Page:Folk-lore - A Quarterly Review. Volume 2, 1891.djvu/167

Rh an' loathin' for tha Things aboot un, a stroogled on t'ords tha flick'rin' loights 'at looked loike he'p an' sa'afety.

"Thou yonder," a'd shriek, "Thou!— a'm catched i' tha bog-lan's!—dost hear?— God an' Mary save 's fro' the Horrors—he'p, thou yonder!" An' then a'd stop an' sob an' moan an' ca' on a' tha saints an' wise women an' God 'issel to fetch un oot.

An' than 'a 'd break oot in a shriek age'an, as tha slimy slithery things crawled round un, till a couldna even see the fause lights afwore un. An' than, 's if 'tworna bad aneugh a'ready, the horrors 'd tak a' sorts o' shapes; an' rampin' lasses 'd keek at un wi' bright eyen, an' stretch oot soft he'pin' han's; but when a'd try to catch hoi' on un, a'd cha'ange in 's grip to slimy things an' shapeless worms, an' tha wicked voices 'd mock un wi' foul glee. An a' tha evil thoughts an' deeds o's life cam' an' whispet in 's ears, an' da'anced aboot an' shooted oot tha secret things o's ain heart, till a shrieked an' sobbed wi' pain an' shame, an' the Horrors crawled an' gibbered roon' aboot an' mocked un. An' when tha poor Moon saw 'at he wor coomin' nigher an' nigher to the deep holes an' tha deadly quicks, an' furder 'n furder fro' the pad, a wor so mad an' so sorry, 'at she stroogled an' fowt an' pulled, harder nor iver. An' thoff a couldna get loose, wi' a' her twistin' an' toogin', the black hood fell ba'ack off 'a shoinin' yaller hair, an' tha beautiful light as coomed fro't druv away tha darkness.

Ooh! but tha man grat wi' joy to see God's ain light age'an; an' towanst tha evil things fled ba'ack into tha da'ark corners; fur tha canna boide tha light. So tha left un, an' fled; an' a could see whur a wor, and whur tha pad wor, an' hoo a'd hev to gaw fur to get oot o' tha ma'ash. An' a wor in sich a ha-aste to get awa-ay fro' tha quicks an' tha boglan's, an' tha things 'at doolt thur, 'at a sca'arce lookit at tha bra'ave light 'at coomed fro' tha beautiful shinin' yaller hair streamin' oot o'er the black cloak, an' fallin' to the watter at's feet. An' tha Moon's sel wor so tuk oop wi' sa'avin' he, an' wi' rejoicin' 'at a wor ba'ack on