What a peculiar place to put poor 'ole Rip, on an elbow turn with a swail and no burm to keep the auto from a tumblin' if it's iced.
Rip Van Winkles Awakening is just darn adorable and kinda creepy at the same frame, no matter the angle and I absorbed every one. My Dutch bretherin hit the nips of wicked flaggon a bit too zestfully, as returning to dame Van Winkle mustn't be a desirable situation. And just then an old fellow with hip high galligasketts and a keg upon his shoulder began to call his name and poor 'ole hen pecked Rip compiled only to awaken two generations later.
With Wolf, his domestic adherent and partner in lazy days in the wood not answering Rips call and his fowling piece rusted and a worm infested stock - the good natured Rip Van Winkle now remains, once again, still and permanent in time-- looking over the Hudson Valley in the Catskills, (a disjointed member of the nighty Adarondiacs) and here he shall remain. read more