R ip Van Winkle
By
Washington I riving published in (1824)
At the
foot of koatskill mountain there was a village. There were the houses of the
orignal settlers, of Small yellow bricks brought from having latticed windows
and gabled fronts surmounted with weather cocks.
In one of these house there lived a
very simple good natured fellow of name
Rip Van Winkle. He was great
favrouite in the village . The children of the village would shout with joy
whevever he appooached.He assisted at
their sports made there playthings, taught them to fly kites and shoot marbles
and told them long stories of Ghosts, and wiches.
The great error in Rip’s compostion
was an insuperable aversion to all kinds of profitable laboura. Rip was ready
to attend to any body’s business but his own but as to any body business duty
and keeping his form in order he found it impossible.
In fact he declared it was of no use
to work on his farm his fences were continually falling to pieces ; his cow
would either go astray or get among the cabbaqes His children too were as
ragged as and wild as if they beloned to nobody.
His wife kept continually dinning in
his ears about his idleness his careless ness and the ruin he brought for his
family. Morning, noon and night her tounge was incessantly going and every
thing he said was or did was sure to produces a torrent household eloquence.
Rip’s sole domestic adherent was his
dog wolf who was as much henpecked as
his master.
Time Grew worse and worse with Rip Van
Winkle when driven from home Rip used to sit with philosophers, and other idle
personaqes of the village held it session on a bench before a small inn to
eseape from th labaour of the farm and clamor of his wife with his gun stroll
away in to the woods. Here he would sometimes seat himself at the foot of a
tree and share the contents of his wallct with wolf.
In a long ramble of the kind on a fine
autumnal day, Rip had unconsciously scambled to one of the highest ports of the
kootskill mountains shooting squirrel on the other side looked down in to a
deep glen ,wild lonely and shagged the bottom filled with fragments from the
impending cliffs and scacely light by the reflected rays of the setting sun for
sometime Rip lay musing. On this seene evening was gradudly advancing 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 round
but could see nothing but a crow he thought his fancey must have deceived him.
and turned again to descend.when he heard the same crying throug the still
evening air. Rip Van Winkle Rip Van Winkle at the Same time wolf bristled up his back and giving a low growl
skulled to his master’s side looking fearfully down in to the glen He looked
anxiously in the same direction and percieved a strange figure slowly and
perceived a strange figure slowly toiling up the rocks and bending under the
weight of something he carried on he 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.
The Stranger was a short Squre built
old fellow with thick bushy hair and a grizzled beard His dress was of an
antique
Dutch fastion 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 with the load . Rip took his load and mutually
relievivg one another they clambred up a narrow gully As they ascended Rip
every now and then heard long rolling peals like distant thunder that seemed to
issue out of a deep raivine.He paused for an instant but thought it to be the
muttering of one of thunder showers They came to a hollow like a small
amphitheatre.
On entering the amphitheatre he saw on
a level spot in the centre was a company of odd looking personage playing at
nine pins .They were dressed in a quaint out landish fastion ; 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.
There was one who seemed to be the
commander he wore a laced doublet broad belt and hanger high crowned head and
feather red stockings and high heeled shoes with roses in them.
What seemed particularly odd to Rip
was the most mysterious silence 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 strong uncouth
lack lustre countenaces ,that his heart turned within him and his kuees smote
together His companion now eupited the contents of the keg in to large flagons
and made sign to him to wait upon the company. He obeyed with fear and
trembling they quaffed the liqour in profound silence and the returned to their
game.
When no eye was fixed upon him he
tasted the beverage which he found had much of the flavour of exellent Dlutch
gin.He was soon temped to repeat the draught one tasted proved another and he
reiterated his visit to the flygon so often that at length his seuse were over
powered ,his eyes swam in his head his head gragually declined and he fell in
to 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 . ‘Surely’ thought Rip, “ I have not
slept here all night.” He recalled the occurrences before he fell a
sleep.
“Oh I that flagon ! that wicked flagon
!’ thought Rip What excuse shall I make to Dame Van Winkle .
He looked round for his gun but in
place of the clean well -oiled fowling by him he found an old firelock lying by
him. the barrel incrustest with rust the lock falling of and the stock worm
eaten. He now suspected that the grave roysters of the mountain had put a trick
upon him and robbed him of his of his gun. Wolf too had disappeared but he
might have strayed away after a squirrel or pat ridge. He whistled after him
and shouted his name but all in vain the eehoes repeated his whistle and shout
but no dog was to be seen.
