must have a history."

"Wa-al," said the farmer, smiling, "I d'no ez 't' hes so to speak a
hist'ry, an' yit there's allays somethin' amoosin' to me about that
platter. My father was a sea-farin' man most o' his life, an' only came
to the farm late in life, 'count of his older brother dyin', as owned
it. Well, he'd picked up a sight o' queer things in his voyages, father
had; he kep' some of 'em stowed away in boxes, and brought 'em out from
time to time, ez he happened to think of 'em. Wa-al, we young uns growed
up (four of us there was, all boys, and likely boys too, if I do say
it), and my brother Simon, who was nex' to me, he went to college. He
was a clever chap, Simon was, an' nothin' would do for _him_ but he must
be a gentleman.

"'Jacob kin stick to the farm an' the mill; if he likes,' says he, 'an'
Tom kin go to sea, an' William kin be a minister,--'t's all he's good
fer, I reckon; but _I'm_ goin' ter be a _gentleman_!' says Simon. He
said it in father's hearin' one day, an' father lay back in his cheer
an' laughed; he was allays laughin', father was. An' then he went off
upstairs, an' we heard him rummagin' about among his boxes up in the
loft-chamber. We dassn't none of us tech them boxes, we boys, though we
warn't afeard of nothin' else in the world, only father. Presently he
comes down again, still a-laughin', an' kerryin' that platter in his
hand. He sets it down afore Simon, an' says he, 'Wealthy,' says he (that
was my mother), 'Wealthy,' says he, 'let Simon have his victuals off o'
this platter every day, d'ye hear? The' ain't none other that's good
enough for him!' an' then he laughed again, till he fairly shook, an'
Simon looked black as thunder, an' took his hat an' went out. An' so
after Simon went to college, every time he come home for vacation and
set down to table with his nose kind o' turned up, like he was too good