Hischildren，too，wereasraggedandwildasiftheybelongedto
nobody。HissonRip，anurchinbegotteninhisownlikeness，
promisedtoinheritthehabits，withtheoldclothesofhisfather。He
wasgenerallyseentroopinglikeacoltathismother’sheels，
equippedinapairofhisfather’scast—offgalligaskins，whichhehad
muchadotoholdupwithonehand，asafineladydoeshertrainin
badweather。
RipVanWinkle，however，wasoneofthosehappymortals，offoolish，
well—oileddispositions，whotaketheworldeasy，eatwhitebreador
brown，whichevercanbegotwithleastthoughtortrouble，andwould
ratherstarveonapennythanworkforapound。Iflefttohimself，he
wouldhavewhistledlifeawayinperfectcontentment；buthiswife
keptcontinuallydinninginhisearsabouthisidleness，his
carelessness，andtheruinhewasbringingonhisfamily。Morning，
noon，andnight，hertonguewasincessantlygoing，andeverything
hesaidordidwassuretoproduceatorrentofhouseholdeloquence。
Riphadbutonewayofreplyingtoalllecturesofthekind，andthat，
byfrequentuse，hadgrownintoahabit。Heshruggedhisshoulders，
shookhishead，castuphiseyes，butsaidnothing。This，however，
alwaysprovokedafreshvolleyfromhiswife；sothathewasfainto
drawoffhisforces，andtaketotheoutsideofthehouse—theonly
sidewhich，intruth，belongstoahen—peckedhusband。
Rip’ssoledomesticadherentwashisdogWolf，whowasasmuch
hen—peckedashismaster；forDameVanWinkleregardedthemas
companionsinidleness，andevenlookeduponWolfwithanevileye，as
thecauseofhismaster’sgoingsooftenastray。Trueitis，inall
pointsofspiritbefittinganhonorabledog，hewasascourageousan
animalaseverscouredthewoods—butwhatcouragecanwithstandthe
ever—duringandall—besettingterrorsofawoman’stongue？The
momentWolfenteredthehousehiscrestfell，histaildroopedto
theground，orcurledbetweenhislegs，hesneakedaboutwitha
gallowsair，castingmanyasidelongglanceatDameVanWinkle，andat
theleastflourishofabroomstickorladle，hewouldflytothe
doorwithyelpingprecipitation。
TimesgrewworseandworsewithRipVanWinkleasyearsofmatrimony
rolledon；atarttempernevermellowswithage，andasharptongueis
theonlyedgedtoolthatgrowskeenerwithconstantuse。Foralong
whileheusedtoconsolehimself，whendrivenfromhome，by
frequentingakindofperpetualclubofthesages，philosophers，and
otheridlepersonagesofthevillage；whichhelditssessionsona
benchbeforeasmallinn，designatedbyarubicundportraitofHis
MajestyGeorgetheThird。Heretheyusedtositintheshadethrougha
longlazysummer’sday，talkinglistlesslyovervillagegossip，or
tellingendlesssleepystoriesaboutnothing。Butitwouldhavebeen
worthanystatesman’smoneytohaveheardtheprofounddiscussions
thatsometimestookplace，whenbychanceanoldnewspaperfellinto
theirhandsfromsomepassingtraveller。Howsolemnlytheywould
listentothecontents，asdrawledoutbyDerrickVanBummel，the
schoolmaster，adapperlearnedlittleman，whowasnottobedaunted
bythemostgiganticwordinthedictionary；andhowsagelytheywould
deliberateuponpubliceventssomemonthsaftertheyhadtakenplace。
TheopinionsofthisjuntowerecompletelycontrolledbyNicholas
Vedder，apatriarchofthevillage，andlandlordoftheinn，atthe
doorofwhichhetookhisseatfrommorningtillnightjustmoving
sufficientlytoavoidthesunandkeepintheshadeofalargetree；
sothattheneighborscouldtellthehourbyhismovementsas
accuratelyasbyasun—dial。Itistruehewasrarelyheardto
speak，butsmokedhispipeincessantly。Hisadherents，however（for
everygreatmanhashisadherents），perfectlyunderstoodhim，andknew
howtogatherhisopinions。Whenanythingthatwasreadorrelated
displeasedhim，hewasobservedtosmokehispipevehemently，andto
