appealing, daily changing
menus based around fresh Scottish fish.
P.137  LEITH

Contents Ideas
 35
 The Tower
With its memorable setting high up in the
National Museum of Scotland, this is one
of Edinburgh’s most impressive upmarket
restaurants.
P.100  SOUTH OF THE ROYAL MILE

Fruitmarket Gallery Café

The Fruitmarket gallery’s excellent café is a
great spot for a coffee or light lunch right in
the city centre.
P.108  ALONG PRINCES STREET

 The Grain Store

An understated interior and an impressive
Scottish menu make this a great place for a
casual but sophisticated meal.
P.99  SOUTH OF THE ROYAL MILE

Glass & Thompson

A classy sandwich or fresh pastry here is an
essential part of any New Town exploration.
P.116  THE NEW TOWN

Contents Ideas
36
 Vaults tour
Secret Edinburgh Edinburgh is so
full of important Take a tour of the town below the ground
to discover the city’s catacombs, vaults and
buildings and grand subterranean passageways.
architecture that P.69  THE ROYAL MILE

in the procession
from one to the
other it’s easy
to overlook the
city’s less obvious
draws. Yet there
are many hidden
corners – not just
in the Old Town,
where there seem
to be secrets down
every close and even
under the ground, but
also out from the centre,
where ancient villages hold
onto their identity despite
having been subsumed
into the capital.

Contents Ideas
 37
 Dunbar’s Close Garden
Tucked down a Royal Mile close, this tiny
formal garden is an inspiring and tranquil
retreat from the bustling city centre.
P.76  THE ROYAL MILE

Dean Village
This charming, secluded little community of
converted mill buildings is one of the land-
marks on the Water of Leith Walkway.
P.128  ALONG THE WATER OF
LEITH
 Mary King’s Close
Edinburgh’s “lost city” is a remarkably well
preserved series of Old Town houses and
closes in the basement of the City Cham-
bers.
P.74  THE ROYAL MILE

The Witchery by The Castle

The gothic-themed Secret Garden room here
was decorated by white witches, and top
chefs work their magic in the kitchen.
P.80  THE ROYAL MILE

Contents Ideas
38
Gourmet Edinburgh Edinburgh has a
long history when
it comes to a taste
for the good things
in life. The revered
Valvona & Crolla
deli opened here in
1934, while whisky
merchants such as
William Cadenhead
have been
around since the
nineteenth century.
Both remain
star attractions
of the city’s
impressive range
of gourmet experiences,
specialist food shops and
delicatessens, which also
includes a regular farmers’
market, showcasing
produce from in and
around the city.

Valvona & Crolla

Possibly the finest Italian deli in Britain, this
is a truly inspiring emporium of the finest
fresh foods, fine wines and epicurean treats.
P.124  CALTON HILL AND
BROUGHTON

Contents Ideas
 39
 Oysters
Fresh from the west coast of Scotland, local
oysters are a staple of Edinburgh’s seafood
bistros and restaurants.
P.109  ALONG PRINCES STREET

Farmers’ market
Top-quality meat, fish, cheese, bread and
vegetables sold in the shadow of the castle.
P.97  SOUTH OF THE ROYAL MILE

 Cadenhead’s
This small, unassuming shop sells a bewil-
dering range of whiskies, including many
rare and specially bottled distillations.
P.77  THE ROYAL MILE

Iain Mellis Cheesemonger

With three shops piled high with rounds of
delicious British and continental cheeses, Mr
Mellis is well worth sniffing out.
P.97  SOUTH OF THE ROYAL MILE

Contents Ideas
40
 The Dome
Clubs and style bars Edinburgh’s
vibrant nightlife This stunning cocktail bar and restaurant in
a converted bank is a sophisticated spot for
scene covers all a drink or meal.
the genres, from P.118  THE NEW TOWN

dub to disco and

chillout to comedy,
but the most
memorable aspect
of a night out here
is the range and
variety of venues.
The “style bars”
try to outdo their
competitors with
up-to-the-minute
design, while
 Honeycomb
The Old Town’s catacombs provide a unique
others make the venue for some of the city’s top DJs.
most of ornate former P.173  ESSENTIALS

banks and offices, and

clubs occupy ever more
unusual locations, with
nights staged in old
churches, smart Georgian
mansions and even the
Royal Mile’s vaults.

Contents Ideas
 41
 Human Be-In
Hip hangout for students and Southsiders,
with foreign lagers, classic contemporary
decor and an enlightened food menu.
P.150  SOUTH EDINBURGH

Fishtank
A great little New Town bar for those into
mellow grooves and goldfish.
P.118  THE NEW TOWN

 Opal Lounge
The flashiest place to be seen (if not heard)
on Edinburgh’s glitz strip, George Street.
P.118  THE NEW TOWN

Stand Comedy Club

Edinburgh’s top venue for stand-up keeps
the giggles going seven days a week, twelve
months a year.
P.175  ESSENTIALS

Contents Ideas
42
Gay Edinburgh For all Edinburgh’s
reputation as
a dour, stern,
Calvinist city, the
gay quarter here
is well-established
in bohemian
Broughton on the
edge of the New
Town. In addition
to a number of gay
cafés, bars and
nightclubs, most of
them straight-friendly and
a familiar part of the social
circuit, there are stylish
gay-run guesthouses and
colourful annual events
celebrating the gay
community in Scotland.

