All language subtitles for 1999 The Legend Of Sleepy Hollow

Ahh.

The same old move.

Always the same old move.

It's never gonna change, is it?

Ah.

Well, are you going to play
or what?

Ah.

Will you be wanting dinner, sir?

There's a great leg
of mutton tonight,

and perhaps a flagon of beer
to go with your meal?

Thank you, missus.

Uh, what is it you're doing,
mister?

Is you gonna draw pictures
like young Leonard there?

No, sir.

It is a kind of journal
I keep of my travels,

and this seems to be
a good night

and a good place
to catch it up.

I'll have your dinner
in a thrice, sir.

Thank you.

Would you like to eat in peace?

Just say the word.

Not at all.

I'm glad of the company.

A journal, is it?

You hear that, boys?

He keeps a journal.

What is a journal, sir,
if you don't mind me asking?

I don't mind in the least.

It's a kind of diary of stories

I hear from people I meet.

- Oh.
- Hear that?

It's stories he wants.

Well, you've come
to the right place.

Have I?

Then this ill wind has blown me
some good after all.

Well, it blows you into
Tarrytown on the Tappan Zee.

Tarrytown?

Sounds like a sleepy place.

Yep.

The good Dutch farmers
who settled this place

used to tarry here
over a pint and a pipe

and swap tall tales
on market day.

That's how the town
got its name.

Uh, what -- what are you gonna
do with all these stories?

More what I hope to do, sir.

It is my ambition to publish
a book of them someday.

A book.
A book. A book.

Ahh.

Thank you, my good woman.

My pleasure, sir.

And if I may, I'd be careful
putting anything this lot

has to say in any book.

What do you want
to make a book for?

The good ol' tall tales
is best told out loud

the way we heard 'em.

It's going on 50 years
and more even since the war,

and the stories people
tell of those times

will all soon be forgotten
if we don't write them down.

Oh, he's got a point there.

When we're gone, who'll be left
to tell any tales at all?

I can't even remember my name.

Well, I'd be glad
to stand around

for the pleasure of hearing
any tales you do remember.

My own father was one
of the men that hung

Major Andre from the tulip tree

right here in Sleepy Hollow.

I remember it very well.

He was a British spy

pretending he was sent here
by General Washington hisself.

Well, sir, my father seen
that he was wearin'

British officer boots,

and they had a good
look at his pockets,

and they come up with a note
written by that traitor

Benedict Arnold.

Well, sir,
they forward marched him

right over to the tulip tree,

and they strung him up
right there.

Would you like
to hear that tale?

I would indeed.

You just did.

And an excellent tale it is,
thank you.

It weren't the tulip tree.

It was the old oak.

And how would you know it?

Your pap wasn't there, was he?

Oh, no, he weren't.

But I was there meself.

Not 17 yet.

It was in the fall of '76.

When I told it
it was a true tale.

Now that you stuck your oar
in it,

it's just nothin'
but an another tall tale.

I'd gladly give you paper
from my journal,

if you'd show me
what you've been drawing

all this time on
that scrap of butcher's paper.

And who would this be?

That would be
Mr. Ichabod Crane.

- Yeah.
- Couldn't be
no other.

Aye, that's him.

It's as if Leonard has seen him
in the flesh itself.

It seems Leonard thinks
there's a tale

to be told about this Mr. Crane.

Oh, aye, and so there is.

And I'll be the one to tell it.

As for the rest of you,
you were nothin'

but a bunch
of runny-nosed brats,

if you ever saw
the man or not.

Ichabod Crane -- the only man
to be taken outright

from this world by the headless
horseman of Sleepy Hollow.

Now, that does sound
like a good tale.

Just showed up
on the Sleepy Hollow Road

one day
in the spring of...

'91.

A Yankee out of Connecticut,
or so he said.

Lookin' for work
as a school teacher,

or so he said.

Or so he said.

Aah!

Good morning.

(women talking,
chicken clucking)

Good morning.

There he is! Look!

He moves! The scarecrow.

You see, I'm not a liar.

Whoa!

Ah, good day to you, gentlemen.

I wonder if you'd be so kind as
to direct me to the home

of a Mr. Hans Van Ripper.

- Wow!
- Here you go.

Go on, now.

Let's go, fellas!

And what business have you
with him, stranger?

Ah.

I have it from a man
I met up river

that there might be a position
for a man of letters

as headmaster
of the Sleepy Hollow school.

I am told that Mr. Van ripper
is the superintendent.

You may mock me,
my good young man,

but I assure you no better
candidate is likely to be found.

I wasn't laughing at you,
friend.

Just at the idea
anyone would want the job.

But I'd say you're just
the man for it, if anyone is.

Wouldn't you, boys?

It's straight on a quarter mile.

You'll come to a path.

There's a sign there
for those who can read.

I'm told it says
Van Ripper Farm.

I need some more, Will.

Ooh!

It's a hot one, I must say.

No doubt that is the famous

Dutch ale of these parts
that you're enjoying there.

Best beer this side
of Amsterdam.

You don't suppose you could
make me

the loan of the price
of a glass?

I'd be only too happy to repay
you once I've had my salary.

Well, now, I'd be glad to.

Except I'd hate to send you
on your way

with the devil brew
on your breath.

Old Van Ripper's got no use
for a man

who takes any pleasure in life,
if you take my meaning.

Oh, well, I --

I thank you for your
wise counsel, young man.

But surely a glass of beer on
a hot day would not offend him.

Suit yourself, mister.

But I wouldn't tarry
if I was you.

You don't want to be
stumbling around

Sleepy Hollow after dark.

