"
It was some time before he could get into the regular track of gossip,
or could be made to comprehend the strange events that had taken place
during his torpor. How that there had been a revolutionary war- that
the country had thrown off the yoke of old England- and that,
instead of being a subject of his Majesty George the Third, he was now
a free citizen of the United States. Rip, in fact, was no
politician; the changes of states and empires made but little
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.
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