Pride Scotia festival

Annual parade and celebration held on alter-
nate years in Edinburgh and Glasgow.
P.180  ESSENTIALS

Contents Ideas
 43
 Ardmor House
This gay-owned guesthouse ranks among
the most contemporary and stylish small
places to stay in Edinburgh.
P.165  ACCOMMODATION

CC Blooms
Edinburgh’s sole uniquely gay nightclub is
always loud, lively and popular.
P.174  ESSENTIALS

 Blue Moon Café

The city’s longest-established and best-
known gay café, right in the heart of things
off Broughton Street.
P.124  CALTON HILL AND
BROUGHTON

Planet Out
One of the main meeting points of Edin-
burgh’s gay scene, this drinking spot rocks
as a busy pre-club bar.
P.125  CALTON HILL AND
BROUGHTON

Contents Ideas
44
 Plaisir du Chocolat
Indulgent Edinburgh If you’re after a
treat during your This chocolatier and refined Parisian-style
café is worth visiting for its range of exqui-
visit to Edinburgh, site hot chocolate drinks alone.
you’ll find an P.78  THE ROYAL MILE

increasing number
of places which
open the door to
a bit of lavishness.
Indulge in a cup of
the world’s best hot
chocolate or dine
from the kitchen
of a Michelin-
starred chef; float
away from your
troubles at a top-
ranked spa; or
take advantage of one of
Edinburgh’s luxury places
to stay, which include a
romantic castle and an
OTT Gothic apartment in
the heart of the Old Town.

Contents Ideas
 45
 Witchery apartments
These unique themed rooms are a riot
of indulgent baroque decor and escapist
pampering.
P.161  ACCOMMODATION

Restaurant Martin Wishart

Intricate French culinary techniques brought
to bear on top-notch Scottish produce.
 Dalhousie Castle
A 700-year old castle on the outskirts of
P.137  LEITH
Edinburgh, beautifully converted into a luxu-
rious country house hotel and spa.
P.167  ACCOMMODATION

One Spa, Sheraton Grand

This superb ultra-modern hotel spa includes
a range of revitalizing treatments, including
a hydropool on the roof.
P.164  ACCOMMODATION

Contents Ideas
46
Festivals and events Edinburgh likes
to dub itself the
“Festival City”, but
that doesn’t just
apply to August
– at almost any
time of year you’ll
find colourful
events and
celebrations which
take in subjects
as diverse as the
locally brewed
ales and hairy
highland cattle.
Some of these
events link back
to pagan ritual and are
still celebrated with gusto
– none more so than at
the massive city-centre
street party which marks
Hogmanay, as New Year’s
Eve is known to Scots.

Hogmanay
Edinburgh’s massive New Year’s Eve street
party involves live bands, dancing, fireworks
and 100,000 people singing Auld Lang Syne.
P.181  ESSENTIALS

Contents Ideas
 47
 Capital Christmas
Edinburgh’s winter festival sees an outdoor
skating rink installed in Princes Street
Gardens.
P.181  ESSENTIALS

Beltane Fire Festival

Ancient Celtic celebrations marking the
arrival of spring are re-created in a colourful
night-time pageant on Calton Hill.
P.180  ESSENTIALS

 Caledonian Beer Festival

The city’s traditionally brewed beers line up
alongside the best of Britain’s real ales in
this annual two-day celebration.
P.180  ESSENTIALS

Royal Highland Show

Scotland’s premier agricultural show is a
big deal for farmers and townies alike – and
well worth getting dressed up for.
P.180  ESSENTIALS

Contents Ideas
48
 Calton Hill
Green places Edinburgh’s
civic parks and This distinctive landmark combines tall
trees, grassy banks and wild gorse bushes
protected green as well as some off-beat architecture.
spaces are unique P.119  CALTON HILL AND
BROUGHTON
and incredibly
varied. Central
Edinburgh boasts
rows of blossom-
heavy trees and
a beautifully
manicured garden
reclaimed from a
stagnant loch, and there’s
also a lush 800-foot high
peak within a mile of the
centre, once part of the
 Royal Botanic Garden
king’s hunting ground. These seventy beautifully tended acres are
perfect for lazy strolls.
And if you feel like getting
P.126  ALONG THE WATER OF
active, there are plenty of LEITH
open spaces geared up
for cycling, football or just
sitting around.

Contents Ideas
Other documents randomly have
different content
The Project Gutenberg eBook of Our Square
and the People in It
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States
and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the
United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where
you are located before using this eBook.

Title: Our Square and the People in It

Author: Samuel Hopkins Adams

Illustrator: J. Scott Williams

Release date: December 1, 2013 [eBook #44328]

Most recently updated: October 23, 2024

Language: English

Credits: Produced by David Widger

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR SQUARE

AND THE PEOPLE IN IT ***
OUR SQUARE AND THE
PEOPLE IN IT
By Samuel Hopkins Adams

Illustrated by Scott Williams

Boston and New York Houghton Mifflin Company

1917
 W
ALLED in by slums stands Our Square, a
valiant green space, far on the flank of the
Great City. Ours is an inglorious little world
Sociologists have-not yet remarked and
classified us. The Washington Square romancers who
bold sentimental revel at the foot of Fifth Avenue reck
nothing of their sister park, many blocks to the east.
But we are patient of our obscurity. Close-knit, keeping
our own counsel, jealous of our own concerns, and not
without our own pride of place, we live our quiet lives,
a community sufficient unto itself. So far as may be for
mortals under the sway of death and love and fate, we
maintain ourselves with little change amid the
kaleidoscopic shiftings of the surrounding metropolis.
Few come into Our Square except of necessity. Few go
out but under the same stem impulsion. Some of us
are held by tradition, some by poverty, some by
affection, and some through loyalty to what once was
and is no more. Here we live, and here hope to die,
“the kind hearts, the true hearts that loved the place
of old.” And of all, there is no truer heart or kinder
than that of the gentle, shrewd, and neighborly old
dominie through whose lips I tell these tales, the real
historian of the folk whom I, too, have known and
loved in Our Square.

