The Stark County Democrat. [volume] (Canton, Ohio) 1833-1912, 1874-09-17

ampitheatre; but no traces of such OPEN
ing remained. The recks presented u
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 sur
rounding forest Here, then, poor Rip
was brought to stand. He again called
and whistled after his dog; he was only
answered by the cawing of flock of idle
crows, sporting high in air about dry
tree that overhung a sunny precipice;
and who, secure in their elevation,
seemed to look down and scof at the
poor mans pcrplexities What was to
be done?-the morning was passing away
and Rip felt famished for want of his
breakfast. Hegrieved to give up his dog
and his gun; he dreaded to meet his
wife: but it would not do to starve among
the mountains. He shook his head,
shouldered the rusty frelock, and, with
a heart full of trouble and anxiety, turn
ed his steps homeward.
As he approached the village he met n
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 different fash
ion from that to which he was aCcus-
toned They all stared at him with
equal marks of surprise, and, whenever
they cast their eyes upon him, invariably
stroked their chins. The constant recur-
renee of this gesture induced Rip, invol-
nntarily, to do the same-when, to his
astonisnment, 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 heel, hooting after him, and point
ing 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; 1t
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-eyerything
was strange. His mind now misgave
him; he began to doubt whether both he
and the world around him were not be-
witched. Surely this was his native will
age, which he had left but the day be-
fore. There stood the Kaatskill noun
tains-therc ran the silver Hudson at II
distance-there was every hill and dale
precisely as it had always been. Rip was
sorely perplexed. THAT hagon last
night" thought he, "has added my poor
head Sadly.n
1t was with some difficulty that he
found the way to his own house, which
he approached with silent awe, expect
ing every minute 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, bnt the cur
showed his teeth, and passed on.
This was an unkind cut indeed-"My
very dog" sighed poor Rip, "hasf forgotten
me-"
He entered the house, which to tell the
truth, Dame Van Winkle had always
kept in neat order II was empty, for
lorn, and apparently abandoned. The
desolateness overcame all his Connubial
fears-he called loudly for his wife and
children-the lonely chambers rang for
moment with his voice, and thenall again
was silence.
He now hurried out, 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
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 was
now reared tall naked pole, with some
thing on the top that looked like q red
and from it was huttering flag
on which was 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 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 ofa
sceptre, the head was decorated with q
cooked hat, and underneath was painted
in large characters, General Washing
ton"
There Wa, as usual, crowd Of folks
about the door, but none that Rip recol-
lected. The very character Of the people
seemed changed. There was busy,
disputatious tone about it, in
stead Of the accustomed phlegm and
drowsy tranquility. 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
doling forth the contents
Of an ancient newspaper. In place Of
these, q lean, bilious-looking fellow, with
his pockets full of hand-bills, was har-
anguing vehemently about rights of citi-
elections-member of Congress
liberty-Bunker's Hill-heroes Of seven
ty-six-and other words, which were q
perfect Babylonish. jargon to the bewil-
dered 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, cycling him
from head to foot with great curiosity.
The orator hustled up to him, and draw
ing him partly aside, inquired ION which
side he voted?" Rip stared in vacant
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 loss to comprehend the ques-
ton; when knowing, selfimportant old
in a sharp cockade 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 penetrating, as it were,
into his very soul, demanded in an aus
tere tone, "What brought him to the
election with gun on his shoulder, and a
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