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The Tale of Sleepy Hollow: Difference between revisions

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As Ickabod nied þiss fearful tree, he began to whistel; he þawt his whistel was ansered; it was but a blast sweeping scarply þro þe dry buws. As he drew a littel nearer, he þawt he saw sumþing white, hanging in þe midst of þe tree; he stalled and stopt whisteling but, on looking more narowly, saw þat it was a sted whare þe tree had been rined by litening, and þe white wood laid bare. At onse he herd a groan—his teeþ cattered, and his knees smote ayenst þe saddel: it was but þe gniding of won grate buw upon anoþer, as hie wer swayed abute by þe wind. He went by þe tree in sickerhood, but new plites lay before him.
 
Abute two hundred yards from þe tree, a small brook flowed þwares þe road, and ran into a marscy and þickly wooded glen, known by þe name of Wileys Sluw. A few ruff timbers, laid side by side, made up þe bridge ofer þiss stream. On þat side of þe road whare þe brook infared þe wood, a cluster of oaks and cestnutscistels, matted þick wiþ wild winetrees, þrew a widegale gloom ofer it. To fare þiss bridge was þe sternest fand. It was at þiss sted itself þat þe wreced André was fanged, and under þe scelter of þose cestnutscistels and winetrees wer þe yomen hidden hoo seated hem. Þiss has efer sinse been þawt a dwimmered stream, and fearful ar þe feelings of þe knafe hoo has to fare it alone after dark.
 
As he nied þe stream, his hart began to þump; he cied up, huwefer, all his will, yafe his horse ten kicks in þe ribs, and fanded to rusce cwickly þwares þe bridge; but insted of starting forward, þe þwire old dere made a sideways swing, and ran brodside ayenst þe edder. Ickabod, hoos fears waxt wiþ þe fristing, firked þe lines on þe oþer side, and kicked lustily wiþ þe wiþer foot: it was all for nawt; his steed started, it is trew, but it was only to dife to þe wiþer side of þe road into a þicket of brambels and alder busces. Þe teacer nuw bestowed boþe whip and heel upon þe starfeling ribs of old Gundust, hoo rusced forward, sniffeling and snorting, but came to a stand rite by þe bridge, wiþ a cwickness þat had nearly sent his rider sprawling ofer his hed. Rite at þiss britom a plascy tramp by þe side of þe bridge fanged þe keen ear of Ickabod. In þe dark scaddow of þe grofe, on þe edge of þe brook, he beheld sumþing ettinische, misscapen and kiþing. It stirred not, but seemed gaþered up in þe gloom, like sum grate fifel reddy to spring upon þe wayfarer.
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