ComicBooks.com Register / Loginit's free!

Pulp Fiction, 1861 · page 106 of 228

Beadle's Dime Novels No. 33: Maum Guinea and Her Plantation Children — page 106: what you’re looking at

📖 Open the full issue in the page-flip reader →
Beadle's Dime Novels No. 33: Maum Guinea and Her Plantation Children — page 106: Pulp Fiction, 1861

A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1861. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.

📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

sleep a-nights, nor men lay down der guns, till Prophet Nat was found. “Tg,eome-into my mind. to carry. him food, and I made a pocket in my dress, and put in bread and ’taters, and went . a-wanderin’ roun’ night and day, purtendin’ I was getting yerbs and fire-wood. Dar was lots of white folks, ebery whar keeping watch, all de time, on ebery road, and in de woods. Once I. heard a whisper, just a short piece off—it was day- time, den, and de whisper called me— Sophy !’ and I looked sharp and saw a man’s face, peering out of de ground, as it were, and I see in a minit it was Nat Turner’s, and I answered him low-like—purtending to pick up sticks! ’W’at is it, Nat? Isee ye—can I help you any?’ And he answers back—‘* Come to-night, and bring me food—I'm starving—don’t speak now, pass on.’ So dat night, I went ag’in, berry cautious, and I tound him, whar he’d dug a hole beside a log, and crawled in, and hid de place wid leaves and bushes, and I gib him suthin to eat, and told him what had happened to Nelson, and all de news I could—and he tol’ me if I eyer see his wife, to tell her ’bout him; and I darsn’t stay but.a minit, for de woods was full of men; night and day. In dis way, I brought him food two, tree weeks; once I went, and he was gone. Nex’ day L heard, he’d been taken, and was in prison. Den we was told he had been seen, and driven out, but had escaped. Ten days later, dey rea’ly cotched him, and den I knew "twas all up wid him. De mob tried to-kill him on de way to jail ; but he had his trial and was hung. _“ When he was hung and dead, dar was rejoicing in de land. .De white folks breafed free ag’in. He died like a man—Oh, he was.a prophet, sure ‘nuff, Nat Turner was; but he couldn’ overcome dis yere wicked worl’—de time wasn’t si Tempahinase his wife, arter he wa’ dead. . She'd been conmmicioomlks.conn | {