in the neighboring river. Benches were built along the
sides for summer use; and a great spinning-wheel at one end, and a
churn at the other, showed the various uses to which this important
porch might be devoted. From this piazza the wondering Ichabod
entered the hall, which formed the centre of the mansion and the
place of usual residence. Here, rows of resplendent pewter, ranged
on a long dresser, dazzled his eyes. In one corner stood a huge bag
of wool ready to be spun; in another a quantity of linsey-woolsey
just from the loom; ears of Indian corn, and strings of dried apples
and peaches, hung in gay festoons along the walls, mingled with the
gaud of red peppers; and a door left ajar gave him a peep into the
best parlor, where the claw-footed chairs and dark mahogany tables
shone like mirrors; and irons, with their accompanying shovel and
tongs, glistened from their covert of asparagus tops; mock-oranges
and conch-shells decorated the mantelpiece; strings of various
colored birds' eggs were suspended above it; a great ostrich egg was
hung from the centre of the room, and a corner cupboard, knowingly
left open, displayed immense treasures of old silver and well-mended
china."

It is an abrupt transition from these homely scenes, which humor commends
to our liking, to the chivalrous pageant unrolled for us in the "Conquest
of Granada." The former are more characteristic and the more enduring of
Irving's writings, but as a literary artist his genius lent itself just
as readily to oriental and medieval romance as to the Knickerbocker
legend; and there is no doubt that the delicate perception he had of
chivalric achievements gave a refined tone to his mock heroics, which
greatly heightened their effect. It may almost be claimed that Irving
did for Granada and the Alhambra what he did, in a totally different way,
for New York and its vicinity.

The first passage I take from the "Conquest" is the description of the
advent at Cordova of the Lord Scales, Earl of Rivers, who was brother of
the queen of Henry VII, a soldier who had fought at Bosworth field, and
now volunteered to aid Ferdinand and Isabella in the extermination of the
Saracens. The description is put into the mouth of Fray Antonio
Agapidda, a fictitious chronicler invented by Irving, an unfortunate
intervention which gives to the whole book an air of unveracity: