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The Tale of Sleepy Hollow: Difference between revisions

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The small birds were having hir farewell simbels. In the fullness of hir merrimake, hy fluttered, chirping and playing from shrub to shrub, and tree to tree, whimsy only from the fulth and sundry abute hem. There was the good cock ruddock, the darling game of the yong hunter, with its lude cwavering pich; and the twittering blackbirds flying in cludes of bleck; and the golden fithered woodpecker with his bloodred cop, his broad black halse, and thromly feathers; and the chedderbird, with its redtipt fithers and yellowtipt tail and its littel hunting cap of feathers; and the hewnbird, that lude coxcomb, in his winful light hewn hackel and white underclothes, shreeing and chattering, nodding and bobbing and buing, and lichetting to be in good standing with every songster of the grove.
 
As Ickabod went slowly on his way, his eye, ever open to every token of foodfulth, flew with win over the sink of merry harvest. On all sides he beheld a great stock of appels; sum hanging in sweer wealth on the trees; sum gathered into leeps and biddens for cheapstow; others drawn up in rich heaps for the wring. Farther on he beheld great feelds of Indish corn, with its golden ears peeping from hir leafy shelter, and holding ute thea dreamsweven of kiches and oatmeal; and the yellow curvets lying beneath hem, rearing hir fair sinwelt bellies to the sun, and yeaving heavy hopes of the richest of bakes; and anon he fared by the sweet buckwheat feelds breathing the smell of the beehive, and as he beheld hem, soft forethoughts stole over his mind of littel pankiches, well buttered, and topt with hunny and treehunny, by the nesh littel hand of Katrina Van Tassel.
 
Thus feeding his mind with many sweet thoughts and “sweetened weenings,” he fared along the sides of a row of hills which look ute on sum of the goodliest sights of the mighty Hudson. The sun stepwise wheeled his broad shive dune in the west. The wide bosom of the Tappan Zee lay still and glassy, but that here and there a soft shrithing waved and lengthened the farlen barrows hewn shadow. A few elksand cludes floated in the heavens, withute a breath of lift to blow hem. The liftline was a good golden hew, wending stepwise into a lutter appel green, and from that into the deep hewn of the midheaven. A sloping beam tarried on the woody ridges of the cliffs that overhanged sum deals of the ea, yeaving greater depth to the dark grey and welkred of hir stony sides. A sloop was tarrying far off, dropping slowly dune with the tide, her sail hanging bootlessly ayenst the mast; and as the glass of the heavens gleamed along the still water, it looked as if the ship was seemed in the lift.
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