CONTENTS
OUR SQUARE
I
 II
III
IV
THE CHAIR THAT WHISPERED
MACLACHAN OF OUR SQUARE
THE GREAT 'PEACEMAKER
ORPHEUS
A TALE OF WHITE MAGIC IN OUR SQUARE
THE MEANEST MAN IN OUR SQUARE
PAULA OF THE HOUSETOP
THE LITTLE RED 'DOCTOR OF OUR SQUARE

List of Illustrations
Whirled Her out of a Pit Of Darkness
Read from Left to Right
Her Hands Slipped to his Shoulder
What Do I Owe Ye But a Curse
We Have Successfully Terminated the Negotiation
I Puh-hut It in My Huh-huh-hair
 Jogging Appreciatively Along Behind Schutz's Mouse-hued
Mare
OUR SQUARE
 I

O
UR Square lies broad and green and busy, in the forgotten
depths of the great city. By day it is bright with the laughter
of children and shrill with the bickering of neighbors. By night
the voice of the spellbinder is strident on its corners, but
from the remoter benches float murmurs where the young couples
sit, and sighs where the old folk relax their weariness. New York
knows little of Our Square, submerged as we are in a circle of slums.
Yet for us, as for more Elysian fields, the crocus springs in the happy
grass, the flash and song of the birds stir our trees, and Romance
fans us with the wind of its imperishable wing.
The first robin was singing in our one lone lilac when the Bonnie
Lassie came out of the Somewhere Else into Our Square and
possessed herself of the ground floor of our smallest house, the
nestly little dwelling with the quaint old door and the broad, friendly
vestibule, next but one to the Greek church. Before she had been
there a month she had established eminent domain over all of us.
Even MacLachan, the dour tailor on the corner, used to burst into
song when she passed. It was he who dubbed her the Bonnie
Lassie, and as it was the first decent word he'd spoken of living
being within the memory of Our Square, the name stuck. Apart from
that, it was eminently appropriate. She was a small girl who might
have been perhaps twenty-three or twenty-four if she hadn't (more
probably) been twenty, and looked a good deal like a thoughtful
kitten when she wasn't twinkling at or with somebody. When she
twinkled—and she did it with eyes, voice, heart, and soul all at once
—the cart-peddlers stopped business to look and listen. You can't go
further than that, not in Our Square at least.
How long Cyrus the Gaunt had been there before she discovered
him is a matter of conjecture. He slipped in from the Outer Darkness
quite unobtrusively and sat about looking thoughtful and lonely. He
was exaggeratedly long and loose and mussed-up and melancholy-
looking, and first attracted local attention on a bench which several
other people wanted more than he did. So he got up and gave it to
them. Later, when the huskiest of them met him and explained, by
way of putting him in his proper place, what would have happened
to him if he hadn't been so obliging, Cyrus absent-mindedly said,
“Oh, yes,” threw the belligerent one into our fountain, held him
under water quite as long as was safe, dragged him out, hauled him
over to Schwartz's, and bought him a drink. Thereafter Cyrus was
still considered an outlander, but nobody actively objected to his
sitting around Our Square, looking as melancholy and queer as he
chose. Nobody, that is, until the Bonnie Lassie took him in hand.
Nothing could have been more correct than their first meeting,
sanctioned as it was by the majesty of the law. Terry the Cop, who
presides over the destinies of Our Square, led the Bonnie Lassie to
Cyrus's bench and said; “Miss, this is the young feller you asked me
about. Make you two acquainted.”
Thereupon the young man got up and said, “How-d'ye-do?”
wonderingly, and the young woman nodded and said, “How-d'ye-
do?” non-committally, and the young policeman strolled away,
serene in the consciousness of a social duty well performed.
The Bonnie Lassie regarded her new acquaintance with soft,
studious eyes. There was something discomfortingly dehumanizing
in that intent appraisal. He wriggled.
“Yes, I think you'll do,” she ruminated slowly.
“Thanks,” murmured Cyrus, wondering for what.
“Suppose we sit down and talk it over,” said she.
Studying her unobtrusively from his characteristically drooping
position, Cyrus wondered what this half-fairy, half-flower, with the
decisive manner of a mistress of destiny, was doing in so grubby an
environment.
On her part, she reflected that she had seldom encountered so
homely a face, and speculated as to whether that was its sole claim
to interest. Then he lifted his head; his eyes met hers, and she
modified her estimate, substituting for “homely,” first “queer,” then
“quaint,” and finally “unusual.” Also there was something
impersonally but hauntingly reminiscent about him; something
baffling and disconcerting, too. The face wasn't right.
“Do you mind answering some questions?” she asked.
“Depends,” he replied guardedly. “Well, I'll try. Do you live here?”
“Just around the corner.”
“What do you do?”
“Nothing much.”
 “How long have you been doing it?”
“Too long.”
“Why don't you stop?”
For the second time Cyrus the Gaunt lifted his long, thin face and
looked her in the eye. “Beautiful Incognita,” he drawled with mild
impertinence, “did you write the Shorter Catechism or are you
merely plagiarizing?”
“Oh!” she said. Surprise and the slightest touch of dismay were in
the monosyllable. “I'm afraid I've made a mistake. I thought—the
policeman said you were a down-and-outer.”
“I'm the First Honorary Vice-President of the Life Branch of the
Organization.”
He slumped back into his former attitude. Again she studied him.
