Rip Van Winkle audiobook short story by Washington Irving Learn English Through Story

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rip van winkle by washington irving

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whoever has made a voyage up the hudson

must remember the catskill mountains

they are a dismembered branch of the

great appalachian family and are seen

away to the west of the river swelling

up to a noble height and lording it over

the surrounding country

every change of season every change of

weather indeed every hour of the day

produces some change in the magical hues

and shapes of these mountains and they

are regarded by all the good wives far

and near as perfect barometers

when the weather is fair and settled

they are clothed in blue and purple

and print their bold outlines on the

clear evening sky

but sometimes when the rest of the

landscape is cloudless they will gather

a hood of grey vapors about their

summits

which in the last rays of the setting

sun will glow and light up like a crown

of glory

at the foot of these fairy mountains the

voyager may have described the light

smoke curling up from a village whose

shingle roofs gleam among the trees just

where the blue tints of the upland melt

away into the fresh green of the nearer

landscape

it is a little village of great

antiquity having been founded by some of

the dutch colonists in the early times

of the province

just about the beginning of the

government of the good peter stuyvesant

may he rest in peace

and there were some of the houses of the

original settlers standing within a few

years built of small yellow bricks

brought from holland having latticed

windows and gable fronts surmounted with

weather

in that same village and in one of these

very houses which to tell a precise

truth was sadly time worn and weather

beaten there lived many years since

while the country was yet a province of

great britain a simple

good-natured fellow of the name of rip

van winkle

he was a descendant of the van winkles

who figured so gallantly in the

chivalrous days of peter stuyvesant and

accompanied him to the siege of fort

christina

he inherited however but little of the

martial character of his ancestors

i have observed that he was a simple

good-natured man

he was moreover a kind neighbor and an

obedient hand-pecked husband

indeed to the latter circumstance might

be owing that meekness of spirit which

gained him such universal popularity

for those men are most apt to be

obsequious and conciliating abroad who

are under the discipline of shrews at

home

their tempers doubtless are rendered

plant and malleable in the fiery furnace

of domestic tribulation

and a curtain lecture is worth all the

sermons in the world for teaching the

virtues of patience and long-suffering

a termigant wife may therefore in some

respects be considered a tolerable

blessing

and if so

rip van winkle was thrice blessed

certain it is that he was a great

favorite among all the good wives of the

village who as usual with the amiable

sex took his part in all family

squabbles and never failed whenever they

talk those matters over in their evening

gossipings to lay all the blame on dame

van winkle

the children of the village too would

shout with joy whenever he approached

he assisted at their sports made their

play things taught them to fly kites and

shoot marbles and told them long stories

of ghosts witches and indians

whenever he went dodging about the

village he was surrounded by a troop of

them hanging on his skirts clambering on

his back and playing a thousand tricks

on him with impunity and not a dog would

pocket him throughout the neighborhood

the great error in rip’s composition was

an insuperable aversion to all kinds of

profitable labor

it could not be from the wand of

assiduity or perseverance for he would

sit on a wet rock with a rod as long and

heavy as a tartar’s lance

and fish all day without a murmur even

though he should not be encouraged by a

single nibble

he would carry a fouling piece on his

shoulder for hours together trudging

through woods and swamps and uphill and

down dale to shoot a few squirrels or

wild pigeons

he would never refuse to assist a

neighbor even in the roughest toil

and was a foremost man at all country

frolicks for husking indian corn or

building stone fences

the women of the village too used to

employ him to run their errands and to

do such little odd jobs as their less

obliging husbands would not do for them

in a word rip was ready to attend to

anybody’s business but his own

but as to doing family duty and keeping

his farm in order he found it impossible

in fact he declared it was of no use to

work on his farm

it was the most pestilent little piece

of ground in the whole country

everything about it went wrong and would

