Which section highlights the idea that literature influenced Ichabod Crane's tendency to scare easily?

Editor's Note: This is the first in a three-part series telling the story of "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" and the Headless Horseman. The tale was written by American author Washington Irving in the early 1800s. The story of superstitious schoolmaster Ichabod Crane takes place in 1790 in the Dutch settlement of Tarry Town, New York, as he settles in and takes a particular liking to one of his pretty, female students.

In one of those coves along the shore of the Hudson River, there lies a small town called Tarry Town. Not far from this village, perhaps about two miles, there is a little valley among the hills. It is one of the quietest places in the whole world. A small brook glides through it, murmuring just enough to lull one to sleep. The occasional whistle of a quail or tapping of a woodpecker is almost the only sound that ever interrupts the calm.

When I was a young man, my first attempt at squirrel-shooting was in a grove of tall walnut trees on one side of the valley. I had wandered into it at noon, when all nature is quiet, and was startled by the roar of my own gun. The sound broke through the stillness around me and echoed through the grove. If I should ever wish for a retreat from the world and its distractions, I know of no better place than this little valley.

Because of its calmness, and the strange character of its inhabitants, this hidden valley has long been known as Sleepy Hollow.

The People Of Sleepy Hollow

A dreamy quality seems to hang over the land and to fill the very atmosphere. Some say that the place was enchanted by a German doctor during the early days of the settlement. Others say that an old Native American chief held his powwows there before the arrival of Henry Hudson and the Europeans. Certainly, the place is still under the spell of some witching power.

The people of Sleepy Hollow hold all kinds of marvelous beliefs, frequently see strange sights and hear music and voices in the air. The whole neighborhood abounds with local tales, haunted spots and twilight superstitions.

The main spirit that haunts this region is the ghost of a headless man on horseback. It is said to be the spirit of a German soldier, whose head was knocked off by a cannonball during the Revolutionary War. Ever since then, the soldier has been seen hurrying along in the gloom of night. His haunts are not confined to the valley but extend at times to the roads alongside it, and especially to the nearby church, where the soldier was buried. Some people say the ghost rides forth each night to the scene of the battle, looking for his head. He rushes past Sleepy Hollow at great speed to get back to the churchyard before daybreak.

This legendary superstition has inspired many wild stories in that region of shadows. The specter is known at all the country firesides by the name of the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow.

A Rather Lonely But Pleasant Place

Some 30 years ago, a man named Ichabod Crane came to Sleepy Hollow to teach children in the area. Crane was tall and thin, with narrow shoulders and long arms and legs. His head was small and flat at the top, with huge ears and a long nose. This head looked like a weathervane perched upon his slender neck to tell which way the wind blew. To see him striding along a hill on a windy day, one might have mistaken him for a scarecrow running away from a cornfield.

His schoolhouse was a low building of one large room, constructed of logs. It stood in a rather lonely but pleasant place, just at the foot of a woody hill, with a brook running nearby. From here, the low murmur of his pupils' voices might be heard on a summer's day, interrupted now and then by the voice of the schoolmaster.

When school hours were over, Ichabod Crane was the companion and playmate of the larger boys. On holiday afternoons he would walk some of the smaller ones home, who happened to have pretty sisters or good housewives for mothers. Indeed, it helped him to be on good terms with his pupils. It was the custom in those parts for the schoolmaster to stay at the houses of the farmers whose children he instructed. Ichabod Crane lived with them a week at a time, making his way through the neighborhood. He kept all his worldly possessions tied up in a cotton handkerchief.

A Man Of Some Importance

So that he would not be a burden to his hosts, Ichabod Crane found ways of making himself useful. He assisted the farmers with their lighter work, helped to make hay and cut wood for the winter fire. He found favor in the eyes of the mothers by looking after the children. He would sometimes sit with a child on one knee, and rock a cradle with his foot for several hours.

In addition to his other jobs, Ichabod Crane was the singing-master of the neighborhood and earned some money by teaching the young folks how to sing the Bible psalms. It was a matter of pride to him on Sundays to stand in church with a band of chosen singers. His voice resounded far above all the rest. Thus, by doing what he could, Ichabod Crane got on well enough and was thought to have a wonderfully easy life.

The schoolmaster is generally a man of some importance in the female circle of a rural neighborhood. He is considered a kind of gentleman, with better taste and accomplishments than the rough country men. His appearance, therefore, is likely to cause some stir among the women at teatime. Our Ichabod Crane was made especially happy by the smiles of all the country damsels. On Sundays, between services at church, he would gather grapes for them from the wild vines, or walk with them along the banks of the millpond. The more bashful country bumpkins would hang back, envying his elegance.

Because he had no permanent home, he was a kind of traveling newspaper, carrying the local gossip from house to house. His appearance was always greeted with satisfaction. He was esteemed by the women as a man of great knowledge, for he had read several books all the way through. He was a perfect master of Cotton Mather’s “History of New England Witchcraft,” in which he most firmly believed.

Tales Of Ghosts And Goblins

His appetite for the marvelous, and his powers of digesting it were equally amazing, and both had increased since he had settled in this spellbound region. No tale was too gross or monstrous for him to enjoy. It was often his delight, after school was dismissed, to stretch himself on the clover beside his schoolhouse. There he would study old Mather's dreadful tales until it was too dark to read. As he made his way home, every sound of nature excited his imagination.

He would listen to the cry of the tree toad and the hooting of the screech owl. The fireflies, which sparkled in the darkest places, now and then startled him. His only resource on such occasions, either to drown his thoughts or drive away evil spirits, was to sing psalm tunes. The good people of Sleepy Hollow often heard his melody floating from the distant hill, or along the dark road.

Another of his fearful pleasures was to pass long winter evenings with the old Dutch wives as they sat around the fire. He would listen to their marvelous tales of ghosts and goblins, and of the headless horseman. He would delight them equally with his stories of witchcraft.

But if there was a pleasure in all this, it came at the cost of the terrors on his walk home. What fearful shapes and shadows appeared on his path, in the dim of a snowy night! With what longing did he eye every ray of light from a distant window! How often was he appalled by some shrub covered with snow, which appeared like a specter! How often did he shrink with awe at the sound of his own steps on the frosty crust beneath his feet! And how often was he thrown into complete dismay by some howling among the trees, thinking it was the headless horseman!

All these, however, were mere terrors of the night, phantoms of the mind that walk in darkness. Though he had seen many specters in his time, daylight always put an end to these evils. He would have lived a pleasant life if his path had not been crossed by a being that causes more confusion to man than ghosts, goblins and all the witches put together. This being was — a woman.