Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 42 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 42: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Analysis This is running prose from page 26 of *Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil*, a Victorian penny dreadful. The text depicts a tense nocturnal conversation between characters named Tom, Ishmael, and Billy (described as "the Fool"). Billy mentions a man sleeping in the Old Graveyard and speaks of freeing someone called "Big Busher," while threatening to harm a character named Egger. Billy then departs singing a bawdy song about marriage and dancing. The passage uses heavily dialectal speech (likely representing African American vernacular of the period) and concludes with Ishmael warning Tom that something is wrong, referencing Egger's knowledge of recent events.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
26 Tom ANDERSON, DareE-DEVIL ““Dee’s a man sleeps up dar,” the Fool broke out. Ishmael exchanged a look of curiosity with Tom, and turned rebuking eyes on Billy. “Up whar?”’ “Up ter de Ole Graveyard — in de long grass —” “Dat boy mek mer ve’y flesh crawl. Here, now, — ‘long! ‘Time all idjits wuz in bed.” “Smart folks sleeps at night. Idjits runs all night. Dat’s de onlies’ way dee kin ketch up wid ter’s,” the un- canny creature leered. “Gwine down’t de tann’ry en’ tunn out Big Busher!”’ “Look here, boy! Ef you raises er rookus on dishyer plantation —”’ “Gwine under de flo’. Lif? me up a plank. Lak Unc’ Ish,” pointing to Ishmael’s secret cellar. Ishmael made a threatening pass at the ogre. “Why do you want to let out Busher?” said Tom abruptly. ‘Ter devil Egger!” fiercely. “Marse ‘Tom, some dese days I wants yer ter cut de blood out’n Egger!” Ishmael dropped down on his stool, and stared darkly. Billy was gone. Considering the disproportion between base and superstructure, he could be wonderfully light of foot. His thin fifelike voice came back through the night, “Ef ever you gits mar-ri-ed, be sho ter lemme know: Fer I’m des de bes’ fiddle-er dat ever draw’d er bow: En’ I’m des de bes’ dancer, O! — dat ever tripped er toe. Sing, Blow ye winds of morn-i-ing:— Blow, Blue! Blow! Sing, Blow ye winds of morn-i-ing:— Blow, Blue! Blow!” Tom rose to go. Ish remarked: “Gwine piece de way wid yer, lil’ Marse. Don’ want ter resk no eavesdrappers.”’ ‘“Nothing amiss, is there, Ishr”’ Quite away from ever-curious walls, the negro paused. Then, soberly enough to confirm the boy’s vague misgiv- ings, he answered: “Dee 2s sump’n wrong, Marse Tom. You hyurd Egger r’arrin’ ter-night? He knowed yer did. So, he tries ter mek out I been slack *bout mer wuk. ECOMMICOOOKS,(e©