go wrong in spite of him

his fences were continually falling to

pieces

his cow would either go astray or get

among the cabbages

weeds were sure to grow quicker in his

fields than anywhere else

the rain always made a point of setting

in just as he had some outdoor work to

do

so that though his patrimonial estate

had dwindled away under his management

acre by acre until there was little more

left than a mere patch of indian corn

and potatoes yet it was the worst

condition farm in the neighborhood

his children too were as ragged and wild

as if they belong to nobody

his son rip an urchin begotten in his

own likeness promised to inherit the

habits with the old clothes of his

father

he was generally seen trooping like a

coat at his mother’s heels equipped in a

pair of his father’s cast off

galagaskins which he had much ado to

hold up with one hand as a fine lady

does her train in bad weather

rip van winkle however was one of those

happy mortals of foolish well-oiled

dispositions who take the world easy

eat white bread or brown whichever can

be got with least thought or trouble and

would rather starve on a penny than work

for a pound

if left to himself he would have

whistled life away in perfect

contentment

but his wife kept continually dinning in

his ears about his idleness his

carelessness and the ruin he was

bringing on his family

morning noon and night her tongue was

incessantly going and everything he said

or did was sure to produce a torrent of

household eloquence

rip had but one way of replying to all

lectures of the kind

and that by frequent use had grown into

a habit

he shrugged his shoulders

shook his head

cast up his eyes but said nothing

this however always provoked a fresh

volley from his wife

so that he was feigned to draw off his

forces and take to the outside of the

house the only side which in truth

belongs to a hand-picked

husband rip’s sole domestic adherent was

his dog wolf

who was as much hen packed as his master

for dame van winkle regarded them as

companions in idleness and even looked

upon wolf with an evil eye as the cause

of his masters going so often astray

true it is in all points of spirit

befitting an honorable dog he was as

courageous an animal as ever scoured the

woods

but what courage can withstand the ever

during and all besetting terrors of a

woman’s tongue

the moment wolf entered the house his

crest fell his tail drooped to the

ground or curled between his legs he

sneaked about with a gallows air casting

many a side-long glance at dame van

winkle and at the least flourish of a

broomstick or ladle he would fly to the

door with yelping precipitation

times grew worse and worse with rip van

winkle as years of matrimony rolled on

a tart temper never mellows with age and

a sharp tongue is the only edge tool

that grows keener with constant use

for a long while he used to console

himself when driven from home by

frequenting a kind of perpetual club of

the sages philosophers and other idol

personages of the village

which held its sessions on a bench

before a small inn

designated by a rubicon portrait of his

majesty george the third

here they used to sit in the shade

through a long lazy summer’s day

talking listlessly over village gossip

or telling endless sleepy stories about

nothing

but it would have been worth any

statesman’s money to have heard the

profound discussions that sometimes took

place

when by chance an old newspaper fell

into their hands from some passing

traveler

how solemnly they would listen to the

contents as drawled out by derrick van

bummel the schoolmaster

a dapper learned little man who was not

to be daunted by the most gigantic word

in the dictionary and how sagely they

would deliberate upon the public events

some months after they had taken place

the opinions of this hunto were

completely controlled by nicolas vetter

a patriarch of the village and landlord

of the inn

at the door of which he took his seat

from morning till night

just moving sufficiently to avoid the

sun and keep in the shade of a large

tree

so that the neighbors could tell the

hour by his movements as accurately as

by a sundial

it is true he was hardly heard to speak

but smoked his pipe incessantly

his adherence however

for every great man has his adherence

perfectly understood him and knew how to

gather his opinions

when anything that was read or related

displeased him

he was observed to smoke his pipe

vehemently and to send forth short

frequent and angry puffs

but when pleased he would inhale the

smoke slowly and tranquilly and emit it

in light and placid clouds and sometimes

taking the pipe from his mouth and

letting the fragrant vapor curl about

his nose would gravely nod his head and

token of perfect approbation

from even this stronghold the unlucky

rip was at length routed by his