“No, I don't understand,” she said slowly.
But the dehumanizing tone had gone from the soft voice. Cyrus
began to rescue his personality from her impersonal ignoring of it.
He also felt suddenly a livelier interest in life. Then, unexpectedly,
she turned his flank.
“You lurk and stare at my house in the dark,” she accused.
“Which house?” he asked, startled.
“You know quite well. You shouldn't stare at strange houses. It
embarrasses them.”
“Is that the miniature mansion with the little bronzes of dancing
street-children in the windows?”
She nodded.
“Why shouldn't I stare? There's a secret in that house!”
“A secret? What secret?”
“The secret of happiness. Those dancing kiddies have got it. I
want it. I want to know what makes'em so happy.”
“I do,” said the girl promptly.
“Yes. I shouldn't be surprised,” he assented, lifting his head to
contemplate her with his direct and grave regard. “Do you live there
with them?”
“They're mine. I model them. I'm a sculptor.”
“Good Lord! You! But you're a very good one, aren't you?—if you
did those.”
“I've been a very bad one. Now I'm trying to be a very good one.”
A gleam of comprehension lit his eye. “Oh, then it's as a subject
that you thought I'd do. You wanted to sculp me.”
“Yes, I do. For my collection. You see, I've adopted this Square.”
“And now you're sculping it. I see.” He raised himself to peer
across at the windows where the blithe figures danced, tiny mænads
of the gutter, Bacchæ of the asphalt. “But I don't see why on earth
you want me. Do you think you could make me happy?”
“I shouldn't try.”
“Hopeless job, you think? As a sculptor you ought to be a better
judge of character. You ought to pierce through the externals and
perceive with your artistic eye that beneath this austere mask I'm as
merry a little cricket as ever had his chirp smothered by the slings
and arrows of outrageous Fortune.”
It was then that she twinkled at him, and the twinkle grew into a
laugh, such golden laughter as brightened life to the limits of its
farthest echo. Cyrus had the feeling that the gray April sky had
momentarily opened up and sent down a sun-ray to illumine the
proceedings.
“How wonderfully you mix them!” she cried. “Shall I sculp you in
cap and bells?”
“Why should I let you sculp meat all?” She stopped laughing
abruptly and looked up at him with wondering eyes and parted lips,
drooping just the tiniest bit at the corners. “Everybody does,” she
said.
At once he understood why everybody did that or anything else
she wished. “All right,” he yielded. “What am I to sit for?”
“Fifty cents an hour.”
 Then the Bonnie Lassie got her second surprise from him. His face
changed abruptly. An almost animal eagerness shone in his eyes.
“Fif-fif-fif—” he began, then recovered himself. “Pardon my
performing like a deranged steam-whistle, but do I understand that
you offer to pay me for sitting about doing nothing while you work?
Did all those cheerful dancers in the window collect pay at that
rate?”
“Some of them did. Others are my friends.”
“Ah, you draw social distinctions, I perceive.”
“I think we needn't fence,” said the girl spiritedly. “When I came to
you I thought you were of Our Square. If you will tell me just what
variety of masquerader you are, we shall get on faster.”
“Do you think I don't belong quite as much to Our Square as you
do?”
“Oh, I! This is my workshop. This is my life. But you—I should
have suspected you from the first word you spoke. What are you?
Don't tell me that you are here Settlementing or Sociologizing or
Improving the Condition of Somebody Else! Because I really do need
your face,” she concluded with convincing earnestness. “It's yours at
fifty cents an hour.”
“And you're not an Improver?”
“Absolutely not. Do I look as if I'd improved myself?”
“You wouldn't do at all for my present purpose, improved,” she
observed. “Please don't forget that. When can you come to me?”
“Any time.”
“Haven't you anything else to do?”
“Nothing but look out for odd jobs. That's why I'm so grateful for
regular employment.”
“But this isn't regular employment.” His face fell. “It's most
irregular, and there's very little of it.”
“Oh, well, it's fifty cents an hour. And that's more than I've ever
earned in my life, Miss Sculptor.”
“I am Miss Willard.”.
 “Then, Miss Willard, you're employing Cyrus Murphy. Do you think
I'll sculp up like a Murphy?”
“I don't think you'll sculp up like a Murphy at all, and I've too
many friends who are Murphys to believe that you are one. In fact, I
could do you much better if I knew what you are.”
“That's quite simple. I'm a suicide. I walked right spang over the
edge of life and disappeared. Splash! Bubble-bubble! There goes
nothing. The only difference between me and a real suicide is that I
have to eat. At times it's difficult.”
“Haven't you any trade? Can't you do anything?” With a sweep of
her little hand she indicated the bustling activities with which the
outer streets whirred. “Isn't there any place for you in all this?”
He contemplated the world's work as exemplified around Our
Square. His gaze came to rest upon a steam-roller, ponderously
clanking over a railed-off portion of the street. “I suppose I could
run that.”
“Could you? That's a man's job at least. Have you ever run one?”
“No, but I know I could. Any kind of machinery just eats out of my
hand.”
“Well, that's something. It's better than being a model. Be at my
house tomorrow at nine please.”
For an hour thereafter Cyrus the Gaunt sat on the bench musing
upon a small, flower-like, almost absurdly efficient young person
