Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 48 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 48: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Description This is a page of running prose (page 32) from the penny dreadful *Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil*. The text presents a dialogue in heavily phonetic Irish dialect between characters discussing historical correspondence between French and British military commanders during what appears to be the American Revolutionary War, specifically involving Savannah. One character recounts humorous anecdotes about overhearing letters between Count D'Estaing and Colonel Prevost, culminating in a comedic exchange where Prevost allegedly responds to a French surrender demand with "You-go-ter-hell!" The passage exemplifies the penny dreadful's characteristic blend of serialized narrative, dialect humor, and dramatic historical reference.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
32 Tom ANDERSON, Dare-DEvIL and Sehoy came in, like the “‘sailor’s wife,” “with chest- nuts in her lap,’ and they were very sociable. “Jimmie Poore wuz tellin’ me ye had let-thers from Mr. Throupe — the darlin’!— an’ phwat does he say, Tom?’ An’ is the British still rulin’ the roost at Savan- nahr”’ “The ‘American Remembrancer’ gives the correspond- ence between Prevost and the French Count. Soon as Governor Jefferson returns the paper, I’m going to bring it here, and read the ‘Official Correspondence’ to you. It makes a fellow’s blood fairly zoon to read it!” ‘““Indade, thim iligant let-thers made the bullets fairly zoon! Would n’t I rey’ice ter hear *em out av the paper. Wuz n't I right there whin them let-thers wuz flyin’ back an’ foorth? Let me tell yez, Prevost wuz not the b’y with a white liver under his red coat. Not at all, at all! If the Frinch Count did paw up the road! Phwat do I know about it? Why, ould Pat Carr skimmed the cream av the ‘Offishil Corresth-pon-dence!’ Thrue fer yez.” ‘The dickens you did?” “It’s mesilf that did, thin. Yez see, Count D’Estaing, Commander av the Frinch fleet, he’d write a bully-rag- gin’ episthle ter the Commandant av the British post, Colonel Prevost. Prevost he’d write a wuss wan back at him. Thin the Frinch Count would submit-th the Cor- resth-pon-dence ter Gineral Lincoln, yez see. So, av a mornin’ I’d go in, whativer, ter shave Gin’ral Lincoln, an’ he’d be afther readin’ his let-thers, soft an’ aisy, ter him- silf; an’ I’d pick up all my craw would hould, av coorse!” Tom’s pistol-shot laugh rang out, and Carr’s eyes twin- kled. “Well, first, Count D’Estaing writes loike this: ‘Ter Colonel Prevost, Commander-in-Chief av the Brit- ish foorces at Savannah: Sirr: I have the honor an’ glory ter demand av yez the immejit surrinder av Savannah, in the name av the King av France! Wid all the urbanity in life, Yours ter command, D’Estaing.’ Thin the Brit- ish Colonel sinds him his compliments an’ sez, — ally- gorry-killy spaykin, — ‘You-go-ter-hell!’ ‘The Frinch ECOMIEOOOKS.(6© m