|×ș·
! !! !!！K！， ¡ſ__（*aelº， （A, _）§x （*）·（*） *** • ** 3. ***¿№. ！！ ！！ ！！ %:i'ſae."， √∞, √∞ √° √≠ √&-， . -， *， *） L * T_，-
|i.•№***wºw！*æ***Bezae---）（ſ-….…````| T**， *.§.∞！\， … ~~~~，∞∞∞∞º ，
-{ſ.
… ，*►|×！«،∞∞∞∞v√°√∞（***）（ax.， e.º. ºſºas.ºs.se aes ）， a-■■■■∞ √ （） （№.„№， „· ·
©_№_eZ， C， G， g， … º， ę， ą， ę ›› ‹‹.§ 3º_3_-_ae， §4， 3 º $í €， ， ， .sº 4: …:：
º
& º
ES
I
º
_2
tº C
“a
º
Hº,
MAYNARD's
• W
©
• Asº
O F - - -
SLEEPY HOLLOW
yNARD, MERRILL & Co. ||
º 43,45 & 47 East 1ord St.
|-/|\
|
ISH-CLASSIC-SER
�
*** *
* * *
~~~~
- -
:-"? . .
*-*.
—º *::. . .
. '… . （**）' ）
șºgſ ſººſ ,
ºh
*-
*{{·
* · · * * * ， , , , ,
\,\,^, ºº :*（ 5.）
ºf
Sºº-º-º-º-º-º-º:
* : . s: º gº ºf a sº gº. A * g.
sº
sº
\，\！
g
Đ r - . . .
º --- ... "
* º º S. ** - º
Loº .*
- * º
*A*.




- - ~- - - - - -****** ~ ~ ~ -· • • • • • • - - -*- . . . .-
HIKI，II,II，II，II，II，II,II，II，II，II,II，IIȚII
±∞∞∞ sº º se • • • • • • • • • • • •
f
#
MN
º
irºs
|||||||||||||
Słºś - -
ºilſ.[III][[III]IIIHIIII
ÚV
ſ.
§3
�
ķē
Ē
ill
Rºyº,
º
Nº
|||||||||||||
{{！！！!!！！ŕMR{{IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIĘ Į
ĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪĪáÉÉſĒĒĒĒĒĒĒĒĒĒĒĒĒĒĒĒĒĒĒĒĖ

ENGLISH CLASSIC SERIES.–No. 41. I ºf º W.
THE
g
#
#
TIEGEND OF SLEEPY Hollow.
(FROM THE “SKETCH-BOOK.”)
BY
WASHINGTON IRVING.
FDITED FOR SCHOOL AND BIOME USE BY
ALBERT F. BLAISDELL, A.M.,
4 UTHoR or “ouTLINE STUDIES IN ENGLISH CLASSICs,” “OUTLINES FOR THE,
STUDY OF THE ENGLISH CLASSICs,” “ANNOTATED EDITION
OF ‘ENOOH ARDEN,” ETC., ETC,
NEW YORK :
MAYNARD, MERRILL & Co., PUBLISHERs,
43, 45, AND 47 EAST TENTH STREET.
‘New Series, No. 15, February 25, 1892, ... Published Semi-weekly. Subscription Price $10, -
Entered at Post Office, New York, as Second-class Matter.

A COMPLETE COURSE IN THE STUDY OF ENGLISH.
Spelling, Language, Grammar, Composition, Literature.
REED's WORD LESSONS–A COMPLETE SPELLER.
REED'S INTRODUCTORY LANGUAGE WORK.
REED & KELLOGG’s GRADED LESSONS IN ENGLISH. *.
REED & KELLOGG'S HIGHER LESSONS IN ENGLISH.
REED & KELLOGG'S ONE-BOOK COURSE IN ENGLISH.
KELLOGG’S TEXT-BOOK ON RHETORIC.
KELLOGG's TEXT-BOOK ON ENGLISH LITERATURE.
In the preparation of this series the authors have had one object
&learly in view—to so develop the study of the English language as
to present a complete, progressive course, from the Spelling-Book to
the study of English Literature. The troublesome contradictions
which arise in using books arranged by different authors on these
subjects, and which require much time for explanation in the school-
room, will be avoided by thºse of the above “Complete Course.”
Teachers are earnestly invitsaso examine these books.
MAYNARD, MERRILL, & Co., Publishers
43, 45, and 47 East Tenth Street, New York.
COPYRIGHT, 1883, BY CLARK & MAYNARD.


LIFE OF TRWING,
WASHINGTON IRVING, one of the earliest and most popular of Amer
‘ican authors, and of whom Thackeray happily spoke as “the first
ambassador whom the New World of Letters sent to the Old,” was
born in New York City, in 1783. He received only a common-school
, education, leaving the School-room at sixteen, yet for many years
afterward pursued a systematic course of reading of the standard
authors, especially Chaucer, Spenser, and Bunyan. In his boyhood
days he seemed to have a natural talent for writing essays and stories.
As he always detested mathematics, he often wrote compositions for
his school-mates, and they in turn worked out his problems for him.
He studied law for a time, but not being inclined to submit to the
drudgery of a profession, preferred to employ himself in rambling
excursions around Manhattan Island, by which he became familiar
with the beautiful scenery which he afterward made famous by his
pen. Thus he acquired that minute knowledge of various historical
locations, curious traditions, and legends, so beautifully made use of
in his Sketch-Book and History of New York. In 1804, being threatened
with pulmonary disease, he sailed for Europe, and remained abroad
for nearly two years. On his return, he undertook to resume his legal
practice, but without success. In company with others, he began the
publication of a serial called “Salamagundi.” It was well conducted,
and proved successful. In 1809, he published his Knickerbocker's His-
tory of New York, “the most unique, perfectly rounded, and elabor-
ately sustained burlesque in our literature.” He conducted a maga-
zine in Philadelphia for two years, to which he contributed articles
afterward included in the Sketch-Book. In 1814, he served as an aid
to Governor Tompkins, and at the end of the war again went to
Europe, where he continued to live for the next seventeen years. By
the failure of his brother, he lost all his property, and having been
thus thrown upon his own resources, he devoted himself to literature
to earn a living. His Sketch-Book was published in 1819. By the per-
sonal influence of Sir Walter Scott it was republished in London, and
at once established Irving's reputation as a great author.
4. IIFE OF IRWING.

His next works were Bracebridge Hall, published in 1822, and Tales of
a Traveler, in 1824. Having been commissioned to make some transla-
tions from the Spanish, he took up his residence in Madrid. To this
residence in Spain we are indebted for some of his most charming
works, as, Life of Columbus, Conquest of Granada, The Alhambra, Ma-
homet and his Successors, and Spanish Papers. He returned to America
in 1832. During the next ten years were published Astoria, Adventures
of Captain Bonneville, and Wolfert's Roost. In 1842, Irving was ap-
pointed Minister to Spain. His Life of Goldsmith was published four
years later, after his return home. His last and most carefully written
work was the Life of Washington, in five volumes.
Irving's last years were passed at “Sunnyside,” his delightful resi-
dence at Tarrytown, on the Hudson, in the midst of the beautiful
Scenes which he has immortalized. Irving died Nov. 28, 1859, the
Same year with Prescott, the historian, and Macaulay. A friend who
saw much of our author in his latter days thus describes him: “He
had dark gray eyes, a handsome straight nose, which might perhaps
be called large ; a broad, high, full forehead, and a small mouth. I
should call him of medium height, about five feet and nine inches,
and inclined to be a trifle stout. His smile was exceedingly genial,
lightening up his whole face, and rendering it very attractive; while if .
he were about to say any thing humorous, it would beam forth from
his eyes even before his words were spoken.” ... * *
In one of his charming “Easy Chair” essays, George William Curtis
says:—“Irving was as quaint a figure as the Diedrich Knickerbocker
in the preliminary advertisement of the History of New York. Thirty
years ago he might have been seen on an autumnal afternoon, tripping
with an elastic step along Broadway, with low quartered shoes neatly
tied, and a Talma cloak—a short garment like the cape of a coat.
There was a chirping, cheery, old school air in his appearance whiêh
Was undeniably Dutch, and most harmonious with the association of
his writing. He seemed, indeed, to have stepped out of his own
books; and the cordial grace and humor of his address, if he Stopped
for a passing chat, were delightfully characteristic. He was then our
most famous man of letters, but he was simply free from all self-con- .
sciousness and assumption and dogmatism.”
WASHINGTON IRWING, 1783–1859.
“Washington Irving ! Why, gentlemen, I don’t go upstairs to bed
two nights out of the seven without taking Washington Irving under
my arm.”—Charles Dickens.
“I know of no books which are oftener lent than those that bear
the pseudonym of “Geoffrey Crayon.” Few, very few, can show a
19ng succession so pure, so graceful, and so varied, as Mr. Irving.”—
Mary Russell Mitford.
“Rich and original humor, great refinement of feeling and delicacy
of Sentiment. Style accurately finished, easy, and transparent. Ad-
curate observer: his descriptions are correct, animated, and beauti-
ful.”—George S. Hillard.
“If he wishes to study a style which possesses the characteristie
peauties of Addison's, its ease, simplicity, and elegance, with greater
accuracy, point, and Spirit, let him give his days and nights to the vol-
umes of Irving.”—Edward Everell’s Advice to a Student,
“He seems to have been born with a rare sense of literary propor-
tion and form ; into this, as into a mold, were run his apparently
lazy and really acute observations of life. That he thoroughly mas-
tered such literature as he fancied there is abundant evidence ; that
his style was influenced by the purest English models is also apparent.
But there remains a large margin for wonder how, with his want of
training, he could have elaborated a style which is distinctly his own,
and is as copious, felicitous in the choice of words, flowing, spontane-
Ous, flexible, engaging, clear, and as little wearisome when read con-
tinuously in quantity as any in the English tongue.”—C. D. Warner.
“In his family, gentle, generous, good-humored, affectionate, self-
denying ; in Society, a delightful example of complete gentleman-
hood; quite unspoiled by prosperity ; never obsequious to the great;
eager to acknowledge every contemporary’s merit; always kind and
affable with the young members of his calling ; in his professional
bargains and mercantile dealings delicately honest and grateful. He
Was, at the same time, one of the most charming masters of our
lighter language; the constant friend to us and our nation ; to men of
letters doubly dear, not for his wit and genius merely, but as an ex-
emplar of goodness, probity, and a pure life,”—Wm. M. Thackeray,
REFERENCES.
For full particulars concerning Irving’s personal and literary career,
the student is referred to Curtis’s Homes of Americant Authors, Duty-
ckinck’s American Literature, Tuckerman’s Sketch, and Bryant’s Ora-
tion, delivered a few years ago, and since republished in a volume of
essays. Read also the Life of Irving in Hill's series of Great American
Authors, and an essay by Charles D. Warner, originally printed in the
Atlantic, for March, 1880, and since revised and published as the first
volume of American Men of Letters, a series of biographies of eminent
American authors.
Studies of Irving is a little book containing the essays by Warner and
Bryant, and Personal Reminiscences, by George P. Putnam. An ex-
hº biography of Irving has been written by his nephew, Pierre
rVing.
PRINCIPAL WRITINGS.
Sketch-Book; History of New York; Bracebridge Hall; Tales of a
Traveler; Life of Columbus; Conquest of Granada; Alhambra; Tour
of the Prairies; Abbotsford and Newstead Abbey; Astoria ; Adven-
tures of Captain Bonneville; Life of Goldsmith ; Life of Washington.
SELECTIONS TO READ,
The Student is advised to begin with the Sketch-Book, The follow-
ing are some of the best sketches :
3. The Wife. 2. Rip Van Winkle. 3. Rural Life in England. 4.
The Broken Heart. 5. The Widow and Her Son. 6. The Mutability
of Literature. 7. Westminster Abbey. 8. Christmas. 9. Christmas
|Eve, 10. Christmas Day. 11. The Christmas Dinner. 12. The Pride
of the Village. 13. The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.
After the Sketch-Book the whole or certain chapters of the Life of
Goldsmith may be read, especially in connection with the study of
Goldsmith’s text. Sketches similar to those in the Sketch-Rook may be
found in Bracebridge Hall, Traveller, Crayon Miscellany, and other vol-
umes. Certain chapters in Knickerbocker’s History of New York will
be found very interesting in connection with the study of the Succeed-
ing text, and occasional references have been made to them in the
“Notes.” The Dutch material, thus elaborated in the “ Knicker-
bocker Legend,” is illustrated in several other stories which may be
read in this connection, viz., “Money Diggers ” and “Wolfert Web-
ber,” in The Tales of a Traveller, and “Dolph Heyliger,” in Bracebridge
JHall.
