• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Frontispiece
 Title Page
 List of Illustrations
 Rip Van Winkle
 The legend of Sleepy Hollow
 Back Matter
 Back Cover
 Spine






Group Title: Rip Van Winkle : and, The legend of Sleepy Hollow
Title: Rip Van Winkle
CITATION THUMBNAILS PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00081991/00001
 Material Information
Title: Rip Van Winkle and, The legend of Sleepy Hollow
Alternate Title: Legend of Sleepy Hollow
Physical Description: xi, 218 p. : ill. ; 19 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Irving, Washington, 1783-1859
Boughton, George Henry, 1834-1905 ( Illustrator )
Macmillan & Co ( Publisher )
Richard Clay and Sons ( Printer )
Publisher: Macmillan and Co.
Place of Publication: London ;
New York
Manufacturer: Richard Clay and Sons
Publication Date: 1893
 Subjects
Subject: Van Winkle, Rip (Fictitious character) -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Laziness -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Drinking of alcoholic beverages -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Scolds -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Bowling -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Dreams -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Magic -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Ghosts -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Practical jokes -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Death -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Courtship -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Bridegrooms -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Cowardice -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Jealousy -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Avarice -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1893   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1893
Genre: Children's stories
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
United States -- New York -- New York
England -- Bungay
 Notes
Statement of Responsibility: by Washington Irving ; with fifty-three illustrations by George H. Boughton.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00081991
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002232058
notis - ALH2447
oclc - 01978943

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Page i
        Page ii
    Front Matter
        Page iii
    Frontispiece
        Page iv
    Title Page
        Page v
        Page vi
    List of Illustrations
        Page vii
        Page viii
        Page ix
        Page x
        Page xi
    Rip Van Winkle
        Page 1
        Page 2
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    The legend of Sleepy Hollow
        Page 99
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    Back Matter
        Back Matter 1
        Back Matter 2
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
Full Text












































The Baldwin Library
m Un'iversity

































































" Whenever he was surrounded by a troof of








RIP VAN WINKLE

AND

THE LEGEND

OF


SLEEPY HOLLOW

BY
WASHINGTON IRVING


WITH FIFTY-THREE ILLUSTRATIONS
BY
GEORGE H. BOUGHTON, A.R.A.





Lonlbon
MACMILLAN AND CO.
AND NEW YORK
1893











































RICHARD CLAY AND SONS, LIMITED,
LONDON AND BUNGAY.




























RIP VAN WINKLE


PAGE
"Whenever he went dodging about the village, he was
surrounded by a troop of children" Frontispiece
Heading to List of Illustrations . . vii
Vignette in Half-title .... . . I
" And he fell into a deep sleep .. . .. 2
Heading to Preface . . ........ 3
Tailpiece to Preface.. ........ . 13
"By Woden, God of Saxons" .. .. . 14
" The following tale was found among the papers of the
late Diedrich Knickerbocker" . . 17
"Whoever has made a voyage up the Hudson, must
remember the Kaatskill mountains .. .. 21
"lHe was moreover, a kind neighbour, and an obedient
henpecked husband" ......... . 24
" A simple good-natured fellow, of the name of Rip Van
Winkle" ... ............ . 25










viii GENERAL LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE
" For he would sit on a wet rock, with a rod as long and
heavy as a Tartar's lance, and fish all day without a
murmur" ..... ............... .28
" A termagant wife may therefore, in some respects, be
considered a tolerable blessing; and if so, Rip Van
Winkle was thriced blessed" ... ..... .. 29
" He would never refuse to assist a neighbour even in the
roughest toil" ................. .33
He would carry a fowling-piece on his shoulder for hours
together" . . . . 37
"From even this stronghold the unlucky Rip was at
length routed by his termagant wife" ....... 41
"Here he would sometimes seat himself at the foot of
a tree, and share the contents of his wallet with
Wolf" ............ .... ...... 45
"Panting and fatigued, he threw himself, late in the
afternoon, on a green knoll, covered with mountain
herbage, that crowned the brow of a precipice" 49
A strange figure slowly toiling up the rocks, and bend-
ing under the weight of something he carried on his
back" ..... ....... ..... 53
"Rip complied with his usual alacrity, and mutually
relieving each other, they clambered up a narrow
gully" . .. . . . 57
"The noise of the balls, which, whenever they were
rolled, echoed along the mountains like rumbling
peals of thunder" . . . .... 59
He was naturally a thirsty soul, and was soon tempted to
repeat the draught" . . . 61
"He looked round for his gun, but in place of the clean
well-oiled fowling-piece, he found an old firelock
lying by him, the barrel encrusted with rust" . 65









GENERAL LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS ix

PAGE
"These mountain beds do not agree with me," thought
Rip, "and if this frolic should lay me up with a fit
of the rheumatism, I shall have a blessed time with
Dame Van Winkle . . ... 69
"As he approached the village he met a number of people,
but none whom he knew, which somewhat surprised
him, for he had thought himself acquainted with
every one in the country round" . .. 73
"He found the house gone to decay-the roof fallen in 77
" And preferred making friends among the rising genera-
tion, with whom he soon grew into great favour" 91
"They never hear a thunder storm of a summer afternoon,
about the Kaatskill, but they say Hendrich Hudson
and his crew are at their game of nine-pins 95






THE

LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW


PAGE
Vignette in Half-title . .. ... ...... 99
"Reciting for their amusement all the epitaphs on the
tombstones" . . Frontispiece
Heading to Preface . . . ..... o
Heading .......... ... ... ... 105
"This name was given, we are told, in former days, by
the good housewives of the adjacent country, from
the inveterate propensity of their husbands to linger
about the village tavern on market days" ...... 107










x GENERAL LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE
"The whole neighbourhood abounds with local tales,
haunted spots, and twilight superstitions ; stars shoot
and meteors glare oftener across the valley than in any
other part of the country; and the nightmare, with
her whole nine fold, seems to make it the favourite
scene of her gambols" . . . I.
" His haunts are not confined to the valley, but extend at
times to the adjacent roads" . . .. I
"Ichabod Crane" ................ 115
" His school-house was a low building of one large room,
rudely constructed of logs" . . 19
" Spare the rod and spoil the child" ... ..... 123
"Who happened to have pretty sisters .... .127
"He was the singing-master of the neighbourhood, and
picked up many bright shillings by instructing the
young folks in psalmody" . ... ..... 131
" Sauntering with a whole bevy of them along the banks
of the adjacent mill-pond" . . 135
" What fearful shapes and shadows beset his path amidst
the dim and ghastly glare of a snowy night .... 139
"Katrina Van Tassel" .... . ..... .143
" Old Baltus Van Tassel was a perfect picture of a thriving,
contented, liberal-hearted farmer" . ... 147
" At the foot of which bubbled up a spring of the softest
and sweetest water, in a little well, formedof a barrel" 15I
"And his only study was how to gain the affections of the
peerless daughter of Van Tassel" ..... .157
"Brom Van Brunt . . . .. 161
"The lady of his heart was his partner in the dance, and
smiled graciously in reply to all his amorous oglings;
while Brom Bones, sorely smitten with love and
jealousy, sat brooding by himself in one corner" .. 185










