master's finest flowers, in a large nosegay, sticking in his
waistcoat.

"All right, sar, all right; dat last glass grog gib me fine idee; you
neber ab more trouble bout Missy O'Bottom."

"Well, let's hear," said Cockle.

"I dress mysel bery 'pruce, as you see, massa. I take nosegay."

"Yes, I see that, and be hanged to you."

"Neber mind, Massa Cockle. I say to Missy O'Bottom, `Massa no able
come, he very sorry, so he send me;' `well,' she say, `what you ab to
say, sit down, Moonshine, you very nice man.' Den I say, `Massa Cockle
lub you very much, he tink all day how he make you appy; den he say,
Missy O'Bottom very fine 'oman, make very fine wife.' Den Missy
O'Bottom say, `'Top a moment,' and she bring a bottel from cupboard, and
me drink something did make 'tomach feel really warm; and den she say,
`Moonshine, what you massa say?' den I say, massa say, `You fine 'oman,
make good wife;' but he shake um head, and say, `I very old man, no good
for noting; I tink all day how I make her appy, and I find out--
Moonshine, you young man, you 'andsome feller, you good servant, I not
like you go away, but I tink you make Missy O'Bottom very fine 'usband;
so I not care for myself, you go to Missy O'Bottom, and tell I send you,
dat I part wid you, and give you to her for 'usband.'"

Cockle and I burst out laughing. "Well, and what did Mrs Rowbottom say
to that?"

"She jump up, and try to catch me hair, but I bob my head, and she miss;
den she say, `You filthy black rascal, you tell you massa, 'pose he ever
come here, I break his white bald pate; and 'pose you ever come here, I
smash you woolly black skull.'--Dat all, Massa Cockle; you see all right
now, and I quite dry wid talking."

"All right! do you call it. I never meant to quarrel with the old
woman; what d'ye think, Bob--is it all right?"

"Why, you must either have quarrelled with her, or married her, that's
clear."

"Well, then, I'm clear of her, and so it's all right. It a'n't every
man who can get out of matrimony by sacrificing a nosegay and two
glasses of grog."

"Tree glasses, Massa Cockle," said Moonshine.

"Well, three glasses; here it is, you dog, and its dog cheap, too.
Thank God, next Wednesday's quarter day. Bob, you must dine with me--
cut the service for to-day."

"With all my heart," replied I, "and I'll salve my conscience by walking
the beach all night; but, Cockle, look here, there is but a drop in the
bottle, and you have no mo