"Well, this Joe were a Barnstaple man, bred an' born. But he had a brother--Sam were hes name--as came an' settled out Carne way; 'Ould These-an'-Thicky,' us used to call 'n. Sam was a crowder, [2] you must knaw, an' used to play the fiddle over to Tregarrick Fair; but he cudn' niver play more'n two tunes. 'Which'll 'ee ha',' he used to say, 'which'll 'ee ha'--these or thicky?' That's why, tho' he was christened Sam, us used to call 'n These-an'-Thicky for short." "I see." "This 'ere Sam Bonaday, tho' he came an' settled down i' these parts, was a bettermost body i' some ways, an' had a-seen a heap o' life 'long wi' ould Commodore Trounce. Sam was teetotum to the Commodore, an' acted currier when th' ould man travelled, which he did a brave bit--brushin' hes clothes, an' shinin' hes boots, an' takin' the tickets, an' the res'. The Commodore were mighty fond o' Sam: an' as for Sam, he used to say he mou't ha' been the Commodore's brother-- on'y, you see, he warn't." "I think I understand," said Mr. Fogo. "Iss, sir. Well, t'ward the end o' hes days the Commodore were stashuned out at Gibraltar, an' o' cou'se takes Sam. He'd a-been ailin' for a tidy spell, had the Commodore, an' I reckon that place finished 'un; for he hadn' been there a month afore he tuk a chill, purty soon Sam saw 'twas on'y a matter o' time afore th' ould man wud go dead. "Sam kep' hes maaster goin' 'pon brandy an' milk for a while; but wan day he comes in an' finds 'un settin' up in bed an' starin'. The Commodore was a little purgy, [3] bustious [4] sort o' man, sir, wi' a squinny eye an' mottles upon hes face pretty near so thick as the Milky Way; an' he skeered Sam a bit, settin' up there an' glazin'. "Th' ould man had no more sproil [5] nor a babby, an' had pretty nigh lost hes mouth-speech, but he beckons Sam to the bed, and whispers-- "' Sam, you've a-been a gude sarvent to me.' "'Gude maasters makes gude sarvents,' says Sam, an' falls to cryin' bitterly. "'You'm down i' my will,' says the Commodore, 'so you've no call to take on so. But look 'ee here, Sam; there's wan thing more I wants 'ee to do for your old maaster. I've a-been a Wanderin' Jewel all my life,' says he, '--wanderer 'pon the face o' the earth, like--like--' "'Cain,' says Sam. "'Well, not azackly. Hows'ever, you an' me, Sam, have a-been like Jan Tresize's geese, never happy unless they be where they bain't, an' that's the truth. An' now,' says he, 'I've a-tuk a consait I'd like my ould bones to be carr'd home to Carne, an' laid to rest 'long wi' my haveage. [6] All the Trounces have a-been berried in Carne Churchyard, Sam, an' I'm thinkin' I'd like to go back to mun, like the Prodigious Son. So what I wants 'ee to do es this:--When I be dead an' gone, you mus' get a handy box made, so's I shall carry aisy, an' take me back to England. You'll find plenty o' money for the way i' the skivet [7] o' my chest there, i' the corner.'