THE COY PHYLLIS. 75 



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 elo- 

 quent 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, 

 M 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, grow- 

 ing 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 spoli- 

 ation ; 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 discovered that horse-hair, and not 

 cow's tail, was the proper material for fishing lines ; so 



