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Updated: May 27, 2025
"Yer may be right," said Dawsey, laughing, and with a touch of pride in his tone. "I've done pretty well since the wah. An' that brings me back to what I come over for. I thought I'd ax, if ye should git in a notion of selling, what yer'd take fer yer place here?" "I hain't no idea uv selling, Mister Dossey, an' hain't no notion uv hevin' any 'nuther.
Ef he'd never been a 'speculator' an' hadn't tried to grow rich a raisin' men an' wimmen for market he'd a been richer'n ever he was, when he died." "Oh, you're mistaken 'bout that, Nimbus. The wah ruined us all." "Ha! ha! ha!" roared Nimbus, derisively. "What de wah ebber take from you, Mister Dossey, only jes yer oberseer's whip?
An' ef de Ku Klux comes, I's jest a gwine ter kill de las' one I gits a chance at. Now, you min' what I say, Mister Dossey, kase I means ebbery word on't." The white man cowered before the other's energy. He was of that class who were once denominated "poor whites."
"I'se purty well prepared for 'em now, an' atter tomorrer I'll be jes ready for 'em. I'se gwine ter Louisburg to-morrer, an' I 'llow that atter I come back they won't keer ter meddle wid Nimbus. Tell yer what, Mister Dossey, I bought dis place from ole Marse Desmit, an' paid for it, ebbery cent; an' I swar I ain't a gwine ter let no man drive me offen it nary foot.
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