{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_14314/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_14314","id":"gutenberg_14314","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/14314","summary":null,"tags":["Bestsellers, American, 1895-1923","Category: How To ...","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Etiquette","Reference"],"text":"[Illustration: A BRIDE'S BOUQUET\n\n\"THE RADIANCE OF A TRULY HAPPY BRIDE IS SO BEAUTIFYING THAT EVEN A PLAIN\nGIRL IS MADE PRETTY, AND A PRETTY ONE, DIVINE.\" [Page 373.]]\n\n\n\n\n=ETIQUETTE=\n\n    IN SOCIETY, IN BUSINESS, IN POLITICS\n    AND AT HOME\n\n\n    =BY EMILY POST=\n\n    (MRS. PRICE POST)\n\n    Author of \"Purple and Fine Linen,\" \"The Title Market,\" \"Woven in the\n    Tapestry,\" \"The Flight of a Moth,\" \"Letters of a Worldly\n    Godmother,\" etc., etc.\n\n\n    ILLUSTRATED WITH PRIVATE PHOTOGRAPHS\n    AND FACSIMILES OF SOCIAL FORMS\n\n\n    FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY\n\n    =NEW YORK AND LONDON=\n\n    1922\n\n    By\n\n    FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY\n\n    [Printed in the United States of America]\n    First Edition published in July 1922\n    Second Edition published in September, 1922\n\n    August 11, 1910.\n\n\n          TO YOU MY FRIENDS\n    WHOSE IDENTITY IN THESE PAGES\n   IS VEILED IN FICTIONAL DISGUISE\n       IT IS BUT FITTING THAT\n        I DEDICATE THIS BOOK.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n   CHAPTER\n\n            INTRODUCTION\n         I. WHAT IS BEST SOCIETY?\n        II. INTRODUCTIONS\n       III. GREETINGS\n        IV. SALUTATIONS OF COURTESY\n         V. ON THE STREET AND IN PUBLIC\n        VI. AT PUBLIC GATHERINGS\n       VII. CONVERSATION\n      VIII. WORDS, PHRASES AND PRONUNCIATION\n        IX. ONE'S POSITION IN THE COMMUNITY\n         X. CARDS AND VISITS\n        XI. INVITATIONS, ACCEPTANCES AND REGRETS\n       XII. THE WELL-APPOINTED HOUSE\n      XIII. TEAS AND OTHER AFTERNOON PARTIES\n       XIV. FORMAL DINNERS\n        XV. DINNER-GIVING WITH LIMITED EQUIPMENT\n       XVI. LUNCHEONS, BREAKFASTS AND SUPPERS\n      XVII. BALLS AND DANCES\n     XVIII. THE D\u00c9BUTANTE\n       XIX. THE CHAPERON AND OTHER CONVENTIONS\n        XX. ENGAGEMENTS\n       XXI. FIRST PREPARATIONS BEFORE A WEDDING\n      XXII. THE DAY OF THE WEDDING\n     XXIII. CHRISTENINGS\n      XXIV. FUNERALS\n       XXV. THE COUNTRY HOUSE AND ITS HOSPITALITY\n      XXVI. THE HOUSE PARTY IN CAMP\n     XXVII. NOTES AND SHORTER LETTERS\n    XXVIII. LONGER LETTERS\n      XXIX. THE FUNDAMENTALS OF GOOD BEHAVIOR\n       XXX. CLUBS AND CLUB ETIQUETTE\n      XXXI. GAMES AND SPORTS\n     XXXII. ETIQUETTE IN BUSINESS AND POLITICS\n    XXXIII. DRESS\n     XXXIV. THE CLOTHES OF A GENTLEMAN\n      XXXV. THE KINDERGARTEN OF ETIQUETTE\n     XXXVI. EVERY-DAY MANNERS AT HOME\n    XXXVII. TRAVELING AT HOME AND ABROAD\n   XXXVIII. THE GROWTH OF GOOD TASTE IN AMERICA\n\n\nPHOTOGRAPHIC ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n    A BRIDE'S BOUQUET\n    A GEM OF A HOUSE\n    THE PERSONALITY OF A HOUSE\n    CONSIDERATION FOR SERVANTS\n    THE AFTERNOON TEA-TABLE\n    A FORMAL DINNER\n    DETAIL OF PLACE AT A FORMAL DINNER\n    A DINNER SERVICE WITHOUT SILVER\n    THE MOST ELABORATE DINNER DANCE EVER GIVEN IN NEW YORK\n    A CHURCH WEDDING\n    A HOUSE WEDDING\n    THE IDEAL GUEST ROOM\n    A BREAKFAST TRAY\n    THE CHILD AT TABLE\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\nMANNERS AND MORALS\n\nBy\n\nRichard Duffy\n\n\nMany who scoff at a book of etiquette would be shocked to hear the least\nexpression of levity touching the Ten Commandments. But the Commandments\ndo not always prevent such virtuous scoffers from dealings with their\nneighbor of which no gentleman could be capable and retain his claim to\nthe title. Though it may require ingenuity to reconcile their actions with\nthe Decalogue--the ingenuity is always forthcoming. There is no intention\nin this remark to intimate that there is any higher rule of life than the\nTen Commandments; only it is illuminating as showing the relationship\nbetween manners and morals, which is too often overlooked. The polished\ngentleman of sentimental fiction has so long served as the type of smooth\nand conscienceless depravity that urbanity of demeanor inspires distrust\nin ruder minds. On the other hand, the blunt, unpolished hero of melodrama\nand romantic fiction has lifted brusqueness and pushfulness to a pedestal\nnot wholly merited. Consequently, the kinship between conduct that keeps\nus within the law and conduct that makes civilized life worthy to be\ncalled such, deserves to be noted with emphasis. The Chinese sage,\nConfucius, could not tolerate the suggestion that virtue is in itself\nenough without politeness, for he viewed them as inseparable and \"saw\ncourtesies as coming from the heart,\" maintaining that \"when they are\npractised with all the heart, a moral elevation ensues.\"\n\nPeople who ridicule etiquette as a mass of trivial and arbitrary\nconventions, \"extremely troublesome to those who practise them and\ninsupportable to everybody else,\" seem to forget the long, slow progress\nof social intercourse in the upward climb of man from the primeval state.\nConventions were established from the first to regulate the rights of the\nindividual and the tribe. They were and are the rules of the game of life\nand must be followed if we would \"play the game.\" Ages before man felt the\nneed of indigestion remedies, he ate his food solitary and furtive in some\ncorner, hoping he would not be espied by any stronger and hungrier fellow.\nIt was a long, long time before the habit of eating in common was\nacquired; and it is obvious that the practise could not have been taken up\nwith safety until the individuals of the race knew enough about one\nanother and about the food resources to be sure that there was food\nsufficient for all. When eating in common became the vogue, table manners\nmade their appearance and they have been waging an uphill struggle ever\nsince. The custom of raising the hat when meeting an acquaintance derives\nfrom the old rule that friendly knights in accosting each other should\nraise the visor for mutual recognition in amity. In the knightly years, it\nmust be remembered, it was important to know whether one was meeting\nfriend or foe. Meeting a foe meant fighting on the spot. Thus, it is\nevident that the conventions of courtesy not only tend to make the wheels\nof life run more smoothly, but also act as safeguards in human\nrelationship. Imagine the Paris Peace Conference, or any of the later\nconferences in Europe, without the protective armor of diplomatic\netiquette!\n\nNevertheless, to some the very word etiquette is an irritant. It implies a\ngreat pother about trifles, these conscientious objectors assure us, and\ntrifles are unimportant. Trifles are unimportant, it is true, but then\nlife is made up of trifles. To those who dislike the word, it suggests all\nthat is finical and superfluous. It means a garish embroidery on the big\nscheme of life; a clog on the forward march of a strong and courageous\nnation. To such as these, the words etiquette and politeness connote\nweakness and timidity. Their notion of a really polite man is a dancing\nmaster or a man milliner. They were always willing to admit that the\nFrench were the politest nation in Europe and equally ready to assert that\nthe French were the weakest and least valorous, until the war opened their\neyes in amazement. Yet, that manners and fighting can go hand in hand\nappears in the following anecdote:\n\nIn the midst of the war, some French soldiers and some non-French of the\nAllied forces were receiving their rations in a village back of the lines.\nThe non-French fighters belonged to an Army that supplied rations\nplentifully. They grabbed their allotments and stood about while hastily\neating, uninterrupted by conversation or other concern. The French\nsoldiers took their very meager portions of food, improvised a kind of\ntable on the top of a flat rock, and having laid out the rations,\nincluding the small quantity of wine that formed part of the repast, sat\ndown in comfort and began their meal amid a chatter of talk. One of the\nnon-French soldiers, all of whom had finished their large supply of food\nbefore the French had begun eating, asked sardonically: \"Why do you\nfellows make such a lot of fuss over the little bit of grub they give you\nto eat?\" The Frenchman replied: \"Well, we are making war for civilization,\nare we not? Very well, we are. Therefore, we eat in a civilized way.\"\n\nTo the French we owe the word etiquette, and it is amusing to discover its\norigin in the commonplace familiar warning--\"Keep off the grass.\" It\nhappened in the reign of Louis XIV, when the gardens of Versailles were\nbeing laid out, that the master gardener, an old Scotsman, was sorely\ntried because his newly seeded lawns were being continually\ntrampled upon. To keep trespassers off, he put up warning signs or\ntickets--_etiquettes_--on which was indicated the path along which to\npass. But the courtiers paid no attention to these directions and so the\ndetermined Scot complained to the King in such convincing manner that His\nMajesty issued an edict commanding everyone at Court to \"keep within the\n_etiquettes_.\" Gradually the term came to cover all the rules for correct\ndemeanor and deportment in court circles; and thus through the centuries\nit has grown into use to describe the conventions sanctioned for the\npurpose of smoothing personal contacts and developing tact and good\nmanners in social intercourse. With the decline of feudal courts and the\nrise of empires of industry, much of the ceremony of life was discarded\nfor plain and less formal dealing. Trousers and coats supplanted doublets\nand hose, and the change in costume was not more extreme than the change\nin social ideas. The court ceased to be the arbiter of manners, though the\naristocracy of the land remained the high exemplar of good breeding.\n\nYet, even so courtly and materialistic a mind as Lord Chesterfield's\nacknowledged a connection between manners and morality, of which latter\nthe courts of Europe seemed so sparing. In one of the famous \"Letters to\nHis Son\" he writes: \"Moral virtues are the foundation of society in\ngeneral, and of friendship in particular; but attentions, manners, and\ngraces, both adorn and strengthen them.\" Again he says: \"Great merit, or\ngreat failings, will make you respected or despised; but trifles, little\nattentions, mere nothings, either done or reflected, will make you either\nliked or disliked, in the general run of the world.\" For all the wisdom\nand brilliancy of his worldly knowledge, perhaps no other writer has done\nso much to bring disrepute on the \"manners and graces\" as Lord\nChesterfield, and this, it is charged, because he debased them so heavily\nby considering them merely as the machinery of a successful career. To the\nmoralists, the fact that the moral standards of society in Lord\nChesterfield's day were very different from those of the present era\nrather adds to the odium that has become associated with his attitude. His\nseverest critics, however, do concede that he is candid and outspoken, and\nmany admit that his social strategy is widely practised even in these\ndays.\n\nBut the aims of the world in which he moved were routed by the onrush of\nthe ideals of democratic equality, fraternity, and liberty. With the\nprosperity of the newer shibboleths, the old-time notion of aristocracy,\ngentility, and high breeding became more and more a curio to be framed\nsuitably in gold and kept in the glass case of an art museum. The crashing\nadvance of the industrial age of gold thrust all courts and their sinuous\ngraces aside for the unmistakable ledger balance of the counting-house.\nThis new order of things had been a long time in process, when, in the\nfirst year of this century, a distinguished English social historian, the\nlate The Right Honorable G.W.E. Russell, wrote: \"Probably in all ages of\nhistory men have liked money, but a hundred years ago they did not talk\nabout it in society.... Birth, breeding, rank, accomplishments, eminence\nin literature, eminence in art, eminence in public service--all these\nthings still count for something in society. But when combined they are\nonly as the dust of the balance when weighed against the all-prevalent\npower of money. The worship of the Golden Calf is the characteristic cult\nof modern society.\" In the Elizabethan Age of mighty glory, three hundred\nyears before this was said, Ben Jonson had railed against money as \"a thin\nmembrane of honor,\" groaning: \"How hath all true reputation fallen since\nmoney began to have any!\" Now the very fact that the debasing effect of\nmoney on the social organism has been so constantly reprehended, from\nScriptural days onward, proves the instinctive yearning of mankind for a\nsystem of life regulated by good taste, high intelligence and sound\naffections. But, it remains true that, in the succession of great\ncommercial epochs, coincident with the progress of modern science and\ninvention, _almost_ everything can be bought and sold, and so _almost_\neverything is rated by the standard of money.\n\nYet, this standard is precisely not the ultimate test of the Christianity\non which we have been pluming ourselves through the centuries. Still, no\none can get along without money; and few of us get along very well with\nwhat we have. At least we think so--because everybody else seems to think\nthat way. We Americans are members of the nation which, materially, is\nthe richest, most prosperous and most promising in the world. This idea is\ndinned into our heads continually by foreign observers, and publicly we\n\"own the soft impeachment.\" Privately, each individual American seems\ndriven with the decision that he must live up to the general conception of\nthe nation as a whole. And he does, but in less strenuous moments he might\nprofitably ponder the counsel of Gladstone to his countrymen: \"Let us\nrespect the ancient manners and recollect that, if the true soul of\nchivalry has died among us, with it all that is good in society has died.\nLet us cherish a sober mind; take for granted that in our best\nperformances there are latent many errors which in their own time will\ncome to light.\"\n\nAmerica, too, has her ancient manners to remember and respect; but, in the\nrapid assimilation of new peoples into her economic and social organism,\nmore pressing concerns take up nearly all her time. The perfection of\nmanners by intensive cultivation of good taste, some believe, would be the\ngreatest aid possible to the moralists who are alarmed over the decadence\nof the younger generation. Good taste may not make men or women really\nvirtuous, but it will often save them from what theologians call\n\"occasions of sin.\" We may note, too, that grossness in manners forms a\nlarge proportion of the offenses that fanatical reformers foam about.\nBesides grossness, there is also the meaner selfishness. Selfishness is at\nthe polar remove from the worldly manners of the old school, according to\nwhich, as Dr. Pusey wrote, others were preferred to self, pain was given\nto no one, no one was neglected, deference was shown to the weak and the\naged, and unconscious courtesy extended to all inferiors. Such was the\n\"beauty\" of the old manners, which he felt consisted in \"acting upon\nChristian principle, and if in any case it became soulless, as apart from\nChristianity, the beautiful form was there, into which the real life might\nre-enter.\"\n\nAs a study of all that is admirable in American manners, and as a guide to\nbehavior in the simplest as well as the most complex requirements of life\nday by day, whether we are at home or away from it, there can be no\nhappier choice than the present volume. It is conceived in the belief that\netiquette in its broader sense means the technique of human conduct under\nall circumstances in life. Yet all minuti\u00e6 of correct manners are included\nand no detail is too small to be explained, from the selection of a\nvisiting card to the mystery of eating corn on the cob. Matters of clothes\nfor men and women are treated with the same fullness of information and\naccuracy of taste as are questions of the furnishing of their houses and\nthe training of their minds to social intercourse. But there is no\nexaggeration of the minor details at the expense of the more important\nspirit of personal conduct and attitude of mind. To dwell on formal\ntrivialities, the author holds, is like \"measuring the letters of the\nsign-boards by the roadside instead of profiting by the directions they\noffer.\" She would have us know also that \"it is not the people who make\nsmall technical mistakes or even blunders, who are barred from the paths\nof good society, but those of sham and pretense whose veneered vulgarity\nat every step tramples the flowers in the gardens of cultivation.\" To her\nmind the structure of etiquette is comparable to that of a house, of which\nthe foundation is ethics and the rest good taste, correct speech, quiet,\nunassuming behavior, and a proper pride of dignity.\n\nTo such as entertain the mistaken notion that politeness implies all give\nand little or no return, it is well to recall Coleridge's definition of a\ngentleman: \"We feel the gentlemanly character present with us,\" he said,\n\"whenever, under all circumstances of social intercourse, the trivial, not\nless than the important, through the whole detail of his manners and\ndeportment, and with the ease of a habit, a person shows respect to others\nin such a way as at the same time implies, in his own feelings, and\nhabitually, an assured anticipation of reciprocal respect from them to\nhimself. In short, the gentlemanly character arises out of the feeling of\nequality acting as a habit, yet flexible to the varieties of rank, and\nmodified without being disturbed or superseded by them.\" Definitions of a\ngentleman are numerous, and some of them famous; but we do not find such\ncopiousness for choice in definitions of a lady. Perhaps it has been\nunderstood all along that the admirable and just characteristics of a\ngentleman should of necessity be those also of a lady, with the charm of\nwomanhood combined. And, in these days, with the added responsibility of\nthe vote.\n\nBesides the significance of this volume as an indubitable authority on\nmanners, it should be pointed out that as a social document, it is without\nprecedent in American literature. In order that we may better realize the\nbehavior and environment of well-bred people, the distinguished author has\nintroduced actual persons and places in fictional guise. They are the\npersons and the places of her own world; and whether we can or can not\npenetrate the incognito of the Worldlys, the Gildings, the Kindharts, the\nOldnames, and the others, is of no importance. Fictionally, they are real\nenough for us to be interested and instructed in their way of living. That\nthey happen to move in what is known as Society is incidental, for, as the\nauthor declares at the very outset: \"Best Society is not a fellowship of\nthe wealthy, nor does it seek to exclude those who are not of exalted\nbirth; but it is an association of gentlefolk, of which good form in\nspeech, charm of manner, knowledge of the social amenities, and\ninstinctive consideration for the feelings of others, are the credentials\nby which society the world over recognizes its chosen members.\"\n\nThe immediate fact is that the characters of this book are thoroughbred\nAmericans, representative of various sections of the country and free from\nthe slightest tinge of snobbery. Not all of them are even well-to-do, in\nthe postwar sense; and their devices of economy in household outlay, dress\nand entertainment are a revelation in the science of ways and means. There\nare parents, children, relatives and friends all passing before us in the\npageant of life from the cradle to the grave. No circumstance, from an\nintroduction to a wedding, is overlooked in this panorama and the\nspectator has beside him a cicerone in the person of the author who clears\nevery doubt and answers every question. In course, the conviction grows\nupon him that etiquette is no flummery of poseurs \"aping the manners of\ntheir betters,\" nor a code of snobs, who divide their time between licking\nthe boots of those above them and kicking at those below, but a system of\nrules of conduct based on respect of self coupled with respect of others.\nMeanwhile, to guard against conceit in his new knowledge, he may at odd\nmoments recall Ben Jonson's lines:\n\n    \"Nor stand so much on your gentility,\n    Which is an airy, and mere borrowed thing,\n    From dead men's dust, and bones: And none of yours\n    Except you make, or hold it.\"\n\n\n\n\n=ETIQUETTE=\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nWHAT IS BEST SOCIETY?\n\n\n\"Society\" is an ambiguous term; it may mean much or nothing. Every human\nbeing--unless dwelling alone in a cave--is a member of society of one sort\nor another, and therefore it is well to define what is to be understood by\nthe term \"Best Society\" and why its authority is recognized. Best Society\nabroad is always the oldest aristocracy; composed not so much of persons\nof title, which may be new, as of those families and communities which\nhave for the longest period of time known highest cultivation. Our own\nBest Society is represented by social groups which have had, since this is\nAmerica, widest rather than longest association with old world\ncultivation. Cultivation is always the basic attribute of Best Society,\nmuch as we hear in this country of an \"Aristocracy of wealth.\"\n\nTo the general public a long purse is synonymous with high position--a\ntheory dear to the heart of the \"yellow\" press and eagerly fostered in the\npreposterous social functions of screen drama. It is true that Best\nSociety is comparatively rich; it is true that the hostess of great\nwealth, who constantly and lavishly entertains, will shine, at least to\nthe readers of the press, more brilliantly than her less affluent sister.\nYet the latter, through her quality of birth, her poise, her inimitable\ndistinction, is often the jewel of deeper water in the social crown of her\ntime.\n\nThe most advertised commodity is not always intrinsically the best, but is\nsometimes merely the product of a company with plenty of money to spend on\nadvertising. In the same way, money brings certain people before the\npublic--sometimes they are persons of \"quality,\" quite as often the\nso-called \"society leaders\" featured in the public press do not belong to\ngood society at all, in spite of their many published photographs and the\nenergies of their press-agents. Or possibly they do belong to \"smart\"\nsociety; but if too much advertised, instead of being the \"queens\" they\nseem, they might more accurately be classified as the court jesters of\nto-day.\n\n\n=THE IMITATION AND THE GENUINE=\n\nNew York, more than any city in the world, unless it be Paris, loves to be\namused, thrilled and surprised all at the same time; and will accept with\noutstretched hand any one who can perform this astounding feat. Do not\nunderestimate the ability that can achieve it: a scintillating wit, an\narresting originality, a talent for entertaining that amounts to genius,\nand gold poured literally like rain, are the least requirements.\n\nPuritan America on the other hand demanding, as a ticket of admission to\nher Best Society, the qualifications of birth, manners and cultivation,\nclasps her hands tight across her slim trim waist and announces severely\nthat New York's \"Best\" is, in her opinion, very \"bad\" indeed. But this is\nbecause Puritan America, as well as the general public, mistakes the\njester for the queen.\n\nAs a matter of fact, Best Society is not at all like a court with an\nespecial queen or king, nor is it confined to any one place or group, but\nmight better be described as an unlimited brotherhood which spreads over\nthe entire surface of the globe, the members of which are invariably\npeople of cultivation and worldly knowledge, who have not only perfect\nmanners but a perfect manner. Manners are made up of trivialities of\ndeportment which can be easily learned if one does not happen to know\nthem; manner is personality--the outward manifestation of one's innate\ncharacter and attitude toward life. A gentleman, for instance, will never\nbe ostentatious or overbearing any more than he will ever be servile,\nbecause these attributes never animate the impulses of a well-bred person.\nA man whose manners suggest the grotesque is invariably a person of\nimitation rather than of real position.\n\nEtiquette must, if it is to be of more than trifling use, include ethics\nas well as manners. Certainly what one is, is of far greater importance\nthan what one appears to be. A knowledge of etiquette is of course\nessential to one's decent behavior, just as clothing is essential to one's\ndecent appearance; and precisely as one wears the latter without being\nself-conscious of having on shoes and perhaps gloves, one who has good\nmanners is equally unself-conscious in the observance of etiquette, the\nprecepts of which must be so thoroughly absorbed as to make their\nobservance a matter of instinct rather than of conscious obedience.\n\nThus Best Society is not a fellowship of the wealthy, nor does it seek to\nexclude those who are not of exalted birth; but it _is_ an association of\ngentle-folk, of which good form in speech, charm of manner, knowledge of\nthe social amenities, and instinctive consideration for the feelings of\nothers, are the credentials by which society the world over recognizes its\nchosen members.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nINTRODUCTIONS\n\n\n=THE CORRECT FORM=\n\nThe word \"present\" is preferable on formal occasions to the word\n\"introduce.\" On informal occasions neither word is expressed, though\nunderstood, as will be shown below. The correct formal introduction is:\n\n    \"Mrs. Jones, may I present Mr. Smith?\"\n\nor,\n\n    \"Mr. Distinguished, may I present Mr. Young?\"\n\nThe younger person is always presented to the older or more distinguished,\nbut a gentleman is always presented to a lady, even though he is an old\ngentleman of great distinction and the lady a mere slip of a girl.\n\nNo lady is ever, except to the President of the United States, a cardinal,\nor a reigning sovereign, presented to a man. The correct introduction of\neither a man or woman:\n\nTo the President,\n\nis,\n\n    \"Mr. President, I have the honor to present Mrs. Jones, of\n    Chicago.\"\n\nTo a Cardinal,\n\nis,\n\n    \"Your Eminence, may I present Mrs. Jones?\"\n\nTo a King:\n\nMuch formality of presenting names on lists is gone through beforehand; at\nthe actual presentation an \"accepted\" name is repeated from functionary to\nequerry and nothing is said to the King or Queen except: \"Mrs. Jones.\"\n\nBut a Foreign Ambassador is presented, \"Mr. Ambassador, may I present you\nto Mrs. Jones.\"\n\nVery few people in polite society are introduced by their formal titles. A\nhostess says, \"Mrs. Jones, may I present the Duke of Overthere?\" or \"Lord\nBlank?\"; never \"his Grace\" or \"his Lordship.\" The Honorable is merely Mr.\nLordson, or Mr. Holdoffice. A doctor, a judge, a bishop, are addressed and\nintroduced by their titles. The clergy are usually Mister unless they\nformally hold the title of Doctor, or Dean, or Canon. A Catholic priest is\n\"Father Kelly.\" A senator is always introduced as Senator, whether he is\nstill in office or not. But the President of the United States, once he is\nout of office, is merely \"Mr.\" and not \"Ex-president.\"\n\n\n=THE PREVAILING INTRODUCTION AND INFLECTION=\n\nIn the briefer form of introduction commonly used,\n\n    \"Mrs. Worldly, Mrs. Norman,\"\n\nif the two names are said in the same tone of voice it is not apparent who\nis introduced to whom; but by accentuating the more important person's\nname, it can be made as clear as though the words \"May I present\" had been\nused.\n\nThe more important name is said with a slightly rising inflection, the\nsecondary as a mere statement of fact. For instance, suppose you say, \"Are\nyou there?\" and then \"It is raining!\" Use the same inflection exactly and\nsay, \"Mrs. Worldly?\"--\"Mrs. Younger!\"\n\n    Are you there?--It is raining!\n    Mrs. Worldly?--Mrs. Younger!\n\nThe unmarried lady is presented to the married one, unless the latter is\nvery much the younger. As a matter of fact, in introducing two ladies to\neach other or one gentleman to another, no distinction is made. \"Mrs.\nSmith; Mrs. Norman.\" \"Mr. Brown; Mr. Green.\"\n\nThe inflection is:\n\n    I think--it's going to rain!\n    Mrs. Smith--Mrs. Norman!\n\nA man is also often introduced, \"Mrs. Worldly? Mr. Norman!\" But to a very\ndistinguished man, a mother would say:\n\n    \"Mr. Edison--My daughter, Mary!\"\n\nTo a young man, however, she should say, \"Mr. Struthers, have you met my\ndaughter?\" If the daughter is married, she should have added, \"My\ndaughter, Mrs. Smartlington.\" The daughter's name is omitted because it is\nextremely bad taste (except in the South) to call her daughter \"Miss Mary\"\nto any one but a servant, and on the other hand she should not present a\nyoung man to \"Mary.\" The young man can easily find out her name afterward.\n\n\n=OTHER FORMS OF INTRODUCTION=\n\nOther permissible forms of introduction are:\n\n\"Mrs. Jones, do you know Mrs. Norman?\"\n\nor,\n\n\"Mrs. Jones, you know Mrs. Robinson, don't you?\" (on no account say \"Do\nyou not?\" Best Society always says \"don't you?\")\n\nor,\n\n\"Mrs. Robinson, have you met Mrs. Jones?\"\n\nor,\n\n\"Mrs. Jones, do you know my mother?\"\n\nor,\n\n\"This is my daughter Ellen, Mrs. Jones.\"\n\nThese are all good form, whether gentlemen are introduced to ladies,\nladies to ladies, or gentlemen to gentlemen. In introducing a gentleman to\na lady, you may ask Mr. Smith if he has met Mrs. Jones, but you must not\nask Mrs. Jones if she has met Mr. Smith!\n\n\n=FORMS OF INTRODUCTIONS TO AVOID=\n\nDo not say: \"Mr. Jones, shake hands with Mr. Smith,\" or \"Mrs. Jones, I\nwant to make you acquainted with Mrs. Smith.\" Never say: \"make you\nacquainted with\" and do not, in introducing one person to another, call\none of them \"my friend.\" You can say \"my aunt,\" or \"my sister,\" or \"my\ncousin\"--but to pick out a particular person as \"my friend\" is not only\nbad style but, unless you have only one friend, bad manners--as it implies\nMrs. Smith is \"my friend\" and you are a stranger.\n\nYou may very properly say to Mr. Smith \"I want you to meet Mrs. Jones,\"\nbut this is not a form of introduction, nor is it to be said in Mrs.\nJones' hearing. Upon leading Mr. Smith up to Mrs. Jones, you say \"Mrs.\nJones may I present Mr. Smith\" or \"Mrs. Jones; Mr. Smith.\" Under no\ncircumstances whatsoever say \"Mr. Smith meet Mrs. Jones,\" or \"Mrs. Jones\nmeet Mr. Smith.\" Either wording is equally preposterous.\n\nDo not repeat \"Mrs. Jones? Mrs. Smith! Mrs. Smith? Mrs. Jones!\" To say\neach name once is quite enough.\n\nMost people of good taste very much dislike being asked their names. To\nsay \"What is your name?\" is always abrupt and unflattering. If you want to\nknow with whom you have been talking, you can generally find a third\nperson later and ask \"Who was the lady with the grey feather in her hat?\"\nThe next time you see her you can say \"How do you do, Mrs. ----\" (calling\nher by name).\n\n\n=WHEN TO SHAKE HANDS=\n\nWhen gentlemen are introduced to each other they always shake hands.\n\nWhen a gentleman is introduced to a lady, she sometimes puts out her\nhand--especially if he is some one she has long heard about from friends\nin common, but to an entire stranger she generally merely bows her head\nslightly and says: \"How do you do!\" Strictly speaking, it is always her\nplace to offer her hand or not as she chooses, but if he puts out his\nhand, it is rude on her part to ignore it. Nothing could be more ill-bred\nthan to treat curtly any overture made in spontaneous friendliness. No\nthoroughbred lady would ever refuse to shake any hand that is honorable,\nnot even the hand of a coal heaver at the risk of her fresh white glove.\n\nThose who have been drawn into a conversation do not usually shake hands\non parting. But there is no fixed rule. A lady sometimes shakes hands\nafter talking with a casual stranger; at other times she does not offer\nher hand on parting from one who has been punctiliously presented to her.\nShe may find the former sympathetic and the latter very much the contrary.\n\nVery few rules of etiquette are inelastic and none more so than the\nacceptance or rejection of the strangers you meet.\n\nThere is a wide distance between rudeness and reserve. You can be\ncourteously polite and at the same time extremely aloof to a stranger who\ndoes not appeal to you, or you can be welcomingly friendly to another whom\nyou like on sight. Individual temperament has also to be taken into\nconsideration: one person is naturally austere, another genial. The latter\nshakes hands far more often than the former. As already said, it is\nunforgivably rude to refuse a proffered hand, but it is rarely necessary\nto offer your hand if you prefer not to.\n\n\n=WHAT TO SAY WHEN INTRODUCED=\n\nBest Society has only one phrase in acknowledgment of an introduction:\n\"How do you do?\" It literally accepts no other. When Mr. Bachelor says,\n\"Mrs. Worldly, may I present Mr. Struthers?\" Mrs. Worldly says, \"How do\nyou do?\" Struthers bows, and says nothing. To sweetly echo \"Mr.\nStruthers?\" with a rising inflection on \"--thers?\" is not good form.\nSaccharine chirpings should be classed with crooked little fingers, high\nhand-shaking and other affectations. All affectations are bad form.\n\nPersons of position do not say: \"Charmed,\" or \"Pleased to meet you,\" etc.,\nbut often the first remark is the beginning of a conversation. For\ninstance,\n\nYoung Struthers is presented to Mrs. Worldly. She smiles and perhaps says,\n\"I hear that you are going to be in New York all winter?\" Struthers\nanswers, \"Yes, I am at the Columbia Law School,\" etc., or since he is much\nyounger than she, he might answer, \"Yes, Mrs. Worldly,\" especially if his\nanswer would otherwise be a curt yes or no. Otherwise he does not continue\nrepeating her name.\n\nTAKING LEAVE OF ONE YOU HAVE JUST MET\n\nAfter an introduction, when you have talked for some time to a stranger\nwhom you have found agreeable, and you then take leave, you say, \"Good-by,\nI am very glad to have met you,\" or \"Good-by, I hope I shall see you again\nsoon\"--or \"some time.\" The other person answers, \"Thank you,\" or perhaps\nadds, \"I hope so, too.\" Usually \"Thank you\" is all that is necessary.\n\nIn taking leave of a group of strangers--it makes no difference whether\nyou have been introduced to them or merely included in their\nconversation--you bow \"good-by\" to any who happen to be looking at you,\nbut you do not attempt to attract the attention of those who are unaware\nthat you are turning away.\n\n\n=INTRODUCING ONE PERSON TO A GROUP=\n\nThis is never done on formal occasions when a great many persons are\npresent. At a small luncheon, for instance, a hostess always introduces\nher guests to one another.