e your
name. I don't know how I am to change mine,' I replied.

"'I make 'quiry, Massa Cockle, and I find that by act and parliament you
get anoder name.'

"'An act of parliament!' I cried.

"'Yes, sar; and I pay five hundred gold Joe 'fore I hear people call me
Missy Cockle--dat _shell_ fish,' said she, and she turned up her nose.

"'Humph!' said I, 'and pray what is the next thing which you wish?'

"'De oder ting, sar, is, you no ab _coat am arms_, no ab seal to your
watch, with bird and beast pon 'em; now 'pose you promise me dat you
take oder name, and buy um coat am arms; den, sar, I take de matter into
'sideration.'

"'Save yourself the trouble, ma'am,' said I, jumping up; 'my answer is
short--I'll see you and your whole generation hanged first!'"

"Well, that was a very odd sort of a wind-up to a proposal; but here
comes Moonshine."

The black entered the room, and put a full bottle down on the table.

"Dare it is, sar," said he, grinning.

"Well done, Moonshine, now I forgive you; but how did you manage it?"

"Me tell you all de tory, sar--first I see Missy O'Bottom, and I say,
'How you do, how you find yourself dis marning? Massa come, I tink,
by-an-bye, but he almost fraid,' I said. She say, 'What he fraid for?'
'He tink you angry--not like see him--no lub him any more: he very
sorry, very sick at 'art--he very much in lub wid you.'"

"The devil you did!" roared Cockle; "now I shall be bothered again with
that old woman; I wish she was moored as a buoy to the Royal George."

"Massa no hear all yet. I say, 'Miss O'Bottom, 'pose you no tell?' 'I
tell.'--'Massa call for clean shirt dis morning, and I say, it no clean
shirt day, sar;' he say, 'Bring me clean shirt;' and den he put him on
clean shirt and he put him on clean duck trousers, he make me brush him
best blue coat. I say, 'What all dis for, massa?' He put him hand up to
him head, and he fetch him breath and say--'I fraid Missy O'Bottom, no
hear me now--I no ab courage;' and den he sit all dress ready, and no
go. Den he say, 'Moonshine, gib me one glass grog, den I ab courage.' I
go fetch bottel, and all grog gone--not one lilly drop left; den massa
fall down plump in him big chair, and say, 'I nebber can go.' 'But,' say
Missy O'Bottom, 'why he no send for some?' ''Cause,' I say, 'quarter-day
not come--money all gone.'--Den say she, 'If you poor massa so _very_
bad, den I trust you one bottel--you gib my compliments and say, I very
appy to s