Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 84 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 84: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Analysis This is running prose from Chapter IX of a Victorian penny dreadful. The chapter, titled "The Committee of Public Safety," depicts Tom coming downstairs with news that a Colonel and "madam" (apparently guests) are recovering from illness. Tom and his sister are instructed to shield their grandmother from any distressing news. The passage then describes ten days during which the young people grow attached to their "distinguished guest," who entertains them by singing London songs, teaching chess, and sharing a new Scottish ballad he claims was written by someone he knows—though he won't name the author lest it spoil the song.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
CHAPTER IX THE COMMITTEE OF PUBLIC SAFETY Tom came downstairs whistling. “Oh, here you are, Lady Pantoufle! And what d’ you think? Pratt says the Colonel will be sound as a roach in a fortnight; and that madam will be about in less time — if nothing occurs to excite or distress her. So mind you, if the carriage horses get colic, or Big Busher sets the barn on fire, or lightning strikes anybody — don’t let grandmother know it. See to it that nobody runs to her with anything, sis. Pratt S orders!” “But when grandmother is strong enough to hear — “She shall hear! Everything. And when it’s Lone and-saddles’ with him, I’ll see that he gets away safely. I’ve a plan— No, wait till the time comes. Blabbing broke up Eden!” There ensued ten days that were an era in two young lives. Each day augmented the sympathy and respect they felt for their distinguished guest. They were resolved to defend him to the bitter end. They felt as if he belonged to them. “And so I do, ” he said one day, when something like this came up. “Whenever I forget that — I hope my Lord Cornwallis will cut my buttons off!” He sang all the fashionable London songs; made capital sketches; fenced, danced, boxed, and was a linguist. He taught Tom to play chess — whereby hangs the mischief of a tale! — and Dare to sing the latest hit from “The Beggar’s Opera,” and a brand-new Scotch ballad, “Loudon’s Bonny Banks and Braes,’’ which was written, the young fellow remarked, “by a very distinguished man. I’ve the honor to know him, but if I should mention the author’s name, you would not like the song any more.” Gomicbooks. Go m