Amerikali yazar, denemeci, biyografi yazari ve tarihci Washington Irving'in olum yildonumu (28 Kasim 1859)
"Hudson'in dogu tarafindaki sahillerini girintilerle bezeyen o genis kovuklarindan birinin merkezinde, eski Felemenk gemicilerin Tappan Denizi diye adlandirdiklari nehrin genisleyen kisminda, yelkenleri sarmaya itina gosterip gecerken, Aziz Nicholas'in kendilerini korumasi icin ona yakardiklari yerde, bazilarinin Greensburgh dedigi, ama daha dogru bir sekilde Tarrytown diye bilinen ve pazar kurulan kucuk bir kasaba ile koy limani vardir. Bize soylenene gore, pazarin kuruldugu eski gunlerde, koy meyhanesinde zaman geciren kocalarinin bu koklesmis arzularindan dolayi oraya eskiden bu adi verenler, komsu koyun iyi ev kadinlariydi. Oyle ya da boyle, ben kendi gozlerimle olayi gormedim, ama sadece kesin ve guvenilir olmak maksadiyla bunlari aktarmakla yetiniyorum. Bu koyden cok da uzakta olmayan, belki uc-dort kilometre mesafede, yuksek tepelerin arasinda, tum dunyada en sessiz sakin yerlerden biri olan, kucuk bir vadi, daha dogrusu bir dag etegi vardi. Arasindan insana huzur verecek kadar tatli bir ninni soyleyen kucuk bir irmak akip gidiyordu. Arada sirada duyulan bir bildircin isligi ya da bir agackakanin tikirtisi, tekduze dinginligi bozan yegane sesti." Bassiz Suvari
"In the bosom of one of those spacious coves which indent the eastern shore of the Hudson, at that broad expansion of the river denominated by the ancient Dutch navigators the Tappan Zee, and where they always prudently shortened sail, and implored the protection of St. Nicholas when they crossed, there lies a small market-town or rural port, which by some is called Greensburgh, but which is more generally and properly known by the name of Tarry Town. This name was given, we are told, in former days, by the good housewives of the adjacent country, from the inveterate propensity of their husbands to linger about the village tavern on market days. Be that as it may, I do not vouch for the fact, but merely advert to it, for the sake of being precise and authentic. Not far from this village, perhaps about two miles, there is a little valley, or rather lap of land, among high hills, which is one of the quietest places in the whole world. A small brook glides through it, with just murmur enough to lull one to repose; and the occasional whistle of a quail, or tapping of a woodpecker, is almost the only sound that ever breaks in upon the uniform tranquillity."


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