tumblerful like a man.

French Frank was elated by the sale, which I had bound with a
twenty-dollar goldpiece. He poured more wine. I had learned my
strong head and stomach, and I was certain I could drink with them
in a temperate way and not poison myself for a week to come. I
could stand as much as they; and besides, they had already been
drinking for some time.

We got to singing. Spider sang "The Boston Burglar" and "Black
Lulu." The Queen sang "Then I Wisht I Were a Little Bird." And her
sister Tess sang "Oh, Treat My Daughter Kindily." The fun grew
fast and furious. I found myself able to miss drinks without
being noticed or called to account. Also, standing in the
companionway, head and shoulders out and glass in hand, I could
fling the wine overboard.

I reasoned something like this: It is a queerness of these people
that they like this vile-tasting wine. Well, let them. I cannot
quarrel with their tastes. My manhood, according to their queer
notions, must compel me to appear to like this wine. Very well.
I shall so appear. But I shall drink no more than is unavoidable.

And the Queen began to make love to me, the latest recruit to the
oyster pirate fleet, and no mere hand, but a master and owner.
She went upon deck to take the air, and took me with her. She
knew, of course, but I never dreamed, how French Frank was raging
down below. Then Tess joined us, sitting on the cabin; and
Spider, and Bob; and at the last, Mrs. Hadley and French Frank.
And we sat there, glasses in hand, and sang, while the big