As a help to a better understanding of the text, read two magazine
articles: “A Reminiscence of Sleepy Hollow,” Harper's Mag., Dec.,
1866, vol. 34; and “Sunnyside,” Harper's Mag., Dec., 1856, vol. 14.
NoTE.—Through the courtesy of G. P. Putnam's Sons, the authorized pub-
lishers of Irving's complete works, the editor has been allowed to use the text
of their revised and complete edition of the Sketch-Book.
THE LEGEND OF SILEEPY HOLLOW.
FOUND AMONG THE PAPERS OF THE LATE DIEDRICH
ENICKERBOCKER.*
“Irving's stories of “Rip Van Winkle' and ‘Legend of Sleepy Hol-
low ’ are, perhaps, the finest pieces of Original fictitious writing that
this country has produced, next to the works of Sir Walter Scott.”—
Chambers’s Cy. of Eng. Lit.
“If, in the multiplicity of books and the change of taste the bulk
of Irving’s works shall go out of print, a volume made up of his le-
gends relating to the region of the Hudson, would survive as long as
anything that has been produced in this country.”—Charles Dudley
Q?”726.7°. *
PREFATORY NOTE.
The Sketch-Book is universally recognized as one of our best English
classics. The first sketch was published in this country in May, 1819.
The series was not completed until September, 1820. The work was
written in England and sent to New York, where it was first published
in serial form. The “Legend of Sleepy Hollow ’’ is one of its most
popular sketches. The scene of the story was a spot dear to its
author. As a boy, and still later as a young man, he had explored
every nook and corner of this region afterwards made classic ground
by his graceful pen. The desire expressed in the first part of the
sketch was literally gratified. After the return from his long residence
abroad, he revisited, as he has told us, “the wizard region of Sleepy
Hollow,” and explored with Diedrich Knickerbocker “its spell-bound
recesses.” He bought the Small stone cottage, the home of the Van
Tassels, the “Roost” of the unfortunate Wolfert. This historic
place, renovated and enlarged, still preserving its quaint Dutch char-
* A quaint old Dutch litterateur, a fictitious character, originated by Irving and
assumed by him to be the author of Knickerbocker’s “History of New York.”
Besides the MS. of the history, Diedrich left other papers and documents at
his death ready for publication. He is represented as a small, brisk-lookin
old gentleman, dressed in a rusty black coat, a pair of olive velvet breeches, j
a small cocked hat. For full details, see the “Account of the Author" in the
introductory pages of the “History of New York.”
7
8 THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW.
acteristics, became famous as “Sunnyside,” the bome of Irving's
declining years, and the dearest place on earth to him. The spot was
a little farm on the bank of the river at Tarrytown, close to his old
Sleepy Hollow haunts, one of the loveliest, if not the most piot-
uresque, situations on the Hudson. “Here, then,” said the great
author, “ have I Set up my rest, surrounded by the recollections of
early days, with that glorious river before me, which flows with such
majesty, and which has ever been to me a river of delight.” Irving
never tired of the legends and scenery of the river celebrated by his
pen. “I thank God,” he said, “I was born on the Hudson. It is, in
a manner, my first and last love; and after all my wanderings, I return
to it with a heart-felt preference over all the other rivers in the world.
Though the illusions of youth have faded from the landscape, the rec-
ollections of departed years and departed pleasures shed over it the
mellow charm of evening sunshine.”
When the great author who had told the story of Columbus and
the Alhambra appeared in the theatre at Oxford to take the honorary
degree of D.C.L. from the university, the boisterous undergraduates
shouted their admiration of the shy writer in their cries of “Ichabod
Crane,” “Diedrich Knickerbocker,” “Rip Van Winkle.” The shouts
of the students echoed the verdict of the World. It is not the histo-
rian or biographer but the genial humorist and writer of frolicsome
fancy, the man of genius who created and peopled the humorous
world of the Knickerbockers, who sketched the whimsical portrait of
Ichabod Crane, and outlined the fascinating legend of Rip Van
Winkle, that the world delights to love and honor, and has given a per-
manent place in literature.
“A pleasing land of drowsy head it was,
Of dreams that wave before the half-shut eye;
And of gay castles in the clouds that pass,
For ever flushing round a summer sky.”
CASTLE OF INDOLENCE.
IN the bosom of onc of those spacious coves which indent
the eastern shore of the Hudson, at that broad expansion.of
the river denominated by tº ancient Dutch navigators the
Tappan Zee, and where they always prudently shortened sail,
. 4, Tappan Zee.—The “Mediterranean” of the river, as Irving called it,
is the first and largest expansion of the Hudson. This “sea” is rich in historic
Story, and far more So in romantic association. * ,
THE LEGENID OF SIEEPY HOLLOW. 9
and implored the protection of St. Nicholas when they crossed,
there lies a small market-town or rural port, which by some is
called Greensburgh, but which is more generally and properly
known by the name of Tarry Town. This name was given,
we are told, in former days, by the good housewives of the
adjacent country, from the inveterate propensity of their hus- to
bands to linger about the village tavern on market-days. Be
that as it may, I do not vouch for the fact, but merely advert
to it for the sake of being precise and authentic. Not far
from this village, perhaps about two miles, there is a little
valley, or rather lap of land, among high hills, which is one of
the quietest places in the whole world. A small brook glides
through it, with just murmur enough to lull one to repose;
and the occasional whistle of a quail, or tapping of a wood-
pecker, is almost the only sound that ever breaks in upon the
uniform tranquillity. 2O
I recollect that, when a stripling, my first exploit in squirrel-
shooting was in a grove of tall walnut-trees that shades one
side of the valley. I had wandered into it at noon-time, when
all nature is peculiarly quiet, and was startled by the roar of
my own gun, as it broke the Sabbath stillness around, and was
prolonged and reverberated by the angry echoes. If ever I
should wish for a retreat, whither I might steal from the world
and its distractions, and dream quietly away the remnant of a
troubled life, I know of none more promising than this little
valley.
From the listless repose of the place, and the peculiar char-
Mcter of its inhabitants, who are descendants from the original
Outch settlers, this sequestered glen has long been known by
*—
3C
—r-
5. St. Nicholas.-A highly popular saint. He is regarded as the especial
patron of the young, and particularly-oſ, scholars. The feast of this saint used
* telebrated, in olden times, in England, with solemnity in the great public
SCI10OIS. - - -
8. Tarry Town. —A Dutch village of considerable antiquity, cosily nestled
among the hills on the Hudson, some twenty-five miles from New York. Sleepy
Hollow is situated within its limits.
27. Should wish for a retreat.—Many years after this sketch was
written the wish was literally gratified. Read the * Prefatory Note.”
1% : : • *e e e e :
10 THE LEGEND OF SIEEPY HOLLOW.
the name of SLEEPY Hollow, and its rustic lads are called the
Sleepy Hollow Boys throughout all the neighboring country.
A drowsy, dreamy influence seems to hang over the land, and
to pervade the very atmosphere. Some say that the place was
bewitched by a high German doctor, during the early days of .
the settlement; others, that an old Indian chief, the prophet
4o or wizard of his tribe, held his pow-wows there before the
country was discovered by Master Hendrick Hudson. Certain
it is, the place still continues under the sway of some witching
power, that holds a spell over the minds of the good people,
causing them to walk in a continual reverie. They are given
to all kinds of marvellous beliefs ; are subject to trances and
visions; and frequently see strange sights, and hear music and
voices in the air. The whole neighborhood abounds with local
tales, haunted spots, and twilight superstitions; stars shoot
and meteors glare oftener across the valley than in any other
go part of the country, and the nightmare, with her whole nine-
fold, seems to make it the favorite scene of her gambols.
The dominant spirit, however, that haunts this enchanted
region, and seems to be commander-in-chief of all the powers
of the air, is the apparition of a figure on horseback without a
head. It is said by some to be the ghost of a Hessian trooper,
whose head had been carried away by a cannon-ball, in some
nameless battle during the Revolutionary War, and who is ever
and anon seen by the country folk, hurrying along in the
40. Pow-wows.—Before going on the war-path, at councils, and on va-
rious other occasions, Indians were wont to hold a meeting called a “pow-wow,”
at which there was great noise, dancing, etc.
41. Master Hendrick Hudson-During his second voyage in search of
a north-west passage to India, this celebrated navigator discovered the Hudson
River, in 1609.
50. Nightmare.—[A. S., māhi, night; mara, a nightmare, incubus ; liter-
ally, “a crusher,” from the root mar, to crush.) A dream at night accompanied
with a feeling of pressure on the chest, generally the result of eating indigesti.
ble food. Once called the night-hag or the riding of the witch.
“The witch we call Mara.”—Scott.
“He met the nightmare and her nine fold.”—King Lear.
55. Hessian trooper. — During the war of the Revolution, the British
government hired some 16,000 troops of the German princes to fight in America.
Most of these soldiers came from the province of Hesse-Cassel, and hence were
called Hessians.
:
THE LEGEND OF SIEEPY HOLLOW. 11
gloom of night, as if on the wings of the wind. His haunts
are not confined to the valley, but extend at times to the adja- 6o
cent roads, and especially to the vicinity of a church at no
great distance. Indeed, certain of the most authentic histo-
rians of those parts, who have been careful in collecting and
collating the floating facts concerning this spectre, allege that
the body of the trooper, having been buried in the church-
yard, the ghost rides forth to the scene of battle in nightly
quest of his head; and that the rushing speed with which he
sometimes passes along the Hollow, like a midnight blast, is
owing to his being belated, and in a hurry to get back to the
church-yard before daybreak. 7o
Such is the general purport of this legendary Superstition,
which has furnished materials for many a wild story in that
region of shadows; and the spectre is known, at all the country
firesides, by the name of the Headless Horseman of Sleepy
Hollow.
It is remarkable that the visionary propensity I have men-
tioned is not confined to the native inhabitants of the valley,
but is unconsciously imbibed by every one who resides there
for a time. However wide awake they may have been before
they entered that sleepy region, they are sure, in a little time, 86
to inhale the witching influence of the air, and begin to grow
imaginative, to dream dreams, and See apparitions.
I mention this peaceful spot with all possible laud; for it is
in such little retired Dutch valleys, found here and there em-
bosomed in the great State of New York, that population, man-
hers, and customs remain fixed; while the great torrent of
migration and improvement, which is making such incessant
changes in other parts of this restless country, sweeps by them
unobserved. They are like those little nooks of still water
which border a rapid stream; where we may see the straw and go
bubble riding quietly at anchor, or slowly revolving in their
61, Church.-This old Dutch church, finished in 1699, is still in existence.
Within a stone's throw was the old mill, built in 1686, near the bridge along-
side of which Ichabod Crane disappeared. - - -
• :-
• * *
o
cº
12 THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW.
mimic harbor, undisturbed by the rush of the passing current.
Though many years have elapsed since I trod the drowsy
shades of Sleepy Hollow, yet I question whether I should not
still find the same trees and the same families vegetating in its
sheltered bosom.
In this by-place of nature, there abode, in a remote period
of American history, that is to say, some thirty years since, a
worthy wight of the name of Ichabod Crane, who sojourned,
zoo or, as he expressed it, “tarried,” in Sleepy Hollow, for the
purpose of instructing the children of the vicinity. He was a
native of Connecticut, a State which supplies the Union with
pioneers for the mind as well as for the forest, and sends forth
yearly its legions of frontier woodmen and country school.
masters.
The cognomen of Crane was not inapplicable to his person.
He was tall, but exceedingly lank, with narrow shoulders, long
arms and legs, hands that dangled a mile out of his sleeves,
feet that might have served for shovels, and his whole frame
rio most loosely hung together. His head was small, and flat at
top, with huge ears, large green glassy eyes, and a long Snipe
nose, so that it looked like a weathercock perched upon his
spindle neck, to tell which way the wind blew. To see him
striding along the profile of a hill on a windy day, with his
clothes bagging and fluttering about him, one might have
mistaken him for the genius of famine descending upon the
earth, or some scarecrow eloped from a cornfield.
His school-house was a low building of one large room,
rudely constructed of logs ; the windows partly glazed, and
120 partly patched with leaves of old copy-books. It was most
ingeniously secured at vacant hours by a withe twisted in the
handle of the door, and stakes set against the window-shutters,
so that, though a thief might get in with perfect ease, he would
97. Remote period.—An example of Irving's quiet humor and genial
satire.