There's all manner of spooks
and sprites in these woods.

Ah, yes, the local
imps and goblins.

Well, this wouldn't be
the first town

I've been to that prides itself
on such superstitions.

Although, I've found it's
usually only the local townsfolk

who ever see any of them.

Maybe so.

But you Ain't never been
in Sleepy Hollow before.

True enough.

Well, I'll consider
myself warned, then.

Oh, I thank you
for your hospitality,

and I look forward
to the day I can repay it.

Fancies himself, don't he, boys?

Excuse me, sir.

Would you be Hans Van Ripper,

superintendent
of Sleepy Hollow School?

You a government man?

Ichabod Crane, sir,
late of Hartford, Connecticut,

come to seek the position
of master of the school.

A Yankee. Heh!

What brings you here?

Well, as I say, sir,
I'm offering the benefits

of my hard-won erudition

in molding the minds
of your fine young students.

Does that mean
you can read and write?

Indeed, sir.

Now, here I have
Mr. Noah Webster's speller,

and a primer of arithmetic,

and, uh, the Scottish Psaltery
and Chorister

consisting of the songs
by the inestimable

Mr. Thomas Sternhold,

and lastly,
my most cherished possession...

The Reverend Cotton Mather's
History of Witchcraft

in New England.

Now, I assure you, sir,

I have read all 4 of these
tomes, all through.

You can do sums?

I can. And the tables
of multiplication,

the disciplines
of division,

the -- all the secrets
of Pythagoras' geometer--

Wasn't thinking of hiring
no Yankee.

Well, this is indeed
a fortunate day for you, sir.

Now, if it were not
for my profound love

of the countryside,
I would still be lecturing

at Harvard College's
School of Divinity.

Well...

No one else has shown up
for the job,

so I guess it's yours.

2 shillings a month
and room and board,

shared out between
all the farmers

hereabout as has a youngun
in the school.

Now, if I may say so, sir,

that's a pittance for a man
of my erudition and reputation.

Take it or leave it.

Makes no difference to me

whether we have
a schoolteacher or not.

But, uh, Mr. Van Ripper,

you're the superintendent
of the school.

Ugh.

It's my bad luck the schoolhouse
sits on my back pasture.

Otherwise, I wouldn't
waste my time with you.

This is where you'll
sleep tonight

until arrangements are made.

Shouldn't find that hard
to do as sleep

is pretty much all anybody
does around here.

(birds whooping,
insects chirping)

Oh, save me now for my desert...

but for thy mercy's sake.

So grievous is my plaint
and moan

that I wax wond'rous faint.

All the night long
I wash my bed

with tears of my complaint.

Shh!

Shh, shh.

Shh.

Oh!

Good morning!

What's all this?

Oh, just a precaution against
the devils, imps, and goblins.

These woods are home to many
such of most unusual power.

You don't say.

Oh, but you need
not fret yourself.

Thanks to
the Reverend Cotton Mather,

my knowledge of their ways

is more than sufficient
to the task.

Huh.

Oh, uh...

Oh!

Hmm.

I'll, uh, ride about the valley,

let people know the school
has opened up.

Well, I look forward to meeting
my fine young charges.

Uh, heh!

I said I'd let them know,
but, uh, seeing as we

ain't had a teacher
in more than a year,

I suspect they noticed.

They've been doing just fine
without any schooling.

And so, dear students,
you will find in me a teacher

who intends to instill in you

a love of learning...

of hard work,
of pious discipline,

of country, and of God.

I'm a firm believer
in the golden maxim

that to spare the rod
is to spoil the child.

A question -- can anyone tell me
what that means?

Aah!

Well...

Well, now then...

we'll begin with spelling.

Why must we learn to spell

correctly what we speak
and write?

Well, here's how the great man
himself explains it.

"To diffuse a uniformity
and purity

of language in America,

to destroy
the provincial prejudices

that originate in the
trifling differences of dialect,

and produce
reciprocal ridicule."

Can anyone tell me
what that means?

Uh...

He means...

that by learning proper
spelling and pronunciation...

that no one will laugh at you
when you travel

away from Sleepy Hollow.

Is that clear?

Yes...

Ernest.

If we don't ever mean
to leave Sleepy Hollow,

does that mean
we don't have to go to school?

Oliver!

See what fine manners Mr. Crane

has when he's eating,
children?

I hope you're learning
from his example.

Yes, an excellent repast,
Mrs. Van Ecke.

You are an inspired cook,
if I may say so.

You're too kind, Mr. Crane.

You'll not be teaching
no newfangled notions, will you?

I don't believe
in no new notions.

Oh, no, sir. Nothing but
the finest in old notions.

The old notions are the best.

I particularly disfavor this
new notion of paying taxes.

No, no, I don't expect to be
teaching the youngsters

anything to do with taxes,
Mr. Van Ecke.

You need have no worry
on that score.

And you won't have to be
teaching Ernest here

to count any higher than 20.

That's all the hens
that fits in our coop.

Oh, well, I'll -- I'll bear that
in mind, Mr. Van Ecke.

Well, you don't
have to swallow

your whole week's
board at one sitting.

Jace!

Let Mr. Crane finish the, um,

the end of his meal in peace.

No offense intended.

Wouldn't want to see you busting
at the seams

on your first night is all.

Heh!

Oliver!

Well, I've got my chores.

You'll have to excuse
my husband's country manners,

Mr. Crane.

Oh, that's quite all right,
Mrs. Van Ecke.

A man of the land isn't likely
to understand

how the rigors of headwork
leaves one ravenous.

Of course it does.

Well, perhaps I should
go fetch my things

before it gets too dark.

