the legend of sleepy hollow-第6节

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historian；　but　did　ample　justice　to　every　dainty。



　　　　He　was　a　kind　and　thankful　creature；　whose　heart　dilated　in　

proportion　as　his　skin　was　filled　with　good　cheer；　and　whose　

spirits　rose　with　eating；　as　some　men's　do　with　drink。　　He　could　

not　help；　too；　rolling　his　large　eyes　round　him　as　he　ate；　and　

chuckling　with　the　possibility　that　he　might　one　day　be　lord　of　

all　this　scene　of　almost　unimaginable　luxury　and　splendor。　　Then；　

he　thought；　how　soon　he　'd　turn　his　back　upon　the　old　

schoolhouse；　snap　his　fingers　in　the　face　of　Hans　Van　Ripper；　and　

every　other　niggardly　patron；　and　kick　any　itinerant　pedagogue　

out　of　doors　that　should　dare　to　call　him　comrade！



　　　　Old　Baltus　Van　Tassel　moved　about　among　his　guests　with　a　

face　dilated　with　content　and　goodhumor；　round　and　jolly　as　the　

harvest　moon。　　His　hospitable　attentions　were　brief；　but　

expressive；　being　confined　to　a　shake　of　the　hand；　a　slap　on　the　

shoulder；　a　loud　laugh；　and　a　pressing　invitation　to　〃fall　to；　

and　help　themselves。〃



　　　　And　now　the　sound　of　the　music　from　the　common　room；　or　

hall；　summoned　to　the　dance。　　The　musician　was　an　old　gray…headed　

negro；　who　had　been　the　itinerant　orchestra　of　the　neighborhood　

for　more　than　half　a　century。　　His　instrument　was　as　old　and　

battered　as　himself。　　The　greater　part　of　the　time　he　scraped　on　

two　or　three　strings；　accompanying　every　movement　of　the　bow　with　

a　motion　of　the　head；　bowing　almost　to　the　ground；　and　stamping　

with　his　foot　whenever　a　fresh　couple　were　to　start。



　　　　Ichabod　prided　himself　upon　his　dancing　as　much　as　upon　his　

vocal　powers。　　Not　a　limb；　not　a　fibre　about　him　was　idle；　and　to　

have　seen　his　loosely　hung　frame　in　full　motion；　and　clattering　

about　the　room；　you　would　have　thought　St。　Vitus　himself；　that　

blessed　patron　of　the　dance；　was　figuring　before　you　in　person。　　

He　was　the　admiration　of　all　the　negroes；　who；　having　gathered；　

of　all　ages　and　sizes；　from　the　farm　and　the　neighborhood；　stood　

forming　a　pyramid　of　shining　black　faces　at　every　door　and　

window；　gazing　with　delight　at　the　scene；　rolling　their　white　

eye…balls；　and　showing　grinning　rows　of　ivory　from　ear　to　ear。　　

How　could　the　flogger　of　urchins　be　otherwise　than　animated　and　

joyous？　the　lady　of　his　heart　was　his　partner　in　the　dance；　and　

smiling　graciously　in　reply　to　all　his　amorous　oglings；　while　

Brom　Bones；　sorely　smitten　with　love　and　jealousy；　sat　brooding　

by　himself　in　one　corner。



　　　　When　the　dance　was　at　an　end；　Ichabod　was　attracted　to　a　

knot　of　the　sager　folks；　who；　with　Old　V　an　Tassel；　sat　smoking　

at　one　end　of　the　piazza；　gossiping　over　former　times；　and　

drawing　out　long　stories　about　the　war。

This　neighborhood；　at　the　time　of　which　I　am　speaking；　was　one　of　

those　highly　favored　places　which　abound　with　chronicle　and　great　

men。　　The　British　and　American　line　had　run　near　it　during　the　

war；　it　had；　therefore＇；　been　the　scene　of　marauding　and　infested　

with　refugees；　cow…boys；　and　all　kinds　of　border　chivalry。　　Just　

sufficient　time　had　elapsed　to　enable　each　story…teller　to　dress　

up　his　tale　with　a　little　becoming　fiction；　and；　in　the　

indistinctness　of　his　recollection；　to　make　himself　the　hero　of　

every　exploit。



　　　　There　was　the　story　of　Doffue　Martling；　a　large　blue…bearded　

Dutchman；　who　had　nearly　taken　a　British　frigate　with　an　old　iron　

nine…pounder　from　a　mud　breastwork；　only　that　his　gun　burst　at　

the　sixth　discharge。　　And　there　was　an　old　gentleman　who　shall　be　

nameless；　being　too　rich　a　mynheer　to　be　lightly　mentioned；　who；　

in　the　battle　of　White　Plains；　being　an　excellent　master　of　

defence；　parried　a　musket…ball　with　a　small…sword；　insomuch　that　

he　absolutely　felt　it　whiz　round　the　blade；　and　glance　off　at　the　

hilt；　in　proof　of　which　he　was　ready　at　any　time　to　show　the　

sword；　with　the　hilt　a　little　bent。　　There　were　several　more　that　

had　been　equally　great　in　the　field；　not　one　of　whom　but　was　

persuaded　that　he　had　a　considerable　hand　in　bringing　the　war　to　

a　happy　termination。



　　　　But　all　these　were　nothing　to　the　tales　of　ghosts　and　

apparitions　that　succeeded。　　The　neighborhood　is　rich　in　legendary　

treasures　of　the　kind。　　Local　tales　and　superstitions　thrive　best　

in　these　sheltered；　long　settled　retreats；　but　are　trampled　under　

foot　by　the　shifting　throng　that　forms　the　population　of　most　of　