GENERAL LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS xi

PAGE
" The head that should have rested on his shoulders .. 195
"His terror rose to desperation; he rained a shower of
kicks and blows upon Gunpowder, hoping, by a
sudden movement, to give his companion the slip 205
Tailpiece .... ......... . 215
Heading to Postscript ..... . .. 216
Tailpiece to Postscript . . 218


















RIP VAN WINKLE


A POSTHUMOUS WRITING FROM DIEDRICH
KNICKERBOCKER





































































" AnId lfe/ into a deo sleet."'"P. 63.

























To me, a whilom wanderer and sketcher along
and about the banks and shores and hills, and
a drifter over the wide waters of the Hudson
River, there was always a something in the very
air and nature of the places that seemed to film
over the landscape with a hazy atmosphere of
romance.
The distant lines of the Kaatskill Mountains
seemed as rhythmic as a hymn to the Eternal.
In those days it was not any ordinary mountain
range in our eyes-there were many higher and
more pretentious-but these blue hills were to us
the kome of the elves, and the fays, and even the
goblins. I well remember the stress I went to to
B 2








PREFACE


get The Sketch Book" of Washington Irving,
which meant to me a book of sketches-or a book
to draw in-and my dismay to find it merely a
book of short stories; and the possession they took
of me when I read them; and the bewitchment
of my sketching companion when he too had
read them; and our going off not once but many
times to explore and sketch -the then enchanted
hills that were almost in sight of our own
windows. It was not so very long ago, but long
enough I fear to have suffered the raw winds of
the late tempests of realism to blow away much
of what it would now scream at as the very fogs
and mists of the ideal. The fact hunter has been
over the enchanted ground with his hissing search-
light. The up-to-dateist has brought his most
cunning Kodak and "gone for" tie haunts of the
elves and fairies. Every scrap of airy romance
will be damped and dragged over the slide of
Prof Hardfact's microscope. And, saddest thing
of all, there is a depressed little band ofpainters
of the Unlovely who have no words but of scorn
and pity for what they unmeaningly call "The
Hudson River School," forgetting that the Hudson
River has inspired some of the noblest landscapes
and the most purely American that the country has








PREFACE


overproduced. Let us hope, however, that the spirits
of the romance-haunted hills will be too subtle and
evasive for any yet invented machine of the chill
realist. They will laugh at the futile efforts of
those serious creatures whose eyes have been so
dimmed with over-straining their narrow vision
that they let the elves play inside their instruments
while they poke about in the shadowy hills with
their electric bulls' eyes."
When the Sketch Book" (containing "Rip Van
Winkle," and The Legend of Sleepy Hollow")
was given to the world, the Kaatskills were very
little known-especially the parts wherein the first
story is laid-to what might be now termed the
summer visitor." A very few in search of quiet
and the pure mountain air managed to climb to
the simple little inns and farmhouses in the
higher regions, and in order to get there a creak-
ing old stage coach managed to devote as many
hours as the new cogwheel railway will do the
distance in minutes-almost while the nervous
passengers are holding their breath in fear and
trembling. I do well remember a certain fearsome
vehicle-part coach, part waggonette, part omni-
bus-that creaked its slow way with us up the
winding mountain road, every moment threatening








PREFACE


its disintegration, but it was picturesque, and of its
race as racy as it dared. The regions to which it
took us still bore many interesting reminders of the
somewhat mixed nationalities of the early settlers
of the mountains. Dutch and English and Indian
names of people and things and places intermingled
in a most-sociable and picturesque, but somewhat
bewildering confusion. Whatever wars and dis-
putes there may have been, they had managed to
come together into a delightful conglomerate.
The Indian-named streamlet would flow into a
Dutch-named ravine, and the little river would
take a Dutch baptism before it gurgled under
the English-looking bridge, and past the very
English-named village of Leeds, on past the
Dutchest of villages, Kaatskill, and Kaatskill
Landing. There is some want of unanimity
about this latter name, not about the kill"-as it
is the common Dutch termination for all the
streams that empty into the Hudson River-but on
very old maps it is Kats, in Irving's time it
became Kaats, or Kaateri and now it is always
Catskill.
The Leeds folk claim that their very village was
the home of the real and veritable Rip," and show
various tumble-down tenements in some places, and








PREFACE


the remains of weed-covered foundations in other
places, to prove their assertions. Naturally, the
Dutch villagers of Catskill scout this claim, and
hurl charges of the usual sort against England's
greed ofpossession." However, there was nothing
like mortal bloodshed over the dispute as far as I
could gather at the time. The Dutch took their
revenge in every sort of trade except horseflesh-
and in that they swore roundly that the English
and Yankees more than turned the fortunes of
war against them.
The old stone bridge at Leeds-of which I give
the faint reproduction of a boyish sketch-looked
as if it might have been bodily stolen from some
ancient English village. It is probably the most
archaic thing of its kind in that part of America,
and in fact it is quite venerable and uncanny
enough to have made a good third with the Twa
Brigs" at Ayr, immortalised by Robert Burns.
Indeed it has about it much of the witch-ridden
suggestiveness of that other haunted bridge over
which that hailfellow" of Rip's, Tam-o-Shanter,
ended his wild ride pursued by Cutty Sark"
and her weird sisters.
There is certain scenery of which one can easily
believe any tale of crime or devilry, fairy lore








PREFACE


or romance, that local tradition or invention cares
to invest it with, and to all such places will some
day come the poetic soul with insight and sympathy.
The fays and elves have been watching for him
and have led his footsteps to their revel grounds
and have told their secrets and sung their songs
to him. The spirits of this region must have met
Washington Irving more than half way, and
the rest was like play to him. How real and living
are all the people of his fancy Compare them
with the lay figures which he conjured up in the
sad hours of his later years in the dusty libraries
of Spain-when he tried to be a writer of serious
history (" The Life of Columbus," &c.) These opaque
realities are but "things of shreds and patches"
beside the undying creations he made to live and
breathe from the shadowy films of fancy caught in
his own romance-haunted regions.
Of all the author's work-serious and humorous
(the fact is, most of his work was such a happy
mixture of the two elements that it puzzled
his more serious readers to tell where the blend
came in)--"Rip Van Winkle" took the most
immediate and lasting grip of his public.
The "Sketch Book" was written (except two
of the sketches) during the author's sojourn in








