table-book in the house

'' i opened the door at the left, and crossed into a small low-cieled chamber ... it appeared to be a kind of sitting room, for it had a table and several chairs ... what interested me was the uniform air of archaism as dispayed in every visible detail ...

'' most of the houses in this region i had found rich in relics of the past, but here the antiquity was curiously complete; for in all the room i could not discover a single article of definitely post revolutionary date. had the furnishings been less humble the place would of been a collectors paradise ...

'' as i surveyed this quaint apartment i felt an increase in that aversion first excited by the bleak exterior of the house ... i felt disinclined to sit down, and wandered about examining the various articles which i had noticed. the first object of my curiosity was a book of medium size ... it was bound in leather with metal fittings ...

'' when i opened it to the title page my wonder grew even greater, ... i had often heard of this work with its curious illustrations by the brothers de bry, hence for a moment forgot my uneasiness in my desire to turn the pages before me. ... nor would i soon have closed the book had not an exceedingly trivial circumstance upset my tired nerves and revived my sensation of disquiet ... the volume tended to fall open of itself at plate xii, ... i experienced some shame at my suseptibility to so slight a thing, but the drawing nevertheless disturbed me.'' h.p.lovecraft, the picture in the house.

pleasure in horror

'' searchers after horror haunt strange, far places. for them are the catacombs of ptolemais, ... the scattered stones of forgotten cities in asia ... and they linger around the sinister monoliths on uninhabited islands ...



'' but the true epicure in the terrible ... esteems most of all the ancient, lonely farmhouses of backwoods new england. most horrible of all sights are the little unpainted wooden houses remote from travelled ways, ... two hundred years and more they have leaned or squatted there, ...

'' they are almost hidden now in lawless luxuriances of green and guardian shrouds of shadow; but the small-paned windows still stare ... silent, sleepy, staring houses ... sometimes one feels it would be merciful to tear down these houses, for they must dream often. ''

h.p.lovecraft, the picture in the house.

i: scattered stones of forgotten estates of the hudson valley.