our　country　places。　　Besides；　there　is　no　encouragement　for　ghosts　

in　most　of　our　villages；　for　they　have　scarcely　had　time　to　

finish　their　first　nap　and　turn　themselves　in　their　graves；　

before　their　surviving　friends　have　travelled　away　from　the　

neighborhood；　so　that　when　they　turn　out　at　night　to　walk　their　

rounds；　they　have　no　acquaintance　left　to　call　upon。　　This　is　

perhaps　the　reason　why　we　so　seldom　hear　of　ghosts　except　in　our　

long…established　Dutch　communities。



　　　　The　immediate　cause；　however；　of　the　prevalence　of　

supernatural　stories　in　these　parts；　was　doubtless　owing　to　the　

vicinity　of　Sleepy　Hollow。　　There　was　a　contagion　in　the　very　air　

that　blew　from　that　haunted　region；　it　breathed　forth　an　

atmosphere　of　dreams　and　fancies　infecting　all　the　land。　　Several　

of　the　Sleepy　Hollow　people　were　present　at　Van　Tassel's；　and；　as　

usual；　were　doling　out　their　wild　and　wonderful　legends。　　Many　

dismal　tales　were　told　about　funeral　trains；　and　mourning　cries　

and　wailings　heard　and　seen　about　the　great　tree　where　the　

unfortunate　Major　Andre　was　taken；　and　which　stood　in　the　

neighborhood。　　Some　mention　was　made　also　of　the　woman　in　white；　

that　haunted　the　dark　glen　at　Raven　Rock；　and　was　often　heard　to　

shriek　on　winter　nights　before　a　storm；　having　perished　there　in　

the　snow。　　The　chief　part　of　the　stories；　however；　turned　upon　the　

favorite　spectre　of　Sleepy　Hollow；　the　Headless　Horseman；　who　had　

been　heard　several　times　of　late；　patrolling　the　country；　and；　it　

was　said；　tethered　his　horse　nightly　among　the　graves　in　the　

churchyard。



　　　　The　sequestered　situation　of　this　church　seems　always　to　

have　made　it　a　favorite　haunt　of　troubled　spirits。　　It　stands　on　a　

knoll；　surrounded　by　locust；　trees　and　lofty　elms；　from　among　

which　its　decent；　whitewashed　walls　shine　modestly　forth；　like　

Christian　purity　beaming　through　the　shades　of　retirement。　　A　

gentle　slope　descends　from　it　to　a　silver　sheet　of　water；　

bordered　by　high　trees；　between　which；　peeps　may　be　caught　at　the　

blue　hills　of　the　Hudson。　　To　look　upon　its　grass…grown　yard；　

where　the　sunbeams　seem　to　sleep　so　quietly；　one　would　think　that　

there　at　least　the　dead　might　rest　in　peace。　　On　one　side　of　the　

church　extends　a　wide　woody　dell；　along　which　raves　a　large　brook　

among　broken　rocks　and　trunks　of　fallen　trees。　　Over　a　deep　black　

part　of　the　stream；　not　far　from　the　church；　was　formerly　thrown　

a　wooden　bridge；　the　road　that　led　to　it；　and　the　bridge　itself；　

were　thickly　shaded　by　overhanging　trees；　which　cast　a　gloom　

about　it；　even　in　the　daytime；　but　occasioned　a　fearful　darkness　

at　night。　　Such　was　one　of　the　favorite　haunts　of　the　Headless　

Horseman；　and　the　place　where　he　was　most　frequently　encountered。　　

The　tale　was　told　of　old　Brouwer；　a　most　heretical　disbeliever　in　

ghosts；　how　he　met　the　Horseman　returning　from　his　foray　into　

Sleepy　Hollow；　and　was　obliged　to　get　up　behind　him；　how　they　

galloped　over　bush　and　brake；　over　hill　and　swamp；　until　they　

reached　the　bridge；　when　the　Horseman　suddenly　turned　into　a　

skeleton；　threw　old　Brouwer　into　the　brook；　and　sprang　away　over　

the　tree…tops　with　a　clap　of　thunder。



　　　　This　story　was　immediately　matched　by　a　thrice　marvellous　

adventure　of　Brom　Bones；　who　made　light　of　the　Galloping　Hessian　

as　an　arrant　jockey。　　He　affirmed　that　on　returning　one　night　from　

the　neighboring　village　of　Sing　Sing；　he　had　been　overtaken　by　

this　midnight　trooper；　that　he　had　offered　to　race　with　him　for　a　

bowl　of　punch；　and　should　have　won　it　too；　for　Daredevil　beat　the　

goblin　horse　all　hollow；　but　just　as　they　came　to　the　church　

bridge；　the　Hessian　bolted；　and　vanished　in　a　flash　of　fire。



　　　　All　these　tales；　told　in　that　drowsy　undertone　with　which　

men　talk　in　the　dark；　the　countenances　of　the　listeners　only　now　

and　then　receiving　a　casual　gleam　from　the　glare　of　a　pipe；　sank　

deep　in　the　mind　of　Ichabod。　　He　repaid　them　in　kind　with　large　

extracts　from　his　invaluable　author；　Cotton　Mather；　and　added　

many　marvellous　events　that　had　taken　place　in　his　native　State　

of　Connecticut；　and　fearful　sights　which　he　had　seen　in　his　

nightly　walks　about　Sleepy　Hollow。



　　　　The　revel　now　gradually　broke　up。　　The　old　farmers　gathered　

together　their　families　in　their　wagons；　and　were　heard　for　some　

time　rattling　along　the　hollow　roads；　and　over　the　distant　hills。　　

Some　of　the　damsels　mounted　on　pillions　behind　their　favorite　

swains；　and　their　light…hearted　laughter；　mingling　with　the