Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 248 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 248: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Content Description This is a page of running prose from a Victorian penny dreadful titled "Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil" (page 230). The text consists of dialogue and narrative describing a confrontation between characters named Deveaux and Williamson. Deveaux recounts to General McIntosh and others how he encountered Williamson—described as a "renegade" who accepted British protection—at a pie-shop uptown. The passage details Williamson's insulting behavior toward Deveaux, culminating in Deveaux throwing an oyster-shell at Williamson's face. The narrative appears set during or after a conflict involving "Rebs" (Confederates) and "Hungry Hall," suggesting American Civil War-era subject matter, though the penny dreadful's historical accuracy is unclear.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
230 Tom ANDERSON, DaARE-DEVIL Deveaux clattered in: “Where did you get “em? Delicate question in ‘Hungry Hall,’ but — where?” “Met an old black mammy out by Governor’s Bridge. Thought I looked like her ‘young maussa’ on the prison- ship; and so the faithful soul emptied her basket in my pockets. God bless her!” “Talking of faithful souls, saw Williamson to-day.” Williamson was one of their number who had accepted British protection at the capitulation, and battened on it. A gray head was raised abruptly, and General McIntosh looked at Deveaux — McIntosh, then nearly seventy, was a man of magnificent physique—with a stern face. “Williamson? the renegade? The Lord reward him accord- ing to his works.” “Big old Scotchman came mighty near rewarding him according to his works to-day — and that’s about as bad! Eh, General?” grinning. McIntosh smiled grimly. Deveaux stood high in his esteem. The rest put in: “Go it, Deveaux! Tell us about it!” “Oh, I popped my head in the pie-shop uptown — more to smell of the good things than anything else — good victuals are not for starving Rebs, you know; but Lord! such a fumette as there was from the broiled partridges and roasted mallards! It made me fairly weak in the knees, boys. Well, there sat Williamson! Filling himself with chine-and-dumplings, bubble-and-squeak, and roast beef. I affected not to see him. Bought a stale and withered brickbat of gingerbread, flouted by all but the flies. Costly thy rations as thy purse can buy, you know. Williamson was watching me. He calls out: ‘Sit down, Major. Come and dine with me!’ I turned my back on him. Which so angered him he bawled out, — drawing the attention of the shop, — ‘If that Rebel from Hungry Hall will come here, I’ll balance a bit of bread on his nose: “One. Two. Three!” he may catch it if he’s lucky; ’t will stay his hol- low belly!’ With that I picked up:an oyster-shell and hurled it in his face —”’ ECONMMICOOOKSn(e@) m