THE COY PHYLLIS. 95 



I told her if she wanted me she must come and fetch 

 me, as I was forbidden to go into the water. " Hang 

 your imperance, I says, Master Harry, but I'll find one 

 as shall fetch you in a twinkling ! " So saying, the 

 eloquent Martha suited the action to the word, and ran 

 round the turn of the river, where it seems she knew 

 the keeper was fishing, who, I believe, in village phrase, 

 " kept company with her." Down comes John, a good- 

 natured fellow; tickles me with the point of his fishing 

 rod in gamesome mood ; makes two or three casts with 

 his fly at me ; and at length wades to me, and places 

 me on the mainland at the gentle Martha's side. Peace 

 was made, but without promise for the future. 



Henceforth, when I could escape control, I divided 

 my time between the water and the meadows : in warm 

 weather the water, in cold the land possessed me. 

 Then I began to tamper with the minnows ; and, 

 growing more ambitious, after a sleepless night full of 

 high contrivance, I betook me at early dawn to a wood 

 near the house, where I selected some of the straightest 

 hazel sticks I could find, which I tied together and 

 christened a fishing-rod : a rude and uncouth weapon 

 it was. I next sought out Phyllis, a favourite cow so 

 called, in order to have a pluck at her tail to make a 

 line with. But Phyllis was coy, and withheld her 

 consent to spoliation ; for when I got hold of her 

 posterior honours, she galloped off, dragging me along, 

 tail in hand, till she left me deposited in a water-course 

 amongst the frogs. The dairy-maid, I think, would 

 have overcome this difficulty for me, had I not dis- 

 covered that horse-hair, and not cow's tail, was the 



