William was silent. Question and questioner were beneath contempt.
"Waffor does it not like me?" he shouted stridently.
"Flies don't like people, silly."
"Waffor not?" retorted Thomas.
"They don't know anything about them."
"Well, I'll tell it about me. My name's Thomas," he said to the fly politely. "Now does it like me?"
William groaned. But the fly had now vanished, and Thomas once more grew impatient.
"Come on!" he said. "Come on an' find sings for me."
William's manly spirit was by this time so far broken that he followed his new acquaintance to a neighbouring pond, growling threateningly but impotently.
"Now," commanded his small tyrant, "take off your boots an' stockings an' go an' find things for me."