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Winkle； with one arm akimbo； the other resting on his cane； his keen
eyes and sharp hat penetrating； as it were； into his very soul；
demanded in an austere tone； 〃what brought him to the election with
a gun on his shoulder； and a mob at his heels； and whether he meant to
breed a riot in the village？〃… 〃Alas！ gentlemen；〃 cried Rip；
somewhat dismayed； 〃I am a poor quiet man； a native of the place；
and a loyal subject of the king； God bless him！〃
Here a general shout burst from the bystanders… 〃A tory！ a tory！ a
spy！ a refugee！ hustle him！ away with him！〃 It was with great
difficulty that the self…important man in the cocked hat restored
order； and； having assumed a ten…fold austerity of brow； demanded
again of the unknown culprit； what he came there for； and whom he
was seeking？ The poor man humbly assured him that he meant no harm；
but merely came there in search of some of his neighbors； who used
to keep about the tavern。
〃Well… who are they？… name them。〃
Rip bethought himself a moment； and inquired； 〃Where's Nicholas
Vedder？〃
There was a silence for a little while； when an old man replied；
in a thin piping voice； 〃Nicholas Vedder！ why； he is dead and gone
these eighteen years！ There was a wooden tombstone in the
church…yard that used to tell all about him； but that's rotten and
gone too。〃
〃Where's Brom Dutcher？〃
〃Oh； he went off to the army in the beginning of the war； some say
he was killed at the storming of Stony Point… others say he was
drowned in a squall at the foot of Antony's Nose。 I don't know… he
never came back again。〃
〃Where's Van Bummel； the schoolmaster？〃
〃He went off to the wars too； was a great militia general； and is
now in congress。〃
Rip's heart died away at hearing of these sad changes in his home
and friends； and finding himself thus alone in the world。 Every answer
puzzled him too； by treating of such enormous lapses of time； and of
matters which he could not understand： war… congress… Stony Point；… he
had no courage to ask after any more friends； but cried out in
despair； 〃Does nobody here know Rip Van Winkle？〃
〃Oh； Rip Van Winkle！〃 exclaimed two or three； 〃Oh； to be sure！
that's Rip Van Winkle yonder； leaning against the tree。〃
Rip looked； and beheld a precise counterpart of himself； as he
went up the mountain： apparently as lazy； and certainly as ragged。 The
poor fellow was now completely confounded。 He doubted his own
identity； and whether he was himself or another man。 In the midst of
his bewilderment； the man in the cocked hat demanded who he was； and
what was his name？
〃God knows；〃 exclaimed he； at his wit's end； 〃I'm not myself… I'm
somebody else… that's me yonder… no… that's somebody else got into
my shoes… I was myself last night； but I fell asleep on the
mountain； and they've changed my gun； and every thing's changed； and
I'm changed； and I can't tell what's my name； or who I am！〃
The bystanders began now to look at each other； nod； wink
significantly； and tap their fingers against their foreheads。 There
was a whisper； also； about securing the gun； and keeping the old
fellow from doing mischief； at the very suggestion of which the
self…important man in the cocked hat retired with some
precipitation。 At this critical moment a fresh comely woman pressed
through the throng to get a peep at the gray…bearded man。 She had a
chubby child in her arms； which； frightened at his looks； began to
cry。 〃Hush； Rip；〃 cried she； 〃hush； you little fool； the old man won't
hurt you。〃 The name of the child； the air of the mother； the tone of
her voice； all awakened a train of recollections in his mind。 〃What is
your name； my good woman？〃 asked he。
〃Judith Gardenier。〃
〃And your father's name？〃
〃Ah； poor man； Rip Van Winkle was his name； but it's twenty years
since he went away from home with his gun； and never has been heard of
since… his dog came home without him； but whether he shot himself；
or was carried away by the Indians； nobody can tell。 I was then but
a little girl。〃
Rip had but one question more to ask； but he put it with a faltering
voice：
〃Where's your mother？〃
〃Oh； she too had died but a short time since； she broke a
blood…vessel in a fit of passion at a New…England peddler。〃
There was a drop of comfort； at least； in this intelligence。 The
honest man could contain himself no longer。 He caught his daughter and
her child in his arms。 〃I am your father！〃 cried he 〃Young Rip Van
Winkle once… old Rip Van Winkle now！… Does nobody know poor Rip Van
Winkle？〃
All stood amazed； until an old woman； tottering out from among the
crowd； put her hand to her brow； and peering under it in his face
for a moment； exclaimed； 〃Sure enough！ it is Rip Van Winkle… it is
himself！ Welcome home again； old neighbor… Why； where have you been
these twenty long years？〃
Rip's story was soon told； for the whole twenty years had been to
him but as one night。 The neighbors stared when they heard it； some
were seen to wink at each other； and put their tongues in their
cheeks： and the self…important man in the cocked hat； who； when the
alarm was over； had returned to the field； screwed down the corners of
his mouth； and shook his head… upon which there was a general
shaking of the head throughout the assemblage。
It was determined； however； to take the opinion of old Peter
Vanderdonk； who was seen slowly advancing up the road。 He was a
descendant of the historian of that name； who wrote one of the
earliest accounts of the province。 Peter was the most ancient
inhabitant of the village； and well versed in all the wonderful events
and traditions of the neighborhood。 He recollected Rip at once； and
corroborated his story in the most satisfactory manner。 He assured the
company that it was a fact； handed down from his ancestor the
historian； that the Kaatskill mountains had always been haunted by
strange beings。 That it was affirmed that the great Hendrick Hudson；
the first discoverer of the river and country； kept a kind of vigil
there every twenty years； with his crew of the Half…moon； being
permitted in this way to revisit the scenes of his enterprise； and
keep a guardian eye upon the river； and the great city called by his
name。 That his father had once seen them in their old Dutch dresses
playing at nine…pins in a hollow of the mountain； and that he
himself had heard； one summer afternoon； the sound of their balls；
like distant peals of thunder。
To make a long story short； the company broke up； and returned to
the more important concerns of the election。 Rip's daughter took him
home to live with her； she had a snug； well…furnished house； and a
stout cheery farmer for a husband； whom Rip recollected for one of the
urchins that used to climb upon his back。 As to Rip's son and heir；
who was the ditto of himself； seen leaning against the tree； he was
employed to work on the farm； but evinced an hereditary disposition to
attend to any thing else but his business。
Rip now resumed his old walks and habits； he soon found many of
his former cronies； though all rather the wo