who had contracted, as he viewed it, to inject light and color into life
at fifty cents an hour, and who had plainly intimated that, in her
view, he was not a man. It was that precise opinion expressed by
another and a very unlike person which was responsible for his being
where he was. At that time it had made him furious. Now it made
him thoughtful.
Presently he went through his pockets, reckoned his assets, rose
up from the bench, and made a trip to MacLachan's “Home of
Fashion,” where he left his clothes to be pressed overnight. In the
morning he reappeared again, shaved to the closest limit of human
endurance, and thus addressed the Scot:—
 “Have you got my clothes pressed?”
“Aye,” said the tailor.
“Well, unpress 'em again.”
“Eh?” said the tailor.
“Unpress'em. Sit on'em. Roll'em on the floor. Muss'em up. Put all
the wrinkles back, just as they were.”
“Mon, ye shud leave the whiskey be,” advised the tailor.
Thereupon Cyrus caught up his neatly creased suit and proceeded
to play football with it, after which he put it on and viewed himself
with satisfaction.
“And I almost forgot that she wouldn't have any use for me,
improved,” he muttered as he wended his way to the little, old
friendly house. “Lord, I might have lost my job!”
Any expectation of social diversion at fifty cents an hour which
Cyrus the Gaunt may have cherished was promptly quashed on his
arrival. It was a very businesslike little sculptor who took him in
hand.
“Sit here, please—the right knee farther forward—let the chin drop
a little—” and all that sort of thing.
He might not even watch the soft, strong little hands as they
patted and kneaded, nor the vivid face as plastic as the material
from which the hands worked their wonders, for when he attempted
it:—
“I don't wish you to look at me. I wish you to look at nothing, as
you do when you sit on the bench. Make your eyes tired again.”
The difficulty was that his eyes, tired so long with that weariness
which lies at the very roots of being, didn't feel tired at all in the
little studio. For one thing, there was an absurd, fluffed-up whirlwind
of a kitten who performed miracles of obstacle-racing all over the
place. Then, in the most unexpected crannies and corners lurked
tiny bronzes, instinct with life: a wistful dog submitting an injured
paw to a boy hardly as large as himself; “Androcles” this one was
labeled. Then there was “Mystery,” a young, ill-clad girl, looking
down at a dead butterfly; “Remnants,” a withered and bent old
woman, staggering under her load of builders' refuse; “The Knight,”
a small boy astride across the body of his drunken father,
brandishing a cudgel against a circle of unseen tormentors; and
many others, all vivid with that feeling for the human struggle which
alone can make metal live.
“Recess!” cried the worker presently. “You're doing quite well!”
Thus encouraged, Cyrus ventured a question:—
“Where are the dancers?”
“They're all in the window.”
“But this in here is quite as big work, isn't it? Why isn't some of it
on display?”
“It's for outsiders. It isn't for my people.” She put a world of
protectiveness in the two final words.
“I can't see why not.”
“Because the people of Our Square don't need to be told of the
tragedy of life. Joy and play and laughter is what they need. So I
give it to them.”
A light came into his tired, old-young eyes. “Do you know, I begin
to think you're a very wonderful person.”
“Time to work again,” said she. Whereby, being an understanding
young man, he perceived that there would be no safe divergence
from the strict relations of employer and employed, for the present
at least. Half a dozen times he sat for her, sometimes collecting a
dollar, sometimes only fifty cents, the money being invariably
handed over with a demure and determined air of business
procedure, and duly entered in a tiny book, which was a never-
failing source of suppressed amusement to him. Then one day the
basis abruptly changed, for a reason he did not learn about until
long after.
It had to do with a process which I must regretfully term
eavesdropping, on the part of the little sculptor. The subjects were
two-on-a-bench, in Our Square. One was Cyrus the Gaunt; the other
an inconsiderable and hopeless lounger, grim and wan.
Silver passed between them, and something else, less tangible,
something which lighted a sudden flame of hope in the hopeless
face.
“A real job?” the lurking sculptor overheard him say, hoarsely.
Cyrus nodded. “Nine o'clock to-morrow morning, here,” said he.
Slipping quietly away, the girl almost ran into the grim and wan
lounger, no longer so grim and several degrees less wan, as he
rounded the opposite curve of the circle and passed out on the
street in front of her. The next instant Cyrus shot by her at a long-
legged gallop and caught the man by the shoulder.
“Here! Wait! Not nine o'clock,” he cried breathlessly. “I forgot. I've
got an engagement, a—very important business engagement.”
The other's jaw dropped. “What the—” he began, when there
appeared before them both a trim and twinkling vision of femininity.
“I'm glad I saw you,” said the vision to Cyrus, “because I shan't
want you until ten-thirty to-morrow.” Then she passed on, so deep in
thought that she hardly responded to the greetings which accosted
her on all sides. “I don't understand it at all” she murmured.
Promptly upon the morrow's hour Cyrus appeared at the studio,
rumpled and mussed as usual. “How do you do?” the artist greeted
him. “Before we go to work I want you to meet Fluff.”