Oh, my!

Are you sure you want
to go back out there?

Oh, fear not on my behalf,
Mrs. Van Ecke.

Thanks to my deep study

of the Reverend Cotton Mather's
works,

I have no fear of the evil
that thrives in darkness.

Oh.

(animals whooping,
insects chirping)

Spare me,
you terrible apparition!

I did not mean to mock you.

Cast me not into the pit,
I beg you!

Oh.

Go on, you old fool cow!

And the next time we meet,
let it be at table.

* Sing to the Lord *

* With cheerful voice *

* And serve with mirth *

* His praise forth tell *

* Come ye before Him *

* and rejoice *

* O enter then His gates
with praise *

* Approach his joy *

* With love unto *

* Praise Lord and bless His name
always *

* For it is He *

* We sought to do *

Oh!

An excellent message,
Pastor Van Der Veen.

The credit is the Lord's,
Mr. Crane,

for it is His word which
inspires my poor ones after all.

Yes, indeed.

Uh, you and your fine church
are excellent in every regard

but one,
though it's no fault of yours.

And that would be?

Why, a singing voice.

Now, I take no false pride
in having such,

but I would employ it
for His greater glory

with your kind permission.

What exactly do you
have in mind, Mr. Crane?

Well, I would gladly undertake
to give lessons

in liturgical choristry.

With your blessing, of course.

Well...

you do have a very strong voice,
Mr. Crane, but --

Oh, well,
then what say you, pastor?

Do I have your blessing
in this enterprise?

Oh, well...well...

Folks will marvel.

- They will marvel.
-
Yes, but --

Well, I know what concerns you.

Yours is a poor country church,
after all.

Now...

I will gladly reduce
my usual fees

for such professional lessons
to a mere, uh...

shilling per pupil.

Papa!

Uh, twice a week?

Papa, please.

What?

Okay. Will you excuse me?

Please!

Ah, forgive
my intrusion,

but please allow me
to introduce myself.

I am Ichabod Crane, headmaster
of Sleepy Hollow School,

and at Pastor Van Der Veen's
kind invitation,

choirmaster of
the Tarrytown Church.

Oh!

How do you do, Mr. Crane?

Um, I'd like to introduce
my husband Baltus Van Tassel.

My pleasure, sir.

You sing loud enough
to wake the dead, sir.

I'm surprised our ancestors
didn't jump out of their graves

to see what all
the fuss was about.

Well, what can I say?

It's a gift,
Meneer Van Tassel.

But I could not help
but take note

of Madam Van Tassel's
lovely singing voice,

and that of
your lovely daughter.

If the would but attend
my psalmody classes,

they would be the glory
or our choir.

Oh! Mr. Crane!

Do you really suppose
that we could be good enough

to sing before
the congregation?

Oh!

You have the voices of untutored
angels, Madam Van Tassel.

Goodness, Baltus,
did you hear that?

I don't know what
I'm hearing exactly.

I shall certainly attend
your psalmody class, Mr. Crane,

and do my best
to prove worthy of your choir.

Wonderful, Madam.

And your daughter?

Oh, she has a mind of her own,
that girl.

Stubborn as a mule, you mean.

Just like her father.

Katrina, we're going!

I have to go.

Katrina, dear,
this is Mr. Ichabod Crane,

our new schoolmaster.

I am enchanted to make your
acquaintance, Miss Van Tassel.

Ah, Katrina Van Tassel.

She was the most beautiful girl
I ever saw.

And the richest.

There wasn't a man alive
in Sleepy Hollow

who wouldn't sell his soul
to the devil

for fair Katrina's hand.

Till Ichabod Crane came along.

Aye.

Well, you wouldn't suspect it
just looking at him.

And who'd have taken him
for a thief of hearts?

Brom Bones certainly never did.

Mm!

* Nor led his life
as sinners do *

* Nor sat in scorner's chair *

* But in the lew
of God the Lord *

* Doth send his holy delight *

* And in the same,
doth exercise *

* Himself *

* Both day and night *

I'm sorry
Katrina couldn't come.

She's gone to Dobb's Landing
for the cup races tomorrow.

They've gone to cheer
on our town's champion --

Mr. Abraham Van Brunt.

Oh, I'm relieved to hear it.

I was disappointed to think
our choir would have to do

without her angelic coloratura.

Her -- Her what?

Oh.

That's a Russian phrase

for a singing voice
of many bright colors...

- Oh.
- If you will.

Like Joseph's coat
in the land of Egypt.

The sort that is suitable
for opera.

The voice, that is,
not the coat.

Oh, my, my!

I don't believe we've ever had
such a cultured gentleman

in Sleepy Hollow.

Why don't you come to dinner
with us tomorrow night,

Meneer Crane.

Well, I'd be honored.

Wait till I tell Katrina
she sings in colors!

Good night, Meneer Crane!

I was just talking to
a fellow I know from Sing Sing.

Taddeaus Kinkel?

I'll be racing against him.

Oh, yes?
I know Taddeaus.

What about him?

He told me he's leaving for
the Ohio territories in a week.

Brom, I thought we weren't going
to talk about this anymore.

Katrina, he's a year
younger than me.

There are men even younger
that have made their fortunes

farming out West.

There's no limit to what a man
can do out there

if he's got a strong back...

and a good wife.

Brom, please.

You know how I feel about it.
Why do you bring it up again?

What about how I feel?

Opportunity's passing me by.

This is a once-in-a-lifetime
chance.

But I can't go with you.

I won't.

I don't understand, Katrina.

I thought you wanted more out
of life than just Sleepy Hollow.

