t mythology, the god of the lower world.

Pandora is described in the Greek legends as the first created woman. She
was sent by Jupiter to Epimetheus as a punishment, because the latter's
brother, Prometheus, had stolen fire from heaven. When she arrived among
men, she opened a box in which were all the evils of mankind, and
everything escaped except Hope.

LXIII. RIP VAN WINKLE. (242)

The appearance of Rip, with his long, grizzled beard, his rusty fowling
piece, his uncouth dress, and an army of women and children at his heels,
soon attracted the attention of the tavern politicians. They crowded
around him, eying him from head to foot with great curiosity. The orator
bustled up to him, and, drawing him partly aside, inquired on which side
he voted. Rip stared in vacant stupidity. Another short but busy little
fellow pulled him by the arm, and, rising on tiptoe, inquired in his ear
"whether he was Federal or Democrat."

Rip was equally at a loss to comprehend the question; when a knowing,
self-important old gentleman, in a sharp cocked hat, made his way through
the crowd, putting them to the right and left with his elbows as he
passed, and planting himself before Van Winkle, with one arm akimbo, the
other resting on his cane, his keen eyes and sharp hat, penetrating, as it
were, into his very soul, demanded, in an austere tone, what brought him
to the election with a gun on his shoulder, and a mob at his heels, and
whether he meant to breed a riot in the village.

"Alas! gentlemen," cried Rip, somewhat dismayed, "I am a poor, quiet man,
a native of the place, and a loyal subject of the king, God bless him!"
Here a general shout burst from the bystanders.--"A tory! a tory! a spy! a
refugee! hustle him! away with him!" It was with great difficulty that the
self-important man in the cocked hat restored order; and, having a tenfold
austerity of brow, demanded again of the unknown culprit, what he came
there for, and whom he was seeking. The poor man humbly assured him that
he meant no harm, but merely came there in search of some of his
neighbors, who used to keep about the tavern. "Well, who are they? name
them."

Rip bethought himself a moment, and inquired, "Where's Nicholas Vedder?"
There was a silence for a little while, when an old man replied, in a
thin, piping voice, "Nicholas Vedder! why he is dead and gone these
eighteen years! There was a wooden tombstone in the churchyard that used
to tell all about h