"`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 himsel 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 trowsers, 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 hab courage;' and den he sit all dress ready, and no go. Den he say, `Moonshine, gib me one glass grog, den I hab courage.' I go fetch bottle, and all grog gone--not one lilly drop left; den massa fall down plump in him big chair, and say, `I neber can go.' `But,' say Missy O'Bottom, `why he no send for some?' `'Cause,' I say, `quarter-day no 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 see him, and stay at home,'--Den I say, `Missy O'Bottom pose massa not come soon as he take one two glass grog cut my head off.' Dat all, sar." "That's all, is it? A pretty scrape you have got me into, you scoundrel! What's to be done now?" "Why, let's have a glass of grog first, Cockle," replied I, "we've been waiting a long while for it, and we'll then talk the matter over." "Bob, you're sensible, and the old woman was no fool in sending the liquor--it requires _Dutch_ courage to attack such a Dutch-built old schuyt; let's get the cobwebs out of our throats, and then we must see how we can get out of this scrape. I expect that I shall pay `dearly for my whistle' this time I wet mine. Now, what's to be done, Bob?" "I think that you had better leave it to Moonshine," said I. "So I will.--Now, sir, as you have got me into this scrape, you must get me out of it.--D'ye hear?" "Yes, Massa Cockle, I tink--but no ab courage."