a different fashion from that to which he was accustomed. They all stared at him with equal marks of surprise, and, whenever they cast their eyes upon him, invariably stroked their chins. The constant recurrence of this gesture induced Rip involuntarily to do the same, when, to his astonishment, he found his beard had grown a foot long!

6. He had now entered the skirts of the village. A troop of strange children ran at his heels, hooting after him, and pointing 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; it 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-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 the day before. There stood the Kaatskill Mountains; there ran the silver Hudson at a distance; there 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. Rip called him by name, but the cur snarled, showed his teeth, and passed on. This was

an unkind cut indeed. "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. The 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.

9. 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 was now 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."

FOR PREPARATION.-I. The sleep of Rip Van Winkle had lasted from a few years before the war of the Revolution to a period after the formation of the Constitution-say from 1770 to 1790. Collect the expressions in the piece which determine the date.

II. Liq'-uor (lik'ēr), wõe'-be-gone, găm'-bol, rheu'-ma-tişm (ru-), mûr'-mur, scèp'-ter, ra-vine'.

III. Why is the form an used before old acquaintance (6), and a before foot long (5)?

IV. Incrusted, roisters, tendrils, forlorn, abandoned, desolateness, metamorphosed. Paraphrase in your own words: "The constant recurrence of this gesture induced Rip involuntarily to do the same."

V. Point out the passages of the piece which you think most notable for a graceful style.

XCV.—RIP VAN WINKLE'S RECOGNITION.

1. 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, eying him from head to foot with great curiosity. The orator bustled up to him, and, drawing him partly aside, inquired "on which side he voted." Rip stared in vacant stupidity.

2. Another short but busy little fellow pulled him by the arm, and, rising on tiptoe, inquired in his ear 66 whether he was Federal or Democrat." Rip was equally at a loss to comprehend the question; when 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." "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!”

3. Here a general shout burst from the bystanders: "A tory! a tory! a spy! à refugee! Hustle him! away with him!" It was with great difficulty that the selfimportant man in the cocked hat restored order; and, having assumed 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.

4. "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 churchyard that used to tell all about him, but that's rotten and gone, too."

"Where's Brom Dutcher?"

5. "Oh! he went off to the army in the beginning of the war. Some say he was killed at the storming of Stony Point; others say he was drowned in a 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.'

6. 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 anybody here know Rip Van Winkle?"

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

7. 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.

8. "God knows!" exclaimed he, at his wits' end. "I'm not myself—I'm somebody else—that's me yonder— no, that's somebody else got into my shoes. I was myself last night, but I fell asleep on the mountains, 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!"

9. The bystanders 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 the very suggestion of which the self-important man in the cocked hat retired with some precipitation.

10. At this critical moment a fresh, comely woman. pressed through the throng to get a peep at the graybearded man. She had a chubby child in her arms, which, frightened at his looks, began to cry. "Hush, Rip," cried she; "hush, you little fool! the old man