\n\nLet us suppose you are the hostess: your position is not necessarily near,\nbut it is toward the door. Mrs. King is sitting quite close to you, Mrs.\nLawrence also near. Miss Robinson and Miss Brown are much farther away.\n\nMrs. Jones enters. You go a few steps forward and shake hands with her,\nthen stand aside as it were, for a second only, to see if Mrs. Jones goes\nto speak to any one. If she apparently knows no one, you say,\n\n\"Mrs. King, do you know Mrs. Jones?\" Mrs. King being close at hand\n(usually but not necessarily) rises, shakes hands with Mrs. Jones and sits\ndown again. If Mrs. King is an elderly lady, and Mrs. Jones a young one,\nMrs. King merely extends her hand and does not rise. Having said \"Mrs.\nJones\" once, you do not repeat it immediately, but turning to the other\nlady sitting near you, you say, \"Mrs. Lawrence,\" then you look across the\nroom and continue, \"Miss Robinson, Miss Brown--Mrs. Jones!\" Mrs. Lawrence,\nif she is young, rises and shakes hands with Mrs. Jones, and the other two\nbow but do not rise.\n\nAt a very big luncheon you would introduce Mrs. Jones to Mrs. King and\npossibly to Mrs. Lawrence, so that Mrs. Jones might have some one to talk\nto. But if other guests come in at this moment, Mrs. Jones finds a place\nfor herself and after a pause, falls naturally into conversation with\nthose she is next to, without giving her name or asking theirs.\n\nA friend's roof is supposed to be an introduction to those it shelters. In\nBest Society this is always recognized if the gathering is intimate, such\nas at a luncheon, dinner or house party; but it is not accepted at a ball\nor reception, or any \"general\" entertainment. People always talk to their\nneighbors at table whether introduced or not. It would be a breach of\netiquette not to! But if Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Norman merely spoke to each\nother for a few moments, in the drawing-room, it is not necessary that\nthey recognize each other afterwards.\n\n\n=NEW YORK'S BAD MANNERS=\n\nNew York's bad manners are often condemned and often very deservedly. Even\nthough the cause is carelessness rather than intentional indifference, the\nindifference is no less actual and the rudeness inexcusable.\n\nIt is by no means unheard of that after sitting at table next to the guest\nof honor, a New Yorker will meet her the next day with utter\nunrecognition. Not because the New Yorker means to \"cut\" the stranger or\nfeels the slightest unwillingness to continue the acquaintance, but\nbecause few New Yorkers possess enthusiasm enough to make an effort to\nremember all the new faces they come in contact with, but allow all those\nwho are not especially \"fixed\" in their attention, to drift easily out of\nmind and recognition. It is mortifyingly true; no one is so ignorantly\nindifferent to everything outside his or her own personal concern as the\nsocially fashionable New Yorker, unless it is the Londoner! The late\nTheodore Roosevelt was a brilliantly shining exception. And, of course,\nand happily, there are other men and women like him in this. But there are\nalso enough of the snail-in-shell variety to give color to the very just\nresentment that those from other and more gracious cities hold against New\nYorkers.\n\nEverywhere else in the world (except London), the impulse of\nself-cultivation, if not the more generous ones of consideration and\nhospitality, induces people of good breeding to try and make the effort to\nfind out what manner of mind, or experience, or talent, a stranger has;\nand to remember, at least out of courtesy, anyone for whose benefit a\nfriend of theirs gave a dinner or luncheon. To fashionable New York,\nhowever, luncheon was at one-thirty; at three there is something else\noccupying the moment--that is all.\n\nNearly all people of the Atlantic Coast dislike general introductions, and\npresent people to each other as little as possible. In the West, however,\npeople do not feel comfortable in a room full of strangers. Whether or not\nto introduce people therefore becomes not merely a question of propriety,\nbut of consideration for local custom.\n\n\n=NEVER INTRODUCE UNNECESSARILY=\n\nThe question as to when introductions should be made, or not made, is one\nof the most elusive points in the entire range of social knowledge.\n\"Whenever necessary to bridge an awkward situation,\" is a definition that\nis exact enough, but not very helpful or clear. The hostess who allows a\nguest to stand, awkward and unknown, in the middle of her drawing-room is\nno worse than she who pounces on every chance acquaintance and drags\nunwilling victims into forced recognition of each other, everywhere and on\nall occasions. The fundamental rule never to introduce unnecessarily\nbrings up the question:\n\n\n=WHICH ARE THE NECESSARY OCCASIONS?=\n\nFirst, in order of importance, is the presentation of everyone to guests\nof honor, whether the \"guests\" are distinguished strangers for whom a\ndinner is given, or a bride and groom, or a d\u00e9butante being introduced to\nsociety. It is the height of rudeness for anyone to go to an entertainment\ngiven in honor of some one and fail to \"meet\" him. (Even though one's\nmemory is too feeble to remember him afterward!)\n\n\n=INTRODUCTIONS AT A DINNER=\n\nThe host must always see that every gentleman either knows or is presented\nto the lady he is to \"take in\" to dinner, and also, if possible, to the\none who is to sit at the other side of him. If the latter introduction is\noverlooked, people sitting next each other at table nearly always\nintroduce themselves. A gentleman says, \"How do you do, Mrs. Jones. I am\nArthur Robinson.\" Or showing her his place card, \"I have to introduce\nmyself, this is my name.\" Or the lady says first, \"I am Mrs. Hunter\nJones.\" And the man answers, \"How do you do, Mrs. Jones, my name is\nTitherington Smith.\"\n\nIt is not unusual, in New York, for those placed next each other to talk\nwithout introducing themselves--particularly if each can read the name of\nthe other on the place cards.\n\n\n=OTHER NECESSARY INTRODUCTIONS=\n\nEven in New York's most introductionless circles, people always introduce:\n\nA small group of people who are to sit together anywhere.\n\nPartners at dinner.\n\nThe guests at a house party.\n\nEveryone at a small dinner or luncheon.\n\nThe four who are at the same bridge table.\n\nPartners or fellow-players in any game.\n\nAt a dance, when an invitation has been asked for a stranger, the friend\nwho vouched for him should personally present him to the hostess. \"Mrs.\nWorldly, this is Mr. Robinson, whom you said I might bring.\" The hostess\nshakes hands and smiles and says: \"I am very glad to see you, Mr.\nRobinson.\"\n\nA guest in a box at the opera always introduces any gentleman who comes to\nspeak to her, to her hostess, unless the latter is engrossed in\nconversation with a visitor of her own, or unless other people block the\ndistance between so that an introduction would be forced and awkward.\n\nA newly arriving visitor in a lady's drawing-room is not introduced to\nanother who is taking leave. Nor is an animated conversation between two\npersons interrupted to introduce a third. Nor is any one ever led around a\nroom and introduced right and left.\n\nIf two ladies or young girls are walking together and they meet a third\nwho stops to speak to one of them, the other walks slowly on and does not\nstand awkwardly by and wait for an introduction. If the third is asked by\nthe one she knows, to join them, the sauntering friend is overtaken and an\nintroduction always made. The third, however, must not join them unless\ninvited to do so.\n\nAt a very large dinner, people (excepting the gentlemen and ladies who are\nto sit next to each other at table) are not collectively introduced. After\ndinner, men in the smoking room or left at table always talk to their\nneighbors whether they have been introduced or not, and ladies in the\ndrawing-room do the same. But unless they meet soon again, or have found\neach other so agreeable that they make an effort to continue the\nacquaintance, they become strangers again, equally whether they were\nintroduced or not.\n\nSome writers on etiquette speak of \"correct introductions\" that carry\n\"obligations of future acquaintance,\" and \"incorrect introductions,\" that\nseemingly obligate one to nothing.\n\nDegrees of introduction are utterly unknown to best society. It makes not\nthe slightest difference so far as any one's acceptance or rejection of\nanother is concerned how an introduction is worded or, on occasions,\nwhether an introduction takes place at all.\n\nFashionable people in very large cities take introductions lightly; they\nare veritable ships that pass in the night. They show their red or green\nsignals--which are merely polite sentences and pleasant manners--and they\npass on again.\n\nWhen you are introduced to some one for the second time and the first\noccasion was without interest and long ago, there is no reason why you\nshould speak of the former meeting.\n\nIf some one presents you to Mrs. Smith for the second time on the same\noccasion, you smile and say \"I have already met Mrs. Smith,\" but you say\nnothing if you met Mrs. Smith long ago and she showed no interest in you\nat that time.\n\nMost rules are elastic and contract and expand according to circumstances.\nYou do not remind Mrs. Smith of having met her before, but on meeting\nagain any one who was brought to your own house, or one who showed you an\nespecial courtesy you instinctively say, \"I am so glad to see you again.\"\n\n\n=INCLUDING SOMEONE IN CONVERSATION WITHOUT AN INTRODUCTION=\n\nOn occasions it happens that in talking to one person you want to include\nanother in your conversation without making an introduction. For instance:\nsuppose you are talking to a seedsman and a friend joins you in your\ngarden. You greet your friend, and then include her by saying, \"Mr. Smith\nis suggesting that I dig up these cannas and put in delphiniums.\" Whether\nyour friend gives an opinion as to the change in color of your flower bed\nor not, she has been made part of your conversation.\n\nThis same maneuver of evading an introduction is also resorted to when you\nare not sure that an acquaintance will be agreeable to one or both of\nthose whom an accidental circumstance has brought together.\n\n\n=INTRODUCTIONS UNNECESSARY=\n\nYou must never introduce people to each other in public places unless you\nare certain beyond a doubt that the introduction will be agreeable to\nboth. You cannot commit a greater social blunder than to introduce, to a\nperson of position, some one she does not care to know, especially on\nshipboard, in hotels, or in other very small, rather public, communities\nwhere people are so closely thrown together that it is correspondingly\ndifficult to avoid undesirable acquaintances who have been given the wedge\nof an introduction.\n\nAs said above, introductions in very large cities are unimportant. In New\nYork, where people are meeting new faces daily, seldom seeing the same one\ntwice in a year, it requires a tenacious memory to recognize those one\nhoped most to see again, and others are blotted out at once.\n\nPeople in good society rarely ask to be introduced to each other, but if\nthere is a good reason for knowing some one, they often introduce\nthemselves; for instance, Mary Smith says:\n\n\"Mrs. Jones, aren't you a friend of my mother's? I am Mrs. Titherington\nSmith's daughter.\" Mrs. Jones says:\n\n\"Why, my dear child, I am so glad you spoke to me. Your mother and I have\nknown each other since we were children!\"\n\nOr, an elder lady asks: \"Aren't you Mary Smith? I have known your mother\nsince she was your age.\" Or a young woman says: \"Aren't you Mrs. Worldly?\"\nMrs. Worldly, looking rather freezingly, politely says \"Yes\" and waits.\nAnd the stranger continues, \"I think my sister Millicent Manners is a\nfriend of yours.\" Mrs. Worldly at once unbends. \"Oh, yes, indeed, I am\ndevoted to Millicent! And you must be ----?\"\n\n\"I'm Alice.\"\n\n\"Oh, of course, Millicent has often talked of you, and of your lovely\nvoice. I want very much to hear you sing some time.\"\n\nThese self-introductions, however, must never presumingly be made. It\nwould be in very bad taste for Alice to introduce herself to Mrs. Worldly\nif her sister knew her only slightly.\n\n\n=A BUSINESS VISIT NOT AN INTRODUCTION=\n\nA lady who goes to see another to get a reference for a servant, or to ask\nher aid in an organization for charity, would never consider such a\nmeeting as an introduction, even though they talked for an hour. Nor would\nshe offer to shake hands in leaving. On the other hand, neighbors who are\ncontinually meeting, gradually become accustomed to say \"How do you do?\"\nwhen they meet, even though they never become acquaintances.\n\n\n=THE RETORT COURTEOUS TO ONE YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN=\n\nLet us suppose some one addresses you, and then slightly disconcerted\nsays: \"You don't remember me, do you?\" The polite thing--unless his manner\ndoes not ring true, is to say \"Why, of course, I do.\" And then if a few\nneutral remarks lead to no enlightening topic, and bring no further\nmemory, you ask at the first opportunity who it was that addressed you. If\nthe person should prove actually to be unknown, it is very easy to repel\nany further advances. But nearly always you find it is some one you ought\nto have known, and your hiding the fact of your forgetfulness saves you\nfrom the rather rude and stupid situation of blankly declaring: \"I don't\nremember you.\"\n\nIf, after being introduced to you, Mr. Jones calls you by a wrong name,\nyou let it pass, at first, but if he persists you may say: \"My name is\nSimpson, not Simpkin.\"\n\nAt a private dance, young men nowadays introduce their men friends to\nyoung women without first asking the latter's permission, because all\nthose invited to a lady's house are supposed to be eligible for\npresentation to everyone, or they would not be there.\n\nAt a public ball young men and women keep very much to their own\nparticular small circle and are not apt to meet outsiders at all. Under\nthese circumstances a gentleman should be very careful not to introduce a\nyouth whom he knows nothing about to a lady of his acquaintance--or at\nleast he should ask her first. He can say frankly: \"There is a man called\nSliders who has asked to meet you. I don't know who he is, but he seems\ndecent. Shall I introduce him?\" The lady can say \"Yes\"; or, \"I'd rather\nnot.\"\n\n\n=INTRODUCTION BY LETTER=\n\nAn introduction by letter is far more binding than a casual spoken\nintroduction which commits you to nothing. This is explained fully and\nexample letters are given in the chapter on Letters.\n\nA letter of introduction is handed you unsealed, always. It is correct for\nyou to seal it at once in the presence of its author. You thank your\nfriend for having written it and go on your journey.\n\nIf you are a man and your introduction is to a lady, you go to her house\nas soon as you arrive in her city, and leave the letter with your card at\nher door. Usually you do not ask to see her; but if it is between four and\nsix o'clock it is quite correct to do so if you choose. Presenting\nyourself with a letter is always a little awkward. Most people prefer to\nleave their cards without asking to be received.\n\nIf your letter is to a man, you mail it to his house, unless the letter is\na business one. In the latter case you go to his office, and send in your\ncard and the letter. Meanwhile you wait in the reception room until he has\nread the letter and sends for you to come into his private office.\n\nIf you are a woman, you mail your letter of social introduction and do\nnothing further until you receive an acknowledgment. If the recipient of\nyour letter leaves her card on you, you in return leave yours on her. But\nthe obligation of a written introduction is such that only illness can\nexcuse her not asking you to her house--either formally or informally.\n\nWhen a man receives a letter introducing another man, he calls the person\nintroduced on the telephone and asks how he may be of service to him. If\nhe does not invite the newcomer to his house, he may put him up at his\nclub, or have him take luncheon or dinner at a restaurant, as the\ncircumstances seem to warrant.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nGREETINGS\n\n\n=WHAT TO SAY WHEN INTRODUCED=\n\nAs explained in the foregoing chapter, the correct formal greeting is:\n\"How do you do?\" If Mrs. Younger is presented to Mrs. Worldly, Mrs.\nWorldly says \"How do you do?\" If the Ambassador of France is presented to\nher, she says \"How do you do?\" Mrs. Younger and the Ambassador likewise\nsay \"How do you do?\" or merely bow.\n\nThere are a few expressions possible under other circumstances and upon\nother occasions. If you have, through friends in common, long heard of a\ncertain lady, or gentleman, and you know that she, or he, also has heard\nmuch of you, you may say when you are introduced to her: \"I am very glad\nto meet you,\" or \"I am delighted to meet you at last!\" Do not use the\nexpression \"pleased to meet you\" then or on any occasion. And you must not\nsay you are delighted unless you have reason to be sure that she also is\ndelighted to meet you.\n\nTo one who has volunteered to help you in charitable work for instance,\nyou would say: \"It is very good of you to help us,\" or, \"to join us.\"\n\nIn business a gentleman says: \"Very glad to meet you,\" or \"Delighted to\nmeet you.\" Or, if in his own office: \"Very glad to see you!\"\n\n\n=INFORMAL GREETINGS=\n\nInformal greetings are almost as limited as formal, but not quite; for\nbesides saying \"How do you do?\" you can say \"Good morning\" and on\noccasions \"How are you?\" or \"Good evening.\"\n\nOn very informal occasions, it is the present fashion to greet an intimate\nfriend with \"Hello!\" This seemingly vulgar salutation is made acceptable\nby the tone in which it is said. To shout \"Hul_low_!\" is vulgar, but\n\"Hello, Mary\" or \"How 'do John,\" each spoken in an ordinary tone of voice,\nsound much the same. But remember that the \"Hello\" is spoken, not called\nout, and never used except between intimate friends who call each other by\nthe first name.\n\nThere are only two forms of farewell: \"Good-by\" and \"Good night.\" Never\nsay \"Au revoir\" unless you have been talking French, or are speaking to a\nFrench person. Never interlard your conversation with foreign words or\nphrases when you can possibly translate them into English; and the\noccasions when our mother tongue will not serve are extremely rare.\n\nVery often in place of the over-worn \"How do you do,\" perhaps more often\nthan not, people skip the words of actual greeting and plunge instead into\nconversation: \"Why, Mary! When did you get back?\" or \"What is the news\nwith you?\" or \"What have you been doing lately?\" The weather, too, fills\nin with equal faithfulness. \"Isn't it a heavenly day!\" or \"Horrid weather,\nisn't it?\" It would seem that the variability of the weather was purposely\ndevised to furnish mankind with unfailing material for conversation.\n\nIn bidding good-by to a new acquaintance with whom you have been talking,\nyou shake hands and say, \"Good-by. I am very glad to have met you.\" To one\nwho has been especially interesting, or who is somewhat of a personage you\nsay: \"It has been a great pleasure to meet you.\" The other answers: \"Thank\nyou.\"\n\n\n=IN CHURCH=\n\nPeople do not greet each other in church, except at a wedding. At weddings\npeople do speak to friends sitting near them, but in a low tone of voice.\nIt would be shocking to enter a church and hear a babel of voices!\n\nOrdinarily in church if a friend happens to catch your eye, you smile, but\nnever actually bow. If you go to a church not your own and a stranger\noffers you a seat in her pew, you should, on leaving, turn to her and\nsay: \"Thank you.\" But you do not greet anyone until you are out on the\nchurch steps, when you naturally speak to your friends. \"Hello\" should not\nbe said on this occasion because it is too \"familiar\" for the solemnity of\nchurch surroundings.\n\n\n=SHAKING HANDS=\n\nGentlemen always shake hands when they are introduced to each other.\nLadies rarely do so with gentlemen who are introduced to them; but they\nusually shake hands with other ladies, if they are standing near together.\nAll people who know each other, unless merely passing by, shake hands when\nthey meet.\n\nA gentleman on the street never shakes hands with a lady without first\nremoving his right glove. But at the opera, or at a ball, or if he is\nusher at a wedding, he keeps his glove on.\n\n\n=PERSONALITY OF A HANDSHAKE=\n\nA handshake often creates a feeling of liking or of irritation between two\nstrangers. Who does not dislike a \"boneless\" hand extended as though it\nwere a spray of sea-weed, or a miniature boiled pudding? It is equally\nannoying to have one's hand clutched aloft in grotesque affectation and\nshaken violently sideways, as though it were being used to clean a spot\nout of the atmosphere. What woman does not wince at the viselike grasp\nthat cuts her rings into her flesh and temporarily paralyzes every finger?\n\nThe proper handshake is made briefly; but there should be a feeling of\nstrength and warmth in the clasp, and, as in bowing, one should at the\nsame time look into the countenance of the person whose hand one takes. In\ngiving her hand to a foreigner, a married woman always relaxes her arm and\nfingers, as it is customary for him to lift her hand to his lips. But by a\nrelaxed hand is not meant a wet rag; a hand should have life even though\nit be passive. A woman should always allow a man who is only an\nacquaintance to shake her hand; she should never shake his. To a very old\nfriend she gives a much firmer clasp, but he shakes her hand more than she\nshakes his. Younger women usually shake the hand of the older; or they\nboth merely clasp hands, give them a dropping movement rather than a\nshake, and let go.\n\n\n=POLITE GREETINGS FROM YOUNGER TO OLDER=\n\nIt is the height of rudeness for young people not to go and shake hands\nwith an older lady of their acquaintance when they meet her away from\nhome, if she is a hostess to whose house they have often gone. It is not\nat all necessary for either young women or young men to linger and enter\ninto a conversation, unless the older lady detains them, which she should\nnot do beyond the briefest minute.\n\nOlder ladies who are always dragging young men up to unprepossessing\npartners, are studiously avoided and with reason; but otherwise it is\ninexcusable for any youth to fail in this small exaction of polite\nbehavior. If a young man is talking with some one when an older lady\nenters the room, he bows formally from where he is, as it would be rude to\nleave a young girl standing alone while he went up to speak to Mrs.\nWorldly or Mrs. Toplofty. But a young girl passing near an older lady can\neasily stop for a moment, say \"How do you do, Mrs. Jones!\" and pass on.\n\nPeople do not cross a room to speak to any one unless--to show politeness\nto an acquaintance who is a stranger there; to speak to an intimate\nfriend; or to talk to some one about something in particular.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nSALUTATIONS OF COURTESY\n\n\n=WHEN A GENTLEMAN TAKES OFF HIS HAT=\n\nA gentleman takes off his hat and holds it in his hand when a lady enters\nthe elevator in which he is a passenger, but he puts it on again in the\ncorridor. A public corridor is like the street, but an elevator is\nsuggestive of a room, and a gentleman does not keep his hat on in the\npresence of ladies in a house.\n\nThis is the rule in elevators in hotels, clubs and apartments. In office\nbuildings and stores the elevator is considered as public a place as the\ncorridor. What is more, the elevators in such business structures are\nusually so crowded that the only room for a man's hat is on his head. But\neven under these conditions a gentleman can reveal his innate respect for\nwomen by not permitting himself to be crowded too near to them.\n\nWhen a gentleman stops to speak to a lady of his acquaintance in the\nstreet, he takes his hat off with his left hand, leaving his right free to\nshake hands, or he takes it off with his right and transfers it to his\nleft. If he has a stick, he puts his stick in his left hand, takes off his\nhat with his right, transfers his hat also to his left hand, and gives her\nhis right. If they walk ahead together, he at once puts his hat on; but\nwhile he is standing in the street talking to her, he should remain\nhatless. There is no rudeness greater than for him to stand talking to a\nlady with his hat on, and a cigar or cigarette in his mouth.\n\nA gentleman always rises when a lady comes into a room. In public places\nmen do not jump up for every strange woman who happens to approach. But if\nany woman addresses a remark to him, a gentleman at once rises to his\nfeet as he answers her. In a restaurant, when a lady bows to him, a\ngentleman merely makes the gesture of rising by getting up half way from\nhis chair and at the same time bowing. Then he sits down again.\n\nWhen a lady goes to a gentleman's office on business he should stand up to\nreceive her, offer her a chair, and not sit down until after she is\nseated. When she rises to leave, he must get up instantly and stand until\nshe has left the office.\n\nIt is not necessary to add that every American citizen stands with his hat\noff at the passing of the \"colors\" and when the national anthem is played.\nIf he didn't, some other more loyal citizen would take it off for him.\nAlso every man should stand with his hat off in the presence of a funeral\nthat passes close or blocks his way.\n\n\n=A GENTLEMAN LIFTS HIS HAT=\n\nLifting the hat is a conventional gesture of politeness shown to strangers\nonly, not to be confused with bowing, which is a gesture used to\nacquaintances and friends. In lifting his hat, a gentleman merely lifts it\nslightly off his forehead and replaces it; he does not smile nor bow, nor\neven look at the object of his courtesy. No gentleman ever subjects a lady\nto his scrutiny or his apparent observation.\n\nIf a lady drops her glove, a gentleman should pick it up, hurry ahead of\nher--on no account nudge her--offer the glove to her and say: \"I think you\ndropped this!\" The lady replies: \"Thank you.\" The gentleman should then\nlift his hat and turn away.\n\nIf he passes a lady in a narrow space, so that he blocks her way or in any\nmanner obtrudes upon her, he lifts his hat as he passes.\n\nIf he gets on a street car and the car gives a lurch just as he is about\nto be seated and throws him against another passenger, he lifts his hat\nand says \"Excuse me!\" or \"I beg your pardon!\" He must _not_ say \"Pardon\n_me_!\" He must not take a seat if there are ladies standing. But if he is\nsitting and ladies enter, should they be young, he may with perfect\npropriety keep his seat. If a very old woman, or a young one carrying a\nbaby, enters the car, a gentleman rises at once, lifts his hat slightly,\nand says: \"Please take my seat.\" He lifts his hat again when she thanks\nhim.\n\nIf the car is very crowded when he wishes to leave it and a lady is\ndirectly in his way, he asks: \"May I get through, please?\" As she makes\nroom for him to pass, he lifts his hat and says: \"Thank you!\"\n\nIf he is in the company of a lady in a street car, he lifts his hat to\nanother gentleman who offers her a seat, picks up something she has\ndropped, or shows her any civility.\n\nHe lifts his hat if he asks anyone a question, and always, if, when\nwalking on the street with either a lady or a gentleman, his companion\nbows to another person. In other words, a gentleman lifts his hat whenever\nhe says \"Excuse me,\" \"Thank you,\" or speaks to a stranger, or is spoken to\nby a lady, or by an older gentleman. And no gentleman ever keeps a pipe,\ncigar or cigarette in his mouth when he lifts his hat, takes it off, or\nbows.\n\n\n=THE BOW OF CEREMONY=\n\nThe standing bow, made by a gentleman when he rises at a dinner to say a\nfew words, in response to applause, or across a drawing-room at a formal\ndinner when he bows to a lady or an elderly gentleman, is usually the\noutcome of the bow taught little boys at dancing school. The instinct of\nclicking heels together and making a quick bend over from the hips and\nneck, as though the human body had two hinges, a big one at the hip and a\nslight one at the neck, and was quite rigid in between, remains in a\nmodified form through life. The man who as a child came habitually into\nhis mother's drawing-room when there was \"company,\" generally makes a\ncharming bow when grown, which is wholly lacking in self-consciousness.\nThere is no apparent \"heel-clicking\" but a camera would show that the\nmotion is there.\n\nIn every form of bow, as distinct from merely lifting his hat, a\ngentleman looks at the person he is bowing to. In a very formal standing\nbow, his heels come together, his knees are rigid and his expression is\nrather serious.\n\n\n=THE INFORMAL BOW=\n\nThe informal bow is merely a modification of the above; it is easy and\nunstudied, but it should suggest the ease of controlled muscles, not the\nfloppiness of a rag doll.\n\nIn bowing on the street, a gentleman should never take his hat off with a\nflourish, nor should he sweep it down to his knee; nor is it graceful to\nbow by pulling the hat over the face as though examining the lining. The\ncorrect bow, when wearing a high hat or derby, is to lift it by holding\nthe brim directly in front, take it off merely high enough to escape the\nhead easily, bring it a few inches forward, the back somewhat up, the\nfront down, and put it on again. To a very old lady or gentleman, to show\nadequate respect, a sweeping bow is sometimes made by a somewhat\nexaggerated circular motion downward to perhaps the level of the waist, so\nthat the hat's position is upside down.\n\nIf a man is wearing a soft hat he takes it by the crown instead of the\nbrim, lifts it slightly off his head and puts it on again.\n\nThe bow to a friend is made with a smile, to a very intimate friend often\nwith a broad grin that fits exactly with the word \"Hello\"; whereas the\nformal bow is mentally accompanied by the formal salutation: \"How do you\ndo!\"\n\n\n=THE BOW OF A WOMAN OF CHARM=\n\nThe reputation of Southern women for having the gift of fascination is\nperhaps due not to prettiness of feature more than to the brilliancy or\nsweetness of their ready smile. That Southern women are charming and\n\"feminine\" and lovable is proverbial. How many have noticed that Southern\nwomen always bow with the grace of a flower bending in the breeze and a\nsmile like sudden sunshine? The unlovely woman bows as though her head\nwere on a hinge and her smile sucked through a lemon.\n\nNothing is so easy for any woman to acquire as a charming bow. It is such\na short and fleeting duty. Not a bit of trouble really; just to incline\nyour head and spontaneously smile as though you thought \"Why, _there_ is\nMrs. Smith! How glad I am to see her!\"\n\nEven to a stranger who does her a favor, a woman of charm always smiles as\nshe says \"Thank you!\" As a possession for either woman or man, a ready\nsmile is more valuable in life than a ready wit; the latter may sometimes\nbring enemies, but the former always brings friends.\n\n\n=WHEN TO BOW=\n\nUnder formal circumstances a lady is supposed to bow to a gentleman first;\nbut people who know each other well bow spontaneously without observing\nthis etiquette.\n\nIn meeting the same person many times within an hour or so, one does not\ncontinue to bow after the second, or at most third meeting. After that one\neither looks away or merely smiles. Unless one has a good memory for\npeople, it is always better to bow to some one whose face is familiar than\nto run the greater risk of ignoring an acquaintance.\n\n\n=THE \"CUT DIRECT\"=\n\nFor one person to look directly at another and not acknowledge the other's\nbow is such a breach of civility that only an unforgivable misdemeanor can\nwarrant the rebuke. Nor without the gravest cause may a lady \"cut\" a\ngentleman. But there are no circumstances under which a gentleman may\n\"cut\" any woman who, even by courtesy, can be called a lady.\n\nOn the other hand, one must not confuse absent-mindedness, or a forgetful\nmemory with an intentional \"cut.\" Anyone who is preoccupied is apt to pass\nothers without being aware of them, and without the least want of\nfriendly regard. Others who have bad memories forget even those by whom\nthey were much attracted. This does not excuse the bad memory, but it\nexplains the seeming rudeness.\n\nA \"cut\" is very different. It is a direct stare of blank refusal, and is\nnot only insulting to its victim but embarrassing to every witness.\nHappily it is practically unknown in polite society.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nON THE STREET AND IN PUBLIC\n\n\n=WALKING ON THE STREET=\n\nA gentleman, whether walking with two ladies or one, takes the curb side\nof the pavement. He should never sandwich himself between them.\n\nA young man walking with a young woman should be careful that his manner\nin no way draws attention to her or to himself. Too devoted a manner is\nalways conspicuous, and so is loud talking. Under no circumstances should\nhe take her arm, or grasp her by or above the elbow, and shove her here\nand there, unless, of course, to save her from being run over! He should\nnot walk along hitting things with his stick. The small boy's delight in\ndrawing a stick along a picket fence should be curbed in the nursery! And\nit is scarcely necessary to add that no gentleman walks along the street\nchewing gum or, if he is walking with a lady, puffing a cigar or\ncigarette.\n\nAll people in the streets, or anywhere in public, should be careful not to\ntalk too loud. They should especially avoid pronouncing people's names, or\nmaking personal remarks that may attract passing attention or give a clue\nto themselves.\n\nOne should never call out a name in public, unless it is absolutely\nunavoidable. A young girl who was separated from her friends in a baseball\ncrowd had the presence of mind to put her hat on her parasol and lift it\nabove the people surrounding her so that her friends might find her.\n\nDo not attract attention to yourself in public. This is one of the\nfundamental rules of good breeding. Shun conspicuous manners, conspicuous\nclothes, a loud voice, staring at people, knocking into them, talking\nacross anyone--in a word do not attract attention to yourself. Do not\nexpose your private affairs, feelings or innermost thoughts in public. You\nare knocking down the walls of your house when you do.\n\n\n=GENTLEMEN AND BUNDLES=\n\nNearly all books on etiquette insist that a \"gentleman must offer to carry\na lady's bundles.\" Bundles do not suggest a lady in the first place, and\nas for gentlemen and bundles!