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name； but all in vain； the echoes repeated his whistle and shout；
but no dog was to be seen。
He determined to revisit the scene of the last evening's gambol； and
if he met with any of the party； to demand his dog and gun。 As he rose
to walk； he found himself stiff in the joints； and wanting in his
usual activity。 〃These mountain beds do not agree with me；〃 thought
Rip； 〃and if this frolic should lay me up with a fit of the
rheumatism； I shall have a blessed time with Dame Van Winkle。〃 With
some difficulty he got down into the glen： he found the gully up which
he and his companion had ascended the preceding evening； but to his
astonishment a mountain stream was now foaming down it； leaping from
rock to rock； and filling the glen with babbling murmurs。 He； however；
made shift to scramble up its sides； working his toilsome way
through thickets of birch； sassafras； and witch…hazel； and sometimes
tripped up or entangled by the wild grapevines that twisted their
coils or tendrils from tree to tree； and spread a kind of network in
his path。
At length he reached to where the ravine had opened through the
cliffs to the amphitheatre； but no traces of such opening remained。
The rocks presented a high impenetrable wall over which the torrent
came tumbling in a sheet of feathery foam； and fell into a broad
deep basin； black from the shadows of the surrounding forest。 Here；
then； poor Rip was brought to a stand。 He again called and whistled
after his dog； he was only answered by the cawing of a flock of idle
crows； sporting high in air about a dry tree that overhung a sunny
precipice； and who； secure in their elevation； seemed to look down and
scoff at the poor man's perplexities。 What was to be done？ the morning
was passing away； and Rip felt famished for want of his breakfast。
He grieved to give up his dog and gun； he dreaded to meet his wife；
but it would not do to starve among the mountains。 He shook his
head； shouldered the rusty firelock； and； with a heart full of trouble
and anxiety； turned his steps homeward。
As he approached the village he met a number of people； but none
whom he knew； which somewhat surprised him； for he had thought himself
acquainted with every one in the country round。 Their dress； too；
was of a different fashion from that to which he was accustomed。
They all stared at him with equal marks of surprise； and whenever they
cast their eyes upon him； invariably stroked their chins。 The constant
recurrence of this gesture induced Rip； involuntarily； to do the same；
when； to his astonishment； he found his beard had grown a foot long！
He had now entered the skirts of the village。 A troop of strange
children ran at his heels； hooting after him； and pointing at his gray
beard。 The dogs； too； not one of which he recognized for an old
acquaintance； barked at him as he passed。 The very village was
altered； it was larger and more populous。 There were rows of houses
which he had never seen before； and those which had been his
familiar haunts had disappeared。 Strange names were over the doors…
strange faces at the windows… every thing was strange。 His mind now
misgave him； he began to doubt whether both he and the world around
him were not bewitched。 Surely this was his native village； which he
had left but the day before。 There stood the Kaatskill mountains…
there ran the silver Hudson at a distance… there was every hill and
dale precisely as it had always been… Rip was sorely perplexed…
〃That flagon last night；〃 thought he； 〃has addled my poor head sadly！〃
It was with some difficulty that he found the way to his own
house； which he approached with silent awe； expecting every moment
to hear the shrill voice of Dame Van Winkle。 He found the house gone
to decay… the roof fallen in； the windows shattered； and the doors off
the hinges。 A half…starved dog that looked like Wolf was skulking
about it。 Rip called him by name； but the cur snarled； showed his
teeth； and passed on。 This was an unkind cut indeed… 〃My very dog；〃
sighed poor Rip； 〃has forgotten me！〃
He entered the house； which； to tell the truth； Dame Van Winkle
had always kept in neat order。 It was empty； forlorn； and apparently
abandoned。 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。
He now hurried forth； and hastened to his old resort； the village
inn… but it too was gone。 A large rickety wooden building stood in its
place； with great gaping windows； some of them broken and mended
with old hats and petticoats； and over the door was painted； 〃The
Union Hotel； by Jonathan Doolittle。〃 Instead of the great tree that
used to shelter the quiet little Dutch inn of yore； there now was
reared a tall naked pole； with something on the top that looked like a
red night…cap； and from it was fluttering a flag； on which was a
singular assemblage of stars and stripes… all this was strange and
incomprehensible。 He recognized on the sign； however； the ruby face of
King George； under which he had smoked so many a peaceful pipe； but
even this was singularly metamorphosed。 The red coat was changed for
one of blue and buff； a sword was held in the hand instead of a
sceptre； the head was decorated with a cocked hat； and underneath
was painted in large characters； GENERAL WASHINGTON。
There was； as usual； a crowd of folk about the door； but none that
Rip recollected。 The very character of the people seemed changed。
There was a busy； bustling； disputatious tone about it； instead of the
accustomed phlegm and drowsy tranquillity。 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。 In place of these； a lean； bilious…looking
fellow； with his pockets full of handbills； was haranguing
vehemently about rights of citizens… elections… members of congress…
liberty… Bunker's Hill… heroes of seventy…six… and other words；
which were a perfect Babylonish jargon to the bewildered Van Winkle。
The appearance of Rip； with his long grizzled beard； his rusty
fowling…piece； his uncouth dress； and an army of women and children at
his heels； soon attracted the attention of the tavern politicians。
They crowded round him； eyeing him from head to foot with great
curiosity。 The orator bustled up to him； and； drawing him partly
aside； inquired 〃on which side he voted？〃 Rip stared in vacant
stupidity。 Another short but busy little fellow pulled him by the arm；
and； rising on tiptoe； inquired in his ear； 〃Whether he was Federal or
Democrat？〃 Rip was equally at a loss to comprehend the question；
when a knowing； self…important old gentleman； in a sharp cocked hat；
made his way through the crowd； putting them to the right and left
with his elbows as he passed； and planting himself before Van
Winkle； with one arm akimbo； the other resting on his cane； his keen
eyes and sharp hat penet