The Wasp, 1918 · page 51 of 330
The Wasp — 1918 — page 51: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page presents a serialized dramatic narrative (not a political cartoon) from *The Wasp*, a 19th-century American satirical magazine. The passage depicts a scene aboard a ship where a character named Burnham lies apparently unconscious or severely ill in the forecastle (crew quarters). A New England shipmaster and first mate Mr. Winch discover him and debate whether he's dying. Their dialogue reveals the economic calculation underlying maritime labor: they determine Burnham is worth "thirty guineas" if delivered alive to a planter (likely in the Caribbean or colonial region), but worthless dead. They decide to revive him with brandy. The fragment's final line suggests a piracy subplot, though it's cut off. The narrative appears to be serialized fiction exploring themes of labor exploitation, survival at sea, and colonial-era commerce—typical content for *The Wasp*'s mix of satire and adventure storytelling.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
oe ZTHE WASP — -A second visitor came to the suffocating forecastle an hour later, and this was the shipmaster himself. : *¢ So there ye lay, ye mutinous Coe Ve ad the New Englander. Burnham opened one eye languidly and groaned. *“How d’ye fancy yer berth i queried the other, grinning dryly. Burnham closed his eye and crratiled more, . limply than before. The shipmaster stirred him briskly with the toe of his boot, but failed — to excite any response. He went to the foot of the ladder and bawled for Mr. Winch, the first ° mate. Winch looked through the hatch and was told to fetch down a bottle of liquor. He soon arrived with a bottle of brandy. He, too, stirred the limp form of Burnham with an. inquiring toe. Leave the dog lay,” he suggested. “ He’s : purty nigh gone, anyhow.” | ‘Fetch him round,” said the hip ** Put a gill or two o’ that there liquor into him. - He ain’t worth a penny dead, afloat or. ashore ; but if we land him alive an’ in good heart he’s worth thirty guineas out o’ any planter’s pocket. “If we kin make one o’ these here pirate — icomichooks:com)