--they don't go together at all. Very neat\npackages that could never without injury to their pride be designated as\n\"bundles\" are different. Such, for instance, might be a square, smoothly\nwrapped box of cigars, candy, or books. Also, a gentleman might carry\nflowers, or a basket of fruit, or, in fact, any package that looks\ntempting. He might even stagger under bags and suitcases, or a small\ntrunk--but carry a \"bundle\"? Not twice! And yet, many an unknowing woman,\nsometimes a very young and pretty one, too, has asked a relative, a\nneighbor, or an admirer, to carry something suggestive of a pillow, done\nup in crinkled paper and odd lengths of joined string. Then she wonders\nafterwards in unenlightened surprise why her cousin, or her neighbor, or\nher admirer, who is one of the smartest men in town, never comes to see\nher any more!\n\n\n=A GENTLEMAN OFFERS HIS ARM=\n\nTo an old lady or to an invalid a gentleman offers his arm if either of\nthem wants his support. Otherwise a lady no longer leans upon a gentleman\nin the daytime, unless to cross a very crowded thoroughfare, or to be\nhelped over a rough piece of road, or under other impeding circumstances.\nIn accompanying a lady anywhere at night, whether down the steps of a\nhouse, or from one building to another, or when walking a distance, a\ngentleman always offers his arm. The reason is that in her thin\nhigh-heeled slippers, and when it is too dark to see her foothold clearly,\nshe is likely to trip.\n\nUnder any of these circumstances when he proffers his assistance, he\nmight say: \"Don't you think you had better take my arm? You might trip.\"\nOr--\"Wouldn't it be easier if you took my arm along here? The going is\npretty bad.\" Otherwise the only occasions on which a gentleman offers his\narm to a lady are in taking her in at a formal dinner, or taking her in to\nsupper at a ball, or when he is an usher at a wedding. Even in walking\nacross a ballroom, except at a public ball in the grand march, it is the\npresent fashion for the younger generation to walk side by side, never arm\nin arm. This, however, is merely an instance where etiquette and the\ncustom of the moment differ. Old-fashioned gentlemen still offer their\narm, and it is, and long will be, in accordance with etiquette to do so.\nBut etiquette does _not_ permit a gentleman to take a lady's arm!\n\nIn seeing a lady to her carriage or motor, it is quite correct for a\ngentleman to put his hand under her elbow to assist her; and in helping\nher out he should alight first and offer her his hand. He should not hold\na parasol over her head unless momentarily while she searches in her\nwrist-bag for something, or stops perhaps to put on or take off her glove,\nor do anything that occupies both hands. With an umbrella the case is\ndifferent, especially in a sudden and driving rain, when she is often very\nbusily occupied in trying to hold \"good\" clothes out of the wet and a hat\non, as well. She may also, under these circumstances, take the gentleman's\narm, if the \"going\" is thereby made any easier.\n\n\n=A LADY NEVER \"ON THE LEFT\"=\n\nThe owner always sits on the right hand side of the rear seat of a\ncarriage or a motor, that is driven by a coachman or a chauffeur. If the\nvehicle belongs to a lady, she should take her own place always, unless\nshe relinquishes it to a guest whose rank is above her own, such as that\nof the wife of the President or the Governor. If a man is the owner, he\nmust, on the contrary, give a lady the right hand seat. Whether in a\nprivate carriage, a car or a taxi, a lady must _never_ sit on a\ngentleman's left; because according to European etiquette, a lady \"on the\nleft\" is _not_ a \"lady.\" Although this etiquette is not strictly observed\nin America, no gentleman should risk allowing even a single foreigner to\nmisinterpret a lady's position.\n\n\n=AWKWARD QUESTIONS OF PAYMENT=\n\nIt is becoming much less customary than it used to be for a gentleman to\noffer to pay a lady's way. If in taking a ferry or a subway, a young woman\nstops to buy magazines, chocolates, or other trifles, a young man\naccompanying her usually offers to pay for them. She quite as usually\nanswers: \"Don't bother, I have it!\" and puts the change on the counter. It\nwould be awkward for him to protest, and bad taste to press the point. But\nusually in small matters such as a subway fare, he pays for two. If he\ninvites her to go to a ball game, or to a matin\u00e9e or to tea, he naturally\nbuys the tickets and any refreshment which they may have.\n\nVery often it happens that a young woman and a young man who are bound for\nthe same house party, at a few hours' distance from the place where they\nboth live, take the same train--either by accident or by pre-arrangement.\nIn this case the young woman should pay for every item of her journey. She\nshould not let her companion pay for her parlor car seat or for her\nluncheon; nor should he, when they arrive at their destination, tip the\nporter for carrying her bag.\n\nA gentleman who is by chance sitting next to a lady of his acquaintance on\na train or boat, should never think of offering to pay for her seat or for\nanything she may buy from the vendor.\n\n\n=THE \"ESCORT\"=\n\nNotwithstanding the fact that he is met, all dressed in his best store\nclothes, with his \"lady friend\" leaning on his arm, in the pages of\ncounterfeit society novels and unauthoritative books on etiquette, there\nis no such actual person known to good society--at least not in New York\nor any great city--as an escort, he is not only unknown, but he is\nimpossible.\n\nIn good society ladies do not go about under the \"care of\" gentlemen! It\nis unheard of for a gentleman to \"take\" a young girl alone to a dance or\nto dine or to parties of any description; nor can she accept his\nsponsorship anywhere whatsoever. A well behaved young girl goes to public\ndances only when properly chaperoned and to a private dance with her\nmother or else accompanied by her maid, who waits for her the entire\nevening in the dressing room. It is not only improper, it is impossible\nfor any man to take a lady to a party of any sort, to which she has not\nbeen personally invited by the hostess.\n\nA lady may never be under the \"protection\" of a man _anywhere_! A young\ngirl is not even taken about by her betrothed. His friends send\ninvitations to her on his account, it is true, and, if possible, he\naccompanies her, but correct invitations must be sent by them to her, or\nshe should not go.\n\nOlder ladies are often thoughtless and say to a young man: \"Bring your\nfianc\u00e9e to see me!\" His answer should be: \"Indeed, I'd love to any time\nyou telephone her\"; or, \"I know she'd love to come if you'd ask her.\" If\nthe lady stupidly persists in casually saying, \"Do bring her,\" he must\nsmile and say lightly: \"But I can't bring her without an invitation from\nyou.\" Or, he merely evades the issue, and does not bring her.\n\n\n=THE RESTAURANT CHECK=\n\nEveryone has at some time or other been subjected to the awkward moment\nwhen the waiter presents the check to the host. For a host to count up the\nitems is suggestive of parsimony, while not to look at them is\ndisconcertingly reckless, and to pay before their faces for what his\nguests have eaten is embarrassing. Having the check presented to a hostess\nwhen gentlemen are among her guests, is more unpleasant. Therefore, to\navoid this whole transaction, people who have not charge accounts, should\norder the meal ahead, and at the same time pay for it in advance,\nincluding the waiter's tip. Charge customers should make arrangements to\nhave the check presented to them elsewhere than at table.\n\n\n=IN STORES OR SHOPS=\n\nLack of consideration for those who in any capacity serve you, is always\nan evidence of ill-breeding, as well as of inexcusable selfishness.\nOccasionally a so-called \"lady\" who has nothing whatever to do but drive\nuptown or down in her comfortable limousine, vents her irritability upon a\nsaleswoman at a crowded counter in a store, because she does not leave\nother customers and wait immediately upon her. Then, perhaps, when the\narticle she asked for is not to be had, she complains to the floor-walker\nabout the saleswoman's stupidity! Or having nothing that she can think of\nto occupy an empty hour on her hands, she demands that every sort of\nmaterial be dragged down from the shelves until, discovering that it is at\nlast time for her appointment, she yawns and leaves.\n\nOf course, on the other hand, there is the genuinely lethargic saleswoman\nwhose mind doesn't seem to register a single syllable that you have said\nto her; who, with complete indifference to you and your preferences,\ninsists on showing what you distinctly say you do not want, and who caps\nthe climax by drawling \"They\" are wearing it this season! Does that sort\nof saleswoman ever succeed in selling anything? Does anyone living buy\nanything because someone, who knows nothing, tells another, who is often\nan expert, what an indiscriminating \"They\" may be doing? That kind of a\nsaleswoman would try to tell Kreisler that \"They\" are not using violins\nthis season!\n\nThere are always two sides to the case, of course, and it is a credit to\ngood manners that there is scarcely ever any friction in stores and shops\nof the first class. Salesmen and women are usually persons who are both\npatient and polite, and their customers are most often ladies in fact as\nwell as \"by courtesy.\" Between those before and those behind the counters,\nthere has sprung up in many instances a relationship of mutual goodwill\nand friendliness. It is, in fact, only the woman who is afraid that\nsomeone may encroach upon her exceedingly insecure dignity, who shows\nneither courtesy nor consideration to any except those whom she considers\nit to her advantage to please.\n\n\n=REGARD FOR OTHERS=\n\nConsideration for the rights and feelings of others is not merely a rule\nfor behavior in public but the very foundation upon which social life is\nbuilt.\n\nRule of etiquette the first--which hundreds of others merely paraphrase or\nexplain or elaborate--is:\n\nNever do anything that is unpleasant to others.\n\nNever take more than your share--whether of the road in driving a car, of\nchairs on a boat or seats on a train, or food at the table.\n\nPeople who picnic along the public highway leaving a clutter of greasy\npaper and swill (not, a pretty name, but neither is it a pretty object!)\nfor other people to walk or drive past, and to make a breeding place for\nflies, and furnish nourishment for rats, choose a disgusting way to repay\nthe land-owner for the liberty they took in temporarily occupying his\nproperty.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nAT THE OPERA, THE THEATER, AND OTHER PUBLIC GATHERINGS\n\n\nExcepting a religious ceremonial, there is no occasion where greater\ndignity of manner is required of ladies and gentlemen both, than in\noccupying a box at the opera. For a gentleman especially no other\netiquette is so exacting.\n\nIn walking about in the foyer of the opera house, a gentleman leaves his\ncoat in the box--or in his orchestra chair--but he always wears his high\nhat. The \"collapsible\" hat is for use in the seats rather than in the\nboxes, but it can be worn perfectly well by a guest in the latter if he\nhasn't a \"silk\" one. A gentleman must always be in full dress, tail coat,\nwhite waistcoat, white tie and white gloves whether he is seated in the\norchestra or a box. He wears white gloves nowhere else except at a ball,\nor when usher at a wedding.\n\nAs people usually dine with their hostess before the opera, they arrive\ntogether; the gentlemen assist the ladies to lay off their wraps, one of\nthe gentlemen (whichever is nearest) draws back the curtain dividing the\nante-room from the box, and the ladies enter, followed by the gentlemen,\nthe last of whom closes the curtain again. If there are two ladies besides\nthe hostess, the latter places her most distinguished or older guest in\nthe corner nearest the stage. The seat furthest from the stage is always\nher own. The older guest takes her seat first, then the hostess takes her\nplace, whereupon the third lady goes forward in the center to the front of\nthe box, and stands until one of the gentlemen places a chair for her\nbetween the other two. (The chairs are arranged in three rows, of one on\neither side with an aisle left between.)\n\nOne of the duties of the gentlemen is to see that the curtains at the back\nof the box remain tightly closed, as the light from the ante-room shining\nin the faces of others in the audience across the house is very\ndisagreeable to them.\n\nA gentleman never sits in the front row of a box, even though he is for a\ntime alone in it.\n\n\n=AS TO VISITING=\n\nIt is the custom for a gentleman who is a guest in one box to pay visits\nto friends in other boxes during the entr'actes. He must visit none but\nladies of his acquaintance and must never enter a box in which he knows\nonly the gentlemen, and expect to be introduced to the ladies. If Arthur\nNorman, for instance, wishes to present a gentleman to Mrs. Gilding in her\nbox at the opera, he must first ask her if he may bring his friend James\nDawson. (He would on no account speak of him as Mr. Dawson unless he is an\nelderly person.) A lady's box at the opera is actually her house, and only\nthose who are acceptable as visitors in her house should ask to be\nadmitted.\n\nBut it is quite correct for a gentleman to go into a stranger's box to\nspeak to a lady who is a friend of his, just as he would go to see her if\nshe were staying in a stranger's house. But he should not go into the box\nof one he does not know, to speak to a lady with whom he has only a slight\nacquaintance, since visits are not paid quite so casually to ladies who\nare themselves visitors. Upon a gentleman's entering a box it is\nobligatory for whoever is sitting behind the lady to whom the arriving\ngentleman's visit is addressed, to relinquish his chair. Another point of\netiquette is that a gentleman must never leave the ladies of his own box\nalone. Occasionally it happens that the gentlemen in Mrs. Gilding's box,\nfor instance, have all relinquished their places to visitors and have\nthemselves gone to Mrs. Worldly's or Mrs. Jones' or Mrs. Town's boxes.\nMrs. Gilding's guests must, from the vantage point of the Worldly, Jones\nor Town boxes, keep a watchful eye on their hostess and instantly return\nto her support when they see her visitors about to leave, even though the\nladies whom they are momentarily visiting be left to themselves. It is of\ncourse the duty of the other gentlemen who came to the opera with Mrs.\nWorldly, Mrs. Jones or Mrs. Town to hurry to them.\n\nA gentleman must never stay in any box that he does not belong in, after\nthe lowering of the lights for the curtain. Nor, in spite of cartoons to\nthe contrary, does good taste permit conversation during the performance\nor during the overture. Box holders arriving late or leaving before the\nfinal curtain do so as quietly as possible and always without speaking.\n\n\n=A \"BRILLIANT OPERA NIGHT\"=\n\nA \"brilliant opera night,\" which one often hears spoken of (meaning merely\nthat all the boxes are occupied, and that the ladies are more elaborately\ndressed than usual) is generally a night when a leader of fashion such as\nMrs. Worldly, Mrs. Gilding, or Mrs. Toplofty, is giving a ball; and most\nof the holders of the parterre boxes are in ball dresses, with an unusual\ndisplay of jewels. Or a house will be particularly \"brilliant\" if a very\ngreat singer is appearing in a new r\u00f4le, or if a personage be present, as\nwhen Marshal Joffre went to the Metropolitan.\n\n\n=AFTER THE PERFORMANCE=\n\nOne gentleman, at least, must wait in the carriage lobby until all the\nladies in his party have driven away. _Never_ under any circumstances may\n\"the last\" gentleman leave a lady standing alone on the sidewalk. It is\nthe duty of the hostess to take all unattended ladies home who have not a\nprivate conveyance of their own, but the obligation does not extend to\nmarried couples or odd men. But if a married lady or widow has ordered her\nown car to come for her, the odd gentleman waits with her until it\nappears. It is then considerate for her to offer him a \"lift,\" but it is\nequally proper for her to thank him for waiting and drive off alone.\n\n\n=AT THE THEATER=\n\nNew Yorkers of highest fashion almost never occupy a box at the theater.\nAt the opera the world of fashion is to be seen in the parterre boxes (not\nthe first tier), and in boxes at some of the horse shows and at many\npublic charity balls and entertainments, but those in boxes at the theater\nare usually \"strangers\" or \"outsiders.\"\n\nNo one can dispute that the best theater seats are those in the center of\nthe orchestra. A box in these days of hatlessness has nothing to recommend\nit except that the people can sit in a group and gentlemen can go out\nbetween the acts easily, but these advantages hardly make up for the\ndisadvantage to four or at least three out of the six box occupants who\nsee scarcely a slice of the stage.\n\n\n=WILL YOU DINE AND GO TO THE PLAY?=\n\nThere is no more popular or agreeable way of entertaining people than to\nask them to \"dine and go to the play.\" The majority do not even prefer to\nhave \"opera\" substituted for \"play,\" because those who care for serious\nmusic are a minority compared with those who like the theater.\n\nIf a bachelor gives a small theater party he usually takes his guests to\ndine at the Fitz-Cherry or some other fashionable and \"amusing\"\nrestaurant, but a married couple living in their own house are more likely\nto dine at home, unless they belong to a type prevalent in New York which\nis \"restaurant mad.\" The Gildings, in spite of the fact that their own\nchef is the best there is, are much more apt to dine in a restaurant\nbefore going to a play--or if they don't dine in a restaurant, they go to\none for supper afterwards. But the Normans, if they ask people to dine and\ngo to the theater, invariably dine at home.\n\nA theater party can of course be of any size, but six or eight is the\nusual number, and the invitations are telephoned: \"Will Mr. and Mrs.\nLovejoy dine with Mr. and Mrs. Norman at seven-thirty on Tuesday and go to\nthe play?\"\n\nOr \"Will Mr. and Mrs. Oldname dine with Mr. Clubwin Doe on Saturday at the\nToit d'Or and go to the play?\"\n\nWhen Mr. and Mrs. Oldname \"accept with pleasure\" a second message is\ngiven: \"Dinner will be at 7.30.\"\n\nMrs. Norman's guests go to her house. Mr. Doe's guests meet him in the\nfoyer of the Toit d'Or. But the guests at both dinners are taken to the\ntheater by their host. If a dinner is given by a hostess who has no car of\nher own, a guest will sometimes ask: \"Don't you want me to have the car\ncome back for us?\" The hostess can either say to an intimate friend \"Why,\nyes, thank you very much,\" or to a more formal acquaintance, \"No, thank\nyou just the same--I have ordered taxis.\" Or she can accept. There is no\nrule beyond her own feelings in the matter.\n\nMr. Doe takes his guests to the theater in taxis. The Normans, if only the\nLovejoys are dining with them, go in Mrs. Norman's little town car, but if\nthere are to be six or eight, the ladies go in her car and the gentlemen\nfollow in a taxi. (Unless Mrs. Worldly or Mrs. Gilding are in the party\nand order their cars back.)\n\n\n=TICKETS BOUGHT IN ADVANCE=\n\nBefore inviting anyone to go to a particular play, a hostess must be sure\nthat good tickets are to be had. She should also try to get seats for a\nplay that is new; since it is dull to take people to something they have\nalready seen. This is not difficult in cities where new plays come to town\nevery week, but in New York, where the same ones run for a year or more,\nit is often a choice between an old good one or a new one that is poor. If\nintimate friends are coming, a hostess usually asks them what they want to\nsee and tries to get tickets accordingly.\n\nIt is really unnecessary to add that one must never ask people to go to a\nplace of public amusement and then stand in line to get seats at the time\nof the performance.\n\n\n=GOING DOWN THE AISLE OF A THEATER=\n\nThe host, or whichever gentleman has the tickets, (if there is no host,\nthe hostess usually hands them to one of the, gentlemen before leaving her\nhouse), goes down the aisle first and gives the checks to the usher, and\nthe others follow in the order in which they are to sit and which the\nhostess must direct. It is necessary that each knows who follows whom,\nparticularly if a theater party arrives after the curtain has gone up. If\nthe hostess \"forgets,\" the guests always ask before trooping down the\naisle \"How do you want us to sit?\" For nothing is more awkward and stupid\nthan to block the aisle at the row where their seats are, while their\nhostess \"sorts them\"; and worse yet, in her effort to be polite, sends the\nladies to their seats first and then lets the gentlemen stumble across\nthem to their own places. Going down the aisle is not a question of\nprecedence, but a question of seating. The one who is to sit eighth from\nthe aisle, whether a lady or a gentleman, goes first, then the seventh,\nthen the sixth, and if the gentleman with the checks is fifth, he goes in\nhis turn and the fourth follows him.\n\nIf a gentleman and his wife go to the theater alone, the question as to\nwho goes down the aisle first depends on where the usher is. If the usher\ntakes the checks at the head of the aisle, she follows the usher.\nOtherwise the gentleman goes first with the checks. When their places are\nshown him, he stands aside for his wife to take her place first and then\nhe takes his. A lady never sits in the aisle seat if she is with a\ngentleman.\n\n\n=GOOD MANNERS AT THE THEATER=\n\nIn passing across people who are seated, always face the stage and press\nas close to the backs of the seats you are facing as you can. Remember\nalso not to drag anything across the heads of those sitting in front of\nyou. At the moving pictures, especially when it is dark and difficult to\nsee, a coat on an arm passing behind a chair can literally devastate the\nhair-dressing of a lady occupying it.\n\nIf you are obliged to cross in front of some one who gets up to let you\npass, say \"Thank you,\" or \"Thank you very much\" or \"I am very sorry.\" Do\n_not_ say \"Pardon _me_!\" or \"Beg pardon!\" Though you can say \"I beg your\npardon.\" That, however, would be more properly the expression to use if\nyou brushed your coat over their heads, or spilled water over them, or did\nsomething to them for which you should actually _beg_ their pardon. But\n\"Beg pardon,\" which is an abbreviation, is one of the phrases never said\nin best society.\n\nGentlemen who want to go out after every act should always be sure to get\naisle seats. There are no greater theater pests than those who come back\nafter the curtain has gone up and temporarily snuff out the view of\neveryone behind, as well as annoy those who are obliged to stand up and\nlet them by.\n\nBetween the acts nearly all gentlemen go out and smoke at least once, but\nthose wedged in far from the aisle, who file out every time the curtain\ndrops are utterly lacking in consideration for others. If there are five\nacts, they should at most go out for two entr'actes and even then be\ncareful to come back before the curtain goes up.\n\n\n=VERY INCONSIDERATE TO GIGGLE AND TALK=\n\nNothing shows less consideration for others than to whisper and rattle\nprogrammes and giggle and even make audible remarks throughout a\nperformance. Very young people love to go to the theater in droves called\ntheater parties and absolutely ruin the evening for others who happen to\nsit in front of them. If Mary and Johnny and Susy and Tommy want to talk\nand giggle, why not arrange chairs in rows for them in a drawing-room,\nturn on a phonograph as an accompaniment and let them sit there and\nchatter!\n\nIf those behind you insist on talking it is never good policy to turn\naround and glare. If you are young they pay no attention, and if you are\nolder--most young people think an angry older person the funniest sight\non earth! The small boy throws a snowball at an elderly gentleman for no\nother reason! The only thing you can do is to say amiably: \"I'm sorry, but\nI can't hear anything while you talk.\" If they still persist, you can ask\nan usher to call the manager.\n\nThe sentimental may as well realize that every word said above a whisper\nis easily heard by those sitting directly in front, and those who tell\nfamily or other private affairs might do well to remember this also.\n\nAs a matter of fact, comparatively few people are ever anything but well\nbehaved. Those who arrive late and stand long, leisurely removing their\nwraps, and who insist on laughing and talking are rarely encountered; most\npeople take their seats as quietly and quickly as they possibly can, and\nare quite as much interested in the play and therefore as attentive and\nquiet as you are. A very annoying person at the \"movies\" is one who reads\nevery \"caption\" out loud.\n\n\n=PROPER THEATER CLOTHES=\n\nAt the evening performance in New York a lady wears a dinner dress; a\ngentleman a dinner coat, often called a Tuxedo. Full dress is not correct,\nbut those going afterwards to a ball can perfectly well go to the theater\nfirst if they do not make themselves conspicuous. A lady in a ball dress\nand many jewels should avoid elaborate hair ornamentation and must keep\nher wrap, or at least a sufficiently opaque scarf, about her shoulders to\navoid attracting people's attention. A gentleman in full dress is not\nconspicuous.\n\nAnd on the subject of theater dress it might be tentatively remarked that\nprinking and \"making up\" in public are all part of an age which can not\nsee fun in a farce without bedroom scenes and actors in pajamas, and\nactresses running about in neglig\u00e9s with their hair down. An audience\nwhich night after night watches people dressing and undressing probably\ngets into an unconscious habit of dressing or prinking itself. In other\ndays it was always thought that so much as to adjust a hat-pin or glance\nin a glass was lack of breeding. Every well brought up young woman was\ntaught that she must finish dressing in her bedchamber. But to-day young\nwomen in theaters, restaurants, and other public places, are continually\nstudying their reflection in little mirrors and patting their hair and\npowdering their noses and fixing this or adjusting that in a way that in\nMrs. Oldname's girlhood would have absolutely barred them from good\nsociety; nor can Mrs. Worldly or Mrs. Oldname be imagined \"preening\" and\n\"prinking\" anywhere. They dress as carefully and as beautifully as\npossible, but when they turn away from the mirrors in their dressing rooms\nthey never look in a glass or \"take note of their appearance\" until they\ndress again. And it must be granted that Lucy Gilding, Constance Style,\nCelia Lovejoy, Mary Smartlington and the other well-bred members of the\nyounger set do not put finishing touches on their faces in public--as yet!\n\n\n=THE COURTESY OF SENDING TICKETS EARLY=\n\nMost people are at times \"obliged\" to take tickets for various charity\nentertainments--balls, theatricals, concerts or pageants--to which, if\nthey do not care to go themselves, they give away their tickets. Those who\nintend giving tickets should remember that a message, \"Can you use two\ntickets for the Russian ballet to-night?\" sent at seven o'clock that same\nevening, after the Lovejoys have settled themselves for an evening at home\n(Celia having decided not to curl her hair and Donald having that morning\nsent his only dinner coat to be re-faced) can not give the same pleasure\nthat their earlier offer would have given. An opera box sent on the\nmorning of the opera is worse, since to find four music-loving people to\nfill it on such short notice at the height of the season is an undertaking\nthat few care to attempt.\n\n\n=A BIG THEATER PARTY=\n\nA big theater party is one of the favorite entertainments given for a\nd\u00e9butante. If fifty or more are to be asked, invitations are sometimes\nengraved.\n\n                    Mrs. Toplofty\n\n               requests the pleasure of\n\n       [_Name of guest is written on this line._]\n\n    company at the theater and a small dance afterward\n\n              in honor of her great-niece\n\n                Miss Millicent Gilding\n\n            on Tuesday the sixth of January\n\n              at half past eight o'clock\n\n    R.s.v.p.\n\nBut--and usually--the \"general utility\" invitation (see page 118) is\nfilled in, as follows:\n\n           [HW: To meet Miss Millicent Gilding]\n\n                     Mrs. Toplofty\n\n                 requests the pleasure of\n\n                 [HW: Miss Rosalie Gray's]\n\n    company at [HW: the Theater and at a dance]\n\n    on [HW: Tuesday the sixth of January]\n\n    at [HW: 8:15]\n\n    R.s.v.p.\n\nOr notes in either wording above are written by hand.\n\nAll those who accept have a ticket sent them. Each ticket sent a d\u00e9butante\nis accompanied by a visiting card on which is written:\n\n    \"Be in the lobby of the Comedy Theater at 8.15. Order your motor\n    to come for you at 010 Fifth Avenue at 1 A.M.\"\n\nOn the evening of the theater party, Mrs. Toplofty herself stands in the\nlobby to receive the guests. As soon as any who are to sit next to each\nother have arrived, they are sent into the theater; each gives her (or\nhis) ticket to an usher and sits in the place alloted to her (or him). It\nis well for the hostess to have a seat plan for her own use in case\nthoughtless young people mix their tickets all up and hand them to an\nusher in a bunch! And yet--if they do mix themselves to their own\nsatisfaction, she would better \"leave them\" than attempt to disturb a plan\nthat may have had more method in it than madness.\n\nWhen the last young girl has arrived, Mrs. Toplofty goes into the theater\nherself (she does not bother to wait for any boys), and in this one\ninstance she very likely sits in a stage box so as to \"keep her eye on\nthem,\" and with her she has two or three of her own friends.\n\nAfter the theater, big motor busses drive them all either to the house of\nthe hostess or to a hotel for supper and to dance. If they go to a hotel,\na small ballroom must be engaged and the dance is a private one; it would\nbe considered out of place to take a lot of very young people to a public\ncabaret.\n\nCarelessly chaperoned young girls are sometimes, it is true, seen in very\nquestionable places because some of the so-called dancing restaurants are\nperfectly fit and proper for them to go to; many other places however, are\nnot, and for the sake of general appearances it is safer to make it a rule\nthat no very young girl should go anywhere after the theater except to a\nprivate house or a private dance or ball.\n\nOlder people, on the other hand, very often go for a supper to one of the\ncabarets for which New York is famous (or infamous?), or perhaps go to\nwatch a vaudeville performance at midnight, or dance, or do both together.\n\nOthers, if they are among the great majority of \"quiet\" people, go home\nafter the theater, especially if they have dined with their hostess (or\nhost) before the play.\n\n\n=DON'T BE LATE=\n\nWhen you are dining before going to the opera or theater you must arrive\non the stroke of the hour for which you are asked; it is one occasion when\nit is inexcusable to be late.\n\nIn accepting an invitation for lunch or dinner after which you are going\nto a game, or any sort of performance, you must not be late! Nothing is\nmore unfair to others who are keen about whatever it is you are going to\nsee, than to make them miss the beginning of a performance through your\nthoughtless selfishness.\n\nFor this reason box-holders who are music-lovers do not ask guests who\nhave the \"late habit\" to dine before the opera, because experience has\ntaught them they will miss the overture and most of the first act if they\ndo. Those, on the other hand, who care nothing for music and go to the\nopera to see people and be seen, seldom go until most if not all of the\nfirst act is over. But these in turn might give music-loving guests their\nchoice of going alone in time for the overture and waiting for them in the\nbox at the opera, or having the pleasure of dining with their hostess but\nmissing most of the first part.\n\n\n=AT GAMES, THE CIRCUS OR ELSEWHERE=\n\nConsiderate and polite behavior by each member of an audience is the same\neverywhere. At outdoor games, or at the circus, it is not necessary to\nstop talking. In fact, a good deal of noise is not out of the way in\n\"rooting\" at a match, and a circus band does not demand silence in order\nto appreciate its cheerful blare. One very great annoyance in open air\ngatherings is cigar smoke when blown directly in one's face, or worse yet\nthe smoke from a smouldering cigar. It is almost worthy of a study in air\ncurrents to discover why with plenty of space all around, a tiny column of\nsmoke will make straight for the nostrils of the very one most nauseated\nby it!\n\nThe only other annoyance met with at ball games or parades or wherever\npeople occupy seats on the grandstand, is when some few in front get\nexcited and insist on standing up. If those in front stand--those behind\nnaturally have to! Generally people call out \"down in front.\" If they\nwon't stay \"down,\" then all those behind have to stay \"up.\" Also umbrellas\nand parasols entirely blot out the view of those behind.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nCONVERSATION\n\n\n=NEED OF RECIPROCITY=\n\nIdeal conversation should be a matter of equal give and take, but too\noften it is all \"take.\" The voluble talker--or chatterer--rides his own\nhobby straight through the hours without giving anyone else, who might\nalso like to say something, a chance to do other than exhaustedly await\nthe turn that never comes. Once in a while--a very long while--one meets a\nbrilliant person whose talk is a delight; or still more rarely a wit who\nmanipulates every ordinary topic with the agility of a sleight-of-hand\nperformer, to the ever increasing rapture of his listeners.\n\nBut as a rule the man who has been led to believe that he is a brilliant\nand interesting talker has been led to make himself a rapacious pest. No\nconversation is possible between others whose ears are within reach of his\nponderous voice; anecdotes, long-winded stories, dramatic and pathetic,\nstock his repertoire; but worst of all are his humorous yarns at which he\nlaughs uproariously though every one else grows solemn and more solemn.\n\nThere is a simple rule, by which if one is a voluble chatterer (to be a\ngood talker necessitates a good mind) one can at least refrain from being\na pest or a bore. And the rule is merely, to stop and think.\n\n\n=\"THINK BEFORE YOU SPEAK\"=\n\nNearly all the faults or mistakes in conversation are caused by not\nthinking. For instance, a first rule for behavior in society is: \"Try to\ndo and say those things only which will be agreeable to others.\" Yet how\nmany people, who really know better, people who are perfectly capable of\nintelligent understanding if they didn't let their brains remain asleep\nor locked tight, go night after night to dinner parties, day after day to\nother social gatherings, and absent-mindedly prate about this or that\nwithout ever taking the trouble to _think_ what they are saying and to\nwhom they are saying it! Would a young mother describe twenty or thirty\ncunning tricks and sayings of the baby to a bachelor who has been\nhelplessly put beside her at dinner if she _thought_? She would know very\nwell, alas! that not even a very dear friend would really care for more\nthan a _hors d'oeuvre_ of the subject, at the board of general\nconversation.