PREFACE


England-and after having been offered' to a
publisher and declined, the MS. was sent to his
brother in America, and in 1819, the book appeared
simultaneously in New York, Boston, Philadelphia,
and Baltimore. The success was so immediate
and widespread that the fame of it induced the
Murrays to soon publish an English edition.
This was almost immediately followed by other
European editions. I have one of the Paris
editions before me, published by Galzgnani, with
the autograph of Theresa Giuccioli G" (Did
Lord Byron give it to her ?) on the title-page.
A very palpable instance of the story's popularity
in its author's lifetime took the form of the largest
and most imposing of the Hudson River passenger
steamers. Nothing had ever been seen so vast
and palatial, and along its great dome of a paddle-
box might be read-miles away-the name of
"Rip Van Winkle."
This was fame indeed, and the name of The
Knickerbocker" for the sister boat of equal gor-
geousness, came as further recognition and tribute
to the author's character and greatness. To do
honour to the author himself they re-named the
village near his home on the Hudson "Irvington."
And other honours-more than his modest nature








PREFACE


could accept-were offered him in abundance.
Indeed the story of his quiet, successful after life
is one touched with his own sunshine and poetry.
Living within daily sight of these great steamers,
one wonders if he did not often, in fancy, see the
spirit of the departed Rip now and again rejoin-
ing the shady crew of nine-pin playing, hollands-
tippling, spooks," whom he knew but too well,-
and the party may have looked down on the
gliding palace with its thousand lights winding
along the broad Hudson beneath them. And
in the scarcely concealed bewilderment of the
wild buccaneering crew at this flaring advertise-
ment of the simple creature whom they fuddled
with their ghostly liquor and left in forgetful-
ness to sleep it off perhaps they may have
asked him in amazement, mingled with ghostly
envy, what on earth he had done to deserve all
this, and no doubt the delightful but still dazed
reprobate can only reply that he merely slept in
peace and quiet while the rest of mankind on the
American continent were warring and battling,
flying hither and thither, consuming themselves in
cyclones of nervous energy. He perhaps of all
others was the only perfectly quiet and happy soul,
left with nothing to go on with but a breath of








PREFACE


suspended animation. Are these spooks of the
departed buccaneers so envious of Rip's success in
snatching deathless fame in a fuddled sleep that
they have never since then been tempted to show
any like attention to any other wandering scape-
grace with a gun and a taste for even ghostly
hollands ?
Perhaps, for though there may have been the
likely scapegrace, with the more than likely thirst,
this charming history has never, even in this age
of plagiarism repeated itself. Perhaps the succeed-
ing Rips have not had the great redeeming charms
of the original-his love of and sympathy with
children. Nothing can be more exquisite than
the delicate and tender touch with which his
loving historian adorns and brightens his other-
wise rather casual character. Lazy and dreamy
as he was, he was ever wakeful and alert enough
tojoin them and help them in all their children's
games. He would show the truant school urchin
how to put on the wriggling worm or grasshopper
so that it would never fail to entice the wariest of
perch or gudgeon. Indeed I believe it is that
side of his character that has enticed me to
imagine more incidents of his urchin sympathy
than his author has put down to him. But to any








PREFACE


one disposed to blame me on this account I may urge
that Ihave not sketched half the scenes that crowded
in upon me almost clamouring to be drawn.
One can easily forgive the little frailties of
poor Rip for the many kindly, even precious
qualities of his very defects. le might be
regarded less of a casual, careless, irresponsible,
idler, than a dreamy protest against the stress and
drive, the feverish energy, and over excitement
in the wild race against time, for wealth and
power and place in the quickly growing com-
munities about him.
After all-it was no crime if he saw more good
in life to Loafe and invite his soul" as Walt
Whitman sings. He may have seen a more lovely
blue in the heavens reflected in the quiet pools as
he fished away the hours, with some entranced
urchin looking on. The kites and soap-bubbles
that he taught them to send skywards may have
carried some lesson unseen by his scolding wife.
The very games he taught the children to play
made them merrier and better, and stronger to
bear the avenging birch of the schoolmaster.
And as he slept away the long years, Old
Time was good enough to pass him by, forgetting
and forgiving. The horrors of war had passed








PREFACE


over- the land and spared him its sorrows and
penalties. He had the consolation for many
meanwhile losses to awake to the New Order"
that brought among other blessings-Freedom and
Peace.
GEO. H. BOUGHTON.


Old stone bridge at Leeds in the Catskill Mounlains.


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RIP VAN WINKLE


A POSTHUMOUS WRITING OF DIEDRICH KNICKERBOCKER

By Woden, God of Saxons,
From whence comes Wensday, that is Wodensday,
Truth is a thing that ever I will keep
Unto thylke day in which I creep into
My sepulchre----"
CARTWRIGHT.

[The following tale was found among the papers of
the late Diedrich Knickerbocker, an old gentleman of
New York, who was very curious in the Dutch history
of the province, and the manners of the descendants from
its primitive settlers. His historical researches, however,
did not lie so much among books, as among men ; for
the former are lamentably scanty on his favourite topics ;
whereas he found the old burghers, and still more their
wives, rich in that legendary lore so invaluable to true
history. Whenever, therefore, he happened upon a
genuine Dutch family, snugly shut up in its low-roofed








RIP VAN WINKLE


farm-house, under a spreading sycamore, he looked upon
it as a little clasped volume of black-letter, and studied
it with the zeal of a book-worm.
The result of all these researches was a history of the
province, during the reign of the Dutch governors, which
he published some years since. There have been various
opinions as to the literary character of his work, and, to
tell the truth, it is not a whit better than it should be.
Its chief merit is its scrupulous accuracy, which indeed
was a little questioned, on its first appearance, but has
since been completely established; and it is now admitted
into all historical collections, as a book of unquestionable
authority.
The old gentleman died shortly after the publication
of his work, and now that he is dead and gone, it cannot
do much harm to his memory to say, that his time
might have been much better employed in weightier
labours. He, however, was apt to ride his hobby his own
way; and though it did now and then kick up the dust
a little in the eyes of its neighbours, and grieve the spirit
of some friends, for whom he felt the truest deference
and affection; yet his errors and follies are remembered
"more in sorrow than in anger," and it begins to be
suspected, that he never intended to injure or offend.
But however his memory may be appreciated by critics,
it is still held dear among many folk, whose good
opinion is well worth having; particularly certain biscuit
bakers, who have gone so far as to imprint his likeness on






































































T. i j r the Pafeies of the late Diedriclt
-P. 15.
Cofiyrighl 1893 by Afacmillan & Co.







RIP VAN WINKLE


their new year's cakes, and have thus given him a chance
for immortality, almost equal to the being stamped on a
Waterloo Medal, or a Queen Anne's farthing.]

