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Updated: May 1, 2025
Swar, but I war skeered nigh 'bout ter death, till I got dar an' seed him so quiet and keerless; an' Bre'er 'Liab, he war jest a-prayin' all de time but dat's no wonder.
Nimbus, however, was stubborn and declared that "if Marse Hesden would not act for him he would go to Louisburg and buy it of Marse Desmit himself." "Dar ain't no use o' talkin', 'Liab," said he. "You an' Marse Hesden knows a heap more'n I does 'bout most things; dar ain't no doubt 'bout dat 'an nobody knows it better'n I does. But what Nimbus knows, he knows, an' dat's de eend on't.
Jes nuffin'. Der ain't no mo' use o' fightin' dan ob tryin' ter butt down 'simmons off a foot-an'-a-half tree wid yer head. It don't make no sort o' matter 'bout our rights. Co'se we'se got a right ter vote, an' hold meetin's, an' be like white folks; but we can't do it ef dey's a mind ter stop us. An' dey is dat berry ting! "Nimbus sez he's gwine ter fight, an' 'Liab sez he's gwine ter pray.
The cripple stretched out both hands to his stalwart friend, and the tears which ran down his cheeks attested the sincerity of his words. Nimbus took his outstretched hands, held them in his own a moment, then went to the door, looked carefully about, came back again, and with some embarrassment said, "An' dat ain't all, Bre'er 'Liab. Jes' you look dar."
What yer s'pose dem fer, 'Liab? Dunno? I should tink not. House logs fer de church, 'Liab. Make it jes ez big ez yer wants. Dar 'tis. Only gib me some few shingles an' a flo', an' dar yer hev jes ez good a church ez de 'postles ebber hed ter preach in." "An' de school, Nimbus?" timidly. "Shuah 'nough. Why I nebber tink ob dat afo'? An' you de teacher! Now you is talkin', 'Liab, certain shuah!
Nimbus's hand still clutched the saber, and Lugena had picked up the axe which she had dropped. The groaning came indeed from Eliab. He had partially recovered from the unconsciousness which had come over him while undergoing torture, and with returning animation had come the sense of acute suffering from the injuries he had received. "Bre'er 'Liab!" whispered Nimbus, bending over him.
"Wal, 'Gena?" "Is you hurt, honey?" "Nary bit. How should I be? They run away ez quick ez I come. Did they 'buse you, 'Gena?" "None of enny 'count," she answered, cautiously, for fear of raising his anger to a point beyond control "only jest a tryin' ter make me tell whar you was you an' 'Liab." "Whar's yer clo'es, honey?" "In de house, dar, only what I tore, getting away from 'em."
The search for Nimbus proving unavailing they scarcely seemed to expect to find him they began to inquire of the terror-stricken woman the whereabouts of his friend. "Where is 'Liab Hill?" asked the man who held her arm. "What have you done with that snivelling hop-toad minister?" queried another.
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