There, in the passing floodlight, a shadow rising in the fog. Hold, the lighthouse is coming round again. See! that’s her. You’ll be joining her crew, I reckon. Like I said for your article, when the winter fogs roll in—and we didn’t have to offer up one of our own this year; you were so good to come and see about our legend. Well, you’ll learn more than I can tell you when the tide rolls out. Sorry you won’t get to publish—but come to think of it, here’s a bottle, some paper, a pencil, and a cork.
Going Out With the Tide
Tale Told 