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The Tale of Sleepy Hollow: Difference between revisions

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Abute two hundred yards from the tree, a small brook flowed thwares the road, and ran into a marshy and thickly wooded glen, known by the name of Wileys Slugh. A few rugh timbers, laid side by side, made up the bridge over this stream. On that side of the road where the brook infared the wood, a cluster of oaks and chistels, matted thick with wild winetrees, threw a widegale gloom over it. To fare this bridge was the sternest work. It was at this stead itself that the wreched André was fanged, and under the shelter of those chistels and winetrees were the yomen hidden who seated hem. This has ever sinse been thought a gastly stream, and fearful are the moods of the knave who has to fare it alone after dark.
 
As he nighed the stream, his heart began to thump; he chied up, huever, all his will, yave his horse ten kicks in the ribs, and fanded to rush cwickly thwares the bridge; but instead of starting forward, the thwire old deer made a sideways swing, and ran broadside ayenst the edder. Ickabod, whose fears waxt with the fristing, firked the lines on the other side, and kickt lustily with the wither foot: it was all for nought; his steed started, it is trew, but it was only to dive to the wither side of the road into a thicket of brambels and aldershrubs. The teacher nu bestowed bo whip and heel on the starveling ribs of old Gundust, who rushed forward, sniffelling and snorting, but came to a stand right by the bridge, with a cwickness that had nearly sent his rider sprawling over his head. Right at this brightom a plashy stamp by the side of the bridge fanged the keen ear of Ickabod. In the dark shadow of the grove, on the edge of the brook, he beheld sumthing ettinish, misshapen and kithingrising. It stirred not, but looked gathered up in the gloom, like sum great fivel ready to spring itself on the wayfarer.
 
The hair of the afrighted teacher rose on his head with brow. What was to be done? To wend and fly was nu too late; and besides, what likelihood was there of atwinding goast or puck, if such it was, which cud ride on the fithers of the wind? Cying up, therefore, a show of dught, he askt it a in a stammering tungfall, “who art thu?” He yat no answer. He eftledged his frain in a still more upset steven. Still there was no answer. Onse more he beat the sides of the unbendenly Gundust, and, shutting his eyes, broke forth with unwillsum ellen into a salm. Right then the shadowy thing of fright put itself shrithing, and with a clatter and a leap stood at onse in the middel of the road. Thaugh the night was dark and lorn, the shape of the unknown might nu in sum way yet be kenned. He looked to be a horseman of great standing, and sat on a black horse of a mighty frame. He made no offer of grill or frendship, but kept cool on one side of the road, clopping along on the blind side of old Gundust, who had nu overcame his fright and waywardness.
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