\n\nThe older woman is even worse, unless something occurs (often when it is\ntoo late) to make her wake up and realize that she not only bores her\nhearers but prejudices everyone against her children by the unrestraint of\nher own praise. The daughter who is continually lauded as the most\ncaptivating and beautiful girl in the world, seems to the wearied\nperceptions of enforced listeners annoying and plain. In the same way the\n\"magnificent\" son is handicapped by his mother's--or his\nfather's--overweening pride and love in exact proportion to its displayed\nintensity. On the other hand, the neglected wife, the unappreciated\nhusband, the misunderstood child, takes on a glamor in the eyes of others\nequally out of proportion. That great love has seldom perfect wisdom is\none of the great tragedies in the drama of life. In the case of the\noverloving wife or mother, some one should love _her_ enough to make her\n_stop and think_ that her loving praise is not merely a question of boring\nher hearers but of handicapping unfairly those for whom she would gladly\nlay down her life--and yet few would have the courage to point out to her\nthat she would far better lay down her tongue.\n\nThe cynics say that those who take part in social conversation are bound\nto be either the bores or the bored; and that which you choose to be, is a\nmere matter of selection. And there must be occasions in the life of\neveryone when the cynics seem to be right; the man of affairs who, sitting\nnext to an attractive looking young woman, is regaled throughout dinner\nwith the detailed accomplishments of the young woman's husband; the woman\nof intellect who must listen with interest to the droolings of an\nespecially prosy man who holds forth on the super-everything of his own\npossessions, can not very well consider that the evening was worth\ndressing, sitting up, and going out for.\n\nPeople who talk too easily are apt to talk too much, and at times\nimprudently, and those with vivid imagination are often unreliable in\ntheir statements. On the other hand the \"man of silence\" who never speaks\nexcept when he has something \"worth while\" to say, is apt to wear well\namong his intimates, but is not likely to add much to the gaiety of a\nparty.\n\nTry not to repeat yourself; either by telling the same story again and\nagain or by going back over details of your narrative that seemed\nespecially to interest or amuse your hearer. Many things are of interest\nwhen briefly told and for the first time; _nothing_ interests when too\nlong dwelt upon; little interests that is told a second time. The\nexception is something very pleasant that you have heard about A. or more\nespecially A.'s child, which having already told A. you can then tell B.,\nand later C. in A.'s presence. Never do this as a habit, however, and\nnever drag the incident into the conversation merely to flatter A., since\nif A. is a person of taste, he will be far more apt to resent than be\npleased by flattery that borders on the fulsome.\n\nBe careful not to let amiable discussion turn into contradiction and\nargument. The tactful person keeps his prejudices to himself and even when\ninvolved in a discussion says quietly \"No. I don't think I agree with you\"\nor \"It seems to me thus and so.\" One who is well-bred never says \"You are\nwrong!\" or \"Nothing of the kind!\" If he finds another's opinion utterly\nopposed to his own, he switches to another subject for a pleasanter\nchannel of conversation.\n\nWhen some one is talking to you, it is inconsiderate to keep repeating\n\"What did you say?\" Those who are deaf are often, obliged to ask that a\nsentence be repeated. Otherwise their irrelevant answers would make them\nappear half-witted. But countless persons with perfectly good hearing say\n\"What?\" from force of habit and careless inattention.\n\n\n=THE GIFT OF HUMOR=\n\nThe joy of joys is the person of light but unmalicious humor. If you know\nany one who is gay, beguiling and amusing, you will, if you are wise, do\neverything you can to make him prefer your house and your table to any\nother; for where he is, the successful party is also. What he says is of\nno matter, it is the twist he gives to it, the intonation, the personality\nhe puts into his quip or retort or observation that delights his hearers,\nand in his case the ordinary rules do not apply.\n\nEugene Field could tell a group of people that it had rained to-day and\nwould probably rain to-morrow, and make everyone burst into laughter--or\ntears if he chose--according to the way it was said. But the ordinary rest\nof us must, if we would be thought sympathetic, intelligent or agreeable,\n\"go fishing.\"\n\n\n=GOING FISHING FOR TOPICS=\n\nThe charming talker is neither more nor less than a fisherman.\n(Fisherwoman rather, since in America women make more effort to be\nagreeable than men do.) Sitting next to a stranger she wonders which \"fly\"\nshe had better choose to interest him. She offers one topic; not much of a\nnibble. So she tries another or perhaps a third before he \"rises\" to the\nbait.\n\n\n=THE DOOR SLAMMERS=\n\nThere are people whose idea of conversation is contradiction and flat\nstatement. Finding yourself next to one of these, you venture:\n\n\"Have you seen any good plays lately?\"\n\n\"No, hate the theater.\"\n\n\"Which team are you for in the series?\"\n\n\"Neither. Only an idiot could be interested in baseball.\"\n\n\"Country must have a good many idiots!\" mockingly.\n\n\"Obviously it has.\" Full stop. In desperation you veer to the personal.\n\n\"I've never seen Mrs. Bobo Gilding as beautiful as she is to-night.\"\n\n\"Nothing beautiful about her. As for the name 'Bobo,' it's asinine.\"\n\n\"Oh, it's just one of those children's names that stick sometimes for\nlife.\"\n\n\"Perfect rot. Ought to be called by his name,\" etc.\n\nAnother, not very different in type though different in method, is the\nself-appointed instructor whose proper place is on the lecture platform,\nnot at a dinner table.\n\n\"The earliest coins struck in the Peloponnesus were stamped on one side\nonly; their alloy----\" etc.\n\nAnother is the expounder of the obvious: \"Have you ever noticed,\" says he,\ndeeply thinking, \"how people's tastes differ?\"\n\nThen there is the vulgarian of fulsome compliment: \"Why are you so\nbeautiful? It is not fair to the others----\" and so on.\n\n\n=TACTLESS BLUNDERERS=\n\nTactless people are also legion. The means-to-be-agreeable elderly man\nsays to a pass\u00e9e acquaintance, \"Twenty years ago you were the prettiest\nwoman in town\"; or in the pleasantest tone of voice to one whose only son\nhas married. \"Why is it, do you suppose, that young wives always dislike\ntheir mothers-in-law?\"\n\nIf you have any ambition to be sought after in society you must not talk\nabout the unattractiveness of old age to the elderly, about the joys of\ndancing and skating to the lame, or about the advantages of ancestry to\nthe self-made. It is also dangerous, as well as needlessly unkind, to\nridicule or criticize others, especially for what they can't help. If a\nyoung woman's familiar or otherwise lax behavior deserves censure, a\ncasual unflattering remark may not add to your own popularity if your\nlistener is a relative, but you can at least, without being shamefaced,\nstand by your guns. On the other hand to say needlessly \"What an ugly\ngirl!\" or \"What a half-wit that boy is!\" can be of no value except in\ndrawing attention to your own tactlessness.\n\nThe young girl who admired her own facile adjectives said to a casual\nacquaintance: \"How _can_ you go about with that moth-eaten, squint-eyed,\nbag of a girl!\" \"Because,\" answered the youth whom she had intended to\ndazzle, \"the lady of your flattering epithets happens to be my sister.\"\n\nIt is scarcely necessary to say that one whose tactless remarks ride\nrough-shod over the feelings of others, is not welcomed by many.\n\n\n=THE BORE=\n\nA bore is said to be \"one who talks about himself when you want to talk\nabout yourself!\" which is superficially true enough, but a bore might more\naccurately be described as one who is interested in what does not interest\nyou, and insists that you share his enthusiasm, in spite of your\ndisinclination. To the bore life holds no dullness; every subject is of\nunending delight. A story told for the thousandth time has not lost its\nthrill; every tiresome detail is held up and turned about as a morsel of\ndelectableness; to him each pea in a pod differs from another with the\nentrancing variety that artists find in tropical sunsets.\n\nOn the other hand, to be bored is a bad habit, and one only too easy to\nfall into. As a matter of fact, it is impossible, almost, to meet anyone\nwho has not _something_ of interest to tell you if you are but clever\nenough yourself to find out what it is. There are certain always\ndelightful people who refuse to be bored. Their attitude is that no\nsubject need ever be utterly uninteresting, so long as it is discussed for\nthe first time. Repetition alone is deadly dull. Besides, what is the\nmatter with trying to be agreeable yourself? Not _too_ agreeable. Alas!\nit is true: \"Be polite to bores and so shall you have bores always round\nabout you.\" Furthermore, there is no reason why you should be bored when\nyou can be otherwise. But if you find yourself sitting in the hedgerow\nwith nothing but weeds, there is no reason for shutting your eyes and\nseeing nothing, instead of finding what beauty you may in the weeds. To\nput it cynically, life is too short to waste it in drawing blanks.\nTherefore, it is up to you to find as many pictures to put on your blank\npages as possible.\n\n\n=A FEW IMPORTANT DETAILS OF SPEECH IN CONVERSATION=\n\nUnless you wish to stamp yourself a person who has never been out of\n\"provincial\" society, never speak of your husband as \"Mr.\" except to an\ninferior. Mrs. Worldly for instance in talking with a stranger would say\n\"my husband,\" and to a friend, meaning one not only whom she calls by her\nfirst name, but anyone on her \"dinner list,\" she says, \"Dick thought the\nplay amusing\" or \"Dick said----\". This does not give her listener the\nprivilege of calling him \"Dick.\" The listener in return speaks of her own\nhusband as \"Tom\" even if he is seventy--unless her hearer is a very young\nperson (either man or woman), when she would say \"my husband.\" Never \"Mr.\nOlder.\" To call your husband Mr. means that you consider the person you\nare talking to, beneath you in station. Mr. Worldly in the same way speaks\nof Mrs. Worldly as \"my wife\" to a gentleman, or \"Edith\" in speaking to a\nlady. _Always._\n\nIn speaking about other people, one says \"Mrs.,\" \"Miss\" or \"Mr.\" as the\ncase may be. It is bad form to go about saying \"Edith Worldly\" or \"Ethel\nNorman\" to those who do not call them Edith or Ethel, and to speak thus\nfamiliarly of one whom you do not call by her first name, is unforgivable.\nIt is also effrontery for a younger person to call an older by her or his\nfirst name, without being asked to do so. Only a very underbred,\nthick-skinned person would attempt it.\n\nAlso you must not take your conversation \"out of the drawing-room.\"\nOperations, ills or personal blemishes, details and appurtenances of the\ndressing-room, for instance, are neither suitable nor pleasant topics, nor\nare personal jokes in good taste.\n\n\n=THE \"OMNISCIENCE\" OF THE VERY RICH=\n\nWhy a man, because he has millions, should assume that they confer\nomniscience in all branches of knowledge, is something which may be left\nto the psychologist to answer, but most of those thrown much in contact\nwith millionaires will agree that an attitude of infallibility is typical\nof a fair majority.\n\nA professor who has devoted his life to a subject modestly makes a\nstatement. \"You are all wrong,\" says the man of millions, \"It is this\nway----\". As a connoisseur he seems to think that because he can pay for\nanything he fancies, he is accredited expert as well as potential owner.\nTopics he does not care for are \"bosh,\" those which he has a smattering\nof, he simply appropriates; his prejudices are, in his opinion, expert\ncriticism; his taste impeccable; his judgment infallible; and to him the\nworld is a pleasance built for his sole pleasuring. But to the rest of us\nwho also have to live in it with as much harmony as we can, such persons\nare certainly elephants at large in the garden. We can sometimes induce\nthem to pass through gently, but they are just as likely at any moment to\npull up our fences and push the house itself over on our defenseless\nheads.\n\nThere are countless others of course, very often the richest of all, who\nare authoritative in all they profess, who are experts and connoisseurs,\nwho are human and helpful and above everything respecters of the garden\nenclosure of others.\n\n\n=DANGERS TO BE AVOIDED=\n\nIn conversation the dangers are very much the same as those to be avoided\nin writing letters. Talk about things which you think will be agreeable to\nyour hearer. Don't dilate on ills, misfortune, or other unpleasantnesses.\nThe one in greatest danger of making enemies is the man or woman of\nbrilliant wit. If sharp, wit is apt to produce a feeling of mistrust even\nwhile it stimulates. Furthermore the applause which follows every witty\nsally becomes in time breath to the nostrils, and perfectly\nwell-intentioned, people, who mean to say nothing unkind, in the flash of\na second \"see a point,\" and in the next second, score it with no more\npower to resist than a drug addict can resist a dose put into his hand!\n\nThe mimic is a joy to his present company, but the eccentric mannerism of\none is much easier to imitate than the charm of another, and the subjects\nof the habitual mimic are all too apt to become his enemies.\n\nYou need not, however, be dull because you refrain from the rank habit of\na critical attitude, which like a weed will grow all over the place if you\nlet it have half a chance. A very good resolve to make and keep, if you\nwould also keep any friends you make, is never to speak of anyone without,\nin imagination, having them overhear what you say. One often hears the\nexclamation \"I would say it to her face!\" At least be very sure that this\nis true, and not a braggart's phrase and then--nine times out of ten think\nbetter of it and refrain. Preaching is all very well in a text-book,\nschoolroom or pulpit, but it has no place in society. Society is supposed\nto be a pleasant place; telling people disagreeable things to their faces\nor behind their backs is _not_ a pleasant occupation.\n\nDo not be too apparently clever if you would be popular. The cleverest\nwoman is she who, in talking to a man, makes _him_ seem clever. This was\nMme. Recamier's great charm.\n\n\n=A FEW MAXIMS FOR THOSE WHO TALK TOO MUCH--AND EASILY!=\n\nThe faults of commission are far more serious than those of omission;\nregrets are seldom for what you left unsaid.\n\nThe chatterer reveals every corner of his shallow mind; one who keeps\nsilent can not have his depth plumbed.\n\nDon't pretend to know more than you do. To say you have read a book and\nthen seemingly to understand nothing of what you have read, proves you a\nhalf-wit. Only the very small mind hesitates to say \"I don't know.\"\n\nAbove all, stop and _think_ what you are saying! This is really the first,\nlast and only rule. If you \"stop\" you can't chatter or expound or flounder\nceaselessly, and if you _think_, you will find a topic and a manner of\npresenting your topic so that your neighbor will be interested rather than\nlong-suffering.\n\nRemember also that the sympathetic (not apathetic) listener is the delight\nof delights. The person who looks glad to see you, who is seemingly eager\nfor your news, or enthralled with your conversation; who looks at you with\na kindling of the face, and gives you spontaneous and undivided attention,\nis the one to whom the palm for the art of conversation would undoubtedly\nbe awarded.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nWORDS, PHRASES AND PRONUNCIATION\n\n\n=PHRASES AVOIDED IN GOOD SOCIETY=\n\nIt is difficult to explain why well-bred people avoid certain words and\nexpressions that are admitted by etymology and grammar. So it must be\nmerely stated that they have and undoubtedly always will avoid them.\nMoreover, this choice of expression is not set forth in any printed guide\nor book on English, though it is followed in all literature.\n\nTo liken Best Society to a fraternity, with the avoidance of certain\nseemingly unimportant words as the sign of recognition, is not a fantastic\nsimile. People of the fashionable world invariably use certain expressions\nand instinctively avoid others; therefore when a stranger uses an\n\"avoided\" one he proclaims that he \"does not belong,\" exactly as a\npretended Freemason proclaims himself an \"outsider\" by giving the wrong\n\"grip\"--or whatever it is by which Brother Masons recognize one another.\n\nPeople of position are people of position the world over--and by their\nspeech are most readily known. Appearance on the other hand often passes\nmuster. A \"show-girl\" may be lovely to look at as she stands in a\nseemingly unstudied position and in perfect clothes. But let her say \"My\nGawd!\" or \"Wouldn't that jar you!\" and where is her loveliness then?\n\nAnd yet, and this is the difficult part of the subject to make clear, the\nmost vulgar slang like that quoted above, is scarcely worse than the\nattempted elegance which those unused to good society imagine to be the\nevidence of cultivation.\n\nPeople who say \"I come,\" and \"I seen it,\" and \"I done it\" prove by their\nlack of grammar that they had little education in their youth.\nUnfortunate, very; but they may at the same time be brilliant, exceptional\ncharacters, loved by everyone who knows them, because they are what they\nseem and nothing else. But the caricature \"lady\" with the comic picture\n\"society manner\" who says \"Pardon _me_\" and talks of \"retiring,\" and\n\"residing,\" and \"desiring,\" and \"being acquainted with,\" and \"attending\"\nthis and that with \"her escort,\" and curls her little finger over the\nhandle of her teacup, and prates of \"culture,\" does not belong to Best\nSociety, and _never_ will! The offense of pretentiousness is committed\noftener perhaps by women than by men, who are usually more natural and\ndirect. A genuine, sincere, kindly American man--or woman--can go anywhere\nand be welcomed by everyone, provided of course, that he is a man of\nability and intellect. One finds him all over the world, neither aping the\nmanners of others nor treading on the sensibilities of those less\nfortunate than himself.\n\nOccasionally too, there appears in Best Society a provincial in whose\nconversation is perceptible the influence of much reading of the Bible.\nSuch are seldom if ever stilted or pompous or long-worded, but are\ninvariably distinguished for the simplicity and dignity of their English.\n\nThere is no better way to cultivate taste in words, than by constantly\nreading the best English. None of the words and expressions which are\ntaboo in good society will be found in books of proved literary standing.\nBut it must not be forgotten that there can be a vast difference between\nliterary standing and popularity, and that many of the \"best sellers\" have\nno literary merit whatsoever.\n\nTo be able to separate best English from merely good English needs a long\nprocess of special education, but to recognize bad English one need merely\nskim through a page of a book, and if a single expression in the left-hand\ncolumn following can be found (unless purposely quoted in illustration of\nvulgarity) it is quite certain that the author neither writes best English\nnor belongs to Best Society.\n\n        NEVER SAY:                       CORRECT FORM:\n    In our residence we retire       At our house we go to bed\n    early (or arise)                 early (or get up)\n\n    I desire to purchase             I should like to buy\n\n    Make you acquainted with         (See Introductions)\n\n    Pardon _me_!                     I beg your pardon. Or,\n                                     Excuse me! Or, sorry!\n\n    Lovely food                      Good food\n\n    Elegant home                     Beautiful house--or place\n\n    A stylish dresser                She dresses well, or she\n                                     wears lovely clothes\n\n    Charmed! or Pleased to           How do you do!\n    meet you!\n\n    Attended                         Went to\n\n    I trust I am not trespassing     I hope I am not in the way\n                                     (unless trespassing on private\n                                     property is actually\n                                     meant)\n\n    Request (meaning ask)            Used only in the third person\n                                     in formal written invitations.\n\n    Will you accord me permission?   Will you let me? or May I?\n\n    Permit me to assist you          Let me help you\n\n    Brainy                           Brilliant or clever\n\n    I presume                        I suppose\n\n    Tendered him a banquet           Gave him a dinner\n\n    Converse                         Talk\n\n    Partook of liquid refreshment    Had something to drink\n\n    Perform ablutions                Wash\n\n    A song entitled                  Called (proper if used in\n                                     legal sense)\n\n    I will ascertain                 I will find out\n\n    Residence or mansion             House, or big house\n\n    In the home                      In some one's house or At\n                                     home\n\n    Phone, photo, auto               Telephone, photograph,\n                                     automobile\n\n\"Tintinnabulary summons,\" meaning bell, and \"Bovine continuation,\" meaning\ncow's tail, are more amusing than offensive, but they illustrate the\ntheory of bad style that is pretentious.\n\nAs examples of the very worst offenses that can be committed, the\nfollowing are offered:\n\n\"Pray, accept my thanks for the flattering ovation you have tendered me.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" says the preposterous bride, \"I am the recipient of many admired\nand highly prized gifts.\"\n\n\"Will you permit me to recall myself to you?\"\n\nSpeaking of bridesmaids as \"pretty servitors,\" \"dispensing hospitality,\"\nasking any one to \"step this way.\"\n\nMany other expressions are provincial and one who seeks purity of speech\nshould, if possible, avoid them, but as \"offenses\" they are minor:\n\nReckon, guess, calculate, or figure, meaning think.\n\nAllow, meaning agree.\n\nFolks, meaning family.\n\nCute, meaning pretty or winsome.\n\nWell, I declare! 'Pon my word!\n\nBox party, meaning sitting in a box at the theater.\n\nVisiting with, meaning talking to.\n\nThere are certain words which have been singled out and misused by the\nundiscriminating until their value is destroyed. Long ago \"elegant\" was\nturned from a word denoting the essence of refinement and beauty, into\ngaudy trumpery. \"Refined\" is on the verge. But the pariah of the language\nis culture! A word rarely used by those who truly possess it, but so\nconstantly misused by those who understand nothing of its meaning, that it\nis becoming a synonym for vulgarity and imitation. To speak of the proper\nuse of a finger bowl or the ability to introduce two people without a\nblunder as being \"evidence of culture of the highest degree\" is precisely\nas though evidence of highest education were claimed for who ever can do\nsums in addition, and read words of one syllable. Culture in its true\nmeaning is widest possible education, _plus_ especial refinement and\ntaste.\n\nThe fact that slang is apt and forceful makes its use irresistibly\ntempting. Coarse or profane slang is beside the mark, but \"flivver,\"\n\"taxi,\" the \"movies,\" \"deadly\" (meaning dull), \"feeling fit,\" \"feeling\nblue,\" \"grafter,\" a \"fake,\" \"grouch,\" \"hunch\" and \"right o!\" are typical\nof words that it would make our spoken language stilted to exclude.\n\nAll colloquial expressions are little foxes that spoil the grapes of\nperfect diction, but they are very little foxes; it is the false elegance\nof stupid pretentiousness that is an annihilating blight which destroys\nroot and vine.\n\nIn the choice of words, we can hardly find a better guide than the lines\nof Alexander Pope:\n\n    \"In words, as fashions, the same rule will hold;\n    Alike fantastic, if too new, or old:\n    Be not the first by whom the new are tried,\n    Nor yet the last to lay the old aside.\"\n\n\n=PRONUNCIATION=\n\nTraits of pronunciation which are typical of whole sections of the\ncountry, or accents inherited from European parents must not be confused\nwith crude pronunciations that have their origin in illiteracy. A\ngentleman of Irish blood may have a brogue as rich as plum cake, or\nanother's accent be soft Southern or flat New England, or rolling\nWestern; and to each of these the utterance of the others may sound too\nflat, too soft, too harsh, too refined, or drawled, or clipped short, but\nnot uncultivated.\n\nTo a New York ear, which ought to be fairly unbiased since the New York\naccent is a composite of all accents, English women chirrup and twitter.\nBut the beautifully modulated, clear-clipped enunciation of a cultivated\nEnglishman, one who can move his jaws and not swallow his words whole,\ncomes as near to perfection in English as the diction of the Com\u00e9die\nFran\u00e7aise comes to perfection in French.\n\nThe Boston accent is very crisp and in places suggestive of the best\nEnglish but the vowels are so curiously flattened that the speech has a\nsaltless effect. There is no rhyming word as flat as the way they say\n\"heart\"--\"haht.\" And \"bone\" and \"coat\"--\"bawn,\" \"cawt,\" to rhyme with awe!\n\nThen South, there is too much salt--rather too much sugar. Every one's\nmouth seems full of it, with \"I\" turned to \"ah\" and every staccato a\ndrawl. But the voices are full of sweetness and music unknown north of the\nPotomac.\n\nThe Pennsylvania burr is perhaps the mother of the Western one. It is\nstrong enough to have mothered all the r's in the wor-r-rld!\nPhiladelphia's \"haow\" and \"caow\" for \"how\" and \"cow,\" and \"me\" for \"my\" is\nquite as bad as the \"water-r\" and \"thot\" of the West.\n\nN'Yawk is supposed to say \"yeh\" and \"Omurica\" and \"Toosdeh,\" and\n\"puddin'.\" Probably five per cent. of it does, but as a whole it has no\naccent, since it is a composite of all in one.\n\nIn best New York society there is perhaps a generally accepted\npronunciation which seems chiefly an elimination of the accents of other\nsections. Probably that is what all people think of their own\npronunciation. Or do they not know, whether their inflection is right or\nwrong? Nothing should be simpler to determine. If they pronounce according\nto a standard dictionary, they are correct; if they don't, they have an\n\"accent\" or are ignorant; it is for them to determine which. Such\ndifferences as between saying wash or wawsh, ad_ver_tisement or\nadver_tise_ment are of small importance. But no one who makes the least\npretence of being a person of education says: kep for kept, genelmun or\ngempmun or laydee, vawde-vil, or eye-talian.\n\n\n=HOW TO CULTIVATE AN AGREEABLE SPEECH=\n\nFirst of all, remember that while affectation is odious, crudeness must be\novercome. A low voice is always pleasing, not whispered or murmured, but\nlow in pitch. Do not talk at the top of your head, nor at the top of your\nlungs. Do not slur whole sentences together; on the other hand, do not\npronounce as though each syllable were a separate tongue and lip exercise.\n\nAs a nation we do not talk so much too fast, as too loud. Tens of\nthousands twang and slur and shout and burr! Many of us drawl and many\nothers of us race tongues and breath at full speed, but, as already said,\nthe speed of our speech does not matter so much. Pitch of voice matters\nvery much and so does pronunciation--enunciation is not so\nessential--except to one who speaks in public.\n\nEnunciation means the articulation of whatever you have to say distinctly\nand clearly. Pronunciation is the proper sounding of consonants, vowels\nand the accentuation of each syllable.\n\nThere is no better way to cultivate a perfect pronunciation; apart from\nassociation with cultivated people, than by getting a small pronouncing\ndictionary of words in ordinary use, and reading it word by word, marking\nand studying any that you use frequently and mispronounce. When you know\nthem, then read any book at random slowly aloud to yourself, very\ncarefully pronouncing each word. The consciousness of this exercise may\nmake you stilted in conversation at first, but by and by the \"sense\" or\n\"impulse\" to speak correctly will come.\n\nThis is a method that has been followed by many men handicapped in youth\nthrough lack of education, who have become prominent in public life, and\nby many women, who likewise handicapped by circumstances, have not only\nmade possible a creditable position for themselves, but have then given\ntheir children the inestimable advantage of learning their mother tongue\ncorrectly at their mother's knee.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nONE'S POSITION IN THE COMMUNITY\n\n\n=THE CHOICE=\n\nFirst of all, it is necessary to decide what one's personal idea of\nposition is, whether this word suggests merely a social one, comprising a\nlarge or an exclusive acquaintance and leadership in social gaiety, or\nposition established upon the foundation of communal consequence, which\nmay, or may not, include great social gaiety. In other words, you who are\nestablishing yourself, either as a young husband or a stranger, would you,\nif you could have your wish granted by a genie, choose to have the\npopulace look upon you askance and in awe, because of your wealth and\nelegance, or would you wish to be loved, not as a power conferring favors\nwhich belong really to the first picture, but as a fellow-being with an\nunderstanding heart? The granting of either wish is not a bit beyond the\npossibilities of anyone. It is merely a question of depositing securities\nof value in the bank of life.\n\n\n=THE BANK OF LIFE=\n\nLife, whether social or business, is a bank in which you deposit certain\nfunds of character, intellect and heart; or other funds of egotism,\nhard-heartedness and unconcern; or deposit--nothing! And the bank honors\nyour deposit, and no more. In other words, you can draw nothing out but\nwhat you have put in.\n\nIf your community is to give you admiration and honor, it is merely\nnecessary to be admirable and honorable. The more you put in, the more\nwill be paid out to you. It is too trite to put on paper! But it is\nastonishing, isn't it, how many people who are depositing nothing\nwhatever, expect to be paid in admiration and respect?\n\nA man of really high position is always a great citizen first and above\nall. Otherwise he is a hollow puppet whether he is a millionaire or has\nscarcely a dime to bless himself with. In the same way, a woman's social\nposition that is built on sham, vanity, and selfishness, is like one of\nthe buildings at an exposition; effective at first sight, but bound when\nslightly weather-beaten to show stucco and glue.\n\nIt would be very presumptuous to attempt to tell any man how to acquire\nthe highest position in his community, especially as the answer is written\nin his heart, his intellect, his altruistic sympathy, and his ardent civic\npride. A subject, however, that is not so serious or over-aweing, and\nwhich can perhaps have directions written for it, is the lesser ambition\nof acquiring a social position.\n\n\n=TAKING OR ACQUIRING A SOCIAL POSITION=\n\nA bride whose family or family-in-law has social position has merely to\ntake that which is hers by inheritance; but a stranger who comes to live\nin a new place, or one who has always lived in a community but unknown to\nsociety, have both to acquire a standing of their own. For example:\n\n\n=THE BRIDE OF GOOD FAMILY=\n\nThe bride of good family need do nothing on her own initiative. After her\nmarriage when she settles down in her own house or apartment, everyone who\nwas asked to her wedding breakfast or reception, and even many who were\nonly bidden to the church, call on her. She keeps their cards, enters them\nin a visiting or ordinary alphabetically indexed blank book, and within\ntwo weeks she returns each one of their calls.\n\nAs it is etiquette for everyone when calling for the first time on a\nbride, to ask if she is in, the bride, in returning her first calls,\nshould do likewise. As a matter of fact, a bride assumes the intimate\nvisiting list of both her own and her husband's families, whether they\ncall on her or not. By and by, if she gives a general tea or ball, she can\ninvite whom, among them, she wants to. She should not, however, ask any\nmere acquaintances of her family to her house, until they have first\ninvited her and her husband to theirs. But if she would like to invite\nintimate friends of her own or of her husband, or of her family, there is\nno valid reason why she should not do so.\n\nUsually when a bride and groom return from their wedding trip, all their\npersonal friends and those of their respective parents, give \"parties\" for\nthem. And from being seen at one house, they are invited to another. If\nthey go nowhere, they do not lose position but they are apt to be\noverlooked until people remember them by seeing them. But it is not at all\nnecessary for young people to entertain in order to be asked out a great\ndeal; they need merely be attractive and have engaging manners to be as\npopular as heart could wish. But they must make it a point to be\nconsiderate of everyone and never fail to take the trouble to go up with a\nsmiling \"How do you do\" to every older lady who has been courteous enough\nto invite them to her house. That is not \"toadying,\" it is being merely\npolite. To go up and gush is a very different matter, and to go up and\ngush over a prominent hostess who has never invited them to her house, is\ntoadying and of a very cheap variety.\n\nA really well-bred person is as charming as possible to all, but effusive\nto none, and shows no difference in manner either, to the high or to the\nlowly when they are of equally formal acquaintance.\n\n\n=THE BRIDE WHO IS A STRANGER=\n\nThe bride who is a stranger, but whose husband is well known in the town\nto which he brings her, is in much the same position as the bride noted\nabove, in that her husband's friends call on her; she returns their\nvisits, and many of them invite her to their house. But it then devolves\nupon her to make herself liked, otherwise she will find herself in a\ncommunity of many acquaintances but no friends. The best ingredients for\nlikeableness are a happy expression of countenance, an unaffected manner,\nand a sympathetic attitude. If she is so fortunate as to possess these\nattributes her path will have roses enough. But a young woman with an\naffected pose and bad or conceited manners, will find plenty of thorns.