I do want more, but not less.

I want to see
the civilized world,

not the primitive wilderness.

I want to see Amsterdam
and attend concerts,

and see the fashions
and the great museums.

And I want to come home again
to the beautiful farm

my parents have spent
their lives building.

Brom, I am their only heir.

I can't just turn my back
on them.

Why do you have to go to Ohio
to make a fortune?

Is my father's farm
not enough for you?

I want to make my own way,
Katrina.

I don't want
your father's fortune.

I want to make one of my own.

A greater fortune than he
or anyone in Sleepy Hollow

ever dreamed of.

If you loved me,
you wouldn't say that.

You wouldn't want to drag me off
to live like a savage.

But I do love you,
and I'm saying it.

This is a great country.

The land of liberty.

Just waiting for men like me
to go out and settle it.

Please row me to shore, Brom.

Here they come!

Looky here, Katrina --

another cup for me
and Daredevil.

This is for you.

I think it would be
inappropriate to accept

such a gift from a friend,

wouldn't you say,
Pastor Van Der Veen?

What?

Oh! Yes, I suppose.

Silver, is it?

Yes, well, very valuable then.

It would signify,
wouldn't it, dear?

Indeed, it would.

A gift of silver signifies.

Mere friends of courting age
do not exchange such gifts.

It's just a prize
for a horse race.

Then perhaps you should give it
to your horse.

Good day!

Good day to you.

Carry on!

Katrina!

Katrina!

I'm home!

Why, Mr. Crane, you're early!

Oh.

Punctuality may be
a minor virtue,

but it is a virtue nonetheless,

and one can never have
enough virtue.

Therefore to be early
has even more virtue in it

then to be on time.

Indeed! My goodness!

I never would have
thought of that.

Come in.

At least he didn't show up
for breakfast.

He might've ascended
straight up into heaven.

Oh, Baltus!

Do come in, Mr. Crane.

Ohh!

There are 13 of them spoons
in there, if memory serves.

Oh! Well, I --I --

I was -- I was just admiring
the quality of the workmanship.

Dutch, no doubt.

English, as a matter of fact.

Had them from the box
of a Redcoat officer

in a skirmish about
half a mile from this house.

The summer of '74.

He would've done better
to carry a second musket

instead of a tea service.

But that was his misfortune
and, uh, my providence.

An excellent repast,
Mrs. Van Tassel.

You are an inspired cook,
if I may say so.

It's just simple Dutch fare,
Mr. Crane.

Nothing like what
you're used to, I'm sure.

You underestimate yourself,
my dear Mrs. Van Tassel.

I have eaten in some of
the finest homes in Boston,

and the cuisine
does not compare with yours.

Oh, well, you're kind to say so.

I'm sure the conversation
was much more lively

and interesting.

It's pitch black out already,
Amelia.

Do you want him running
into the Headless Horseman?

Oh, dear!

Where has the time gone?

The Headless Horseman?

Baltus,
you must see Mr. Crane home

in the carriage.

You won't catch me
on that road after dark.

I'm going to bed.

Good night to you, sir.

And God speed you.

Oh!

Well, you can stay
with us the night, Mr. Crane.

We have plenty of room.

Um, if you wouldn't mind,
Mrs. Van Tassel,

perhaps you could tell me
what you're referring to.

He was a Hessian mercenary who
has tormented our little town

ever since the day
he was killed.

- Tormented?
-
I'm afraid so.

It was in a skirmish right here
in Sleepy Hollow

on the night
of the full harvest moon.

Many of our men were there
that night,

and they swear to a man
that it's true.

They induced a Hessian captain
to turn his coat

and lead them
against the British

for a pack of gold coins.

A British frigate had landed
a force of infantry

upon the shore,
intent on taking Sleepy Hollow.

The Hessian captain organized
our defense.

He was leading the charge
against the invaders

when a round of British
grapeshot stuck him in his head

and carried it
clean off his shoulders.

Legend has it that at that
moment the full moon

turned red as blood.

But the headless body of that
captain rode on

without its head,
sword still upraised,

straight into the British lines!

Our boys, lead by their
headless captain,

drove them Redcoats
out of our Hollow,

and they never come back!

Oh.

My goodness.

An excellent tale.

A wonderful example of the...

genre of the local legend.

Genre?

Oh, uh...

it's an "I-talian" word.

Meaning a story widely believed

by the inhabitants
of a particular place.

And it really doesn't scare you
to go home

on the Sleepy Hollow Road?

Oh, not at all.

Not a bit.

It's gratifying to meet a man

who doesn't believe
all these silly superstitions

and isn't afraid to say so.

What?

Oh, yes.

Certainly not.

I don't believe them, either,
but I have to pretend to.

Everyone here is so proud
of their ghosts and goblins.

Well...

often these stories are the only
way of passing the time

in these little villages.

But an educated man like myself
does not take them seriously,

I assure you.

Well, Mother didn't tell you
why people are afraid to go

on the Sleepy Hollow Road
at night.

No, she didn't.

It's just more silly nonsense,
and I'm sure you must be tired.

No, no, not at all.

I'd be very interested
to know why people are

so afraid
to be on the road at night.

Old Heinrich Brewer
wasn't afraid of ghosts, either,

and like you,
he wasn't afraid to say so.

One night, about the same time
of year as this,

he took the Sleepy Hollow Road

for a shortcut coming back
from a trip to Manhattan.

Those he was traveling
with took the longer road

for fear of the Horseman,
but he scoffed at them

and boasted he'd be home
an hour before them.

He never made it home.

