And here an entirely new scene presents itself to our view. Board tables have been spread in every available corner, and even in the more sheltered portions of the adjoining yard, and everywhere is displayed a most sumptuous entertainment, consisting not only of the substantials of life, strangely served up in the form of a thick soup, but abounding even in luxuries. Good whisky and perhaps peach brandy is supplied in reasonable quantities, and the women, having finished their allotted duties, now mingle with the men, and the feasting company presents as merry and happy a picture of rural life as can well be imagined. Each negro devotes himself to his particular mess, and somewhat after the manner of the aborigines. Jokes of questionable elegance and delicacy are uttered to a considerable extent, and many compliments paid to the “_lib’ral and magnan’mous massa ob dis plantation_.” On such occasions, as might not be supposed, acts of decided impropriety but seldom occur, and it is not often that a sufficient quantity of spirit is imbibed, either materially to injure the health or produce intoxication. In this particular, even the “_down-trodden_” slaves, as they are called, may often set a worthy example for the imitation of those who occupy a more elevated rank in society. We now come to describe the concluding scene of the corn-husking entertainment, which consists of a dance upon the spot cleared away by the boys in the vicinity of the late fires, which are replenished for further use. The scraping of fiddles and the thumping of banjos having been heard above the clatter of _spoons_, _soup-plates_, and _gourds_, at the various supper tables, a new _stampede_ takes place, and the musicians are hurried off to the dancing ground, as if to trip the light fantastic toe were deemed the climax of earthly happiness. “On with the dance, let joy be unconfined.” But there seemeth no need of the poet’s advice on the present occasion, for the sable congregation now assembled, seem animated with an almost frantic excitement. The dance, as a matter of course, is the famous “_Virginia Reel_,” and at least a hundred individuals have formed themselves in their proper places. No sooner do the instruments attain the necessary pitch, than the head couples dash into the arena, now slowly and disdainfully, now swiftly and ferociously, and now performing the _double shuffle_ or the _pigeon-wing_. Anon they come to a stand, while others follow, and go through the same fantastic performances, with the addition perhaps of an occasional leap or whirl. The excitement is becoming more intense than ever, and it is evident that those whose business it is to stand still, are actually dancing in their shoes. Louder than ever wails the music—order is followed by confusion—and in the madness of the dance there is no method. The brilliant watch-fires cast a ruddy glow upon the faces of the dancers, and when, as it sometimes happens, an individual