impression　on　him；　but　there　was　one　species　of　despotism　under
  which　he　had　long　groaned；　and　that　was…　petticoat　government。　Happily
  that　was　at　an　end；　he　had　got　his　neck　out　of　the　yoke　of
  matrimony；　and　could　go　in　and　out　whenever　he　pleased；　without
  dreading　the　tyranny　of　Dame　Van　Winkle。　Whenever　her　name　was
  mentioned；　however；　he　shook　his　head；　shrugged　his　shoulders；　and
  cast　up　his　eyes；　which　might　pass　either　for　an　expression　of
  resignation　to　his　fate；　or　joy　at　his　deliverance。
  He　used　to　tell　his　story　to　every　stranger　that　arrived　at　Mr。
  Doolittle's　hotel。　He　was　observed；　at　first；　to　vary　on　some　points
  every　time　he　told　it；　which　was；　doubtless；　owing　to　his　having　so
  recently　awaked。　It　at　last　settled　down　precisely　to　the　tale　I
  have　related；　and　not　a　man；　woman；　or　child　in　the　neighborhood；
  but　knew　it　by　heart。　Some　always　pretended　to　doubt　the　reality　of
  it；　and　insisted　that　Rip　had　been　out　of　his　head；　and　that　this
  was　one　point　on　which　he　always　remained　flighty。　The　old　Dutch
  inhabitants；　however；　almost　universally　gave　it　full　credit。　Even
  to　this　day　they　never　hear　a　thunderstorm　of　a　summer　afternoon　about
  the　Kaatskill；　but　they　say　Hendrick　Hudson　and　his　crew　are　at
  their　game　of　nine…pins；　and　it　is　a　common　wish　of　all　hen…pecked
  husbands　in　the　neighborhood；　when　life　hangs　heavy　on　their　hands；
  that　they　might　have　a　quieting　draught　out　of　Rip　Van　Winkle's
  flagon。
  NOTE。
  The　foregoing　Tale；　one　would　suspect；　had　been　suggested　to　Mr。
  Knickerbocker　by　a　little　German　superstition　about　the　Emperor
  Frederick　der　Rothbart；　and　the　Kyffhauser　mountain：　the　subjoined
  note；　however；　which　he　had　appended　to　the　tale；　shows　that　it　is
  an　absolute　fact；　narrated　with　his　usual　fidelity：
  〃The　story　of　Rip　Van　Winkle　may　seem　incredible　to　many；　but
  nevertheless　I　give　it　my　full　belief；　for　I　know　the　vicinity　of
  our　old　Dutch　settlements　to　have　been　very　subject　to　marvellous
  events　and　appearances。　Indeed；　I　have　heard　many　stranger　stories
  than　this；　in　the　villages　along　the　Hudson；　all　of　which　were　too
  well　authenticated　to　admit　of　a　doubt。　I　have　even　talked　with　Rip
  Van　Winkle　myself；　who；　when　last　I　saw　him；　was　a　very　venerable
  old　man；　and　so　perfectly　rational　and　consistent　on　every　other
  point；　that　I　think　no　conscientious　person　could　refuse　to　take
  this　into　the　bargain；　nay；　I　have　seen　a　certificate　on　the　subject
  taken　before　a　country　justice　and　signed　with　a　cross；　in　the
  justice's　own　handwriting。　The　story；　therefore；　is　beyond　the
  possibility　of　doubt。
  D。　K。〃
  POSTSCRIPT。
  The　following　are　travelling　notes　from　a　memorandum…book　of　Mr。
  Knickerbocker：
  The　Kaatsberg；　or　Catskill　Mountains；　have　always　been　a　region　full
  of　fable。　The　Indians　considered　them　the　abode　of　spirits；　who
  influenced　the　weather；　spreading　sunshine　or　clouds　over　the
  landscape；　and　sending　good　or　bad　hunting　seasons。　They　were　ruled　by
  an　old　squaw　spirit；　said　to　be　their　mother。　She　dwelt　on　the　highest
  peak　of　the　Catskills；　and　had　charge　of　the　doors　of　day　and　night　to
  open　and　shut　them　at　the　proper　hour。　She　hung　up　the　new　moons　in
  the　skies；　and　cut　up　the　old　ones　into　stars。　In　times　of　drought；　if
  properly　propitiated；　she　would　spin　light　summer　clouds　out　of
  cobwebs　and　morning　dew；　and　send　them　off　from　the　crest　of　the
  mountain；　flake　after　flake；　like　flakes　of　carded　cotton；　to　float　in
  the　air；　until；　dissolved　by　the　heat　of　the　sun；　they　would　fall　in
  gentle　showers；　causing　the　grass　to　spring；　the　fruits　to　ripen；
  and　the　corn　to　grow　an　inch　an　hour。　If　displeased；　however；　she
  would　brew　up　clouds　black　as　ink；　sitting　in　the　midst　of　them　like　a
  bottle…bellied　spider　in　the　midst　of　its　web；　and　when　these　clouds
  broke；　wo　betide　the　valleys！
  In　old　times；　say　the　Indian　traditions；　there　was　a　kind　of　Manitou
  or　Spirit；　who　kept　about　the　wildest　recesses　of　the　Catskill
  Mountains；　and　took　a　mischievous　pleasure　in　wreaking　all　kinds　of
  evils　and　vexations　upon　the　red　men。　Sometimes　he　would　assume　the
  form　of　a　bear；　a　panther；　or　a　deer；　lead　the　bewildered　hunter　a
  weary　chase　through　tangled　forests　and　among　ragged　rocks；　and　then
  spring　off　with　a　loud　ho！　ho！　leaving　him　aghast　on　the　brink　of　a
  beetling　precipice　or　raging　torrent。
  The　favorite　abode　of　this　Manitou　is　still　shown。　It　is　a　great
  rock　or　cliff　on　the　loneliest　part　of　the　mountains；　and；　from　the
  flowering　vines　which　clamber　about　it；　and　the　wild　flowers　which
  abound　in　its　neighborhood；　is　known　by　the　name　of　Garden　Rock。
  Near　the　foot　of　it　is　a　small　lake；　the　haunt　of　the　solitary
  bittern；　with　water…snakes　basking　in　the　sun　on　the　leaves　of　the
  pond…lilies　which　lie　on　the　surface。　This　place　was　held　in　great　awe
  by　the　Indians；　insomuch　that　the　boldest　hunter　would　not　pursue
  his　game　within　its　precincts。　Once　upon　a　time；　however；　a　hunter　who
  had　lost　his　way；　penetrated　to　the　garden　rock；　where　he　beheld　a
  number　of　gourds　placed　in　the　crotches　of　trees。　One　of　these　he
  seized　and　made　off　with　it；　but　in　the　hurry　of　his　retreat　he　let　it
  fall　among　the　rocks；　when　a　great　stream　gushed　forth；　which　washed
  him　away　and　swept　him　down　precipices；　where　he　was　dashed　to　pieces；
  and　the　stream　made　its　way　to　the　Hudson；　and　continues　to　flow　to
  the　present　day；　being　the　identical　stream　known　by　the　name　of　the
  Kaaters…kill。
  THE　END
  。