es and bay adventurers.
Unfortunately for my stomach and mucous membranes, Nelson had a strange
quirk of nature that made him find happiness in treating me to beer. I
had no moral disinclination for beer, and just because I didn't like the
taste of it and the weight of it was no reason I should forgo the honour
of his company. It was his whim to drink beer, and to have me drink beer
with him. Very well, I would put up with the passing discomfort.

So we continued to talk at the bar, and to drink beer ordered and paid
for by Nelson. I think, now, when I look back upon it, that Nelson was
curious. He wanted to find out just what kind of a gink I was. He
wanted to see how many times I'd let him treat without offering to treat
in return.

After I had drunk half a dozen glasses, my policy of temperateness in
mind, I decided that I had had enough for that time. So I mentioned that
I was going aboard the Razzle Dazzle, then lying at the city wharf, a
hundred yards away.

I said good-bye to Nelson, and went on down the wharf. But, John
Barleycorn, to the extent of six glasses, went with me. My brain tingled
and was very much alive. I was uplifted by my sense of manhood. I, a
truly-true oyster pirate, was going aboard my own boat after hob-nobbing
in the Last Chance with Nelson, the greatest oyster pirate of us all.
Strong in my brain was the vision of us leaning against the bar and
drinking beer. And curious it was, I decided, this whim of nature that
made men happy in spending good money for beer for a fellow like me who
didn't want it.

As I pondered this, I recollected that several times other men, in
couples, had entered the Last Chance, and first one, then the other, had
treated to drinks. I remembered, on the drunk on the Idler, how Scotty
and the harpooner and myself had raked and scraped dimes and nickels with
which to buy the whisky. Then came my boy code: when on a day a fellow
gave another a "cannon-ball" or a chunk of taffy, on some other day he
would expect to receive back a cannon-ball or a chunk of taffy.

That was why Nelson had lingered at the bar. Having bought a drink, he
had waited for me to buy one. I HAD, LET HIM BUY SIX DRINKS AND NEVER
ONCE OFFERED TO TREAT. And he was the great Nelson! I could feel myself
blushing with shame. I sat down on the stringer-piece of the wharf and
buried my face in my hands. And the heat of my shame burned up my neck
and into my cheeks and forehead. I