The Life-Book of Uncle Jesse Page #4

"The Life-Book of Uncle Jesse" by Lucy Maud Montgomery is a heartwarming tale that explores the life and adventures of Uncle Jesse, a charming and whimsical character. Through a series of letters and anecdotes, the narrative captures his experiences, relationships, and the wisdom he imparts to his family and friends. Montgomery's signature style of rich, descriptive prose and insightful character development brings Uncle Jesse's world to life, inviting readers to reflect on themes of love, nostalgia, and the importance of storytelling in connecting generations. This endearing work showcases the author's ability to weave humor and poignancy into the fabric of everyday life.

• Short story

								

the spot and, besides, I wished to remain for Uncle Jesse's sake. He
was failing all the time, and after Robert went and the excitement of
the book-making was past, he failed still more rapidly. His tramping
expeditions were over and he seldom went out in his boat. Neither did
he talk a great deal. He liked to come over and sit silently for hours
at our seaward window, looking out wistfully toward the Gate with his
swiftly whitening head leaning on his hand. The only keen interest he
still had was in Robert's book. He waited and watched impatiently for
its publication.

"I want to live till I see it," he said, "just that long--then I'll be
ready to go. He said it would be out in the spring--I must hang on
till it comes, Mary."

There were times when I doubted sadly if he would "hang on." As the
winter wore away he grew frailer and frailer. But ever he looked
forward to the coming of spring and "the book," his book,
transformed and glorified.

One day in young April the book came at last. Uncle Jesse had gone to
the post office faithfully every day for a month, expecting it, but
this day he was too feeble to go and I went for him. The book was
there. It was called simply, The Life-Book of Jesse Boyd, and on the
title page the names of Robert Kennedy and Jesse Boyd were printed as
collaborators.

I shall never forget Uncle Jesse's face as I handed it to him. I came
away and left him reading it, oblivious to all else. All night the
light burned in his window, and I looked out across the sands to it
and pictured the delight of the old man poring over the printed pages
whereon his own life was portrayed. I wondered how he would like the
ending--the ending I had suggested. I was never to know.

After breakfast I went over to Uncle Jesse's house, taking some little
delicacy Mother had cooked for him. It was an exquisite morning, full
of delicate spring tints and sounds. The harbour was sparkling and
dimpling like a girl, the winds were playing hide and seek roguishly
among the stunted firs, and the silver-flashing gulls were soaring
over the bar. Beyond the Gate was a shining, wonderful sea.

When I reached the little house on the point I saw the lamp still
burning wanly in the window. A quick alarm struck at my heart. Without
waiting to knock, I lifted the latch, and entered.

Uncle Jesse was lying on the old sofa by the window, with the book
clasped to his heart. His eyes were closed and on his face was a look
of the most perfect peace and happiness--the look of one who has long
sought and found at last.

We could not know at what hour he had died, but somehow I think he had
his wish and went out when the morning came in through the Golden
Gate. Out on that shining tide his spirit drifted, over the sunrise
sea of pearl and silver, to the haven where lost Margaret waited
beyond the storms and calms.
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