Part 68 (1/2)
”Why, to tell you the truth, Bob, I'm all wrong. I'm on the stool of repentance; to wit, on this easy chair, doing penance, as you perceive, in a pair of duck trousers. Last night I was half seas over, and tolerably happy; this morning, I am high and dry, and intolerably miserable. Carried more sail than ballast last night, and lost my head; this morning I've found it again, with a pig of ballast in it I believe.
All owing to my good nature.”
”How is that, c.o.c.kle?”
”Why, that Jack Piper was here last night; and rather than he should drink all the grog and not find his way home, I drank some myself--he'd been in a bad way if I had not, poor fellow!--and now, you see, I'm suffering all from good nature. Easiness of disposition has been my ruin, and has rounded me into this ball, by wearing away all my sharp edges, Bob.”
”It certainly was very considerate and very kind of you, c.o.c.kle, especially when we know how much you must have acted at variance with your inclinations.”
”Yes, Bob, yes; I am the milk punch of human kindness; I often cry--when the chimney smokes; and sometimes when I laugh too much. You see, I not only give my money, as others will do, but, as last night, I even give my head to a.s.sist a fellow-creature. I could, however, dispense with it for an hour or two this morning.”
”Nay, don't say that; for although you might dispense with the upper part, you could not well get on without your mouth, c.o.c.kle.”
”Very true, Bob; a chap without a mouth would be like a s.h.i.+p without a companion hatch;--talking about that, the combings of my mouth are rather dry--what do you say, Bob, shall we call Moons.h.i.+ne?”
”Why it's rather broad daylight for Moons.h.i.+ne.”
”He's but an eclipse--a total eclipse, I may say. The fact is, my head is so heavy, that it rolls about on my shoulders; and I must have a stiffener down my throat to prop it up. So, Moons.h.i.+ne, s.h.i.+ne out, you black-faced rascal!”
The negro was outside, cleaning his knives:--he answered, but continued at his work.
”How me s.h.i.+ne, Ma.s.sa c.o.c.kle, when you neber gib me _s.h.i.+ner_?”
”No: but I'll give you a _s.h.i.+nner_ on your lower limb, that shall make you feel planet-struck, if you don't show your ugly face,” replied c.o.c.kle.
”Ma.s.sa c.o.c.kle, you full of dictionary dis marning.”
”Come here, sir!”
”Why you so parsonal dis marning, sar,” replied Moons.h.i.+ne, rubbing away at the knife-board--”my face no s.h.i.+ne more dan your white skull widout hair.”
”I pulled one out, you scoundrel, every time you stole my grog, and now they are all gone--Hairs! what should I do with heirs when I've nothing to leave,” continued c.o.c.kle, addressing me--”hairs are like rats, that quit a s.h.i.+p as soon as she gets old. Now, Bob, I wonder how long that rascal will make us wait. I brought him home and gave him his freedom--but give an inch and he takes an ell. Moons.h.i.+ne, I begin to feel angry--the tip of my nose is red already.”
”Come directly, Ma.s.sa c.o.c.kle.”
Moons.h.i.+ne gave two more rubs on the board, and then made his appearance.
”You call me, sar?”
”What's the use of calling you, you black rascal!”
”Now, sar, dat not fair--you say to me, Moons.h.i.+ne, always do one ting first--so I 'bey order and finish knives--dat ting done, I come and 'bey nest order.”
”Well, bring some cold water and some tumblers.”
Moons.h.i.+ne soon appeared with the articles, and then walked out of the room, grinning at me.
”Moons.h.i.+ne, where are you going, you thief?--when did you ever see me drink cold water, or offer it to my friends?”
”Nebber see you drink it but once, and den you tipsy, and tink it gin; but you very often gib notin but water to your friends, Ma.s.sa c.o.c.kle.”