"No, young man," returned the seaman with blinking solemnity.  "I'm not shammin' drunk.  I on'y wish I was, for I'm three sheets in the wind at this minute, an' I've a splittin' headache due i' the mornin'.  The way as you've got to find out whether I'm fair an' above-board is to look me straight in the face an' don't wink.  If that don't settle the question, p'r'aps it'll convince you w'en I tells you that I don't care a rap whether you go back to that there grog-shop or not.  Only I'll clear my conscience--leastways, wot's left of it--by tellin' ye that if you do-- you--you'll wish as how you hadn't--supposin' they leave you the power to wish anything at all."