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ment. Happily that was at an end; he had got his neck out of the yoke of matrimony, and could go in and out whenever he pleased, without dreading the tyranny of Dame Van Winkle.

Whenever her name was mentioned, however, he shook his head, 5 shrugged his shoulders, and cast up his eyes, which might pass

either for an expression of resignation to his fate, or joy at his deliverance.

He used to tell his story to every stranger that arrived at Mr. Doolittle's hotel. He was observed, at first, to vary on some 10 points every time he told it, which was, doubtless, owing to his

having so recently awaked. It at last settled down precisely to the tale I have related, and not a man, woman, or child in the neighborhood but knew it by heart. Some always pretended to

doubt the reality of it, and insisted that Rip had been out of 15 his head, and that this was one point on which he always

remained flighty. The old Dutch inhabitants, however, almost universally gave it full credit. Even to this day they never hear a thunder-storm of a summer afternoon about the Kaatskill, but

they say Hendrick Hudson and his crew are at their game of 20 ninepins; and it is a common wish of all henpecked husbands

in the neighborhood, when life hangs heavy on their hands, that they might have a quieting draught out of Rip Van Winkle's flagon.

HELPS TO STUDY The three stages of the story are: The sleep, the return, the recognition. Through them all personal identity remains.

Notes and Questions Rip Van Winkle—the man: his company, the flagon, the waking characteristics, habits, family.

—the changed scenes. The place: the village, the inn, the The afternoon of the day, the surroundings, the times.

afternoon of the year (autumn), The autumn ramble: the woods, and the afternoon of life (old the dog, the gun, the Hudson,

man) are chosen by the author. the stranger, the “ninepins”

What is the fitness in selecting a

village near the mountains? Why

choose a village at all?
Note the civic progress of the peo-

ple—the change from a royal
dependency to an independent
republic.

Locate on the map the scene of

this selection and tell the period in which it occurred. Point out parts of the story that tell you

when it happened. Select descriptions in this selec

tion that are especially pleasing.

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Words and Phrases for Discussion
"peddler"

"self-important man' "austere'

“vacant stupidity'' 4 Tory

"well-oiled disposition" "cocked hat's

"torrent of household ruby face"

eloquence" gaping windows"

THE VOYAGE

From "The Sketch Book," by

WASHINGTON IRVING

Ships, ships, I will descrie you

Amidst the main,
I will come and try you,
What you are protecting,
And projecting,

What's your end and aim.
One goes abroad for merchandise and trading,
Another stays to keep his country from invading,
A third is coming home with rich and wealthy lading.
Halloo ! my fancie, whither wilt thou go?

OLD POEM.

TO AN American visiting Europe, the long voyage he has to make is an excellent preparative. The temporary absence of worldly scenes and employments produces a state of mind peculiarly fitted to receive new and vivid impressions. The vast space of waters that separates the hemispheres is like a blank page in existence. There is no gradual transition, by which, as in Europe, the features and population of one country blend almost imperceptibly with those of another. From the moment you lose sight of the

5

land you have left, all is vacancy until you step on the opposite shore, and are launched at once into the bustle and novelties of another world.

In traveling by land there is a continuity of scene and a con5 nected succession of persons and incidents, that carry on the

story of life, and lessen the effect of absence and separation. We drag, it is true, "a lengthening chain,” at each remove of our pilgrimage; but the chain is unbroken: we can trace it back link

by link; and we feel that the last still grapples us to home. 10 wide sea voyage severs us at once. It makes us conscious of being

cast loose from the secure anchorage of settled life, and sent adrift upon a doubtful world. It interposes a gulf, not merely imaginary, but real, between us and our homes—a gulf subject

to tempest, and fear, and uncertainty, rendering distance pal15 pable, and return precarious.

Such, at least, was the case with myself. As I saw the last blue line of my native land fade away like a cloud in the horizon, it seemed as if I had closed one volume of the world and its

concerns, and had time for meditation, before I opened another. 20 That land, too, now vanishing from my view, which contained

all most dear to me in life; what vicissitudes might occur in it —what changes might take place in me, before I should visit it again! Who can tell, when he sets forth to wander, whither he

may be driven by the uncertain currents of existence; or when 25 he may return; or whether it may ever be his lot to revisit the scenes of his childhood ?

