Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 97 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 97: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Analysis This is a page of running prose from a Victorian penny dreadful titled "A Birthday Party" (page 81). The text depicts a dramatic scene in which a lightning flash frightens servants in an old schoolroom, and a mysterious tall woman emerges from the shadows claiming to be "the mistress of this house." A character named Pat attempts to defuse the tension by quoting from something called the "Official Correspondence," while other characters interrupt rudely—one throwing an apple core from the rafters. An Englishman then steps forward to introduce himself to the woman. The narrative emphasizes melodrama, provincial dialect speech, and supernatural tension characteristic of the genre.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
A BrirtTupay Party SI As the last words trembled on Dare’s lips, a terrific flash of lightning kindled the old room. The black screamed — and threw her apron over her head. “Er ghost! I seed it!” Springing to his feet, Tom called out Seriously: ““Who’s there?” The candles were flickering in a sudden draft. The door of the schoolroom must be open! Beyond the huddle of looms and wheels, darkness. He saw no one. There was a moment of tremendous agitation. Somebody advanced out of the shadow. A voice — unsteady with passion — ““No ghost. The mistress of this house.’”? She came into the firelight, her tall figure enveloped in a white India shawl that hid her black dress. Her face was bloodless. Rebuking eyes blazed on the group. She confronted the Englishman haughtily. “May I ask who this is?” Tense silence. Confused and tremendously excited by the serious situa- tion, Pat bethought him of the “Official Correspondence.” Surely, in a moment so critical — ‘an’ divvle a wan av us a-foindin’ av his tongue” — the eloquent and command- ing expressions of Count D’Estaing might be worthily em- ployed. They must befit. The thump of the peg-leg broke the complete silane, Pat approached, earnestness of purpose in every line of him, and addressed Mrs. Anderson deferentially. ‘“**It is wid regret that we yield ter the aus-th-terity av our functions; and we deplore the fate av thim that will fall victims ter the delusions which appears ter pervade yez mind—’”’ Three voices interrupted this quotation from the “Of- fishil Corres-th-pondence.”’ “Go ter the divvle wid yez!” said a hollow voice, and Don Miguel threw down an apple core from the rafters. At the same instant the Englishman stepped forward, drew his heels together, and made an obeisance. “Madam, permit me to introduce myself — CORnNIE OO “eS (C©) im