`` She was fond of it ? '' `` Not that I knows on . Dunno 's she ever saw any sweet grass . No , it 's because it has a kind of motherly perfume -- not too young , you understand -- something kind of seasoned and wholesome and dependable -- just like a mother . '' Uncle Jesse was a very early riser . He seldom missed a sunrise . `` I 've seen all kinds of sunrises come in through that there Gate , '' he said dreamily one morning when I myself had made a heroic effort at early rising and joined him on the rocks halfway between his house and ours . `` I 've been all over the world and , take it all in all , I 've never seen a finer sight than a summer sunrise out there beyant the Gate . A man ca n't pick his time for dying , Mary -- jest got to go when the Captain gives his sailing orders . But if I could I 'd go out when the morning comes in there at the Gate . I 've watched it a many times and thought what a thing it would be to pass out through that great white glory to whatever was waiting beyant , on a sea that ai n't mapped out on any airthly chart . 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 XXXXX yours , Mary , only browner , for she was a shore girl .
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