The Shadow over Innsmouth / Морок над Инсмутом

“Poor Matt – Matt he allus was agin’ it – tried to line up the folks on his side, an’ had long talks with the preachers – no use – they run the Congregational parson aout o’ taown, an’ the Methodist feller quit – never did see Resolved Babcock, the Baptist parson, agin – Wrath o’ Jehovy – I was a mighty little critter, but I heerd what I heerd an’ seen what I seen – Dagon an’ Ashtoreth – Belial an’ Beëlzebub – Golden Caff an’ the idols o’ Canaan an’ the Philistines – Babylonish abominations – Mene, mene, tekel, upharsin-”

He stopped again, and from the look in his watery blue eyes I feared he was close to a stupor after all.

“Dun’t believe me, hey? Heh, heh, heh – then jest tell me, young feller, why Cap’n Obed an’ twenty odd other folks used to row aout to Devil Reef in the dead o’ night an’ chant things so laoud ye cud hear ’em all over taown when the wind was right? Tell me that, hey? An’ tell me why Obed was allus droppin’ heavy things daown into the deep water t’other side o’ the reef whar the bottom shoots daown like a cliff lower’n ye kin saound? Tell me what he done with that funny-shaped lead thingumajig as Walakea give him? Hey, boy? An’ what did they all haowl on May-Eve, an’ agin the next Hallowe’en? An’ why’d the new church parsons – fellers as used to be sailors – wear them queer robes an’ cover theirselves with them gold-like things Obed brung? Hey?”

The watery blue eyes were almost savage and maniacal now, and the dirty white beard bristled electrically.

“Heh, heh, heh, heh! Beginnin’ to see, hey? Mebbe ye’d like to a ben me in them days, when I seed things at night aout to sea from the cupalo top o’ my haouse.