![]() ![]() There was once a road over the hills and through the valleys, that ran straight where the blasted heath is now but people ceased to use it and a new road was laid curving far toward the south. ![]() Ammi, whose head has been a little queer for years, is the only one who still remains, or who ever talks of the strange days and he dares to do this because his house is so near the open fields and the travelled roads around Arkham. It must be this which keeps the foreigners away, for old Ammi Pierce has never told them of anything he recalls from the strange days. The place is not good for imagination, and does not bring restful dreams at night. It is not because of anything that can be seen or heard or handled, but because of something that is imagined. French-Canadians have tried it, Italians have tried it, and the Poles have come and departed. The old folk have gone away, and foreigners do not like to live there. On the gentler slopes there are farms, ancient and rocky, with squat, moss-coated cottages brooding eternally over old New England secrets in the lee of great ledges but these are all vacant now, the wide chimneys crumbling and the shingled sides bulging perilously beneath low gambrel roofs. There are dark narrow glens where the trees slope fantastically, and where thin brooklets trickle without ever having caught the glint of sunlight. You will not regret having read this marvellous tale.Įst of Arkham the hills rise wild, and there are valleys with deep woods that no axe has ever cut. The theme is original, and yet fantastic enough to make it rise head and shoulders above many contemporary scientifiction stories. We could wax rhapsodical in our praise, as the story is one of the finest pieces of literature it has been our good fortune to read. H ere is a totally different story that we can highly recommend to you. ![]()
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