Rip van winkle text. 'Rip Van Winkle" and 'The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" 2022-10-19
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"Rip Van Winkle" is a short story by Washington Irving that was first published in 1819. It tells the tale of Rip Van Winkle, a good-natured but lazy man who lives in the Catskill Mountains in New York during the late 18th century.
One day, Rip decides to take a break from his mundane life and his nagging wife by going for a walk in the woods. While there, he encounters a group of strange men playing nine-pins, a form of bowling. The men offer Rip a drink from their keg of liquor, and he eagerly accepts. After drinking from the keg, Rip falls into a deep sleep and wakes up 20 years later.
Upon waking, Rip finds that much has changed in the world. The American Revolution has come and gone, and the newly formed United States has won its independence from Great Britain. Rip also discovers that his wife has died and his children have grown up and moved away.
Rip returns to his village, but is now a stranger in his own home. No one recognizes him or believes his story of sleeping for 20 years. Despite this, Rip is able to find solace in the fact that he no longer has to deal with his nagging wife and can now live a peaceful and carefree life.
"Rip Van Winkle" is a classic American tale that explores themes of change, nostalgia, and the passage of time. It is a charming and humorous story that continues to be enjoyed by readers of all ages.
Old Rip Van Winkle
I was then but a little girl. He looked in vain for the sage Nicholas Vedder, with his broad face, double chin, and fair long pipe, uttering clouds of tobacco smoke, instead of idle speeches; or Van Bummel, the schoolmaster, doling forth the contents of an ancient newspaper. The very character of the people seemed changed. 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. This desolateness overcame all his connubial fears ——he called loudly for his wife and children ——the lonely chambers rang for a moment with his voice, and then all again was silence.
Peter was the most ancient inhabitant of the village, and well versed in all the wonderful events and traditions of the neighborhood. Poor Rip was at last reduced almost to despair; and his only alternative, to escape from the labour of the farm and clamour of his wife, was to take gun in hand and stroll away into the woods. Whenever he went dodging about the village, he was surrounded by a troop of them, hanging on his skirts, clambering on his back, and playing a thousand tricks on him with impunity; and not a dog would bark at him throughout the neighborhood. There were rows of houses which he had never seen before, and those which had been his familiar haunts had disappeared. In the midst of his bewilderment, the man in the cocked hat demanded who he was, and what was his name.
They crowded round him, eyeing him from head to foot, with great curiosity. They play nine pins together, which causes sounds like rolling thunder. 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. 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 vapours about their summits, which, in the last rays of the setting sun, will glow and light up like a crown of glory. Panting and fatigued, he threw himself, late in the afternoon, on a green knoll, covered with mountain 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. He was also a citizen of America under George Washington upon his arrival, which was much different than being a subject. 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.
As he was about to descend, he heard a voice from a distance, hallooing: "Rip Van Winkle! Peter tells the villagers that Hudson visits every twenty years to survey his land. The honest man could contain himself no longer. On nearer approach he was still more surprised at the singularity of the stranger's appearance. His dress was of the antique Dutch fashion: a cloth jerkin strapped round the waist—several pair of breeches, the outer one of ample volume, decorated with rows of buttons down the sides, and bunches at the knees. With a Proem by AUSTIN DOBSON. The men are silent, save for the game, which sounds like rolling thunder.
INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do or cause to occur: a distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, b alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and c any Defect you cause. 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. He can tell stories and play with the town's children, which is what he has always been best equipped to do. The beer is so good that Rip drinks too much and falls into a long sleep. The Kaatsberg or Catskill mountains have always been a region full of fable.
. The dogs, too, not one of which he recognized for an old acquaintance, barked at him as he passed. It is true he was rarely heard to speak, but smoked his pipe incessantly. The very character of the people seemed changed. They are silent and serious, and Rip is initially afraid of them. There were rows of houses which he had never seen before, and those which had been his familiar haunts had disappeared.
Most of the older villagers believe Rip's story and credit the existence of Hudson's spirit. Rip is the antithesis of Dame Van Winkle in that he enjoys an idle and gentle rural life. They crowded round him, eyeing him from head to foot with great curiosity. If displeased, however, she would brew up clouds black as ink, sitting in the midst of them like a bottle-bellied spider in the midst of its web; and when these clouds broke, woe betide the valleys! It could not be for want of assiduity or perseverance; for he would sit on a wet rock, with a rod as long and heavy as a Tartar's lance, and fish all day without a murmur, even though he should not be encouraged by a single nibble. 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. The children of the village, too, would shout with joy whenever he approached.
I was then but a little girl. His son Rip, an urchin begotten in his own likeness, promised to inherit the habits, with the old clothes, of his father. 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. This list is comprised of retailers who have requested that they be added to our site. They all had beards, of various shapes and colours. He was surprised to see any human being in this lonely and unfrequented place, but supposing it to be some one of the neighborhood in need of his assistance, he hastened down to yield it. There was a wooden tombstone in the churchyard that used to tell all about him, but that's rotten and gone too.
He was largely involved in the beginnings of New Amsterdam, which was renamed New York when it was taken over by the English in 1664. Peter claims that Rip encountered the spirit of Henry Hudson, who explored and helped settle the area. . Why, where have you been these twenty long years? His children, too, were as ragged and wild as if they belonged to nobody. At the foot of these fairy mountains, the voyager may have descried 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. He is able to keep the crowds calm as they speak with Rip and ascertain the truth of his identity.