Cyrus glanced at the kitten, who was chasing a phantom mouse
up the swaying curtain. “I already know Fluff,” said he.
“Oh, no, you don't,” she corrected gently. “That is, Fluff doesn't
know you. She doesn't know that you are alive. Fluff is a person of
fine distinctions. Come here, Mischief.” The kitten gave over the
chase, after one last lightning swipe, and trotted across the room.
“Fluff,” said her mistress, “this is our friend, Cyrus.” The kitten purred
and nosed Cyrus's foot.
“Thank you,” said the young man gratefully. “I also am not wholly
insensible to fine distinctions. Fluff, do you know how those ancient
barbarian parties looked and acted when they were called 'friend of
the state of Rome'? Well, regard me.”
His employer twinkled at him with her eyes. “I've sold you,” she
remarked.
“At a good price?”
“Yes. You were really very good.”
“It would have been kind to let me see myself before you bartered
me away into eternal captivity.”
“Kinder not.”
“You mean I shouldn't have liked your idea of me?”
“Didn't I say that it was good?” she returned with composed pride.
“My idea of you wouldn't be good, as modeling. This is the real you,
the man underneath.”
“That's worse. You think I oughtn't to like myself as I am.”
She looked up at him with intimate and sympathetic friendliness.
“Well, do you?” was all she said.
“Whether I do or not, it's pretty evident what you think of me.”
“It ought to be. I've introduced you to Fluff. One can't be too
careful as to whom one introduces to one's young and guileless
daughter.”
“Thank you.” For the first time in their acquaintance he smiled.
The smile changed his face luminously.
She tossed the tiny iron with which she was working into the far
corner of the studio. “That settles it,” she said. “I'm through.”
“For the day?”
“Wrong! All wrong!” she cried vehemently, disregarding his
question. “Why did you have to go and smile that way? I haven't
done you at all. Do you know what I've been sculping you as?”
“You wouldn't tell me, you know. Nothing very flattering, I
judged.”
“As a disenchanted and uncontrolled drifter.”
“And now you think perhaps I'm not?”
 “I don't know what you are, but I think I might as well be clicking
the shutter of a camera, for all I've done with you. The point is, that
I've come to the end of you for the present.”
“You don't want me any more?” he cried, aghast.
“If I did, you wouldn't have time. I've got you a real man's job.”
“What kind of slavery have you sold me into this time?”
“The steam-roller. I've used my influence—you don't know what a
pull I've got around here—and I can name my man for the late
night-shift. Will you take it?” His face was elate. “Will I take it! Will a
duck eat pie?”
“I'm sure I don't know. Will it?”
“It will if it can't get anything else to eat. How long is this job
good for?”
“All summer and more. How long are you?”
“Till released.”
“You have made a promise. I'll enter it in my ledger.” Which she
did, writing it down in her absurd little booklet with a delicious
solemnity of importance.
“But can't I come and sit for you afternoons?” he pleaded.
“How many wages do you want to earn? No; not at present. But
Miss Fluff and I are at home to honest working friends on Friday
evenings. Come here, Miss Fluff, and tell the new engineer that we'll
be glad to have him come and tell us about the job when he's
learned it.” But the kitten paid no heed, being at that moment
engaged in treacherously and scientifically stalking an imaginary
butterfly along the window-sill.
“Before I'm banished,” said Cyrus, “may I ask a question?”
“You might try it.”
“Do you mind telling me your given name? Not for use,” he added,
as she looked up at him with her grave, speculative gaze, “but just
as a guaranty of good faith. I set great store by other people's
names, having been cursed since birth with my own Persian
abomination.”
 “I don't think Cyrus is bad at all,” she said. “Mine is Carol.”
“Oh,” said he blankly.
“Don't you like it?”
“It's a very nice name, for some people,” he said guardedly.
“You don't like it. Why?”
There was no evading the directness of that demand. “I never
knew but one girl named Carol,” he said. “She squinted.”
“What of it? I don't squint. Do I? Do I? DO I?”
With each repetition of her defiance she took one step nearer him,
until at the last she was fairly standing on tiptoe under his nose.
Cyrus the Gaunt looked down into those radiant eyes that grew
wider and deeper and deeper and wider, until his heart, which had
been slipping perilously of late, fell into them and was hopelessly
lost. “Do I?” she demanded once more.
Cyrus responded with a loud yell. Inappropriate as the outcry was,
it saved a situation becoming potentially dangerous, for not far
below those luminous eyes was a dimple that flickered at the corner
of a challenging mouth; unconsciously challenging, doubtless, yet—
And then Fluff, opportunely descrying her imaginary butterfly on the
side of Cyrus's trouser-leg, made a flying leap and drove ten keen
claws through the fabric into the skin beneath. Her mistress
dislodged the too ardent entomologist, and apologized demurely.
“You see,” said she, “you've become an intimate of the household.
When you're too busy to come and see us, Fluff and I will peek out
and admire you as you go plunging past on your irresistible course.”
“It's going to be a lonely job,” said Cyrus the Gaunt wistfully,
“compared to this one.”
“Nonsense!” she retorted briskly as she handed him a dollar bill.
“Here's your pay. You'll be too busy to be lonely. Good luck, Mr.
Engineer.”
 II

