Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 43 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 43: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# A Page of Dialogue from a Victorian Penny Dreadful This is a page of running prose (page 27, titled "A Counselor") containing dramatic dialogue in heavily dialectalized speech. The conversation concerns a character named Egger attempting to bribe another character into carrying a letter to Colonel Prevost at Savannah via British lines during what appears to be the American Revolution. When the bribe is refused, Egger angrily threatens the character and accuses him of disloyalty. A third character (Tom) responds with outrage, calling Egger "a Tory" and "the traitor," while another voice counsels caution, suggesting they should "crope mighty slow." The passage depicts wartime espionage and divided loyalties.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
A COUNSELOR 27 Markin’ shoats is Dock’s business! Lord, dat whi’ man’s slick! Listen, here, son. He’s cussin’ ’kase I would n’ *gree ter cyar a letter froo de British lines — fer him!” “What!” , “It’s de Gord’s troof, Marse Tom. En’ I ainh gwine tell no lie on Gord! Egger come in, he did, mighty sosherble. Say dis be a good chance fer him ter sen’ er letter ter his brer, at Savannah. Tole him I gwineter Charleston, ter de *Merican camp. ‘De Bnitish post is whar I’m sendin’ yer, he say, flat-footed. I tries ter ’scuse merse’f. He say: “Yer ole black fox! Holdin’ out fer a bait, hongh?’ Den he say, ‘I'll gin ye two silver poun’ — none er ye Congress money! — ter tek dis letter ter Colonel Prevost, at Savannah!’ ” “Tsh!” Tom went white. ‘Den I tole him de British would putt me back in dem trenches, ‘fo’ I could find dat Colonel Prevost. Den he rips out: “Ye dam fool! Don’ ye know de British will soon be masters of de whole kentry? Ye could git ter be body- servant ter Colonel Prevost, ef ye had ez much life ez er nit! G’long en’tek dis letter—en’ stay in Savannah, when ye git ter be Colonel Prevost’s man.’ Wid dat I tole him I bleedge ter tek Black Sloven ter Marse Troupe — lak Miss Sa’ah say. Oh, he fa’rly froff at de mouf! He say: “Y’ ole black hypercrick! You blab, en’ I’ll stripe ye back ter ye!” “The traitor! The black-hearted Tory!” “Lord, Marse Tom! Don’ open yer mouf ter Miss Sa’ah! She sutt’ny would tunn off Egger ef she knowed whut er treacherous whi man she got over Oxheart. Le’ Miss Sa’ah ’lone fer dat/ But atter he done tunned off? Egger des ez leave run de las’ nigger on dis place inter de British lines! De British 1s Ais depennunce! Looks ter dem ter pertec’ him!” “So! We are to let this Tory send dispatches to the enemy, and lay his devilish plots, while we keep still!” burst forth Tom. “Listen, son! Lessen we crope mighty slow, we'll git CORDIECLOO SS (C©) im