Rip Van Winkle

"Rip Van Winkle" by Washington Irving

Rip Van Winkle was the most popular man in his little town. He told jokes to the men at the tavern, he always tipped his hat politely to the ladies he passed on the street, and he loved to join in the games that the children played in the park. No one in town had a bad thing to say about Rip Van Winkle. Nobody except his wife, that is.

Every fun thing that he did, everything that the townspeople loved him for, he did while he was supposed to be doing his chores. Rip Van Winkle hated to do chores and was very good at getting out of them. Once, Mrs. Van Winkle had given Rip a broom and told him to sweep the bedroom. When she came back to check on him, she had discovered that he had tied their bed sheets to the broom and was outside in the yard flying it like a kite. But most of the time, she would just find him taking a nap instead of doing his chores like he was supposed to.

There was nothing Rip liked better than a nice nap in the middle of the day. Whenever his wife caught him napping, she would start yelling at him and would call him lazy and useless. There was nothing Rip's wife liked better than to yell at Rip.

One sunny afternoon, Mrs. Van Winkle told her husband to go into the woods and chop some firewood. Afraid of getting another ear-full from his wife, he took his ax and marched off. He kept walking and walking and didn't stop until he was in the deepest, darkest part of the forest. He looked around. He saw trees; he saw rocks. Most importantly, he didn't see his wife. He gave a sigh of relief and tossed the ax to the ground next to him. He sat down and rested his back against a big oak tree. The sweet chirping of birds replaced the shouts and insults of his bossy wife, and he quickly fell into a deep sleep.

He awoke with a groan to the feeling of something strange scratching his chin. He peered down his nose to discover that he had grown a huge white beard overnight. He ran his fingers through it while he thought. "I'm pretty sure I didn't have this when I went to sleep. I must have had some sort of hair-splosion!" He decided that the first thing he'd do when he got home was get a haircut, assuming his wife didn't kill him first for staying out all night. He reached down to pick up his ax, but noticed that it had somehow become old and rusted. He shrugged and said, "They just don't make axes like they used to."

As he neared the town, he began to suspect that something was wrong. The buildings were bigger, and there were a lot more of them than there were yesterday. As he made his way into the town square, he realized that he didn't recognize anything. People began to crowd around him, and they pointed at him and whispered to one another. With his ragged clothes and big white beard, he was quite a sight.

Eventually, a man forced his way through the crowd and walked up to Rip Van Winkle. "Sir, I don't want to be rude, but you look a little lost." he said.

"I feel a little lost." replied Rip Van Winkle. "Who are you?"

"Why, I'm the mayor of this town." he answered, proudly.

"You're lying!" Rip suddenly snapped. "I know the mayor, and you aren't him!"

The man began to lose his patience. "Look, you old coot, you have no idea what you're talking about."

"Who are you calling an old coot?!" yelled Rip, who had never considered himself to be old.

"You!" said the mayor. "Have you looked in a mirror lately?"

"Well, not recently, I've been— " began Rip Van Winkle. As he was talking, someone handed him a mirror. The face staring back at him was old and wrinkled. He screamed. "But this can't be right!" he cried, "Yesterday I was the most popular man in town! Hasn't anyone heard of Rip Van Winkle?"

"Now that you mention it, I remember a 'Rip Van Winkle' from when I was a boy, but my parents told me he disappeared in the woods. That was twenty years ago." said the mayor.

Rip gasped. He had been asleep in the woods for twenty years. He frowned as he thought about how everyone he ever knew was gone: his friends, his family, his wife. His train of thought came to a screeching halt. He repeated the list again, and then he smiled. "My wife," he said, "she's gone, isn't she?"

"I'm afraid so." said the mayor.

"I'm free!" exclaimed Rip Van Winkle. He had never been so happy in his life. Over the next few days, he did everything he had ever dreamed of. He stayed out all night, he played in the park instead of doing chores, and he napped wherever he pleased without fear of being eaten alive by his wife. But as he stood in his house, he felt like something was missing. He knew it wasn't twenty years of mold and cobwebs, because the house definitely had those. There was a warmth missing from his home.

When he realized what it was, he collapsed into an old, moth-eaten chair. He missed his wife. He knew that she was gone and that there was nothing he could do about it. He felt himself begin to cry and he shut his eyes as hard as he could and wished he was back home, back where his wife was. Whenever Rip Van Winkle sat in a chair with his eyes closed, he always fell asleep. This time was no exception.

A cold breeze woke Rip up. Naturally, he assumed his house was drafty because it had been without firewood for twenty years. But as he slowly opened his eyes, he realized it was cold because he was in the middle of the woods. He was back at the spot in the woods where he had slept for so long. When he noticed that his beard and arthritis were gone, he realized that it had all been a dream. Rip had never been so happy in his life. He ran back home to tell his wife that he loved her and how he was a changed man. And of course, he forgot to bring back the firewood.