Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 39 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 39: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Analysis This is a page of running prose text from Chapter 23 titled "A Counselor." The text appears to be dialect narrative—likely a character recounting a story in heavily phonetic Southern American English. The passage describes a poor white boy named Peake who, lacking family and resources, grows up to become an eccentric figure known for drilling a blue bull like a military recruit, using commands from military manuals ("Steuben and Duane"). The narrator humorously details how Peake eventually asks a Major (Audley) for permission to drill the militia using similar methods. The writing style is characteristic of nineteenth-century popular fiction employing exaggerated dialect for comic effect.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
A COUNSELOR 23 coat! Yasser! Dis de way uv it. Peake, he a mighty po’ ‘n’ frien’less whi’ boy. Bread en’ meat wuz skyurce over at ole man Pore’s — dee did tell it dat dem Pores slopped dee houn’-dogs on sasspus-tea! Well, anyhow; Peake wan raised ter no was’e /— en’ nuver had no folks. Come ‘long de road one evenin’, stopped at de cow-pen ter rope off de calf fer Molly Pore, en’ fum dat on de houn’s had ter ‘vide up dat sasspus-tea wid Peake! Yit, he grow’d up mighty pyurt en’ uppity. Muster-days he’d come a-rackin’ in on er little scruple-tail, hide-boun’ blue bull he’d done bruk ter de plough. De yullin’, he’d be mad ’noughter bust. Peake, he’d be sassy en’ sociable. No drill— no muster- day d git by dem two. Dee’d be dar! He’d watch de Major — dat boy would —en’ talk ’bout de “mernew- vers’ tell it look lak he lived ter drill. Den, fus’ thing we-all knowed, Peake wuz drillin’ de bull!” ‘—om’s laugh was good to hear. “It de troof, Marse Tom! He give dat yullin’ de mostes en’ de wustes drillin’ ever you hyurd uv. Stidder ‘Gee’ en’ ‘Haw,’ he’d plough him lak dis: ‘ Atten- tion! Comp’ny Ball!’ Stidder ‘Whoa,’ it wuz ‘Groun’- arms.’ En’ when de dinner-horn blow’d, it wuz ‘Stack Arms.’ Week in en’ week out, he’d drill dat little pot-bellied brute beas’ scan’lous! Uver day en’ Sunday too, wuz muster- day ter dat yullin’. Major, he’d ax him, ‘Well, Peake? How’s Sergeant Ball comin’ on?’ Sometimes de bull wuz de sergeant, den, ’gin, he’d hatter be de whole comp’ny. Peake he’d speak up, “Mayor, I have ter ’pote, sir, dat at fus’ he nuver showed no mil’tary spirit, skyurcely. but I’m drillin’ him, sir, strickly ’cordin’ ter “Steuben and Duane.” Nuver uses no plough-line. Jes’ “Steuben and Duane,” en’ er good hick’ry!’ Naix muster-day roll roun’, Marse Audley jes’ gittin’ ‘bout fum de yaller janders. Ainh able ter drill de m’litia. Well, sir! Peake had de inshoance ter ax de Major ter let h2m drill *em! More’n dat he says, ‘Major, de men won’t putt no pennunce in me, less’n [ hez er sode.’ Marse Audley never show no mo’ s’prise ’en ef he’s settin’ up in ‘King Cyarter’s’ chu’ch, listenin’ ter de preacher rumblin’ *bout Jedgement CORNICLIOO ‘Ss (EO) mn