he　said　or　did　was　sure　to　produce　a　torrent　of　household　eloquence。
  Rip　had　but　one　way　of　replying　to　all　lectures　of　the　kind；　and　that；
  by　frequent　use；　had　grown　into　a　habit。　He　shrugged　his　shoulders；
  shook　his　head；　cast　up　his　eyes；　but　said　nothing。　This；　however；
  always　provoked　a　fresh　volley　from　his　wife；　so　that　he　was　fain　to
  draw　off　his　forces；　and　take　to　the　outside　of　the　house…　the　only
  side　which；　in　truth；　belongs　to　a　hen…pecked　husband。
  Rip's　sole　domestic　adherent　was　his　dog　Wolf；　who　was　as　much
  hen…pecked　as　his　master；　for　Dame　Van　Winkle　regarded　them　as
  companions　in　idleness；　and　even　looked　upon　Wolf　with　an　evil　eye；　as
  the　cause　of　his　master's　going　so　often　astray。　True　it　is；　in　all
  points　of　spirit　befitting　an　honorable　dog；　he　was　as　courageous　an
  animal　as　ever　scoured　the　woods…　but　what　courage　can　withstand　the
  ever…during　and　all…besetting　terrors　of　a　woman's　tongue？　The
  moment　Wolf　entered　the　house　his　crest　fell；　his　tail　drooped　to
  the　ground；　or　curled　between　his　legs；　he　sneaked　about　with　a
  gallows　air；　casting　many　a　sidelong　glance　at　Dame　Van　Winkle；　and　at
  the　least　flourish　of　a　broomstick　or　ladle；　he　would　fly　to　the
  door　with　yelping　precipitation。
  Times　grew　worse　and　worse　with　Rip　Van　Winkle　as　years　of　matrimony
  rolled　on；　a　tart　temper　never　mellows　with　age；　and　a　sharp　tongue　is
  the　only　edged　tool　that　grows　keener　with　constant　use。　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。　Here　they　used　to　sit　in　the　shade　through　a
  long　lazy　summer's　day；　talking　listlessly　over　village　gossip；　or
  telling　endless　sleepy　stories　about　nothing。　But　it　would　have　been
  worth　any　statesman's　money　to　have　heard　the　profound　discussions
  that　sometimes　took　place；　when　by　chance　an　old　newspaper　fell　into
  their　hands　from　some　passing　traveller。　How　solemnly　they　would
  listen　to　the　contents；　as　drawled　out　by　Derrick　Van　Bummel；　the
  schoolmaster；　a　dapper　learned　little　man；　who　was　not　to　be　daunted
  by　the　most　gigantic　word　in　the　dictionary；　and　how　sagely　they　would
  deliberate　upon　public　events　some　months　after　they　had　taken　place。
  The　opinions　of　this　junto　were　completely　controlled　by　Nicholas
  Vedder；　a　patriarch　of　the　village；　and　landlord　of　the　inn；　at　the
  door　of　which　he　took　his　seat　from　morning　till　night　just　moving
  sufficiently　to　avoid　the　sun　and　keep　in　the　shade　of　a　large　tree；
  so　that　the　neighbors　could　tell　the　hour　by　his　movements　as
  accurately　as　by　a　sun…dial。　It　is　true　he　was　rarely　heard　to
  speak；　but　smoked　his　pipe　incessantly。　His　adherents；　however　（for
  every　great　man　has　his　adherents）；　perfectly　understood　him；　and　knew
  how　to　gather　his　opinions。　When　any　thing　that　was　read　or　related
  displeased　him；　he　was　observed　to　smoke　his　pipe　vehemently；　and　to
  send　forth　short；　frequent　and　angry　puffs；　but　when　pleased；　he　would
  inhale　the　smoke　slowly　and　tranquilly；　and　emit　it　in　light　and
  placid　clouds；　and　sometimes；　taking　the　pipe　from　his　mouth；　and
  letting　the　fragrant　vapor　curl　about　his　nose；　would　gravely　nod
  his　head　in　token　of　perfect　approbation。
  From　even　this　stronghold　the　unlucky　Rip　was　at　length　routed　by
  his　termagant　wife；　who　would　suddenly　break　in　upon　the
  tranquillity　of　the　assemblage　and　call　the　members　all　to　naught；　nor
  was　that　august　personage；　Nicholas　Vedder　himself；　sacred　from　the
  daring　tongue　of　this　terrible　virago；　who　charged　him　outright　with
  encouraging　her　husband　in　habits　of　idleness。
  Poor　Rip　was　at　last　reduced　almost　to　despair；　and　his　only
  alternative；　to　escape　from　the　labor　of　the　farm　and　clamor　of　his
  wife；　was　to　take　gun　in　hand　and　stroll　away　into　the　woods。　Here
  he　would　sometimes　seat　himself　at　the　foot　of　a　tree；　and　share　the