sendforthshort，frequentandangrypuffs；butwhenpleased，hewould
inhalethesmokeslowlyandtranquilly，andemititinlightand
placidclouds；andsometimes，takingthepipefromhismouth，and
lettingthefragrantvaporcurlabouthisnose，wouldgravelynod
hisheadintokenofperfectapprobation。
FromeventhisstrongholdtheunluckyRipwasatlengthroutedby
histermagantwife，whowouldsuddenlybreakinuponthe
tranquillityoftheassemblageandcallthemembersalltonaught；nor
wasthataugustpersonage，NicholasVedderhimself，sacredfromthe
daringtongueofthisterriblevirago，whochargedhimoutrightwith
encouragingherhusbandinhabitsofidleness。
PoorRipwasatlastreducedalmosttodespair；andhisonly
alternative，toescapefromthelaborofthefarmandclamorofhis
wife，wastotakeguninhandandstrollawayintothewoods。Here
hewouldsometimesseathimselfatthefootofatree，andsharethe
contentsofhiswalletwithWolf，withwhomhesympathizedasa
fellow—suffererinpersecution。\"PoorWolf，\"hewouldsay，\"thy
mistressleadstheeadog’slifeofit；butnevermind，mylad，whilst
Ilivethoushaltneverwantafriendtostandbythee！\"Wolfwould
waghistail，lookwistfullyinhismaster’sface，andifdogscan
feelpityIverilybelievehereciprocatedthesentimentwithall
hisheart。
Inalongrambleofthekindonafineautumnalday，Riphad
unconsciouslyscrambledtooneofthehighestpartsoftheKaatskill
mountains。Hewasafterhisfavoritesportofsquirrelshooting，and
thestillsolitudeshadechoedandre—echoedwiththereportsofhis
gun。Pantingandfatigued，hethrewhimself，lateintheafternoon，on
agreenknoll，coveredwithmountainherbage，thatcrownedthebrowof
aprecipice。Fromanopeningbetweenthetreeshecouldoverlookall
thelowercountryformanyamileofrichwoodland。Hesawata
distancethelordlyHudson，far，farbelowhim，movingonitssilent
butmajesticcourse，withthereflectionofapurplecloud，orthe
sailofalaggingbark，hereandtheresleepingonitsglassybosom，
andatlastlosingitselfinthebluehighlands。
Ontheothersidehelookeddownintoadeepmountainglen，wild，
lonely，andshagged，thebottomfilledwithfragmentsfromthe
impendingcliffs，andscarcelylightedbythereflectedraysofthe
settingsun。ForsometimeRiplaymusingonthisscene；eveningwas
graduallyadvancing；themountainsbegantothrowtheirlongblue
shadowsoverthevalleys；hesawthatitwouldbedarklongbefore
hecouldreachthevillage，andheheavedaheavysighwhenhethought
ofencounteringtheterrorsofDameVanWinkle。
Ashewasabouttodescend，heheardavoicefromadistance，
hallooing，\"RipVanWinkle！RipVanWinkle！\"Helookedround，but
couldseenothingbutacrowwingingitssolitaryflightacrossthe
mountain。Hethoughthisfancymusthavedeceivedhim，andturned
againtodescend，whenheheardthesamecryringthroughthestill
eveningair；\"RipVanWinkle！RipVanWinkle！\"—atthesametime
Wolfbristleduphisback，andgivingalowgrowl，skulkedtohis
master’sside，lookingfearfullydownintotheglen。Ripnowfelta
vagueapprehensionstealingoverhim；helookedanxiouslyinthe
samedirection，andperceivedastrangefigureslowlytoilingupthe
rocks，andbendingundertheweightofsomethinghecarriedonhis
back。Hewassurprisedtoseeanyhumanbeinginthislonelyand
unfrequentedplace，butsupposingittobesomeoneofthe
neighborhoodinneedofhisassistance，hehasteneddowntoyieldit。
Onnearerapproachhewasstillmoresurprisedatthesingularityof
thestranger’sappearance。Hewasashortsquare—builtoldfellow，
withthickbushyhair，andagrizzledbeard。Hisdresswasofthe
antiqueDutchfashion—aclothjerkinstrappedroundthewaist—
severalpairofbreeches，theouteroneofamplevolume，decorated
withrowsofbuttonsdownthesides，andbunchesattheknees。Hebore
