Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 List of Illustrations
 Half Title
 Rip Van Winkle
 Back Matter
 Back Cover

Title: Rip Van Winkle
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00087348/00001
 Material Information
Title: Rip Van Winkle
Physical Description: v, 115 p., 1 leaf of plates : ill. (some col.) ; 20 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Irving, Washington, 1783-1859
Coburn, Frederick Simpson, 1871-1960 ( Illustrator )
Armstrong, Margaret, 1867-1944 ( Illustrator )
G.P. Putnam's Sons ( Publisher )
Knickerbocker Press ( Printer )
Publisher: G.P. Putnam's Sons
Place of Publication: New York ;
Manufacturer: Knickerbocker Press
Publication Date: 1899
Subject: Van Winkle, Rip (Fictitious character) -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Husband and wife -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Ghosts -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Death -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Barbers -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Laziness -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Drinking of alcoholic beverages -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Scolds -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Sleep -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Dreams -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Magic -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Dogs -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Juvenile fiction -- Catskill Mountains (N.Y.)   ( lcsh )
Juvenile fiction -- New York (State)   ( lcsh )
Juvenile literature -- 1899   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1899
Genre: Juvenile literature   ( rbgenr )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
United States -- New York -- New York
Statement of Responsibility: by Washington Irving.
General Note: Text within colored ornamental borders.
General Note: Title page engraved.
General Note: Pictorial front cover and spine; illustrated endpapers.
General Note: "The photogravures in this volume are taken from designs by Frederick Simpson Coburn. The borders and cover are by Miss Margaret Armstrong"--p. iii
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00087348
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002232057
notis - ALH2446
oclc - 05539236
lccn - 99004660

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Front Matter 1
        Front Matter 2
        Page i
        Page i-a
    Title Page
        Page ii
        Page iii
        Page iv
    List of Illustrations
        Page v
    Half Title
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
    Rip Van Winkle
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 18a
        Page 18b
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
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        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 28a
        Page 28b
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        Page 32
        Page 32a
        Page 32b
        Page 33
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        Page 36
        Page 37
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        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 40a
        Page 40b
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        Page 45
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        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 50a
        Page 50b
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        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 88a
        Page 88b
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
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        Page 103
        Page 104
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        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
    Back Matter
        Back Matter 1
        Back Matter 2
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text

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"He used to tell his story to every
stranger that arrived at Mr. Doo-
little's kotel."

NewYork o"Joi
QP-Pufmni's Sons
>1 i-"


Entered at Stationers' Hall, London

be ltnicckerbocker press, Recw Work

The photogravures in this volume are
from designs by Frederick Simpson
Coburn. The borders and cover are by
Miss Margaret Armstrong.

"He used to tell his story to every stranger
that arrived at Mr. Doolttle's Hotel."
" The children would shout with joy when-
ever he approached" 18
"He was fain to draw off his forces and take
to the outside-the only side which in
truth belongs to a henpecked husband" 28
"Here they used to sit in the shade through
a long, la'y summer's day 32
"For some time Rip lay musing on this
scene 42
" On a level spot in the centre was a com-
pany of odd-looking personages playing
at ninepins". o
"They've changed my gun, and everything's
changed, and I 'm changed" 88


l Introbuctorp
[The following Tale was found among
the papers of the late Diedrich Knicker-
bocker, an old gentleman of New York,
who was very curious in the Dutch his-
tory of the province, and the manners of
the descendants from its primitive set-
tlers. His historical researches, however,
did not lie so much among books as
among men ; for the former are lament-
ably scanty on his favorite topics;
whereas he found the old burghers, and
still more their wives, rich in that legend-
ary lore so invaluable to true history.
Whenever, therefore, he happened upon
a genuine Dutch family, snugly shut up
in its low-roofed farmhouse, under a

l1Rp Van MIlinkIe

spreading sycamore, he looked upon it
as a little clasped volume of black-letter,
and studied it with the zeal of a book-
SThe result of all these researches was
a history of the province during the reign
of the Dutch governors, which he pub-
lished 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 scrupu-
lous 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
The old gentlemen died shortly after.

