The Wasp, 1918 · page 274 of 330
The Wasp — 1918 — page 274: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page appears to be from a serialized fictional narrative rather than a political cartoon or satire. It reads as prose fiction set in a maritime/pirate context, following a character named John Trimmer (also called "Toke Trimmer"). The text describes Trimmer's moral and physical deterioration after betraying associates named Burnham and someone connected to a ship called "Le Diable" and "Thunderous." He murders a spy to cover up his treachery, then suffers psychological torment—attributed not to fever but to guilt for "innumerable bloody sins against God and man." The passage employs religious and gothic language ("sickness of the soul," "hunted bear") to depict his spiritual corruption and fear as consequences of his crimes. Without seeing other pages or knowing the story's full context, the specific political or social satire intended remains unclear. This appears to be narrative fiction using moral decay as its theme rather than direct social commentary.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
THE WASP 265 they put to sea? Why didn’t they replenish their pockets from new prizes, or from one of their other treasure-ports? And what had - happened to James Burnham and the other schooner ? | Trimmer’s attempts at answering these ques- ~ tions were not convincing. There was talk of Trimmer’s jealousy of Burnham, and the spy who had served-him in the matter of the frigate Thunderous dropped a few words of the truth. Trimmer went ashore and knifed the spy—but the mischief had been done. He was told to his face that by his treachery against Burnham and Le Diable he had everlastingly damned his luck. He was afraid, despite his blustering oaths and blasphemous threats. He went aboard the schooner and lurked in his cabin like a hunted | bear inits den. A sickness was upon him which made his nights hideous with dreams and open- eyed visions, and strangled his days with vague dread. He thought it was a slow fever, bred of the mists of the marsh to the right of the harbour; put in reality it was a sickness of the soul, bred of the poison of his innumerable bloody sins against God and man. : Fear was a strange messmate for Toke Trim- mer, but now it was at his elbow night and day, comichooks.com