WHOEVER has made a voyage up the
Hudson, must remember the Kaatskill
mountains. They are a dismembered branch
of the great Appalachian family, and are seen
away to the west of the river, swelling up to
a noble height, and lording it over the sur-
rounding country. Every change of season,
every change of weather, indeed every hour
of the day, produces some change in the
magical hues and shapes of these mountains,
and they are regarded by all the good wives,
far and near, as perfect barometers. When
the weather is fair and settled, they are
clothed in blue and purple, and print their
bold outlines on the clear evening sky; but
sometimes, when the rest of the landscape is
cloudless, they will gather a hood of gray







RIP VAN WINKLE


vapours about their summits, which, in the
last rays of the setting sun, will glow and
light up like a crown of glory.
At the foot of these fairy mountains, the
voyager may have described the light smoke
curling up from a-village, whose shingle roofs
gleam among the trees, just where the blue
tints of the upland melt away into the fresh
green of the nearer landscape. It is a little
village of great antiquity, having been
founded by some of the Dutch colonists, in
the early times of the province, just about
the beginning of the government of the
good Peter Stuyvesant (may he rest in
peace !), and there were some of the houses
of the original settlers standing within a few
years, built of small yellow bricks brought
from Holland, having latticed windows and
gable fronts, surmounted with weathercocks.
In that same village, and in one of these
































Whoever as made a voyage u the Hudsn, must reemer th Kaat l monains-P. 1.

" Whoever has made a voyage u: tire Hudson, must reunuber tlte Kaatskill maonrains."--P. 19.


I







RIP VAN WINKLE


very houses (which, to tell the precise truth,
was sadly time-worn and weather-beaten),
there lived many years since, while the
country was yet a province of Great Britain,
a simple good-natured fellow, of the name of
Rip Van Winkle. He was a descendant of
the Van Winkles who figured so gallantly in
the chivalrous days of Peter Stuyvesant, and
accompanied him to the siege of Fort
Christina. He inherited, however, but little
of the martial character of his ancestors.
I have observed that he was a simple, good-
natured man; he was moreover, a kind
neighbour, and an obedient henpecked hus-
band. Indeed, to the latter circumstance
might be owing that meekness of spirit which
gained him such universal popularity; for
those men are most apt to be obsequious and
conciliating abroad, who are under the dis-
cipline of shrews at home. Their tempers,







RIP VAN WINKLE


doubtless, are reridered pliant and malleable
in the fiery furnace of domestic tribulation,
and a curtain lecture is worth all the sermons
in the world for teaching the virtues of


"He was moreover, a kind neighbour, and an obedient, henpecked husband.-P. 23.


patience and long-suffering. A termagant
wife may therefore, in some respects, be
considered a tolerable blessing; and if so,
Rip Van Winkle was thrice blessed.
Certain it is, that he was a great favourite




























































I ------ -









"A sinAile goodflaturedfoilow, of the name of Rq5 Van Winkle.o" -P, 3.
Cly,'ighlt 1893 by Macmillan & Co.







RIP VAN WINKLE


among all the good wives of the village, who,
as usual with the amiable sex, took his part
in all family squabbles; and never failed,
whenever they talked those matters over in
their evening gossipings, to lay all the
blame on Dame Van Winkle. The children
of the village, too, would shout with joy
whenever he approached. He assisted at
their sports, made their playthings, taught
them to fly kites and shoot marbles, and told
them long stories of ghosts, witches, and
Indians. Whenever he went dodging about
the village, he was surrounded by a troop of
them, hanging on his skirts, clambering on
his back, and playing a thousand tricks on
him with impunity; and not a dog would
bark at him throughout the neighbourhood.
The great error in Rip's composition was
an insuperable aversion to all kinds of pro-
fitable labour. It could not be from the








RIP VAN WINKLE


want of assiduity or perseverance; for he
would sit on a wet rock, with a rod as long
and heavy as a Tartar's lance, and fish all


"For he would sit on a .' heavy as a Tartar's lance,
and . .. -P. 28.


day without a murmur, even though he
should not be encouraged by a single nibble.
He would carry a fowling-piece on his
shoulder, for hours together, trudging






IS*- -


" il


"A termagant wife may therefore, red a tolerable blessing; and if so,
Rip Van ........ ..... "-P. 24.


I"~ `'
-i
; I
r







RIP VAN WINKLE


through woods and swamps, and up hill and
down dale, to shoot a few squirrels or wild
pigeons. He would never refuse to assist a
neighbour even in the roughest toil, and was
a foremost man at all country frolics for
husking Indian corn, or building stone
fences; the women of the village, too, used
to employ him to run their errands, and to
do such little odd jobs as their less obliging
husbands would not do for them.-In a
word, Rip was ready to attend to anybody's
business but his own; but as to doing family
duty, and keeping his farm in order, he
found it impossible.
In fact, he declared it was of no use to
work on his farm; it was the most pestilent
little piece of ground in the whole country;
everything about it went wrong, and would
go wrong, in spite of him. His fences were
continually falling to pieces; his cow would







RIP VAN WINKLE


either go astray, or get among the cabbages;
weeds were sure to grow quicker in his fields
than anywhere else; the rain always made a
point of setting in just as he had some out-
door work to do; so that though his
patrimonial estate had dwindled away under
his management, acre by acre, until there was
little more left than a mere patch of Indian
corn and potatoes, yet it was the worst con-
ditioned farm in the neighbourhood.
His children, too, were as ragged and wild
as if they belonged to nobody. His son
Rip, an urchin begotten in his own likeness,
promised to inherit the habits, with the old
clothes of his father. He was generally seen
trooping like a colt, at his mother's heels,
equipped in a pair of his father's cast-off
galligaskins, which he had much ado to hold
up with one hand, as a fine lady does her
train in bad weather.

































































"He would never refuse to assist a neighbour even in the roughest foil."-P. 31.
Copyright 893 by Macmillan & Co.