iRip IV)an 'linhIe

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 labors. He, how-
ever, 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 his
neighbors, 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 mem-
ory may be appreciated by critics, it is
still held dear by many folk whose good
opinion is well worth having ; particu-
larly by certain biscuit-bakers, who have

1Rip VWan IIinkle

gone so far as to imprint his likeness on
their New-Year cakes; and have thus
given him a chance for immortality, al-
most equal to the being stamped on
a Waterloo Medal, or a Queen Anne's



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-
W HOEVER 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
surrounding country. Every change of
season, every change of weather, indeed,
a TI

1Rip lan 1Uinhle

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 out-
lines on the clear evening sky ; but some-
times, when the rest of the landscape is
cloudless, they will gather a hood of
gray vapors 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

1Rip Van mlinle

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 be-
ginning 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 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 prov-
ince of Great Britain, a simple, good-
natured fellow, of the name of Rip Van

1Rip Wan tlnhkle

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 neighbor, and an obe-
dient, hen-pecked husband. 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
discipline of shrews at home. Their
tempers doubtless, are rendered pliant and
malleable in the fiery furnace of domes-
tic tribulation ; and a curtain-lecture is

" The children would shout with joy
whenever he approached."

S worth all the sermons in the world for
teaching the virtues of patience and long-
suffering. A termagant wife may, there-
fore, 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 fa-
vorite 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 gos-
sipings, to lay all the blame on Dame
Van Winkle. The children of the vil-
lage, too, would shout with joy when-
ever 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,

1Rip an Walinkle


1Rip lan 'Uinkle

and Indians. Whenever he went dodg-
ing about the village, he was surrounded
by a troop of them, hanging on his
skirts, clambering on his back, and play-
ing a thousand tricks on him with im-
punity; and not a dog would bark at
him throughout the neighborhood.
The great error in Rip's composition
was an insuperable aversion to all kinds
of profitable labor. It could not be from
the 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 day without a mur-
mur, even though he should not be en-
couraged by a single nibble. He would
carry a fowling-piece on his shoulder for
hours together, trudging through woods
and swamps, and up hill and down dale,

TRip 1an WUinkle

to shoot a few squirrels or wild pigeons.
He would never refuse to assist a neigh-
bor 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 at-
tend 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 continu-

1Rip Wan MElinkle

ally falling to pieces; his cow would
either go astray, or get among the cab-
bages; 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 es-
tate had dwindled away under his man-
agement acre by acre, until there was
little more left than a mere patch of In-
dian corn and potatoes, yet it was the
worst conditioned farm in the neigh-
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

TRip Wan MinhIe

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.
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, which-
ever 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 was fain to draw off his forces
and take to the oulside-the only side
which inI truth/ belongs to a henpecked

1Rip VIan lllinkIe

he said or did was sure to produce a
torrent of household eloquence. Rip
had but one way of replying to all lec-
tures 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, how-
ever, always provoked a fresh volley
from 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 hen-pecked
Rip's sole domestic adherent was his
dog Wolf, who was as much hen-pecked
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

1Rip Van finkle

so often astray. True it is, in all points
of spirit befitting an honorable 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 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
edged tool that grows keener with con-

" Here they used to sit in the shade
through a long, lazy summer's day."

