Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 109 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 109: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Page 93 This is running prose from the narrative interior of a penny dreadful titled "Where's Tom?" (page 93). The passage, written in heavily stylized Irish-inflected dialect, describes a scene where a Governor questions a Cherokee man named Unakerr about the whereabouts of a character named Tom. The narrator reveals that Tom has apparently gone missing while traveling with a group, and the Governor suspects Tom may have been impressed into service as a guide by escaped British prisoners from Charlottesville who are heading to New York. The text emphasizes the Governor's agitation and the mystery surrounding Tom's disappearance.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
WHERE’s Tom? 93 through, an’ sez, “Tom an’ Peachy hev always run to- gether, but Peachy sez Tom ’s dropped him. Why, he could niver discover.’ Well, I had the ans-ther ter thot riddle, too; an’ I wuz beginnin’ ter feel might-thy unaisy under the weight av my treasonable respect an’ affection fer a British officer. The Governor wuz walkin’ up an’ down now, — wid a short tether betwixt the meal-tub an’ the hang-burrud’s nist, — too ristless ter be aisy. ‘ There he is!’ sez he, —I had n’t hyurd nobody, —an’ Mr. Jifferson (quick ez a fut-boy) pulls the door open fer Unakerr. “The Chief Exexertive turns his big all-seein’ eyes on the pore savage, but Unakerr faces him, ‘chief’s son’ in ivery muscle av him. Mr. Jifferson holds out his hand, he does. “This is the son av Going Snake?’ sez he. Unakerr bows. An’ thin, why, the Governor he ups an’ spakes ter the redskin in Cherokee! Divvle a liss. A-spitthin’ it out ez aisy ez iny thavin’ horse-thrader! Yis! an’ so he axthes fer news av Tom. “Unakerr shakes his head. _ “*Yez looks ez if ye’d been ter the well-av-the-warld’s- ind,’ sez I. But the redskin would n't spake. Yit the thruth wuz, he’d followed, hot-fut, afther Misthress Grattan’s teams. The Gray Goose, yez see, overtook the loaded © wagins bedout much throuble, fer all the teams had so many hours’ start av the mare. But Tom wuz not wid thim frinds av his’n, bound fer the Capital. Divvle a wan av ’em had seen Tom. (All av this I foinds out from the Cherokee jist bechune oursilves. No wurrud av it wuz dropped thin, in the prisince av the Chief Exexertive.) He was sore disquieted. Havin’ emptied the noggins av the two av us, — or so it looked, — he makes known to us that some av the British prisoners had jist esth-caped from Charlottesville; had forged their own passports, widout throublin’ nobody, at all, at all; an’ wuz pushin’ on fer New York. He believed that Tom, bein’ sich a bright, bould b’y, might have been imprissed fer a guide troo de woods to de north av us, by these fly-by-nights. “*Yer Honor’s found the clue,’ sez I. “Thim prisoners CORNICIOO eS (C(O) im