106. Cognomen.—(L. con. with ; momen, name.) Surname. Roman families
of position had three names. The cognomen was the last of the three. {
~,
ge *
** *e © Q @ *e
© º ©
© e e
gº º gº © gº
* , en e ©
:
;
THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW. 13
find some embarrassment in getting out; an idea most probably
borrowed by the architect, Yost Van Houten, from the
mystery of an eel-pot. The school-house stood in a rather
lonely but pleasant situation, just at the foot of a woody hill,
with a brook running close by, and a formidable birch-tree
growing at one end of it. From hence the low murmur of his
pupils' voices, conning over their lessons, might be heard in a 130
drowsy summer's day, like the hum of a bee-hive, interrupted
now and then by the authoritative voice of the master, in the
tone of menace or command ; or, peradventure, by the appall-
ing sound of the birch, as he urged some tardy loiterer along
the flowery path of knowledge. Truth to say, he was a con-
scientious man, and ever bore in mind the golden maxim,
“Spare the rod and spoil the child.” Ichabod Crane's
Scholars certainly were not spoiled. -
I would not have it imagined, however, that he was one of
those cruel potentates of the school, who joy in the Smart of 140
their subjects ; on the contrary, he administered justice with
discrimination rather than severity, taking the burthen off the
backs of the weak, and laying it on those of the strong.
Your mere puny stripling, that winced at the least flourish of
the rod, was passed by with indulgence ; but the claims of
justice were satisfied by inflicting a double portion on some
little, tough, wrong-headed, broad-skirted Dutch urchin, who
Sulked, and swelled, and grew dogged and sullen beneath the
birch. All this he called “doing his duty" by their parents;
and he never inflicted a chastisement without following it by 1so
the assurance, so consolatory to the Smarting urchin, that
“he would remember it, and thank him for it the longest day
he had to live.”
When school-hours were over, he was even the companion
126. Eel-pot.—A basket made in a peculiar shape, and used to catch eels.
137. “Spare the rod and spoil the child.”—Cf. Butler's Hudibras
Part ii. C. i. 1, 843.
“Love is a boy by poets styl'd :
Then spare the rod and spoil the child.”
“He that spareth his rod bateth his son.— Prov. xiii. 24.
14 THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY Hollow.
and playmate of the larger boys; and, on holiday afternoons,
Would convoy some of the smaller ones home, who happened
to have pretty sisters or good housewives for mothers noted
for the comforts of the cupboard. Indeed, it behooved him
to keep on good terms with his pupils. The revenue arising
*60 from his school was small and would have been scarcely suffi-
cient to furnish him with daily bread, for he was a huge
feeder, and, though lank, had the dilating powers of an ana-
conda ; but to help out his maintenance, he was, according to
Country custom in those parts, boarded and lodged at the
houses of the farmers, whose children he instructed. With
these he lived successively a week at a time; thus going the
rounds of the neighborhood, with all his worldly effects tied
up in a cotton handkerchief.
That all this might not be too onerous on the purses of his
tºo rustic patrons, who are apt to consider the cost of schooling a
grievous burden, and schoolmasters as mere drones, he had va-
rious ways of rendering himself both useful and agreeable. He
assisted the farmers occasionally in the lighter labors of their
farms; helped to make hay ; mended the fences; took the
horses to water; drove the cows from pasture, and cut wood
for the winter fire. He laid aside, too, all the dominant dig-
nity and absolute sway with which he lorded it in his little
empire, the school, and became wonderfully gentle and ingra-
tiating. He found favor in the eyes of the mothers by pet-
*ting the children, particularly the youngest ; and like the lion
bold, which whilom so magnanimously the lamb did hold, he
166. Going the rounds.—This custom of boarding the school-master
around the neighborhood is still kept up in certain sections of the country.
“Boarding round" was the universal custom in olden times in New England.
172. Useful and agreeable.—Contrast this description of , a country
schoolmaster with the sketch of Goldsmith's village master in the Deserted
TZillage, l. 193; and the college pedagogue described by Whittier in his Snow
JBound.
180. The lion bold, etc.—Allusion is made to the rude couplet in the Wew
Jºngland Prämer, which was placed beside the picture of a lion resting his paw
on a lamb. This served to explain the letter L.
** The Lion bold
The Lamb doth hold.”
181. Whilome-(A. S. whâlon sometime.) Formerly, once, of old.
THE LEGEND OF SIEEPY HOLLOW. 15
would sit with a child on one knee, and rock a cradle with
his foot for whole hours together.
In addition to his other vocations he was the singing-master
of the neighborhood, and picked up many bright shillings by
instructing the young folks in psalmody. It was a matter of
no little vanity to him, on Sundays, to take his station in front
of the church-gallery, with a band of chosen singers, where,
in his own mind, he completely carried away the palm from
the parson. Certain it is, his voice resounded far above all the
rest of the congregation; and there are peculiar quavers still
to be heard in that church, and which may even be heard half
a mile off, quite to the opposite side of the mill-pond, on a
still Sunday morning, which are said to be legitimately de-
scended from the nose of Ichabod Crane. Thus, by divers lit-
tle makeshifts in that ingenious way which is commonly
denominated “by hook and by crook,” the worthy pedagogue
got on tolerably enough, and was thought, by all who under-
stood nothing of the labor of headwork, to have a wonderfully
easy life of it. -
The schoolmaster is generally a man of Some importance in
the female circle of a rural neighborhood; being considered a
kind of idle, gentleman-liké personage, of vastly superior taste
and accomplishments to the rough country Swains, and,
indeed, inferior in learning only to the parson. His appearance,
therefore, is apt to occasion some little stir at the tea-table of
a farm-house, and the addition of a supernumerary dish of
cakes or sweetmeats, or, peradventure, the parade of a silver
tea-pot. Our man of letters, therefore, was peculiarly happy in
the smiles of all the country damsels. How he would figure
among them in the church-yard, between services on Sundays!
gathering grapes for them from the wild vines that overrun
the surrounding trees; reciting for their amusement all the
*—
197. “By hook and by crook.”—Somehow ; in one way or another.
Many suggestions have been ventured in explanation of this, phrase, but none
fire satisfactory. See Brewer's Dicţionary of Phrase and Fable and Edwards's
Words, Facts, and Phrases,
19q
2OO
16 THE LEGENID OF SLEEPY ETOLLOW.
epitaphs on the tombstones; or sauntering with a whole bevy
of them, along the banks of the adjacent mill-pond; while the
more bashful country bumpkins hung sheepishly back, envying
his superior elegance and address.
From his half itinerant life, also, he was a kind of travelling
gazette, carrying the whole budget of local gossip from house to
220 house: so that his appearance was always greeted with Satisfac-
tion. He was, moreover, esteemed by the women as a man of
great erudition, for he had read several books quite through,
and was a perfect master of Cotton Mather's “History of New
England Witchcraft,” in which, by the way, he most firmly
and potently believed.
He was, in fact, an odd mixture of small shrewdness and
simple credulity. His appetite for the marvellous, and his
powers of digesting it were equally extraordinary; and both
had been increased by his residence in this spellbound region.
230 No tale was too gross or monstrous for his capacious Swallow.
It was often his delight, after his school was dismissed in the
afternoon, to stretch himself on the rich bed of clover border-
ing the little brook that whimpered by his school-house, and
there con over old Mather's direful tales, until the gathering
dusk of the evening made the printed page a mere mist before
his eyes. Then, as he wended his way, by swamp and stream,
and awful woodland, to the farm-house where he happened to
be quartered, every sound of nature, at that witching hour,
fluttered his excited imagination; the moan of the whippoor.
240 will from the hill-side; the boding cry of the tree-toad, that
harbinger of storm; the dreary hooting of the screech-owl, or
the sudden rustling in the thicket of birds frightened from
223. Cotton Mather’s “His. of N. E. Witchcraft.”—Cotton Mather
(1663–1728), a profound and industrious scholar and celebrated theologian of
New England, was the author of 382 works, mostly theological. His best
known work was Magnalia Christi Americana, “a bulky thing,” as the author
called it, of 1,300 pages. The work is a mighty chaos of fables and blunders,
discussing almost every question, particularly theology and witchcraft. “It is
never possible, to tell,” says Prof. Moses Coit Tyler, “just where the fiction
ends and the history begins.”. Irving probably had the Magnqlāq in mind;
239. The Whippoorwill is a bird which is only heard at night. It re-
ceives its name from its note, which is thought to resemble those words.
•
THE LEGENID OF SIEEPY HOLLOW. 1?
their roost. The fire-flies, too, which sparkled most vividly
in the darkest places, now and then startled him, as one of
uncommon brightness would stream across his path; and if,
by chance, a huge blockhead of a beetle came winging his
blundering flight against him, the poor varlet was ready to
give up the ghost, with the idea that he was struck with a
witch's token. His only resource on such occasions, either to
drown thought or drive away evil spirits, was to sing psalm- 25o
tunes; and the good people of Sleepy Hollow, as they sat by
their doors of an evening, were often filled with awe, at hear-
ing his nasal melody, “in linked sweetness long drawn out,”
floating from the distant hill, or along the dusky road.
Another of his sources of fearful pleasure was, to pass long
winter evenings with the old Dutch wives, as they sat spin-
ning by the fire, with a row of apples roasting and spluttering
along the hearth, and listen to their marvellous tales of ghosts
and goblins, and haunted fields, and haunted brooks, and
haunted bridges, and haunted houses, and particularly of the 26o
headless horseman, or Galloping Hessian of the Hollow, as
they sometimes called him. He would delight them equally
by his anecdotes of witchcraft, and of the direful omens and
portentous sights and Sounds in the air, which prevailed in the
earlier times of Connecticut; and would frighten them wofully
with speculations upon comets and shooting stars, and with the
alarming fact that the world did absolutely turn round, and that
they were half the time topsy-turvy!
But if there was a pleasure in all this, while snugly cuddling
in the chimney-corner of a chamber that was all of a ruddy glow azo
‘rom the crackling wood-fire, and where, of course, no spectre
dared to show his face, it was dearly purchased by the terrors
of his subsequent walk homewards. What fearful shapes and
shadows beset his path amidst the dim and ghastly glare of a
snowy night!, -With what wistful look did he eye every trem-
*—
253. Linked sweetness.-See Milton’s L’Allegro, l. 140 :-
“Of linked sweetness long drawn out.”
18 THE LEGEND OF SIEEPY HOLLOW.
bling ray of light streaming across the waste fields from Sonie
distant window !— How often was he appalled by Some shrub
covered with snow, which, like a sheeted spectre, beset his very
path!—How often did he shrink with curdling awe at the sound
ago of his own steps on the frosty crust beneath his feet; and dread
to look over his shoulder, lest he should behold some uncouth
being tramping close behind him 1 — and how often was he
thrown into complete dismay by some rushing blast, howling
among the trees, in the idea that it was the Galloping Hessian
On one of his nightly scourings!
All these, however, were mere terrors of the night, phantoms
of the mind that walk in darkness; and though he had seen
many spectres in his time, and been more than once beset by
Satan in divers shapes, in his lonely perambulations, yet day-
296 light put an end to all these evils; and he would have passed
a pleasant life of it, in despite of the devil and all his works, if
his path had not been crossed by a being that causes more per-
plexity to mortal man than ghosts, goblins, and the whole race
of witches put together, and that was—a woman.
Among the musical disciples who assembled, one evening in
each week, to receive his instructions in psalmody, was Katrina
Van Tassel, the daughter and only child of a substantial Dutch
farmer. She was a blooming lass of fresh eighteen; plump as
a partridge; ripe and melting and rosy-cheeked as one of ker
goo father's peaches, and universally famed, not merely for her
beauty, but her vast expectations. She was withal a little
of a coquette, as might be perceived even in her dress, which
was a mixture of ancient and modern fashions, as most suited
to set off her charms. She wore the ornaments of pure yellow
gold, which her great-great-grandmother had brought over
from Saardam; the tempting stomacher of the olden time; and
withal a provokingly short petticoat to display the prettiest
foot and ankle in the country round.
—?
306. Saardam.—A little town in Holland.
306. Stomacher.—Part of the waist of a woman's dress, used as an ornamenk
or support. “Instead of a stomacher a girding of sackcloth.”—Isaiah iii. 24,
THE LEGENID OF SIEEPY HOLLOW, 19
Ichabod Crane had a soft and foolish heart toward the Sex;
and it is not to be wondered at that so tempting a morsel Soon 3ro
found favor in his eyes; more especially after he had visited
her in her paternal mansion. Old Baltus Van Tassel was a
perfect picture of a thriving, contented, liberal-hearted farmer.