Up and down
the Sleepy Hollow Road,

people heard him screaming
and begging for mercy,

but no one dared go out.

They found him the next morning
in the churchyard...

with his head pulled down
into the earth

of the Horseman's grave
as far as his shoulders.

It seemed the Horseman
meant to take it down

into the grave for himself.

When they pulled him free,
his eyes were still staring

at the horror that loomed
over him at the last.

His face was as white and
bloodless as a sheet of paper,

and his neck had been stretched,

as though it had been
hung on a gibbet.

You see?

Silly, isn't it?

Oh, yes.

Quite, uh...

ridiculous.

Good night, Meneer Crane.

Oh.

Indeed, uh...

I should be on my way.

Good night.

(low rumbling,
Ichabod stops whistling)

* Lord, in thy wrath,
reprove me not *

* Though I deserve thine ire *

* Nor yet correct me
in thy rage *

* For I am weak *

* Therefore, O Lord *

* Of mercy me forbear *

-
-

Oh, my goodness!

Do you think Mr. Crane
has met the headless one?

We can only hope.

How can you say that?

Poor Mr. Crane!

Poor Horseman.

Your precious schoolmaster
has likely scared

the wits out of him
with all that bellowing.

Oh!

Good evening, Mrs. Van Tassel.

Good evening,
Meneer Crane.

Miss Van Tassel.

Well, if you please, ladies,
I think we're ready to begin.

Who does he think he is?

I heard it was her mama's idea
to have him for dinner,

not Katrina's.

I'll tell you who he is.

He's a weasel who thinks
that all he needs to do

is get his foot in the door
to steal my girl.

What are you gonna do?

We have open house on Sundays
after church.

Why don't you come
and have a cup of tea?

That would be alright,
wouldn't it, Mother?

Of course it would.

You're always welcome,
Mr. Crane.

It's my pleasure.

There goes Brom Bones
and his gang off

for another night
of carousing.

Will that boy ever grow up?

Not in my lifetime.

If I may say, Miss Van Tassel,
you demonstrate a wisdom

and a maturity far
beyond your tender years.

Good night, Meneer Crane.

Well, sir, the news
about Brom and Katrina

went 'round Sleepy Hollow
like a brush fire in a drought.

They're saying that every
marriageable man from 16 to 60

was ready to try his luck.

Damn fools,
every one of them.

Miss Van Tassel.

How lovely to see you.

Meneer Crane.

I'm so glad you could come.

If you'll excuse me, I'm going
to take a stroll

with Meneer Crane.

Please stay and finish your tea.

Mrs. Van Tassel,
do you not object

to your daughter
strolling with that man?

In my experience,
ducks and geese

are foolish creatures
who need to be looked after,

but your Katrina
can take care of herself.

I can hardly believe
something like that.

I assure you, it is true,
Miss Van Tassel,

confirmed by experiments
both here and in Europe.

The world spins like a top,
and half of every day,

we are topsy-turvy
whether we know it or not.

But I thought the world
is like a ball,

or else how could it
spin so smoothly?

Like a ball, Miss Van Tassel?

Well, does not a child's top
spin, yet it is not a ball?

Do you mean to say
that the world is like a top?

Well...

the learned men of science
are divided on this point,

for some think as I do,
while others,

who perhaps have not the studied
the matter as deeply,

feel it is more like a...

like a spinning wheel.

Now, both these forms have
spinning as their very nature

while balls have bouncing
as their nature.

Spinning, bouncing.

Very different.

You stir a yearning in me,
Meneer Crane.

I do?

I thirst for knowledge.

I'm so grateful to you
for sharing yours with me.

Well...

Miss Van Tassel...

won't you call me Ichabod?

We should be getting back.

Oh, yes.

Of course.

If the world is like a top
and spins on its point,

then what is it standing on?

What?

Oh, nothing.

I'm sure I'm just being silly.

Should we go back to the house?

Katrina!

Katrina!

If you had your choice
of anywhere in the world

to travel to, Ichabod,
where would you go?

Well, there's nowhere else
I'd rather be than

right here in Sleepy Hollow.

I'm quite serious.

Wouldn't you like to travel?

Well, sometimes it seems
like all I've ever done

is travel from
one place to another.

But don't you want to see
the great museums of Amsterdam?

Or hear an orchestra play?

I dream of seeing my homeland.

Ohh, yes.

Well, I...

I long to travel.

To see the pyramids of Egypt,

the Great Wall of China.

The world is full of wonders.

Is it so unusual
to have a wall in China?

Well, I suppose it must be.

Ladies.

Aah!

Run!

Run for your lives!

The devil has taken possession
of the schoolhouse!

I want you at the window.

Put an end to this now.

Alright. I'll go first.

He makes himself known
by turning things topsy-turvy.

It's meant to drive me
out of Sleepy Hollow,

but I will not be driven out.

We will fight him together!

Looks like the devil's
using hammer and nails

to work his spells these days.

Ichabod...

if you were me, what would
you do with your life?

Do?

I'd travel the world, of course.

Yes, I know, but would you have
some ambitions

to accomplish something
as well?

Ambition?

Oh, yes, of course.

Ambitions, yes, well...

You have ambitions.

Noble ambitions.

I do?

You...

You hope to one day marry...

As do I, although it is
a daunting challenge

on a country
schoolmaster's stipend.

Do you desire wealth?

Well, I've never really
given it a thought...

although I've always trusted
in the good Lord to provide.

So He has.

Although at times,
he's tested me sorely.

Would you spurn it if you
suddenly found yourself

in possession of wealth?

Well, I -- I...

Would you give it away

and keep only what you needed
to live your dreams?

