But I ca n't . It 's in this poor human critter , '' Uncle Jesse patted his breast sorrowfully , `` but he ca n't get it out . '' When Uncle Jesse went home that evening Mother asked him to come often to see us . `` I wonder if you 'd give that invitation if you knew how likely I 'd be to accept it , '' he remarked whimsically . `` Which is another way of saying you wonder if I meant it , '' smiled Mother . `` I do , most heartily and sincerely . '' `` Then I 'll come . You 'll likely be pestered with me at any hour . And I 'd be proud to have you drop over to visit me now and then too . I live on that point yander . Neither me nor my house is worth coming to see . It 's only got one room and a loft and a stovepipe sticking out of the roof for a chimney . But I 've got a few little things lying around that I picked up in the queer corners I used to be poking my nose into . Mebbe they 'd interest you . '' Uncle Jesse 's `` few little things '' turned out to be the most interesting collection of curios I had ever seen . His one neat little living room was full of them -- beautiful , hideous or quaint as the case might be , and almost all having some weird or exciting story attached . Mother and I had a beautiful summer at Golden Gate . We lived the life of two children with Uncle Jesse as a playmate . Our housekeeping was of the simplest description and we spent our hours rambling along the shores , reading on the rocks or sailing over the harbour in Uncle Jesse 's trim little boat . Every day we loved the simple-souled , true , manly old sailor more and more .
He was as refreshing as a sea breeze , XXXXX interesting as some ancient chronicle .
along as if in of on over that to with