Wolfert's Roost, and MiscellaniesIrving, Washington
General
Wolfert's Roost, and Miscellanies
Irving, Washington
American essays; Short stories, American
I was disturbed in my meditations by the noise of a troop of idle
urchins, who came gambolling about the place where I had so often
gambolled. They were checked, as I and my playmates had often been, by
the voice of the sexton, a man staid in years and demeanor. I looked
wistfully in his face; had I met him any where else, I should probably
have passed him by without remark; but here I was alive to the traces of
former times, and detected in the demure features of this guardian of
the sanctuary the lurking lineaments of one of the very playmates I have
alluded to. We renewed our acquaintance. He sat down beside me, on one
of the tomb-stones over which we had leaped in our juvenile sports, and
we talked together about our boyish days, and held edifying discourse
on the instability of all sublunary things, as instanced in the scene
around us. He was rich in historic lore, as to the events of the last
thirty years and the circumference of thirty miles, and from him I
learned the appalling revolution that was taking place throughout the
neighborhood. All this I clearly perceived he attributed to the boasted
march of intellect, or rather to the all-pervading influence of steam.
He bewailed the times when the only communication with town was by the
weekly market-boat, the "Farmers' Daughter," which, under the pilotage
of the worthy Gabriel Requa, braved the perils of the Tappan Sea. Alas!
Gabriel and the "Farmer's Daughter" slept in peace. Two steamboats now
splashed and paddled up daily to the little rural port of Tarrytown. The
spirit of speculation and improvement had seized even upon that once
quiet and unambitious little dorp. The whole neighborhood was laid out
into town lots. Instead of the little tavern below the hill, where
the farmers used to loiter on market days and indulge in cider and
gingerbread, an ambitious hotel, with cupola and verandas, now crested
the summit, among churches built in the Grecian and Gothic styles,
showing the great increase of piety and polite taste in the
neighborhood. As to Dutch dresses and sun-bonnets, they were no longer
tolerated, or even thought of; not a farmer's daughter but now went to
town for the fashions; nay, a city milliner had recently set up in the
village, who threatened to reform the heads of the whole neighborhood.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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