He seldom, it is true, sent either his eyes or his thoughts
beyond the boundaries of his own farm; but within those
everything was snug, happy, and well-conditioned. He was
satisfied with his wealth, but not proud of it; and piqued him-
self upon the hearty abundance rather than the style in which
he lived. His stronghold was situated on the banks of the
Hudson, in one of those green, sheltered, fertile nooks in 320
which the Dutch farmers are so fond of nestling. A great
elm-tree spread its broad branches over it; at the foot of which
bubbled up a spring of the softest and sweetest water, in a
little well formed of a barrel; and then stole sparkling away
through the grass, to a neighboring brook, that bubbled along
among alders and dwarf willows. Hard by the farm-house
was a vast barn, that might have served for a church; every
window and crevice of which seemed bursting forth with the
treasures of the farm; the flail was busily resounding within it
from morning till night; swallows and martins skimmed twit-330
tering about the eaves; and rows of pigeons, some with one
eye turned up, as if watching the weather, some with their
heads under their wings, or buried in their bosoms, and others
Swelling, and cooing, and bowing about their dames, were
enjoying the sunshine on the roof. Sleek unwieldy porkers
were grunting in the repose and abundance of their pens;
whence Sallied forth, now and then, troops of sucking pigs,
as if to snuff the air. A stately squadron of snowy geese were
riding in an adjoining pond, convoying whole fleets of ducks;
regiments of turkeys were gobbling through the farm-yard, 340
319. Stronghold.—Van Tassel's stronghold is supposed to be the same
cottage which iš, bought for a residence, and became known as “Sunny-
side,”, Irving describes it as “a little old-fashioned stone mansion, all made up
of gable ends, and as full of angles and corners as an old cocked hat.”
20 THE LEGEND OF SIEEPY Hollow.
and guinea fowls fretting about it, like ill-tempered house-
wives, with their peevish, discontented cry. Before the barn-
door strutted the gallant cock, that pattern of a husband, a
warrior, and a fine gentleman, clapping his burnished wings,
and crowing in the pride and gladness of his heart—sometimes
tearing up the earth with his feet, and then generously calling
his ever-hungry family of wives and children to enjoy the rich
morsel which he had discovered.
The pedagogue's mouth watered, as he looked upon this
350 sumptuous promise of luxurious winter fare. In his devouring
mind's eye he pictured to himself every roasting-pig running
about with a pudding in his belly, and an apple in his mouth;
the pigeons were Snugly put to bed in a comfortable pie, and
tucked in with a coverlet of crust; the geese were swimming
in their own gravy; and the ducks pairing cozily in dishes,
like Snug married couples, with a decent competency of onion-
sauce. In the porkers he saw carved out the future sleek side.
of bacon, and juicy relishing ham; not a turkey but he beheld
daintily trussed up, with its gizzard under its wing, and, per-
860 adventure a necklace of savory sausages; and even bright
chanticleer himself lay sprawling on his back, in a side-dish,
with uplifted claws, as if craving that quarter which his chiv-
alrous spirit disdained to ask while living.
As the enraptured Ichabod fancied all this, and as he rolled
his great green eyes over the fat meadow-lands, the rich fields
of wheat, of rye, of buckwheat, and Indian corn, and the
orchard burthened with ruddy fruit, which surrounded the
warm tenement of Van Tassel, his heart yearned after the
damsel who was to inherit these domains, and his imagination
370 expanded with the idea how they might be readily turned into
cash, and the money invested in immense tracts of wild land,
and shingle palaces in the wilderness.
351. Mind’s eye.—Cf. “In my mind's eye, Horatio.”—Hamlet T. Sc. 2.
352. Pudding in his belly.—“That roasted Manningtree ox with the
pudding in his belly.”—Shak. I. Hen. IV., II. 4.
359. Gizzard.—(Fr. Gésier.) The strong, muscular stomach of a fowl.
THE LEGENID OF SIEEPY HOLLOW. 21
Nay, his busy fancy already realized his hopes, and presented
to him the blooming Katrina, with a whole family of children,
mounted on the top of a wagon loaded with household trump-
ery, with pots and kettles dangling beneath; and he beheld
himself bestriding a pacing mare, with a colt at her heels,
setting out for Kentucky, Tennessee, or the Lord knows where.
When he entered the house, the conquest of his heart was
complete. It was one of those spacious farm-houses, with 380
high-ridged, but lowly-sloping roofs, built in the style handed
down from the first Dutch settlers; the low projecting eaves
forming a piazza along the front, capable of being closed up
in bad weather. Under this were hung flails, harness, various
utensils of husbandry, and nets for fishing in the neighboring
river. Benches were built along the sides for summer use;
and a great spinning-wheel at one end, and a churn at the
other, showed the various uses to which this important porch.
might be devoted. From this piazza the wondering Ichabod
entered the hall, which formed the centre of the mansion and 39s
the place of usual residence. Here, rows of resplendent pew-
ter, ranged on a long dresser, dazzled his eyes. In one corner
stood a huge bag of wool ready to be spun; in another a quan-
tity of linsey-woolsey just from the loom; ears of Indian corn
and strings of dried apples and peaches, hung in gay festoons
along the walls, mingled with the gaud of red peppers; and a
door left ajar gave him a peep into the best parlor, where the
claw-footed chairs and dark mahogany tables shone like mir-
rors; and irons, with their accompanying shovel and tongs,
glistened from their covert of asparagus tops; mock-oranges.
378. Setting out for Kentucky.—At this time these States were in the
remote West.
392, Dresser.—An old-time article of kitchen furniture, somewhat resem-
bling the modern side-board, on which the table dishes were arranged.
394. Linsey-woolsey.—Cloth made of linen and wool from which home-
Spun garments were made.
396. Gaud [Lat. gaudium, gladness, joy).-Show. ornament. Also spelt
gawd in Shakespeare. * *
400. Asparagus tops.-Commonly used to ornament the old-fashioned fire-
place in summer. - -
400. Mock oranges.—A species of gourds, of various colors, shaped like
Oranges, commonly used as household ornaments.
22 THE LEGEND OF STEEPY HOLLOW.
and conch shells decorated the mantel-piece; strings of various
colored bird's eggs were suspended above it; a great Ostrich
egg was hung from the centre of the room, and a corner-cup-
board knowingly left open, displayed immense treasures of old
silver and well-mended china. -
From the moment Ichabod laid his eyes upon these regions of
delight, the peace of his mind was at an end, and his only study
was how to gain the affections of the peerless daughter of
Wan Tassel.
aro In this enterprise, however, he had more real difficulties than
generally fell to the lot of a knight-errant of yore, who seldom
had anything but giants, enchanters, fiery dragons, and such
like easily conquered adversaries, to contend with; and had to
make his way merely through gates of iron and brass, and walls
of adamant, to the castle-keep, where the lady of his heart was
confined; all which he achieved as easily as a man would carve
his way to the centre of a Christmas pie ; and then the lady
gave him her hand as a matter of course. Ichabod, on the
contrary, had to win his way to the heart of a country coquette,
420 beset with a labyrinth of whims and caprices, which were
forever presenting new difficulties and impediments; and he
had to encounter a host of fearful adversaries of real flesh and
blood, the numerous rustic admirers, who beset every portal to
her heart; keeping a watchful and angry eye upon each other,
but ready to fly out in the common cause against any new
competitor. -
Among these the most formidable was a burly, roaring,
roistering blade, of the name of Abraham, or, according to
the Dutch abbreviation, Brom Van Brunt, the hero of the
430 country round, which rang with his feats of strength and
404, Old silver, etc.—For additional details of the furniture of a well-to-dg
Dutch farmhouse, see Irving's Knäckerbocker’s Histor º York.
411. Knight-errarat [A. S. cnight, boy, Servant; Eng. knight a soldier
Who, fought on horseback; errant, Lat. errare to wanderſ: A soldier who traw.
elled to exhibit his prowess or military skill.
415. Castle-keepe—The castle dungeon, used as a prlson for captives or as
& place of last defence.
THE LEGEND OF Sí FEPY HOLLOW. 23
hardihood. He was broad-shouldered, and double-jointed,
with short curly black hair, and a bluff but not unpleasant
countenance, having a mingled air of fun and arrogance. From
his Herculean frame and great powers of limb, he had received
the nickname of BROM BONES, by which he was universally
known. He was famed for great knowledge and skill in
horsemanship, being as dexterous on horseback as a Tartar. He
was foremost at all the races and cockfights ; and, with the
ascendency which bodily strength acquires in rustic life, was
the umpire in all disputes, setting his hat on one side, and 44.
giving his decisions with an air and tone admitting of no gain-
say or appeal. He was always ready for either a fight or a frolic;
but had more mischief than ill-will in his composition; and, with
all his overbearing roughness, there was a strong dash of wag-
gish good-humor at bottom. He had three or four boon com-
panions, who regarded him as their model, and at the head of
whom he scoured the country, attending every scene of feud or
merriment for miles round. In cold weather he was distin-
guished by a fur cap, surmounted with a flaunting fox's tail;
and when the folks at a country gathering descried this well-4s.
known crest at a distance, whisking about armo, g a squad of
hard riders, they always stood by for a squall. Sometimes his
crew would be heard dashing along past the farm-houses at
midnight, with whoop and halloo, like a troop of Don Cossacks;
and the old dames, startled out of their sleep, would listen for
a moment till the hurry-scurry had clattered by and then ex-
claim, “Ay, there goes Brom Bones and his gang!” The
neighbors looked upon him with a mixture of awe, admiration
and good-will; and when any mad-cap prank, or rustic brawl,
434. Herculean.—Hercules, one of the most celebrated heroes of Greek
legends, was famous for his great strength and incredible feats, ->
43%. Tartar.—The Tartars, inhabitants of Tartary, once a large province in
Central Asia, were noted for their horsemanship. -
454. Don Cossacks.-The Don Cossacks belonged to one of the great branches
of the Cossack people, inhabiting a vast fertile plain on the River Don. They
are noted for their skilful and daring horsemanship. The Cossacks furnish a
large and valuable contingent of light cavalry to the Russian army.
24. THE LEGEND OF STEEPY HOLLOW.
460 occurred in the vicinity, always shook their heads, and war.
ranted Brom Bones was at the bottom of it.
This rantipole hero had for some time singled out the bloom-
ing Katrina for the object of his uncouth gallantries; and
though his amorous toyings were something like the gentle
caresses and endearments of a bear, yet it was whispered that
she did not altogether discourage his hopes. Certain it is,
his advances were signals for rival candidates to retire, who
felt no inclination to cross a lion in his amours ; insomuch,
that, when his horse was seen tied to Wan Tassel's paling on
470 a Sunday night, a sure sign that his master was courting, or,
as it is termed, “sparking,” within, all other suitors passed by .
in despair, and carried the war into other quarters.
Such was the formidable rival with whom Ichabod Crane
had to contend, and, considering all things, a stouter man
than he would have shrunk from the competition, and a wiser
man would have despaired. He had, however, a happy mixture
of pliability and perseverance in his nature; he was in form and
spirit like a supple-jack—yielding, but tough; though he bent,
he never broke; and though he bowed beneath the slightest
48o pressure, yet, the moment it was away—jerk! he was as erect,
and carried his head as high as ever.
To have taken the field openly against his rival would have
been madness; for he was not a man to be thwarted in his
amours, any more than that stormy lover, Achilles. Ichabod,
therefore, made his advances in a quiet and gently insinuating
manner. Under cover of his character of singing-master, he
had made frequent visits at the farm-house; not that he had
anything to apprehend from the meddlesome interference of
parents, which is so often a stumbling-block in the path of
.462. Rantipole.—A wild, harum-scarum fellow, a mad-cap. One of the
Inicknames given to Napoleon III. - -
“Dick, be a little rantipolish.”—Colman's Héðr-at-Law. *
478. Supple-jack. —The popular name of a tough and flexible Southern
vine, often used for walking-sticks.
484. Achilles.—The hero of Homer's Iliad; one of the bravest of the Greek
warriors who took part in the siege of Troy.
THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW. 25
lovers. Balt Wan Tassel was an easy, indulgent soul; he 490
loved his daughter better even than his pipe, and, like a rea-
sonable man and an excellent father, let her have her way in
everything. His notable little wife, too, had enough to do to
attend to her housekeeping and manage her poultry; for, as
she sagely observed, ducks and geese are foolish things, and
must be looked after, but girls can take care of themselves.
