Rip. I say—vhere do I live?
Gustave. Don't you know?
Rip. I'm stewed fun I does. But, young man, you seems to know somezing, so, perhaps you knows Rip Van Winkle?
Gustave. Young Rip Van Winkle—I should think I do.
Rip. [Aside.] Here is von vhat knows me! dat is goot!
Gustave. I only wish his father hadn't gone away and died, twenty years ago.
Rip. [Aside.] His fader! Ah! he means my young Rip, and I'm dead myself arter all—dat is a fact.
Gustave. Poor old Rip Van Winkle—perhaps you know his daughter?
Rip. His daughter—yes, I tink I—and she is not dead, like her fader?
Gustave. No, thank heaven! and she would have been my wife before this but for—