\nEqually unsuccessful is she with a chip-on-her-shoulder who, coming from\nNew York for instance, to live in Brightmeadows, insists upon dragging New\nYork sky-scrapers into every comparison with Brightmeadows' new\nsix-storied building. She might better pack her trunks and go back where\nshe came from. Nor should the bride from Brightmeadows who has married a\nNew Yorker, flaunt Brightmeadows standards or customs, and tell Mrs.\nWorldly that she does not approve of a lady's smoking! Maybe she doesn't\nand she may be quite right, and she should not under the circumstances\nsmoke herself; but she should not make a display of intolerance, or she,\ntoo, had better take the first train back home, since she is likely to\nfind New York very, very lonely.\n\n\n=HOW TOTAL STRANGERS ACQUIRE SOCIAL STANDING=\n\nWhen new people move into a community, bringing letters of introduction to\nprominent citizens, they arrive with an already made position, which ranks\nin direct proportion to the standing of those who wrote the introductions.\nSince, however, no one but \"persons of position\" are eligible to letters\nof importance, there would be no question of acquiring position--which\nthey have--but merely of adding to their acquaintance.\n\nAs said in another chapter, people of position are people of position the\nworld over, and all the cities strung around the whole globe are like so\nmany chapter-houses of a brotherhood, to which letters of introduction\nopen the doors.\n\nHowever, this is off the subject, which is to advise those who have no\nposition, or letters, how to acquire the former. It is a long and slow\nroad to travel, particularly long and slow for a man and his wife in a big\ncity. In New York people could live in the same house for generations, and\ndo, and not have their next door neighbor know them even by sight. But no\nother city, except London, is as unaware as that. When people move to a\nnew city, or town, it is usually because of business. The husband at least\nmakes business acquaintances, but the wife is left alone. The only thing\nfor her to do is to join the church of her denomination, and become\ninterested in some activity; not only as an opening wedge to\nacquaintanceships and possibly intimate friendships, but as an occupation\nand a respite from loneliness. Her social position is gained usually at a\nsnail's pace--nor should she do anything to hurry it. If she is a real\nperson, if she has qualities of mind and heart, if she has charming\nmanners, sooner or later a certain position will come, and in proportion\nto her eligibility.\n\nOne of the ladies with whom she works in church, having gradually learned\nto like her, asks her to her house. Nothing may ever come of this, but\nanother one also inviting her, may bring an introduction to a third, who\ntakes a fancy to her. This third lady also invites her where she meets an\nacquaintance she has already made on one of the two former occasions, and\nthis acquaintance in turn invites her. By the time she has met the same\npeople several times, they gradually, one by one, offer to go and see her,\nor ask her to come and see them. One inviolable rule she must not forget:\nit is fatal to be pushing or presuming. She must remain dignified always,\nnatural and sympathetic when anyone approaches her, but she should not\nherself approach any one more than half way. A smile, the more friendly\nthe better, is never out of place, but after smiling, she should pass on!\nNever grin weakly, and--cling!\n\nIf she is asked to go to see a lady, it is quite right to go. But not\nagain, until the lady has returned the visit, or asked her to her house.\nAnd if admitted when making a first visit, she should remember not to\nstay more than twenty minutes at most, since it is always wiser to make\nothers sorry to have her leave than run the risk of having the hostess\nwonder why her visitor doesn't know enough to go!\n\n\n=THE ENTRANCE OF AN OUTSIDER=\n\nThe outsider enters society by the same path, but it is steeper and longer\nbecause there is an outer gate of reputation called \"They are not people\nof any position\" which is difficult to unlatch. Nor is it ever unlatched\nto those who sit at the gate rattling at the bars, or plaintively peering\nin. The better, and the only way if she has not the key of birth, is\nthrough study to make herself eligible. Meanwhile, charitable, or civic\nwork, will give her interest and occupation as well as throw her with\nladies of good breeding, by association with whom she can not fail to\nacquire some of those qualities of manner before which the gates of\nsociety always open.\n\n\n=WHEN POSITION HAS BEEN ESTABLISHED=\n\nWhen her husband belongs to a club, or perhaps she does too, and the\nneighbors are friendly and those of social importance have called on her\nand asked her to their houses, a newcomer does not have to stand so\nexactly on the chalk line of ceremony as in returning her first visits and\nsending out her first invitations.\n\nAfter people have dined with each other several times, it is not at all\nimportant to consider whether an invitation is owed or paid several times\nover. She who is hospitably inclined can ask people half a dozen times to\ntheir once if she wants to, and they show their friendliness by coming.\nNor need visits be paid in alternate order. Once she is really accepted by\npeople she can be as friendly as she chooses.\n\nWhen Mrs. Oldname calls on Mrs. Stranger the first time, the latter may do\nnothing but call in return; it would be the height of presumption to\ninvite one of conspicuous prominence until she has first been invited by\nher. Nor may the Strangers ask the Oldnames to dine after being merely\ninvited to a tea. But when Mrs. Oldname asks Mrs. Stranger to lunch, the\nlatter might then invite the former to dinner, after which, if they\naccept, the Strangers can continue to invite them on occasion, whether\nthey are invited in turn or not; especially if the Strangers are\ncontinually entertaining, and the Oldnames are not. But on no account must\nthe Strangers' parties be arranged solely for the benefit of any\nparticular fashionables.\n\nThe Strangers can also invite to a party any children whom their own\nchildren know at school, and Mrs. Stranger can quite properly go to fetch\nher own children from a party to which their schoolmates invited them.\n\n\n=MONEY NOT ESSENTIAL TO SOCIAL POSITION=\n\nBachelors, unless they are very well off, are not expected to give\nparties; nor for that matter are very young couples. All hostesses go on\nasking single men and young people to their houses without it ever\noccurring to them that any return other than politeness should be made.\n\nThere are many couples, not necessarily in the youngest set either, who\nare tremendously popular in society in spite of the fact that they give no\nparties at all. The Lovejoys, for instance, who are clamored for\neverywhere, have every attribute--except money. With fewer clothes perhaps\nthan any fashionable young woman in New York, she can't compete with Mrs.\nBobo Gilding or Constance Style for \"smartness\" but, as Mrs. Worldly\nremarked: \"What would be the use of Celia Lovejoy's beauty if it depended\nupon continual variation in clothes?\"\n\nThe only \"entertaining\" the Lovejoys ever do is limited to afternoon tea\nand occasional welsh-rarebit suppers. But they return every bit of\nhospitality shown them by helping to make a party \"go\" wherever they are.\nBoth are amusing, both are interesting, both do everything well. They\ncan't afford to play cards for money, but they both play a very good game\nand the table is delighted to \"carry them,\" or they play at the same table\nagainst each other.\n\nThis, by the way, is another illustration of the conduct of a gentleman;\nif young Lovejoy played for money he would win undoubtedly in the long run\nbecause he plays unusually well, but to use card-playing as a \"means of\nmaking money\" would be contrary to the ethics of a gentleman, just as\nplaying for more than can be afforded turns a game into \"gambling.\"\n\n\n=AN ELUSIVE POINT ESSENTIAL TO SOCIAL SUCCESS=\n\nThe sense of whom to invite with whom is one of the most important, and\nelusive, points in social knowledge. The possession or lack of it is\nresponsible more than anything else for the social success of one woman,\nand the failure of another. And as it is almost impossible, without\nadvice, for any stranger anywhere to know which people like or dislike\neach other, the would-be hostess must either by means of natural talent or\nmore likely by trained attention, read the signs of liking or prejudice\nmuch as a woodsman reads a message in every broken twig or turned leaf.\n\nOne who can read expression, perceives at a glance the difference between\nfriendliness and polite aloofness. When a lady is unusually silent,\nstrictly impersonal in conversation, and entirely unapproachable,\nsomething is not to her liking. The question is, what? Or usually, whom?\nThe greatest blunder possible would be to ask her what the matter is. The\ncause of annoyance is probably that she finds someone distasteful and it\nshould not be hard for one whose faculties are not asleep to discover the\noffender and if possible separate them, or at least never ask them\ntogether again.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nCARDS AND VISITS\n\n\n=USEFULNESS OF CARDS=\n\nWho was it that said--in the Victorian era probably, and a man of\ncourse--\"The only mechanical tool ever needed by a woman is a hair-pin\"?\nHe might have added that with a hair-pin and a visiting card, she is ready\nto meet most emergencies.\n\nAlthough the principal use of a visiting card, at least the one for which\nit was originally invented--to be left as an evidence of one person's\npresence at the house of another--is going gradually out of ardent favor\nin fashionable circles, its usefulness seems to keep a nicely adjusted\nbalance. In New York, for instance, the visiting card has entirely taken\nthe place of the written note of invitation to informal parties of every\ndescription. Messages of condolence or congratulation are written on it;\nit is used as an endorsement in the giving of an order; it is even tacked\non the outside of express boxes. The only employment of it which is not as\nflourishing as formerly is its being left in quantities and with frequency\nat the doors of acquaintances. This will be explained further on.\n\n\n=A CARD'S SIZE AND ENGRAVING=\n\nThe card of a lady is usually from about 2-3/4 to 3-1/2 inches wide, by 2\nto 2-3/4 inches high, but there is no fixed rule. The card of a young girl\nis smaller and more nearly square in shape. (About 2 inches high by 2-1/2\nor 2-5/8 inches long, depending upon the length of the name.) Young girls\nuse smaller cards than older ladies. A gentleman's card is long and\nnarrow, from 2-7/8 to 3-1/4 inches long, and from 1-1/4 to 1-5/8 inches\nhigh. All visiting cards are engraved on white unglazed bristol board,\nwhich may be of medium thickness or thin, as one fancies. A few years ago\nthere was a fad for cards as thin as writing paper, but one seldom sees\nthem in America now. The advantage of a thin card is that a greater\nquantity may be carried easily.\n\nThe engraving most in use to-day is shaded block. Script is seldom seen,\nbut it is always good form and so is plain block, but with the exception\nof old English all ornate lettering should be avoided. All people who live\nin cities should have the address in the lower right corner, engraved in\nsmaller letters than the name. In the country, addresses are not\nimportant, as every one knows where every one else lives. People who have\ntown and country houses usually have separate cards, though not\nnecessarily a separate plate.\n\n\n=ECONOMICAL ENGRAVING=\n\nThe economically inclined can have several varieties of cards printed from\none plate. The cards would vary somewhat in size in order to \"center\" the\nwording.\n\nExample:\n\nThe plate:\n\n    Mr. and Mrs. Gilding\n            Miss Gilding\n\n\n                      00 FIFTH AVENUE\n                        GOLDEN HALL\n\nmay be printed.\n\nMiss Gilding's name should never appear on a card with both her mother's\nand father's, so her name being out of line under the \"Mr. and Mrs.\"\nengraving makes no difference.\n\nor\n\n    Mr. and Mrs. Gilding\n\n                 GOLDEN HALL\n\n\nor\n\n    Mrs. Gilding\n         Miss Gilding\n\n                 00 FIFTH AVENUE\n\nor\n\n    Mrs. Gilding\n\n\n                GOLDEN HALL\n\nThe personal card is in a measure an index of one's character. A fantastic\nor garish note in the type effect, in the quality or shape of the card,\nbetrays a lack of taste in the owner of the card.\n\nIt is not customary for a married man to have a club address on his card,\nand it would be serviceable only in giving a card of introduction to a\nbusiness acquaintance, under social rather than business circumstances, or\nin paying a formal call upon a political or business associate. Unmarried\nmen often use no other address than that of a club; especially if they\nlive in bachelor's quarters, but young men who live at home use their home\naddress.\n\n\n=CORRECT NAMES AND TITLES=\n\nTo be impeccably correct, initials should not be engraved on a visiting\ncard. A gentleman's card should read: Mr. John Hunter Titherington Smith,\nbut since names are sometimes awkwardly long, and it is the American\ncustom to cling to each and every one given in baptism, he asserts his\npossessions by representing each one with an initial, and engraves his\ncards Mr. John H.T. Smith, or Mr. J.H. Titherington Smith, as suits his\nfancy. So, although, according to high authorities, he should drop a name\nor two and be Mr. Hunter Smith, or Mr. Titherington Smith, it is very\nlikely that to the end of time the American man, and necessarily his wife,\nwho must use the name as he does, will go on cherishing initials.\n\nAnd a widow no less than a married woman should always continue to use her\nhusband's Christian name, or his name and another initial, engraved on her\ncards. She is Mrs. John Hunter Titherington Smith, or, to compromise, Mrs.\nJ.H. Titherington Smith, but she is _never_ Mrs. Sarah Smith; at least not\nanywhere in good society. In business and in legal matters a woman is\nnecessarily addressed by her own Christian name, because she uses it in\nher signature. But no one should ever address an envelope, except from a\nbank or a lawyer's office, \"Mrs. Sarah Smith.\" When a widow's son, who has\nthe name of his father, marries, the widow has Sr. added to her own name,\nor if she is the \"head\" of the family, she very often omits all Christian\nnames, and has her card engraved \"Mrs. Smith,\" and the son's wife calls\nherself Mrs. John Hunter Smith. Smith is not a very good name as an\nexample, since no one could very well claim the distinction of being _the_\nMrs. Smith. It, however, illustrates the point.\n\nFor the daughter-in-law to continue to use a card with Jr. on it when her\nhusband no longer uses Jr. on his, is a mistake made by many people. A\nwife always bears the name of her husband. To have a man and his mother\nuse cards engraved respectively Mr. J.H. Smith and Mrs. J.H. Smith and the\nson's wife a card engraved Mrs. J.H. Smith, Jr., would announce to\nwhomever the three cards were left upon, that Mr. and Mrs. Smith and\n_their_ daughter-in-law had called.\n\nThe cards of a young girl after she is sixteen have always \"Miss\" before\nher name, which must be her real and never a nick-name: Miss Sarah Smith,\nnot Miss Sally Smith.\n\nThe fact that a man's name has \"Jr.\" added at the end in no way takes the\nplace of \"Mr.\" His card should be engraved Mr. John Hunter Smith, Jr., and\nhis wife's Mrs. John Hunter Smith, Jr. Some people have the \"Jr.\" written\nout, \"junior.\" It is not spelled with a capital J if written in full.\n\nA boy puts Mr. on his cards when he leaves school, though many use cards\nwithout Mr. on them while in college. A doctor, or a judge, or a minister,\nor a military officer have their cards engraved with the abbreviation of\ntheir title: Dr. Henry Gordon; Judge Horace Rush; The Rev. William Goode;\nCol. Thomas Doyle.\n\nThe double card reads: Dr. and Mrs. Henry Gordon; Hon. and Mrs., etc.\n\nA woman who has divorced her husband retains the legal as well as the\nsocial right to use her husband's full name, in New York State at least.\nUsually she prefers, if her name was Alice Green, to call herself Mrs.\nGreen Smith; not Mrs. Alice Smith, and on no account Mrs. Alice\nGreen--unless she wishes to give the impression that she was the guilty\none in the divorce.\n\n\n=CHILDREN'S CARDS=\n\nThat very little children should have visiting cards is not so \"silly\" as\nmight at first thought be supposed. To acquire perfect manners, and those\ngraces of deportment that Lord Chesterfield so ardently tried to instil\ninto his son, training can not begin early enough, since it is through\nlifelong familiarity with the niceties of etiquette that much of the\ndistinction of those to the manner born is acquired.\n\nMany mothers think it good training for children to have their own cards,\nwhich they are taught not so much to leave upon each other after\n\"parties,\" as to send with gifts upon various occasions.\n\nAt the rehearsal of a wedding, the tiny twin flower girls came carrying\ntheir wedding present for the bride between them, to which they had\nthemselves attached their own small visiting cards. One card was bordered\nand engraved in pink, and the other bordered and engraved in blue, and the\naddress on each read \"_Chez Maman_.\"\n\nAnd in going to see a new baby cousin each brought a small 1830 bouquet,\nand sent to their aunt their cards, on which, after seeing the baby, one\nhad printed \"He is very little,\" and the other, \"It has a red face.\" This\nshows that if modern society believes in beginning social training in the\nnursery, it does not believe in hampering a child's natural expression.\n\n\n=SPECIAL CARDS AND WHEN TO USE THEM=\n\nThe double card, reading Mr. and Mrs., is sent with a wedding present, or\nwith flowers to a funeral, or with flowers to a d\u00e9butante, and is also\nused in paying formal visits.\n\nThe card on which a d\u00e9butante's name is engraved under that of her mother,\nis used most frequently when no coming-out entertainment has been given\nfor the daughter. Her name on her mother's card announces, wherever it is\nleft, that the daughter is \"grown\" and \"eligible\" for invitations. In the\nsame way a mother may leave her son's card with her own upon any of her\nown friends--especially upon those likely to entertain for young people.\nThis is the custom if a young man has been away at school and college for\nso long that he has not a large acquaintance of his own. It is, however,\ncorrect under any circumstances when formally leaving cards to leave those\nof all sons and daughters who are grown.\n\n\n=THE P.P.C. CARD=\n\nThis is merely a visiting card, whether of a lady or a gentleman, on which\nthe initials P.P.C. (_pour prendre cong\u00e9_--to take leave) are written in\nink in the lower left corner. This is usually left at the door, or sent by\nmail to acquaintances, when one is leaving for the season, or for good. It\nnever takes the place of a farewell visit when one has received especial\ncourtesy, nor is it in any sense a message of thanks for especial\nkindness. In either of these instances, a visit should be paid or a note\nof farewell and thanks written.\n\n\n=CARDS OF NEW OR TEMPORARY ADDRESS=\n\nIn cities where there is no Social Register or other printed society list,\none notifies acquaintances of a change of address by mailing a visiting\ncard.\n\nCards are also sent, with a temporary address written in ink, when one is\nin a strange city and wishes to notify friends where one is stopping.\n\nIt is also quite correct for a lady to mail her card with her temporary\naddress written on it to any gentleman whom she would care to see, and who\nshe is sure would like to see her.\n\n\n=WHEN CARDS ARE SENT=\n\nWhen not intending to go to a tea or a wedding reception (the invitation\nto which did not have R.s.v.p. on it and require an answer), one should\nmail cards to the hostess so as to arrive on the morning of the\nentertainment. To a tea given for a d\u00e9butante cards are enclosed in one\nenvelope and addressed:\n\n    Mrs. Gilding\n    Miss Gilding\n\n        00 Fifth Avenue\n              New York\n\nFor a wedding reception, cards are sent to Mr. and Mrs. ----, the mother\nand father of the bride, and another set of cards sent to Mr. and\nMrs. ----, the bride and bridegroom.\n\n\n=THE VISIT OF EMPTY FORM=\n\nNot so many years ago, a lady or gentleman, young girl or youth, who\nfailed to pay her or his \"party call\" after having been invited to Mrs.\nSocial-Leader's ball was left out of her list when she gave her next one.\nFor the old-fashioned hostess kept her visiting list with the precision\nof a bookkeeper in a bank; everyone's credit was entered or cancelled\naccording to the presence of her or his cards in the card receiver. Young\npeople who liked to be asked to her house were apt to leave an extra one\nat the door, on occasion, so that theirs should not be among the missing\nwhen the new list for the season was made up--especially as the more\nimportant old ladies were very quick to strike a name off, but seldom if\never known to put one back.\n\nBut about twenty years ago the era of informality set in and has been\ngaining ground ever since. In certain cities old-fashioned hostesses, it\nis said, exclude delinquents. But New York is too exotic and intractable,\nand the too exacting hostess is likely to find her tapestried rooms rather\nempty, while the younger world of fashion flocks to the crystal-fountained\nballroom of the new Spendeasy Westerns. And then, too, life holds so many\nother diversions and interests for the very type of youth which of\nnecessity is the vital essence of all social gaiety. Society can have\ndistinction and dignity without youth--but not gaiety. The country with\nits outdoor sports, its freedom from exacting conventions, has gradually\ndeflected the interest of the younger fashionables, until at present they\ncare very little whether Mrs. Toplofty and Mrs. Social-Leader ask them to\ntheir balls or not. They are glad enough to go, of course, but they don't\ncare enough for invitations to pay dull visits and to live up to the\nconventions of \"manners\" that old-fashioned hostesses demand. And as these\n\"rebels\" are invariably the most attractive and the most eligible youths,\nit has become almost an issue; a hostess must in many cases either invite\nnone but older people and the few young girls and men whose mothers have\nleft cards for them, or ignore convention and invite the rebels.\n\nIn trying to find out where the present indifference started, many ascribe\nit to Bobo Gilding, to whom entering a great drawing-room was more\nsuggestive of the daily afternoon tea ordeal of his early nursery days,\nthan a voluntary act of pleasure. He was long ago one of the first to\nrebel against old Mrs. Toplofty's exactions of party calls, by saying he\ndid not care in the least whether his great-aunt Jane Toplofty invited him\nto her stodgy old ball or not. And then Lucy Wellborn (the present Mrs.\nBobo Gilding) did not care much to go either if none of her particular men\nfriends were to be there. Little she cared to dance the cotillion with old\nColonel Bluffington or to go to supper with that odious Hector Newman.\n\nAnd so, beginning first with a few gilded youths, then including young\nsociety, the habit has spread until the obligatory paying of visits by\nyoung girls and men has almost joined the once universal \"day at home\" as\nbelonging to a past age. Do not understand by this that visits are never\npaid on other occasions. Visits to strangers, visits of condolence, and of\nother courtesies are still paid, quite as punctiliously as ever. But\nwithin the walls of society itself, the visit of formality is decreasing.\nOne might almost say that in certain cities society has become a family\naffair. Its walls are as high as ever, higher perhaps to outsiders, but\namong its own members, such customs as keeping visiting lists and having\ndays at home, or even knowing who owes a visit to whom, is not only\nunobserved but is unheard of.\n\nBut because punctilious card-leaving, visiting, and \"days at home\" have\ngone out of fashion in New York, is no reason why these really important\nobservances should not be, or are not, in the height of fashion elsewhere.\nNor, on the other hand, must anyone suppose because the younger\nfashionables in New York pay few visits and never have days at home, that\nthey are a bit less careful about the things which they happen to consider\nessential to good-breeding.\n\nThe best type of young men pay few, if any, party calls, because they work\nand they exercise, and whatever time is left over, if any, is spent in\ntheir club or at the house of a young woman, not t\u00eate-a-t\u00eate, but\ninvariably playing bridge. The Sunday afternoon visits that the youth of\nanother generation used always to pay, are unknown in this, because every\nman who can, spends the week-end in the country.\n\nIt is scarcely an exaggeration to say that not alone men, but many young\nmarried women of highest social position, except to send with flowers or\nwedding presents, do not use a dozen visiting cards a year. But there are\ncircumstances when even the most indifferent to social obligations must\nleave cards.\n\n\n=WHEN CARDS MUST BE LEFT=\n\nEtiquette absolutely demands that one leave a card within a few days after\ntaking a first meal in a lady's house; or if one has for the first time\nbeen _invited_ to lunch or dine with strangers, it is inexcusably rude not\nto leave a card upon them, whether one accepted the invitation or not.\n\nOne must also unfailingly return a first call, even if one does not care\nfor the acquaintance. Only a real \"cause\" can excuse the affront to an\ninnocent stranger that the refusal to return a first call would imply. If\none does not care to continue the acquaintance, one need not pay a second\nvisit.\n\nAlso a card is always left with a first invitation. Supposing Miss\nPhiladelphia takes a letter of introduction to Mrs. Newport--Mrs. Newport,\ninviting Miss Philadelphia to her house, would not think of sending her\ninvitation without also leaving her card. Good form demands that a visit\nbe paid before issuing a _first invitation_. Sometimes a note of\nexplanation is sent asking that the formality be waived, but it is _never_\ndisregarded, except in the case of an invitation from an older lady to a\nyoung girl. Mrs. Worldly, for instance, who has known Jim Smartlington\nalways, might, instead of calling on Mary Smith, to whom his engagement is\nannounced, write her a note, asking her to lunch or dinner. But in\ninviting Mrs. Greatlake of Chicago she would leave her card with her\ninvitation at Mrs. Greatlake's hotel.\n\nIt seems scarcely necessary to add that anyone not entirely heartless\nmust leave a card on, or send flowers to, an acquaintance who has suffered\na recent bereavement. One should also leave cards of inquiry or send\nflowers to sick people.\n\n\n=INVITATION IN PLACE OF RETURNED VISIT=\n\nBooks on etiquette seem agreed that sending an invitation does not cancel\nthe obligation of paying a visit--which may be technically correct--but\nfashionable people, who are in the habit of lunching or dining with each\nother two or three times a season, pay no attention to visits whatever.\nMrs. Norman calls on Mrs. Gilding. Mrs. Gilding invites the Normans to\ndinner. They go. A short time afterward Mrs. Norman invites the\nGildings--or the Gildings very likely again invite the Normans. Some\nevening at all events, the Gildings dine with the Normans. Someday, if\nMrs. Gilding happens to be leaving cards, she may leave them at the\nNormans--or she may not. Some people leave cards almost like the \"hares\"\nin a paper chase; others seldom if ever do. Except on the occasions\nmentioned in the paragraph before this, or unless there is an illness, a\ndeath, a birth, or a marriage, people in society invite each other to\ntheir houses and don't leave cards at all. Nor do they ever consider whose\n\"turn\" it is to invite whom.\n\n\n=\"NOT AT HOME\"=\n\nWhen a servant at a door says \"Not at home,\" this phrase means that the\nlady of the house is \"Not at home to visitors.\" This answer neither\nsignifies nor implies--nor is it intended to--that Mrs. Jones is out of\nthe house. Some people say \"Not receiving,\" which means actually the same\nthing, but the \"not at home\" is infinitely more polite; since in the\nformer you know she is in the house but won't see you, whereas in the\nlatter case you have the pleasant uncertainty that it is quite possible\nshe is out.\n\nTo be told \"Mrs. Jones is at home but doesn't want to see you,\" would\ncertainly be unpleasant. And to \"beg to be excused\"--except in a case of\nillness or bereavement--has something very suggestive of a cold shoulder.\nBut \"not at home\" means that she is not sitting in the drawing room behind\nher tea tray; that and nothing else. She may be out or she may be lying\ndown or otherwise occupied. Nor do people of the world find the slightest\nobjection if a hostess, happening to recognize the visitor as a particular\nfriend, calls out, \"Do come in! I _am_ at home to _you!_\" Anyone who talks\nabout this phrase as being a \"white lie\" either doesn't understand the\nmeaning of the words, or is going very far afield to look for untruth. To\nbe consistent, these over-literals should also exact that when a guest\ninadvertently knocks over a tea cup and stains a sofa, the hostess instead\nof saying \"It is nothing at all! Please don't worry about it,\" ought for\nthe sake of truth to say, \"See what your clumsiness has done! You have\nruined my sofa!\" And when someone says \"How are you?\" instead of answering\n\"Very well, thank you,\" the same truthful one should perhaps take an hour\nby the clock and mention every symptom of indisposition that she can\naccurately subscribe to.\n\nWhile \"not at home\" is merely a phrase of politeness, to say \"I am _out_\"\nafter a card has been brought to you is both an untruth and an inexcusable\nrudeness. Or to have an inquiry answered, \"I don't know, but I'll see,\"\nand then to have the servant, after taking a card, come back with the\nmessage \"Mrs. Jones is out\" can not fail to make the visitor feel\nrebuffed. Once a card has been admitted, the visitor _must_ be admitted\nalso, no matter how inconvenient receiving her may be. You may send a\nmessage that you are dressing but will be very glad to see her if she can\nwait ten minutes. The visitor can either wait or say she is pressed for\ntime. But if she does not wait, then _she_ is rather discourteous.\n\nTherefore, it is of the utmost importance always to leave directions at\nthe door such as, \"Mrs. Jones is not at home.\" \"Miss Jones will be home at\nfive o'clock,\" \"Mrs. Jones will be home at 5.30,\" or Mrs. Jones \"is at\nhome\" in the library to intimate friends, but \"not at home\" in the\ndrawing-room to acquaintances. It is a nuisance to be obliged to remember\neither to turn an \"in\" and \"out\" card in the hail, or to ring a bell and\nsay, \"I am going out,\" and again, \"I have come in.\" But whatever plan or\narrangement you choose, no one at your front door should be left in doubt\nand then repulsed. It is not only bad manners, it is bad housekeeping.\n\n\n=THE OLD-FASHIONED DAY AT HOME=\n\nIt is doubtful if the present generation of New Yorkers knows what a day\nat home is! But their mothers, at least, remember the time when the\nfashionable districts were divided into regular sections, wherein on a\ngiven day in the week, the whole neighborhood was \"at home.\" Friday sounds\nfamiliar as the day for Washington Square! And was it Monday for lower\nFifth Avenue? At all events, each neighborhood on the day of its own,\nsuggested a local f\u00eate. Ladies in visiting dresses with trains and bonnets\nand nose-veils and tight gloves, holding card cases, tripped demurely into\nthis house, out of that, and again into another; and there were always\nmany broughams and victorias slowly \"exercising\" up and down, and very\nsmart footmen standing with maroon or tan or fur rugs over their arms in\nfront of Mrs. Wellborn's house or Mrs. Oldname's, or the big house of Mrs.\nToplofty at the corner of Fifth Avenue. It must have been enchanting to be\na grown person in those days! Enchanting also were the C-spring victorias,\nas was life in general that was taken at a slow carriage pace and not at\nthe motor speed of to-day. The \"day at home\" is still in fashion in\nWashington, and it is ardently to be hoped that it also flourishes in many\ncities and towns throughout the country or that it will be revived, for it\nis a delightful custom--though more in keeping with Europe than America,\nwhich does not care for gentle paces once it has tasted swift. A certain\nyoung New York hostess announced that she was going to stay home on\nSaturday afternoons. But the men went to the country and the women to the\nopera, and she gave it up.\n\nThere are a few old-fashioned ladies, living in old-fashioned houses, and\nstill staying at home in the old-fashioned way to old-fashioned friends\nwho for decades have dropped in for a cup of tea and a chat. And there are\ntwo maiden ladies in particular, joint chatelaines of an imposingly\nbeautiful old house where, on a certain afternoon of the week, if you come\nin for tea, you are sure to meet not alone those prominent in the world of\nfashion, but a fair admixture of artists, scientists, authors; inventors,\ndistinguished strangers--in a word Best Society in its truest sense. But\ndays at home such as these are not easily duplicated; for few houses\npossess a \"salon\" atmosphere, and few hostesses achieve either the social\ntalent or the wide cultivation necessary to attract and interest so varied\nand brilliant a company.\n\n\n=MODERN CARD LEAVING: A QUESTIONABLE ACT OF POLITENESS=\n\nThe modern New York fashion in card-leaving is to dash as fast as possible\nfrom house to house, sending the chauffeur up the steps with cards,\nwithout ever asking if anyone is home. Some butlers announce \"Not at home\"\nfrom force of habit even when no question is asked. There are occasions\nwhen the visitors _must_ ask to see the hostess (see page 88); but cards\nare left without asking whether a lady is at home under the following\ncircumstances:\n\nCards are left on the mother of the bride, after a wedding, also on the\nmother of the groom.\n\nCards are also left after any formal invitation. Having been asked to\nlunch or dine with a lady whom you know but slightly you should leave your\ncard whether you accepted the invitation or not, within three days if\npossible, or at least within a week, of the date for which you were\ninvited. It is not considered necessary (in New York at least) to ask if\nshe is at home; promptness in leaving your card is, in this instance,\nbetter manners than delaying your \"party call\" and asking if she is at\nhome. This matter of asking at the door is one that depends upon the\ncustoms of each State and city, but as it is always wiser to err on the\nside of politeness, it is the better policy, if in doubt, to ask \"Is Mrs.