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Updated: June 13, 2025
He returned home to his wife, and they set in order a feast; and that was a feast if ever there was one, oh son and brother. There was once upon a time two farmers, and their names were Hudden and Dudden. They had poultry in their yards, sheep on the uplands, and scores of cattle in the meadow-land alongside the river. But for all that they weren't happy.
"'He's calling for help, says Donald; 'wait now till I go in and help him. "'Stay where you are, says Dudden; 'haven't you cattle enough already? It's my turn to have some of them now. And in he jumped, and Hudden and Dudden was both drowned.
When Donald was safe at home, he pulled out his pocketful of bright gold and began to weigh each piece in the scales. But Hudden had put a lump of butter at the bottom, and so the last piece of gold stuck fast to the scales when he took them back to Hudden.
"Good-evening, Hudden; good-evening, Dudden. Ah! you thought you had played me a fine trick, but you never did me a better turn in all your lives. When I found poor Daisy dead, I thought to myself, 'Well, her hide may fetch something; and it did. Hides are worth their weight in gold in the market just now." Hudden nudged Dudden, and Dudden winked at Hudden. "Good-evening, Donald O'Neary."
As for Donald, you may be sure his leave wasn't asked, but he was lumped down at the inn door for all the world as if he had been a sack of potatoes. "Sit still, you vagabond," said Dudden; "if we don't mind waiting, you needn't." Donald held his peace, but after a while he heard the glasses clink, and Hudden singing away at the top of his voice.
"Well, here you are," said Dudden, for they were now come to the Brown Lake, and, unslinging the sack, they pitched it plump into the lake. "You'll not be playing your tricks on us any longer," said Hudden. "True for you," said Dudden. "Ah, Donald, my boy, it was an ill day when you borrowed my scales."
"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.
But the Brown Lake was far, the road was dusty, Hudden and Dudden were sore and weary, and parched with thirst. There was an inn by the roadside. "Let's go in," said Hudden; "I'm dead beat. It's heavy he is for the little he had to eat." If Hudden was willing, so was Dudden.
'You never saw such a demand for hides in your life, says he, 'as there is in the town this present time. "No sooner had he said that than Hudden and Dudden went home and killed their own oxen and set off for the town to sell the hides. But when they got there they could get no more for them than the common price of hides, and they came home again vowing vengeance on Donald.
No sooner said than agreed, and it wasn't dark before Hudden and Dudden crept up to the little shed where lay poor Daisy trying her best to chew the cud, though she hadn't had as much grass in the day as would cover your hand. And when Donald came to see if Daisy was all snug for the night, the poor beast had only time to lick his hand once before she died.
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