onhisshoulderastoutkeg，thatseemedfullofliquor，andmade
signsforRiptoapproachandassisthimwiththeload。Though
rathershyanddistrustfulofthisnewacquaintance，Ripcompliedwith
hisusualalacrity；andmutuallyrelievingoneanother，theyclambered
upanarrowgully，apparentlythedrybedofamountaintorrent。As
theyascended，Ripeverynowandthenheardlongrollingpeals，like
distantthunder，thatseemedtoissueoutofadeepravine，or
rathercleft，betweenloftyrocks，towardwhichtheirruggedpath
conducted。Hepausedforaninstant，butsupposingittobethe
mutteringofoneofthosetransientthunder—showerswhichoftentake
placeinmountainheights，heproceeded。Passingthroughtheravine，
theycametoahollow，likeasmallamphitheatre，surroundedby
perpendicularprecipices，overthebrinksofwhichimpendingtrees
shottheirbranches，sothatyouonlycaughtglimpsesoftheazuresky
andthebrighteveningcloud。DuringthewholetimeRipandhis
companionhadlaboredoninsilence；forthoughtheformermarvelled
greatlywhatcouldbetheobjectofcarryingakegofliquorupthis
wildmountain，yettherewassomethingstrangeandincomprehensible
abouttheunknown，thatinspiredaweandcheckedfamiliarity。
Onenteringtheamphitheatre，newobjectsofwonderpresented
themselves。Onalevelspotinthecentrewasacompanyofodd—looking
personagesplayingatnine—pins。Theyweredressedinaquaint
outlandishfashion；someworeshortdoublets，othersjerkins，with
longknivesintheirbelts，andmostofthemhadenormousbreeches，of
similarstylewiththatoftheguide’s。Theirvisages，too，were
peculiar：onehadalargebeard，broadface，andsmallpiggisheyes：
thefaceofanotherseemedtoconsistentirelyofnose，andwas
surmountedbyawhitesugar—loafhat，setoffwithalittleredcock’s
tail。Theyallhadbeards，ofvariousshapesandcolors。Therewasone
whoseemedtobethecommander。Hewasastoutoldgentleman，witha
weather—beatencountenance；heworealaceddoublet，broadbeltand
hanger，highcrownedhatandfeather，redstockings，andhigh—heeled
shoes，withrosesinthem。ThewholegroupremindedRipofthefigures
inanoldFlemishpainting，intheparlorofDominieVanShaick，the
villageparson，andwhichhadbeenbroughtoverfromHollandatthe
timeofthesettlement。
WhatseemedparticularlyoddtoRipwas，thatthoughthesefolks
wereevidentlyamusingthemselves，yettheymaintainedthegravest
faces，themostmysterioussilence，andwere，withal，themost
melancholypartyofpleasurehehadeverwitnessed。Nothing
interruptedthestillnessofthescenebutthenoiseoftheballs，
which，whenevertheywererolled，echoedalongthemountainslike
rumblingpealsofthunder。
AsRipandhiscompanionapproachedthem，theysuddenlydesisted
fromtheirplay，andstaredathimwithsuchfixedstatue—likegaze，
andsuchstrange，uncouth，lack—lustrecountenances，thathisheart
turnedwithinhim，andhiskneessmotetogether。Hiscompanionnow
emptiedthecontentsofthekegintolargeflagons，andmadesigns
tohimtowaituponthecompany。Heobeyedwithfearandtrembling；
theyquaffedtheliquorinprofoundsilence，andthenreturnedto
theirgame。
BydegreesRip’saweandapprehensionsubsided。Heevenventured，
whennoeyewasfixeduponhim，totastethebeverage，whichhe
foundhadmuchoftheflavorofexcellentHollands。Hewasnaturallya
thirstysoul，andwassoontemptedtorepeatthedraught。Onetaste
provokedanother；andhereiteratedhisvisitstotheflagonso
oftenthatatlengthhissenseswereoverpowered，hiseyesswaminhis
head，hisheadgraduallydeclined，andhefellintoadeepsleep。
Onwaking，hefoundhimselfonthegreenknollwhencehehadfirst
seentheoldmanoftheglen。Herubbedhiseyes—itwasabright
sunnymorning。Thebirdswerehoppingandtwitteringamongthebushes，
