Hello and welcome to Stories of Scotland, a podcast about Scottish histories and mysteries.

I'm a beloved and loyal terrier, Annie.

And I'm a dead old corpse, Jenny.

This week we are looking at a lovely, gorgeous wee tale about one very good boy.

Possibly, the best boy of them all, Greyfriars Bobby.

Once again, we're bringing you an episode that takes place in Greyfriars

Kirkyard. Although this week's story is not spooky at all, it's rather the slightly sad, but

overall adorable tale of a wee dog in Old Riki.

Ah, the big Old Riki.

Our wonderful capital city of Edinburgh, where we've just returned from a marvellous research trip.

For anyone unfamiliar with the phrase, Old Riqui, it means old smoky, and this harks back to

the days of thick air pollution and smog, which used to dance around Edinburgh, like a big cloud of chesty coughs and black bogies.

This story begins late one evening in the mid-1800s.

Jenny, we know what twilight looks like and feels like. But what do we actually know about

Edinburgh in the 1850s?

I know far more than you would anticipate about Edinburgh in the 1850s, Annie. The streets

are lit by gas lights, each one giving off a dim, flickering sphere of warm light.

They are gentle glowing orbs breaking up the darkness of the street.

Between them lie large, unlit patches.

And in these shadowy places, danger lurks.

There's always a threat of robbers prowling the city streets

and smugglers sneaking in the outskirts.

...