\nBlank at home?\" rather than to run the risk of offending a lady who may\nlike to see visitors.\n\nA card is usually left with a first invitation to a stranger who has\nbrought a letter of introduction, but it is more polite--even though not\nnecessary--to ask to be received. Some ladies make it a habit to leave a\ncard on everyone on their visiting list once a season.\n\nIt is correct for the mother of a d\u00e9butante to leave her card as well as\nher daughter's on every lady who has invited the daughter to her house,\nand a courteous hostess returns all of these pasteboard visits. But\nneither visit necessitates closer or even further acquaintance.\n\n\n=VISITS WHICH EVERYONE MUST PAY=\n\nPaying visits differs from leaving cards in that you must ask to be\nreceived. A visit of condolence should be paid at once to a friend when a\ndeath occurs in her immediate family. A lady does not call on a gentleman,\nbut writes him a note of sympathy.\n\nIn going to inquire for sick people, you should ask to be received, and it\nis always thoughtful to take them gifts of books or fruit or flowers.\n\nIf a relative announces his engagement, you must at once go to see his\nfianc\u00e9e. Should she be out, you do not ask to see her mother. You do,\nhowever, leave a card upon both ladies and you ask to see her mother if\nreceived by the daughter.\n\nA visit of congratulation is also paid to a new mother and a gift\ninvariably presented to the baby.\n\n\n=MESSAGES WRITTEN ON CARDS=\n\n\"With sympathy\" or \"With deepest sympathy\" is written on your visiting\ncard with flowers sent to a funeral. This same message is written on a\ncard and left at the door of a house of mourning, if you do not know the\nfamily well enough to ask to be received.\n\n\"To inquire\" is often written on a card left at the house of a sick\nperson, but not if you are received.\n\nIn going to see a friend who is visiting a lady whom you do not know,\nwhether you should leave a card on the hostess as well as on your friend\ndepends upon the circumstances: if the hostess is one who is socially\nprominent and you are unknown, it would be better taste not to leave a\ncard on her, since your card afterward found without explanation might be\ninterpreted as an uncalled-for visit made in an attempt for a place on her\nlist. If, on the other hand, she is the unknown person and you are the\nprominent one, your card is polite, but unwise unless you mean to include\nher name on your list. But if she is one with whom you have many interests\nin common, then you may very properly leave a card for her.\n\nIn leaving a card on a lady stopping at a hotel or living in an apartment\nhouse, you should write her name in pencil across the top of your card, to\ninsure its being given to her, and not to some one else.\n\nAt the house of a lady whom you know well and whom you are sorry not to\nfind at home, it is \"friendly\" to write \"Sorry not to see you!\" or \"So\nsorry to miss you!\"\n\nTurning down a corner of a visiting card is by many intended to convey\nthat the visit is meant for all the ladies in the family. Other people\nmean merely to show that the card was left at the door in person and not\nsent in an envelope. Other people turn them down from force of habit and\nmean nothing whatever. But whichever the reason, more cards are bent or\ndog-eared than are left flat.\n\n\n=ENGRAVED CARDS ANNOUNCING ENGAGEMENT, BAD FORM=\n\nSomeone somewhere asked whether or not to answer an engraved card\nannouncing an engagement. The answer can have nothing to do with\netiquette, since an engraved announcement is unknown to good society. (For\nthe proper announcement of an engagement see page 304.)\n\n\n=WHEN PEOPLE SEE THEIR FRIENDS=\n\nFive o'clock is the informal hour when people are \"at home\" to friends.\nThe correct hour for leaving cards and paying formal visits is between\n3.30 and 4.30. One should hesitate to pay a visit at the \"tea hour\" unless\none is sure of one's welcome among the \"intimates\" likely to be found\naround the hostess's tea-table.\n\nMany ladies make it their practise to be home if possible at five o'clock,\nand their friends who know them well come in at that time. (For the\nafternoon tea-table and its customs, see page 171.)\n\n\n=INFORMAL VISITING OFTEN ARRANGED BY TELEPHONE=\n\nFor instance, instead of ringing her door-bell, Mrs. Norman calls Mrs.\nKindhart on the telephone: \"I haven't seen you for weeks! Won't you come\nin to tea, or to lunch--just you.\" Mrs. Kindhart answers, \"Yes, I'd love\nto. I can come this afternoon\"; and five o'clock finds them together over\nthe tea-table.\n\nIn the same way young Struthers calls up Millicent Gilding, \"Are you going\nto be in this afternoon?\" She says, \"Yes, but not until a quarter of six.\"\nHe says, \"Fine, I'll come then.\" Or she says, \"I'm so sorry, I'm playing\nbridge with Pauline--but I'll be in to-morrow!\" He says, \"All right, I'll\ncome to-morrow.\"\n\nThe younger people rarely ever go to see each other without first\ntelephoning. Or since even young people seldom meet except for bridge,\nmost likely it is Millicent Gilding who telephones the Struthers youth to\nask if he can't possibly get uptown before five o'clock to make a fourth\nwith Mary and Jim and herself.\n\n\n=HOW A FIRST VISIT IS MADE=\n\nIn very large cities, neighbors seldom call on each other. But if\nstrangers move into a neighborhood in a small town or in the country, or\nat a watering-place, it is not only unfriendly but uncivil for their\nneighbors not to call on them. The older residents always call on the\nnewer. And the person of greatest social prominence should make the first\nvisit, or at least invite the younger or less prominent one to call on\nher; which the younger should promptly do.\n\nOr two ladies of equal age or position may either one say, \"I wish you\nwould come to see me.\" To which the other replies \"I will with pleasure.\"\nMore usually the first one offers \"I should like to come to see you, if I\nmay.\" And the other, of course, answers \"I shall be delighted if you\nwill.\"\n\nThe first one, having suggested going to see the second, is bound in\npoliteness to do so, otherwise she implies that the acquaintance on second\nthought seems distasteful to her.\n\nEveryone invited to a wedding should call upon the bride on her return\nfrom the honeymoon. And when a man marries a girl from a distant place,\ncourtesy absolutely demands that his friends and neighbors call on her as\nsoon as she arrives in her new home.\n\n\n=ON OPENING THE DOOR TO A VISITOR=\n\nOn the hall table in every house, there should be a small silver, or other\ncard tray, a pad and a pencil. The nicest kind of pad is one that when\nfolded, makes its own envelope, so that a message when written need not be\nleft open. There are all varieties and sizes at all stationers.\n\nWhen the door-bell rings, the servant on duty, who can easily see the\nchauffeur or lady approaching, should have the card tray ready to present,\non the palm of the left hand. A servant at the door must never take the\ncards in his or her fingers.\n\n\n=CORRECT NUMBER OF CARDS TO LEAVE=\n\nWhen the visitor herself rings the door-bell and the message is \"not at\nhome,\" the butler or maid proffers the card tray on which the visitor lays\na card of her own and her daughter's for each lady in the house and a card\nof her husband's and son's for each lady and gentleman. But three is the\ngreatest number ever left of any one card. In calling on Mrs. Town, who\nhas three grown daughters and her mother living in the house, and a Mrs.\nStranger staying with her whom the visitor was invited to a luncheon to\nmeet, a card on each would need a packet of six. Instead, the visitor\nshould leave three--one for Mrs. Town, one for all the other ladies of the\nhouse, and one for Mrs. Stranger. In asking to be received, her query at\nthe door should be \"Are any of the ladies at home?\" Or in merely leaving\nher cards she should say \"For all of the ladies.\"\n\n\n=WHEN THE CALLER LEAVES=\n\nThe butler or maid must stand with the front door open until a visitor\nre-enters her motor, or if she is walking, until she has reached the\nsidewalk. It is bad manners ever to close the door in a visitor's face.\n\nWhen a chauffeur leaves cards, the door may be closed as soon as he turns\naway.\n\n\n=WHEN THE LADY OF THE HOUSE IS AT HOME=\n\nWhen the door is opened by a waitress or a parlor-maid and the mistress of\nthe house is in the drawing-room, the maid says \"This way, please,\" and\nleads the way. She goes as quickly as possible to present the card tray.\nThe guest, especially if a stranger, lags in order to give the hostess\ntime to read the name on the card.\n\nThe maid meanwhile moves aside, to make room for the approaching visitor,\nwho goes forward to shake hands with the hostess. If a butler is at the\ndoor, he reads the card himself, picking it up from the tray, and opening\nthe door of the drawing-room announces: \"Mrs. Soandso,\" after which he\nputs the card on the hall table.\n\nThe duration of a formal visit should be in the neighborhood of twenty\nminutes. But if other visitors are announced, the first one--on a very\nformal occasion--may cut her visit shorter. Or if conversation becomes\nespecially interesting, the visit may be prolonged five minutes or so. On\nno account must a visitor stay an hour!\n\nA hostess always rises when a visitor enters, unless the visitor is a\nvery young woman or man and she herself elderly, or unless she is seated\nbehind the tea-table so that rising is difficult. She should, however,\nalways rise and go forward to meet a lady much older than herself; but she\nnever rises from her tea-table to greet a man, unless he is quite old.\n\nIf the lady of the house is \"at home\" but up-stairs, the servant at the\ndoor leads the visitor into the reception room, saying \"Will you take a\nseat, please?\" and then carries the card to the mistress of the house.\n\nOn an exceptional occasion, such as paying a visit of condolence or\ninquiring for a convalescent, when the question as to whether he will be\nreceived is necessarily doubtful, a gentleman does not take off his coat\nor gloves, but waits in the reception room with his hat in his hand. When\nthe servant returning says either \"Will you come this way, please?\" or\n\"Mrs. Town is not well enough to see any one, but Miss Alice will be down\nin a moment,\" the visitor divests himself of his coat and gloves, which\nthe servant carries, as well as his hat, out to the front hall.\n\nAs said before, few men pay visits without first telephoning. But perhaps\ntwo or three times during a winter a young man, when he is able to get\naway from his office in time, will make a tea-time visit upon a hostess\nwho has often invited him to dinner or to her opera box. Under ordinary\ncircumstances, however, some woman member of his family leaves his card\nfor him after a dinner or a dance, or else it is not left at all.\n\nA gentleman paying visits, always asks if the hostess is at home. If she\nis, he leaves his hat and stick in the hall and also removes and leaves\nhis gloves--and rubbers should he be wearing them. If the hour is between\nfive and half-past, the hostess is inevitably at her tea-table, in the\nlibrary, to which, if he is at all well known to the servant at the door,\nhe is at once shown without being first asked to wait in the reception\nroom. A gentleman entering a room in which there are several people who\nare strangers, shakes hands with his hostess and slightly bows to all the\nothers, whether he knows them personally or not. He, of course, shakes\nhands with any who are friends, and with all men to whom he is introduced,\nbut with a lady only if she offers him her hand.\n\n\n=HOW TO ENTER A DRAWING-ROOM=\n\nTo know how to enter a drawing-room is supposed to be one of the supreme\ntests of good breeding. But there should be no more difficulty in entering\nthe drawing-room of Mrs. Worldly than in entering the sitting-room at\nhome. Perhaps the best instruction would be like that in learning to swim.\n\"Take plenty of time, don't struggle and don't splash about!\" Good manners\nsocially are not unlike swimming--not the \"crawl\" or \"overhand,\" but\nsmooth, tranquil swimming. (Quite probably where the expression \"in the\nswim\" came from anyway!) Before actually entering a room, it is easiest to\npause long enough to see where the hostess is. Never start forward and\nthen try to find her as an afterthought. The place to pause is on the\nthreshold--not half-way in the room. The way _not_ to enter a drawing-room\nis to dart forward and then stand awkwardly bewildered and looking about\nin every direction. A man of the world stops at the entrance of the room\nfor a scarcely perceptible moment, until he perceives the most\nunencumbered approach to the hostess, and he thereupon walks over to her.\nWhen he greets his hostess he pauses slightly, the hostess smiles and\noffers her hand; the gentleman smiles and shakes hands, at the same time\nbowing. A lady shakes hands with the hostess and with every one she knows\nwho is nearby. She bows to acquaintances at a distance and to strangers to\nwhom she is introduced.\n\n\n=HOW TO SIT GRACEFULLY=\n\nHaving shaken hands with the hostess, the visitor, whether a lady or a\ngentleman, looks about quietly, without hurry, for a convenient chair to\nsit down upon, or drop into. To sit gracefully one should not perch\nstiffly on the edge of a straight chair, nor sprawl at length in an easy\none. The perfect position is one that is easy, but dignified. In other\ndays, no lady of dignity ever crossed her knees, held her hands on her\nhips, or twisted herself sideways, or even _leaned back in her chair!_\nTo-day all these things are done; and the only etiquette left is on the\nsubject of how not to exaggerate them. No lady should cross her knees so\nthat her skirts go up to or above them; neither should her foot be thrust\nout so that her toes are at knee level. An arm a-kimbo is _not_ a graceful\nattitude, nor is a twisted spine! Everyone, of course, leans against a\nchair back, except in a box at the opera and in a ballroom, but a lady\nshould never throw herself almost at full length in a reclining chair or\non a wide sofa when she is out in public. Neither does a gentleman in\npaying a formal visit sit on the middle of his backbone with one ankle\nsupported on the other knee, and both as high as his head.\n\nThe proper way for a lady to sit is in the center of her chair, or\nslightly sideways in the corner of a sofa. She may lean back, of course,\nand easily; her hands relaxed in her lap, her knees together, or if\ncrossed, her foot must not be thrust forward so as to leave a space\nbetween the heel and her other ankle. On informal occasions she can lean\nback in an easy chair with her hands on the arms. In a ball dress a lady\nof distinction never leans back in a chair; one can not picture a\nbeautiful and high-bred woman, wearing a tiara and other ballroom jewels,\nleaning against anything. This is, however, not so much a rule of\netiquette as a question of beauty and fitness.\n\nA gentleman, also on very formal occasions, should sit in the center of\nhis chair; but unless it is a deep lounging one, he always leans against\nthe back and puts a hand or an elbow on its arms.\n\n\n=POSTSCRIPTS ON VISITS=\n\nA lady never calls on another under the sponsorship of a gentleman--unless\nhe is her husband or father. A young girl can very properly go with her\nfianc\u00e9 to return visit paid to her by members or friends of his family;\nbut she should not pay an initial visit unless to an invalid who has\nwritten her a note asking her to do so.\n\nIf, when arriving at a lady's house, you find her motor at the door, you\nshould leave your card as though she were not at home. If she happens to\nbe in the hall, or coming down the steps, you say \"I see you are going\nout, and I won't keep you!\"\n\nIf she insists on your coming in, you should stay only a moment. Do not,\nhowever, fidget and talk about leaving. Sit down as though your leaving\nimmediately were not on your mind, but after two or three minutes say\n\"Good-by\" and go.\n\nA young man may go to see a young girl as often as he feels inclined and\nshe cares to receive him. If she continually asks to be excused, or shows\nhim scant attention when he is talking to her, or in any other way\nindicates that he annoys or bores her, his visits should cease.\n\nIt is very bad manners to invite one person to your house and leave out\nanother with whom you are also talking. You should wait for an opportunity\nwhen the latter is not included in your conversation.\n\nIn good society ladies do not kiss each other when they meet either at\nparties or in public.\n\nIt is well to remember that nothing more blatantly stamps an ill-bred\nperson than the habit of patting, nudging or taking hold of people. \"Keep\nyour hands to yourself!\" might almost be put at the head of the first\nchapter of every book on etiquette.\n\nBe very chary of making any such remarks as \"I am afraid I have stayed too\nlong,\" or \"I must apologize for hurrying off,\" or \"I am afraid I have\nbored you to death talking so much.\" All such expressions are\nself-conscious and stupid. If you really think you are staying too long or\nleaving too soon or talking too much--don't!\n\n\n=AN INVALID'S VISIT BY PROXY=\n\nIt is not necessary that an invalid make any attempt to return the visits\nto her friends who are attentive enough to go often to see her. But if a\nstranger calls on her--particularly a stranger who may not know that she\nis always confined to the house, it is correct for a daughter or sister\nor even a friend to leave the invalid's card for her and even to pay a\nvisit should she find a hostess \"at home.\" In this event the visitor by\nproxy lays her own card as well as that of the invalid on the tray\nproffered her. Upon being announced to the hostess, she naturally explains\nthat she is appearing in place of her mother (or whatever relation the\ninvalid is to her) and that the invalid herself is unable to make any\nvisits.\n\nA lady never pays a party call on a gentleman. But if the gentleman who\nhas given a dinner has his mother (or sister) staying with him and if the\nmother (or sister) chaperoned the party, cards should of course be left\nupon her.\n\nHaving risen to go, _go_! Don't stand and keep your hostess standing while\nyou say good-by, and make a last remark last half an hour!\n\nFew Americans are so punctilious as to pay their dinner calls within\ntwenty-four hours; but it is the height of correctness and good manners.\n\nWhen a gentleman, whose wife is away, accepts some one's hospitality, it\nis correct for his wife to pay the party call with (or for) him, since it\nis taken for granted that she would have been included had she been at\nhome.\n\nIn other days a hostess thought it necessary to change quickly into a best\ndress if important company rang her door-bell. A lady of fashion to-day\nreceives her visitors at once in whatever dress she happens to be wearing,\nsince not to keep them waiting is the greater courtesy.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nINVITATIONS, ACCEPTANCES AND REGRETS\n\n\n=THE FORMAL INVITATION=\n\nAs an inheritance from the days when Mrs. Brown presented her compliments\nand begged that Mrs. Smith would do her the honor to take a dish of tea\nwith her, we still--notwithstanding the present flagrant disregard of\nold-fashioned convention--send our formal invitations, acceptances and\nregrets, in the prescribed punctiliousness of the third person.\n\nAll formal invitations, whether they are to be engraved or to be written\nby hand (and their acceptances and regrets) are invariably in the third\nperson, and good usage permits of no deviation from this form.\n\n\n=WEDDING INVITATIONS=\n\nThe invitation to the ceremony is engraved on the front sheet of white\nnote-paper. The smartest, at present, is that with a raised margin--or\nplate mark. At the top of the sheet the crest (if the family of the bride\nhas the right to use one) is embossed without color. Otherwise the\ninvitation bears no device. The engraving may be in script, block, shaded\nblock, or old English. The invitation to the ceremony should always\nrequest \"the honour\" of your \"presence,\" and never the \"pleasure\" of your\n\"company.\" (Honour is spelled in the old-fashioned way, with a \"u\" instead\nof \"honor.\")\n\n\n_Enclosed in Two Envelopes_\n\nTwo envelopes are never used except for wedding invitations or\nannouncements; but wedding invitations and all accompaning cards are\nalways enclosed first in an inner envelope that has no mucilage on the\nflap, and is superscribed \"Mr. and Mrs. Jameson Greatlake,\" without\naddress. This is enclosed in an outer envelope which is sealed and\naddressed:\n\n    Mr. and Mrs. Jameson Greatlake,\n        24 Michigan Avenue,\n            Chicago.\n\nTo those who are only \"asked to the church\" no house invitation is\nenclosed.\n\n\n=THE CHURCH INVITATION=\n\nThe proper form for an invitation to a church ceremony is:\n\n(_Form No. 1._)\n\n    Mr. and Mrs. John Huntington Smith\n    request the honour of your presence\n     at the marriage of their daughter\n             Mary Katherine\n                    to\n          Mr. James Smartlington\n      on Tuesday the first of November\n            at twelve o'clock\n          at St. John's Church\n         in the City of New York\n\n\n(_Form No. 2._)\n\n      Mr. and Mrs. John Huntington Smith\n            request the honour of\n          [HW: Miss Pauline Town's]\n    presence at the marriage of their daughter\n               Mary Katherine\n                     to\n          Mr. James Smartlington\n      on Tuesday the first of November\n             at twelve o'clock\n            at St. John's Church\n\n(_The size of invitations is 5-1/8 wide by 7-3/8 deep._)\n\n\n(_When the parents issue the invitations for a wedding at a house other\nthan their own._)\n\n         Mr. and Mrs. Richard Littlehouse\n\n              request the honour of\n\n\n\n    presence at the marriage of their daughter\n\n                      Betty\n\n                       to\n\n             Mr. Frederic Robinson\n\n       on Saturday the fifth of November\n\n                at four o'clock\n\n    at the house of Mr. and Mrs. Sterlington\n\n                 Tuxedo Park\n\n                  New York\n\n    R.s.v.p.\n\nNo variation is permissible in the form of a wedding invitation. Whether\nfifty guests are to be invited or five thousand, the paper, the engraving\nand the wording, and the double envelope are precisely the same.\n\n\n_Church Card of Admittance_\n\nIn cities or wherever the general public is not to be admitted, a card of\nabout the size of a small visiting card is enclosed with the church\ninvitation:\n\n      Please present this card,\n          at St. John's Church\n    on Tuesday the first of November\n\n\n_Cards to Reserved Pews_\n\nTo the family and very intimate friends who are to be seated in especially\ndesignated pews:\n\n    Please present this to an usher\n              Pew No.\n     on Thursday the ninth of May\n\nEngraved pew cards are ordered only for very big weddings where twenty or\nmore pews are to be reserved. The more usual custom--at all small and many\nbig weddings--is for the mother of the bride, and the mother of the\nbridegroom each to write on her personal visiting card:\n\n    [HW: Pew No. 7]\n\n       Mrs. John Huntington Smith\n\n              FOUR WEST THIRTY-SIXTH STREET\n\nA card for the reserved enclosure but no especial pew is often inscribed\n\"Within the Ribbons.\"\n\n\n=INVITATION TO THE HOUSE=\n\nThe invitation to the breakfast or reception following the church ceremony\nis engraved on a card to match the paper of the church invitation and is\nthe size of the latter after it is folded for the envelope:\n\n    Mr. and Mrs. John Huntington Smith\n\n        request the pleasure of\n\n    [HW: Mr. & Mrs. James Greatlake's]\n\n    company on Tuesday the first of November\n        at half after four o'clock\n      at Four West Thirty-sixth Street\n\n    R.s.v.p.\n\n\n=CEREMONY AND RECEPTION INVITATION IN ONE=\n\nOccasionally, especially for a country wedding, the invitation to the\nbreakfast or the reception is added to the one to the ceremony:\n\nMr. and Mrs. Alexander Chatterton request the\nhonour of\n\n           [HW: Mr. & Mrs. Worldly's]\n\n   presence at the marriage of their daughter\n\n                     Hester\n\n                       to\n\n             Mr. James Town, junior\n\n          on Tuesday the first of June\n\n                at three o'clock\n\n              at St. John's Church\n\n          and afterwards at Sunnylawn\n\n                   Ridgefield\n\n    R.s.v.p.\n\n\nOr the invitation reads \"at twelve o'clock, at St. John's Church, and\nafterwards at breakfast at Sunnylawn\"; but \"afterwards to the reception at\nSunnylawn\" is wrong.\n\n\n=THE INVITATION TO A HOUSE WEDDING=\n\nIs precisely the same except that \"at Sunnylawn\" or \"at Four West\nThirty-sixth Street\" is put in place of \"at St. John's Church,\" and an\ninvitation to stay on at a house, to which the guest is already invited,\nis not necessary.\n\n_The Train Card_\n\nIf the wedding is to be in the country, a train card is enclosed:\n\n    A special train will leave Grand Central Station at 12:45 P.M.,\n    arriving at Ridgefield at 2:45. Returning, train will leave\n    Ridgefield at 5:10 P.M., arriving New York at 7.02 P.M.\n\n    _Show this card at the gate._\n\n\n=INVITATION TO RECEPTION AND NOT TO CEREMONY=\n\nIt sometimes happens that the bride prefers none but her family at the\nceremony, and a big reception. This plan is chosen where the mother of the\nbride or other very near relative is an invalid. The ceremony may take\nplace at a bedside, or it may be that the invalid can go down to the\ndrawing-room with only the immediate families, and is unequal to the\npresence of many people.\n\nUnder these circumstances the invitations to the breakfast or reception\nare sent on sheets of note paper like that used for church invitations,\nbut the wording is:\n\n           Mr. and Mrs. Grantham Jones\n\n      request the pleasure of your company\n\n    at the wedding breakfast of their daughter\n\n                      Muriel\n\n                       and\n\n             Mr. Burlingame Ross, Jr.\n\n         on Saturday the first of November\n\n               at one o'clock\n\n         at Four East Thirty-Eighth Street\n\n    The favor of an\n    answer is requested\n\nThe \"pleasure of your company\" is requested in this case instead of the\n\"honour of your presence.\"\n\n\n=THE WRITTEN WEDDING INVITATION=\n\nIf a wedding is to be so small that no invitations are engraved, the notes\nof invitation should be personally written by the bride:\n\n    Sally Dear:\n\n    Our wedding is to be on Thursday the tenth at half-past twelve,\n    Christ Church Chantry. Of course we want you and Jack and the\n    children! And we want all of you to come afterward to Aunt\n    Mary's, for a bite to eat and to wish us luck.\n\n    Affectionately,\n    Helen.\n\nor\n\n    Dear Mrs. Kindhart:\n\n    Dick and I are to be married at Christ Church Chantry at noon on\n    Thursday the tenth. We both want you and Mr. Kindhart to come to\n    the church and afterward for a very small breakfast to my\n    Aunt's--Mrs. Slade--at Two Park Avenue.\n\n    With much love from us both,\n    Affectionately,\n    Helen.\n\n\n=WEDDING ANNOUNCEMENTS=\n\nIf no general invitations were issued to the church, an announcement\nengraved on note paper like that of the invitation to the ceremony, is\nsent to the entire visiting list of both the bride's and the groom's\nfamily:\n\n        Mr. and Mrs. Maynard Barnes\n\n        have the honour to announce\n\n       the marriage of their daughter\n\n                Priscilla\n\n                   to\n\n          Mr. Eben Hoyt Leaming\n\n    on Tuesday the twenty-sixth of April\n\n    One thousand nine hundred and twenty-two\n\n           in the City of New York\n\n\n=THE SECOND MARRIAGE=\n\n\n=INVITATIONS=\n\nInvitations to the marriage of a widow--if she is very young--are sent in\nthe name of her parents exactly as were the invitations to her first\nwedding, excepting that her name instead of being merely Priscilla is now\nwritten Priscilla Barnes Leaming, thus:\n\n        Mr. and Mrs. Maynard Barnes\n    request the honour of your presence\n      at the marriage of their daughter\n          Priscilla Barnes Leaming\n\n                    to\n\netc.\n\n\n=ANNOUNCEMENTS=\n\nFor a young widow's marriage are also the same as for a first wedding:\n\n    Mr. and Mrs. Maynard Barnes\n      have the honour to announce\n    the marriage of their daughter\n       Priscilla Barnes Leaming\n                to\n        Mr. Worthington Adams\n\netc. But the announcement of the marriage of a widow of maturer years is\nengraved on note paper and reads:\n\n        Mrs. Priscilla Barnes Leaming\n                     and\n             Mr. Worthington Adams\n    have the honour to announce their marriage\n         on Monday the second of November\n              at Saratoga Springs\n                   New York\n\n\n=CARDS OF ADDRESS=\n\nIf the bride and groom wish to inform their friends of their future\naddress (especially in cities not covered by the Social Register), it is\ncustomary to enclose a card with the announcement:\n\n    Mr. and Mrs. Worthington Adams\n\n          will be at home\n\n      after the first of December\n\n     at Twenty-five Alderney Place\n\nOr merely their visiting card with their new address in the lower right\ncorner:\n\n    Mr. and Mrs. Worthington Adams\n\n\n                    25 Alderney Place\n\n\n=INVITATION TO WEDDING ANNIVERSARY=\n\nFor a wedding anniversary celebration, the year of the wedding and the\npresent year are usually stamped across the top of an invitation.\nSometimes the couple's initials are added.\n\n               1898-1922\n\n        Mr. and Mrs. Alvin Johnson\n\n         request the pleasure of\n\n         [HW: Mr. & Mrs. ILLEGIBLE]\n\n             company at the\n\n  Twenty-fifth Anniversary of their marriage\n\n       on Wednesday the first of June\n\n              at nine o'clock\n\n         Twenty-four Austin Avenue\n\n    R.s.v.p.\n\n\n=ANSWERING A WEDDING INVITATION=\n\nAn invitation to the church only requires no answer whatever. An\ninvitation to the reception or breakfast is answered on the first page of\na sheet of note paper, and although it is written \"by hand\" the spacing of\nthe words must be followed as though they were engraved. This is the form\nof acceptance:\n\n    Mr. and Mrs. Robert Gilding, Jr.,\n        accept with pleasure\n    Mr. and Mrs. John Huntington Smith's\n        kind invitation for\n     Tuesday the first of June\n\nThe regret reads:\n\n        Mr. and Mrs. Richard Brown\n    regret that they are unable to accept\n    Mr. and Mrs. John Huntington Smith's\n           kind invitation for\n        Tuesday the first of June\n\n\n=OTHER FORMAL INVITATIONS=\n\nAll other formal invitations are engraved (never printed) on cards of thin\nwhite matte Bristol board, either plain or plate-marked like those for\nwedding reception cards. Note paper such as that used for wedding\ninvitations is occasionally, but rarely, preferred.\n\nMonograms, addresses, personal devices are not used on engraved\ninvitations.\n\nThe size of the card of invitation varies with personal preference from\nfour and a half to six inches in width, and from three to four and a half\ninches in height. The most graceful proportion is three units in height to\nfour in width.\n\nThe lettering is a matter of personal choice, but the plainer the design,\nthe better. Scrolls and ornate trimmings are bad taste always. Punctuation\nis used only after each letter of the R.s.v.p. and it is absolutely\ncorrect to use small letters for the s.v.p. Capitals R.S.V.P. are\npermissible; but fastidious people prefer \"R.s.v.p.\"\n\n\n=INVITATION TO A BALL=\n\nThe word \"ball\" is never used excepting in an invitation to a public one,\nor at least a semi-public one, such as may be given by a committee for a\ncharity or a club, or association of some sort.\n\nFor example:\n\n       The Committee of the Greenwood Club\n\n       request the pleasure of your company\n\n                  at a Ball\n\n      to be held in the Greenwood Clubhouse\n\n      on the evening of November the seventh\n\n               at ten o'clock.\n\n             for the benefit of\n\n         The Neighborhood Hospital\n\n\n    Tickets five dollars\n\nInvitations to a private ball, no matter whether the ball is to be given\nin a private house, or whether the hostess has engaged an entire floor of\nthe biggest hotel in the world, announce merely that Mr. and Mrs. Somebody\nwill be \"At Home,\" and the word \"dancing\" is added almost as though it\nwere an afterthought in the lower left corner, the words \"At Home\" being\nslightly larger than those of the rest of the invitation. When both \"At\"\nand \"Home\" are written with a capital letter, this is the most punctilious\nand formal invitation that it is possible to send. It is engraved in\nscript usually, on a card of white Bristol board about five and a half\ninches wide and three and three-quarters of an inch high. Like the wedding\ninvitation it has an embossed crest without color, or nothing.\n\nThe precise form is:\n\n    Mr. and Mrs. Titherington de Payster\n\n                  At Home\n\n      On Monday the third of January\n\n              at ten o'clock\n\n        One East Fiftieth Street\n\n    The favour of an answer\n    is requested                              Dancing\n\nor\n\n    Mr. and Mrs. Davis Jefferson\n\n            At Home\n\n    On Monday the third of January\n\n        at ten o'clock\n\n      Town and Country Club\n\n    Kindly send reply to\n    Three Mt. Vernon Square                  Dancing\n\n(_If preferred, the above invitations may be engraved in block or shaded\nblock type._)\n\n\n=BALL FOR D\u00c9BUTANTE DAUGHTER=\n\nVery occasionally an invitation is worded\n\n    Mr. and Mrs. Davis Jefferson\n\n       Miss Alice Jefferson\n\n            At Home\n\nif the daughter is a d\u00e9butante and the ball is for her, but it is not\nstrictly correct to have any names but those of the host and his wife\nabove the words \"At Home.\"\n\nThe proper form of invitation when the ball is to be given for a\nd\u00e9butante, is as follows:\n\n              Mr. and Mrs. de Puyster\n\n              request the pleasure of\n\n            [HW: Miss Rosalie Gray's]\n\n    company at a dance in honour of their daughter\n\n               Miss Alice de Puyster\n\n      on Monday evening, the third of January\n\n                 at ten o'clock\n\n            One East Fiftieth Street\n\n       R.s.v.p.\n\nor\n\n       Mr. and Mrs. Titherington de Puyster\n\n            Miss Alice de Puyster\n\n            request the pleasure of\n\n        [HW: Mr. and Mrs. Greatlake's]\n\n    company on Monday evening the third of January\n\n               at ten o'clock\n\n          One East Fiftieth Street\n\n    Dancing\n    R.s.v.p.