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. 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.
"I won't have her, I tell you; I won't have her!" said Donald. But
nobody heeded what he said.
"I won't have her, I tell you; I won't have her!" said Donald, and
this time he said it louder; but nobody heeded what he said.
"I won't have her, I tell you; I won't have her!" said Donald; and
this time he said it as loud as he could.
"And who won't you have, may I be so bold as to ask?" said a farmer,
who had just come up with a drove of cattle, and was turning in for
a glass.
"It's the king's daughter. They are bothering the life out of me to
marry her."
"You're the lucky fellow. I'd give something to be in your shoes."
"Do you see that now! Wouldn't it be a fine thing for a farmer to be
marrying a princess, all dressed in gold and jewels?"
"Jewels, do you say? Ah, now, couldn't you take me with you?"
"Well, you're an honest fellow, and as I don't care for the king's
daughter, though she's as beautiful as the day, and is covered with
jewels from top to toe, you shall have her. Just undo the cord, and
let me out; they tied me up tight, as they knew I'd run away from
her."
Out crawled Donald; in crept the farmer.
"Now lie still, and don't mind the shaking; it's only rumbling over
the palace steps you'll be. And maybe they'll abuse you for a
vagabond, who won't have the king's daughter; but you needn't mind
that. 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.
"Ah, never mind," said Dudden; "it's only a step now to the Brown
Lake."
"I'll have her now! I'll have her now!" bawled the farmer, from
inside the sack.
"By my faith, and you shall though," said Hudden, and he laid his
stick across the sack.
"I'll have her! I'll have her!" bawled the farmer, louder than ever.
"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."
Off they went, with a light step and an easy heart, but when they
were near home, who should they see but Donald O'Neary, and all
around him the cows were grazing, and the calves were kicking up
their heels and butting their heads together.
"Is it you, Donald?" said Dudden. "Faith, you've been quicker than
we have."
"True for you, Dudden, and let me thank you kindly; the turn was
good, if the will was ill. You'll have heard, like me, that the
Brown Lake leads to the Land of Promise. I always put it down as
lies, but it is just as true as my word. Look at the cattle."
Hudden stared, and Dudden gaped; but they couldn't get over the
cattle; fine fat cattle they were too.
"It's only the worst I could bring up with me," said Donald O'Neary;
"the others were so fat, there was no driving them. Faith, too, it's
little wonder they didn't care to leave, with grass as far as you
could see, and as sweet and juicy as fresh butter."
"Ah, now, Donald, we haven't always been friends," said Dudden,
"but, as I was just saying, you were ever a decent lad, and you'll
show us the way, won't
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. 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.
"I won't have her, I tell you; I won't have her!" said Donald. But
nobody heeded what he said.
"I won't have her, I tell you; I won't have her!" said Donald, and
this time he said it louder; but nobody heeded what he said.
"I won't have her, I tell you; I won't have her!" said Donald; and
this time he said it as loud as he could.
"And who won't you have, may I be so bold as to ask?" said a farmer,
who had just come up with a drove of cattle, and was turning in for
a glass.
"It's the king's daughter. They are bothering the life out of me to
marry her."
"You're the lucky fellow. I'd give something to be in your shoes."
"Do you see that now! Wouldn't it be a fine thing for a farmer to be
marrying a princess, all dressed in gold and jewels?"
"Jewels, do you say? Ah, now, couldn't you take me with you?"
"Well, you're an honest fellow, and as I don't care for the king's
daughter, though she's as beautiful as the day, and is covered with
jewels from top to toe, you shall have her. Just undo the cord, and
let me out; they tied me up tight, as they knew I'd run away from
her."
Out crawled Donald; in crept the farmer.
"Now lie still, and don't mind the shaking; it's only rumbling over
the palace steps you'll be. And maybe they'll abuse you for a
vagabond, who won't have the king's daughter; but you needn't mind
that. 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.
"Ah, never mind," said Dudden; "it's only a step now to the Brown
Lake."
"I'll have her now! I'll have her now!" bawled the farmer, from
inside the sack.
"By my faith, and you shall though," said Hudden, and he laid his
stick across the sack.
"I'll have her! I'll have her!" bawled the farmer, louder than ever.
"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."
Off they went, with a light step and an easy heart, but when they
were near home, who should they see but Donald O'Neary, and all
around him the cows were grazing, and the calves were kicking up
their heels and butting their heads together.
"Is it you, Donald?" said Dudden. "Faith, you've been quicker than
we have."
"True for you, Dudden, and let me thank you kindly; the turn was
good, if the will was ill. You'll have heard, like me, that the
Brown Lake leads to the Land of Promise. I always put it down as
lies, but it is just as true as my word. Look at the cattle."
Hudden stared, and Dudden gaped; but they couldn't get over the
cattle; fine fat cattle they were too.
"It's only the worst I could bring up with me," said Donald O'Neary;
"the others were so fat, there was no driving them. Faith, too, it's
little wonder they didn't care to leave, with grass as far as you
could see, and as sweet and juicy as fresh butter."
"Ah, now, Donald, we haven't always been friends," said Dudden,
"but, as I was just saying, you were ever a decent lad, and you'll
show us the way, won't
Similar Books
