"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? I suppose you want I should feed
you, clothe you, support you, as I've been doing for your lazy
wife and children ever since the surrender. I shan't do it a day
longer--not a day! D'ye hear? Get off from my land before the sun
goes down to-morrow or I'll have the overseer set his dogs on you."

"All right," said Nimbus coolly; "jes yer pay my wife what's due
her and we'll leave ez soon ez yer please."

"Due her? You damned black rascal, do you stand there and tell me
I owe her anything?"

Strangely enough, the colored man did not quail. His army life had
taught him to stand his ground, even against a white man, and he
had not yet learned how necessary it was to unlearn the lesson of
liberty and assume again the role of the slave. The white man was
astounded. Here was a "sassy nigger" indeed! This was what freedom
did for them!

"Her papers dat you gib her at de hirin', Marse Potem," said Nimbus,
"says dat yer shall pay her fo' dollars a month an' rations. She's
hed de rations all reg'lar, Marse Desrnit; dat's all right, but