The Tale of Sleepy Hollow: Difference between revisions
no edit summary
No edit summary
No edit summary
Such is the oft bearing of this taled offgalth, which has brought antimber for many a wild tale in that land of shadows; and the goast is known at all the upland firesides, by the name of the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow.
It is markworthy that the leaning to swevens I have nemmened is not held only by the inborn leeds of the deen, but is unwittingly drunk in by every man who
I nemmen this frithful stow with all mightly love, for it is in such swethered littel Duch deens, fund here and there inbosomed in the great Rich of New York, that leeds, sids, and wons are steady, while the great flood of fare and bisiness, which is making unending wends in other deals of this restless land, sweeps hem by unhowed. Hy are like those littel hirns of still water, which hem a swift stream, where we may see the straw and bubbel riding stilly at anker, or slowly wharving in hir littel harbor, unshaken by the rush of the nearby farth. Thaugh many years have gone by sinse I trod the drusy shades of Sleepy Hollow, I wunder yet whether I shud not still find the ilk trees and the ilk maiths idelling in its sheltered bosom.
Brom Bones, huever, was the heleth of the setting, having cum to the gathering on his darling steed Daredevil, a wight, like himself, full of dught and play, and which no man but himself cud stightel. He was, in sooth, marked for choosing reeth deer, yeaven to all kinds of prats which kept the rider in unending plee of his neck, for he held a yeelding, wellbroken horse as unworthy of a man of fire.
Fain wud I stall to
He was a kind and thankful wight, whose heart widened in deal as his body was filled with good mirth, and whose goast rose with eating, as sum weres rise with drink. He cud not help too, wharving his great eyes umb him as he ate, and chuckeling with the mightlihood that he one day be lord of all this setting of almost unfathomenly throm and torghtness. Then, he thought, hu soon he wud wend his back on the old lorehuse; snap his fingers in the anlet of Hans Van Ripper, and every other gneed huser, and kick any wandering teacher ute of doors that shud dare to name him frend!
But all these were nothing to the tales of goasts and dwimmers that followed after. The neighborhood is rich in taled sink of the kind. Goasttales and offgalths thee best in these sheltered, long settelled coves, but are trodden under foot by the shifting throng that makes up the leeds of most of ure upland steads. Besides, there is no filst for goasts in most of ure thorps, for hy have hardly had time to end hir first nap and wend hemselves in hir graves, before hir frends still living have fared away from the neighborhood; so that when hy cum ute at night to walk hir ways, hy have no frend left to chy on. This is maybe the inting why we so seldom hear of goasts but for in ure long settelled Duch tunes.
The right inting, huever, for the rifeness of eldrich tales in these lands, was tweeless owing to the neighwist of Sleepy Hollow. There was a sickness in the lift itself that blew from that goastly shire; it breathed forth a whith of swevens and fathomings smitting all the land. Many of the Sleepy Hollow folk were there at Van Tassels, and, as was wont, were doling ute hir wild and wunderful tales. Many sorrowful were told abute beryels, and morning roops and reats heard and seen abute the great tree where the wreched Underheadman André was nimmen, and which stood in the neighborhood. Sum nemmening was made also of the wife in white, that
The withdrawn stow of this church felt always to have made it a darling abode of moodsick goasts. It stands on a knoll, beclipt by codtrees and tall elms, from among which its good, whitewashed walls shine meethfully forth, like Cristen lutterness beaming thrugh the shades of swethering. A slight slope alights from it to a silver sheet of water, hemmed by high trees, between which, peeps may be fanged at the hewn hills of the Hudson. To look on its grassgrown yard, where the sunbeams look to sleep so stilly, man wud think that there at least the dead might rest in frith. On one side of the church streches a wide woody dell, along which winds a great brook among broken stones and stocks of fallen trees. Over a deep black deal 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 threw a gloom abute it, even in the daytime; but brought abute a fearful darkness at night. Such was one of the darling abodes of the Headless Horseman, and the stead where he was most often seen. The tale was told of old Brouwer, a most dwildy unbeleever in goasts, hu he met the Horseman eftcumming from his inroad into Sleepy Hollow, and was bund to yet up behind him; hu hy rode over shrub and brake, over hill and slugh, hent hy raught the bridge; when the Horseman went swiftly into naught but bones, threw old Brouwer into the brook, and sprang away over the treetops with a clap of thunder.
Ickabod, who had no list for this ferly midnight sither, and bethought himself of the rose of Brom Bones with the Riding Hessman, nu cwickened his steed in hopes of leaving him behind. The fremmedling, huever, cwickened his horse to an even step. Ickabod pulled up, and fell into a walk, thinking to slip behind,—the other slowed as well. His heart began to sink within him; he fanded to pick up his salm, but his thirsty tung clove to the roof of his muthe, and he cud not utter a word. There was sumthing in the moody and dogged stillness of this stithe sither that was runy and frightening. It was soon fearfully reched. On climbing a rising grund, which brought the ansen of his sither stark ayenst the heavens, ettinish in highth, and hushed in a loth, Ickabod was fearstricken on ayetting that he was headless!—but his brow was still highthened on ayetting that the head, which shud have rested on his sholders, was born before him on the knap of his saddel! His brow rose to wanhope; he rained a shure of kicks and blows on Gundust, hoping by a swift run to yeave his sither the slip; but the goast started full leap with him. Away, then, hy rushed thrugh thick and thin; stones flying and sparks leeming at every step. Ickabods thin clothing fluttered in the lift, as he straught his long lank body away over his horses head, in the keenness of his flight.
Hy had nu raught the road which bends off to Sleepy Hollow; but Gundust, who looked to be
As yet the fright of the steed had yeaven his uncrafty rider what looked to be a note in the rease, but right as he had yetten halfway thrugh the hollow, the belts of the saddel yave way, and he felt it slipping from under him. He fanged it by the knap, and fanded to hold it fast, but for nought; and had only time to near himself by clasping old Gundust umb the neck, when the saddel fell to the earth, and he heard it stamped under foot by his hunter. For a brightom the fear of Hans Van Rippers wrath went thrugh his mind,—for it was his Sunday saddel; but this was no time for small fears; the puck was hard on his back; and (uncrafty rider that he was!) he had much ado to keep hold of his settel; sumtimes slipping on one side, sumtimes on another, and sumtimes shook on the high ridge of his horses backbone, with a heast that he trewly feared wud cleave him asunder.