The Wasp, 1913 · page 222 of 364
The Wasp — 1913 — page 222: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is **not a cartoon page**, but rather prose fiction—likely an excerpt from a serialized story in *The Wasp* magazine. The passage depicts Captain Nash defending a stranger's identity as James Burnham, son of Sir Walter Burnham. Nash establishes credibility through specific details: he witnessed identifying marks on the man's back (a family custom of Sir Walter's, who marks his children "as he marks his silver"), and notes the stranger's physical resemblance to the questioner (apparently another Burnham son). The exchange concerns **identity verification and legitimacy**—whether this ill man is genuinely a Burnham heir or an impostor. Captain Nash's insistence on physical evidence and family knowledge suggests themes of inheritance, class status, and proof of legitimacy that would resonate with *The Wasp*'s Victorian readership. The conversation's dramatic tension indicates a plot centered on disputed identity or inheritance claims.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
THE WASP Q17 and arrived at that port. I heard it from my father, sir. There can be no mistake about that. \ Did this —this gentleman—tell you he was James Burnham, a son of Sir Walter Burnham?” “He did,” replied Captain Nash, with more com- posure than he had yet displayed. ‘‘He did, sir; but I was aware of his father’s name before he told me anything about himself. He was ill—he came to us ill, yet as a hero—and Willis and I saw his back when we were getting him into bed. I had heard of your worthy father’s whim for marking his children even as he marks his silver, and so I knew the stranger for a Burnham of Burnham at a glance. True, an impostor might have his shoulder marked so for the very purpose of imposing on people; but our friend James is of your height, of your weight and size, I swear; and as like you in face, save for the color of his eyes, as one round shot is like an- other. You are pale, sir! JI did not mean to ad- minister a shock, sir, upon my soul! I’m a blunder- ing old fool. Take my arm, lad.. Come to the open air.” Comicbooks.com