Evening star., 1921-07-24
CLARIFIED
CLASSICS
RIP yam WINKLE.
Washington Irving.)

haSSock-like at the foot OF tne
Kaatskill mountains. lived pa
tient straw chewer named Rip
Van Wrinkle. Rip was master OF
shrewish wife. several underclad ur-
chins, an everfailing farm. a dog,
"wolf," and the art of dodging work.
One day (perhaps about the year
1860 Mrs. Van Wrinkle finished tidy
ihg the house extra early and. feeling
full of pep. bore forth in search of her
connubial opponent to vent her spleen
upon. At the Inn of Nicholas Yedder,
tilted back under a portrait OF H. X.
NJ. George the Thrice. sat Rip, in
speed demon whiting contest with
the schoolmaster. '..l
Wolf" sprawled beside his master.
spotted the Dame first. He let out
yelp drew his tail under him like
snail does its horns, and stood at
shivering attention while she drew
nearer.
"Ill bet my frau's in the. offing,"
whispered Rip. That dog O. mines
regular barometer when it comes to
foretelling a storm. My wife in ac-
tion makes a steam calliope sound
like new baby cooling. She's tongue
tied-tongue's tied in the middle, and
flaps at each end"
Suddenly he felt an ungentle tug at
his earn
"Howdy do, please mann: Mrs. Van
Wrinkle. was you having me PACED?
was just allowing that I'd run home
and plant out that corn-t and Rip
was lifted home by loosely jointed ear.
AS he passed through the house on
the way to the field. Rips hand
instinctively latched on to his mus
Eet. Wolf was waiting.
Never mind. Wolf me lad" sighed
Rip. you do lead a CANNES existence.
I wish witches would stick to riding
Iroomsticks instead O. beating dogs
with 'em. 1 guess 1t amt no use to
plant this corn today. The ole fields
got spinal meningitis and falling
arches. without giving it corns. Let's
go snipe squirrel.
Soon they hit the hills. and ambled
to the highest peak. The sun was
sneaking out of sight. Rip sighed
1t was time to go back-and catch it
for not planting the corn. Just then
he heard his name called.
He went down to see who it could
be. Coming up the hill, almost bend
ing double under the weight of a
huge keg. was short bushy affair
dressed in leather Dutch jerkin. In
silence he greeted Rip. and motioned
to him to help with the keg. AS they
stumbled along. Rip heard long roll
ing peals. like thunder. Wolf acted
like a peeved cat, and even Rips
back had SO many goosebumps on it
that he looked like frog.
They reached sort of amphitheater
and found a whole company of dittoes
TO his travelling companion playing at
ninepins. with never the crevice Of
as they approached. and Rips COM
panion emptied the contents Of the
keg into large fagons. and made signs
for him to serve the drinks. After
serving all the silent little men, Rip
poured himself a lusty wallop and
sat down to quaff.
"Hootch. by gum" he chortled Real
mountain dew! No home brew about
this. Here's to you, little merry men,
may you liye long and broad"
Wolf" he wheezed over his third,
whats the bigges' things cats kill?-
kattskill mountains! Wolf, you ought
5ss Ts s1 sef sssSt 1ad Z; fan Ep
sions. and laughed himself to sleep.
,,;vien When he he az, aXeke ss, tie be-, sun n was
wolf. but he dog has stravsd cr.
He reached TOR His Hua. 1t was
rusty and bent. He +scitleree down
the mountain side thinking OF all
sorts of .:ick friend, gags to ny out
on the dame. AS he relrhe1 town
strange dogs ba:Kel at him. Houses
looked diffe ont. His cwn house
grinned at him through broken. dusty
shutters.
UCOME grade a bouillon them little
merry men handed out" he de-
cided as. he saw how different the
inn looked. He asked for Nicholas
vedder. and they told him Nick had
pegged out eighteen yeas ago. Then
the strange men asked him what
ticket he voted, and he was gcing
to answer "Prohioiticl, when lis
eye caught portrait Of gentleman
with a Gre cked hose and a straight
smile. marked ""Mr. Washington"
hanging where George III had once
where's George III, God bless
inn" he asked, and was about to
be tarred for a tory when he asked
II nobody remembered Rip Van Win
kle. They pointed. on. tall, lanky
counterpart of what he once had
been, and Rip knew uto be his ron.
At last he established his iden:ity
and swapped his story for the one
of the revolutionary war then heing
waged They all agreed that led
been hootch bounding with IIcpry
Hudson and his merry Ip,n. who are
said to haunt the KaatskiN noun
tains, and had slep. for twenty years.
A woman with child in her arms
turned out to be his little sirl he'd
left behind, and 20 her he. ": cad
the question that had been troubling
his repose.
"Where's Mrs Van Wrinkle? Who
paid the rent while-
Nobody, pop. She dis1 IL. stroke
of apoplexy brought on by tryirg g to
stab Isndlord"' e..