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-everything was strange. His mind now misgave him; he began to doubt whether both he and the world around him were not bewitched. Surely this was his native village, which he had left but a day before. There stood the Kaatskill Mountains-there ran the silver Hudson at a distancethere was every hill and dale precisely as it had always been. Rip was sorely perplexed-"That flagon last night," thought he," has addled my poor head sadly!

7. It was with some difficulty that he found the way to his own house, which he approached with silent awe, expecting every moment 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, but the cur snarled, showed his teeth, and passed on. This was an unkind cut indeed. 66 My very dog," sighed poor Rip,

"has forgotten me!"

8. He entered the house, which, to tell the truth, Dame Van Winkle had always kept in neat order. It was empty, forlorn, and apparently abandoned. This desolateness overcame all his connubial 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.

Sloth makes all things difficult, but Industry all easy; and he that riseth late must trot all day, and shall scarce overtake his business at night; while Laziness travels so slowly, that Poverty soon overtakes him.-FRANKLIN.

LESSON LXV.

1. měť å môr' phosed; v. changed into a different form.

2. jär' gŎn; n. confused, unintelligible talk.

1. sèěp'ter; n. a staff borne by 3. å kĭm' bo; a. with the hand

1. He now hurried forth, and hastened to his old resort, the village inn-but it too was gone. A large rickety wooden building stood in its place, with great gaping windows, 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 now was reared a tall naked pole, with something on the top that looked like a red nightcap, and from it was fluttering a flag, on which was a 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 a 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 a scepter, the head was decorated with a cocked hat, and underneath was painted in large characters, GENERAL WASHINGTON.

2. There was, as usual, a crowd of folk about the door but none that Rip recollected. The very character of the

people seemed changed. There was a busy, bustling, disputatious tone about it, instead of the accustomed phlegm and drowsy tranquillity. 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 schoolmaster, doling forth the contents of an ancient newspaper. In place of these, a lean, bilious-looking fellow, with his pockets full of handbills, was haranguing vehemently about rights of citizenselection-members of Congress-liberty-Bunker Hill— heroes of seventy-six-and other words that were a perfect Babylonish jargon to the bewildered Van Winkle.

3. The appearance of Rip, with his long, grizzled beard, his rusty fowling-piece, his uncouth dress, and the army of women and children that had gathered at his heels soon attracted the attention of the tavern politicians. They crowded round him, eying him from head to foot with great curiosity. A knowing, self-important old gentleman, in a sharp cocked 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 austere tone what brought him to the election with a gun on his shoulder, and a mob at his heels, and whether he meant to breed a riot in the village.

4. "Alas! gentlemen," cried Rip, somewhat dismayed, “I am a poor, quiet man, a native of the place, and a loyal subject of the King, God bless him!"

Here a general shout burst from the by-standers—“ A tory! a tory! a spy! a refugee! Hustle him! away with him!"

5. It was with great difficulty that the self-important

man in the cocked hat restored order; and having assuined a tenfold austerity of brow, demanded again of the unknown 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 neighbors, who used to keep about the tavern.

6. "Well-who are they ?-name them."

Rip bethought himself a moment, and inquired, "Where's Nicholas Vedder?"

There was a silence for a little while, when an old man replied, in a 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."

"Oh, he went off to the army in the beginning of the war; some say he was killed in the storming of Stony Point-others say he was drowned in the squall at the foot of Anthony's Nose. I don't know-he never came back again."

"Where's Van Bummel, the schoolmaster?"

"He went off to the wars, too; was a great militia general, and is now in Congress."

8. Rip's heart died away at hearing of these sad changes in his home and friends, and finding himself thus alone in the world. Every answer puzzled him, too, by treating of such enormous lapses of time, and of matters which he could not understand-war-Congress-Stony Point!-he had no courage to ask after any more friends, but cried out in despair, "Does nobody here know Rip Van Winkle ? "

"Oh, Rip Van Winkle!" exclaimed two or three. "Oh, to be sure! that's Rip Van Winkle yonder, leaning against the tree."

9. Rip looked, and beheld a precise counterpart of himself as he went up the mountain; apparently as lazy, and certainly as ragged. The poor fellow was now completely confounded. He doubted his own identity, and whether he was himself or another man. In the midst of his bewilderment the man in the cocked hat demanded who he was, and what was his name.

"God knows!" exclaimed he, at his wit's end; "I'm not myself—I'm somebody else—that's me yonder-nothat's somebody else got into my shoes-I was myself last night, but I fell asleep on the mountain, and they've changed my gun, and everything's changed, and I'm changed, and I can't tell what's my name or who I am !

66

Babylonish jargon" (2) is a reference to the confusion of tongues which God sent upon the children of Adam to punish their pride at the building of the tower of Babel.

a bold promontory on the east side of the County, New York.

66

Anthony's Nose" (7), Hudson River, Putnam

LESSON LXVI.

1. sig nif' I cant ly; adv. with | 6. eŏr rŏbo rāt ed; v. estabmeaning.

lished the truth of.

åf fîrmed'; v. declared.

7.

1. pre çip' I tā' tion; n. great | 6.

hurry.

dĭt tō; n. the same thing.

1. come lỹ (kůmʼlỹ); a. hand- 7. he rěd'ĭ ta ry; a. inherit

some.

6. versed; a. acquainted.

able.

8. erō'nies; n. familiar friends.

Rip Van Winkle. Part III.

1. The by-standers began now to look at each other, nod, wink significantly, and tap their fingers against their foreheads. There was a whisper, also, about securing the gun, and keeping the old fellow from doing mischief; at