Thus while the busy dame bustled about the house, or plied
her spinning-wheel at one end of the piazza, honest Balt would
sit smoking his evening pipe at the other, watching the achieve-
ments of a little wooden warrior, who, armed with a sword in 5oo
each hand, was most valiantly fighting the wind on the pin-
nacle of the barn. In the meantime, Ichabod would carry on
his suit with the daughter by the side of the spring under
the great elm, or Sauntering along in the twilight, that hour
So favorable to the lover's eloquence.
I profess not to know how women’s hearts are wooed and
won. To me they have always been matters of riddle and
admiration. Some seem to have but one vulnerable point, or
door of access, while others have a thousand avenues, and may
be captured in a thousand different ways. It is a great tri- 5ro
umph of skill to gain the former, but a still greater proof of
generalship to maintain possession of the latter, for the man
must battle for his fortress at every door and window. He
who wins a thousand common hearts is therefore entitled to
some renown; but he who keeps undisputed sway over the
heart of a coquette, is indeed a hero. Certain it is, this was
mot the case with the redoubtable Brom Bones; and from the
moment Ichabod Crane made his advances, the interests of the
former evidently declined; his horse was no longer seen tied
at the palings on Sunday nights, and a deadly feud gradually 520
arose between him and the preceptor of Sleepy Hollow.
Brom, who had a good deal of rough chivalry in his nature,
would fain have carried matters to open warfare, and have
settled their pretensions to the lady according to the mode of
2
26 THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW.
those most concise and simple reasoners, the knights-errant of
yore–-by single combat; but Ichabod was too conscious of the
superior might of his adversary to enter the lists against him:
he had overheard a boast of Bones, that he would “double
the schoolmaster up, and lay him on a shelf of his own School-
530 house;” and he was too wary to give him an opportunity.
There was something extremely provoking in this obstinately
pacific system; it left Brom no alternative but to draw upon
the funds of rustic waggery in his disposition, and to play off
boorish practical jokes upon his rival. Ichabod became the
object of whimsical persecution to Bones and his gang of
rough-riders. ' They harried his hitherto peaceful domains;
smoked out his singing-school, by stopping up the chimney;
broke into the school-house at night, in spite of its formidable
fastenings of withe and window-stakes, and turned everything
54o topsy-turvy : So that the poor Schoolmaster began to think
all the witches in the country held their meetings there. But
what was still more annoying, Brom took opportunities of
turning him into ridicule in presence of his mistress, and had
a scoundrel dog whom he taught to whine in the most ludicrous
manner, and introduced as a rival of Ichabod’s to instruct her
in psalmody.
In this way matters went on for some time, without pro-
ducing any material effect on the relative situation of the con-
tending powers. On a fine autumnal afternoon, Ichabod, in
550 pensive mood, sat enthroned on the lofty stool whence he
usually watched all the concerns of his little literary realm. In
his hand he swayed a ferule, that sceptre of despotic power;
the birch of justice reposed on three nails, behind the throne,
a constant terror to evil-doers; while on the desk before him
might be seen Sundry contraband articles and prohibited
weapons, detected upon the persons of idle urchins; such as
half-munched apples, popguns, whirligigs, fly-cages, and whole
legions of rampant little paper game-cocks. Apparently there
536. Harried [Fr. harrier, to vex].-Harassed, vexed.
THE LEGEND OF SIEEPY EIOLLOW. 27
had been some appalling act of justice recently inflicted, for
his scholars were all busily intent upon their books, or slily sée
whispering behind them with one eye kept upon the master;
and a kind of buzzing stillness reigned throughout the school-
room. It was suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a
negro, in tow-cloth jacket and trousers, a round-crowned frag-
ment of a liat, like the cap of Mercury, and mounted on the
back of a ragged, wild, half-broken colt, which he managed
with a rope by way of halter. He came clattering up to the
school-door with an invitation to Ichabod to attend a merry-
making or “quilting frolic,” to be held that evening at Myn-
heer Wan Tassel's; and having delivered his message with that 570
air of importance, and effort at fine language, which a negro
is apt to display on petty embassies of the kind, he dashed
over the brook, and was seen Scampering away up the Hollow,
full of the importance and hurry of his mission.
All was now bustle and hubbub in the late quiet school-room.
The scholars were hurried through their lessons, without stop-
ping at trifles; those who were nimble skipped over half with
impunity, and those who were tardy had a smart application
now and then in the rear, to quicken their speed, or help them
over a tall word. Books were flung aside without being put 58a
away on the shelves, inkstands were overturned, benches
thrown down, and the whole School was turned loose an hour
before the usual time, bursting forth like a legion of young
imps, yelping and racketing about the green, in joy at their
early emancipation.
The gallant Ichabod now spent at least an extra half-hour
at his toilet, brushing and furbishing up his best and indeed
only suit of rusty black, and arranging his locks by a bit of
565. Mercury.—The common name of Hermes, the messenger of the gods.
569. Quilting frolic.—An old-time merry-making. The women were in-
viſed in the afternoon to “quilt”; towards night the men came to tea, after
which followed games, dancing, gossip, etc. . The “apple bee '' and “husking-
bee” were similar merry-makings. Says Irving : “Now were instituted ‘quilt-
ing-bees,” and “husking-bees,” and other rural assemblages, where, under the in-
spiring influence of the fiddle, toil was enlivened by gayety and followed up by
the dance.”—History of New York, Book VII. Chap. 2.
28 THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW.
broken looking-glass, that hung up in the school-house. That
590 he might make his appearance before his mistress in the true
style of a cavalier, he borrowed a horse from the farmer with
whom he was domiciliated, a choleric old Dutchman of the
name of Hans Van Ripper, and, thus gallantly mounted, issued
forth, like a knight-errant in quest of adventures. But it is
meet I should, in the true spirit of romantic story, give some
account of the looks and equipments of my hero and his steed.
The animal he bestrode was a broken-down plough-horse, that
had outlived almost everything but his viciousness. He was
gaunt and shagged, with a ewe neck and a head like a ham-
goomer; his rusty mane and tail were tangled and knotted with
burrs; one eye had lost its pupil, and was glaring and spectral;
but the other had the gleam of a genuine devil in it. Still he
must have had fire and mettle in his day, if we may judge from
the name he bore of Gunpowder. He had, in fact, been a
favorite steed of his master's, the choleric Van Ripper, who
was a furious rider, and had infused, very probably, some of
his own spirit into the animal; for, old and broken-down as
he looked, there was more of the lurking devil in him than in
any young filly in the country.
gro Ichabod was a suitable figure for such a steed. He rode with
short stirrups, which brought his knees nearly up to the pom-
mel of the saddle; his sharp elbows stuck out like grasshop-
pers'; he carried his whip perpendicularly in his hand, like a
sceptre, and, as his horse jogged on, the motion of his arms
was not unlike the flapping of a pair of wings. A small wool
hat rested on the top of his nose, for so his scanty strip of fore-
head might be called; and the skirts of his black coat fluttered
out almost to the horse's tail. Such was the appearance of
Ichabod and his steed, as they shambled out of the gate of
62o Hans Van Ripper, and it was altogether such an apparition as
is seldom to be met with in broad daylight.
It was, as I have said, a fine autumnal day, the sky was clear
609. Filly.—A young mare.
TETE IEGENID OF STEEPY HOLLOW. 29
and serene, and nature wore that rich and golden livery which
we always associate with the idea of abundance. The forests
had put on their sober brown and yellow, while some trees of
the tenderer kind had been nipped by the frosts into brilliant
dyes of orange, purple, and scarlet. Streaming files of wild
ducks began to make their appearance high in the air; the
bark of the squirrel might be heard from the groves of beech
and hickory nuts, and the pensive whistle of the quail at 630
intervals from the neighboring stubble-field.
The Small birds were taking their farewell banquets. In the
fulness of their revelry, they fluttered, chirping and frolicking,
from bush to bush, and tree to tree, capricious from the very
profusion and variety around them. There was the honest
cock-robin, the favorite game of stripling sportsmen, with its
loud querulous notes; and the twittering blackbirds flying in
Sable clouds; and the golden-winged woodpecker, with his
crimson crest, his broad black gorget, and splendid plumage;
and the cedar-bird, with its red-tipt wings and yellow-tipt tail, go
and its little monteiro cap of feathers; and the blue jay, that
noisy coxcomb, in his gay light-blue coat and white under-
clothes, Screaming and chattering, nodding and bobbing and
bowing, and pretending to be on good terms with every song-
ster of the grove.
As Ichabod jogged slowly on his way, his eye, ever open to
every symptom of culinary abundance, ranged with delight
over the treasures of jolly autumn. On all sides he beheld vast
stores of apples; Some hanging in oppressive opulence on the
trees; some gathered into baskets and barrels for the market; 6so
others heaped up in rich piles for the cider-press. Farther on
he beheld great fields of Indian corn, with its golden ears
peeping from their leafy coverts, and holding out the promise
639. Gorget [Fr. gorge, the throat; garget, the throat, in Chaucer].—The
gorget was that part of ancient armor which defended the neck. Also a Cres-
cent-shaped ornament formerly worn by military officers on the breast. .
d . Monteiro.—Fancy-colored, jaunty. Derivation of the Word is in Some
oubt.
C - ge
© * >
© º •e •
:
30 THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY Hollow.
of cakes and hasty-pudding; and the yellow pumpkins lying
beneath them, turning up their round bellies to the sun, and
giving ample prospects of the most luxurious of pies; and anon
he passed the fragrant buckwheat fields, breathing the odor of
the bee-hive, and as he beheld them, soft anticipations stole
over his mind of dainty slapjacks, well buttered and garnished
660 with honey or treacle, by the delicate little dimpled hand of
Katrina Wan Tassel.
*Thus feeding his mind with many sweet thoughts and
“Sugared suppositions,” he journeyed along the sides of a range
of hills which look out upon some of the goodliest scenes-of-
the mighty Hudson. The sun gradually wheeled his broad
disk down into the west. The wide bosom of the Tappan Zee
lay motionless and glassy, excepting that here and there a
gentle undulation waved and prolonged the blue shadow of the
distant mountain. A few amber clouds floated in the sky,
670 without a breath of air to move them. The horizon was of a
fine golden tint, changing gradually into a pure apple-green,
and from that into the deep blue of the mid-heaven. A slanting
ray lingered on the woody crests of the precipices that over-
hung some parts of the river, giving greater depth to the dark-
gray and purple of their rocky sides. A sloop was loitering in
the distance, dropping slowly down with the tide, her sail
hanging uselessly against the mast; and as the reflection of the
sky gleamed along the still water, it seemed as if the vessel
was suspended in the air.” i
68o It was toward evening when Ichabod arrived at the castle of
the Heer Van Tassel, which he found thronged with the pride
and flower of the adjacent country. Old farmers, a spare
leathern-faced race, in homespun coats and breeches, blue stock-
ings, huge shoes, and magnificent pewter buckles. Their brisk
withered little dames, in close crimped caps, long-waisted
660. Treacle.—The syrup drained from sugar in making it. Molasses.
Literally, means an antidote against the bite of wild beasts. Tržacle, a sovereign
remedy, commonly used in Middle English. - *
THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY Hollow. 31
ti.
short gowns, homespun petticoats, with scissors and pin-
cushions, and gay calico pockets hanging on the outside.
Buxom lasses, almost as antiquated as their mothers, except-
ing where a straw hat, a fine ribbon, or perhaps a white frock,
gave symptoms of city innovation. The sons, in short Square- 69.
skirted coats with rows of stupendous brass buttons, and their
hair generally queued in the fashion of the times, especially if
they could procure an eel-skin for the purpose, it being esteemed,
throughout the country, as a potent nourisher and strengthener
of the hair.
- Brom Bones, however, was the hero of the scene, having
come to the gathering on his favorite steed, Dare-devil, a creat-
ure, like himself, full of mettle and mischief, and which no
one but himself could manage. He was, in fact, noted for
preferring vicious animals, given to all kinds of tricks, which 7°
kept the rider in constant risk of his neck, for he held a tract-
able well-broken horse as unworthy of a lad of spirit.
* Fain would I pause to dwell upon the world of charms that
burst upon the enraptured gaze of my hero, as he entered the
state parlor of Van Tassel's mansion. Not those of the bevy
of buxom lasses, with their luxurious display of red and white;
but the ample charms of a genuine Dutch country tea-table,
in the sumptuous time of autumn. Such heaped-up platters
of cakes of various and almost indescribable kinds, known only
to experienced Dutch housewives! There was the doughty 7ta
doughnut, the tenderer oly koek, and the crisp and crumbling
cruller; Sweet cakes and short cakes, ginger-cakes and honey-
cakes, and the whole family of cakes. And then there were
apple-pies and peach-pies and pumpkin pies; besides slices of
ham and Smoked beef; and moreover delectable dishes of pre-
served plums, and peaches, and pears, and quinces; not to
686. With scissors and pincushions.—For more details of the quaint
º: of dress among the Dutch people, see Irving's Hāsā, Qf W. Y. BR. III.