RIP VAN WINKLE 35

Rip Van Winkle, however, was one of
those happy mortals, of foolish, well-oiled
dispositions, who take the world easy, eat
white bread or brown, whichever can be got
with least thought or trouble, and would
rather starve on a penny than work for a
pound. If left to himself, he would have
whistled life away, in perfect contentment;
but his wife kept continually dinning in his
ears about his idleness, his carelessness, and
the ruin he was bringing on his family.
Morning, noon, and night, her tongue was
incessantly going, and everything he said or
did was sure to produce a torrent of house-
hold eloquence. Rip had but one way of
replying to all lectures of the kind, and that,
by frequent use, had grown into a habit.
He shrugged his shoulders, shook his head,
cast up his eyes, but said nothing. This,
however, always provoked a fresh volley from
D 2







RIP VAN WINKLE


his wife ; so that he was fain to draw off his
forces, and take to the outside of the house-
the only side which, in truth, belongs to a
henpecked husband.
Rip's sole domestic adherent was his dog
Wolf, who was as much henpecked as his
master; for Dame Van Winkle regarded
them as companions in idleness, and even
looked upon Wolf with an evil eye, as the
cause of his master's going so often astray.
True it is, in all points of spirit befitting an
honourable dog, he was as courageous an
animal as ever scoured the woods-but what
courage can withstand the ever-during and
all-besetting terrors of a woman's tongue ?
The moment Wolf entered the house his
crest fell, his tail drooped to the ground or
curled between his legs, he sneaked about
with a gallows air, casting many a sidelong
glance at Dame Van Winkle, and at the


































































"He would carry a fowuling-~iece on his shoulder, for hours togther."-P, 28,







RIP VAN WINKLE 39

least flourish of a broomstick or -ladle, he
would fly to the door with yelping
precipitation.
Times grew worse and worse with Rip
Van Winkle as years of matrimony- rolled
on; a tart temper never mellows with age,
and a sharp tongue is the only edge tool
that grows keener with constant use. For a
long while he used to console himself, when
driven from home, by frequenting a kind of
perpetual club of the sages, philosophers,
and other idle personages of the village;
which held its sessions on a bench before a
small inn, designated by a rubicund portrait
of his majesty George the Third. Here
they used to sit in the shade, of a long lazy
summer's day, talk listlessly over village
gossip, or tell endless sleepy stories about
nothing. But it would have been worth any
statesman's money to have heard the pro-






RIP VAN WINKLE


found discussions that sometimes took place,
when by chance an old newspaper fell into
their hands, from some passing traveller.
How solemnly they would listen to the
contents, as drawled out by Derrick Van
Bummel, the schoolmaster, .a dapper learned
little man, who was not to be daunted by
the most gigantic word in the dictionary;
and how sagely they would deliberate upon
public events some months after they had
taken place.
The opinions of this junto were com-
pletely controlled by Nicholas Vedder, a
patriarch of the village, and landlord of the
inn, at the door of which he took his seat
from morning till night, just moving
sufficiently to avoid the sun, and keep in
the shade of a large tree; so that the
neighbours could tell the hour by his move-
ments as accurately as by a sun-dial. It is
































































" From even this stronghold the unlucky Rip was at length routed by his
terunagant wife."-P. 43.







RIP VAN WINKLE


true, he was rarely heard to speak, but smoked
his pipe incessantly. His adherents, however
(for every great man has his adherents),
perfectly understood him, and knew how to
gather his opinions. When anything that
was read or related displeased him, he was
observed to smoke his pipe vehemently, and
send forth short, frequent, and angry puffs;
but when pleased, he would inhale the
smoke slowly and tranquilly, and emit it in
light and placid clouds, and sometimes
taking the pipe from his mouth, and letting
the fragrant vapour curl about his nose,
would gravely nod his head in token of
perfect approbation.
From even this stronghold the unlucky
Rip was at length routed by his termagant
wife, who would suddenly break in upon the
tranquillity of the assemblage and call the
members all to naught; nor was that august







RIP VAN WINKLE


personage, Nicholas Vedder himself, sacred
from the daring tongue of this terrible
virago, who charged him outright with
encouraging her husband in habits of
idleness.
Poor Rip was at last reduced almost to
despair ; and his only alternative to escape
from the labour of the farm and the clamour
of his wife, was to take gun in hand, and
stroll away into the woods. Here he would
sometimes seat himself at the foot of a tree,
and share the contents of his wallet with
Wolf, with whom he sympathised as a fellow-
sufferer in persecution. "Poor Wolf," he
would say, "thy mistress leads thee a dog's
life of it; but never mind, my lad, whilst
I live thou shalt never want a friend to
stand by thee !" Wolf would wag his tail,
look. wistfully in his master's face, and
if dogs can feel pity, I verily believe




w

''"


" Here he would sometimes seat himself at the foot of a tree, and share the contents of his wallet with Wolf."-P. 44.


Va"'







RIP VAN WINKLE


he reciprocated the sentiment with all his
heart.
In a long ramble of the kind on a fine
autumnal day, Rip had unconsciously
scrambled to one of the highest parts of
the Kaatskill mountains. He was after his
favourite sport of squirrel-shooting, and the
still solitudes had echoed and re-echoed with
the reports of his gun. -Panting and
fatigued, he threw himself, late in the after-
noon, on a green knoll, covered with
mountain herbage, that crowned the brow
of a precipice. From an opening between
the trees he could overlook all the lower
country for many a mile of rich woodland.
He saw at a distance the lordly Hudson,
far, far below him, moving on its silent
but majestic course, with the reflection of
a purple cloud, or the sail of a lagging
bark, here and there sleeping on its glassy







RIP VAN WINKLE


bosom, and at last losing itself in the blue
highlands.
On the other side he looked down into a
deep mountain glen, wild, lonely, and shagged,
the bottom filled with fragments from the
impending cliffs, and scarcely lighted by the
reflected rays of the setting sun. For some
time Rip lay musing on this scene; evening
was gradually advancing; the mountains be-
gan to throw their long blue shadows over
the valleys; he saw that it would be dark
long before he could reach the village, and he
heaved a heavy sigh when he thought of
encountering the terrors of Dame Van
Winkle.
As he was about to descend, he heard a
voice from a distance, hallooing, Rip Van
Winkle !- Rip-Van 'Winkle !" : He looked
around, but could see nothing but a crow
winging its solitary flight across the moun-





F-


" Pantingand fatigued, he threw himself, late in the afternoon, on a green knoll, covered with mountain herbage, that crowned
the brow of a frecipice."-1-. 47.
Copyright 1893 by Macmillan &= Co.


