Джозеф Джейкобс
Irish Tales / Ирландские сказки. Книга для чтения на английском языке
Комментарии, словарь Е. Г. Тигонен
© КАРО, 2012
Hudden and Dudden and Donald ONeary
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 werent happy. For just between their two farms there lived a poor man by the name of Donald ONeary. He had a hovel over his head[1] and a strip of grass that was barely enough to keep his one cow, Daisy, from starving, and, though she did her best, it was but seldom that Donald got a drink of milk or a roll of butter from Daisy. You would think there was little here to make Hudden and Dudden jealous, but so it is, the more one has the more one wants, and Donalds neighbours lay awake of nights scheming how they might get hold of his little strip of grassland. Daisy, poor thing, they never thought of; she was just a bag of bones.
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 ONeary out of the country.
Lets kill Daisy, said Hudden at last; if that doesnt make him clear out, nothing will.
No sooner said than agreed, and it wasnt dark before Hudden and Dudden crept up to the little shed where lay poor Daisy trying her best to chew the cud, though she hadnt 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.
Well, Donald was a shrewd fellow, and downhearted though he was, began to think if he could get any good out of Daisys death. He thought and he thought, and the next day you could have seen him trudging off early to the fair, Daisys hide over his shoulder, every penny he had jingling in his pockets. Just before he got to the fair, he made several slits in the hide, put a penny in each slit, walked into the best inn of the town as bold as if it belonged to him, and, hanging the hide up to a nail in the wall, sat down.
Some of your best whiskey, says he to the landlord. But the landlord didnt like his looks. Is it fearing I wont pay you, you are? says Donald. Why, I have a hide here that gives me all the money I want. And with that he hit it a whack with his stick and out hopped a penny. The landlord opened his eyes, as you may fancy.
Whatll you take for that hide?
Its not for sale, my good man.
Will you take a gold piece?
Its not for sale, I tell you. Hasnt 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[2] was that Donald let the hide go, and, that very evening, who but he should walk up to Huddens 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.
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.
If Hudden had stared before, he stared ten times more now, and no sooner was Donalds back turned, than he was off as hard as he could pelt to Duddens.
Good evening, Dudden. That vagabond, bad luck to him
You mean Donald ONeary?
And who else should I mean? Hes back here weighing out sackfuls of gold.
How do you know that?
Here are my scales that he borrowed, and heres a gold piece still sticking to them.
Off they went together, and they came to Donalds door. Donald had finished making the last pile of ten gold pieces. And he couldnt finish because a piece had stuck to the scales.
In they walked without an If you please or By your leave[3].
Well, I never![4] 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 ONeary.
Good evening, kind friends.
The next day there wasnt a cow or a calf that belonged to Hudden or Dudden but her hide was going to the fair in Huddens biggest cart drawn by Duddens 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.
Its 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. Whats the matter? Whats 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. Ill wager its 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 didnt run the slower because all the dogs of the town were at their heels[5].
Well, as you may fancy, if they loved Donald little before, they loved him less now.
Whats the matter, friends? said be, as he saw them tearing along, their hats knocked in, and their coats torn off, and their faces black and blue. Is it fighting youve been? Or mayhap you met the police, in luck to them?
Well police you, you vagabond. Its mighty smart you thought yourself, deluding us with your lying tales.
Who deluded you? Didnt 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 Hud-den and Dudden popped Donald ONeary, 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 ONeary between.
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.
Lets go in, said Hudden; Im dead beat[6]. Its 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 wasnt asked, but he was lumped down at the inn door for all the world as if[7] he had been a sack of potatoes.