Give it away?

Oh...

no.

Bear in mind, Katrina,

if the man of virtue
gives his wealth away,

well, those who have it from him
would likely be of lesser virtue

and thus, evil,
and not good would come of it.

O-O-Of course, they might not
be of lesser virtue

just because they're...

poor.

The question is a difficult one.

-
- Ohh!

- Aah!
-

Hello, Katrina.

What are you doing here?

I've brought you a new
singing master,

even louder than the old one,

and what's more, he won't
cost you your inheritance.

He'll sing for free or at least
the odd table scraps.

I've trained him myself.

Go away, Brom.

You're only making
a fool of yourself.

I don't see what difference
that makes now.

Do you, Katrina?

Abraham Van Brunt!

What do you think you're doing?!

Good evening,
Mrs. Van Tassel, Mr. Van Tassel.

I hope I haven't disturbed you,

but I know how much
Katrina admires loud singing.

Are you alright, Ichabod?

Oh, no, I'm fine. Fine.

Uh, I'll just sit down a moment.

Do you see what you've done,
Mr. Van Brunt?

No, I'm sure he didn't mean
his childish prank

to cause me any injury.

No, you're right there.

That was just a lucky turn.

Come along, Brom.

Let's see if there isn't
a little reward

for your reverent mutt, huh?

I think a drink is in order
after that performance.

I think Mr. Van Brunt has had
quite enough to drink already!

Oh, I meant for the dog,
my dear.

I see I've gone and made you
upset, Mrs. Van Tassel.

I'm very sorry.

Ha! Come on.

Katrina, go and fetch one
of your father's robes.

You can come and change
in the guest room, Mr. Crane.

I will get the stain out of your
suit and steam it and press it.

Oh, no, no.

That's hardly necessary,
Mrs. Van Tassel.

Oh, that's
nonsense! Of course it is!

You can't go home in soiled,
wet clothes!

You haven't done your cause
much good with this.

The cause is lost, Meneer.

Oh, she's just 18 years old.

She doesn't know her mind,

she just thinks she does,
and she's angry with you.

Have a little patience
until she sorts it out.

I mean no disrespect,

but am I wrong to want to make
my own way in the world?

Not just step in here
and have the benefits

of all you've accomplished?

Katrina feels she doesn't want
to turn her back on me

and her mother
and run off with you to Ohio.

I love her more
than life itself.

I don't believe he loves her...

not like I do.

Go home, Brom.

You start drowning your sorrows.

You need a clear head
and sharp eyes

to seize your chance
when it comes, hmm?

Will you do that?

I will.

It occurs to me that if
a stranger were to come in now,

he would judge you to be the
master here and me the guest.

Oh, I doubt that, sir.

I think anyone would see
immediately who is master here.

What do you think, Crane?

Would you like to be master
here some day?

Oh, Mr. Van Tassel,

I would never even think
such a presumptuous thought.

No, no, no, no, wait.

I am a man who appreciates
plain talk, Crane.

It will fall to
my daughter's husband

to prosper this farm for her
and for my grandchildren.

Do you think that you could
learn to manage van Tassel farm?

Well...

Well...

I will speak plainly,
Mr. Van Tassel.

I've no experience farming...

but I would devote myself
to the study of agriculture

and animal husbandry.

And you would be content
to give up all this bookishness

and be a farmer?

Without hesitation.

And these fancies of Katrina's,
culture and travel

and book learning
and so forth?

We're both men of the world,
sir.

These are the immature,
romantic fantasies

of a young
and sheltered girl.

I'm certain that once
she's presented you

with a grandchild...

she will put all these
foolish dreams

behind her, hmm?

Good morning, Mr. Crane.

Uh, Meneer van Tassel
extends an invitation

to harvest
merrymaking this evening.

He hopes you can attend.

Miss Katrina has invited me
to a merrymaking?

I suppose she concurs, sir.

Tonight?

I believe I mentioned
that as well, sir.

Well...

I'll be there.

You tell Miss Katrina, uh...

I'll be there.

Uh, Meneer will be glad
to know it.

Good day.

School --

School is dismissed.

And tomorrow shall be
a holiday, too!

You've done it!

Meneer Crane, you devil, you.

There is only one reason
for this merrymaking, hmm?

She doesn't want to wait
any longer

and neither do her parents.

Hmm...

Hmm...

You will be the master
of the Van Tassel Farm.

No, in the fullness of time,
the Crane Farm.

Uh...

No, no.

The Crane Estate.

Ahh!

Mrs. Van Ripper!

Mrs. Van Ripper!

Mrs. Van Ripper?!

Mr. Crane!

What on earth has happened?

Mrs. Van Ripper,

I am beset by Satan's imps.

They have ruined my only suit
of clothes

and -- and set a plague
of locusts upon me.

You must help me.

Calm yourself.

Sit down here on the porch
and wait a minute.

This is my husband's
wedding suit.

He was quite a bit thinner then,
but not much taller,

I'm afraid,
but it's the best I can do.

God bless you, Mrs. Van Ripper.

God bless you, Mrs. Van Ripper.

Hmm.

Uh, Mr. Van Ripper...

I hope you don't mind my making
a loan

of your wedding suit
for the evening.

You can keep it
for all it matters to me.

I'm not plannin' on marryin'
again anytime soon.

You know...

this may be a good omen
after all.

Ohh.

If my hopes are fulfilled
tonight,

I may ask for the loan
of this suit

once more for the purpose
it was made for.

Oh, could I ask
one further favor of you,

my dear superintendent?

I don't lend money.

Oh, no, not money, sir.

No. Only the use of a horse
for the evening?