terminate wife who would suddenly break

in upon the tranquility of the

assemblage and call the members all to

not

nor was that august personage nicholas

vetter himself

sacred from the daring tongue of this

terrible virago who charged him outright

with encouraging her husband in habits

of idleness

poor rip was at last reduced almost to

despair

and his only alternative to escape from

the labor of the farm and clamour of his

wife was to take gun in hand and stroll

away into the woods

here he would sometimes seat himself at

the foot of a tree and share the

contents of his wallet with wolf

with whom he sympathized as a fellow

sufferer in persecution

poor wolf he would say

thy mistress leads the dog’s life of it

but never mind my lad

whilst i live thou shalt never want a

friend to stand by thee

wolf would wag his tail

look wistfully in his master’s face

and if dogs can feel pity i verily

believe he reciprocated the sentiment

with all his heart

in a long ramble of the kind on a fine

autumnal day

rip had unconsciously scrambled to one

of the highest parts of the catskill

mountains

he was after his favorite sport of

squirrel shooting and the still

solitudes had echoed and re-echoed with

the reports of his gun

panting and fatigued he threw himself

late in the afternoon on a green knoll

covered with mountain herbage that

crowned the brow of a precipice

from an opening between the trees he

could overlook all the lower country for

many a mile of rich woodland he saw at a

distance the lordly hudson far far below

him

moving on its silent but majestic course

with the reflection of a purple cloud or

the sail of a lagging bark here and

there sleeping on its glassy bosom and

at last losing itself in the blue

highlands

on the other side he looked down into a

deep mountain glen

wild lonely and shagged the bottom

filled with fragments from the impending

cliffs

and scarcely lighted by the reflected

rays of the setting sun

for some time rip lay musing on this

scene evening was gradually advancing

the mountains began to throw their long

blue shadows over the valleys

he saw that it would be dark long before

he could reach the village

and he heaved a heavy sigh

when he thought of encountering the

terrors of dame van winkle

as he was about to descend he heard a

voice from a distance

hallowing

rip van winkle

rip van winkle

he looked round but could see nothing

but a crow

winging at solitary flight across the

mountain

he thought his fancy must have deceived

him

and turned again to descend

when he heard the same cry ring through

the still evening air

ripped van winkle

rip van winkle

at the same time

wolf bristled up his back and giving a

low growl

sculpt to his master’s side looking

fearfully down into the glen

rip now felt a vague apprehension

stealing over him

he looked anxiously in the same

direction

and perceived a strange figure slowly

toiling up the rocks and bending under

the weight of something he carried on

his back

he was surprised to see any human being

in this lonely and unfrequented place

but supposing it to be someone of the

neighborhood in need of his assistance

he hastened down to yield it on nearer

approach he was still more surprised at

the singularity of the stranger’s

appearance

he was a short square-built old fellow

with thick bushy hair and a grizzled

beard

his dress was of the antique dutch

fashion

a cloth jerking strapped around the

waist

several pair of breeches

the outer one of apple volume

decorated with rows of buttons down the

sides and bunches at the knees

he bore on his shoulder a stout keg that

seemed full of liquor and made signs for

rip to approach and assist him with the

load

though

rather shy and distrustful of this new

acquaintance rip complied with his usual

alacrity

and mutually relieving one another they

clamored up a narrow gully

apparently the dry bed of a mountain

torrent

as they ascended rip every now and then

heard long

rolling pills like distant thunder that

seemed to issue out of a deep ravine or

rather cleft between lofty rocks toward

which this rugged path conducted

he paused for an instant

but supposing it to be the muttering of

one of those transient thundershowers

which often take place in mountain

heights he proceeded

passing through the ravine they came to

a hollow

like a small amphitheater

surrounded by perpendicular precipices

over the brinks of which impending trees

shot their branches so that you only

caught glimpses of the azure sky and the

bright evening cloud

during the whole time rip and his

companion had labored on in silence

for though the former marveled greatly

what could be the object of carrying a

keg of liquor up this wild mountain yet

there was something strange and

incomprehensible about the unknown that

inspired awe and

checked familiarity

