Whether they bought or pressed the corn, I know not, but the old gentleman invited us all to take supper with him.

If I have ever eaten a better supper than that I have forgotten it.

They had biscuit for supper.

What! flour bread?
Did my eyes deceive me?
Well, there were biscuit--sure enough flour bread--and sugar and coffee--genuine Rio--none of your rye or potato coffee, and butter--regular butter--and ham and eggs, and turnip greens, and potatoes, and fried chicken, and nice clean plates--none of your tin affairs--and a snow-white table-cloth and napkins, and white-handled knives and silver forks.

At the head of the table was the madam, having on a pair of golden spectacles, and at the foot the old gentleman.
He said grace.