"It got wuss araound Civil War time, _when children born senct 'forty-six begun to grow up_--some of 'em, that is. I was afeard--never did no pryin' arter that awful night, an' never see one o'--_them_--clost to in all my life. That is, never no full-blooded one. Barnabas Marsh that runs the refin'ry naow is Obed's grandson by his fust wife--son of Onesiphorus, his eldest son, _but his mother was another o' them as wa'n't never seed aoutdoors_. "Right naow Barnabas is abaout changed. Can't shet his eyes no more, an' is all aout o' shape. They say he still wears clothes, but he'll take to the water soon." ... The sound of the incoming tide was now very insistent, and little by little it seemed to change the old man's mood from maudlin tearfulness to watchful fear. He would pause now and then to renew those nervous glances over his shoulder or out toward the reef, and despite the wild absurdity of his tale, I could not help beginning to share his vague apprehensiveness. Zadok now grew shriller, and seemed to be trying to whip up his courage with louder speech. "Hey, yew, why dun't ye say somethin'? Haow'd ye like to be livin' in a taown like this, with everything a-rottin' an' a-dyin', an' boarded-up monsters crawlin' an' bleatin' an' barkin' an' hoppin' araoun' black cellars an' attics every way ye turn? Hey? Wal, Sir, _let me tell ye that aint the wust_!" Zadok was really screaming now, and the mad frenzy of his voice disturbed me more than I care to own. "Curse ye, dun't set thar a-starin' at me with them eyes--I tell Obed Marsh he's in hell, an' hez got to stay thar! Heh, heh ... in hell, I says! Can't git me--I hain't done nothin' nor told nobody nothin'-- "Oh, you, young feller? Wal, even ef I hain't told nobody nothin' yet, I'm a-goin' to naow! Yew jest set still an' listen to me, boy--this is what I ain't never told nobody.... I says I didn't get to do no pryin' arter that night--_but I found things aout jest the same_! "Yew want to know what the reel horror is, hey? Wal, it's this--it ain't what them fish devils _hez done, but what they're a-goin' to do_! They're a-bringin' things up aout o' whar they come from into the taown--ben doin' it fer years, an' slackenin' up lately. Them haouses north o' the river betwixt Water an' Main Streets is full of 'em--them devils _an' what they brung_--an' when they git ready ... I say, _when they git ready_ ... ever hear tell of a _shoggoth_?.... "Hey, d'ye hear me? I tell ye I _know what them things be--I seen 'em one night when_.... EH-AHHHH--AH! E'YAAHHHH...." The hideous suddenness and inhuman frightfulness of the old man's shriek almost made me faint. His eyes, looking past me toward the malodorous sea, were positively starting from his head; while his face was a mask of fear worthy of Greek tragedy. His bony claw dug monstrously into my shoulder, and he made no motion as I turned my head to look at whatever he had glimpsed.