"

"Here are my scales that he borrowed, and here's a gold piece still
sticking to them."

Off they went together, and they came to Donald's door. Donald had
finished making the last pile of ten gold pieces. And he couldn't
finish, because a piece had stuck to the scales.

In they walked without an "If you please" or "By your leave."

"Well, _I_ never!" that was all _they_ could say.

"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."

"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.'"

Out came the tanner:

"How much for your hides, my good men?"

"Their weight in gold."

"It's early in the day to come out of the tavern." That was all the
tanner said, and back he went to his yard.

"Hides to sell! Fine fresh hides to sell!"

Out came the cobbler:

"How much for your hides, my men?"

"Their weight in gold."

"Is it making game of me you are? Take that for your pains," and the
cobbler dealt Hudden a blow that made him stagger.

Up the people came running from one end of the fair to the other.
"What's the matter? What's the matter?" cried they.

"Here are a couple of vagabonds selling hides at their weight in
gold," said the cobbler.

"Hold 'em fast; hold 'em fast!" bawled the innkeeper, who was the
last to come up, he was so fat. "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.

"What's the matter, friends?" said he, as he saw them tearing along,
their hats knocked in, and their co