I said that at sea all is vacancy; I should correct the expression. To one given to day-dreaming, and fond of losing himself

in reveries, a sea voyage is full of subjects for meditation; but 30 then they are the wonders of the deep, and of the air, and

rather tend to abstract the mind from worldly themes. I delighted to loll over the quarter-railing, or climb to the maintop, of a calm day, and muse for hours together on the tran

quil bosom of a summer's sea; to gaze upon the piles of golden 35 clouds just peering above the horizon, fancy them some fairy

realms, and people them with a creation of my own;—to watch the gentle undulating billows, rolling their silver volumes, as if to die away on those happy shores.

There was a delicious sensation of mingled security and awe 5 with which I looked down from my giddy height, on the mon

sters of the deep at their uncouth gambols. Shoals of porpoises tumbling about the bow of the ship, the grampus slowly heaving his huge form above the surface; or the ravenous shark, darting,

like a spectre, through the blue waters. My imagination would 10 conjure up all that I had heard or read of the watery world

beneath me; of the finny herds that roam its fathomless valleys; of the shapeless monsters that lurk among the very foundations of the earth; and of those wild phantasms that swell the tales of

fishermen and sailors. 15 Sometimes a distant sail, gliding along the edge of the ocean,

would be another theme of idle speculation. How interesting this fragment of a world, hastening to rejoin the great mass of existence! What a glorious monument of human invention;

which has in a manner triumphed over wind and wave; has 20 brought the ends of the world into communion; has established

an interchange of blessings, pouring into the sterile regions of the north all the luxuries of the south; has diffused the light of knowledge and the charities of cultivated life, and has thus

bound together those scattered portions of the human race, 25 between which nature seemed to have thrown an insurmountable barrier.

We one day descried some shapeless object drifting at a distance. At sea, everything that breaks the monotony of the sur

rounding expanse attracts attention. It proved to be the mast 30 of a ship that must have been completely wrecked; for there

were the remains of handkerchiefs, by which some of the crew had fastened themselves to this spar, to prevent their being washed off by the waves. There was no trace by which the

name of the ship could be ascertained. The wreck had evidently 35 drifted about for many morths; clusters of shell-fish had fas

tened about it, and long sea-weeds flaunted at its sides. But where, thought I, is the crew? Their struggle has long been over—they have gone down amidst the roar of the tempest

their bones lie whitening among the caverns of the deep. Silence, 5 oblivion, like the waves, have closed over them, and no one can

tell the story of their end. What sighs have been wafted after that ship! what prayers offered up at the deserted fireside of home! How often has the mistress, the wife, the mother, pored

over the daily news, to catch some casual intelligence of this 10 rover of the deep! How has expectation darkened into anxiety

-anxiety into dread--and dread into despair! Alas! not one memento may ever return for love to cherish. All that may ever be known, is, that she sailed from her port, “and was never heard

of more !” 15 The sight of this wreck, as usual, gave rise to many dismal

anecdotes. This was particularly the case in the evening, when the weather, which had hitherto been fair, began to look wild and threatening, and gave indications of one of those sudden

storms which will sometimes break in upon the serenity of a 20 summer voyage. As we sat round the dull light of a lamp in

the cabin, that made the gloom more ghastly, every one had his tale of shipwreck and disaster. I was particularly struck with a short one related by the captain.

“As I was once sailing,” said he, “in a fine stout ship across 25 the banks of Newfoundland, one of those heavy fogs which

prevail in those parts rendered it impossible for us to see far ahead even in the daytime; but at night the weather was so thick that we could not distinguish any object at twice the length of

the ship. I kept lights at the mast-head, and a constant watch 30 forward to look out for fishing smacks, which are accustomed

to lie at anchor on the banks. The wind was blowing a smacking breeze, and we were going at a great rate through the water. Suddenly the watch gave the alarm of 'a sail ahead !-it was

scarcely uttered before we were upon her. She was a small 35 schooner, at anchor, with her broadside towards us. The crew

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