`~------- --- ------I --------~_a._.~- --._~~_.__II


--I


*..J _- '- :
'^^'7

r- r_<<..*'', -







RIP VAN WINKLE


tain. He thought his fancy must have de-
ceived him and turned again to.descend, when
he heard the same cry ring through the still
evening air: "Rip Van Winkle! Rip Van
Winkle "-at the same time Wolf bristled
up his back, and giving a low growl,
skulked to his master's side, looking fearfully
down into the glen. Rip now felt a vague
apprehension stealing over him; he looked
anxiously in the same direction, and perceived
a strange figure slowly toiling up the rocks,
and bending under the weight of something
he carried on his back. He was surprised to
see any human being in this lonely and un-
frequented place, but supposing it to be some
one of the neighbourhood in need of his
assistance he hastened down to yield it.
On nearer approach, he was still more sur-
prised at the singularity of the stranger's
appearance, He was a short, square-built
E 2







RIP VAN WINKLE


old fellow, with thick bushy hair, and a
grizzled beard. His dress was of the antique
Dutch fashion-a cloth jerkin strapped round
the waist-several pairs of breeches, the outer
one of ample volume, decorated with rows of
buttons down the sides, and bunches at the
knees. He bore on his shoulder a stout keg,
that seemed full of liquor, and made signs for
Rip to approach and assist him with the load.
Though rather shy and distrustful of this new
acquaintance, Rip complied with his usual
alacrity, and mutually relieving each other,
they clambered up a narrow gully, apparently
the dry bed of a mountain torrent. As they
ascended, Rip every now and then heard long
rolling peals, like distant thunder, that seemed
to issue out of a deep ravine, or rather cleft
between lofty rocks, toward which their rugged
path conducted. He paused for an instant,
but supposing it to be the muttering of one












~. r

'IC;




'"


SA si mznge ~ ~ ~ .

Coy.ghl 7893 by 1I~ac~ dlls & Co.







RIP VAN WINKLE.


of those transient thunder showers which
often take place in mountain heights, he pro-
ceeded. Passing through the ravine, they
came to a hollow, like a small amphitheatre,
surrounded by perpendicular precipices over
the brinks of which impending trees shot
their branches, so that you only caught
glimpses of the azure sky, and the bright
evening cloud. During the whole time Rip
and his companion had laboured on in silence;
for though the former marvelled greatly what
could be the object of carrying a keg of liquor
up this wild mountain, yet there was some-
thing strange and incomprehensible about the
unknown, that inspired awe and checked
familiarity.
On entering the amphitheatre, new objects
of wonder presented themselves. On a level
spot in the centre was a company of odd-
looking personages playing at nine-pins.







RIP VAN WINKLE


They were dressed in a quaint, outlandish
fashion: some wore short doublets, others
jerkins, with long knives in their belts, and
most of them had enormous breeches, of
similar style with that of the guide's. Their
visages, too, were peculiar: one had a large
head, broad face, and small piggish eyes;
the face of another seemed to consist entirely
of 'nose, and was surmounted by a white
sugarloaf hat, set off with a little red cock's
tail. They all had beards, of various shapes
and colours. There was one who seemed to
be the commander. He was a stout old gen-
tleman, with a weather-beaten countenance;
he wore a laced doublet, broad belt and
hanger, high-crowned hat and feather, red
stockings, and high-heeled shoes, with roses
in them. The whole group reminded Rip of
the figures in an old Flemish painting, in the
parlour of Dominie Van Schaick, the village
















:N, ** -v
O-i^*'j4 y ;
,.1- ^*) i


" Rif complied with his usual alao iy, and .. other they
clambered up a narrow .. -.
Cofyrighl 1893 by Macmillan & Co.









RIP VAN WINKLE


parson, and which had been brought over
from Holland at the time of the settlement.
What seemed particularly odd to Rip was,
that though these folks were evidently amusing
themselves, yet they maintained the gravest


SThe noise ", echoed along the
... .. ', ,P' .- P. 5


faces, the most mysterious silence, and were,
withal, the most melancholy party of pleasure
he had ever witnessed. Nothing interrupted
the stillness of the scene, but the noise of the
balls, which, whenever they were rolled,








RIP VAN WINKLE


echoed along the mountains like rumbling
peals of thunder.
As Rip and his companion approached
them, they suddenly desisted from their play,
and stared at him with such fixed statue-like
gaze, and such strange, uncouth, lack-lustre
countenances, that his heart turned within
him, and his knees smote together. His
companion now emptied the contents of the
keg into large flagons, and made signs to him
to wait upon the company. He obeyed with
fear and trembling; they quaffed the liquor
in profound silence, and then returned to
their game.
By degrees, Rip's awe and apprehension
subsided. He even ventured, when no eye
was fixed upon him, to taste the beverage,
which he found had much of the flavour of
excellent Hollands. He was naturally a
thirsty soul, and was soon tempted to repeat

















I -


"He was naturally a thirsty soul, and was soon tempted to repat the
draught."- 6o.







RIP VAN WINKLE


the draught. One taste provoked another,
and he reiterated his visits to the flagon so
often, that at length his senses were over-
powered, his eyes swam in his head, his head
gradually declined, and he fell into a deep
sleep.
On waking, he found himself on the green
knoll from whence he had first seen the old
man of the glen. He rubbed his eyes-it
was a bright sunny morning. The birds were
hopping and twittering among the bushes,
and the eagle was wheeling aloft, and breast-
ing the pure mountain breeze. "Surely,"
thought Rip, I have not slept here all
night." He recalled the occurrences before
he fell asleep. The strange man with a keg
of liquor-the mountain ravine-the wild
retreat among the rocks-the wo-begone
party at nine-pins-the flagon-" Oh that
flagon that wicked flagon thought Rip-







RIP VAN WINKLE


"what excuse shall I make to Dame Van
Winkle ?"
He looked round for his gun, but in place
of the clean well-oiled fowling-piece, he found
an old firelock lying by him, the barrel
encrusted with rust, and lock falling off, and
the stock worm-eaten. He now suspected
that the grave roysters of the mountain had
put a trick upon him, and having dosed him
with liquor, had robbed him of his. gun;
Wolf, too, had disappeared, but. he might
have strayed away after a squirrel or partridge.
He whistled after him and shouted his name,
but all in vain ; the echoes repeated his
whistle and shout, but no dog was to be
seen.
He determined to revisit: the scene of the
last evening's gambol, and if he met with any
of the party, to demand his dog and gun. As
he rose to walk he found himself stiff in the











































SHe looked round for his gmu, but in place of the clean well-oiled fowlig-iece, he found an old firelock lying by him,
the barrel encrusted with rust.'-P. 64.







