We vowed upon our honour as gentlemen we had tasted grog for the first time in our lives on board the Priscilla.

How about the girls?
they asked.

We informed them we knew none but girls who were ladies.

Thereupon one sailor nodded, one sent up a crow, one said the misfortune of the case lay in all girls being such precious fine ladies; and one spoke in dreadfully blank language, he accused us of treating the Priscilla as a tavern for the entertainment of bad company, stating that he had helped to row me and my associates from the shore to the ship.
'Poor Mr.Double!' says he; 'there was only one way for him to jump you two young gentlemen out o' that snapdragon bowl you was in--or quashmire, call it; so he 'ticed you on board wi' the bait you was swallowing, which was making the devil serve the Lord's turn.

And I'll remember that night, for I yielded to swearing, and drank too!' The other sailors roared with laughter.
I tipped them, not to appear offended by their suspicions.