As the day began to open, Tibeats came out of the house to where I was, hard at work. He seemed to be that morning even more morose and disagreeable than usual. He was my master, entitled by law to my flesh and blood, and to exercise over me such tyrannical control as his mean nature prompted; but there was no law that could prevent my looking upon him with intense contempt. I despised both his disposition and his intellect. I had just come round to the keg for a further supply of nails, as he reached the weaving-house.
"I thought I told you to commence putting on weather-boards this morning," he remarked.
"Yes, master, and I am about it," I replied.
"Where?" he demanded.
"On the other side," was my answer.
He walked round to the other side, examined my work for a while, muttering to himself in a fault-finding tone.
"Didn't I tell you last night to get a keg of nails of Chapin?" he broke forth again.
"Yes, master, and so I did; and overseer said he would get another size for you, if you wanted them, when he came back from the field."
Tibeats walked to the keg, looked a moment at the contents, then kicked it violently. Coming towards me in a great passion, he exclaimed.
"G—d d—n you! I thought you knowed something."
I made answer: "I tried to do as you told me,
