floor.  There was an old hair trunk in one corner, and a guitar-box in another, and all sorts of little knickknacks and jimcracks around, like girls brisken up a room with.  The king said it was all the more homely and more pleasanter for these fixings, and so don't disturb them.  The duke's room was pretty small, but plenty good enough, and so was my cubby. That night they had a big supper, and all them men and women was there, and I stood behind the king and the duke's chairs and waited on them, and the niggers waited on the rest.  Mary Jane she set at the head of the table, with Susan alongside of her, and said how bad the biscuits was, and how mean the preserves was, and how ornery and tough the fried chickens was--and all that kind of rot, the way women always do for to force out compliments; and the people all knowed everything was tiptop, and said so--said “How _do_ you get biscuits to brown so nice?” and “Where, for the land's sake, _did_ you get these amaz'n pickles?” and all that kind of humbug talky-talk, just the way people always does at a supper, you know. And when it was all done me and the hare-lip had supper in the kitchen off of the leavings, whilst the others was helping the niggers clean up the things.  The hare-lip she got to pumping me about England, and blest if I didn't think the ice was getting mighty thin sometimes.  She says: “Did you ever see the king?” “Who?  William Fourth?  Well, I bet I have--he goes to our church.”  I knowed he was dead years ago, but I never let on.  So when I says he goes to our church, she says: “What--regular?” “Yes--regular.  His pew's right over opposite ourn--on t'other side the pulpit.” “I thought he lived in London?” “Well, he does.  Where _would_ he live?” “But I thought _you_ lived in Sheffield?” I see I was up a stump.  I had to let on to get choked with a chicken bone, so as to get time to think how to get down again.  Then I says: “I mean he goes to our church regular when he's in Sheffield.