\n\nThe form most often used by fashionable hostesses in New York and Newport\nis:\n\n         Mr. and Mrs. Gilding\n\n        request the pleasure of\n\n\n        company at a small dance\n\n     on Monday the first of January\n\n      at Ought Ought Fifth Avenue\n\nEven if given for a d\u00e9butante daughter, her name does not appear, and it\nis called a \"small dance,\" whether it is really small or big. The request\nfor a reply is often omitted, since everyone is supposed to know that an\nanswer is necessary. But if the dance, or dinner, or whatever the\nentertainment is to be, is given at one address and the hostess lives at\nanother, both addresses are always given:\n\n       Mr. and Mrs. Sidney Oldname\n\n          request the pleasure of\n\n\n           company at a dance\n\n    on Monday evening the sixth of January\n\n            at ten o'clock\n\n           The Fitz-Cherry\n\n\n    Kindly send response to\n    Brookmeadows\n    L.I.\n\nIf the dance is given for a young friend who is not a relative, Mr. and\nMrs. Oldname's invitations should\n\n       request the pleasure of\n\n\n    company at a dance in honour of\n\n          Miss Rosalie Grey\n\n\n=WHEN AND HOW ONE MAY ASK FOR AN INVITATION FOR A STRANGER=\n\nOne may never ask for an invitation for oneself anywhere! And one may not\nask for an invitation to a luncheon or a dinner for a stranger. But an\ninvitation for any general entertainment may be asked for a\nstranger--especially for a house-guest.\n\nExample:\n\n    Dear Mrs. Worldly,\n\n    A young cousin of mine, David Blakely from Chicago, is staying\n    with us.\n\n    May Pauline take him to your dance on Friday? If it will be\n    inconvenient for you to include him, please do not hesitate to\n    say so frankly.\n\n    Very sincerely yours,\n    Caroline Robinson Town.\n\nAnswer:\n\n    Dear Mrs. Town,\n\n    I shall be delighted to have Pauline bring Mr. Blakely on the\n    tenth.\n\n    Sincerely yours,\n    Edith Worldly.\n\nOr\n\nA man might write for an invitation for a friend. But a very young girl\nshould not ask for an invitation for a man--or anyone--since it is more\nfitting that her mother ask for her. An older girl might say to Mrs.\nWorldly, \"My cousin is staying with us, may I bring him to your dance?\" Or\nif she knows Mrs. Worldly very well she might send a message by telephone:\n\"Miss Town would like to know whether she may bring her cousin, Mr.\nMichigan, to Mrs. Worldly's dance.\"\n\n\n=CARD OF GENERAL INVITATION=\n\nInvitations to important entertainments are nearly always especially\nengraved, so that nothing is written except the name of the person\ninvited; but, for the hostess who entertains constantly, a card which is\nengraved in blank, so that it may serve for dinner, luncheon, dance,\ngarden party, musical, or whatever she may care to give, is indispensable.\n\nThe spacing of the model shown below, the proportion of the words, and the\nsize of the card, are especially good.\n\n        Mrs. Stevens\n\n        requests the pleasure of\n\n\n        company at\n\n          on\n\n            at          o'clock\n\n            Two Elm Place\n\n\n=THE DINNER INVITATION=\n\nThe blank which may be used only for dinner:\n\n    Mr. and Mrs. Huntington Jones\n\n       request the pleasure of\n\n\n         company at dinner\n\n                on\n\n         at eight o'clock\n\n    at Two Thousand Fifth Avenue\n\n(_For type and spacing follow model on p. 118._)\n\n\n=INVITATIONS TO RECEPTIONS AND TEAS=\n\nInvitations to receptions and teas differ from invitations to balls in\nthat the cards on which they are engraved are usually somewhat smaller,\nthe words \"At Home\" with capital letters are changed to \"will be at home\"\nwith small letters, and the time is not set at the hour. Also, except on\nvery unusual occasions, a man's name does not appear. The name of the\nd\u00e9butante for whom the tea is given is put under that of her mother, and\nsometimes under that of her sister or the bride of her brother.\n\n            Mrs. James Town\n\n        Mrs. James Town, junior\n\n           Miss Pauline Town\n\n            will be at home\n\n    On Tuesday the eighth of December\n\n      from four until six o'clock\n\n       Two Thousand Fifth Avenue.\n\nMr. Town's name would probably appear with that of his wife if he were an\nartist, and the reception was given in his studio to view his pictures, or\nif a reception were given to meet a distinguished guest such as a bishop\nor a governor, in which case \"In honour of the Right Reverend William\nPowell,\" or \"To meet His Excellency the Governor,\" is at the top of the\ninvitation.\n\n\n=THE FORMAL INVITATION WHICH IS WRITTEN=\n\nWhen the formal invitation to dinner or lunch is written instead of\nengraved, note paper stamped with house or personal device is used. The\nwording and spacing must follow the engraved models exactly.\n\n        350 PARK AVENUE\n\n     Mr. and Mrs. John Kindhart\n\n     request the pleasure of\n\n  Mr. and Mrs. Robert Gilding Jr.'s\n\n        company at Dinner\n\n  on Tuesday the sixth of December\n\n        at eight o'clock.\n\nIt must _not_ be written:\n\n350 PARK AVENUE\n\nTELEPHONE 7572 PLAZA\n\nMr. & Mrs. J. Kindhart request the pleasure of Mr. & Mrs. James\nTown's Company at Dinner on Tuesday etc.\n\nThe foregoing example has four faults:\n\n(1) Letters in the third person must follow the prescribed form. This does\nnot. (2) The writing is crowded against the margin. (3) The telephone\nnumber should be used only for business and informal notes and letters.\n(4) The full name John should be used instead of the initial \"J.\" \"Mr. and\nMrs.\" is better form than \"Mr. & Mrs.\"\n\n\n=RECALLING AN INVITATION=\n\nIf for illness or other reason invitations have to be recalled the\nfollowing forms are correct. They are always printed instead of engraved,\nthere being no time for engraving.\n\n           Owing to sudden illness\n        Mr. and Mrs. John Huntington Smith\n      are obliged to recall their invitations\n         for Tuesday the tenth of June.\n\nThe form used when the invitation is postponed:\n\n      Mr. and Mrs. John Huntington Smith\n             regret exceedingly\n    that owing to the illness of Mrs. Smith\n     their dance is temporarily postponed.\n\nWhen a wedding is broken off after the invitations have been issued:\n\n    Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Nottingham\n               announce\n    that the marriage of their daughter\n            Mary Katharine\n                 and\n         Mr. Jerrold Atherton\n         will not take place\n\n\n=FORMAL ACCEPTANCE OR REGRET=\n\nAcceptances or regrets are always written. An engraved form to be filled\nin is vulgar--nothing could be in worse taste than to flaunt your\npopularity by announcing that it is impossible to answer your numerous\ninvitations without the time-saving device of a printed blank. If you have\na dozen or more invitations a day, if you have a hundred, hire a staff of\nsecretaries if need be, but answer \"by hand.\"\n\nThe formal acceptance to an invitation, whether it is to a dance, wedding\nbreakfast or a ball, is identical:\n\n    Mr. and Mrs. Donald Lovejoy\n\n       accept with pleasure\n\n       Mr. and Mrs. Smith's\n\n     kind invitation for dinner\n\n    on Monday the tenth of December\n\n        at eight o'clock\n\nThe formula for regret:\n\n              Mr. Clubwin Doe\n    regrets extremely that a previous engagement\n          prevents his accepting\n           Mr. and Mrs. Smith's\n        kind invitation for dinner\n      on Monday the tenth of December\n\nor\n\n        Mr. and Mrs. Timothy Kerry\n\n    regret that they are unable to accept\n\n          Mr. and Mrs. Smith's\n\n        kind invitation for dinner\n\n      on Monday the tenth of December\n\nIn accepting an invitation the day and hour must be repeated, so that in\ncase of mistake it may be rectified and prevent one from arriving on a day\nwhen one is not expected. But in declining an invitation it is not\nnecessary to repeat the hour.\n\n\n=VISITING CARD INVITATIONS=\n\nWith the exception of invitations to house-parties, dinners and luncheons,\nthe writing of notes is past. For an informal dance, musical, picnic, for\na tea to meet a guest, or for bridge, a lady uses her ordinary visiting\ncard:\n\n     To meet Miss Millicent Gilding\n\n          =MRS. JOHN KINDHART=\n\nTues. Jan. 7. Dancing at 10. o'ck. 350 PARK AVENUE\n\nor\n\n   Wed. Jan. 8. Bridge at 4. o'ck.\n\n       =MRS. JOHN KINDHART=\n\n    R.s.v.p. 350 PARK AVENUE\n\nAnswers to invitations written on visiting cards are always formally\nworded in the third person, precisely as though the invitation had been\nengraved.\n\n\n=INVITATIONS IN THE SECOND PERSON=\n\nThe informal dinner and luncheon invitation is not spaced according to set\nwords on each line, but is written merely in two paragraphs. Example:\n\n\n    Dear Mrs. Smith:\n\n    Will you and Mr. Smith dine with us on Thursday, the seventh of\n    January, at eight o'clock?\n\n    Hoping so much for the pleasure of seeing you,\n\n    Very sincerely,\n\n           Caroline Robinson Town.\n\n\n=THE INFORMAL NOTE OF ACCEPTANCE OR REGRET=\n\n    Dear Mrs. Town:\n\n    It will give us much pleasure to dine with you on Thursday the\n    seventh, at eight o'clock.\n\n    Thanking you for your kind thought of us,\n\n    Sincerely yours,\n\n             Margaret Smith.\n\nWednesday.\n\nor\n\n    Dear Mrs. Town:\n\n    My husband and I will dine with you on Thursday the seventh, at\n    eight o'clock, with greatest pleasure.\n\n    Thanking you so much for thinking of us,\n\n    Always sincerely,\n\n                Margaret Smith.\n\nor\n\n    Dear Mrs. Town:\n\n    We are so sorry that we shall be unable to dine with you on the\n    seventh, as we have a previous engagement.\n\n    With many thanks for your kindness in thinking of us,\n\n    Very sincerely,\n\n          Ethel Norman.\n\n\n=INVITATION TO COUNTRY HOUSE=\n\nTo an intimate friend:\n\n    Dear Sally:\n\n    Will you and Jack (and the baby and nurse, of course) come out\n    the 28th (Friday), and stay for ten days? Morning and evening\n    trains take only forty minutes, and it won't hurt Jack to commute\n    for the weekdays between the two Sundays! I am sure the country\n    will do you and the baby good, or at least it will do me good to\n    have you here.\n\n    With much love, affectionately,\n                          Ethel Norman.\n\nTo a friend of one's daughter:\n\n    Dear Mary:\n\n    Will you and Jim come on Friday the first for the Worldly dance,\n    and stay over Sunday? Muriel asks me to tell you that Helen and\n    Dick, and also Jimmy Smith are to be here and she particularly\n    hopes that you will come, too.\n\n    The three-twenty from New York is the best train--much. Though\n    there is a four-twenty and a five-sixteen, in case Jim is not\n    able to take the earlier one.\n\n    Very sincerely,\n\n                          Alice Jones.\n\nConfirming a verbal invitation:\n\n    Dear Helen:\n\n    This note is merely to remind you that you and Dick are coming\n    here for the Worldly dance on the sixth. Mother is expecting you\n    on the three-twenty train, and will meet you here at the station.\n\n    Affectionately,\n    Muriel.\n\nInvitation to a house party at a camp:\n\n    Dear Miss Strange:\n\n    Will you come up here on the sixth of September and stay until\n    the sixteenth? It would give us all the greatest pleasure. There\n    is a train leaving Broadway Station at 8.03 A.M. which will get\n    you to Dustville Junction at 5 P.M. and here in time for supper.\n\n    It is only fair to warn you that the camp is very primitive; we\n    have no luxuries, but we can make you fairly comfortable if you\n    like an outdoor life and are not too exacting. Please do not\n    bring a maid or any clothes that the woods or weather can ruin.\n    You will need nothing but outdoor things: walking boots (if you\n    care to walk), a bathing suit (if you care to swim in the lake),\n    and something comfortable rather than smart for evening (if you\n    care to dress for supper). But on no account bring evening, or\n    any _good_ clothes!\n\n    Hoping so much that camping appeals to you and that we shall see\n    you on the evening of the sixth,\n\n    Very sincerely yours,\n    Martha Kindhart.\n\n\n=THE INVITATION BY TELEPHONE=\n\nCustom which has altered many ways and manners has taken away all\nopprobrium from the message by telephone, and with the exception of those\nof a very small minority of letter-loving hostesses, all informal\ninvitations are sent and answered by telephone. Such messages, however,\nfollow a prescribed form:\n\n    \"Is this Lenox 0000? Will you please ask Mr. and Mrs. Smith if\n    they will dine with Mrs. Grantham Jones next Tuesday the tenth at\n    eight o'clock? Mrs. Jones' telephone number is Plaza, one two\n    ring two.\"\n\nThe answer:\n\n    \"Mr. and Mrs. Huntington Smith regret that they will be unable to\n    dine with Mrs. Jones on Tuesday the tenth, as they are engaged\n    for that evening.\n\nOr\n\n    \"Will you please tell Mrs. Jones that Mr. and Mrs. Huntington\n    Smith are very sorry that they will be unable to dine with her\n    next Tuesday, and thank her for asking them.\"\n\nOr\n\n    \"Please tell Mrs. Jones that Mr. and Mrs. Huntington Smith will\n    dine with her on Tuesday the tenth, with pleasure.\"\n\nThe formula is the same, whether the invitation is to dine or lunch, or\nplay bridge or tennis, or golf, or motor, or go on a picnic.\n\n    \"Will Mrs. Smith play bridge with Mrs. Grantham Jones this\n    afternoon at the Country Club, at four o'clock?\"\n\n    \"Hold the wire please * * * Mrs. Jones will play bridge, with\n    pleasure at four o'clock.\"\n\nIn many houses, especially where there are several grown sons or\ndaughters, a blank form is kept in the pantry:\n\n    Will\n                   with M\n    on the\n    at            o'clock.            Telephone number\n                   Accept\n                   Regret\n\nThese slips are taken to whichever member of the family has been invited,\nwho crosses off \"regret\" or \"accept\" and hands the slip back for\ntransmission by the butler, the parlor-maid or whoever is on duty in the\npantry.\n\nIf Mr. Smith and Mrs. Jones are themselves telephoning there is no long\nconversation, but merely:\n\n    Mrs. Jones:\n\n    \"Is that you Mrs. Smith (or Sarah)? This is Mrs. Jones (or\n    Alice). Will you and your husband (or John) dine with us\n    to-morrow at eight o'clock?\"\n\n    Mrs. Smith:\n\n    \"I'm so sorry we can't. We are dining with Mabel.\"\n\nOr\n\n    \"We have people coming here.\"\n\nInvitations to a house party are often as not telephoned:\n\n    \"Hello, Ethel? This is Alice. Will you and Arthur come on the\n    sixteenth for over Sunday?\"\n\n    \"The sixteenth? That's Friday. We'd love to!\"\n\n    \"Will you take the 3:20 train? etc.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"A GEM OF A HOUSE MAY BE NO SIZE AT ALL, BUT ITS LINES\nARE HONEST, AND ITS PAINTING AND WINDOW CURTAINS IN GOOD TASTE ... AND ITS\nBELL IS ANSWERED PROMPTLY BY A TRIM MAID WITH A LOW VOICE AND QUIET,\nCOURTEOUS MANNER.\" [Page 131.]]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nTHE WELL-APPOINTED HOUSE\n\n\nEvery house has an outward appearance to be made as presentable as\npossible, an interior continually to be set in order, and incessantly to\nbe cleaned. And for those that dwell within it there are meals to be\nprepared and served; linen to be laundered and mended; personal garments\nto be brushed and pressed; and perhaps children to be cared for. There is\nalso a door-bell to be answered in which manners as well as appearance\ncome into play.\n\nBeyond these fundamental necessities, luxuries can be added indefinitely,\nsuch as splendor of architecture, of gardening, and of furnishing, with\nevery refinement of service that executive ability can produce. With all\nthis genuine splendor possible only to the greatest establishments, a\nlittle house can no more compete than a diamond weighing but half a carat\ncan compete with a stone weighing fifty times as much. And this is a good\nsimile, because the perfect little house may be represented by a corner\ncut from precisely the same stone and differing therefore merely in size\n(and value naturally), whereas the house in bad taste and improperly run\nmay be represented by a diamond that is off color and full of flaws; or in\nsome instances, merely a piece of glass that to none but those as ignorant\nas its owner, for a moment suggests a gem of value.\n\nA gem of a house may be no size at all, but its lines are honest, and its\npainting and window curtains in good taste. As for its upkeep, its path or\nsidewalk is beautifully neat, steps scrubbed, brasses polished, and its\nbell answered promptly by a trim maid with a low voice and quiet courteous\nmanner; all of which contributes to the impression of \"quality\" evens\nthough it in nothing suggests the luxury of a palace whose opened bronze\ndoor reveals a row of powdered footmen.\n\nBut the \"mansion\" of bastard architecture and crude paint, with its brass\nindifferently clean, with coarse lace behind the plate glass of its\ngolden-oak door, and the bell answered at eleven in the morning by a\nbutler in an ill fitting dress suit and wearing a mustache, might as well\nbe placarded: \"Here lives a vulgarian who has never had an opportunity to\nacquire cultivation.\" As a matter of fact, the knowledge of how to make a\nhouse distinguished both in appearance and in service, is a much higher\ntest than presenting a distinguished appearance in oneself and acquiring\npresentable manners. There are any number of people who dress well, and in\nevery way appear well, but a lack of breeding is apparent as soon as you\ngo into their houses. Their servants have not good manners, they are not\nproperly turned out, the service is not well done, and the decorations and\nfurnishings show lack of taste and inviting arrangement.\n\nThe personality of a house is indefinable, but there never lived a lady of\ngreat cultivation and charm whose home, whether a palace, a farm-cottage\nor a tiny apartment, did not reflect the charm of its owner. Every visitor\nfeels impelled to linger, and is loath to go. Houses without personality\nare a series of rooms with furniture in them. Sometimes their lack of\ncharm is baffling; every article is \"correct\" and beautiful, but one has\nthe feeling that the decorator made chalk-marks indicating the exact spot\non which each piece of furniture is to stand. Other houses are filled with\nthings of little intrinsic value, often with much that is shabby, or they\nare perhaps empty to the point of bareness, and yet they have that\n\"inviting\" atmosphere, and air of unmistakable quality which is an\nunfailing indication of high-bred people.\n\n\n=\"BECOMING\" FURNITURE=\n\nSuitability is the test of good taste always. The manner to the moment,\nthe dress to the occasion, the article to the place, the furniture to the\nbackground. And yet to combine many periods in one and commit no\nanachronism, to put something French, something Spanish, something\nItalian, and something English into an American house and have the\nresult the perfection of American taste--is a feat of legerdemain that has\nbeen accomplished time and again.\n\n[Illustration: \"THE PERSONALITY OF A HOUSE IS INDEFINABLE, BUT THERE NEVER\nLIVED A LADY OF GREAT CULTIVATION AND CHARM WHOSE HOME, WHETHER A PALACE,\nA FARM-COTTAGE OR A TINY APARTMENT, DID NOT REFLECT THE CHARM OF ITS\nOWNER.\" [Page 132.]]\n\nA woman of great taste follows fashion in house furnishing, just as she\nfollows fashion in dress, in general principles only. She wears what is\nbecoming to her own type, and she puts in her house only such articles as\nare becoming to it.\n\nThat a quaint old-fashioned house should be filled with quaint\nold-fashioned pieces of furniture, in size proportionate to the size of\nthe rooms, and that rush-bottomed chairs and rag-carpets have no place in\na marble hall, need not be pointed out. But to an amazing number of\npersons, proportion seems to mean nothing at all. They will put a huge\npiece of furniture in a tiny room so that the effect is one of painful\nindigestion; or they will crowd things all into one corner--so that it\nseems about to capsize; or they will spoil a really good room by the\naddition of senseless and inappropriately cluttering objects, in the\nbelief that because they are valuable they must be beautiful, regardless\nof suitability. Sometimes a room is marred by \"treasures\" clung to for\nreasons of sentiment.\n\n\n=THE BLINDNESS OF SENTIMENT=\n\nIt is almost impossible for any of us to judge accurately of things which\nwe have throughout a lifetime been accustomed to. A chair that was\ngrandmother's, a painting father bought, the silver that has always been\non the dining table--are all so part of ourselves that we are\nsentiment-blind to their defects.\n\nFor instance, the portrait of a Colonial officer, among others, has always\nhung in Mrs. Oldname's dining-room. One day an art critic, whose knowledge\nwas better than his manners, blurted out, \"Will you please tell me why you\nhave that dreadful thing in this otherwise perfect room?\" Mrs. Oldname,\nsomewhat taken back, answered rather wonderingly: \"Is it\ndreadful?--Really? I have a feeling of affection for him and his dog!\"\n\nThe critic was merciless. \"If you call a cotton-flannel effigy, a dog! And\nas for the figure, it is equally false and lifeless! It is amazing how\nany one with your taste can bear looking at it!\" In spite of his rudeness,\nMrs. Oldname saw that what he said was quite true, but not until the fact\nhad been pointed out to her. Gradually she grew to dislike the poor\nofficer so much that he was finally relegated to the attic. In the same\nway most of us have belongings that have \"always been there\" or perhaps\n\"treasures\" that we love for some association, which are probably as bad\nas can be, to which habit has blinded us, though we would not have to be\ntold of their hideousness were they seen by us in the house of another.\n\nIt is not to be expected that all people can throw away every esthetically\nunpleasing possession, with which nearly every house twenty-five years ago\nwas filled, but those whose pocket-book and sentiment will permit, would\nadd greatly to the beauty of their houses by sweeping the bad into the ash\ncan! Far better have stone-ware plates that are good in design than\nexpensive porcelain that is horrible in decoration.\n\nThe only way to determine what is good and what is horrible is to study\nwhat is good in books, in museums, or in art classes in the universities,\nor even by studying the magazines devoted to decorative art.\n\nBe very careful though. Do not mistake modern eccentricities for \"art.\"\nThere are frightful things in vogue to-day--flamboyant colors, grotesque,\ntriangular and oblique designs that can not possibly be other than bad,\nbecause aside from striking novelty, there is nothing good about them. By\nno standard can a room be in good taste that looks like a perfume\nmanufacturer's phantasy or a design reflected in one of the distorting\nmirrors that are mirth-provokers at county fairs.\n\n\n=TO DETERMINE AN OBJECT'S WORTH=\n\nIn buying an article for a house one might formulate for oneself a few\ntest questions:\n\nFirst, is it useful? Anything that is really useful has a reason for\nexistence.\n\nSecond, has it _really_ beauty of form and line and color?\n\n(Texture is not so important.) Or is it merely striking, or amusing?\n\nThird, is it entirely suitable for the position it occupies?\n\nFourth, if it were eliminated would it be missed? Would something else\nlook as well or better, in its place? Or would its place look as well\nempty? A truthful answer to these questions would at least help in\ndetermining its value, since an article that failed in any of them could\nnot be \"perfect.\"\n\nFashion affects taste--it is bound to. We abominate Louis the Fourteenth\nand Empire styles at the moment, because curves and super-ornamentation\nare out of fashion; whether they are really bad or not, time alone can\ntell. At present we are admiring plain silver and are perhaps exacting\nthat it be too plain? The only safe measure of what is good, is to choose\nthat which has best endured. The \"King\" and the \"Fiddle\" pattern for flat\nsilver, have both been in use in houses of highest fashion ever since they\nwere designed, so that they, among others, must have merit to have so long\nendured.\n\nIn the same way examples of old potteries and china and glass, at present\nbeing reproduced, are very likely good, because after having been for a\ncentury or more in disuse, they are again being chosen. Perhaps one might\nsay that the \"second choice\" is \"proof of excellence.\"\n\n\n=SERVICE=\n\nThe subject of furnishings is however the least part of this\nchapter--appointments meaning decoration being of less importance (since\nthis is not a book on architecture or decoration!), than appointments\nmeaning _service_.\n\nBut before going into the various details of service, it might be a good\nmoment to speak of the unreasoning indignity cast upon the honorable\nvocation of a servant.\n\nThere is an inexplicable tendency, in this country only, for working\npeople in general to look upon domestic service as an unworthy, if not\naltogether degrading vocation. The cause may perhaps be found in the fact\nthat this same scorning public having for the most part little opportunity\nto know high-class servants, who are to be found only in high-class\nfamilies, take it for granted that ignorant \"servant girls\" and \"hired\nmen\" are representative of their kind. Therefore they put upper class\nservants in the same category--regardless of whether they are uncouth and\nilliterate, or persons of refined appearance and manner who often have\nconsiderable cultivation, acquired not so much at school as through the\nconstant contact with ultra refinement of surroundings, and not\ninfrequently through the opportunity for world-wide travel.\n\nAnd yet so insistently has this obloquy of the word \"servant\" spread that\nevery one sensitive to the feelings of others avoids using it exactly as\none avoids using the word \"cripple\" when speaking to one who is slightly\nlame. Yet are not the best of us \"servants\" in the Church? And the highest\nof us \"servants\" of the people and the State?\n\nTo be a slattern in a vulgar household is scarcely an elevated employment,\nbut neither is working in a sweat-shop, or belonging to a calling that is\nreally degraded; which is otherwise about all that equal lack of ability\nwould procure. On the other hand, consider the vocation of a lady's maid\nor \"_courier_\" valet and compare the advantages these enjoy (to say\nnothing of their never having to worry about overhead expenses), with the\nopportunities of those who have never been out of the \"factory\" or the\n\"store\" or further away than the adjoining town in their lives. As for a\nnurse, is there any vocation more honorable? No character in E.F. Benson's\n\"Our Family Affairs\" is more beautiful or more tenderly drawn than that of\n\"Beth,\" who was not only nurse to the children of the Archbishop of\nCanterbury but one of the most dearly beloved of the family's members--her\nplace was absolutely next to their mother's in the very heart of the\nhousehold always.\n\nTwo years ago, Anna, who had for a lifetime been Mrs. Gilding's personal\nmaid, died. Every engagement of that seemingly frivolous family was\ncancelled, even the invitations for their ball. Not one of the family but\nmourned for what she truly was, their humble but nearest friend. Would it\nhave been so much better, so much more dignified, for these two women, who\nlived long useful years in closest association with every cultivating\ninfluence of life, to have lived on in their native villages and worked in\na factory, or to have had a little store of their own? Does this false\nidea of dignity--since it _is_ false--go so far as that?\n\n\n=HOW MANY SERVANTS FOR CORRECT SERVICE?=\n\nIt stands to reason that one may expect more perfect service from a\n\"specialist\" than from one whose functions are multiple. But small houses\nthat have a double equipment--meaning an alternate who can go in the\nkitchen, and two for the dining-room--can be every bit as well run, so far\nas essentials go, as the palaces of the Gildings and the Worldlys, though\nof course not with the same impressiveness. But good service is badly\nhandicapped if, when the waitress goes out, there is no one to open the\ndoor, or when the cook goes out, there is no one to prepare a meal.\n\nFor what one might call \"complete\" service, (meaning service that is\nadequate for constant entertaining and can stand comparison with the most\nluxurious establishments,) three are the minimum--a cook, a butler (or\nwaitress) and a housemaid. The reason why luncheons and dinners can not be\n\"perfectly\" given with a waitress alone is because two persons are\nnecessary for the exactions of modern standards of service. Yet one alone\ncan, on occasion, manage very well, if attention is paid to ordering an\nespecial menu for single-handed service--described on page 233. Aside from\nthe convenience of a second person in the dining-room, a house can not be\nrun very comfortably and smoothly without alternating shifts in staying in\nand going out. The waitress being on \"duty\" to answer bell and telephone\nand serve tea one afternoon, and the housemaid taking her place the next.\nThey also alternate in going out every other evening after dinner.\n\nIt should be realized that above the number necessary for essentials, each\nadditional chambermaid, parlor-maid, footman, scullery maid or useful man,\nis made necessary by the size of the house and by the amount of\nentertaining usual, rather than (as is often supposed) for the mere reason\nof show. The seemingly superfluous number of footmen at Golden Hall and\nGreat Estates are, aside from standing on parade at formal parties, needed\nactually to do the immense amount of work that houses of such size entail;\nwhereas a small apartment can be fairly well looked after by one alone.\n\nAll house employees and details of their several duties, manners, and\nappearances, are enumerated below. Beginning with the greatest and most\ncomplicated establishments possible, the employee of highest rank is:\n\n\n=THE SECRETARY WHO IS ALSO COMPANION=\n\nThe position of companion, which is always one of social equality with her\nemployer, exists only when the lady of the house is an invalid, or very\nelderly, or a widow, or a young girl. (In the latter case the \"companion\"\nis a \"chaperon.\")\n\nHer secretarial duties consist in writing impersonal letters and notes and\nprobably paying bills; she may have occasional invitations to send out,\nand to answer, though a lady needing a companion is not apt to be greatly\ninterested in social activities. The companion never performs the services\nof a maid--but she occasionally does the housekeeping. Otherwise her\nduties can not very well be set down, because they vary with individual\nrequirements. One lady likes continually to travel and merely wants a\ncompanion, (usually a poor relative or friend) to go with her. Another who\nis a semi-invalid never leaves her room, and the duties of her companion\nare almost those of a trained nurse. The average requirement is in being\npersonally agreeable, tactful, intelligent, and--companionable!\n\nA companion dresses as any other lady does; according to the occasion, her\npersonal taste, her age, and her means.\n\n\n=VARIED SOCIAL STANDING OF THE PRIVATE SECRETARY=\n\nThe private secretary to a diplomat, since, he must first pass the\ndiplomatic examination in order to qualify, is invariably a young man of\neducation, if not of birth, and his social position is always that of a\nmember of his \"chief's\" family.\n\nThe position of an ordinary private secretary is sometimes that of an\nupper servant, or, on the other hand, his own social position may be much\nhigher than that of his employer. A secretary who either has position of\nhis own or is given position by his employer, is in every way treated as a\nmember of the family; he is present at all general entertainments; and\nquite as often as not at lunches and dinners. The duties of a private\nsecretary are naturally to attend to all correspondence, take shorthand\nnotes of speeches or conversations, file papers and documents and in every\nway serve as extra eyes and hands and supplementary brain for his\nemployer.\n\n\n=THE SOCIAL SECRETARY=\n\nThe position of social secretary is an entirely clerical one, and never\nconfers any \"social privileges\" unless the secretary is also \"companion.\"\n\nHer duties are to write all invitations, acceptances, and regrets; keep a\nrecord of every invitation received and every one sent out, and to enter\nin an engagement book every engagement made for her employer, whether to\nlunch, dinner, to be fitted, or go to the dentist. She also writes all\nimpersonal notes, takes longer letters in shorthand, and writes others\nherself after being told their purport. She also audits all bills and\ndraws the checks for them, the checks are filled in and then presented to\nher employer to be signed, after which they are put in their envelopes,\nsealed and sent. When the receipted bills are returned, the secretary\nfiles them according to her own method, where they can at any time be\nfound by her if needed for reference. In many cases it is she (though it\nis most often the butler) who telephones invitations and other messages.\n\nOccasionally a social secretary is also a social manager; devises\nentertainments and arranges all details such as the decorations of the\nhouse for a dance, or a programme of entertainment following a very large\ndinner. The social secretary very rarely lives in the house of her\nemployer; more often than not she goes also to one or two other\nhouses--since there is seldom work enough in one to require her whole\ntime.\n\nMiss Brisk, who is Mrs. Gilding's secretary, has little time for any one\nelse. She goes every day for from two to sometimes eight or nine hours in\ntown, and at Golden Hall lives in the house. Usually a secretary can\nfinish all there is to do in an average establishment in about an hour, or\nat most two, a day, with the addition of five or six hours on two or three\nother days each month for the paying of bills.\n\nSupposing she takes three positions; she goes to Mrs. A. from 8.30 to 10\nevery day, and for three extra hours on the 10th and 11th of every month.\nTo Mrs. B. from 10.30 to 1 (her needs being greater) and for six extra\nhours on the 12th, 13th and 14th of every month. And to Mrs. C. every day\nat 3 o'clock for an indefinite time of several hours or only a few\nminutes.\n\nHer dress is that of any business woman. Conspicuous clothes are out of\nkeeping as they would be out of keeping in an office; which, however, is\nno reason why she should not be well dressed. Well-cut tailor-made suits\nare the most appropriate with a good-looking but simple hat; as good shoes\nas she can possibly afford, and good gloves and immaculately clean shirt\nwaists, represent about the most dignified and practical clothes. But why\ndescribe clothes! Every woman with good sense enough to qualify as a\nsecretary has undoubtedly sense enough to dress with dignity.