On one of those long rainy days that always render the country so dull
I had climbed to the loft of the barn, and lying upon the hay was
reading that delightful book "The Life and Letters of Washington
Irving." I had gotten well into the volume, and was much interested
in it, when to my surprise I came upon a passage which said that he
had seen me at Laura Keene's theater as Goldfinch in Holcroft's comedy
of "The Road to Ruin," and that I reminded him of my father "in look,
gesture, size, and make." Till then I was not aware that he had ever
seen me. I was comparatively obscure, and to find myself remembered
and written of by such a man gave me a thrill of pleasure I can never
forget. I put down the book, and lay there thinking how proud I was,
and ought to be, at the revelation of this compliment. What an
incentive to a youngster like me to go on.

And so I thought to myself, "Washington Irving, the author of 'The
Sketch-Book,' in which is the quaint story of Rip Van Winkle." Rip
Van Winkle! There was to me magic in the sound of the name as I
repeated it. Why, was not this the very character I wanted? An Ameri
can story by an American author was surely just the theme suited to an
American actor.

In ten minutes I had gone to the house and returned to the barn with
"The Sketch-Book." I had not read the story since I was a boy. I was
disappointed with it; not as a story, of course, but the tale was
purely a narrative. The theme was interesting, but not dramatic. The
silver Hudson stretches out before you as you read, the quaint red
roofs and queer gables of the old Dutch cottages stand out against the
mist upon the mountains; but all this is descriptive. The character
of Rip does not speak ten lines. What could be done dramatically with
so simple a sketch? How could it he turned into an effective play?