Легенда о Сонной Лощине
Found Among The Papers Of The Late Diedrich Knickerbocker.
Ichabod,whosefearsincreasedwiththedelay,jerkedthereinsontheotherside,andkickedlustilywiththecontraryfoot:itwasallinvain;hissteedstarted,itistrue,butitwasonlytoplungetotheoppositesideoftheroadintoathicketofbramblesandalderbushes.TheschoolmasternowbestowedbothwhipandheeluponthestarvelingribsofoldGunpowder,whodashedforward,snufflingandsnorting,butcametoastandjustbythebridge,withasuddennessthathadnearlysenthisridersprawlingoverhishead.JustatthismomentaplashytrampbythesideofthebridgecaughtthesensitiveearofIchabod.Inthedarkshadowofthegrove,onthemarginofthebrook,hebeheldsomethinghuge,misshapenandtowering.Itstirrednot,butseemedgatheredupinthegloom,likesomegiganticmonsterreadytospringuponthetraveller.
Thehairoftheaffrightedpedagogueroseuponhisheadwithterror.Whatwastobedone?Toturnandflywasnowtoolate;andbesides,whatchancewasthereofescapingghostorgoblin,ifsuchitwas,whichcouldrideuponthewingsofthewind?Summoningup,therefore,ashowofcourage,hedemandedinstammeringaccents,“Whoareyou?”Hereceivednoreply.Herepeatedhisdemandinastillmoreagitatedvoice.Stilltherewasnoanswer.OncemorehecudgelledthesidesoftheinflexibleGunpowder,and,shuttinghiseyes,brokeforthwithinvoluntaryfervorintoapsalmtune.Justthentheshadowyobjectofalarmputitselfinmotion,andwithascrambleandaboundstoodatonceinthemiddleoftheroad.