C
7:1. oly Koek (Dutch olie koek, oil cake]. Cakes, like doughnuts and
crullers, fried in lard.
:
:
e e
e G
O
32 THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW.
º
mention broiled shad and roasted chickens; together with bowls
of milk and cream, all mingled higgledy-piggledy, pretty much
as I have enumerated them, with the motherly tea-pot sending
yao up its clouds of vapor from the midst—Heaven, bless the
mark! I want breath and time to discuss this banquet as it
deserves, and am too eager to get on with my story. Happily,
Ichabod Crane was not in so great a hurry as his historian, but
did ample justice to every dainty.ſ -
He was a kind and thankful creature, whose heart dilated
in proportion as his skin was filled with good cheer; and whose
spirits rose with eating as some men's do with drink. He
could not help, too, rolling his large eyes round him as
he ate, and chuckling with the possibility that he might one
730 day be lord of all this scene of almost unimaginable luxury
and splendor. Then, he thought, how soon he'd turn his back
upon the old school-house ; snap his fingers in the face of
Hans Van Ripper, and every other niggarly patron, and kick
any itinerant pedagogue out-of-doors that should dare to call
him comrade. -
Old Baltus Van Tassel moved about among his guests with
a face dilated with content and good-humor, round and jolly
as the harvest moon. His hospitable attentions were brief, but
expressive, being confined to a shake of the hand, a slap on
24o the shoulder, a loud laugh, and a pressing invitation to “fall
to, and help themselves.”
And now the sound of the music from the common room,
or hall, summoned to the dance. The musician was an old
gray-headed negro, who had been the itinerant orchestra of
the neighborhood for more than half a century. His instru-
ment was as old and battered as himself. The greater part of
the time he scraped on two or three strings, accompanying
every movement of the bow with a motion of the head; bowing
*
718. Higgledy-piggledy.—Take notice of the numerous colloquial and
familiar phrases used by Irving in his, easy style of writing, as “higgledy-
pigg!gdy,” “ topsy-turvy,” “ aiihoilow,” tº by hook and by crook,” etc. -
:::: *:::": ; : --
• * > • *e" ". ©
THE LEGEND OF SIEEPY HOLLOW. 33
almost to the ground and stamping with his foot whenever a
fresh couple were to start. 750
Tchabod prided himself upon his dancing as much as upon
his vocal powers. Not a limb, not a fibre about him was idle;
and to have seen his loosely hung frame in full motion, and
clattering about the room, you would have thought Saint Vitus
himself, that blessed patron of the dance, was figuring before
you in person. He was the admiration of all the negroes;
who, having gathered, of all ages and sizes, from the farm and
the neighborhood, stood forming a pyramid of shining black
faces at every door and window, gazing with delight at the
scene, rolling their white eyeballs, and showing grinning rows 26,
of ivory from ear to ear. How could the flogger of urchins be
otherwise than animated and joyous 2 the lady of his heart
was his partner in the dance, and smiling graciously in reply
to all his amorous oglings; while Brom Bones, Sorely smitten
with love and jealousy, sat brooding by himself in one corner.
When the dance was at an end, Ichabod was attracted to a
knot of the Sager folks, who, with old Wan Tassel, sat Smoking
at one end of the piazza, gossiping over former times, and
drawing out long stories about the war.
This neighborhood, at the time of which I am speaking, zz,
was one of those highly favored places which abound with
chronicle and great men. The British and American line had
run near it during the war; it had, therefore, been the scene of
marauding, and infested with refugees, cow-boys, and all kinds
of border chivalry. Just sufficient time had elapsed to enable
each story teller to dress up his tale with a little becoming
754. St. Vitus.—Sometimes held to be the patron saint of the dance. He
was supposed to have control over nervous and hysterical affections. Hence his
power was invoked against the nervous disease, marked by irregular and invol-
; movements of the muscles, called chorea, or more commonly, St. Vitus’s
3.11Ce.
774. Cow-boys.—A gang of plunderers infesting the neutral ground lying
between the British and American lines during the War of the Revolution. In
the second volume of his “Life of Washington,” Irving gives a detailed and
graphic account of the troubles and trials of this portion of the river during the
Revolution.
2%
:
:
©
©
34 THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY Hollow.
fiction, and, in the indistinctness of his recollection, to make
himself the hero of every exploit.
There was the story of Doffue Martling, a large, blue-bearded
28o Dutchman, who had nearly taken a British frigate with an old
iron nine-pounder from a mud breastwork, only that his gun
15urst at the sixth discharge. And there was an old gentleman
who shall be nameless, being too rich a mynheer to be lightly
mentioned, who, in the battle of White-Plains, being an excellent
master of defence, parried a musket-ball with a small sword,
insomuch that he absolutely felt it whiz round the blade, and
glance off at the hilt; in proof of which he was ready at any
time to show the sword, with the hilt a little bent. There
were several more that had been equally great in the field, not
790 one of whom but was persuaded that he had a considerable
hand in bringing the war to a happy termination.
But all these were as nothing to the tales of ghosts and appa
ritions that succeeded. The neighborhood is rich in legendary
treasures of the kind. Local tales and superstitions thrive best
in these sheltered long-settled retreats, but are trampled under
foot by the shifting throng that forms the population of most
of our country places. Besides, there is no encouragement for
ghosts in most of our villages, for they have scarcely had time
to finish their first map, and turn themselves in their graves,
8oo before their surviving friends have travelled away from the
neighborhood; so that when they turn out at night to walk
their rounds, they have no acquaintance left to call upon. This
is perhaps the reason why we so seldom hear of ghosts, except
in our long-established Dutch communities.
The immediate cause, however, of the prevalence of super-
natural stories in these parts was doubtless owing to the
vicinity of Sleepy Hollow. There was a contagion in the very
air that blew from that haunted region; it breathed forth an
tº
tº
e
º
&
M% Myaneer [Ger. mein, my ; herr, a lord, sir.].—A Dutch word meaning
T. Or Slr.
784. White-Plains.—A battle of little advantage to the Americans was
:fºught.here is 1:76.
THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOT.LOW. 35
atmosphere of dreams and fancies infecting all the land. Sev-
eral of the Sleepy Hollow people were present at Wan Tassel's, 3rd
and, as usual, were doling out their wild and wonderful
legends. Many dismal tales were told about funeral trains,
and mourning cries and wailings heard and seen about the
great tree where the unfortunate Major André was taken, and
which stood in the neighborhood. Some mention was made
also of the woman in white, that haunted the dark glen at
Raven Rock, and was often heard to shriek on winter nights
before a storm, having perished there in the snow. The chief
part of the stories, however, turned upon the favorite spectre
of Sleepy Hollow, the headless horseman, who had been heard 82a
several times of late, patrolling the country; and, it was said,
tethered his horse nightly among the graves in the churchyard.
The sequestered situation of this church seems always to
have made it a favorite haunt of troubled spirits. It stands
on a knoll, surrounded by locust-trees and lofty elms, from
among which its decent whitewashed walls shine modestly
forth, like Christian purity beaming through the shades of
retirement. A gentle slope descends from it to a silver sheet
of water, bordered by high trees, between which peeps may
be caught at the blue hills of the Hudson. To look upon its 83d
grass-grown yard, where the Sunbeams seem to sleep so quietly,
one would think that there at least the dead might rest in
peace. On one side of the church extends a wide woody dell,
along which raves a large brook among broken rocks and
trunks of fallen trees. Over a deep black part of the stream,
not far from the church, was formerly thrown a wooden bridge;
the road that led to it, and the bridge itself, were thickly
shaded by overhanging trees, which cast a gloom about it,
even in the day time, but occasioned a fearful darkness at
814. Major André.—This brave but unfortunate British officer was capt-
ured by three patriots in this neighborhood while carrying despatches from the
traitor, Benedict Arnold, to the British general, Sir Henry Clinton, André was
kanged as a spy, and his body buried beneath the gallows. Read details of this
\nteresting topic in some history of the United States.
36 THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW.
8to night. This was one of the favorite haunts of the headless
horseman; and the place where he was most frequently en-
countered. The tale was told of old Brouwer, a most heretical
disbeliever in ghosts, how he met the horseman returning from
his foray into Sleepy Hollow, and was obliged to get up behind
him; how they galloped over bush and brake, over hill and
swamp, until they reached the bridge; when the horseman
suddenly turned into a skeleton, threw old Brouwer into the
brook, and sprang away over the tree-tops with a clap of
thunder.
850 This story was immediately matched by a thrice marvellous
adventure of Brom Bones, who made light of the galloping
Hessian as an arrant jockey. He affirmed that, on returning
one night from the neighboring village of Sing Sing, he had
been overtaken by this midnight trooper; that he had offered
to race with him for a bowl of punch, and should have won it
too, for Dare-devil beat the goblin horse all hollow, but, just
as they came to the church-bridge, the Hessian bolted, and
vanished in a flash of fire.
All these tales, told in that drowsy undertone with which
360 men talk in the dark, the countenances of the listeners only
now and then receiving a casual gleam from the glare of a pipe,
sank deep in the mind of Ichabod. He repaid them in kind
with large extracts from his invaluable author, Cotton Mather,
and added many marvellous events that had taken place in his
native State of Connecticut, and fearful sights which he had seen
in his nightly walks about the Sleepy Hollow.
The revel now gradually broke up. The old farmers gathered
together their families in their wagons, and were heard for some
time rattling along the hollow roads, and over the distant hills.
Bro Some of the damsels mounted on pillions behind their favorite
swains, and their light-hearted laughter, mingling with the
clatter of hoofs, echoed along the silent woodlands, sounding
. . 870. Pillions.—A cushion for a woman to ride on behind a perSon ori horse-
back. Rarely used to-day.
THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW. 37
fainter and fainter until they gradually died away—and the
late scene of noise and frolic was all silent and deserted.
Ichabod only lingered behind, according to the custom of
country lovers, to have a tête-à-téte with the heiress, fully con-
vinced that he was now on the high road to success. What
passed at this interview I will not pretend to say, for in
"act I do not know. Something, however, I fear me, must
nave gone wrong, for he certainly Sallied forth, after no very 88o
great interval, with an air quite desolate and chopfallen.—Oh,
these women these women I Could that girl have been play-
ing off any of her coquettish tricks 3– Was her encouragement
of the poor pedagogue all a mere sham to secure her conquest
of his rival 2–Heaven only knows, not II — Let it suffice to say,
Ichabod stole forth with the air of one who had been sacking
a hen-roost rather than a fair lady's heart. Without looking
to the right or left to notice the scene of rural wealth on which
he had so often gloated, he went straight to the stable, and with
several hearty cuffs and kicks, roused his steed most uncourt- 890
eously from the comfortable quarters in which he was soundly
sleeping, dreaming of mountains of corn and oats, and whole
valleys of timothy and clover.
*It was the very witching time of night that Ichabod, heavy-
hearted and crestfallen, pursued his travel homeward, along
the sides of the lofty hills which rise above Tarry Town, and
which he had traversed so cheerily in the afternoon. The hour
was as dismal as himself. Far below him, the Tappan Zee
spread its dusky and indistinct waste of waters, with here and
there the tall mast of a sloop riding quietly at anchor under goo
the land. In the dead hush of midnight he could even hear
876. Tête-à-Téte.—Literally, head to head. A familiar conversation, a
cosy talk, a confidential interview.
892. Timothy. — A' name commonly given to a species of graSS. One
Timothy Hanson is said to have carried the grass to England, and hence gave
rise to the name.
894. Witching time of might.—Cf. Hamlet III. 2, l. 406 :-
* "Tis now the very witching time of night
When grave-yards yawn,” etc.
