I think , Mary , I 'd find lost Margaret there . '' He had already told me the story of `` lost Margaret , '' as he always called her . He rarely spoke of her , but when he did his love for her trembled in every tone -- a love that had never grown faint or forgetful . Uncle Jesse was seventy ; it was fifty years since lost Margaret had fallen asleep one day in her father 's dory and drifted -- as was supposed , for nothing was ever known certainly of her fate -- across the harbour and out of the Gate , to perish in the black thunder squall that had come up suddenly that long-ago afternoon . But to Uncle Jesse those fifty years were but as yesterday when it is past . `` I walked the shore for months after that , '' he said sadly , `` looking to find her dear , sweet little body , but the sea never gave her back to me . But I 'll find her sometime . I wisht I could tell you just how she looked but I ca n't . I 've seen a fine silvery mist hanging over the Gate at sunrise that seemed like her -- and then again I 've seen a white birch in the woods back yander that made me think of her . She had pale brown hair and a little white face , and long slender fingers like yours , Mary , only browner , for she was a shore girl . Sometimes I wake up in the night and hear the sea calling to me in the old way and it seems as if lost Margaret called in it . And when there 's a storm and the waves are sobbing and moaning I hear her lamenting among them . And when they laugh on a gay day it 's her laugh -- lost Margaret 's sweet little laugh . The sea took her from me but some day I 'll find her , Mary . It ca n't keep us apart forever . '' I had not been long at Golden Gate before I saw Uncle Jesse 's `` life-book , '' as he quaintly called it . He needed no coaxing to show it and he proudly gave it to me to read . It was an old leather-bound book filled with the record of his voyages and adventures . I thought what a veritable treasure trove it would be to a writer . Every sentence was a nugget .
In itself the book had no literary merit ; Uncle Jesse 's charm XXXXX story-telling failed him when he came to pen and ink ; he could only jot down roughly the outlines of his famous tales , and both spelling and grammar were sadly askew .
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