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Bricks Without Straw by Albion Winegar Tourgée
page 53 of 579 (09%)
some sort of surname."

"No, sah, jes' one; nigger no use for two names."

"Yah! yah! yah!" echoed the dusky crowd behind him. "You's jes'
right dah, you is! Niggah mighty little use fer heap o' names. Jes'
like a mule--one name does him, an' mighty well off ef he's 'lowed
ter keep dat."

"His name's Desmit," said a white man, the sheriff of the county,
who stood leaning over the railing; "used to belong to old Potem
Desmit, over to Louisburg. Mighty good nigger, too. I s'pec' ole
man Desmit felt about as bad at losing him as ary one he had."

"Powerful good hand in terbacker," said Mr. Glass, who was himself an
expert in "yaller leaf." "Ther' wasn't no better ennywhar' round."

"I knows all about him," said another. "Seed a man offer old Desmit
eighteen hundred dollars for him afore the war--State money--but
he wouldn't tech it. Reckon he wishes he had now."

"Yes," said the sheriff, "he's the best curer in the county. Commands
almost any price in the season, but is powerful independent, and
gittin' right sassy. Listen at him now?"

"They say your name is Desmit--Nimbus Desmit," said the officer;
"is that so?"

"No, tain't."

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