http://booksihtmsp36axxmnkkfjvpwenvxu4mhdwg5mmdvmeip3a6c4tnnsyd.onion/bookreader.php/71422/washington-irving-the-legend-of-sleepy-hollow.html
It was often his delight, after his school was dismissed in the afternoon, to stretch himself on the rich bed of clover bordering the little brook that whimpered by his schoolhouse, and there con over old Mather’s direful tales, until the gathering dusk of evening made the printed page a mere mist before his eyes. Then, as he wended his way by swamp and stream and awful woodland, to the farmhouse where he happened to be quartered, every sound of nature, at that witching hour, fluttered his...