TiRp tan MXlinkle

stant 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 por-
trait of His Majesty George the Third..
Here they used to sit in the shade through
a long, lazy summer's day, talking list-
lessly over village gossip, or telling end-
less sleepy stories about nothing. But
it would have been worth any states-
man's money to have heard the profound
discussions that sometimes took place,
when by chance an old newspaper fell
into their hands from some passing trav-
eller. How solemnly they would listen
to the contents, as drawled out by Der-

\ // 1Rip ban lplfttke

rick 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
S 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 neighbors could tell the hour by his
movements as accurately as by a sun-
dial. It is true he was rarely heard to
speak, but smoked his pipe incessantly.
His adherents, however (for every great
S man has his adherents), perfectly under-

IRip lan Tflinhle

stood him, and knew how to gather his
opinions. When anything that was read
or related displeased him, he was ob-
served to smoke his pipe vehemently,
and to 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
vapor curl about his nose, would gravely
nod his head in token of perfect appro-
From even this stronghold the un-
lucky 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 personage,

lRip Wan lUink[e

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 labor of the farm and
clamor 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 con-
tents of his wallet with Wolf, with
whom he sympathized as a fellow-suf-
ferer 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

"For some time Rai lay musing on
this scene."

TiRp Wll n ltilun[e

face; and, if dogs can feel pity, I verily
S believe 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 favorite 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 afternoon, 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 be-
low him, moving on its silent but majes-

7Tfa -<

TRip Wan 'iOlnhle

tic course, with the reflection of a purple
cloud, or the sail of a lagging bark, here
and there sleeping on its glassy bosom,
and at last losing itself in the blue
On the other side he looked down into
a deep mountain glen, wild, lonely, and
shagged, the bottom filled with frag-
ments 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.

1Rip Van inllnle

As he was about to descend, he heard
Sa voice from a distance, hallooing, "Rip
Van Winkle! Rip Van Winkle !" He
looked round, but could see nothing but
a crow winging its solitary flight across
the mountain. He thought his fancy
must have deceived him, and turned
again to descend, when he heard the
same cry ring through the still evening
air : Rip Van Winkle Rip Van Win-
Skle "-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 car-

Rfp t1atn Winkle

ried on his back. He was surprised to
see any human being in this lonely and
unfrequented place ; but supposing it to
be some one of the neighborhood in need
of his assistance, he hastened down to
yield it.
On nearer approach he was still more
surprised at the singularity of the stran-
ger's appearance. He was a short,
square-built 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
pair 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

1Rip Wan .Ullinhle

with the load. Though rather shy and
distrustful of this new acquaintance, Rip
complied with his usual alacrity ; and
mutually relieving one another, 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 mut-
tering of one of those transient thunder-
showers which often take place in
mountain heights, he proceeded. Pass-
ing through the ravine, they came to a
hollow, like a small amphitheatre, sur-
rounded by perpendicular precipices,

"On a level spot in the centre was a com-
pany of odd-looking personages play-
ing at nine-pins."

1Rip Wan TlufnkhIe

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 labored
on in silence; for though the former
marvelled greatly what could be the ob-
ject of carrying a keg of liquor up this
wild mountain, yet there was something
strange and incomprehensible about the
unknown that inspired awe and checked
On entering the amphitheatre, new
objects of wonder presented themselves.
On a level spot in the centre was a com-
pany of odd-looking personages playing
at ninepins. They were dressed in a
quaint, outlandish fashion; some wore
short doublets, others jerkins, with long

1Rip Van Mi nkle

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
beard, broad face, and small piggish eyes;
the face of another seemed to consist en-
tirely of nose, and was surmounted by a
white sugar-loaf hat, set off with a little
red cock's tail. They all had beards, of
various shapes and colors. There was
one who seemed to be the commander.
He was a stout old gentleman, with a
weather-beaten countenance ; he wore a
laced doublet, broad belt and hanger,
high-crowned hat and feather, red stock-
ings, and high-heeled shoes, with roses
in them. The whole group reminded
Rip of the figures in an old Flemish
painting, in the parlor of Dominie Van

IRip Van 'linkle

Shaick, the village 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 evi-
dently amusing themselves, yet they
maintained the gravest faces, the most
mysterious silence, and were, withal,
the most melancholy party of pleasure
he had ever witnessed. Nothing inter-
rupted the stillness of the scene but the
noise of the balls, which, whenever they
were rolled, 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, un-
couth, lack-lustre countenances, that his

