Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 370 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 370: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page from "Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil" This is a page of running prose (page 350) from a Victorian penny dreadful serial. The passage depicts a chaotic military scene where oxen pulling an artillery gun have panicked and collapsed in a creek, halting the column. As soldiers struggle to move the animals, a wounded man recognizes the lead ox as "Old Ball" and begins shouting military commands at it—"Attention, Company Ball! Fall into line!"—as if rallying troops. The text employs dialect heavily and builds toward the remarkable moment when the exhausted bull appears to respond to these commands, its sides heaving as if preparing to obey.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
350 Tom ANDERSON, DarRE-DEVIL Then a strident voice overrode the rest. “Harrison’s Artillery gwine ter lose ernuther gun!” Troupe knew what this meant. Had not Harrison’s Artillery lost four pieces in the fight? “Git ’°em up, boys!” “T’ar the hide off’n ’em, gentle-men!” “Gimme er hick’ry!” “Cornwallis 1s a-comin’!”’ Troupe could stand no more, he sat up, dizzily. The creek was a scene of pandemonium. The six oxen drawing one of the biggest guns had rushed into the creek with it. Blown, hot, terrified, they had lain down in the water; and nothing could move the great beasts. Troopers pounded them with the flat of their swords; teamsters laid on with their ox-goads; scores of men, stand- ing waist-deep in the creek, tried to force the wheels for- ward. “Ts it Cornwallis?”? quavered a wounded boy from the bottom of the wagon. “Hit’s that thar bull! The ole bull’s done laid down wid the artil’ry!’”’ wailed a bearded man. He was a gunner in Harrison’s Artillery. The first wounded man in the wagon dragged himself up a bit. He stared at the mob in the creek. “Great heavens! It’s Old Ball! And strong with passion — with the might of nervous excitement — the bloody soldier trumpeted, — “ Attention!” me sweating, swearing, moiling crew in the creek were STULL. “ Attention, Company Ball!” The lead ox in the team chanced to be a tremendous bull. He lifted his huge head. The bovine eyes rolled uneasily. Hark! ‘he trumpet voice again; and yes! a sword wav- ing above the heap in the wagon. “Company Ball! Fall into line!” The bull’s bloody sides heaved. Fix bayonets!” EONMMICOOOKS.€©