on entering the amphitheater new objects

of wonder presented themselves

on a level spot in the center was a

company of odd-looking personages

playing at nine pins

they were dressed in a quaint outlandish

fashion

some wore short doublets other jerkins

with long knives in their belts and most

of them had enormous bridges of similar

style with that of the guides

their visages too were peculiar

one had a large beard broad face and

small piggish eyes

the face of another seemed to consist

entirely of nose and was surmounted by a

white sugar loaf hat set off with a

little red cock’s tail

they all had beards of various shapes

and colors

there was one who seemed to be the

commander

he was a stout old gentleman with a

weather beaten countenance

he wore a laced doublet broad belt and

hanger high crowned hat and feather red

stockings and high heeled shoes with

roses in them

the whole group reminded rip of the

figures in an old flemish painting in

the parlor of domini van sheikh the

village parson and which had been

brought over from holland at the time of

the settlement

what seemed particularly odd to rip was

that though these folks were evidently

amusing themselves yet they maintained

the gravest faces the most mysterious

silence and were with all the most

melancholy party of pleasure he had ever

witnessed

nothing interrupted the stillness of the

scene but the noise of the balls which

whenever they were rolled echoed along

the mountains like rumbling peels of

thunder

as rip and his companion approach them

they

suddenly desisted from their play

and stared at him with such fixed

statue-like gaze and such strange

uncouth lackluster countenances that his

heart turned within him and his knees

smoked together

his companion now emptied the contents

of the keg into large flagons and made

signs to him to wait upon the company

he obeyed with fear and trembling

they quaffed the liquor in profound

silence and then returned to the game

by degrees rip’s awe and apprehension

subsided

he even ventured when no eye was fixed

upon him to taste the beverage which he

found had much of the flavor of

excellent hollands

he was naturally a thirsty soul and was

soon tempted to repeat the draft

one taste provoked another

and he reiterated his visits to the flag

and so often that at length his senses

were overpowered his eyes swam in his

head his head gradually declined and he

fell into a deep sleep

on waking he found himself on the green

knoll whence he had first seen the old

man of the glenn

he rubbed his eyes

it was a bright

sunny morning

the birds were hopping and twittering

among the bushes and the eagle was

wheeling aloft and breasting the pure

mountain breeze

surely thought rip i have not slept here

all night

he recalled the occurrences before he

fell asleep

the strange man with a keg of liquor the

mountain ravine the wild retreat among

the rocks the woe be gone party at nine

pins the flagon

oh

that flag and

that wicked flag and thought rip

what excuse shall i make today van

winkle

he looked round for his gun

but in place of the clean well-oiled

fouling piece he found an old fire lock

lying by him the barrel encrusted with

rust the lock falling off and the stock

worm eaten

he now suspected that the grave roysters

of the mountain had put a trick upon him

and having dosed him with liquor had

robbed him of his gun

wolf too had disappeared but he might

have strayed after a squirrel or a

partridge

he whistled after him and shouted his

name

but all in vain

the echoes repeated his whistle and

shout but no dog was to be seen

he determined to revisit the scene of

the last evening’s gamble and if he met

with any of the party to demand his dog

and gun

as he rose to walk he found himself

stiff in the joints and wanting in his

usual activity

these mountain beds do not agree with me

thought rip

and if this frolic should lay me up with

a fit of the rheumatism i shall have a

blessed time with dame van winkle

with some difficulty got down into the

glen

he found the gully up which he and his

companion had ascended the preceding

evening

but to his astonishment a mountain

stream was now foaming down at leaping

from rock to rock and filling the glen

with babbling murmurs

he however made shift to scramble up its

sides working his toilsome way through

thickets of birch sassafras and witch

hazel and sometimes tripped up or

entangled by the wild grapevines that

twisted their coils or tendrils from

tree to tree and spread a kind of

network in his path

at length he reached to where the ravine

had opened through the cliffs to the

amphitheater

but no traces of such opening remained

the rocks presented a high

impenetrable wall over which the torrent

came tumbling in a sheet of feathery

foam and fell into a broad deep basin

black from the shadows of the

