Легенда о Сонной Лощине
Found Among The Papers Of The Late Diedrich Knickerbocker.
Onafineautumnalafternoon,Ichabod,inpensivemood,satenthronedontheloftystoolfromwhenceheusuallywatchedalltheconcernsofhislittleliteraryrealm.Inhishandheswayedaferule,thatsceptreofdespoticpower;thebirchofjusticereposedonthreenailsbehindthethrone,aconstantterrortoevildoers,whileonthedeskbeforehimmightbeseensundrycontrabandarticlesandprohibitedweapons,detecteduponthepersonsofidleurchins,suchashalf-munchedapples,popguns,whirligigs,fly-cages,andwholelegionsoframpantlittlepapergamecocks.Apparentlytherehadbeensomeappallingactofjusticerecentlyinflicted,forhisscholarswereallbusilyintentupontheirbooks,orslylywhisperingbehindthemwithoneeyekeptuponthemaster;andakindofbuzzingstillnessreignedthroughouttheschoolroom.Itwassuddenlyinterruptedbytheappearanceofanegrointow-clothjacketandtrowsers,around-crownedfragmentofahat,likethecapofMercury,andmountedonthebackofaragged,wild,half-brokencolt,whichhemanagedwitharopebywayofhalter.HecameclatteringuptotheschooldoorwithaninvitationtoIchabodtoattendamerry-makingor“quiltingfrolic,”tobeheldthateveningatMynheerVanTassel’s;andhavingdeliveredhismessagewiththatairofimportance,andeffortatfinelanguage,whichanegroisapttodisplayonpettyembassiesofthekind,hedashedoverthebrook,andwasseenscamperingawayupthehollow,fulloftheimportanceandhurryofhismission.
Allwasnowbustleandhubbubinthelatequietschoolroom.
