"Confound the old hag! Would you believe it, Bob, that Mrs Rowbottom has wanted to grapple with me these last two years--wants to make me landlord of the Goose and Pepper-box, taking her as a fixture with the premises. I suspect I should be the goose and she the pepper-box;--but we never could shape that course. In the first place, there's too much of her; and, in the next, there's too much of me. I explained this to the old lady as well as I could; and she swelled up as big as a balloon, saying, that, when people were really _attached_, they never _attached_ any weight to such trifling obstacles." "But you must have been sweet upon her, Cockle?" "Nothing more than a little sugar to take the nauseous taste of my long bill out of her mouth. As for the love part of the story, that was all her own. I never contradict a lady, because it's not polite; but since I explained, the old woman has huffed, and won't trust me with half a quartern--will she, Moonshine?" "No, sar: when I try talk her over, and make promise, she say dat _all moonshine_. But, sar, I try 'gain--I tink I know how." And Moonshine disappeared, leaving us in the dark as to what his plans might be. "I wonder you never did marry, Cockle," I observed. "You would not wonder if you knew all. I must say, that once, and once only, I was very near it. And to whom do you think it was--a woman of colour." "A black woman?" "No: not half black, only a quarter--what they call a quadroon in the West Indies. But, thank Heaven! she refused me." "Refused you? hang it, Cockle, I never thought that you had been refused by a woman of colour." "I was, though. You shall hear how it happened. She had been the quadroon wife (you know what that means) of a planter of the name of Guiness; he died, and not only bequeathed her her liberty, but also four good houses in Port Royal, and two dozen slaves. He had been dead about two years, and she was about thirty, when I first knew her. She was very rich, for she had a good income and spent nothing, except in jewels and dress to deck out her own person, which certainly was very handsome, even at that time, for she never had had any family. Well, if I was not quite in love with her, I was with her houses and her money; and I used to sit in her verandah and talk sentimental. One day I made my proposal. `Massa Cockle,' said she, `dere two ting I not like; one is, I not like your name. 'Pose I 'cept your offer, you must change you name.' "`Suppose you accept my offer, Mistress Guiness, you'll change 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 another 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?'