This led to more talking, and Johnny drifted out of the conversation to wait on other customers.
The more beer Captain Nelson and I drank, the better we got acquainted.
In me he found an appreciative listener, who, by virtue of book-reading, knew much about the sea-life he had lived.

So he drifted back to his wild young days, and spun many a rare yarn for me, while we downed beer, treat by treat, all through a blessed summer afternoon.

And it was only John Barleycorn that made possible that long afternoon with the old sea-dog.
It was Johnny Heinhold who secretly warned me across the bar that I was getting pickled and advised me to take small beers.

But as long as Captain Nelson drank large beers, my pride forbade anything else than large beers.

And not until the skipper ordered his first small beer did I order one for myself.