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The Legend of SleepyHollow
Washington Irving
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53Found among the papers of the late DiedrechKnickerbocker.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 whichindent the eastern shore of the Hudson, at that broadexpansion of the river denominated by the ancient Dutchnavigators the Tappan Zee, and where they alwaysprudently shortened sail and implored the protection of St.Nicholas when they crossed, there lies a small markettown or rural port, which by some is called Greensburgh,but which is more generally and properly known by thename of Tarry Town. This name was given, we are told,in former days, by the good housewives of the adjacentcountry, from the inveterate propensity of their husbandsto linger about the village tavern on market days. Be thatas it may, I do not vouch for the fact, but merely advert toit, for the sake of being precise and authentic. Not far from this village, perhaps about two miles, there is a littlevalley or rather lap of land among high hills, which is one
 
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53of the quietest places in the whole world. A small brookglides through it, with just murmur enough to lull one torepose; and the occasional whistle of a quail or tapping of a woodpecker is almost the only sound that ever breaks inupon the uniform tranquillity.I recollect that, when a stripling, my first exploit insquirrel-shooting was in a grove of tall walnut-trees thatshades one side of the valley. I had wandered into it atnoontime, when all nature is peculiarly quiet, and wasstartled by the roar of my own gun, as it broke theSabbath stillness around and was prolonged andreverberated by the angry echoes. If ever I should wish for a retreat whither I might steal from the world and itsdistractions, and dream quietly away the remnant of atroubled life, I know of none more promising than thislittle valley.From the listless repose of the place, and the peculiar character of its inhabitants, who are descendants from theoriginal Dutch settlers, this sequestered glen has long beenknown by the name of SLEEPY HOLLOW, and its rusticlads are called the Sleepy Hollow Boys throughout all theneighboring country. A drowsy, dreamy influence seemsto hang over the land, and to pervade the veryatmosphere. Some say that the place was bewitched by a
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