The Wasp, 1913 · page 331 of 364
The Wasp — 1913 — page 331: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This appears to be a serialized fictional narrative rather than a political cartoon. The text describes a morality tale about Percy Stanton, a drunk man leaving a pub ("the Spotted Dog") at 2 AM, who resents his wife Kitty and threatens domestic violence with a leather belt. The passage then shifts to introduce what appears to be a setup for criminal action: two con artists or criminals at the corner of Hound Alley and Little Spanish Street. One poses as a cripple with golden guineas (wealth), while another pretends to be injured, renting crutches from the first man. This suggests they're setting a trap—likely to rob or assault the intoxicated Stanton. The satire appears to target working-class moral failings: drunkenness, domestic abuse, and petty crime in Victorian-era urban streets. Without seeing illustrations or knowing *The Wasp's* specific editorial stance, the exact satirical point remains unclear, though it seems to depict vice and criminality as interconnected social problems among the lower classes.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
324 THE WASP He reached his lodgings without accident. A church clock chimed eleven as he unlocked his door. Percy Stanton reeled out of the Spotted Dog at exactly two hours after midnight. He was in his usual condition, and, finding the flagged footpath too narrow for him, made frequent excursions into the cobbled gutter. Here was a pretty state of affairs for a man of his parts, he reflected—and all because he had been fool enough to let Kitty trick him into marrying her. ‘She was a sly little puss, she was! He cursed thickly at the thought and vowed he’d make the skin jump on her shoulders when he got home. The supple-jack had gone, ’tis true; but he had a leather belt that would serve his purpose. The corner of Hound Alley and Little Spanish Street was very dark. In a black doorway sat an ancient cripple. In one hand he grasped two golden guineas—undreamed-of wealth. He grinned and listened—and waited. In the gutter waited another ragged and crooked fellow, leaning heavily upon the crutches which he had rented for a little while fromthe cripple in the doorway. Comichooks.com