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The Wasp, 1913 · page 215 of 364

The Wasp — 1913 — page 215: what you’re looking at

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The Wasp — 1913 — page 215: The Wasp, 1913

What you’re looking at

This appears to be an excerpt from a serialized story rather than a political cartoon. The text depicts a confrontation between Captain Trimmer and Slim Sam (his first mate) aboard a ship. The passage shows Trimmer's tyrannical nature: he draws pistols when challenged, demands absolute obedience, and reminds his crew of past favors (freeing them "from death on the plantations," providing gold). His rage at being questioned about his authority suggests the satirical point: **a critique of arbitrary, despotic leadership that uses past generosity as justification for unchecked power**. The "rules" being debated appear significant but aren't fully clarified in this excerpt. Without seeing illustrations or knowing the publication date, the specific historical or political target remains unclear—though the plantation reference suggests antebellum or post-Civil War American themes.

📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)

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

anne 210 THE WASP prelate, glanced toward the sullen company and turned pale with apprehension. Trimmer ceased his laughter and began to glare. A volley of astounding oaths burst from him. He drew a brace of pistols from the pockets of his flowered silk coat. His mood, too, had become dangerous. Slim Sam, rustily garbed and apparently un- armed, approached him with a conciliating smile on his narrow face and a humble stoop to his thin shoulders. He whispered a few words. Trimmer listened, still-glaring. The first mate whispered again, this time at considerable length. Captain Trimmer snorted ; he gnawed his lip; he swore. “What is this?” he cried suddenly. ‘Am I not : your captain? Is it not in my power to break rules as well as to make them? Put her ashore, d’ye say? Who won ye free from death on the plantations? Who put gold into yer dirty pockets for ye? Tell me that!” His square, coarse face was convulsed with rage. Rage gripped his throat until his voice stuck in it Comichooks.com