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Updated: June 10, 2025
I hain't got no ill-will gin Marse Desmit, not a mite only 'bout dat ar lickin, an' dat ain't nuffin now; but I ain't gwine ter war his name ner giv it ter my chillen ter mind 'em dat der daddy wuz jes anudder man's critter one time. I tell you I can't do hit, nohow; an' I won't, Bre'er 'Liab.
He intimated that it was possible that Winburn had done this while acting as the agent of Colonel Desmit, but this was probably not susceptible of proof, on account of the death of Desmit. He only stated it as a conjecture at best.
This life-tenant's necessities compelled him to relinquish his estate, which was bought by Colonel Desmit, during the second year of the war, together with the fee which he had acquired in the tract belonging to the old Ordinary, not because he wanted the land about Red Wing, but because the plantation to which it was attached was a good one, and he could buy it on reasonable terms for Confederate currency.
It was one of the sheet-anchors which the prudent and far-seeing Potestatem Desmit had thrown out to windward in anticipation of a coming storm. For half a mile along the bank of the little stream which was just wide enough to float a loaded batteau, the barrels of resin and pitch and turpentine were piled, tier upon tier, hundreds and thousands upon thousands of them.
The officer discharged Colonel Desmit, commended Nimbus for the sensible view he had taken of the quarrel, and the parties gave way for other matters which awaited the officer's attention.
Two weeks afterward a queerly clad figure rode up to the elegant mansion of Colonel Potestatem Desmit, overlooking the pleasant town of Louisburg in the county of Horsford, and found a party of Federal officers lounging upon his wide porches and making merry after war's alarums!
"How d'ye, Marse Desmit?" "Is that you, Nimbus? Get right out of here! I don't want any such grand rascal nigger in my house." "But, Marse Desrnit," began the colored man, greatly flurried by this rude greeting. "I don't want any 'buts. Damn you, I've had enough of all such cattle. What are you here for, anyhow? Why don't you go back to the Yankees that you ran away to?
The man who sold it to them their old master Potem Desmit no doubt thought he was getting two or three prices for it; but it has turned out one of the best tobacco farms in the county. It is between two very rich sections, and in a country having a very large colored population, perhaps the largest in the county, working the river plantations on one side and the creek bottoms on the other.
There was even then of record in the county of Horsford a deed of sale, bearing the hand and seal of P, Desmit, and executed little more than a year previously, conveying to one Peyton Winburn "all the right, title, and interest of said Desmit, in and to a certain runaway negro boy named Nimbus."
His blow fell not on the colored man's head, but on his upraised arm, and the next moment the cane was wrested from his hands, and the recent slave stood over his former master as he lay upon the floor, where he had fallen or been thrown, and said: "Don't yer try dat, Marse Desmit; I won't bar it dat I won't, from no man, black ner white.
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