A horse?!

Well, I must make
a proper impression.

I'm the guest of honor.

My, my.

Guest of honor.

Movin' up in the world,
aren't you, Mr. Crane?

Well, what do you say,
Mr. Van Ripper?

Will you let me have the horse?

Well, you can have
my plow horse, Gunpowder.

He may be too old
to pull a plow anymore,

but he can still be mean
as the devil.

Ohh, thank you, sir.

Mr. Van Ripper,

I will never forget
your kindness

and in years to come,
you will see

that Ichabod Crane...

knows how to treat his friends.

Gunpowder!

Come back here!

Right now!

Gunpowder was the most famous
plow horse in Sleepy Hollow.

Pardon my ignorance, but what
makes a plow horse famous?

Had no sense of direction!

And when Gunpowder
plowed a field,

it looked like the pattern
on a patchwork quilt!

That old workhorse wasn't just
dumb, he was downright ornery!

Just like his owner!

Gunpowder and Ichabod!

There's a sight
that you'd never forget!

Good evening!

Excuse me, ladies.

Ichabod.

You didn't have to dress up.

It's only a harvest merrymaking.

Ohh.
I'm sorry I'm late, Katrina.

I had a bit of difficulty
with my horse.

He's a spirited...

animal.

Evening, Brom!

I, uh...

It took me a while
to break him to my will.

I, uh...

I hope I didn't worry you.

Excuse me a moment.

Have we missed anything?

Ahh...

There.

That should hold you for a bit.

Oh, you are too kind,
Meneer Van Tassel.

Ah!
And have a glass of beer.

Wouldn't want you choking
on this night of all nights.

Enjoy yourself.

Come on, Katrina, let's dance.

No, thank you.

Just one dance.

Ohh...

Come, Ichabod,
storytelling has just begun.

I'm sure you don't want
to miss that.

Oh, what -- oh, yes,
but, um, uh...

Don't worry about Katrina.

The night is still young.

Hmm?

Ohh.

Katrina...

Brom.

What's going on, Katrina?

Did that Yankee schoolmarm cast
some kind of spell over you?

You're acting like...

like...

you're sweet on that fool.

What do you care if I am?

Katrina...

I love you.

I know you.

You can never be happy
with that grasshopper.

I'm asking you
for another chance.

Ichabod doesn't just dismiss
my dreams as you do.

Katrina, my exquisite one!

Th-Th-Th-Though
it is no fault of his own,

y-y-you're Mr. Van Brunt
is nothing

but an ignorant blacksmith.

If you, fair Katrina, would only
grant me your hand in marriage,

I-I-I-I would gladly
teach that poor fool

by -- by my example.

What say you, fair Katrina?

I'm going inside.

Are you coming?

You go on ahead.

I'll be along.

He dropped to his knees,

frantically digging at the grave
site with his bare hands.

His fingers ripping at the tree
roots that strangled her coffin.

His eyes burning and blinded
by the dust of her grave,

when suddenly, the woman's
hands pulled him

into the black pit screaming!

"Till death do us part!"

Well, good wife,
let's have the story

of the Headless Horseman
for our honored guest.

No one tells it like you do.

I'm afraid Mr. Crane
is very hard to impress.

I told him the tale
at this very house

and he still walked
the Sleepy Hollow Road

after the witching hour,
although I offered lodging.

Didn't you, Mr. Crane?

I did.

I think you'd be more impressed
if you ran into him.

Oh, but I did run into him,
Meneer,

but I'm not altogether sure
that it was your...

Headless Horseman and not
some other soldier of Satan,

for I did not see his head
or lack of one thereof,

but I can assure you he came
with companion ghosts.

What happened, Mr. Crane?

Tell the tale!

Tell the tale!

Tell the tale!

Well, uh, I was proceeding
homeward

to the Van Rippers',
where I was boarded that week,

when the haunts
charged me all together.

Well, had I shown fear,

they would have succeeded
in their purpose,

but I stood my ground,

and just as they were
about to trample me,

they vanished
like the mist...

into nothingness.

Just vanished, did they?

Like that.

I can hardly believe it.

I doubt it was the Horseman
he saw,

for no man can stand
in his way and live.

Well, Mr. Van Brunt,
I believe your Headless Horseman

fears those who do not fear him,

which explains why he charged me
in the company

of a host
of other mounted ghosts

as if he knew
that by himself

he would be at the disadvantage.

Brave words sitting here
in a room

full of God-fearing people,

with light and good food
and whiskey to warm your soul.

But I'll wager your blood
would run as cold as mine

did were you to meet
the real Headless Horseman

on the dark road all alone.

You've seen this
Headless Horseman?

Seen him...

and more.

Tell the tale!

Tell the tale!

Tell the tale!

I was returning home
from a name day celebration

from my uncle
in Sing Sing.

Though it was well past
the witching hour,

we came along
the Sleepy Hollow Road

to save us an hour
more of riding.

Some say it was foolish
taking the chance,

knowing what the Horseman
done to Brewer,

but I'd never spoken
disrespectful of him and me

and Daredevil could outrun
and out-ride any man or ghost!

Or so I thought.

And so it was.

As we come
to Major Andre's tree,

Daredevil pulled up
in his gallop

and reared up so high,
he nearly thrown me down...

And there before me with the
bright red moon behind him...

Sat the Headless Horseman
in the middle of the road.

He didn't move...

so I started Daredevil
at a gentle trot toward him,

thinking I could dash
through the stream around him

and make a run for my life.

I knew me and Daredevil
could do it...

but as we came abreast, he drew
his sword from his scabbard

and raised it high and then he
swung it around to take my head!