andtheeaglewaswheelingaloft，andbreastingthepuremountain
breeze。\"Surely，\"thoughtRip，\"Ihavenotslepthereallnight。\"He
recalledtheoccurrencesbeforehefellasleep。Thestrangemanwitha
kegofliquor—themountainravine—thewildretreatamongthe
rocks—thewobegonepartyatnine—pins—theflagon—\"Oh！that
flagon！thatwickedflagon！\"thoughtRip—\"whatexcuseshallImaketo
DameVanWinkle！\"
Helookedroundforhisgun，butinplaceofthecleanwell—oiled
fowling—piece，hefoundanoldfirelocklyingbyhim，thebarrel
incrustedwithrust，thelockfallingoff，andthestockworm—eaten。
Henowsuspectedthatthegraveroysterersofthemountainhadputa
trickuponhim，and，havingdosedhimwithliquor，hadrobbedhimof
hisgun。Wolf，too，haddisappeared，buthemighthavestrayedaway
afterasquirrelorpartridge。Hewhistledafterhimandshoutedhis
name，butallinvain；theechoesrepeatedhiswhistleandshout，
butnodogwastobeseen。
Hedeterminedtorevisitthesceneofthelastevening’sgambol，and
ifhemetwithanyoftheparty，todemandhisdogandgun。Asherose
towalk，hefoundhimselfstiffinthejoints，andwantinginhis
usualactivity。\"Thesemountainbedsdonotagreewithme，\"thought
Rip，\"andifthisfrolicshouldlaymeupwithafitofthe
rheumatism，IshallhaveablessedtimewithDameVanWinkle。\"With
somedifficultyhegotdownintotheglen：hefoundthegullyupwhich
heandhiscompanionhadascendedtheprecedingevening；buttohis
astonishmentamountainstreamwasnowfoamingdownit，leapingfrom
rocktorock，andfillingtheglenwithbabblingmurmurs。He，however，
madeshifttoscrambleupitssides，workinghistoilsomeway
throughthicketsofbirch，sassafras，andwitch—hazel，andsometimes
trippeduporentangledbythewildgrapevinesthattwistedtheir
coilsortendrilsfromtreetotree，andspreadakindofnetworkin
hispath。
Atlengthhereachedtowheretheravinehadopenedthroughthe
cliffstotheamphitheatre；butnotracesofsuchopeningremained。
Therockspresentedahighimpenetrablewalloverwhichthetorrent
cametumblinginasheetoffeatheryfoam，andfellintoabroad
deepbasin，blackfromtheshadowsofthesurroundingforest。Here，
then，poorRipwasbroughttoastand。Heagaincalledandwhistled
afterhisdog；hewasonlyansweredbythecawingofaflockofidle
crows，sportinghighinairaboutadrytreethatoverhungasunny
precipice；andwho，secureintheirelevation，seemedtolookdownand
scoffatthepoorman’sperplexities。Whatwastobedone？themorning
waspassingaway，andRipfeltfamishedforwantofhisbreakfast。
Hegrievedtogiveuphisdogandgun；hedreadedtomeethiswife；
butitwouldnotdotostarveamongthemountains。Heshookhis
head，shoulderedtherustyfirelock，and，withaheartfulloftrouble
andanxiety，turnedhisstepshomeward。
Asheapproachedthevillagehemetanumberofpeople，butnone
whomheknew，whichsomewhatsurprisedhim，forhehadthoughthimself
acquaintedwitheveryoneinthecountryround。Theirdress，too，
wasofadifferentfashionfromthattowhichhewasaccustomed。
Theyallstaredathimwithequalmarksofsurprise，andwheneverthey
casttheireyesuponhim，invariablystrokedtheirchins。Theconstant
recurrenceofthisgestureinducedRip，involuntarily，todothesame，
when，tohisastonishment，hefoundhisbeardhadgrownafootlong！
Hehadnowenteredtheskirtsofthevillage。Atroopofstrange
childrenranathisheels，hootingafterhim，andpointingathisgray
beard。Thedogs，too，notoneofwhichherecognizedforanold
acquaintance，barkedathimashepassed。Theveryvillagewas
altered；itwaslargerandmorepopulous。Therewererowsofhouses
whichhehadneverseenbefore，andthosewhichhadbeenhis
familiarhauntshaddisappeared。Strangenameswereoverthedoors—
