rip van winkle-第1章
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THE SKETCH BOOK
RIP VAN WINKLE
A POSTHUMOUS WRITING OF DIEDRICH KNICKERBOCKER
by Washington Irving
By Woden； God of Saxons；
From whence comes Wensday； that is Wodensday。
Truth is a thing that ever I will keep
Unto thylke day in which I creep into
My sepulchre…
CARTWRIGHT。
＇The following Tale was found among the papers of the late
Diedrich Knickerbocker； an old gentleman of New York； who was very
curious in the Dutch history of the province； and the manners of the
descendants from its primitive settlers。 His historical researches；
however； did not lie so much among books as among men； for the
former are lamentably scanty on his favorite topics； whereas he
found the old burghers； and still more their wives； rich in that
legendary lore； so invaluable to true history。 Whenever； therefore； he
happened upon a genuine Dutch family； snugly shut up in its low…roofed
farmhouse； under a spreading sycamore； he looked upon it as a little
clasped volume of black…letter； and studied it with the zeal of a
book…worm。
The result of all these researches was a history of the province
during the reign of the Dutch governors； which he published some years
since。 There have been various opinions as to the literary character
of his work； and； to tell the truth； it is not a whit better than it
should be。 Its chief merit is its scrupulous accuracy； which indeed
was a little questioned on its first appearance； but has since been
completely established； and it is now admitted into all historical
collections； as a book of unquestionable authority。
The old gentleman died shortly after the publication of his work；
and now that he is dead and gone； it cannot do much harm to his memory
to say that his time might have been much better employed in weightier
labors。 He； however； was apt to ride his hobby his own way； and though
it did now and then kick up the dust a little in the eyes of his
neighbors； and grieve the spirit of some friends； for whom he felt the
truest deference and affection； yet his errors and follies are
remembered 〃more in sorrow than in anger；〃 and it begins to be
suspected； that he never intended to injure or offend。 But however his
memory may be appreciated by critics； it is still held dear by many
folk； whose good opinion is well worth having； particularly by certain
biscuit…bakers； who have gone so far as to imprint his likeness on
their new…year cakes； and have thus given him a chance for
immortality； almost equal to the being stamped on a Waterloo Medal； or
a Queen Anne's Farthing。＇
WHOEVER has made a voyage up the Hudson must remember the
Kaatskill mountains。 They are a dismembered branch of the great
Appalachian family； and are seen away to the west of the river；
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。 When the weather is fair
and settled； they are clothed in blue and purple； and print their bold
outlines on the clear evening sky； but； sometimes； when the rest of
the landscape is cloudless； they will gather a hood of gray vapors
about their summits； which； in the last rays of the setting sun；
will glow and light up like a crown of glory。
At the foot of these fair mountains； the voyager may have descried
the light smoke curling up from a village； whose shingle…roofs gleam
among the trees； just where the blue tints of the upland melt away
into the fresh green of the nearer landscape。 It is a little
village； of great antiquity； having been founded by some of the
Dutch colonists； in the early times of the province； just about the
beginning of the government of the good Peter Stuyvesant； （may he rest
in peace！） and there were some of the houses of the original
settlers standing within a few years； built of small yellow bricks
brought from Holland； having latticed windows and gable fronts；
surmounted with weather…cocks。
In that same village； and in one of these very houses （which； to
tell the precise truth； was sadly time…worn and weather…beaten）； there
lived many years since； while the country was yet a province of
Great Britain； a simple good…natured fellow； of the name of Rip Van
Winkle。 He was a descendant of the Van Winkles who figured so
gallantly in the chivalrous days of Peter Stuyvesant； and
accompanied him to the siege of Fort Christina。 He inherited； however；
but little of the martial character of his ancestors。 I have
observed that he was a simple good…natured man； he was； moreover； a
kind neighbor； and an obedient hen…pecked husband。 Indeed； to the
latter circumstance might be owing that meekness of spirit which
gained him such universal popularity； for those men are most apt to be
obsequious and conciliating abroad； who are under the discipline of
shrews at home。 Their tempers； doubtless； are rendered pliant and
malleable in the fiery furnace of domestic tribulation； and a
curtain lecture is worth all the sermons in the world for teaching the
virtues of patience and long…suffering。 A termagant wife may；
therefore； in some respects； be considered a tolerable blessing； and
if so； Rip Van Winkle was thrice blessed。
Certain it is； that he was a great favorite among all the good wives
of the village； who； as usual； with the amiable sex； took his part
in all family squabbles； and never failed； whenever they talked
those matters over in their evening gossipings； to lay all the blame
on Dame Van Winkle。 The children of the village； too； would shout with
joy whenever he approached。 He assisted at their sports； made their
playthings； taught them to fly kites and shoot marbles； and told
them long stories of ghosts； witches； and Indians。 Whenever he went
dodging about the village； he was surrounded by a troop of them；
hanging on his skirts； clambering on his back； and playing a
thousand tricks on him with impunity； and not a dog would bark at
him throughout the neighborhood。
The great error in Rip's composition was an insuperable aversion
to all kinds of profitable labor。 It could not be from the want of
assiduity or perseverance； for he would sit on a wet rock； with a
rod as long and heavy as a Tartar's lance； and fish all day without
a murmur； even though he should not be encouraged by a single
nibble。 He would carry a fowling…piece on his shoulder for hours
together； trudging through woods and swamps； and up hill and down
dale； to shoot a few squirrels or wild pigeons。 He would never
refuse to assist a neighbor even in the roughest toil； and was a
foremost man at all country frolics for husking Indian corn； or
building stone…fences； the women of the village； too； used to employ
him to run their errands； and to do such little odd jobs as their less
obliging husbands would not do for them。 In a word Rip was ready to
attend to anybody's business but his own； but as to doing family duty；
and keeping his farm in order； he found it impossible。
In fact； he declared it was of no use to work on his farm； it was
the most pestilent little piece of ground in the whole country；
every thing about it went wrong； and would go wrong； in spite of
him。 His fences were continually falling to pieces； his cow would
either go astray； or get among the cabbages； weeds were sure to grow
quicker in his fields than anywhere else； the rain always made a point
of setting in just as he had some out…door work to do； so that
though his patrimonial estate had dwindled away under his
management； acre by acre； until there was little more left than a mere
patch of Indian corn and potatoes； yet it was the worst conditioned
farm in the neighborhood。
His children； too； were as ragged and wild as if they belonged to
nobody。 His son Rip； an urchin begotten in his own likeness；
promised to inherit the habits； with the old clothes of his father。 He
was generally seen trooping like a colt at his mother's heels；
equipped in a pair of his father's cast…off galligaskins； which he had
much ado to hold up with one hand； as a fine lady does her train in
bad weather。
Rip Van Winkle； however； was one of those happy mortals； of foolish；
well…oiled dispositions； who take the world easy； eat white bread or
brown； whichever can be got with least thought or trouble； and would
rather starve on a penny than work for a pound。 If left to himself； he
would have whistled life away in perfect contentment； but his wife
kept continually dinning in his ears about his idleness； his
carelessness； and the ruin he was bringing on his family。 Morning；
noon； and night； her tongue was incessantly going； and every thing
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 t