He determined to revisit the scene of
the last evening’s gambol to demand his dog and gun.As rose to walk he found
himself stiff in the joints these mountain beds do not agree with me. thought
Rip with same difficulty he got down in to the glen but to his astonishment a
mountain stream was now fall foaming down it.
Poor Rip was brought to a stant He
again called and whistled after his dog what was to be done.? The morning was
passing away He was feeling hungry . He
grived to give up his dog and guu he dreaded to meet his wife but it would not
do to starve among the mountains.
As he approached the village he met a
number of people but none whom he know which some what surprised him for he had
thought himself acquainted with every one in country round .Their dress too was
different faishon from that to which he was accustomed . They all stared at him
with equel marks of surprise specially at his chin the constant recurrence of
this gesture induced Rip to do the same when to his astonishment he found his
beared had growu a foot long. !
A troop of strange children at his
heels hooting after him. The very village was altered there were rows of houses which he had never seen
before. Strange names were over the doors strange faces at the windows every
thing was strange His mind now misgave him. Surely this was his native village
which he had left but the day before. That flagon last night thought he has
addled my poor head sadly.
It was with same difficulty that he
found the way to his own house which he approached with silent. Awe expecting
every moment to hear the strill voice of Dam van wiukle. He found the house
gone to decay the roof fallen in the window shattered and the doors off the
hinges .A half starved dog that looked like wolf was skulling about it. Rip
called him by name but the cur snarled showed his teeth and passed on,”my very
dog “sighed poor Rip,” has forgotten me.”
He entered the house it was empty
forlorn and apparently abandoned. 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 . instead of inn there
was an hotel. All this bewildered Van winkle The appearance of Rip with his
long grizzled beard his rusty fowling piece his uncouth dress and an army of
women and children at his heels soon attracted the attention of the tavern
people .They croweded round him. One fellow asked in an austere tone what
brought him to the village with a gun on his shoulder and a mob at heel .and
whether he meant to bread a roit and a map
in the village?”” Alas gentlemen,” cried Rip some what dismayed. I am a
poor quiet man a native of the place please tell one where Nicholas vedder?
An old man replied in a thin piping
voice “Nicholas vedder ! why he is dead and gone these eighteen years. !”
He asked about others. But no one was
there. Rip’s heart died away at hearing of these sad chanqes in his home and
friends and finding himself thus alone in the world. He cried out in despair
does nobody here know Rip van wimkle “yes one is that fellow leaning against
the cherry tree. He looked at the fellow as just he was at his age”
God knows exelaimed he at his wit’s
end. I am not myself I am some body else. I was my self last night, but I fell
asleep on the mountain and they ‘ve changed my gun and every thing is changed I
can tell what my name or who I am .
The by standers began to look now at
each other there was a whisper also about the gun. In the crowed he heard a
young woman chiding her child ,”hush Rip cried she,” hush you little fool. The
old man won’t hurt you the name of the child the air of the mother the tone of
her voice all awakened a train of recollections in his mind ,”what is your name
my good woman,” asked he . “Judith “
“And your father’s name?*
^Ah poor man Rip van winkle was his
name but its twenty years since he went away from home with his gun and never
has been heard of since his dog came without him but wheither he shot himself
or was carried away nobody can tell I was then but a little girl.*
Rip had but one more question to ask,’
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 peddlet
The honest man could contain himself
nolonqer he cought his daughter and her child in his arm,” I am your father”
cried he.” young Rip van wimkle once old
Rip van wimkle now “does any body know poor Rip van winKle .
All stood amaged until an old woman
tottering out from among the crowed put her hand to her brow and peering under
it in his face for a moment exclaimed sure enough it is Rip van wimple it is
himself old neighbour why where have your been these twenty long years “
Rip story was soon told for the whole
twenty years had been to him but as one night.
Rip’s daughter took him to her house
Rip recollected poor one of his boy that used to climb upon his back. He was
rip’s son ditto of himself feaning against the cherry tree
Having nothing to do at home and being
arrived at that happy age when a men can be the with impunity he took his place
once more on the benhce at the inn door and was reverenced as one of the
patriarchs of the village and a chronicle at the old times “before the war”
happily that was an end he had got his neck out of the yoke of matrimony and
could go in and out whenever he pleased without dreading the tyranny of Dame
van winkle.
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