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Ichabod was as proud of his dancing as he was of his singing . His long arms and legs flew round the room . Every bone in him seemed to dance on its own . And how could he not be happy ? Katrina was his partner , and she smiled sweetly at all his loving looks . Brom Bones , sick with love and jealousy , sat alone in a corner . When the dance ended , Ichabod joined a group of older men on the porch . They sat with old Van Tassel , smoking and telling long stories about the war . The line between the British and the American armies once ran near this place . Enough years had passed for each storyteller to improve his tale a little . And because his memory was not very clear , he always made himself the hero . There was Doffue Martling , a big Dutchman with a blue - black beard . He nearly captured a British warship with an old iron cannon . Unfortunately , his cannon burst after the sixth shot . Then there was an old gentleman whose name I cannot give , because he is too rich . In one battle he stopped a bullet with his small sword . He felt it whistle round the blade and fly off . He often showed the sword to prove it . The handle was still a little bent . Every one of these men believed that the war ended well mostly because of him . VII . Stories in the Dark But all these were nothing compared to the ghost stories that followed . In most of our villages , people come and go all the time . When a ghost wakes up in his grave , his friends have already moved away . He goes out at night and finds nobody he knows . That is perhaps why we hear about ghosts so rarely , except in the old Dutch villages . Several people from Sleepy Hollow were at the party . As usual , they told their wild tales . They spoke of sad cries near Major André’s tree . André was a British officer , and the Americans caught him there during the war . They spoke of the woman in white at Raven Rock . She died there in the snow . On winter nights before a storm , you can hear her scream . But most of the stories were about the Headless Horseman . People said he was riding round the country again . They said he tied his horse every night among the graves in the churchyard . This church stands alone on a little hill among tall trees . In its quiet , sunny churchyard , the dead should surely rest in peace . Not far from the church , a wooden bridge crossed a deep black stream in those days . Tall trees hung over the road and the bridge . It was dark there even in the daytime , and at night it was terribly black . This was one of the Horseman’s favourite places .
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