T
hus Cyrus the Gaunt became a toiler in, and by slow degrees a
citizen of, Our Square. We are a doubtful people where
strangers are concerned. The ritual of initiation for Cyrus was,
at first, chance words and offhand nods, then an occasional
bidding to sit in at Schwartz's, and finally consultations and
confidences on matters of import, political, social, or private. Thus
was Cyrus the Gaunt adopted as one of us. Quite from the outset of
his job he became a notable pictorial asset of the place, standing
out, lank and black, in the intermittent gleam of his own engine, as
he rolled on his appointed course amidst firmamental thunderings.
Acting as chauffeur to ten tons of ill-balanced metal, he promptly
discovered, is an occupation to which the tyro must pay explicit heed
if he would keep within the bounds of his precinct. About the time
when he was beginning to feel at ease with his charger, he came to
a stop, one misty night, directly opposite the window of a taxicab,
and met a pair of eyes which straightway became fixed in a paralysis
of amazed doubt.
“No; it isn't. It can't be,” said the owner of the eyes presently.
“Yes, it is,” contradicted Cyrus.
“Well, I'm jiggered!”
“That's all that the pious young Presbyterian boss of a fashionable
church has a right to be.”
“What are you doing up there?”
“Piloting a submarine under Governor's Island.”
“So I see.” The taxi-door opened, and some six feet of well-
tailored manhood mounted nimbly to Cyrus's side. “What's the fare?
And why? Is it a bet?”
 Cyrus the Gaunt grinned amiably in the face of the Reverend
Morris Cartwright, whose appearance in that quarter did not greatly
surprise him. “How did you know? It's leaked out at the club, has
it?”
“Not that I know of. I guessed it.”
“Thought nothing short of a bet would account for such a reversal
of form, eh? Keep it to yourself, and I'll tell you the rest.”
“You've hired an ear,” observed the young cleric.
“Maybe you heard that I had a nervous breakdown last spring.
Kind of a mixture of things.”
“Yes; I know the mixture. Three of gin to one of Italian.”
“You know too much for a minister,” growled the other. “Besides, it
was only part that. I just sort of got sick of doing nothing and being
nothing, and the sickness struck in, I expect. Well, one morning,
after a night of bridge, I came out into the breakfast-room nine
hundred plus to the good, and about ready to invest the whole in
any kind of painless dope that would save me from being bored with
this life any more. There sat Doc Gerritt, pink and smooth like a
cherry-stone clam. I stuck out my hand, and it was shaking. I dare
say my voice was shaking, too, for Gerry looked up pretty sharp,
when I said, 'Doc, can you do anything for me?' 'No,' says he. 'Is it
as bad as that?' I asked. 'It's worse,' says he. 'I'm a busy man with
no time to waste on sure losses. Flat down, Cyrus, you aren't worth
it.' 'This is all I've got of me,' I said. 'I'm worth it to myself.' 'Then do
it for yourself,' he snapped. 'You're the only one that can.' 'Will you
tell me how?' 'I will,' says he. 'But you won't do it. You aren't man
enough.' 'Gerry,' I said, 'you may be a good doctor, but you're a
damn liar.' 'Am I?' says he. 'Prove it. Cut the booze and go to work.'
'Work won't do me any good,' I said. 'I've tried it, and it bored me
worse than the other thing. When I'm bored, I naturally reach for a
drink.' (There's a great truth in that, you know, Carty, if the
temperance people would only grab it: boredom and booze —cause
and effect.) 'That's a hot line of advice, Doc,' I said. 'Maybe you'll
think better of it when you get my bill for fifty,' says he. (I got it,
too. I've still got it.) 'I don't mean Wall Street, Cyrus,' says he. 'I
mean work. You've never tried work. You've just played at it. I'll bet
you a thousand,' he went on (he was playing me up to this all the
time, Carty), 'that you'd starve in six months if you tried to make
your living where nobody knows you.' Well, Carty, you know how I
am with a bet. It comes just as natural to me to say 'You're on,' as
'Here's how,' or 'Have another.' I said it, and here I am. I'll bet Doc
Gerritt's laughing yet,” he concluded with a wry face.
“They say he's the best diagnostician going, in his own line.” The
young clergyman studied Cyrus out of the corner of his eye. “I
wouldn't wonder if it were true. How do you like the prescription so
far?”
“Interesting,” said Cyrus the Gaunt. “I've been hungry, and I've
been lonely, and I've been scared, and I've even been near-yellow,
but I haven't been bored for a minute. You never get bored, Carty,
when you have the probabilities of your next meal to speculate on,
pro and con. Odd jobs have been my stay mostly, before I landed
this. And when there wasn't anything in my own line, I kept up my
nerve by catching 'em on the way down and shoving 'em into jobs
on Jink Hereford's Canadian preserve.”
“Good man!” approved the Reverend Morris Cartwright. “What'll
you have?” he added.
“Frankfurters and a glass of milk, if it's an open order. But you'll
have to fetch it to me from Schwartz's. I can't leave this here skittish
little pet of mine.”
Then and there some Sunday supplement missed a “throbbing
human-interest story” in that no reporter was present to witness one
of New York's fashionable young pastors emerging from an obscure
saloon bearing food and drink to the grimy driver of an all-night
thunder-wagon.
“And now,” said Cyrus the Gaunt, handing down the empty glass,
“if it isn't one of your disgraceful secrets, what are you doing in this
galley? Heading off some poor unfortunate who wants to go to the
devil peacefully, in his own way?”
 “No, I leave that to the doctors,” retorted the other mildly.
“Quite so,” chuckled Cyrus. “Throw some water in my face and
drag me to my corner, will you?”
“This is an errand of diplomacy,” continued Cartwright. “I'm an
envoy. Do you happen to know which house—” His ranging vision fell
upon the row of figures joyously dancing in the window. “Never
mind,” he said, “I've found it.” He disappeared between the portals
of the old-fashioned, hospitable door.
Quite a considerable part of his week's wages would Cyrus the
Gaunt have forfeited to interpret the visitor's expression when he
came out, a long hour later. He looked at once harassed, regretful,
and yet triumphant, as one might look who had achieved the object
of a thankless errand.
The Bonnie Lassie came to the door with him and stood gazing