RIP VAN WINKLE


joints, and wanting in his usual activity.
"These mountain beds do not agree with
me," thought Rip; and if this frolic should
lay me up with a fit of the rheumatism, I shall
have a blessed time with Dame Van Winkle."
With some difficulty he got down into the glen:
he found the gully up which he and his com-
panion had ascended the preceding evening;
but to his astonishment a mountain stream was
now foaming down it, leaping from rock to
rock, and filling the glen with babbling mur-
murs. He, however, made shift to scramble
up its sides, working his toilsome way through
thickets of birch, sassafras, and witch-hazel,
and sometimes tripped up or entangled by the
wild grape-vines that twisted their coils and
tendrils from tree to tree, and spread a kind
of net-work in his path.
At length he reached to where the ravine
had opened through the cliffs, to the amphi-
F 2






RIP VAN WINKLE


theatre; but no traces of such opening
remained. The rocks presented a high im-
penetrable wall, over which the torrent came
tumbling in a sheet of feathery foam, and fell
into a broad deep basin, black from the shadows
of the surrounding forest. Here, then, poor
Rip was brought to a stand. He again called
and whistled after his dog; he was only
answered by the cawing of a flock of idle
crows, sporting high in air about a dry tree
that overhung a sunny precipice; and who,
secure in their elevation, seemed to look down
and scoff at the poor man's perplexities.
What was to be done? the morning was
passing away, and Rip felt famished for want
of his breakfast. He grieved to give up his
dog and gun; he dreaded to meet his wife;
but it would not do to starve among the
mountains. He shook his head, shouldered
the rusty firelock, and, with a heart full of










I


These mnountaiin beds do not a ee with sue," thought Rif, "and if this frolic
4t i the :imumattvit I shall have a blessed time with


L-A _2 ---` ;







RIP VAN WINKLE


trouble and anxiety, turned his steps home-
ward.
As he approached the village he met a
number of people, but none whom he knew,
which somewhat surprised him, for he had
thought himself acquainted with every one in
the country round. Their dress, too, was of
a different fashion from that to which he was
accustomed. They all stared at him with
equal marks of surprise, and whenever they
cast eyes upon him, invariably stroked their
chins. The constant recurrence of this gesture
induced Rip, involuntarily, to do the same,
when, to his astonishment, he found his beard
had grown a foot long !
He had. now entered the skirts of the
village. A troop of strange children ran at
his heels, hooting after him, and pointing at
his gray beard. The dogs, too, not one of
which he recognized for an old acquaintance,







RIP VAN WINKLE


barked at him as he passed. The very village
was altered : it was larger and more populous.
There were rows of houses which he had never
seen before, and those which had been his
familiar haunts had disappeared. Strange
names were over the doors-strange faces at
the windows-everything was strange. His
mind now misgave him; he began to doubt
whether both he and the world around him
were not bewitched. Surely this was his native
village, which he had left but the day before.
There stood the Kaatskill mountains-there
ran the silver Hudson at a distance-there was
every hill and dale precisely as it had always
been-Rip was sorely perplexed-" That
flagon last night," thought he, "has addled
my poor head sadly "
It was with some difficulty that he found
the way to his own house, which he approached
with silent awe, expecting every moment to






















I'';
~;~. 1r


"As he a broached the village he met a number of people, but none whom he knew,
which somewhat surprised him, for he had thought himself acquainted with
every one in the country round."-P. 71.


I







RIP VAN WINKLE


hear the shrill voice of Dame Van Winkle.
He found the house gone to decay-the roof
fallen in, the windows shattered, and the doors
off the hinges. A half-starved' dog, that
looked like Wolf, was skulking about it. Rip
called him by name, but the cur snarled,
showed his teeth, and passed on. This was an
unkind cut indeed-" My very dog," sighed
poor Rip, has forgotten me "
He entered the house, which, to tell the
truth, Dame Van Winkle had always kept in
neat order. It was empty, forlorn, and appar-
ently abandoned. This desolateness overcame
all his connubial fears-he called loudly for
his wife and children-the lonely chambers
rung for a moment with his voice, and then
all again was silence.
He now hurried forth, and hastened to his
old resort, the village inn-but it too was
gone. A large rickety wooden building







RIP VAN WINKLE


stood in its place, with great gaping windows,
some of them broken, and mended with old
hats and petticoats, and over the door was
painted, "The Union Hotel, by Jonathan
Doolittle." Instead of the great tree that
used to shelter the quiet little Dutch inn of
yore, there now was reared a tall naked pole,
with something qn the top that looked like a
red night-cap, and from it was fluttering a
flag, on which was a singular assemblage of
stars and stripes-all this was strange and
incomprehensible. He recognized on the sign,
however, the ruby face of King George, under
which he had smoked so many a peaceful pipe,
but even this was singularly metamorphosed.
The red coat 'was changed for one of blue and
buff, a sword was held in the hand instead of
a sceptre, the head was decorated with a cocked
hat, and underneath was painted in large
characters, GENERAL WASHINGTON.











































































,J. iAa~







25


" He found the house gone to decay-the roof fallen in."-P. 75.


* ,.







RIP VAN WINKLE


There was, as usual, a crowd of folk about
the door, but none that Rip recollected. The
very character of the people seemed changed.
There was a busy, bustling, disputatious .tone
about it, instead of the accustomed phlegm
and drowsy tranquillity. He looked in vain
for the sage Nicholas Vedder, with his broad
face, double chin, and fair long pipe, uttering
clouds of tobacco smoke instead of idle
speeches; or Van Bummel, the schoolmaster,
doling forth the contents of an ancient news-
paper. In place of these, a lean, bilious-looking
fellow, with his pockets full of handbills, was
haranguing vehemently about rights of citi-
zens-election-members of congress-liberty
-Bunker's hill-heroes of seventy-six-and
other words, that were a perfect Babylonish
jargon to the bewildered Van Winkle.
The appearance of Rip, with his long
grizzled beard, his rusty fowling-piece, his







RIP VAN WINKLE


uncouth dress, and the army of women and
children that had gathered at his heels, soon
attracted the attention of the tavern
politicians. They crowded round him,
eyeing him. from head to foot, with
great curiosity. The orator 'bustled up
to him, and drawing him partly aside,
inquired on which side he voted." Rip
stared in vacant stupidity. Another short
but busy little fellow pulled him by the
arm, and rising on tip-toe, inquired in his
ear, whether he was Federal or Democrat."
Rip was equally at a loss to comprehend the
question; when a knowing, self-important
old gentleman, in a sharp cocked hat, made
his way through the crowd, putting them
to the right and left with his elbows as
he passed, and planting himself before
Van Winkle, with one arm akimbo, the
other resting. on his cane, his keen eyes