  contents　of　his　wallet　with　Wolf；　with　whom　he　sympathized　as　a
  fellow…sufferer　in　persecution。　〃Poor　Wolf；〃　he　would　say；　〃thy
  mistress　leads　thee　a　dog's　life　of　it；　but　never　mind；　my　lad；　whilst
  I　live　thou　shalt　never　want　a　friend　to　stand　by　thee！〃　Wolf　would
  wag　his　tail；　look　wistfully　in　his　master's　face；　and　if　dogs　can
  feel　pity　I　verily　believe　he　reciprocated　the　sentiment　with　all
  his　heart。
  In　a　long　ramble　of　the　kind　on　a　fine　autumnal　day；　Rip　had
  unconsciously　scrambled　to　one　of　the　highest　parts　of　the　Kaatskill
  mountains。　He　was　after　his　favorite　sport　of　squirrel　shooting；　and
  the　still　solitudes　had　echoed　and　re…echoed　with　the　reports　of　his
  gun。　Panting　and　fatigued；　he　threw　himself；　late　in　the　afternoon；　on
  a　green　knoll；　covered　with　mountain　herbage；　that　crowned　the　brow　of
  a　precipice。　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。
  On　the　other　side　he　looked　down　into　a　deep　mountain　glen；　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　voice　from　a　distance；
  hallooing；　〃Rip　Van　Winkle！　Rip　Van　Winkle！〃　He　looked　round；　but
  could　see　nothing　but　a　crow　winging　its　solitary　flight　across　the
  mountain。　He　thought　his　fancy　must　have　deceived　him；　and　turned
  again　to　descend；　when　he　heard　the　same　cry　ring　through　the　still
  evening　air；　〃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　of　the
  neighborhood　in　need　of　his　assistance；　he　hastened　down　to　yield　it。
  On　nearer　approach　he　was　still　more　surprised　at　the　singularity　of
  the　stranger's　appearance。　He　was　a　short　square…built　old　fellow；
  with　thick　bushy　hair；　and　a　grizzled　beard。　His　dress　was　of　the
  antique　Dutch　fashion…　a　cloth　jerkin　strapped　round　the　waist…
  several　pair　of　breeches；　the　outer　one　of　ample　volume；　decorated
  with　rows　of　buttons　down　the　sides；　and　bunches　at　the　knees。　He　bore
  on　his　shoulder　a　stout　keg；　that　seemed　full　of　liquor；　and　made
  signs　for　Rip　to　approach　and　assist　him　with　the　load。　Though
  rather　shy　and　distrustful　of　this　new　acquaintance；　Rip　complied　with
  his　usual　alacrity；　and　mutually　relieving　one　another；　they　clambered
  up　a　narrow　gully；　apparently　the　dry　bed　of　a　mountain　torrent。　As
  they　ascended；　Rip　every　now　and　then　heard　long　rolling　peals；　like
  distant　thunder；　that　seemed　to　issue　out　of　a　deep　ravine；　or
  rather　cleft；　between　lofty　rocks；　toward　which　their　rugged　path
  conducted。　He　paused　for　an　instant；　but　supposing　it　to　be　the
  muttering　of　one　of　those　transient　thunder…showers　which　often　take
  place　in　mountain　heights；　he　proceeded。　Passing　through　the　ravine；
  they　came　to　a　hollow；　like　a　small　amphitheatre；　surrounded　by
  perpendicular　precipices；　over　the　brinks　of　which　impending　trees
  shot　their　branches；　so　that　you　only　caught　glimpses　of　the　azure　sky
  and　the　bright　evening　cloud。　During　the　whole　time　Rip　and　his
  companion　had　labored　on　in　silence；　for　though　the　former　marvelled
  greatly　what　could　be　the　object　of　carrying　a　keg　of　liquor　up　this
  wild　mountain；　yet　there　was　something　strange　and　incomprehensible
  about　the　unknown；　that　inspired　awe　and　checked　familiarity。
  On　entering　the　amphitheatre；　new　objects　of　wonder　presented
  themselves。　On　a　level　spot　in　the　centre　was　a　company　of　odd…looking
  personages　playing　at　nine…pins。　They　were　dressed　in　a　quaint
  outlandish　fashion；　some　wore　short　doublets；　others　jerkins；　with
  long　knives　in　their　belts；　and　most　of　them　had　enormous　breeches；　of
  similar　style　with　that　of　the　guide's。　Their　visages；　too；　were
  peculiar：　one　had　a　large　beard；　broad　face；　and　small　piggish　eyes：
  the　face　of　another　seemed　to　consist　entirely　of　nose；　and　was
  surmounted　by　a　white　sugar…loaf　hat；　set　off　with　a　little　red　cock's
  tail。　They　all　had　beards；　of　various　shapes　and　colors。　There　was　one
  who　seemed