surrounding forest

here then poor rip was brought to a

stand

he again called and whistled after his

dog

he was only answered by the coin of a

flock of idle crows sporting high in air

about a dry tree that overhung a sunny

precipice

and who secure in their elevation seemed

to look down and scoff at the poor man’s

perplexities

what was to be done

the morning was passing away and rip

felt famished for one of his breakfast

he grieved to give up his dog and gun

he dreaded to meet his wife

but it would not do to starve among the

mountains

he shook his head

shouldered the rusty fire lock and with

a heart full of trouble and anxiety

turned his steps homeward

as he approached the village he met a

number of people

but none whom he knew

which somewhat surprised him for he had

thought himself acquainted with everyone

in the country round

their dress too was of a different

fashion from that to which he was

accustomed

they all stared at him with equal marks

of surprise and whenever they cast their

eyes upon him invariably stroked their

chins the constant recurrence of this

gesture

induced rip involuntarily to do the same

when to his astonishment

he found his beard had grown a foot long

he had now entered the skirts of the

village

a troop of strange children ran at his

heels

hooting after him and pointing at his

gray beard

the dogs too not one of which he

recognized for an old acquaintance

barked at him as he passed

the very village was altered it was

larger and more populous

there were rows of houses which he had

never seen before

and those which had been his familiar

haunts had disappeared

strange names were over the doors

strange faces at the windows everything

was strange

his mind now misgave him

he began to doubt whether both he and

the world around him were not bewitched

surely this was his native village which

he had left but the day before

there stood the catskill mountains

there ran the silver hudson at a

distance

there was every hill and dale precisely

as it had always been

rip was sorely perplexed

that flagon last night thought he

has addled my poor head sadly

it was with some difficulty that he

found the way to his own house which he

approached with silent awe expecting

every moment to hear the shrill voice of

dame van winkle

he found the house gone to decay the

roof fallen in the window shattered and

the doors off the hinges

a half starved dog that looked like wolf

was skulking about it

rip called him by name but the curse

snarled showed his teeth and passed on

this was an unkind cut indeed

my very dog

side poor rip has forgotten me

he entered the house which to tell the

truth dame van winkle had always kept a

neat order

it was empty

forlorn and apparently abandoned

this desolateness overcame all his

conubeal fears he called loudly for his

wife and children

the lonely chambers rang for a moment

with his voice

and then all again was silence

he now hurried forth and hastened to his

old resort the village inn

but it too was gone

a large rickety wooden building stood in

its place with great gaping windows some

of them broken and mended with old hats

and petticoats and over the door was

painted

the union hotel by jonathan doolittle

instead of the great tree that used to

shelter the quiet little dutch inn of

yore

there now was reared a tall naked pole

with something on the top that looked

like a red night cap

and from it was fluttering a flag on

which was a singular assemblage of stars

and stripes

all this was strange and

incomprehensible

he recognized on the sign however the

ruby face of king george under which he

had smoked so many a peaceful pipe but

even this was singularly metamorphosed

the red coat was changed for one of blue

and buff

a sword was held in the hand instead of

a scepter the head was decorated with a

cocked hat and underneath was painted in

large characters

general washington

there was as usual a crowd of folk about

the door but none that rip recollected

the very character of the people seemed

changed

there was a busy bustling disputatious

tone about it instead of the accustomed

phlegm and drowsy tranquility

he looked in vain for the sage nicholas

vetter

with his broad face double chin and fair

long pipe uttering clouds of tobacco

smoke instead of idle speeches

or van bummel the schoolmaster doling

forth the contents of an ancient

newspaper

in place of these a lean

bilious looking fellow with his pockets

full of hand bills was haranguing

vehemently about rights of citizens

elections

members of congress liberty

bunkers hill

heroes of 76

and other words which were a perfect

babylonish jargon to the bewildered van

winkle

the appearance of rip with his long

grizzled beard his rusty fouling piece

his uncouthed dress and an army of women

and children at his heels soon attracted