strangefacesatthewindows—everythingwasstrange。Hismindnow
misgavehim；hebegantodoubtwhetherbothheandtheworldaround
himwerenotbewitched。Surelythiswashisnativevillage，whichhe
hadleftbutthedaybefore。TherestoodtheKaatskillmountains—
thereranthesilverHudsonatadistance—therewaseveryhilland
dalepreciselyasithadalwaysbeen—Ripwassorelyperplexed—
\"Thatflagonlastnight，\"thoughthe，\"hasaddledmypoorheadsadly！\"
Itwaswithsomedifficultythathefoundthewaytohisown
house，whichheapproachedwithsilentawe，expectingeverymoment
toheartheshrillvoiceofDameVanWinkle。Hefoundthehousegone
todecay—therooffallenin，thewindowsshattered，andthedoorsoff
thehinges。Ahalf—starveddogthatlookedlikeWolfwasskulking
aboutit。Ripcalledhimbyname，butthecursnarled，showedhis
teeth，andpassedon。Thiswasanunkindcutindeed—\"Myverydog，\"
sighedpoorRip，\"hasforgottenme！\"
Heenteredthehouse，which，totellthetruth，DameVanWinkle
hadalwayskeptinneatorder。Itwasempty，forlorn，andapparently
abandoned。Thisdesolatenessovercameallhisconnubialfears—he
calledloudlyforhiswifeandchildren—thelonelychambersrang
foramomentwithhisvoice，andthenallagainwassilence。
Henowhurriedforth，andhastenedtohisoldresort，thevillage
inn—butittoowasgone。Alargericketywoodenbuildingstoodinits
place，withgreatgapingwindows，someofthembrokenandmended
witholdhatsandpetticoats，andoverthedoorwaspainted，\"The
UnionHotel，byJonathanDoolittle。\"Insteadofthegreattreethat
usedtoshelterthequietlittleDutchinnofyore，therenowwas
rearedatallnakedpole，withsomethingonthetopthatlookedlikea
rednight—cap，andfromitwasflutteringaflag，onwhichwasa
singularassemblageofstarsandstripes—allthiswasstrangeand
incomprehensible。Herecognizedonthesign，however，therubyfaceof
KingGeorge，underwhichhehadsmokedsomanyapeacefulpipe；but
eventhiswassingularlymetamorphosed。Theredcoatwaschangedfor
oneofblueandbuff，aswordwasheldinthehandinsteadofa
sceptre，theheadwasdecoratedwithacockedhat，andunderneath
waspaintedinlargecharacters，GENERALWASHINGTON。
Therewas，asusual，acrowdoffolkaboutthedoor，butnonethat
Riprecollected。Theverycharacterofthepeopleseemedchanged。
Therewasabusy，bustling，disputatioustoneaboutit，insteadofthe
accustomedphlegmanddrowsytranquillity。Helookedinvainforthe
sageNicholasVedder，withhisbroadface，doublechin，andfair
longpipe，utteringcloudsoftobacco—smokeinsteadofidle
speeches；orVanBummel，theschoolmaster，dolingforththecontents
ofanancientnewspaper。Inplaceofthese，alean，bilious—looking
fellow，withhispocketsfullofhandbills，washaranguing
vehementlyaboutrightsofcitizens—elections—membersofcongress—
liberty—Bunker’sHill—heroesofseventy—six—andotherwords，
whichwereaperfectBabylonishjargontothebewilderedVanWinkle。
TheappearanceofRip，withhislonggrizzledbeard，hisrusty
fowling—piece，hisuncouthdress，andanarmyofwomenandchildrenat
hisheels，soonattractedtheattentionofthetavernpoliticians。
Theycrowdedroundhim，eyeinghimfromheadtofootwithgreat
curiosity。Theoratorbustleduptohim，and，drawinghimpartly
aside，inquired\"onwhichsidehevoted？\"Ripstaredinvacant
stupidity。Anothershortbutbusylittlefellowpulledhimbythearm，
and，risingontiptoe，inquiredinhisear，\"WhetherhewasFederalor
Democrat？\"Ripwasequallyatalosstocomprehendthequestion；
whenaknowing，self—importantoldgentleman，inasharpcockedhat，
madehiswaythroughthecrowd，puttingthemtotherightandleft
withhiselbowsashepassed，andplantinghimselfbeforeVan
Winkle，withonearmakimbo，theotherrestingonhiscane，hiskeen
eyesandsharphatpenetrating，asitwere，intohisverysoul，
