What’s The Irony In Rip Van Winkle?

He even set up a carriage in the fulness of his vainglory, though he nearly starved the horses which drew it; and because the ungreased wheels groaned and screeched on the axle-trees, you’ll have thought you heard the souls of the poor debtors he was squeezing. Tom Walker, nonetheless, was not a person to be anxious with any fears of the kind. He reposed himself for some music time on the trunk of a fallen hemlock, listening to the boding cry of the tree-toad, and delving along with his walking-staff right into a mound of black mould at his toes. As he turned up the soil unconsciously, his workers struck against one thing hard. A cloven cranium, with an Indian tomahawk buried deep in it, lay before him.

In place of those, a lean, bilious-looking fellow, together with his pockets filled with handbills, was haranguing vehemently about rights of citizens—elections—members of congress—liberty—Bunker’s Hill—heroes of seventy-six—and different phrases, which were an ideal Babylonish jargon to the bewildered Van Winkle. In that very same village, and in one of these very homes (which, to tell the precise fact, was sadly time-worn and weather-beaten), there lived a few years since, whereas the country was but a province of Great Britain, a simple good-natured fellow of the name of Rip Van Winkle. He was a descendant of the Van Winkles who figured so gallantly in the chivalrous days of Peter Stuyvesant, and accompanied him to the siege of Fort Christina. He inherited, nevertheless, but little of the martial character of his ancestors. I really have noticed that he was a easy good-natured man; he was, moreover, a kind neighbor, and an obedient hen-pecked husband. Indeed, to the latter circumstance could be owing that meekness of spirit which gained him such common popularity; for these men are most apt to be obsequious and conciliating abroad, who are under the self-discipline of shrews at home.

Sometimes he would assume the type of a bear, a panther, or a deer, lead the bewildered hunter a weary chase through tangled forests and among ragged rocks; after which spring off with a loud ho! Leaving him aghast on the brink of a beetling precipice or raging torrent. Rip now resumed his old walks and habits; he quickly found many of his former cronies, though all rather the worse for the damage and tear of time; and most well-liked making friends among the rising era, with whom he soon grew into nice favor. “Oh, she too had died but a quick while since; she broke a blood-vessel in a fit of passion at a New-England peddler.”

I may do it by guess, I moved it cautiously up or down, until my consideration was arrested by a round rift or opening in the foliage of a big tree that overtopped its fellows in the distance. In the centre of this rift I perceived a white spot, however could not, at first, distinguish what it was. On the opposite facet he appeared down right into a deep mountain glen, wild, lonely, and shagged, the bottom filled with fragments from the approaching cliffs, and scarcely lighted by the reflected rays of the setting sun.

This street leads via a sandy hole shaded by trees for about a quarter of a mile, the place it crosses the bridge famous in goblin story; and simply beyond swells the green knoll on which stands the whitewashed church. This story was instantly matched by a thrice marvellous journey of Brom Bones, who made mild of the Galloping Hessian as an arrant jockey. Prise, and keep a guardian eye upon the river and the nice city called by his name. His father had as soon as seen them in their old Dutch clothes playing at ninepins in a hole of the mountain; and he himself had heard, one summer afternoon, the sound of their balls, like distant peals of thunder. He entered the house, which, to tell the truth, Dame Van Winkle had all the time stored in neat order. He referred to as loudly for his wife and children—the lonely chambers rang for a second together with his voice, after which all again was silence.

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