Otras ediciones - Ver todas
admiration American appears beauty better carronades cause character circumstances constitution court Curran delight Edinburgh Review effect enemy England English Europe evil fair favour feeling foreign genius give guns hand heart heaven honour hope house of commons Hudibras human influence interest Ireland Irish Italy Jacobite John Philpot Curran king labour land language less literary living Lord Lord Cornwallis manner manufactures means measure ment merits mind moral Napoleon nature never New-York o'er object observations opinion passion pendulum perhaps person poem poet poetry political present principles produced racter readers Rip Van Winkle seems sentiment ship Sir Philip Sir Philip Sidney Sir Thomas Overbury society speak spirit style sweet talent taste thing thought tion truth United Whig whole writers
Página 175 - ... in the country round. Their dress, too, was of 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!
Página 173 - For a long while he used to console himself, when driven from home, by frequenting a kind of perpetual club of the sages, philosophers, and other idle personages of the village which held its sessions on a bench before a small inn, designated by a rubicund portrait of His Majesty George the Third.
Página 173 - From an opening between the trees he could overlook all the lower country for many a mile of rich woodland. He saw at a distance the lordly Hudson, far, far below him, moving on its silent but majestic course, with the reflection of a purple cloud or the sail of a lagging bark here and there sleeping on its glassy bosom, and at last losing itself in the blue highlands.
Página 174 - Rip Van Winkle ! Rip Van Winkle!" At the same time, Wolf bristled up his back, and giving a low growl, skulked to his master's side, looking fearfully down into the glen. Rip now felt a vague apprehension stealing over him. He looked anxiously in the same direction and perceived a strange figure slowly toiling up the rocks, and bending under the weight of something he carried on his back. He was surprised to see any human being in this lonely and unfrequented place ; but supposing it to be some one...
Página 178 - Ah, poor man, Rip Van Winkle was his name, but it's twenty years since he went away from home with his gun, and never has been heard of since,— his dog came home without him; but whether he shot himself, or was carried away by the Indians, nobody can tell. I was then but a little girl.
Página 178 - ... dreading the tyranny of Dame Van Winkle. Whenever her name was mentioned, however, he shook his head, 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.
Página 173 - ... wild, lonely, and shagged, the bottom filled with fragments from the impending cliffs, and scarcely lighted by the reflected rays of the setting sun. For some time Rip lay musing on this scene; evening was gradually advancing; the mountains began to throw their long blue shadows over the valleys; he saw that it would be dark long before he could reach the village, and he heaved a heavy sigh when he thought of encountering the terrors of Dame Van Winkle. As he was about to descend, he heard a...
Página 177 - The name of the child, the air of the mother, the tone of her voice, all awakened a train of recollections in his mind. "What is your name, my good woman?
Página 175 - ... countenances, that his heart turned within him, and his knees smote together. His companion now emptied the contents of the keg into large flagons, and made signs to him to wait upon the company. He obeyed with fear and trembling; they quaffed the liquor in profound silence, and then returned to their game.
Página 172 - ... swelling up to a noble height, and lording it over the surrounding country. Every change of season, every change of weather, indeed every hour of the day, produces some change in the magical hues and shapes of these mountains, and they are regarded by all the good wives, far and near, as perfect barometers.