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 best, and hadn’t much drink in him (considering ’twas a wedding, and the folks well off), he found he’d never reach the fence and get over in time to save himself. Well, as a last thought, he pulled out his fiddle as he runned, and struck up a jig, turning to the bull, and backing towards the corner. The bull softened down, and stood still, looking hard at William Dewy, who fiddled on and on; till a sort of a smile stole over the bull’s face. But no sooner did William stop his playing and turn to get over hedge than the bull would stop his smiling and lower his horns to the seat of William’s breeches. Well, William had to turn about and play on, willy-nilly; and ’twas only three o’clock in the world, and ’a knowed that nobody would come that way for hours, and he so leery and tired that ’a didn’t know what to do. When he had scraped till about four o’clock he felt that he verily would have to give over soon, and he said to himself, “There’s only this last tune between me and eternal welfare! Heaven save me, or I’m a done man.” Well, then he called to mind how he’d seed the cattle kneel o’ Christmas Eves in the dead o’ the night. It was not Christmas Eve then, but it came into his