THE COY PHYLLIS 79 



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 over- 

 come this difficulty for me, had I not discovered 

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

 material for fishing lines ; so the coachman, who 

 was much my friend, plucked Champion and 

 Dumplin, at my request, and gave me as much hair 

 (black enough to be sure) as would make a dozen 

 lines. For three whole days did I twist and weave 

 like the Fates, and for three whole nights did I 

 dream of my work. Some rusty hooks I had 

 originally in my possession, which I found in an old 



