The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1873-11-01

| IN neat order. IL was empty, lOrlOrn, ana
apparently abandoned. This desolateness
overcame all his eonnubial 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 fastened to
his old resort, the village inn-but it too
was gone. A large rickety wooden build
ing stood in its place, with great gaping
windows, some of them broken and mend
ed 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 lit
tie Dutch inn of yore, there now was rear
ed tall naked poll with something on the
top that looked like red night-cap, and
from it was tluttering flag, on which was a
singular assemblage of stars and stripes;-
all this was strange and incomprehensble.
He recognized on the sign, however. the
ruby face of King George, under which he
had smoked SO many 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 sceptre. the head was decor
ated with Il cooked hat, and underneath
was painted in large characters, GENERAL
| WASHINGTON.
| There was, as usual, crowd of folk
about the door, but none that Rip recol-
lected. The very character of the people
seemed changed. There was busy, bust
ling, disputatious tone about 1t, instead of
the accustomed phlegm and drowsy tran
guilty. He looked in vain for the sage
Nicholas Nedder, with his broad face. dou-
BILE chin, and farlong pipe, uttering clouds
of tobacco smoke instead of idle speeches;
or Van Bummel, the schoolmaster, doing
forth the contents of an ancient newspaper
In place of these, lean, bilious looking
fellow, with the pockets full of hand bills,
was haranguing vehemently about rights
Of electons-members of con-
ss-liberty-Bunkers Hill-heroes of
seventy six-and other words, which were
perfect Babylonsh .jargon to the bewilder-
ed Van Wrinkle.
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, eying him from head
to foot with great curiosity. The orator
hustled up to him, and, drawing him part
| l. 49,. j.
ed ?" Rip stared in vacant Stupidity
Another short but busy little fellow pulled
him by the arm, and, rising on tiptoe, in
quired in his ear, Whether he was Fed
eral or Democrat" Rip was equally at
loss to comprehend the question; when a
knowing, self important old gentleman, in
a sharp cooked 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 Wrinkle, with
one arm akimbe, the other resting on his |
cane, his keen eyes and sharp hat penetrat-
ing, as it were, into his very soul, demand
ed, in an austere tone, "What brought |
him to the election with a gun on his |
shoulder, and mob at his heels; and |
whether he meant to breed a riot in the vii |
lage ?''-" Alas ! gentlemen" cried Rip, |
somewhat dismayed, 81 am poor, quiet
man, native of the place, and loyal sub |
ject of the King, God bless him ~
Here general shout burst from the by |
standers-"A tory tory. a spy a refu- |
gee hustle him away with him ~ 1t |
was with great difficulty that the self-im-
portant man in the cooked hat restored |
order; and, having assumed a ten fold aus
terity of brow, demanded again of the I'M
known 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 aeighbors, who used to keep
about the tavern.
Well-who are they name them"
Rip bethought himself moment and |
inquired, "where's Nicholas Vedder?'
There was a silence for little while,
when an old man replied, in 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 lie Was
killed at the storming of Stony Point-oth-
ers say he was drowned in quail at the |
foot Of Antony's Nose. don't know-he
never came back again"
where's Van Bummel, the schoolmas-
ter 90
"He went off to the wars too, was a
great militia general, and is now in con-
gress.'
Rips heart died away at hearing ofthese
sad changes in his home and friends, and |
finding himself thus alone in the world. |
Every answer puzzled him too, by treat
ing of such enormous lapses of time, and
of matters which he could not understand:
courage to ask after any more friends, but |
cried out in despair, "Does no one here
know Rip Van Winkle?''
CO. Rip Van Winkle.' exclaimed two
or three, sob, to be sure ! that's Rip Van
Wrinkle yonder, leaning against the tree"
Rip looked, and beheld precise eoun-
tcrpart of himself. as he went up the noun
tain; apparently as lazy, and certainly as
ragged. The poor fellow was now COM
pletcly confounded. He doubted his own |
identity, and whether he was himself or
another man. In the midst of his bewil-
derment, the man in the cooked hat de- |
manded who he was, and what was his
name.
"God knows exclaimed he, at his
wits end; "Im not myself-I'm somebody
else-that's me OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES some
body else got into my shoes-I was myself
last night, but I fell asleep on the noun
tain, and they've changed my gun, and
everything's changed and I'm changed,
and can't tell what's my name, or who
T am ~