Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 93 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 93: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains running prose from Chapter 77, titled "A Birthday Party." The text describes a mysterious tall young man arriving at a birthday celebration, dressed in fine claret-colored velvet finery. Characters Pat and Tom react with surprise and emotion upon recognizing him as someone they had previously helped—apparently a wounded man they had sheltered during snow and siege conditions. The passage includes dialogue in Irish and other dialects, with references to a Vigilance Committee investigation and suspicions directed at someone called Oxheart. The scene depicts a reunion among friends with undertones of danger and past conflict.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
A BirtHpay Party 77 to-night? Anyhow, she wore them; with her white sar- cenet dress, and high-heeled red slippers, too. But who was this? — this tall, lithe, straight-featured young fellow; with the wholesome laugh and high-hearted look; with the bearing of a British officer, and the blue, Etheling eye? Moreover, Dilsey had prevailed. She had brought forth from a camphor chest Troupe’s London- made finery, ordered for a certain bygone ball in Philadel- phia by the Heir of Oxheart —a certain suit of claret- colored velvet and white Canton crépe, with a tamboured waistcoat and white silk stockings. So it fell out that the guest of honor was not unsuitably attired on this birthday: he was resplendent. Pat stared and whispered : “Who is thot a-lookin’ like he’d jist lit? [hot’s a leg fera stockin’ an’ a fut fer a shoe! Now ain’t it?” Tom was exultant. “Told you you ’d never know him. Colonel, here’s Pat Carr — my good friend, and yours.” The Englishman wrung the outstretched hand. “Thrue fer yez, I’d niver ’a’ knowed him! This the dead man we hunted fer in the snow?—an’ the wounded man Pete Francisco bundled up thim caracole stairs? — By the Rock av Cashel!” “T owe my life to the best friends God ever gave a man!”’ “It’s the thruth yez spakin’, Colonel —” But Pat was interrupted. “Oh, I say, Patsy? Did you know we had the Vigilance Committee down on us last night? My conscience —!” Pat was more excited than he had been since the siege of Savannah. “It’s mesilf hyurd the huffs av ‘em on the road, about midnight. I sez ter Sehoy, sez I, ‘ Phwat the divvle?’ sez I,’ and he devoured the story. [here were serious surmises as to how suspicion had been directed to Oxheart. Pat shook his head. “An ould Whig is a honey av a patriot, but a divvle av an inimy. Now ain’t he?” “Mighty dang’ous Commiddee of Shafety, dot ish,” Ole declared disapprovingly. Dilsey had set upon the table two bottles of Spanish CORNICLIOO® SS (C©) m