demandedinanausteretone，\"whatbroughthimtotheelectionwith
agunonhisshoulder，andamobathisheels，andwhetherhemeantto
breedariotinthevillage？\"—\"Alas！gentlemen，\"criedRip，
somewhatdismayed，\"Iamapoorquietman，anativeoftheplace，
andaloyalsubjectoftheking，Godblesshim！\"
Hereageneralshoutburstfromthebystanders—\"Atory！atory！a
spy！arefugee！hustlehim！awaywithhim！\"Itwaswithgreat
difficultythattheself—importantmaninthecockedhatrestored
order；and，havingassumedaten—foldausterityofbrow，demanded
againoftheunknownculprit，whathecametherefor，andwhomhe
wasseeking？Thepoormanhumblyassuredhimthathemeantnoharm，
butmerelycamethereinsearchofsomeofhisneighbors，whoused
tokeepaboutthetavern。
\"Well—whoarethey？—namethem。\"
Ripbethoughthimselfamoment，andinquired，\"Where’sNicholas
Vedder？\"
Therewasasilenceforalittlewhile，whenanoldmanreplied，
inathinpipingvoice，\"NicholasVedder！why，heisdeadandgone
theseeighteenyears！Therewasawoodentombstoneinthe
church—yardthatusedtotellallabouthim，butthat’srottenand
gonetoo。\"
\"Where’sBromDutcher？\"
\"Oh，hewentofftothearmyinthebeginningofthewar；somesay
hewaskilledatthestormingofStonyPoint—otherssayhewas
drownedinasquallatthefootofAntony’sNose。Idon’tknow—he
nevercamebackagain。\"
\"Where’sVanBummel，theschoolmaster？\"
\"Hewentofftothewarstoo，wasagreatmilitiageneral，andis
nowincongress。\"
Rip’sheartdiedawayathearingofthesesadchangesinhishome
andfriends，andfindinghimselfthusaloneintheworld。Everyanswer
puzzledhimtoo，bytreatingofsuchenormouslapsesoftime，andof
matterswhichhecouldnotunderstand：war—congress—StonyPoint；—he
hadnocouragetoaskafteranymorefriends，butcriedoutin
despair，\"DoesnobodyhereknowRipVanWinkle？\"
\"Oh，RipVanWinkle！\"exclaimedtwoorthree，\"Oh，tobesure！
that’sRipVanWinkleyonder，leaningagainstthetree。\"
Riplooked，andbeheldaprecisecounterpartofhimself，ashe
wentupthemountain：apparentlyaslazy，andcertainlyasragged。The
poorfellowwasnowcompletelyconfounded。Hedoubtedhisown
identity，andwhetherhewashimselforanotherman。Inthemidstof
hisbewilderment，themaninthecockedhatdemandedwhohewas，and
whatwashisname？
\"Godknows，\"exclaimedhe，athiswit’send；\"I’mnotmyself—I’m
somebodyelse—that’smeyonder—no—that’ssomebodyelsegotinto
myshoes—Iwasmyselflastnight，butIfellasleeponthe
mountain，andthey’vechangedmygun，andeverything’schanged，and
I’mchanged，andIcan’ttellwhat’smyname，orwhoIam！\"
Thebystandersbegannowtolookateachother，nod，wink
significantly，andtaptheirfingersagainsttheirforeheads。There
wasawhisper，also，aboutsecuringthegun，andkeepingtheold
fellowfromdoingmischief，attheverysuggestionofwhichthe
self—importantmaninthecockedhatretiredwithsome
precipitation。Atthiscriticalmomentafreshcomelywomanpressed
throughthethrongtogetapeepatthegray—beardedman。Shehada
chubbychildinherarms，which，frightenedathislooks，beganto
cry。\"Hush，Rip，\"criedshe，\"hush，youlittlefool；theoldmanwon’t
hurtyou。\"Thenameofthechild，theairofthemother，thetoneof
hervoice，allawakenedatrainofrecollectionsinhismind。\"Whatis
yourname，mygoodwoman？\"askedhe。
\"JudithGardenier。\"
\"Andyourfather’sname？\"
\"Ah，poorman，RipVanWinklewashisname，butit’stwentyyears
sincehewentawayfromhomewithhisgun，andneverhasbeenheardof
since—hisdogcamehomewithouthim；butwhetherheshothimself，
orwascarriedawaybytheIndians，nobodycantell。Iwasthenbut
alittlegirl。\"
Riphadbutonequestionmoretoask；butheputitwithafaltering
voice：
\"Where’syourmother？\"