out across the flaring lights and quivering shadows of Our Square. It
seemed to Cyrus that the flower-face drooped a little.
And indeed the Bonnie Lassie was not feeling very happy. When
one's adopted world goes well, the claims that draw one back
become irksome ties. The messenger from the world which she had
temporarily foregone was far from welcome. But at least she had
claimed and won some months of respite and freedom for her work.
So engrossed did she become with that work that she saw little or
nothing of Cyrus the Gaunt until Chance brought them together in
the climatic fashion so dear to that Protean arbiter of destinies.
Returning one evening from a call upon a small invalid friend in a
tenement quite remote from Our Square, the Bonnie Lassie essayed
a cross-cut which skirted the mouth of a blind alley. From within
there sounded a woman's scream of pain and fear.
The Bonnie Lassie hesitated. It was a forbidding alley, and the
scream was not inspiriting. It was repeated. Not for nothing is one
undisputed empress of Our Square. The Bonnie Lassie had the
courage of one who rules. She swooped into that black byway like a
swallow entering a cave. Now the screams were muffled, with a
grisly, choked sound. They led her flying feet toward a narrow side
passage. But before she reached the turn, a towering bulk sped by
her, almost filling the thin slit between the walls.
When she came within view, the matter was apparently settled. A
swarthy, vividly clad woman cringed against one wall. Against the
other Cyrus had pinned a swarthier man. The man, helpless, seemed
to be wheedling and promising. With a final shake and a growl—the
girl likened it in her mind to that of a great, magnanimous dog—the
gaunt one released the Sicilian and stopped to pick up his hat, which
had fallen in the struggle. Then the girl's heart leaped and clogged
her throat with terror, for, as Cyrus turned, the pretense fell from the
face of his opponent and it changed to a mask of murder. His hand
darted to his breast and came forth clutching the thin, terrible,
homemade stiletto of the rag-picking tribe, a file ground to a
rounded needle-point. The girl strove to cry out. It seemed to her
only the whisper of a nightmare. But it was enough.
Cyrus spun around and leaped back. His arm went out stiff as a
bar. At the end of it was a formidable something which flashed with
an ugly glint of metal in the Sicilian's face. Whether or not she heard
a report, the terror-stricken onlooker could not have said. But the
would-be murderer screamed, tottered, withered. His weapon tinkled
upon the coping. Then an arm of inordinate size and strength
encircled the Bonnie Lassie, whirled her up out of a pit of blackness,
and supported her through a reeling world. At her ear a quietly
urgent voice kept insisting that she must walk—walk—walk, and not
let herself lapse. A shock jolted her brain. It was the smell of
ammonia. The darkness dissipated, became an almost intolerable
light, and she found herself seated opposite Cyrus the Gaunt at a
polished metal table in an ice cream parlor.
 “Don't let go of my hand,” she whispered faintly.
His big, reassuring clasp tightened. “We got away before the
crowd came,” he said. “You have wonderful nerve. I thought you
were gone.”
“Don't speak of it,” she shuddered. “I can't stand it.”
Not until, after a slow, silent walk, they were seated on a bench in
Our Square could she gather her resolution for the dreadful
question. “Did you kill him?”
“Good Lord, no!”
Whirled her up out of a pit of blackness, and supported her
through a reeling world.
“But—but—you shot him!”
“Yes, with this.” He thrust his hand in his pocket, and again, as
she closed her eyes against the sight, she caught faintly the pungent
stimulus that had revived her.
“What is it?”
“Ammonia-pop. Model of my own.” Her eyes flew open, the color
flooded into her cheeks, but receded again. “He might have killed
you!” she exclaimed. “I thought when you turned away and I saw
the dagger that— Oh, how could you take such a desperate
chance?”
“Just fool-in-the-head, I guess. I supposed he was through. Don't
know that breed, you see. But for you, he'd have got me.”
“But for you,” she retorted, “I don't know what might have
happened to me. How came you to be down in that slum?”
“Oh,” said he carelessly, “I prowl.”
“As far away as that?” She looked at him, sidelong.
“All around. I know that neighborhood like a book.”
“What's the name of that alley?”
“Alley? Er—what alley?”
“Mr. Cyrus Murphy, how long have you been following me about?”
He turned an unpicturesque, dull red. “Well, that's no place for a
girl alone,” he growled.
“You know, one evening I thought I saw you, down near Avenue
C, but I couldn't be sure. Was it?”
 “It might have been,” he grudged. “Avenue C is a public
thoroughfare.”
“And you've been guarding me,” she murmured.
Her eyes brooded on him, and the color was rising in her face to
match his. But, while Cyrus blushed like a brick, the Bonnie Lassie
blushed like the hue of flying clouds after sunset.
“Why don't you take a policeman?” he blurted out. “If anything
should happen to you—It isn't safe,” he concluded lamely.
“Not even when I'm chaperoned with an ammonia popgun?” she
smiled. “Why do you carry that?”
“For dogs. Dogs don't always like me. It's my clothes, I suppose.”
“Any dog who wouldn't like and trust you on sight,” she
pronounced with intense conviction, “is an imbecile.”
He smiled his acknowledgment. At that her face altered.
“There you go, smiling once more,” she said fretfully. “You do it
very seldom, but—”
“I'm always smiling, deep inside me, at you,” he said quietly.
“But when you smile outside, it makes you so different. And I find
I've done you all wrong.”
“Are you still sculping me?” he asked in surprise.
“I—I have been, but I stopped.” She paused, trying again to think
of him as merely a model, and found, to her discomfiture, that it
caused a queer, inexplicable little pang deep inside her heart.
Nevertheless, the artist rose overpoweringly within her at his next
question.
“Do you want me to sit for you again?”
“Oh, would you? Now?”
He glanced at the church clock. “I've forty-seven minutes,” he
said.
Much may be accomplished in forty-seven minutes. In the studio
she sprang to her work with a sort of contained fury. And as the
eager, intent eyes regarded him with an ever-increasing
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