RIP VAN WINKLE


and sharp hat penetrating, as it were, into
his very soul, demanded, in an austere tone,
" what brought him to the election with
a gun on his shoulder, and a mob at his
heels, and whether he meant to breed a
riot in the village? Alas gentlemen,"
cried Rip, somewhat dismayed, I am a
poor quiet man, a native of the place,
and a loyal subject of the King, God bless
him "
Here a general shout burst from the
bystanders-" A tory a tory a spy a
refugee hustle him away with him !" it
was with great difficulty that the self-import-
ant man in the cocked hat restored order ;
and having assumed a tenfold austerity of
brow, demanded again of the unknown culprit
what he came there for, and whom he was
seeking. The poor man humbly assured
him that he meant no harm, but merely
G







RIP VAN WINKLE


came there in search of some of his neigh-
bours, who used to keep about the tavern.
Well-who are they ?-name them."
Rip bethought himself a moment, and
inquired, Where's Nicholas Vedder ?"
There was silence for a little while, when
an old man replied, in a thin piping voice,
" Nicholas Vedder? why he is dead and gone
these eighteen years There was a wooden
tombstone in the church-yard that used to tell
all about him, but that's rotted and gone too."
Where's Brom Dutcher ?"
Oh, he went off to the army in the
beginning of the war; some say he was
killed at the storming of Stoney-Point-
others say he was drowned in a squall at the
foot of Antony's Nose. I don't know-he
never came back again."
Where's Van Bummel, the school-
master ?"







RIP VAN WINKLE


"He went off to the wars too, was
a great militia" general, and is now in
Congress."
Rip's heart died away, at hearing of these
sad changes in his home and friends, and
finding himself thus alone in the world.
Every answer puzzled him, too, by treating
of such enormous lapses of time, and of
matters which he could not understand:
war-congress-Stoney-Point ;-he had no
courage to ask after any more friends, but
cried out in despair, Does nobody here know
Rip Van Winkle ?"
Oh, Rip Van Winkle !" exclaimed two
or three, Oh, to be sure that's Rip Van
Winkle yonder, leaning against the tree."
Rip looked, and beheld a precise counter-
part of himself, as he went up the mountain :
apparently as lazy, and certainly as ragged.
The poor fellow was now completely con-
G 2







RIP VAN WINKLE


founded. He doubted his own identity, and
whether he was himself or another man.
In the mist of his bewilderment, the man in
the cocked hat demanded who he was, and
what was his name ?
"God knows," exclaimed he, at his wit's
end; I'm not myself-I'm somebody, else
-that's me yonder-no-that's somebody
else, got into my shoes-I was myself last
night, but I fell asleep on the mountain, and
they've changed my gun, and everything's
changed, and I'm changed, and I can't tell
what's my name, or who I am !"
The bystanders began now to look at each
other, nod, wink significantly, and tap their
fingers against their foreheads. There was
a whisper, also, about securing the gun, and
keeping the old fellow from doing mischief,
at the very suggestion of which the self-im-
portant man in the cocked hat retired with







RIP VAN WINKLE


some precipitation. At this critical moment
a fresh likely-looking woman pressed through
the throng to get a peep at the gray-bearded
man. She had a chubby child in her arms,
which, frightened at his looks, began to cry.
" Hush, Rip," cried she, hush, you little
fool, the old man wont hurt you." The
name of the child, the air of the mother,
the tone of-her voice, all awakened a train
of recollection in his mind. "What is your
name, my good woman ? asked he.
Judith Gardenier."
And your father's name ? "
Ah, poor man, his name was Rip Van
Winkle ; it's twenty years since he went
away from home with his gun, and never
has been heard of since-his dog came home
without him; but whether he shot himself,
or was carried away by the Indians, nobody
can tell. I was then but a little girl."







RIP VAN WINKLE


Rip had but one question more to ask;
but he put it with a faltering voice :
Where's your mother ? "
Oh, she too had died but a short time
since ; she broke a blood vessel in a fit of
passion at a New-England pedlar.
There was a drop of comfort, at least, in
this intelligence. The honest man could
contain himself no longer.-He caught his
daughter and her child in his arms.-" I am
your father !" cried he-" Young Rip Van
Winkle once-old Rip Van Winkle now !-
Does nobody know poor Rip Van Winkle "
All stood amazed, until an old woman,
tottering out from among the crowd, put her
hand to her brow, and peering under it in his
face for a moment, exclaimed, Sure enough !
it is Rip Van Winkle-it is himself! Welcome
home again, old neighbour-Why, where have
you been these twenty long years ?"







RIP VAN WINKLE


Rip's story was soon told, for the whole
twenty years had been to him as one night,
The neighbours stared when they heard it;
some were seen to wink at each other, and
put their tongues in their cheeks: and the
self-important man in the cocked hat, who,
when the alarm was over, had returned to the
field, screwed down the corners of his mouth,
and shook his head-upon which there was
a general shaking of the head throughout the
assemblage.
It was determined, however, to take the
opinion of old Peter Vanderdonk, who was
seen slowly advancing up the road. He was
a descendant of the historian of that name,
who wrote one of the earliest accounts of the
province. Peter was the most ancient inhabit-
ant of the village, and well versed in all the
wonderful events and traditions of the neigh-
bourhood. He recollected Rip at once, and







RIP VAN WINKLE


corroborated his story in the most satisfactory
manner. He assured the company that it
was a fact, handed down from his ancestor the
historian, that the Kaatskill mountains had
always been haunted by strange beings. That
it was affirmed that the great Hendrick
Hudson, the first discoverer of the river and
country, kept a kind of vigil there every
twenty years, with his crew of the Half-moon,
being permitted in this way to revisit the
scenes of his enterprise, and keep a guardian
eye upon the river, and the great city called by
his name. That his father had once seen them
in their old Dutch dresses playing at nine-pins
in a hollow of the mountain; and that he
himself had heard, one summer afternoon, the
sound of their balls like distant peals of
thunder.
To make a long story short the company
broke up, and returned to the more important







RIP VAN WINKLE


concerns of the election. Rip's daughter took
him home to live with her : she had a snug,
well-furnished house, and a stout cheery
farmer for a husband, whom Rip recollected
for one of the urchins that used to climb
upon his back. As to Rip's son and heir,
who was the ditto of himself, seen leaning
against the tree, he was employed to work on
the farm ; but evinced an hereditary disposi-
tion to attend to anything else but his
business.
Rip now resumed his old walks and habits :
he soon found many of his former
cronies, though all rather the worse for
the wear and tear of time; and preferred
making friends among the rising generation,
with whom he soon grew into great favour.
Having nothing to do at home, and being
arrived at that happy age when a man can
do nothing with impunity, he took his place




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