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"Good-evening, kind friends." The next day there wasn't a cow or a calf that belonged to Hudden or Dudden but her hide was going to the fair in Hudden's biggest cart drawn by Dudden's strongest pair of horses. When they came to the fair, each one took a hide over his arm, and there they were walking through the fair, bawling out at the top of their voices: "Hides to sell! hides to sell!"
Hasn't it kept me and mine for years?" and with that Donald hit the hide another whack and out jumped a second penny. Well, the long and the short of it was that Donald let the hide go, and, that very evening, who but he should walk up to Hudden's door? "Good-evening, Hudden. Will you lend me your best pair of scales?" Hudden stared and Hudden scratched his head, but he lent the scales.
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