The Legend of Sleepy Hollow

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, by
Washington Irving

The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, by
Washington Irving Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be
sure to check the copyright laws for your country before downloading
or redistributing this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.
This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project
Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the
header without written permission.
Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the
eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is
important information about your specific rights and restrictions in how
the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a
donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.
**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since
1971**
*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of
Volunteers!*****
Title: The Legend of Sleepy Hollow
Author: Washington Irving
Release Date: October, 1992 [EBook #41] [Yes, we are more than one

year ahead of schedule] [Most recently updated April 15, 2003]
Edition: 11
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE
LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW ***

This eBook was originally created by Ilana M. (Kingsley) Newby and
Greg Newby. Additional editing by Jose Menendez.

THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW
by Washington Irving

FOUND AMONG THE PAPERS OF THE LATE DIEDRICH
KNICKERBOCKER.
A pleasing land of drowsy head it was, Of dreams that wave before the
half-shut eye; And of gay castles in the clouds that pass, Forever
flushing round a summer sky. CASTLE OF INDOLENCE.
In the bosom of one of those spacious coves which indent the eastern
shore of the Hudson, at that broad expansion of the river denominated
by the ancient Dutch navigators the Tappan Zee, and where they
always prudently shortened sail and implored the protection of St.
Nicholas when they crossed, there lies a small market town or rural port,
which by some is called Greensburgh, but which is more generally and
properly known by the name of Tarry Town. This name was given, we
are told, in former days, by the good housewives of the adjacent
country, from the inveterate propensity of their husbands to linger

about the village tavern on market days. Be that as it may, I do not
vouch for the fact, but merely advert to it, for the sake of being precise
and authentic. Not far from this village, perhaps about two miles, there
is a little valley or rather lap of land among high hills, which is one of
the quietest places in the whole world. A small brook glides through it,
with just murmur enough to lull one to repose; and the occasional
whistle of a quail or tapping of a woodpecker is almost the only sound
that ever breaks in upon the uniform tranquillity.
I recollect that, when a stripling, my first exploit in squirrel-shooting
was in a grove of tall walnut-trees that shades one side of the valley. I
had wandered into it at noontime, when all nature is peculiarly quiet,
and was startled by the roar of my own gun, as it broke the Sabbath
stillness around and was prolonged and reverberated by the angry
echoes. If ever I should wish for a retreat whither I might steal from the
world and its distractions, and dream quietly away the remnant of a
troubled life, I know of none more promising than this little valley.
From the listless repose of the place, and the peculiar character of its
inhabitants, who are descendants from the original Dutch settlers, this
sequestered glen has long been known by the name of SLEEPY
HOLLOW, and its rustic lads are called the Sleepy Hollow Boys
throughout all the neighboring country. A drowsy, dreamy influence
seems to hang over the land, and to pervade the very atmosphere. Some
say that the place was bewitched by a High German doctor, during the
early days of the settlement; others, that an old Indian chief, the prophet
or wizard of his tribe, held his powwows there before the country was
discovered by Master Hendrick Hudson. Certain it is, the place still
continues under the sway of some witching power, that holds a spell
over the minds of the good people, causing them to walk in a continual
reverie. They are given to all kinds of marvellous beliefs, are subject to
trances and visions, and frequently see strange sights, and hear music
and voices in the air. The whole neighborhood abounds with local tales,
haunted spots, and twilight superstitions; stars shoot and meteors glare
oftener across the valley than in any other part of the