the attention of the tavern politicians

they crowded around him eyeing him from

head to foot with great curiosity

the orator bustled up to him and drawing

him partly aside inquired

on which side he voted

rip

stared in vacant stupidity

another short but busy little fellow

pulled him by the arm and rising on

tiptoe inquired in his ear whether he

was federal or democrat

rip was equally at a loss to comprehend

the question when a knowing

self-important old gentleman in a sharp

cocked hat made his way through the

crowd putting them to the right and left

with his elbows as he passed and

planting himself before van winkle with

one arm akimbo the other resting on his

cane

his keen eyes and sharp hat penetrating

as it were into his very soul

demanded in an austere tone

what brought him to the election with a

gun on his shoulder and a mob at his

heels and whether he meant to breed a

riot in the village

alas

gentleman cried rip somewhat dismayed i

am a poor quiet man a native of the

place and a loyal subject of the king

god bless him

here a general shout burst from the

bystanders a tory a tory a spy a refugee

hustle him away with him

it was with great difficulty that the

self-important man in the cocked hat

restored order

and having assumed a tenfold austerity

of brow demanded again of the unknown

culprit what he came there for and whom

he was seeking

the poor man humbly assured him that he

meant no harm but merely came there in

search of some of his neighbors who used

to keep about the tavern

well

who are they name them

rip they thought himself a moment and

inquired

where’s nicholas better

there was a silence for a little while

when an old man replied in a thin piping

voice

nicholas better why he’s dead and gone

these 18 years there was a wooden

tombstone in the churchyard that used to

tell all about him but that’s rotten and

gone too

where’s

brom dutcher

oh he went off to the army in the

beginning of the war some say he was

killed at the storming of stony point

others say he was drowned in a squall at

the foot of anthony’s nose i don’t know

he never came back again well

where’s ben bummel

the school master

well he went after the wars too was a

great militia general and is now in

congress

rip’s heart died away at hearing of

these sad changes in his home and

friends and finding himself thus alone

in the world

every answer puzzled him too by treating

of such enormous lapses of time and of

matters which he could not understand

war

congress stony point

he had no courage to ask after any more

friends but cried out in despair

does nobody hear no rip van winkle

oh

oh rip van winkle exclaimed two or three

oh to be sure uh that’s uh rip famico

yonder leaning against the tree

rip looked

and beheld a precise counterpart of

himself as he went up the mountain

apparently as lazy and certainly as

ragged

the poor fellow was now completely

confounded

he doubted his own identity and whether

he was himself or another man

in the midst of his bewilderment the man

in the cocked hat demanded who he was

and what was his name

god knows exclaimed he at his wit’s end

i’m not myself i’m somebody else

that’s me yonder no that’s somebody else

got into my shoes

i was myself last night but i fell

asleep on the mountain and they’ve

changed my gun and everything’s changed

and i’m changed and i can’t tell my name

or who i am

the bystanders began now to look at each

other nod wink significantly and tap

their fingers against their foreheads

there was a whisper also about securing

the gun and keeping the old fellow from

doing mischief at the very suggestion of

which the self-important man in the

cocked hat retired with some

precipitation

at this critical moment a fresh

calmly woman pressed through the throng

to get a peep at the gray-bearded man

she had a chubby child in her arms which

frightened at his looks began to cry

hush rip cry chi hush you little fool

the old man won’t hurt you

the name of the child the heir of the

mother the tone of her voice

all awakened a train of recollections in

his mind

what is your name my good woman

asked he

judith gardner

and your father’s name

ah poor man

a rip van winker was his name but it’s

20 years since he went away from home

with his gun and never has been heard up

since

his dog came home without him but

whether he shot himself or was carried

away by the indians nobody can tell

i was then but a little girl

rip had but one question more to ask but

he put it with faltering voice

where’s your mother

oh

she too had died but a short time since

she broke a blood vessel in a bit of

passion at a new england peddler

there was a drop of comfort at least in

this intelligence

the honest man could contain himself no

longer

he caught his daughter and her child in

his arms

i am your father cried he young rip van

