The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad Page #3

part. There was no margin for error.

The odds against them were tremendous,

but the stakes were high.

But now, steady's the word...

One false move and four

lives hang in the balance.

Careful, lads. There is a guard.

- I'll pop him off!

- Don't shoot!

Who goes there?

That was a close one.

Trust Toad to start things

off on the wrong foot.

No turning back now. Nothing

for it but to push on.

What new and greater perils

lay ahead, no one could say.

Toad had already got out of

hand, so anything could happen.

Look. They're all asleep.

Lads, they're drunk.

They've been hitting the bottle.

But where is Winky?

There he is!

He's got the paper on him!

We'll have to climb

up on the balcony.

The paper! It's gone!

Get him, you blokes!

I beg your pardon!

Over here!

After it!

- Just one more!

- There he is! Get him!

Where's Moley?

Well, laddies, we saved our skins,

but we didn't get the deed.

Well done!

Hip, hip, hooray!

So, it was a happy

ending, after all.

Toad's friends were dreadfully

proud of him. And why not?

He was a new Toad,

completely reformed,

through with gypsy carts

and motorcars for ever.

And so, on this happiest of New

Years, a toast was in order.

- To the New Year and...

- To the new Toad!

Hello, you fellows!

Come! I'll show you the world.

Travel, change, excitement...

That was the fabulous

Thaddeus Toad.

But let's weigh our

judgement carefully,

we Moles and Rats and Badgers.

Don't we envy him a bit?

I know I do.

When we speak of

fabulous characters,

the most fabulous will

always be, to me,

the master of Toad Hall.

Yes! J Thad was quite a lad!

Speaking of fabulous characters,

England has produced a bumper crop.

But here in the colonies,

we have a few of our own.

Paul Bunyan, Pecos Bill,

Johnny Appleseed, Black Bart,

Davy Crockett, Daniel Boone.

And, of course, the one

and only Ichabod Crane.

Ichy was the country schoolmaster

dreamed up by Washington Irving.

He had a way with a

yarn did Mr Irving.

If we could journey back

to that period in history

when Manhattan was

but a market town,

we would discover,

in one of the coves

which indent the

shores of the Hudson,

the little village of Tarry Town.

And just beyond, nestled deep

in the low rolling hills,

a sequestered glen.

It's a quiet, peaceful place,

and yet, somehow... foreboding.

It abounds in haunted spots,

twilight tales and

local superstitions.

The best-known story concerns

an itinerant schoolmaster

who once frequented these parts.

Some say his melancholy spirit

still haunts the vicinity.

The pedagogue was described

as a most unusual man.

To see him striding along,

one might mistake him for a

scarecrow eloped from a cornfield.

He was tall, but exceedingly lank.

His head was small and flat on

top, with a long, snipe nose.

It looked like a weathercock

perched upon his spindle neck.

Altogether, he was an apparition

seldom to be seen in broad daylight.

Late one drowsy autumn afternoon,

this strange figure first

approached Sleepy Hollow.

As usual, there had gathered

at Ye Olde Schnooker

and Schnapps Shoppe

a group of rustic lads,

the Sleepy Hollow boys.

Their self-appointed

leader, Brom Bones,

was a burly, roistering blade, always

ready for a fight or a frolic.

Though Brom was given to madcap

pranks and practical jokes,

there was no malice

in his mischief.

With his waggish humour

and prodigious strength,

Brom Bones was quite the

hero, all the country round.

Odds bodkins! Gadzooks!

Look at that old spook of spooks.

Who's that coming down the street?

Are they shovels or are they feet?

Lean and lanky

Skin and bone

With clothes a scarecrow

would hate to own

Yet, he has a certain air

Debonair and devil-may-care

It's the new schoolmaster

What's his name?

Ichabod

Ichabod Crane

What a name!

Kind of odd

But nice just the same

Funny pan, funny frame

Ichabod may be quaint

May be odd, and maybe he ain't

Anyway, there's no complaint

From Ichabod, Ichabod Crane...

Though the arrival of the pedagogue

gave rise to mixed emotions,

the townspeople all agreed

they'd never seen anyone...

Like Ichabod, Ichabod Crane

The schoolroom became

Ichabod's empire,

over which, with lordly

dignity, he held absolute sway.

Truth to say, Ichabod was

a conscientious man,

and ever bore in mind the maxim

spare the rod and spoil the child.

Still, he was careful

to administer justice

with discrimination.

For it behoved him to keep on

good terms with his pupils.

Especially if their mothers

happened to be good cooks.

Who's the town's ladies' man?

Gets around like nobody can

Has to be none other than...

As time went by, it may be

seen that the pedagogue

got on tolerably enough.

Moreover, Ichabod found ways

to increase his slender income

and, at the same time,

awaken the cultural interests

of the sleepy little village.

It was inevitable that

a man like Ichabod

would become an object of ridicule

to Brom Bones and his gang.

Yet, to Ichabod, these

were small matters.

He possessed a

remarkable equanimity

which remained quite

undisturbed until

that fateful day, when his

path was crossed by a woman.

A certain woman.

Katrina Van Tassel, only

child of Baltus Van Tassel,

the richest farmer in the county.

She was a blooming lass,

plump as a partridge.

Ripe, melting and rosy-cheeked.

Once you have met that

little coquette Katrina

You won't forget Katrina

But nobody yet has

ever upset Katrina

That cute coquette Katrina

You can do more with

Margaret or Helena

Or Anne or Angelina

But Katrina will kiss and run

To her, a romance is fun

With always another one to start

And yet when you've met that

little coquette Katrina

You've lost your heart

There was no doubt the fair Katrina

was the richest prize

in the countryside.

The schoolmaster, being

an ambitious man,

began to fill his mind

with many sugared thoughts

and hopeful suppositions.

Katrina, my love.

Who can resist your grace?

Your charm?

And who can resist

your father's farm?

Boy, what a set-up!

There's gold in them

acres, and that ain't hay.

Not to mention that

lovely green stuff.

Katrina, my sweet. My treasure.

Treasure...

That barn's a gold mine.

How I'd love to hit the jackpot.

Dear Katrina. Papa's only child.

Papa!

The old goat can't

take it with him.

When he cuts out,

that's where I cut in.

Sweet Katrina, poor

little rich girl.

But don't worry, Katie,

Ichabod will protect you.

Yes, Katrina, you've won me.

I surrender.

And yet when you've met that

little coquette Katrina

You've lost your heart

Every portal to Katrina's

heart was jealously guarded

by a host of rustic admirers.

But Ichabod was confident

he'd soon ride roughshod

over these simple country bumpkins.

But the most formidable obstacle

he had failed to reckon with.

That was the redoubtable

Brom Bones.

The ease with which Brom

cleared the field of rivals

both piqued and provoked

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