The Birmingham age-herald. [volume] (Birmingham, Ala.) 1902-1950, 1910-05-01

rags-a strong contrast to the neat, we'll
KEEP. tavern of Nicholas Vedder. And over
the door was sign announcing that the
place was the Union Hotel, kept by JON
athan Doolittle." Where the great tree
useu to stand-that tree under whose
grateful shade Rip had reposed himself
Sd often upon comfortable bench-now
stood a great, bare pole with something
that looked like a red. wooden nightcap
OH the top of it. Also from this high pole
was fluttering a strange flag, the like OF
which Rip never had seen before-a flag
composed of stripes and stars. But he
recognized with something Eke thrill
one object. 1t was the swinging sign
which formerly waved in the breezes be-
fore the inn of Nicholas Vedder. There
upon it still glowed the rubicund counte-
nance of King George-familiar and
grateful sight to bewildered Rip. But
they had worked some changes even in
that sign. On the head was a cooked hat,
the red coat had been changed to one of
buff and blue, and the scepter which his
most gracious majesty held upright and
royalty in his right hand had been paint
cu ONci intO d uidWn oWOio, Wine pS
meath the picture thus altered was the
legend, George washington"
There was, as usual, a crowd of peo-
Pile before the door of the inn, and among
them Rip peered anxiously for glimpse
of the sage Nicholas Vedder, or his friend
Van Bummel, the schoomaster-or any
of his old associates. Not person among
those he saw could he remember
ever to have seen before. The very char
acter of the people had changed. Instead
of the calm, contemplative. philosophical
speech and manner which had character
lied the gathering usually seen before the
tavern, he now saw busy, bustling, dis
putatious lot of people. Where Van Bum
mel had once sat quietly droning out the
contents of month old newspaper to a
thoughtful and tranquil audience, now
stood a thin. nervous, bilious-looking fell
low with his pockets full of handbills,
which he distributed from time to time
among the crowd while he harangued
them about liberty and Bunker HILL and
many other matters new and strange TO
Rip, so that his language was a perfect
jargon to the astounded Van Wrinkle. And
the landlord, where was he, that sage
Nicholas vedder with his fair long pipe
uttering clouds of tobacco smoke, instead
of idle words?
The appearance of Rip with his ragged
clothes, his long beard and his rusty
fowling piece, accompanied by the crowd
of women and children which had gath
cred about his heels, soon took the at
| tantion of the crowd from the bilious
| looking orator and the politicians gath
| cred about him with wondering eyes
| looking at him with keen scrutiny from
head to foot. The orator hustled up tc
him and asked him upon which side he
voted-democrat or federalist' The ques
ton was all Greek to Rip, who stared al
his questioner in mute establishment. JUS
then knowing, self-important man in q
cooked hat pushed his way through the
crowd and planting himself squarely- be.
| fore Rip demanded in an authoritative
| tone to know what he meant by coming
to the election with a gun In his hands
and a mob at his heels; and whether hi
intended to breed riot?
Alas, gentlemen, cried the trembling
Rip. II am a poor inoffensive man; e
native of this village and loyal sub
ject of King George, God bless him. A
great and universal cry arose from the
assembly. "A tory! A spy! A refugee
Hustle him! Away with him." 1t wa!
with the greatest difficulty that the i'm
portant gentleman in the cooked hat pre-
vented some of them from laying violen
hands upon Rip and finally restored or
der. .e.f 'as
Then assuming a manner of tenfolt
austerity the important gentleman de-
manded of the culprit, Who he was
| why he came there and what he wa.
seeking Poor Rip replied that h,
meant no harm to anybody; that h,
only came to look for his friends whit
used to congregate about the tavern
door. WELL" replied Mr.. Importance
who are they-name them?" Ri
4 thought for. a moment and then said
Where is Nicholas vedder?' There wa
silence for a minute and then an oil
man in a thin, piping voice replied
Nicholas Vedder? why he is dead an,
gone these eighteen years. There wa
a wooden tombstone in the yillag
churchyard that used to tell about hin
but that's rotten and gone, too.
where's Brom Dutcher?" asked Rir
"Oh, he went off to the war and wa
killed at the storming of Stony Point
some say he was drowned in a squal
at the foot of Anthonys Nose. don
know. 1 know he never came bacl
again." where's Van Bummel, TIL
schoolmaster?" demanded Rip, and tn
thin, piping voice replied. HE is nov
in Congress" Rips heart died within
4 him. What was all this-wars and Con
gress? Were all his old friends dea
and he alone in the world?
At last in desperation, he cried GU
a pathetic and beseeching voice: Doe
anybody here know Rip Van Wrinkle :?
"Oh, Rip Van Wrinkle" replied severa
voices at once, "of course, we all know
Rip Van Wrinkle. That's Rip Val
Wrinkle leaning against the tree owe
yonder" Rip turned and looked in tn
direction in which they pointed an,
there, leaning idly and lazily agains
a tree, was young man with his hand
In his pockets and an air of profoun,
repose upon his face-the exact coun
terpart of himself as he had been tina
day when he wandered forth with VOL
and his gun into the mountains to tast
that fatal fiagon with the weird bowl
ers. He began to doubt his own iden
tity and was so fairly bewildered tina
when the man with the cooked hat de
manded in stern voice what his nam
was and where he belonged, the poo
man, at his wits end, replied: go