Chương Chương 3 · 第3章

The pedagogue’s mouth watered as he looked upon this sumptuous promise

of luxurious winter fare. In his devouring mind’s eye, he pictured to

himself every roasting-pig running about with a pudding in his belly,

and an apple in his mouth; the pigeons were snugly put to bed in a

comfortable pie, and tucked in with a coverlet of crust; the geese were

swimming in their own gravy; and the ducks pairing cosily in dishes,

like snug married couples, with a decent competency of onion sauce. In

the porkers he saw carved out the future sleek side of bacon, and juicy

relishing ham; not a turkey but he beheld daintily trussed up, with

its gizzard under its wing, and, peradventure, a necklace of savory

sausages; and even bright chanticleer himself lay sprawling on his back,

in a side dish, with uplifted claws, as if craving that quarter which

his chivalrous spirit disdained to ask while living.

As the enraptured Ichabod fancied all this, and as he rolled his great

green eyes over the fat meadow lands, the rich fields of wheat, of rye,

of buckwheat, and Indian corn, and the orchards burdened with ruddy

fruit, which surrounded the warm tenement of Van Tassel, his heart

yearned after the damsel who was to inherit these domains, and his

imagination expanded with the idea, how they might be readily turned

into cash, and the money invested in immense tracts of wild land, and

shingle palaces in the wilderness. Nay, his busy fancy already realized

his hopes, and presented to him the blooming Katrina, with a whole

family of children, mounted on the top of a wagon loaded with household

trumpery, with pots and kettles dangling beneath; and he beheld himself

bestriding a pacing mare, with a colt at her heels, setting out for

Kentucky, Tennessee,--or the Lord knows where!

When he entered the house, the conquest of his heart was complete. It

was one of those spacious farmhouses, with high-ridged but lowly sloping

roofs, built in the style handed down from the first Dutch settlers; the

low projecting eaves forming a piazza along the front, capable of being

closed up in bad weather. Under this were hung flails, harness, various

utensils of husbandry, and nets for fishing in the neighboring

river. Benches were built along the sides for summer use; and a great

spinning-wheel at one end, and a churn at the other, showed the various

uses to which this important porch might be devoted. From this piazza

the wondering Ichabod entered the hall, which formed the centre of the

mansion, and the place of usual residence. Here rows of resplendent

pewter, ranged on a long dresser, dazzled his eyes. In one corner

stood a huge bag of wool, ready to be spun; in another, a quantity of

linsey-woolsey just from the loom; ears of Indian corn, and strings of

dried apples and peaches, hung in gay festoons along the walls, mingled

with the gaud of red peppers; and a door left ajar gave him a peep into

the best parlor, where the claw-footed chairs and dark mahogany tables

shone like mirrors; andirons, with their accompanying shovel and

tongs, glistened from their covert of asparagus tops; mock-oranges and

conch-shells decorated the mantelpiece; strings of various-colored birds

eggs were suspended above it; a great ostrich egg was hung from

the centre of the room, and a corner cupboard, knowingly left open,

displayed immense treasures of old silver and well-mended china.

From the moment Ichabod laid his eyes upon these regions of delight, the

peace of his mind was at an end, and his only study was how to gain the

affections of the peerless daughter of Van Tassel. In this enterprise,

however, he had more real difficulties than generally fell to the lot of

a knight-errant of yore, who seldom had anything but giants, enchanters,

fiery dragons, and such like easily conquered adversaries, to contend

with and had to make his way merely through gates of iron and brass,

and walls of adamant to the castle keep, where the lady of his heart was

confined; all which he achieved as easily as a man would carve his way

to the centre of a Christmas pie; and then the lady gave him her hand as

a matter of course. Ichabod, on the contrary, had to win his way to

the heart of a country coquette, beset with a labyrinth of whims

and caprices, which were forever presenting new difficulties and

impediments; and he had to encounter a host of fearful adversaries of

real flesh and blood, the numerous rustic admirers, who beset every

portal to her heart, keeping a watchful and angry eye upon each other,

but ready to fly out in the common cause against any new competitor.

Among these, the most formidable was a burly, roaring, roystering blade,

of the name of Abraham, or, according to the Dutch abbreviation, Brom

Van Brunt, the hero of the country round, which rang with his feats of

strength and hardihood. He was broad-shouldered and double-jointed,

with short curly black hair, and a bluff but not unpleasant countenance,

having a mingled air of fun and arrogance. From his Herculean frame

and great powers of limb he had received the nickname of BROM BONES,

by which he was universally known. He was famed for great knowledge and

skill in horsemanship, being as dexterous on horseback as a Tartar.