38 TEEE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW.
the barking of the watch-dog from the opposite shore of the
Hudson; but it was so vague and faint as only to give an idea
of his distance from this faithful companion of man. Now
and then, too, the long drawn crowing of a cock, accidentally
awakened, would sound far, far off, from Some farm-house
away among the hills—but it was like a dreaming sound in his
ear. No signs of life occurred near him, but occasionally the
melancholy chirp of a cricket, or perhaps the guttural twang
91o of a bull-frog, from a neighboring marsh, as if sleeping un-
comfortably, and turning suddenly in his bed./
Ali the stories of ghosts and goblins that he had heard in
the afternoon now came crowding upon his recollection. /The
night grew darker and darker; the stars seemed to sink deeper
in the sky, and driving clouds occasionally hid them from his
sighſ. He had never felt so lonely and dismal. He was,
moreover, approaching the very place where many of the scenes
of the ghost-stories had been laid./ In the centre of the road
stood an enormous tulip-tree, which towered like a giant above
920 all the other trees of the neighborhood, and formed a kind of
landmark. Its limbs were gnarled, and fantastic, large enough
to form trunks for ordinary trees, twisting down almost to the
earth, and rising again into the air/ It was connected with
the tragical story of the unfortunate André, who had been
taken prisoner hard by; and was universally known by the
name of Major André's tree. The common people regarded it
with a mixture of respect and superstition, partly out of sym-
pathy for the fate of its ill-starred namesake, and partly from
the tales of strange sights and doleful lamentations told con-
930 cerning it. -
As Ichabod approached this fearful tree, he began to whistle,
he thought his whistle was answered,—it was but a blast
sweeping sharply through the dry branches. As he approached
a little nearer, he thought he saw something white, hanging in
the midst of the tree, -he paused and ceased whistling; but on
looking more narrowly, perceived that it was a place where
THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW. 39
the tree had been scathed by lightning, and the white wood
laid bare. Suddenly he heard a groan—his teeth chattered
and his knees smote against the saddle: it was but the rubbing
of one huge bough upon another, as they were swayed about 943
by the breeze. He passed the tree in Safety; but new perils
lay before him. -
About two hundred yards from the tree a small brook crossed
the road, and ran into a marshy and thickly wooded glen,
known by the name of Wiley's Swamp. A few rough logs,
laid side by side, served for a bridge over this stream. On that
side of the road where the brook entered the wood, a group of
oaks and chestnuts, matted thick with wild grape-vines, threw
a cavernous gloom over it. To pass this bridge was the severest
trial. It was at this identical spot that the unfortunate André 950
was captured, and under the covert of those chestnuts and
vines were the sturdy yeomen concealed who surprised him.
This has ever since been considered a haunted stream, and
fearful are the feelings of the schoolboy who has to pass it
alone after dark.
As he approached the stream, his heart began to thump; he
summoned up, however, all his resolution, gave his horse half
a score of kicks in the ribs, and attempted to dash briskly
across the bridge; but instead of starting forward, the perverse
old animal made a lateral movement, and ran broadside against 960
the fence. Ichabod, whose fears increased with the delay,
jerked the reins on the other side, and kicked lustily with the
contrary foot: it was all in vain; his steed started, it is true,
but it was only to plunge to the opposite side of the road into
a thicket of brambles and alder bushes. The schoolmaster now
bestowed both whip and heel upon the starveling ribs of old
Gunpowder, who dashed forward, snuffling and snorting, but
came to a stand just by the bridge, with a suddenness that
had nearly sent his rider sprawling over his head. Just at this
moment a plashy tramp by the side of the bridge caught the 970
sensitive ear of Ichabod. In the dark shadow of the grove, on
40 THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW.
the margin of the brook, he beheld something huge, misshapen,
black and towering. It stirred not, but seemed gathered up in
the gloom, like some gigantic monster ready to spring upon
the traveller. -
The hair of the affrighted pedagogue rose upon his head with
terror. What was to be done 2 To turn and fly was now too
late; and besides, what chance was there of escaping ghost or
goblin, if such it was, which could ride upon the wings of the
986 wind 8 Summoning up, therefore, a show of courage, he de-
manded in stammering accents—“Who are you ?” He received
no reply. He repeated his demand in a still more agitated
voice. Still there was no answer. Once more he cudgelled
the sides of the inflexible Gunpowder, and, shutting his eyes,
broke forth with involuntary fervor into a psalm-tune. Just
then the shadowy object of alarm put itself in motion, and,
with a scramble and a bound, stood at once in the middle of
the road. Though the night was dark and dismal, yet the
form of the unknown might now in some degree be ascertained.
900 He appeared to be a horseman of large dimensions, and mounted
on a black horse of powerful frame. He made no offer of mo-
lestation or sociability, but kept aloof on one side of the road,
jogging along on the blind side of old Gunpowder, who had
now got over his fright and waywardness.
Ichabod, who had no relish for this strange midnight com-
panion, and bethought himself of the adventure of Brom
Bones with the galloping Hessian, now quickened his steed, in
hopes of leaving him behind. The stranger, however, quick-
ened his horse to an equal pace. Ichabod pulled up, and fell
reco into a walk, thinking to lag behind,--the other did the same.
His heart began to sink within him; he endeavored to resume
his psalm-tune, but his parched tongue clove to the roof of his
mouth, and he could not utter a stave. There was something
in the moody and dogged silence of this pertinacious com-
panion, that was mysterious and appalling. It was soon fear-
1004. Stave.—A staff or metrical portion of a tune. Averse in psalm-singing.
THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW. 41
fully accounted for. On mounting a rising ground, which
brought the figure of his fellow traveller in relief against the
sky, gigantic in height, and muffled in a cloak, Ichabod was
horror-struck, on perceiving that he was headless!—but his
horror was still more increased, on observing that the head, rose
which should have rested on his shoulders, was carried before
him on the pummel of the saddle: his terror rose to despera-
tion; he rained a shower of kicks and blows upon Gunpowder,
hoping, by a sudden movement, to give his companion the
, slip, -but the spectre started full jump with him. Away then
they dashed, through thick and thin; stones flying, and sparks
flashing at every bound. Ichabod’s flimsy garments fluttered
in the air, as he stretched his long lank body away over his
horse's head, in the eagerness of his flight.
They had now reached the road which turns off to Sleepy rozo
Hollow; but Gunpowder, who seemed possessed with a demon,
instead of keeping up it, made an opposite turn, and plunged
headlong downhill to the left. This road leads through a
sandy hollow, shaded by trees for about a quarter of a mile,
where it crosses the bridge famous in goblin story, and just
beyond swells the green knoll on which stands the whitewashed
church.
As yet the panic of the steed had given his unskilful rider
an apparent advantage in the chase; but just as he had got
half-way through the hollow, the girths of the saddle gave rogc
way, and he felt it slipping from under him. He seized it by
the pommel, and endeavored to hold it firm, but in vain; and
had just time to save himself by clasping old Gunpowder round
the neck, when the saddle fell to the earth, and he heard it
trampled underfoot by his pursuer. For a moment the terror
of Hans Van Ripper's wrath passed across his mind—for it was
his Sunday saddle; but this was no time for petty fears; the
goblin was hard on his haunches; and (unskilful rider that he
1025. Goblin [Fr. gobelin, a hobgoblin].--An evil spirit, a frightful phan-
tom ; a fairy, an elf. -
42 TEIE LEGEN.D OF SIEEPY HOLLOW.
was I) he had much ado to maintain his seat; sometimes slip-
ro40 ping on one side, sometimes on another, and sometimes jolted
on the high ridge of his horse's backbone, with a violence that
he verily feared would cleave him asunder.
An opening in the trees now cheered him with the hopes
that the church-bridge was at hand. The wavering reflection
of a silver star in the bosom of the brook told him that he was
not mistaken. He saw the walls of the church dimly glaring
under the trees beyond. He recollected the place where Brom
Bones's ghostly competitor had disappeared. “If I can but
reach that bridge,” thought Ichabod, “I am safe.” Just then
ioso he heard the black steed panting and blowing close behind
him; he even fancied that he felt his hot breath. Another
convulsive kick in the ribs, and old Gunpowder sprang upon
the bridge; he thundered over the resounding planks; he
gained the opposite side; and now Ichabod cast a look behind
to see if his pursuer should vanish, according to rule, in a flash
of fire and brimstone. Just then he saw the goblin rising in
his stirrups, and in the very act of hurling his head at him.
Ichabod endeavored to dodge the horrible missile, but too late.
It encountered his cranium with a tremendous crash,-he was
1060 tumbled headlong into the dust, and Gunpowder, the black
steed, and the goblin rider, passed by like a whirlwind.
The next morning the old horse was found without his
saddle, and with the bridle under his feet, soberly cropping
the grass at his master's gate. Ichabod did not make his ap-
pearance at breakfast;-dinner-hour came, but no Ichabod.
The boys assembled at the school-house, and strolled idly about
the banks of the brook; but no schoolmaster. Hans Van
Ripper now began to feel some uneasiness about the fate of
poor Ichabod, and his saddle. An inquiry was set on foot,
toyo and after diligent investigation they came upon his traces.
1049. Reach that bridge.—It was a superstitious notion that witches
could not cross the middle of a stream. Cf. Burns's Tam O’Shanter:-
“A running stream they darena cross.”
THE LEGENID OF SIEEPY HOLLOW. 43
In one part of the road leading to the church was found the
saddle trampled in the dirt; the tracks of horses' hoofs deeply
dented in the road, and evidently at furious speed, were traced
to the bridge, beyond which, on the bank of a broad part of
the brook, where the water ran deep and black, was found the
hat of the unfortunate Ichabod, and close beside it a shattered
pumpkin.
The brook was searched, but the body of the schoolmaster
was not to be discovered. Hans Van Ripper, as executor of
his estate, examined the bundle which contained all his worldly logo
effects. They consisted of two shirts and a half; two stocks
for the neck; a pair or two of worsted stockings; an old pair
of corduroy small-clothes; a rusty razor; a book of psalm-tunes,
full of dogs' ears, and a broken pitch-pipe. As to the books
and furniture of the school-house, they belonged to the com-
munity, excepting Cotton Mather's “History of Witchcraft,” a
“New England Almanac,” and a book of dreams and fortune-
telling; in which last was a sheet of foolscap much scribbled
and blotted in several fruitless attempts to make a copy of
verses in honor of the heiress of Wan Tassel. These magic rogo
books and the poetic scrawl were forth with consigned to the
flames by Hans Wan Ripper; who from that time forward de-
termined to send his children no more to school; observing
that he never knew any good come of this same reading and
writing. Whatever money the schoolmaster possessed, and he
had received his quarter's pay but a day or two before, he must
have had about his person at the time of his disappearance.
The mysterious event caused much speculation at the church
on the following Sunday. Knots of gazers and gossips were
collected in the churchyard, at the bridge, and at the spot troo
where the hat and pumpkin had been found. The stories of
Brouwer, of Bones, and a whole budget of others, were called
1083. Corduroy [Fr. corde-du-rož, cord of the king].--A thick cotton cloth,
corded or ribbed, from which wearing apparel for common use was often made.
f º: Dogs’ ears.-The corner of a leaf in a book turned down like the ear
OI a dog, *
44 THE LEGEND OF STEEPY HOLLOW.
to mind; and when they had diligently considered them all,
and compared them with the symptoms of the present case,
they shook their heads, and came to the conclusion that Ichabod
had been carried off by the Galloping Hessian. As he was 2.
bachelor, and in nobody's debt, nobody troubled his head any
more about him. The school was removed to a different quarà
ter of the Hollow, and another pedagogue reigned in his stead:
arro It is true, an old farmer, who had been down to New York
on a visit several years after, and from whom this account of
the ghostly adventure was received, brought home the intel:
ligence that Ichabod Crane was still alive; that he had left the
neighborhood, partly through fear of the goblin and Hans Van
Ripper, and partly in mortification at having been suddenly
dismissed by the heiress; that he had changed his quarters to
a distant part of the country; had kept school and studied º
at the same time, had been admitted to the bar, turned poli-
tician, electioneered, written for the newspapers, and finally
zazo had been made a justice of the Ten Pound Court. Brom Bones
too, who shortly after his rival’s disappearance conducted the
blooming Katrina in triumph to the altar, was observed to
look exceedingly knowing whenever the story of Ichabod was
related, and always burst into a hearty laugh at the mention o:
the pumpkin; which led some to suspect that he knew more
about the matter than he chose to tell. |
The old country wives, however, who are the best judges of
these matters, maintain to this day that Ichabod was spirited
away by supernatural means; and it is a favorite story often
1130 told about the neighborhood round the winter evening fire.
The bridge became more than ever an object of superstitious,
awe, and that may be the reason why the road has been altered
of late years, so as to approach the church by the border of
the mill-pond. The school-house, being deserted, soon fell
to decay, and was reported to be haunted by the ghost of the
1120. Ten Pound Court.—A court having jurisdiction over cases involving
sums not over ten pounds, or about fifty dollars.
~s
THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW. 45
unfortunate pedagogue; and the ploughboy, loitering home-
ward of a still summer evening, has often fancied his voice at
a distance, chanting a melancholy psalm-tune among the tran-
quil solitudes of Sleepy Hollow.
