Read Ebook: Olla Podrida by Marryat Frederick

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Ebook has 124 lines and 9838 words, and 3 pages

"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 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.

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

"`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."

"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."

"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."

"I understand you, you sooty fellow--here, drink this, and see if it will brighten up your wits. He's a regular turnpike, that fellow, every thing must pay toll."

"Massa Cockle, I tell Missy O'Bottom dat you come soon as you hab two glass grog; 'pose you only drink one."

"That won't do, Moonshine, for I'm just mixing my second; you must find out something better."

"One glass grog, massa, gib no more dan one tought--dat you ab--"

"Well, then, here's another.--Now recollect, before you drink it, you are to get me out of this scrape; if not, you get into a scrape, for I'll beat you as--as white as snow."

"Drink first, sar, make sure of dat," replied Moonshine, swallowing off the brandy; "tink about it afterwards.--Eh! I ab it," cried Moonshine, who disappeared, and Cockle and I continued in conversation over our grog, which to sailors is acceptable in any one hour in the twenty-four. About ten minutes afterwards Cockle perceived Moonshine in the little front garden. "There's that fellow, Bob; what is he about?"

"Only picking a nosegay, I believe," replied I, looking out of the window.

"The rascal, he must be picking all my chrysanthemums. Stop him, Bob."

But Moonshine vaulted over the low pales, and there was no stopping him. It was nearly an hour before he returned; and when he came in, we found that he was dressed out in his best, looking quite a dandy, and with some of his 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 more. I am like you, with a clean swept hold. You acknowledge the difficulty?"

"It stares me in the face, Bob; what must be done?"

"I'll tell you--in the first place, what have you for dinner?"

"Moonshine, what have we got for dinner?"

"Dinner, sar?--me not yet tink about dinner. What you like to eat, sar?"

"What have we got in the house, Moonshine?"

"Let me see, sar? first place, we ab very fine piece picklum pork; den we have picklum pork; and den--let me tink--den we ab, we ab picklum pork, sar."

"The long and the short of it is, Bob, that we have nothing but a piece of pickled pork; can you dine off that?"

"Can a duck swim, Cockle!"

"Well, then, Cockle, as all that is required is to put the pot on the fire, you can probably spare Moonshine, after he has done that, and we will look to the cookery; start him off with a note to Mr Johns, and he can bring back a couple of bottles from my quarters."

"Really dat very fine tought, Massa Farren; I put in pork, and den I go and come back in one hour."

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