TRip. Dan flminhtle

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 apprehen-
sion subsided. He even ventured, when
no eye was fixed upon him, to taste the
beverage, which he found had much of
the flavor of excellent Hollands. He
was naturally a thirsty soul, and was
soon tempted to repeat the draught.
One taste provoked another ; and he re-
iterated his visits to the flagon so often
that at length his senses were overpow-
ered, his eyes swam in his head, his

1Rtp Wan tllinkle

head gradually declined, and he fell into
a deep sleep.
On waking, he found himself on the
green knoll 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 breasting 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 woe-be-
gone party at ninepins-the flagon-
" Oh that flagon that wicked flagon! "
thought Rip, "What excuse shall I
make to Dame Van Winkle? "

TRip Dan 'Mlinhle

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 incrusted with rust, the
lock falling off, and the stock worm-
eaten. He now suspected that the grave
roisterers 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

1Rip 1an 'Itnhle

found himself stiff in the 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 companion
had ascended the preceding evening;
but to his astonishment a mountain
stream was now foaming down it, leap-
ing from rock to rock, and filling the
glen with babbling murmurs. He, how-
ever, made shift to scramble up its sides,
working his toilsome way through thick-
ets of birch, sassafras, and witch-hazel,
and sometimes tripped up or entangled
by the wild grape-vines that twisted

TRip Dan tllinhle

their coils or tendrils from tree to tree,
and spread a kind of network in his path.
At length he reached to where the
ravine had opened through the cliffs to
the amphitheatre ; but no traces of such
opening remained. The rocks presented
a high, impenetrable 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 ele-
vation, seemed to look down and scoff at
the poor man's perplexities. What was
a 65

4 1/ 1Rip Wan WtinIc

Sto 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 trouble and anxiety,
turned his steps homeward.
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 fash-
ion from that to which he was accus-
tomed. They all stared at him with
equal marks of surprise, and whenever
they cast their eyes upon him, invariably
SS 67

1Rip Dan W'inkle

stroked their chins. The constant re-
currence 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 point-
ing at his gray beard. The dogs, too,
not one of which he recognized for an
old acquaintance, 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-every-
thing was strange. His mind now mis-

1Rtp V1an llinhle

.gve him; he began to doubt whether
both he and the world around him were
not bewitched. Surely this was his na-
tive 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, expect-
ing every moment to 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

1Rip Van Wlinkle

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, for-
lorn, and apparently abandoned. This
desolateness overcame all his connubial
fears-he called loudly for his wife and
children-the lonely chambers rang 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 stood in its place, with great

1Rip 1Wan Tiltinhke

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 on the top that looked
like a red nightcap, and from it was flut-
tering 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 metamor-
phosed. The red coat was changed for
one of blue and buff, a sword was held
in the hand instead of a sceptre, the head

TRip W1an Untinkle

was decorated with a cocked hat, and
underneath was painted in large char-
There was, as usual, a crowd of folk
about the door, but none that-Rip recol-
lected. The very character of the people
seemed changed. There was a busy,
bustling, disputatious tone about it, in-
stead 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 Bum-
mel, the schoolmaster, doling forth the
contents of an ancient newspaper. In
place of these, a lean, bilious-looking
fellow, with his pockets full of hand-
bills, was haranguing vehemently about

1Rip Wan mlintle

rights of citizens- elections- members
of congress-liberty-Bunker's Hill-he-
roes of seventy-six-and other words,
which were a perfect Babylonish jargon
to the bewildered Van Winkle.
The appearance of Rip, with his long,
grizzled beard, his rusty fowling-piece,
his uncouth dress, and an army of wo-
men and children at his heels, soon
attracted the attention of the tavern-
politicians. They crowded round him,
eying 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 tiptoe, inquired in his ear,
"Whether he was Federal or Demo-

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