Chapter 1 of 4 · A2 · Easy
The Schoolmaster
The Legend of Sleepy Hollow
On the east bank of the Hudson River, in New York, there is a small market town called Tarry Town. About two miles from it, there is a little valley among high hills. It is one of the quietest places in the world. A small river runs through it, and the only sound is a bird singing or a woodpecker tapping on a tree. This valley is called Sleepy Hollow.
The people of Sleepy Hollow are the children of the old Dutch settlers. They believe in all kinds of strange things. They see ghosts and hear music in the air. But the most famous ghost of the valley is the Headless Horseman. People say he was a soldier, a Hessian who fought in the American Revolutionary War. A cannonball took off his head in a battle. Now, every night, his ghost rides through the valley looking for his head. He always rides fast, because he must return to the churchyard before morning.
In this valley there lived a schoolmaster named Ichabod Crane. He came from Connecticut. His name, “Crane,” was perfect for him, because he looked like a tall, thin bird. He was very tall and very skinny, with narrow shoulders, long arms and legs, and enormous feet. His head was small and flat on top, with huge ears, big green glassy eyes and a long nose. When he walked on a windy day, with his clothes flying around him, he looked like a scarecrow escaped from a cornfield.
His schoolhouse was a small building of logs at the foot of a hill. He was strict with the children, but not cruel. Like other country teachers, he did not earn much money, so he lived with the families of his students, a week here and a week there. Ichabod was always hungry. He ate a lot, and the farmers' wives fed him well. In return, he helped on the farms and played with the little children. He was also the singing teacher of the village, and he was very proud of his voice in church.
Ichabod loved to read, and his favorite book was about witchcraft in New England. He believed every word of it. On winter evenings he sat with the old Dutch women by the fire, eating roasted apples and listening to their stories of ghosts, haunted fields and the Headless Horseman. Then he walked home in the dark, terrified. Every shadow looked like a ghost to him. To feel braver, he sang songs very loudly in the night.