Owing possibly to some flaw in his mental make-up, Uncle Tom has been collecting old silver since I was so high […]. I knew all about that collection of his, not only because I had had to listen to him for hours on the subject of sconces, foliation, ribbon wreaths in high relief and gadroon borders, but because I had what you might call a personal interest in it, once having stolen an eighteenth-century cow-creamer for him.