winkle wants old rip van winkle now

does nobody know poor rip van winkle

all stood amazed until an old woman

tattering out from among the crowd put

her hand to her brow and peering under

it in his face for a moment exclaimed

sure enough it is rit van winkle it is

himself

welcome home again old neighbor why

where have you been these 20 long years

rip’s story was soon told for the whole

20 years had been to him but as one

night

the neighbors stared when they heard it

some were seen to wink at each other and

put their tongues in their cheeks and

the self-important man in the cocked hat

who when the alarm was over had returned

to the field screwed down the corners of

his mouth and shook his head

upon which there was a general shaking

of the head throughout the assemblage

it was determined however to take the

opinion of old peter vanderdonk who was

seen slowly advancing up the road

he was a descendant of the historian of

that name who wrote one of the earliest

accounts of the province

peter was the most ancient inhabitant of

the village

and well versed in all the wonderful

events and traditions of the

neighborhood

he recollected rip at once and

corroborated his story in the most

satisfactory manner

he assured the company that it was a

fact handed down from his ancestor the

historian that the catskill mountains

had always been haunted by strange

beings that it was affirmed that the

great hendrick hudson the first

discoverer of the river and country kept

a kind of vigil there every 20 years

with his crew of the half moon

being permitted in this way to revisit

the scenes of his enterprise and keep a

guardian eye upon the river and the

great city called by his name

that his father had once seen them in

their old dutch dresses playing at nine

pins in a hollow of the mountain and

that he himself had heard one summer

afternoon the sound of their balls like

distant peels of thunder

to make a long story short the company

broke up and returned to the more

important concerns of the election

rip’s daughter took him home to live

with her

she had a snug well-furnished house and

a stout cheery farmer for a husband whom

rip recollected for one of the urchins

that used to climb upon his back

as to rips sun and air

who was the ditto of himself seen

leaning against the tree

he was employed to work on the farm

but evinced and hereditary disposition

to attend to anything else but his

business

rip now resumed his old walks and habits

he soon found many of his former cronies

though all rather the worst for the wear

and tear of time

and preferred making friends among the

rising generation

with whom he soon grew into great favor

having nothing to do at home and being

arrived at that happy age when a man can

be idle with impunity he took his place

once more on the bench at the in door

and was reverenced as one of the

patriarchs of the village and a

chronicle of the old times before the

war

it was some time before he could get

into the regular track of gossip or

could be made to comprehend the strange

events that had taken place during his

torpor

how that there had been a revolutionary

war

that the country had thrown off the yoke

of old england and that instead of being

a subject of his majesty george the

third he was now a free citizen of the

united states

rip in fact was no politician

the changes of states and empires made

but little impression on him

but there was one species of despotism

under which he had long groaned and that

was

petticoat government

happily that was at an end

he had got his neck out of the yoke of

matrimony and could go in and out

whenever he pleased without dreading the

tyranny of dame van winkle

whenever her name was mentioned however

he shook his head

shrugged his shoulders

and cast up his eyes

which might pass

either for an expression of resignation

to his faith

or joy of his deliverance

he used to tell his story to every

stranger that arrived at mr doolittle’s

hotel he was observed at first to vary

on some points every time he told it

which was doubtless owing to his having

so recently awake

it at last settled down precisely to the

tale i have related and not a man woman

or child in the neighborhood but knew it

by heart

some always pretended to doubt the

reality of it and insisted that rip had

been out of his head and that this was

one point on which he always remained

flighty

the old dutch inhabitants however almost

universally gave it full credit

even to this day

they never hear a thunderstorm of a

summer afternoon about the catskill but

they say hendrick hudson and his crew

are at their game of nine pins

and it is a common wish of all

hand-picked husbands in the neighborhood

when life hangs heavy on their hands

that they might have a quieting draft

out of rip van winkle’s flagon

you