Cloven Hoof (Samhain, 1919, vol. iii, no. 1)

A letter from the Editor:

To the experienced peruser of these esteemed pages, you will already know that I have made detailed studies of the arcane geometries of both London, England and Washington, D.C.; both the seats of power of two nations sharing a common heritage and spiritual fraternity. To those neophytes as yet unversed in my researches, I shall let it suffice that you may fully educate yourselves upon these discourses in archived editions of the Cloven Hoof. I call these past researches to mind as recent events have persuaded me that it might be of interest to undertake such a study of the great commercial metropolis of New York City. Before you send in enquiries of assistance and your own hypothesis to be considered, I implore you to read through this account in its entirety before committing yourself to any future endeavours.

It was a pleasant autumn morning, the chill in the air had been burnt off by the sun, and I easily meandered through Manhattan to finally emerge upon the doorstep of my great-aunt Matilda. I held the dubious distinction of being her escort for the morning’s offerings of her amateur dramatic society, a station which was to provide me the unparalleled opportunity to witness first-hand one of the most bizarre manifestations of the Invisible World.

I let myself in unannounced, the bond of family being such that the usual circumstances incumbent upon me as a visitor had long been forgotten as I spent the better part of my youth as a resident of this deceptively humble dwelling. Making my way down the well-appointed corridor, I wondered at the faint whispering issuing from under the door to the library instead of the withdrawing room where my great-aunt was accustomed to waiting for her familial escorts. Curiosity got the better of me and I opened the door.
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