Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 35 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 35: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Analysis This is a page of running prose from Chapter III ("A Counselor") of what appears to be a Victorian-era serialized novel. The text depicts a tense nighttime confrontation at Ishmael's cabin, where Tom arrives to find a man named Egger already present and angry. The dialogue, rendered in heavy dialect, involves threats and discussion of livestock and discipline; Egger appears to be Ishmael's overseer or employer, while Tom defends his father's enslaved servants from mistreatment. The scene combines melodramatic tension (shadow of a clenched fist) with period vernacular speech suggesting an American Southern setting, though the work's exact origin and title remain unclear from this page alone.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
CHAPTER III A COUNSELOR {9 “GwWINETER git even wid ye, — ye black dog Tom overheard these words, as he neared Ishmael’s cabin. [The door swung open. Bold firelight streamed out of doors; and the shadow of a man was projected along the ground. The speaker held his tongue at the sound of foot- steps. [There was silence. But the shadow there on the ground shook a great fist. Tom sprang into the door, jostling Egger. He gave a husky laugh. “Hellof You roun’ here this time o' night? Gwine on ten o'clock, hain’t it?” “My business is with Ishmael.” | “Well,” with a show of jocularity, “got some business wid him merse’f. Come ter cuss him out *bout that thar bunch er shoats whut hain’t nuver been marked yit. Got yer paw’s intrusts ter look atter, me merse’f.”’ No answer. Ishmael hastily set out his only chair for Tom. It was an old white-oak chair bottomed with cow- skin. Egger stared fiercely, uneasy lest he had been over- heard, “sweating under the collar,’ because certain plans of his seemed in sudden jeopardy. Ish fumbled around, murmuring, “Musser drapt dat lump er wax thoo de crack. Cyarn’ keep no wax ter save my hide.” “Ef shoemaker’s wax ’ood save er nigger’s hide, oughter keep hit handy. More’n one uv ye sp’ilin’ fer de cow- hide,” growled Egger. Tom flushed to the roots of his hair. “T’d like to see anybody lay a finger on one of my father’s servants without his orders.”’ “Don’t kick afore ye air spurred, Tom.” Egger was getting offensively familiar these days. “Ain’t a man in Albemarle got no mo’ on his shoulders ’en me. Major off GomiGcsoo <S (¢(©) m