He was foremost at all races and cock fights; and, with the ascendancy

which bodily strength always acquires in rustic life, was the umpire in

all disputes, setting his hat on one side, and giving his decisions with

an air and tone that admitted of no gainsay or appeal. He was always

ready for either a fight or a frolic; but had more mischief than

ill-will in his composition; and with all his overbearing roughness,

there was a strong dash of waggish good humor at bottom. He had three or

four boon companions, who regarded him as their model, and at the

head of whom he scoured the country, attending every scene of feud or

merriment for miles round. In cold weather he was distinguished by a

fur cap, surmounted with a flaunting fox’s tail; and when the folks at a

country gathering descried this well-known crest at a distance, whisking

about among a squad of hard riders, they always stood by for a squall.

Sometimes his crew would be heard dashing along past the farmhouses at

midnight, with whoop and halloo, like a troop of Don Cossacks; and the

old dames, startled out of their sleep, would listen for a moment till

the hurry-scurry had clattered by, and then exclaim, “Ay, there goes

Brom Bones and his gang!” The neighbors looked upon him with a mixture

of awe, admiration, and good-will; and, when any madcap prank or rustic

brawl occurred in the vicinity, always shook their heads, and warranted

Brom Bones was at the bottom of it.

This rantipole hero had for some time singled out the blooming Katrina

for the object of his uncouth gallantries, and though his amorous

toyings were something like the gentle caresses and endearments of a

bear, yet it was whispered that she did not altogether discourage his

hopes. Certain it is, his advances were signals for rival candidates to

retire, who felt no inclination to cross a lion in his amours; insomuch,

that when his horse was seen tied to Van Tassel’s paling, on a Sunday

night, a sure sign that his master was courting, or, as it is termed,

“sparking,” within, all other suitors passed by in despair, and carried

the war into other quarters.

Such was the formidable rival with whom Ichabod Crane had to contend,

and, considering all things, a stouter man than he would have shrunk

from the competition, and a wiser man would have despaired. He had,

however, a happy mixture of pliability and perseverance in his nature;

he was in form and spirit like a supple-jack--yielding, but tough;

though he bent, he never broke; and though he bowed beneath the

slightest pressure, yet, the moment it was away--jerk!--he was as erect,

and carried his head as high as ever.

To have taken the field openly against his rival would have been

madness; for he was not a man to be thwarted in his amours, any more

than that stormy lover, Achilles. Ichabod, therefore, made his advances

in a quiet and gently insinuating manner. Under cover of his character

of singing-master, he made frequent visits at the farmhouse; not that he

had anything to apprehend from the meddlesome interference of parents,

which is so often a stumbling-block in the path of lovers. Balt Van

Tassel was an easy indulgent soul; he loved his daughter better even

than his pipe, and, like a reasonable man and an excellent father, let

her have her way in everything. His notable little wife, too, had enough

to do to attend to her housekeeping and manage her poultry; for, as she

sagely observed, ducks and geese are foolish things, and must be looked

after, but girls can take care of themselves. Thus, while the busy dame

bustled about the house, or plied her spinning-wheel at one end of the

piazza, honest Balt would sit smoking his evening pipe at the other,

watching the achievements of a little wooden warrior, who, armed with a

sword in each hand, was most valiantly fighting the wind on the pinnacle

of the barn. In the mean time, Ichabod would carry on his suit with the

daughter by the side of the spring under the great elm, or sauntering

along in the twilight, that hour so favorable to the lover’s eloquence.

I profess not to know how women’s hearts are wooed and won. To me they

have always been matters of riddle and admiration. Some seem to have but

one vulnerable point, or door of access; while others have a thousand

avenues, and may be captured in a thousand different ways. It is a

great triumph of skill to gain the former, but a still greater proof of

generalship to maintain possession of the latter, for man must battle

for his fortress at every door and window. He who wins a thousand common

hearts is therefore entitled to some renown; but he who keeps undisputed

sway over the heart of a coquette is indeed a hero. Certain it is, this

was not the case with the redoubtable Brom Bones; and from the moment

Ichabod Crane made his advances, the interests of the former evidently

declined: his horse was no longer seen tied to the palings on Sunday

nights, and a deadly feud gradually arose between him and the preceptor

of Sleepy Hollow.