POSTSCRIPT,
FOUND IN THE HANDWRITING OF MR. KNICKERBOCKER.
THE preceding Tale is given, almost in the precise words in which I
aeard it related at a Corporation meeting of the ancient city of Man-
lattoes,” at which were present many of its sagest and most illustrious.
urghers. The narrator was a pleasant, Shabby, gentlemanly old fel-
low, in pepper-and-salt clothes, with a Sadly humorous face ; and one
whom I strongly suspected of being poor, he made such efforts to be .
ntertaining. When his story was concluded, there was much laughter
nd approbation, particularly from two of the deputy aldermen, who
ad been asleep the greater part of the time. There was, however, one
tall, dry-looking old gentleman, with beetling eyebrows, who main-
Bained a grave and rather severe face throughout ; now and then fold-
ing his arms, inclining his head, and looking down upon the floor, as
if turning a doubt over in his mind. He was one of your wary men,
who never laugh, but on good grounds—when they have reason and
he law on their side. When the mirth of the rest of the company had
subsided and silence was restored, he leaned one arm on the elbow of
is chair, and sticking the other akimbo, demanded, with a slight but
exceedingly sage motion of the head, and contraction of the brow,
what was the moral of the story, and what it went to prove 2
The story-teller, who was just putting a glass of wine to his lips, as
refreshment after his toils, paused for a moment, looked at his in-
quirer with an air of infinite deference, and, lowering the glass slowly
to the table, observed, that the story was intended most logically to
prove:-
“That there is no situation in life but has its advantages and plea-
sures—provided we will but take a joke as we find it :
“That, therefore, he that runs races with goblin troopers is likely to
have rough riding of it. -
1136. Unfortunate pedagogue.--Mention the various epithets given by
Irving to Ichabod Crane; as, “worthy pedagogue,” “a hugé feeder,” “the
enraptured Ichabod,” etc.
* See Irving's History of Wew York, Bk. II. ch. 6.
*














46 THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW.

“Ergo, for a country schoolmaster to be refused the hand of a Lutch
heiress, is a certain step to high preferment in the state.”
The cautious old gentleman knit his brows tenfold closer after this
explanation, being Sorely puzzled by the ratiocination of the syllogism:
while, methought, the one in pepper-and-salt eyed him with Something
of a triumphant leer. At length he observed, that all this was very
well, but still he thought the story a little on the extravagant—ther
were one or two points on which he had his doubts. “Faith, sir,” re.
plied the story-teller, “as to that matter, I don’t believe one half of i
myself.” {}. K.
Questions on Irving and the “Sketch-Book.”
1. Mention some facts in the early life of Irving. 2. Mention a .
noteworthy incident of his infancy. 3. How did Irving conduct him-
self at school 2 4. How did he lay a foundation for his literary
career ? 5. What can you tell of his youthful rambles about Manhat-
tan Island # 6. What use did he afterward make of this information ?
7. What profession did he choose ? 8. What can you say of his first
trip abroad? 9. Mention some of the famous men he met 2 10. What
did he try to do on his return ? 11. What was his first literary work?
12. The Salamagundi Papers, and their success 2 13. Mention the
romantic episode which colored all his after-life. 14. What was
Irving's first decided literary success? 15. Give some details about
the work and the reception it received. 16. What sent Irving to
Europe for the second time, in 1815; 17. With what success.”
18. What induced him to adopt literature as a profession ? 19. What
lucrative offers did he decline 2 20. When was the first number of the
Sketch-Book published ?. 21. How was Irving forced to protect his inter-
ests in England 3 22. In what way did Scott help Irving 2 23. How
was the Sketch-Book received ?. 24. What famous literary persons
became Irving’s friends 2 25. What was his second work, and how
received 2—his third, in 1824? 26. Where did Irving now take up his
residence? 27. What works followed during the next six years, 1826–
32? 28. When did Irving return to America. 2 29. What extended
tour did he make?—with what literary result 2 30. Where did Irving
select a home for himself 2 31. Did the place become a celebrated
literary resort 2 32. What famous persons made pilgrimages to “Sun-
nyside?” 33. What literary labors followed shortly after his return ?
34. What great honor was conferred upon Irving, in 1842 ° 35. How
did Irving pass the last years of his life? 36. What was his last lit-
erary labor? 37. When and where did Irving die 2—where buried?
38. What tributes were paid to his memory 2 39. What was the secret
of Irving's popularity as a writer? 40. What can you say of him as a
man? 41. The prominent characteristics of his works 2 42. State what
several distinguished men have said of Irving and his writings.
43. What led Irving to write and publish the Sketch-Book £ 44. Mention
the titles of the different sketches. 45. Which one is your favorite?—
why? 46. Are some of the papers founded upon the actual experience
of the author? 47. Which one has been dramatized ?—by whom ?—for
whom? 48. Why was the book so popular in England 2 49. What
was the state of American literature at the time it was written ?
50. Quote three or more of your favorite passages.
SELECTIONS TO COMMIT TO MEMORY.
There is Something in sickness that breaks down the pride of man-
hood; that softens the heart, and brings it back to the feelings of
infancy. :
• As a man travels on in the journey of life, his objects of wonder
daily diminish, and he is continually finding out some very simple
cause for some great matter of marvel. -
. There is in every true woman's heart a spark of heavenly fire, which
lies dormant in the broad daylight of prosperity, but which kindles up
and beams and blazes in the dark hour of adversity. ‘.
Happiness is reflective, like the light of Heaven ; and every counte-
nance, bright with Smiles, and glowing with innocent enjoyment, is a
mirror transmitting to others the rays of a Supreme and ever-shining
benevolence.—Christmas. f
There rise authors, now and them, who seem proof against the muta-
bility of language, because they have rooted themselves in the un-
changing principles of human nature. They are like gigantic trees
that we sometimes see on the banks of a stream ; which, by their vast
and deep roots, penetrating through the mere surface and laying hold
on the very foundations of the earth, preserve the soil around them
from being swept away by the ever-flowing current, and hold up many
a neighboring plant and, perhaps, Worthless Weed to perpetuity.-
JMutability of Literature. -:
Oh I there is an enduring tenderness in the love of a mother to her
son that transcends all other affections of the heart. It is neither to
be chilled by selfishness, nor daunted by danger, nor weakened by
worthlessness, nor stifled by ingratitude. She will sacrifice every com-
fort to his convenience; she will surrender every pleasure to his en-
joyment; she will glory in his fame, and exult in his prosperity;-and,
if misfortune overtake him, he will be the dearer to her from misfor-
tune; and if disgrace Settle upon his name, she will still love and
cherish him in spite of his disgrace ; and if all the world besides cast
him off, she will be all the world to him.—The Widow and her Son.
What, thought I, are the distresses of the rich 2 They have friends
to soothe-pleasures to beguile—a world to divert and dissipate their
griefs. What are the sorrows of the young ! Their growing minds
soon close above the wound—their elastic spirits soon rise beneath the
pressure—their green and ductile affections soon twine round new ob-
jects. But the sorrows of the poor, who have no outward appliances
to soothe—the sorrows of the aged, with whom life at '..est is but a
wintry day, and who can look for no after-growth of joy-these are
indeed sorrows which make us feel the impotency of consolation.-Thé
1Widow and her Soz. -

UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
i#
|||
;-ſts:
§ .2º.ſrº
i;
DO NOT REMOVE
OR
MUTILATE CARDS



- - - - se: - • - * . Tºº;;ºg, Tºr
--" ****** * * * ** . **.*. .->s--- * -. - - **.** .** * . ++ ****, *, * ...:
- 2. - • * * .* - §:tº “ºut-º:
• *- : - . . . “%. **** -- * ******.*.*.*.*.*. * * *- : * - * * -- **.
* ..." ----- . -- ** - - - - *** - mºs - • ** - * ~ *-* * **Twº- r "
-º-º:
T. … iº
<ºtiºt!:
####
-** \:*::
" ENGLISH CLASSIC SERIES-continued. . .
le Antigone of Sophocles.
º; Version by Thos. Franck-
A n, D.D. - . .
'izabeth Barrett - Browning.
\Selected Poems.)
»bert Browning. (Selected
Poems.)
11 dison’s Spectator. (Selec'ns.)
‘enes from George Eliot’s
Adam Bede.
:\tthew Arnold’s Culturc and
Anarchy. -
2 Quincey’s Joan of Arc.
.rlyle’s Essay on Burns.
rôn's Childe Harold’s Pil-
trimage.
e’s Raven, and other Poems.
#4. Macaulay’s Lord Clive.
1jöuble Number.) -
“bster’s Reply to Hayne. . . .
, 7. Macaulay’s Lays of Anº
..ient Rome. (Double Number.) .
merican Patriotic Salections:
Peclaration of Independence,
Washington’s Farewell Ad-
iress, Lincoln's Gettysburg
Speech, etc. - - -
30:Scott's Lady of the Lake,
Čopdensed.) --
§§§éd.) z º -
84 PoPº: Essay on Man.
|ºlley's Skylark, Adonais, and
other Poelus. . . . . . . . . .
iškens's Cricket on the
IIearth. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . '
losophy of Style.
§2. Scott's Marmion. (Con-
rett car’s Phi
tºb’s Essays of Elia. . .
§wper's Task, Book II. .” " *-x
dsworth’s Selected Poems.
#. The Holy Grail, and
ir Galahad.
£dison’s Cato. ---
:ving’; Westminster Abbey,
hind "iristma Sketches. . . . .
95. Macaulay s Earl of Chats .
$nam. Secor” lºssay.
irly English Ballads. -
Kolton, Wyatt, and Surrey,
Selected Poems.) - * .
§win Arnold. (Selected Poems.)
ñxton and Daniel. § *
§uller and Hooker. (Selections.
{{arlowe’s Jew of Malta. (Con-
£08 Macaulay's Essay on Mii-
Tl,
‘Q5 Macaulay’s Essay on Ad-
108–109 Macaulay's Essay on Fred-
erick the Great. (
Croesus sº s, and
11? Irvigºkham bra. . . . . .
118 Burke’s Present Discontents::
119 Burke’s Speech on Concilia-
abylon.
21–122 Motley’s Peter the Great. §
124 Arnold’s Sohrab and Bustāā.
125-126 Longfellow’s Evangeline.’
127 Byron’s Childe Hilrold, Canto
V r
IV. -
128. Tennyson’s The Coming of
; : Armor, find other Poems, ...
s, and other Poems.
Ship; Resignation, etc. .
134 ionºfeſſiovºs Time voices. of
- the Night. . . . ; . . . . . .
* copy.
Dowble numbers, 75 §§§ pages;
mailing price, 24 cents per copy,
In Preparation a large numberſ
of Selections from Standard Writ-É
Supplementary
ings for *".....: e. --
in Lower Grades, including . . .
Prepara-II,
tion.) * * • *.
110–111 Milton’s Samson Agon-Hº ;
istes. . £º ſ:
**-*. Franklin’s Autobi-li ...,
ography. .. . I *.
115-116 "Hºodotus's Stories of H.;
... ºtion with American ºmies.HH
120 Macaulay’s Essay on: Byróñº ||
1
123 Emerson’s American Schºlars ºf
Arthur, and The Passing of
Arthuir. - - |- ſº
129 Lowell’s The Vision of Sir 3"
- I.aunfal, and other Poems. .#| ||
130 Whittier's Songs of Labor, and f ;
other Poems. . . . . . . . . ;
131 fongfeilow's The Skeleton in H}.
132 ºilºitry off
• Bruges, an ... li. §
133 Longfellow’s Building. of thef ... ."
k
single numbers, 32 to 64 ra es; |
|rnaúling *...* #: pages;
Reading|| #:
- i. §
- - -
-
* r tº
- * , tº
-º
º
... •kº
-
- (Selected.). . . . - - ---
AEsop’s Fables. (Selected.) , , ,
Arabian Nights. . (Selected.) sº;
Andersen’s Danish Fairy. Tº
(Selected.) ºš - ſº
The Nurnberg Stove.
Horace's The Art of Po
lated in verse by
. Mailiig price, 2
Grimm's German Fairy Tales.]
**
5
. Defoe's Robinson Crºſſ R-rº-
dison. #3:by PETER-PARLEy, with r-
03. Macaulay’s Essay on Bos- {...}. #dd, nétès. 169 pp. ; º
ell’s Johnson. ###ailing price, #6'çëſº #.
Special Prices
to Teachers.
* * *-* **
* - --- - a
FULL DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE SENT ON APPLICATION. . .
• * ~ * 4.
's
[.
º
'aleš. f