As for the maids, for a minute or more they made one cluster; then, shyly or with laughter, they drifted apart like the petals of a wind-blown rose, and silk doublet and hose gave chase. Five minutes saw the goodly company of damsels errant and would-be bridegrooms scattered far and near over the smiling meadow. For the most part they went man and maid, but the fairer of the feminine cohort had rings of clamorous suitors from whom to choose. As for me, I walked alone; for if by chance I neared a maid, she looked (womanlike) at my apparel first, and never reached my face, but squarely turned her back. So disengaged, I felt like a guest at a mask, and in some measure enjoyed the show, though with an uneasy consciousness that I was pledged to become, sooner or later, a part of the spectacle. I saw a shepherdess fresh from Arcadia wave back a dozen importunate gallants, then throw a knot of blue ribbon into their midst, laugh with glee at the scramble that ensued, and finally march off with the wearer of the favor. I saw a neighbor of mine, tall Jack Pride, who lived twelve miles above me, blush and stammer, and bow again and again to a milliner's apprentice of a girl, not five feet high and all eyes, who dropped a curtsy at each bow. When I had passed them fifty yards or more, and looked back, they were still bobbing and bowing. And I heard a dialogue between Phyllis and Corydon. Says Phyllis, “Any poultry?” Corydon. “A matter of twalve hens and twa cocks.” Phyllis. “A cow?” Corydon. “Twa.” Phyllis. “How much tobacco?” Corydon. “Three acres, hinny, though I dinna drink the weed mysel'. I'm a Stewart, woman, an' the King's puir cousin.” Phyllis. “What household plenishing?” Corydon. “Ane large bed, ane flock bed, ane trundle bed, ane chest, ane trunk, ane leather cairpet, sax cawfskin chairs an' twa-three rush, five pair o' sheets an' auchteen dowlas napkins, sax alchemy spunes”-- Phyllis. “I'll take you.” At the far end of the meadow, near to the fort, I met young Hamor, alone, flushed, and hurrying back to the more populous part of the field. “Not yet mated?” I asked. “Where are the maids' eyes?” “By--!” he answered, with an angry laugh. “If they're all like the sample I've just left, I'll buy me a squaw from the Paspaheghs!” I smiled. “So your wooing has not prospered?” His vanity took fire. “I have not wooed in earnest,” he said carelessly, and hitched forward his cloak of sky-blue tuftaffeta with an air. “I sheered off quickly enough, I warrant you, when I found the nature of the commodity I had to deal with.” “Ah!” I said. “When I left the crowd they were going very fast. You had best hurry, if you wish to secure a bargain.” “I'm off,” he answered; then, jerking his thumb over his shoulder, “If you keep on to the river and that clump of cedars, you will find Termagaunt in ruff and farthingale.”