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Updated: June 24, 2025
How's the wind?" said the master, throwing his feet outside the standing bedplace, as he sat up. "N.W., veering to N.N.W. in the squalls. We have lost good ten miles since yesterday evening, and are close to Dudden Sands," replied Newton. "I think we must bear up, for the gale shows no signs of breaking."
Then Donald went away home, driving the cattle before him. "It was not long then till Hudden and Dudden came out of the inn, and they took up the sack, thinking that Donald was still inside it, and they took it to the river and threw it into a deep place. Then they went home, and there they found Donald before them, and a herd of the finest cattle they ever saw. 'How is this, Donald? they said.
Well, Hudden and Dudden was in such a hurry they couldn't get to the river soon enough, and when they were there Donald picked up a stone, and said he: 'Watch where I throw this stone, and that's where you'll find the most of the cattle.
"Goose-Gibbie, sir?" said my persevering friend, "Goose-Gibbie, whose ministry was fraught with such consequences to the personages of the narrative?" I am not quite positive as to the fate of Goose-Gibbie, but am inclined to think him the same with one Gilbert Dudden, alias Calf-Gibbie, who was whipped through Hamilton for stealing poultry."
"Ah! now, look, there they are," cried Donald, as he pointed to the clouds in the lake. "Where? where?" cried Hudden, and "Don't be greedy!" cried Dudden, as he jumped his hardest to be up first with the fat cattle. But if he jumped first, Hudden wasn't long behind. They never came back. Maybe they got too fat, like the cattle.
Ah! it's a deal I'm giving up for you, sure as it is that I don't care for the princess." "Take my cattle in exchange," said the farmer; and you may guess it wasn't long before Donald was at their tails driving them homewards. Out came Hudden and Dudden, and the one took one end of the pole, and the other the other. "I'm thinking he's heavier," said Hudden.
One day Hudden met Dudden, and they were soon grumbling as usual, and all to the tune of "If only we could get that vagabond Donald O'Neary out of the country." "Let's kill Daisy," said Hudden at last; "if that doesn't make him clear out, nothing will."
"I'll wager it's one of the rogues who tricked me out of thirty gold pieces yesterday for a wretched hide." It was more kicks than halfpence that Hudden and Dudden got before they were well on their way home again, and they didn't run the slower because all the dogs of the town were at their heels. Well, as you may fancy, if they loved Donald little before, they loved him less now.
Didn't you see the gold with your own two eyes?" But it was no use talking. Pay for it he must, and should. There was a meal-sack handy, and into it Hudden and Dudden popped Donald O'Neary, tied him up tight, ran a pole through the knot, and off they started for the Brown Lake of the Bog, each with a pole-end on his shoulder, and Donald O'Neary between.
If Hudden had stared before, he stared ten times more now, and no sooner was Donald's back turned, than he was of as hard as he could pelt to Dudden's. "Good-evening, Dudden. That vagabond, bad luck to him " "You mean Donald O'Neary?" "And who else should I mean? He's back here weighing out sackfuls of gold." "How do you know that?"
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