In our walks, Scott would frequently pause in conversation to notice
his dogs and speak to them, as if rational companions; and indeed there
appears to be a vast deal of rationality in these faithful attendants
on man, derived from their close intimacy with him. Maida deported
himself with a gravity becoming his age and size, and seemed to
consider himself called upon to preserve a great degree of dignity and
decorum in our society. As he jogged along a little distance ahead of
us, the young dogs would gambol about him, leap on his neck, worry at
his ears, and endeavor to tease him into a frolic. The old dog would
keep on for a long time with imperturbable solemnity, now and then
seeming to rebuke the wantonness of his young companions. At length he
would make a sudden turn, seize one of them, and tumble him in the
dust; then giving a glance at us, as much as to say, "You see,
gentlemen, I can't help giving way to this nonsense," would resume his
gravity and jog on as before.
Scott amused himself with these peculiarities. "I make no doubt," said
he, "when Maida is alone with these young dogs, he throw's gravity
aside, and plays the boy as much as any of them; but he is ashamed to
do so in our company, and seems to say, 'Ha' done with your nonsense,
youngsters: what will the laird and that other gentleman think of me if
I give way to such foolery?'"
Maida reminded him, he said, of a scene on board an armed yacht in
which he made an excursion with his friend Adam Ferguson.
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