As ichabod jogged symptom of along, his eye, ever open to every symptom of culinary abundance, ranged with delight over the treasures of jolly autumn. On all sides he beheld vast stores of apples, some hanging in for the market, others heaped up in rich piles for the cider press. Farther on he beheld great fields of Indian corn with its golden ears peeping from their leafy coverts, and holding out the promise of cakes and hasty pudding, and the yellow pumpkins lying beneath them, turning up their fair round bellies to the sun, and giving ample prospects of the most luxurious of pies. Anon he passed the fragrant buckwheat fields, and as he beheld them soft anticipations stole over his mind of dainty slapjacks, buttered, and well garnished with honey or treacle, by the delicate little dimpled hand of Katrina van Tassel. (Washington irvine