If I hadn't ducked down,

he would have sliced it
clean off with his fiery sword!

Well, sir, me and Daredevil,
we run like we never run before,

but that devil horse
was breathing fire

on Daredevil's rump,

and that sword was flashing
and slashing through the dark,

an inch from
the back of my neck.

We both knew what it was
we were up against.

We were running, I tell you,

but never did we gain
a stride on our pursuer.

I kicked that horse of mine
like I never kicked him

'fore or since, and he knew
what it was I wanted.

All we had to do was get
across the log bridge,

through the churchyard,
and past the Hessian's grave.

But as we come to the edge
of the stream,

I felt a blackness
cover me and Daredevil.

It was so thick, I couldn't see
my hand in front of my face,

and then, all of a sudden,
there he was...

in front of me,
across the stream.

He passed right through me!

I knew then it was all over.

He could do with me
what he wanted.

I closed my eyes and waited
for the blow...

And?

And?

Never come.

I opened one eye to see
what was taking him so long.

He'd sheathed his sword,
and if he had a head,

I had a feeling
it'd be smiling.

He turned his horse around
and trotted back

into the churchyard and down,

as though into a ravine...

until nothing of him remained.

But I am just
an ignorant blacksmith

without any of the education
Mr. Crane boasts of.

I doubt if I've given him
any reason

to fear the
Sleepy Hollow Road at night.

Have I, Mr. Crane?

Indeed, though the tale
you tell is terrifying,

to be sure, Mr. Van Brunt...

I'm confident and prepared
for any such encounter.

You still here, Ichabod?

Ohh.

Oh...

I'll be on my way momentarily,
Baltus.

I'm just hoping to have a moment
in private with Miss Katrina.

Ah, well, then, good night,
Ichabod, and, uh...

good-bye.

Here you are, Katrina.

Ichabod.

I thought you would have been
on your way by now.

There's, um...

There's something I've been
meaning to ask you

all evening long
and, well...

and I think the moment...

has come.

My dear Katrina,

I believe you know
what I wish to say.

I believe you know
what is in my heart.

I believe I do, yes.

My darling...

I am prepared to give up
my lifelong study

of the mysteries of
the invisible world all for you.

All I ask...

I ask for nothing...

but your dear hand in marriage,

that I may be
your husband

and protector,

your helpmate and mentor,

your guide and teacher --

You care nothing for me.

I doubt if you care for anyone
but yourself.

What did you say,
my dear Katrina?

All you care about is
my father's property and wealth.

What?

Who put such thoughts
into your head?

Uh -- Uh -- Uh...

Is it Brom that poisoned
your mind against me?

Brom may have no education,
but he does loves me.

It's me he wanted.

Only me.

But, Katrina, you...

you accuse me unjustly.

I...

I swear by all that's holy --

Careful, Mr. Crane.

To swear falsely by all that's
holy is to invite damnation.

Katrina...

how could you think me capable
of such a thing?

"We are both men of the world,
sir.

These are the immature
romantic fantasies

of a young
and sheltered girl.

I'm sure once she has
presented you with a grandchild,

she will put all such
foolish dreams behind her."

You are a hypocrite,
Mr. Crane.

Now I suggest you be
on your way.

Good night, and please
don't call on me again.

Go. Go on.

Whoa! Whoa!

Whoa! Whoa, boy!

Whoa, boy!

Gunpowder!

Gunpowder?!

Whoa! Oh, whoa!

Whoa!

Easy, boy! Easy!

That's it.

It's just a trick
of the moonlight.

Whoa!

Gunpowder.

Aah!

Oh!

Aah!

Ahhhhh!

Is this your head?

Well, it must be.

It's full of mush.

You think I didn't know
it was you?

Do you suppose I'm such a fool
as to think --

Uh...Uh...Uh...

Uh...

Uhh...

Aah...

-
-

Well, if it's what
it seems like,

he was took by
the Headless Horseman

right out of this world.

I can't understand
why such a terrible thing

could have befallen
poor Mr. Crane.

I reckon it was because
he was a Yankee.

I guess that just leaves us
to settle his accounts

right and proper.

He was a bachelor
as far as we knows.

Is anyone owed any money
by the departed schoolmaster?

Well, then, I say we burn
all this truck of his.

We don't want him coming back
from the pit

looking for his pipe,
I reckon.

of the unfortunate
Mr. Crane ever again?

Well, how could they when he was
snatched out of this world

by the Headless Horseman,

not even leaving a hair behind?

And Brom and Katrina,
what of them?

They was married shortly after.

It was the finest wedding anyone
ever seen in Sleepy Hollow.

I was there and danced
with the bride myself.

Brom Bones booked
passage to Amsterdam

and they stayed there
the whole of the winter.

It's Van Brunt Farm now,
bigger than ever,

and it's parceled out
to all the grandchildren.

So how say you,
Meneer Knickerbocker,

was this a tale
worth writing down?

Oh, yes, though there are one
or two points

on which I have my doubts.

Well, as to that, I don't even
believe one half of it, myself,

and I ain't sayin' which half.

Well, then,
let's raise our tankards

to the memory
of poor unfortunate Mr. Crane.

Ichabod Crane!

Why, that's the departed
Widow Jakobs,

with a living child
in her arms!

Now, that's a tale.

Not too long of one, I hope.

Well, it's said that she died
of childbirth

way back in the time of old
Heinrich Hudson himself.

She was the first buried
in what became our churchyard

together with her unborn child.

There was such a crush.

Old Heinrich Hudson
had tried to get

to the grave site
and failed miserably...