Легенда о Сонной Лощине
Found Among The Papers Of The Late Diedrich Knickerbocker.
Hewastheadmirationofallthenegroes;who,havinggathered,ofallagesandsizes,fromthefarmandtheneighborhood,stoodformingapyramidofshiningblackfacesateverydoorandwindow,gazingwithdelightatthescene,rollingtheirwhiteeyeballs,andshowinggrinningrowsofivoryfromeartoear.Howcouldthefloggerofurchinsbeotherwisethananimatedandjoyous?Theladyofhisheartwashispartnerinthedance,andsmilinggraciouslyinreplytoallhisamorousoglings;whileBromBones,sorelysmittenwithloveandjealousy,satbroodingbyhimselfinonecorner.
Whenthedancewasatanend,Ichabodwasattractedtoaknotofthesagerfolks,who,withOldVanTassel,satsmokingatoneendofthepiazza,gossipingoverformertimes,anddrawingoutlongstoriesaboutthewar.
Thisneighborhood,atthetimeofwhichIamspeaking,wasoneofthosehighlyfavoredplaceswhichaboundwithchronicleandgreatmen.TheBritishandAmericanlinehadrunnearitduringthewar;ithad,therefore,beenthesceneofmaraudingandinfestedwithrefugees,cowboys,andallkindsofborderchivalry.Justsufficienttimehadelapsedtoenableeachstorytellertodressuphistalewithalittlebecomingfiction,and,intheindistinctnessofhisrecollection,tomakehimselftheheroofeveryexploit.
TherewasthestoryofDoffueMartling,alargeblue-beardedDutchman,whohadnearlytakenaBritishfrigatewithanoldironnine-pounderfromamudbreastwork,onlythathisgunburstatthesixthdischarge.