\n\n\n=THE HOUSEKEEPER=\n\nIn a very big house the housekeeper usually lives in the house. Smaller\nestablishments often have a \"visiting housekeeper\" who comes for as long\nas she is needed each morning. The resident housekeeper has her own\nbedroom and bath and sitting-room always. Her meals are brought to her by\nan especial kitchen-maid, called in big houses the \"hall girl,\" or\noccasionally the butler details an under footman to that duty.\n\nIn an occasional house all the servants, the gardener as well as the cook\nand butler and nurses, come under the housekeeper's authority; in other\nwords, she superintends the entire house exactly as a very conscientious\nand skilled mistress would do herself, if she gave her whole time and\nattention to it. She engages the servants, and if necessary, dismisses\nthem; she sees the cook, orders meals, goes to the market, or at least\nsupervises the cook's market orders, and likewise engages and apportions\nthe work of the men servants.\n\nOrdinarily, however, she is in charge of no one but the housemaids,\nparlor-maids, useful man and one of the scullery maids. The cook, butler,\nnurses and lady's maid do not come under her supervision. But should\ndifficulties arise between herself and them it would be within her\nprovince to ask for their dismissal which would probably be granted; since\nshe would not ask without grave cause that involved much more than her\npersonal dislike. A good housekeeper is always a woman of experience and\ntact, and often a lady; friction is, therefore, extremely rare.\n\n\n=THE ORGANIZATION OF A GREAT HOUSE=\n\nThe management of a house of greatest size, is divided usually into\nseveral distinct departments, each under its separate head. The\nhousekeeper has charge of the appearance of the house and of its contents;\nthe manners and looks of the housemaids and parlor-maids, as well as their\nwork in cleaning walls, floors, furniture, pictures, ornaments, books, and\ntaking care of linen.\n\nThe butler has charge of the pantry and dining-room. He engages all\nfootmen, apportions their work and is responsible for their appearance,\nmanners and efficiency.\n\nThe cook is in charge of the kitchen, under-cook and kitchen-maids.\n\nThe nurse and the personal maid and cook are under the direction of the\nlady of the house. The butler and the valet as well as the chauffeur and\ngardener are engaged by the gentleman of the house.\n\n\n=THE BUTLER=\n\nThe butler is not only the most important servant in every big\nestablishment, but it is by no means unheard of for him to be in supreme\ncommand, not only as steward, but as housekeeper as well.\n\nAt the Worldly's for instance, Hastings who is actually the butler, orders\nall the supplies, keeps the household accounts and engages not only the\nmen servants but the housemaids, parlor-maids and even the chef.\n\nBut normally in a great house, the butler has charge of his own department\nonly, and his own department is the dining-room and pantry, or possibly\nthe whole parlor floor. In all smaller establishments the butler is always\nthe valet--and in many great ones he is valet to his employer, even though\nhe details a footman to look after other gentlemen of the family or\nvisitors.\n\nIn a small house the butler works a great deal with his hands and not so\nmuch with his head. In a great establishment, the butler works very much\nwith his head, and with his hands not at all.\n\nAt Golden Hall where guests come in dozens at a time (both in the house\nand the guest annex), his stewardship--even though there is a\nhousekeeper--is not a job which a small man can fill. He has perhaps\nthirty men under him at big dinners, ten who belong under him in the house\nalways; he has the keys to the wine cellar and the combination of the\nsilver safe. (The former being in this day by far the greater\nresponsibility!) He also chooses the china and glass and linen as well as\nthe silver to be used each day, oversees the setting of the table, and the\nserving of all food. When there is a house party every breakfast tray that\nleaves the pantry is first approved by him.\n\nAt all meals he stands behind the chair of the lady of the house--in other\nwords, at the head of the table. In occasional houses, the butler stands\nat the opposite end as he is supposed to be better able to see any\ndirections given him. At Golden Hall the butler stands behind Mr. Gilding\nbut at Great Estates Hastings invariably stands behind Mrs. Worldly's\nchair so that at the slightest turn of her head, he need only take a step\nto be within reach of her voice. (The husband by the way is \"head of the\nhouse,\" but the wife is \"head of the table.\")\n\nAt tea time, he oversees the footmen who place the tea-table, put on the\ntea cloth and carry in the tea tray, after which Hastings himself places\nthe individual tables. When there is \"no dinner at home\" he waits in the\nhall and assists Mr. Worldly into his coat, and hands him his hat and\nstick, which have previously been handed to the butler by one of the\nfootmen.\n\n\n_The Butler in a Smaller House_\n\nIn a smaller house, the butler also takes charge of the wines and silver,\ndoes very much the same as the butler in the bigger house, except that he\nhas less overseeing of others and more work to do himself. Where he is\nalone, he does all the work--naturally. Where he has either one footman or\na parlor-maid, he passes the main courses at the table and his assistant\npasses the secondary dishes.\n\nHe is also valet not only for the gentleman of the house but for any\ngentleman guests as well.\n\n\n_What the Butler Wears_\n\nThe butler never wears the livery of a footman and on no account knee\nbreeches or powder. In the early morning he wears an ordinary sack\nsuit--black or very dark blue--with a dark, inconspicuous tie. For\nluncheon or earlier, if he is on duty at the door, he wears black\ntrousers, with gray stripes, a double-breasted, high-cut, black waistcoat,\nand black swallowtail coat without satin on the revers, a white\nstiff-bosomed shirt with standing collar, and a black four-in-hand tie.\n\nIn fashionable houses, the butler does not put on his dress suit until\nsix o'clock. The butler's evening dress differs from that of a gentleman\nin a few details only: he has no braid on his trousers, and the satin on\nhis lapels (if any) is narrower, but the most distinctive difference is\nthat a butler wears a black waistcoat and a white lawn tie, and a\ngentleman always wears a white waistcoat with a white tie, or a white\nwaistcoat and a black tie with a dinner coat, but never the reverse.\n\nUnless he is an old-time colored servant in the South a butler who wears a\n\"dress suit\" in the daytime is either a hired waiter who has come in to\nserve a meal, or he has never been employed by persons of position; and it\nis unnecessary to add that none but vulgarians would employ a butler (or\nany other house servant) who wears a mustache! To have him open the door\ncollarless and in shirt-sleeves is scarcely worse!\n\nA butler never wears gloves, nor a flower in his buttonhole. He sometimes\nwears a very thin watch chain in the daytime but none at night. He never\nwears a scarf-pin, or any jewelry that is for ornament alone. His\ncuff-links should be as plain as possible, and his shirt studs white\nenamel ones that look like linen.\n\n\n=THE HOUSE FOOTMEN=\n\nAll house servants who assist in waiting on the table come under the\ndirection of the butler, and are known as footmen. One who never comes\ninto the dining-room is known as a useful man. The duties of the footmen\n(and useful man) include cleaning the dining-room, pantry, lower hall,\nentrance vestibule, sidewalk, attending to the furnace, carrying coal to\nthe kitchen, wood to all the open fireplaces in the house, cleaning the\nwindows, cleaning brasses, cleaning all boots, carrying everything that is\nheavy, moving furniture for the parlor-maids to clean behind it, valeting\nall gentlemen, setting and waiting on table, attending the front door,\ntelephoning and writing down messages, and--incessantly and ceaselessly,\ncleaning and polishing silver.\n\nIn a small house, the butler polishes silver, but in a very big house one\nof the footmen is silver specialist, and does nothing else. Nothing! If\nthere is to be a party of any sort he puts on his livery and joins the\nothers who line the hall and bring dishes to the table. But he does not\nassist in setting the table or washing dishes or in cleaning anything\nwhatsoever--except silver.\n\nThe butler also usually answers the telephone--if not, it is answered by\nthe first footman. The first footman is deputy butler.\n\nThe footmen also take turns in answering the door. In houses of great\nceremony like those of the Worldlys' and the Gildings', there are always\ntwo footmen at the door if anyone is to be admitted. One to open the door\nand the other to conduct a guest into the drawing-room. But if formal\ncompany is expected, the butler himself is in the front hall with one or\ntwo footmen at the door.\n\n\n_The Footmen's Livery_\n\nPeople who have big houses usually choose a color for their livery and\nnever change it. Maroon and buff, for instance, are the colors of the\nGildings; all their motor cars are maroon with buff lines and\ncream-colored or maroon linings. The chauffeurs and outside footmen wear\nmaroon liveries. The house footmen, for everyday, wear ordinary footmen's\nliveries, maroon trousers and long-tailed coats with brass buttons and\nmaroon-and-buff striped waistcoats.\n\nFor gala occasions, Mrs. Gilding adds as many caterer's men as necessary,\nbut they all are dressed in her full-dress livery, consisting of a \"court\"\ncoat which comes together at the neck in front, and then cuts away to long\ntails at the back. The coat is of maroon broadcloth with frogs and\nepaulets of black braiding. There is a small standing collar of buff\ncloth, and a falling cravat of pleated cream-colored lace worn in front.\nThe waistcoat is of buff satin, the breeches of black satin, cream-colored\nstockings, pumps, and the hair is powdered. It is first pomaded and then\nthickly powdered. Wigs are never worn.\n\nMrs. Worldly however compromises between the \"court\" footman and the\nordinary one, and puts her footmen in green cloth coats cut like the\neveryday liveries, with silver buttons on which the crest is raised in\nrelief, but adds black velvet collars, and black satin waistcoats in place\nof the everyday striped ones. Black satin knee breeches, black silk\nstockings, and pumps with silver buckles, and their ordinary hair, cut\nshort.\n\nThe powdered footman's \"court\" livery is, as a matter of fact, very rarely\nseen. Three or four houses in New York, and one or two otherwhere, would\nvery likely include them all. Knee breeches are more usual, but even those\nare seen in none but very lavish houses.\n\nTo choose servants who are naturally well-groomed is more important than\nputting them in smart liveries. Men must be close shaven and have their\nhair well cut. Their linen must be immaculate, their shoes polished, their\nclothes brushed and in press, and their finger nails clean and well cared\nfor. If a man's fingers are indelibly stained he would better wear white\ncotton gloves.\n\n\n=THE COOK=\n\nThe kitchen is always in charge of the cook. In a small house, or in an\napartment, she is alone and has all the cooking, cleaning of kitchen and\nlarder, to do, the basement or kitchen bell to answer, and the servants'\ntable to set and their dishes to wash as well as her kitchen utensils. In\na bigger house, the kitchen-maid lights the kitchen fire, and does all\ncleaning of kitchen and pots and pans, answers the basement bell, sets the\nservants' table and washes the servants' table dishes. In a still bigger\nhouse, the second cook cooks for the servants always, and for the children\nsometimes, and assists the cook by preparing certain plainer portions of\nthe meals, the cook preparing all dinner dishes, sauces and the more\nelaborate items on the menu. Sometimes there are two or more kitchen-maids\nwho merely divide the greater amount of work between them.\n\nIn most houses of any size, the cook does all the marketing. She sees the\nlady of the house every morning, and submits menus for the day. In smaller\nhouses, the lady does the ordering of both supplies and menus.\n\n\n_How a Cook Submits the Menu_\n\nIn a house of largest size--at the Gildings for instance, the chef writes\nin his \"book\" every evening, the menus for the next day, whether there is\nto be company or not. (None, of course, if the family are to be out for\nall meals.) This \"book\" is sent up to Mrs. Gilding with her breakfast\ntray. It is a loose-leaf blank book of rather large size. The day's menu\nsheet is on top, but the others are left in their proper sequence\nunderneath, so that by looking at her engagement book to see who dined\nwith her on such a date, and then looking at the menu for that same date,\nshe knows--if she cares to--exactly what the dinner was.\n\nIf she does not like the chef's choice, she draws a pencil through and\nwrites in something else. If she has any orders or criticisms to make, she\nwrites them on an envelope pad, folds the page, and seals it and puts the\n\"note\" in the book. If the menu is to be changed, the chef re-writes it,\nif not the page is left as it is, and the book put in a certain place in\nthe kitchen.\n\nThe butler always goes into the kitchen shortly after the book has come\ndown, and copies the day's menus on a pad of his own. From this he knows\nwhat table utensils will be needed.\n\nThis system is not necessary in medium sized or small houses, but where\nthere is a great deal of entertaining it is much simpler for the butler to\nbe able to go and \"see for himself\" than to ask the cook and--forget. And\nask again, and the cook forget, and then--disturbance!--because the butler\ndid not send down the proper silver dishes or have the proper plates\nready, or had others heated unnecessarily.\n\n\n=THE KITCHEN-MAID=\n\nThe kitchen-maids are under the direction of the cook, except one known\ncolloquially as the \"hall girl\" who is supervised by the housekeeper. She\nis evidently a survival of the \"between maid\" of the English house. Her\nsobriquet comes from the fact that she has charge of the servants' hall,\nor dining-room, and is in fact the waitress for them. She also takes care\nof the housekeeper's rooms, and carries all her meals up to her. If there\nis no housekeeper, the hall girl is under the direction of the cook.\n\n\n=THE PARLOR-MAID=\n\nThe parlor-maid keeps the drawing-room and library in order. The useful\nman brings up the wood for the fireplaces, but the parlor-maid lays the\nfire. In some houses the parlor-maid takes up the breakfast trays; in\nother houses, the butler does this himself and then hands them to the\nlady's maid, who takes them into the bedrooms. The windows and the brasses\nare cleaned by the useful man and heavy furniture moved by him so she can\nclean behind them.\n\nThe parlor-maid assists the butler in waiting at table, and washing\ndishes, and takes turns with him in answering the door and the telephone.\n\nIn huge houses like the Worldlys' and the Gildings', the footmen assist\nthe butler in the dining-room and at the door--and there is always a\n\"pantry maid\" who washes dishes and cleans the pantry.\n\n\n=THE HOUSEMAID=\n\nThe housemaid does all the chamber work, cleans all silver on\ndressing-tables, polishes fixtures in the bathroom--in other words takes\ncare of the bedroom floors.\n\nIn a bigger house, the head housemaid has charge of the linen and does the\nbedrooms of the lady and gentleman of the house and a few of the spare\nrooms. The second housemaid does the nurseries, extra spare rooms, and the\nservants' floor. The bigger the establishment, the more housemaids, and\nthe work is further divided. The housemaid is by many people called the\nchambermaid.\n\n\n=UNIFORMS=\n\nIn all houses of importance and fashion, the parlor-maid and the\nhousemaids, and the waitress (where there is no butler), are all dressed\nalike. Their \"work\" dresses are of plain cambric and in whatever the\n\"house color\" may be, with large white aprons with high bibs, and Eton\ncollars, but no cuffs (as they must be able to unbutton their sleeves and\nturn them up.) Those who serve in the dining-room must always dress before\nlunch, and the afternoon dresses vary according to the taste--and\npurse--of the lady of the house. Where no uniforms are supplied, each maid\nis supposed to furnish herself with a plain black dress for afternoon, on\nwhich she wears collars and cuffs of embroidered muslin usually (always\nsupplied her), and a small afternoon apron, with or without shoulder\nstraps, and with or without a cap.\n\nIn very \"beautifully done\" houses (all the dresses of the maids are\nfurnished them), the color of the uniforms is chosen to harmonize with the\ndining-room. At the Gildings', Jr., for instance, where there are no men\nservants because Mr. Gilding does not like them, but where the house is as\nperfect as a picture on the stage, the waitress and parlor-maid wear in\nthe blue and yellow dining-room, dresses of Nattier blue taffeta with\naprons and collars and cuffs of plain hemstitched cream-colored organdie,\nthat is as transparent as possible; blue stockings and patent leather\nslippers with silver buckles, their hair always beautifully smooth.\nSometimes they wear caps and sometimes not, depending upon the waitress'\nappearance. Twenty years ago, every maid in a lady's house wore a cap\nexcept the personal maid, who wore (and still does) a velvet bow, or\nnothing. But when every little slattern in every sloppy household had a\nsmall mat of whitish Swiss pinned somewhere on an untidy head, and was\ndecked out in as many yards of embroidery ruffling on her apron and\nshoulders as her person could carry, fashionable ladies began taking caps\nand trimmings off, and exacting instead that clothes be good in cut and\nhair be neatly arranged.\n\nA few ladies of great taste dress their maids according to individual\nbecomingness; some faces look well under a cap, others look the contrary.\nA maid whose hair is rather fluffy--especially if it is dark--looks pretty\nin a cap, particularly of the coronet variety. No one looks well in a\ndoily laid flat, but fluffy fair hair with a small mat tilted up against\na knot of hair dressed high can look very smart. A young woman whose hair\nis straight and rebellious to order, can be made to look tidy and even\nattractive in a headdress that encircles the whole head. A good one for\nthis purpose has a very narrow ruche from 9 to 18 inches long on either\nside of a long black velvet ribbon. The ruche goes part way, or all the\nway, around the head, and the velvet ribbon ties, with streamers hanging\ndown the back. On the other hand, many extremely pretty young women with\nhair worn flat do not look well in caps of any description--except \"Dutch\"\nones which are, in most houses, too suggestive of fancy dress. If no caps\nare worn the hair must be faultlessly smooth and neat; and of course where\ntwo or more maids are seen together, they must be alike. It would not do\nto have one wear a cap and the other not.\n\n\n=THE LADY'S MAID=\n\nA first class lady's maid is required to be a hairdresser, a good packer\nand an expert needlewoman. Her first duty is to keep her lady's clothes in\norder and to help her dress, and undress. She draws the bath, lays out\nunderclothes, always brushes her lady's hair and usually dresses it, and\ngets out the dress to be worn, as well as the stockings, shoes, hat, veil,\ngloves, wrist bag, parasol, or whatever accessories go with the dress in\nquestion.\n\nAs soon as the lady is dressed, everything that has been worn is taken to\nthe sewing room and each article is gone over, carefully brushed if of\nwoolen material, cleaned if silk. Everything that is mussed is pressed,\neverything that can be suspected of not being immaculate is washed or\ncleaned with cleaning fluid, and when in perfect order is replaced where\nit belongs in the closet. Underclothes as mended are put in the clothes\nhamper. Stockings are looked over for rips or small holes, and the maid\nusually washes very fine stockings herself, also lace collars or small\npieces of lace trimming.\n\nSome maids have to wait up at night, no matter how late, until their\nladies return; but as many, if not more, are never asked to wait longer\nthan a certain hour.\n\nBut the maid for a d\u00e9butante in the height of the season, between the\ninevitable \"go fetching\" at this place and that, and mending of party\ndresses danced to ribbons and soiled by partner's hands on the back, and\nslippers \"walked on\" until there is quite as much black part as satin or\nmetal, has no sinecure.\n\n\n_Why Two Maids?_\n\nIn very important houses where mother and daughters go out a great deal\nthere are usually two maids, one for the mother and one for the daughters.\nBut even in moderate households it is seldom practical for a d\u00e9butante and\nher mother to share a maid--at least during the height of the season. That\na maid who has to go out night after night for weeks and even months on\nend, and sit in the dressing-rooms at balls until four and five and even\nsix in the morning, is then allowed to go to bed and to sleep until\nluncheon is merely humane. And it can easily be seen that it is more\nlikely that she will need the help of a seamstress to refurbish\ndance-frocks, than that she will have any time to devote to her young\nlady's mother--who in \"mid-season,\" therefore, is forced to have a maid of\nher own, ridiculous as it sounds, that two maids for two ladies should be\nnecessary! Sometimes this is overcome by engaging an especial maid \"by the\nevening\" to go to parties and wait, and bring the d\u00e9butante home again.\nAnd the maid at home can then be \"maid for two.\"\n\n\n_Dress of a Lady's Maid_\n\nA lady's maid wears a black skirt, a laundered white waist, and a small\nwhite apron, the band of which buttons in the back.\n\nIn traveling, a lady's maid always wears a small black silk apron and some\nmaids wear black taffeta ones always. In the afternoon, she puts on a\nblack waist with white collar and cuffs. Mrs. Gilding, Jr., puts her maid\nin black taffeta with embroidered collar and cuffs. For \"company\noccasions,\" when she waits in the dressing-room, she wears light gray\ntaffeta with a very small embroidered mull apron with a narrow black\nvelvet waist-ribbon, and collar and cuffs of mull to match--which is\nextremely pretty, but also extremely extravagant.\n\n\n=THE VALET=\n\nThe valet (pronounced val-et not vallay) is what Beau Brummel called a\ngentleman's gentleman. His duties are exactly the same as those of the\nlady's maid--except that he does not sew! He keeps his employer's clothes\nin perfect order, brushes, cleans and presses everything as soon as it has\nbeen worn--even if only for a few moments. He lays out the clothes to be\nput on, puts away everything that is a personal belonging. Some gentlemen\nlike their valet to help them dress; run the bath, shave them and hold\neach article in readiness as it is to be put on. But most gentlemen merely\nlike their clothes \"laid out\" for them, which means that trousers have\nbelts or braces attached, shirts have cuff links and studs; and waistcoat\nbuttons are put in.\n\nThe valet also unpacks the bags of any gentleman guests when they come,\nvalets them while there, and packs them when they go. He always packs for\nhis own gentleman, buys tickets, looks after the luggage, and makes\nhimself generally useful as a personal attendant, whether at home or when\ntraveling.\n\nAt big dinners, he is required (much against his will) to serve as a\nfootman--in a footman's, not a butler's, livery.\n\nThe valet wears no livery except on such occasions. His \"uniform\" is an\nordinary business suit, dark and inconspicuous in color, with a black tie.\n\nIn a bachelor's quarters a valet is often general factotum; not only\nvaleting but performing the services of cook, butler, and even housemaid.\n\n\n=THE NURSE=\n\nEverybody knows the nurse is either the comfort or the torment of the\nhouse. Everyone also knows innumerable young mothers who put up with\ninexcusable crankiness from a crotchety middle-aged woman because she was\n\"so wonderful\" to the baby. And here let it be emphasized that such an one\nusually turns out to have been not wonderful to the baby at all. That she\ndoes not actually abuse a helpless infant is merely granting that she is\nnot a \"monster.\"\n\nDevotion must always be unselfish; the nurse who is _really_ \"wonderful\"\nto the baby is pretty sure to be a person who is kind generally. In\nninety-nine cases out of a hundred the sooner a domineering nurse--old or\nyoung--is got rid of, the better. It has been the experience of many a\nmother whose life had been made perfectly miserable through her belief\nthat if she dismissed the tyrant the baby would suffer, that in the\nend--there _is_ always an end!--the baby was quite as relieved as the rest\nof the family when the \"right sort\" of a kindly and humane person took the\ntyrant's place.\n\nIt is unnecessary to add that one can not be too particular in asking for\na nurse's reference and in never failing to get a personal one from the\nlady she is leaving. Not only is it necessary to have a sweet-tempered,\ncompetent and clean person, but her moral character is of utmost\nimportance, since she is to be the constant and inseparable companion of\nthe children whose whole lives are influenced by her example, especially\nwhere busy parents give only a small portion of time to their children.\n\n\n=COURTESY TO ONE'S HOUSEHOLD=\n\nIn a dignified house, a servant is never spoken to as Jim, Maisie, or\nKatie, but always as James or Margaret or Katherine, and a butler is\ncalled by his last name, nearly always. The Worldly's butler, for\ninstance, is called Hastings, not John. In England, a lady's maid is also\ncalled by her last name, and the cook, if married, is addressed as Mrs.\nand the nurse is always called \"Nurse.\" A chef is usually called \"Chef\" or\nelse by his last name.\n\nAlways abroad, and every really well-bred lady or gentleman here, says\n\"please\" in asking that something be brought her or him. \"Please get me\nthe book I left on the table in my room!\" Or \"Please give me some bread!\"\nOr \"Some bread, please.\" Or one can say equally politely and omit the\nplease, \"I'd like some toast,\" but it is usual and instinctive to every\nlady or gentleman to add \"please.\"\n\nIn refusing a dish at the table, one must say \"No, thank you,\" or \"No,\nthanks,\" or else one shakes one's head. A head can be shaken politely or\nrudely. To be courteously polite, and yet keep one's walls up is a thing\nevery thoroughbred person knows how to do--and a thing that everyone who\nis trying to become such must learn to do.\n\nA rule can't be given because there isn't any. As said in another chapter,\na well-bred person always lives within the walls of his personal reserve,\na vulgarian has no walls--or at least none that do not collapse at the\nslightest touch. But those who think they appear superior by being rude to\nothers whom fortune has placed below them, might as well, did they but\nknow it, shout their own unexalted origin to the world at large, since by\nno other method could it be more widely published.\n\n\n=THE HOUSE WITH LIMITED SERVICE=\n\nThe fact that you live in a house with two servants, or in an apartment\nwith only one, need not imply that your house lacks charm or even\ndistinction, or that it is not completely the home of a lady or gentleman.\nBut, as explained in the chapter on Dinners, if you have limited service\nyou must devise systematic economy of time and labor or you will have\ndisastrous consequences.\n\nEvery person, after all, has only one pair of hands, and a day has only so\nmany hours, and one thing is inevitable, which young housekeepers are apt\nto forget, a few can not do the work of many, and do it in the same way.\nIt is all very well if the housemaid can not get into young Mrs. Gilding's\nroom until lunch time, nor does it matter if its confusion looks like the\naftermath of a cyclone. The housemaid has nothing to do the rest of the\nday but put that one room and bath in order. But in young Mrs. Gaily's\nsmall house where the housemaid is also the waitress, who is supposed to\nbe \"dressed\" for lunch, it does not have to be pointed out that she can\nnot sweep, dust, tidy up rooms, wash out bathtubs, polish fixtures, and at\nthe same time be dressed in afternoon clothes. If Mrs. Gaily is out for\nlunch, it is true the chambermaid-waitress need not be dressed to wait on\ntable, but her thoughtless young mistress would not be amiable if a\nvisitor were to ring the door-bell in the early afternoon and have it\nopened by a maid in a rumpled \"working\" dress.\n\nSupposing the time to put the bedroom in order is from ten to eleven each\nmorning: it is absolutely necessary that Mrs. Gaily take her bath before\nten so that even if she is not otherwise \"dressed\" she can be out of her\nbedroom and bath at ten o'clock promptly. She can go elsewhere while her\nroom is done up and then come back and finish dressing later. In this case\nshe must herself \"tidy\" any disorder that she makes in dressing; put away\nher n\u00e9glig\u00e9 and slippers and put back anything out of place. On the days\nwhen Mr. Gaily does not go to the office he too must get up and out so\nthat the house can be put in order.\n\n\n=THE ONE MAID ALONE=\n\nBut where one maid alone cooks, cleans, waits on table, and furthermore\nserves as lady's maid and valet, she must necessarily be limited in the\nperformance of each of these duties in direct proportion to their number.\nEven though she be eagerly willing, quality must give way before quantity\nproduced with the same equipment, or if quality is necessary then quantity\nmust give way. In the house of a fashionable gay couple like the Lovejoys'\nfor instance, the time spent in \"maiding\" or \"valeting\" has to be taken\nfrom cleaning or cooking. Besides cleaning and cooking, the one maid in\ntheir small apartment can press out Mrs. Lovejoy's dresses and do a little\nmending, but she can not sit down and spend one or two hours going over a\ndress in the way a specialist maid can. Either Mrs. Lovejoy herself must\ndo the sewing or the housework, or one or the other must be left undone.\n\n\n=THE MANAGEMENT OF SERVANTS=\n\nIt is certainly a greater pleasure and incentive to work for those who are\nappreciative than for those who continually find fault. Everyone who did\nwar work can not fail to remember how easy it was to work for, or with,\nsome people, and how impossible to get anything done for others. And just\nas the \"heads\" of work-rooms or \"wards\" or \"canteens\" were either\nstimulating or dispiriting, so must they and their types also be to those\nwho serve in their households.\n\nThis, perhaps, explains why some people are always having a \"servant\nproblem\"; finding servants difficult to get, more difficult to keep, and\nmost difficult to get efficient work from. It is a question whether the\n\"servant problem\" is not more often a mistress problem. It must be!\nBecause, if you notice, those who have woes and complaints are invariably\nthe same, just as others who never have any trouble are also the same. It\ndoes not depend on the size of the house; the Lovejoys never have any\ntrouble, and yet their one maid of all work has a far from \"easy\" place,\nand a vacancy at Brookmeadows is always sought after, even though the\nOldnames spend ten months of the year in the country. Neither is there any\nfriction at the Golden Hall or Great Estates, even though the latter house\nis run by the butler--an almost inevitable cause of trouble. These houses\nrepresent a difference in range of from one alone, to nearly forty on the\nhousehold payroll.\n\n\n=THOSE WHO HAVE PERSISTENT \"TROUBLE\"=\n\nIt might be well for those who have trouble to remember a few rules which\nare often overlooked: Justice must be the foundation upon which every\ntranquil house is constructed. Work must be as evenly divided as possible;\none servant should not be allowed liberties not accorded to all.\n\nIt is not just to be too lenient, any more than it is just to be\nunreasonably strict. To allow impertinence or sloppy work is inexcusable,\nbut it is equally inexcusable to show causeless irritability or to be\noverbearing or rude. And there is no greater example of injustice than to\nreprimand those about you because you happen to be in a bad humor, and at\nanother time overlook offenses that are greater because you are in an\namiable mood.\n\nThere is also no excuse for \"correcting\" either a servant or a child\nbefore people.\n\n[Illustration: \"THE PERFECT MISTRESS SHOWS ALL THOSE IN HER EMPLOY THE\nCONSIDERATION AND TRUST DUE THEM AS HONORABLE SELF-RESPECTING AND\nCONSCIENTIOUS HUMAN BEINGS.\" [Page 157.]]\n\nAnd when you do correct, do not forget to make allowances, if there be\nany reason why allowance should be made.\n\nIf you live in a palace like Golden Hall, or any completely equipped house\nof important size, you overlook _nothing!_ There is no more excuse for\ndelinquency than there is in the Army. If anything happens, such as\nillness of one servant, there is another to take his (or her) place. A\nhuge household is a machine and it is the business of the engineers--in\nother words, the secretary, housekeeper, chef or butler, to keep it going\nperfectly.\n\nBut in a little house, it may not be fair to say \"Selma, the silver is\ndirty!\" when there is a hot-air furnace and you have had company to every\nmeal, and you have perhaps sent her on errands between times, and she has\nliterally not had a moment. If you don't know whether she has had time or\nnot, you could give her the benefit of the doubt and say (trustfully, not\nhaughtily) \"You have not had time to clean the silver, have you?\" This--in\ncase she has really been unable to clean it--points out just as well the\nfact that it is not shining, but is not a criticism. Carelessness, on the\nother hand, when you know she has had plenty of time, should never be\noverlooked.\n\nAnother type that has \"difficulties\" is the distrustful--sometimes\nactually suspicious--person who locks everything tight and treats all\nthose with whom she comes in contact as though they were meddlesomely\ncurious at least, or at worst, dishonest. It is impossible to overstate\nthe misfortune of this temperament. The servant who is \"watched\" for fear\nshe \"won't work,\" listened to for fear she may be gossiping, suspected of\nwanting to take a liberty of some sort, or of doing something else she\nshouldn't do, is psychologically encouraged, almost driven, to do these\nvery things.\n\nThe perfect mistress expects perfect service, but it never occurs to her\nthat perfect service will not be voluntarily and gladly given. She, on her\npart, shows all of those in her employ the consideration and trust due\nthem as honorable, self-respecting and conscientious human beings. If she\nhas reason to think they are not all this, a lady does not keep them in\nher house.\n\n\n=ETIQUETTE OF SERVICE=\n\nThe well-trained high-class servant is faultlessly neat in appearance,\nreticent in manner, speaks in a low voice, walks and moves quickly but\nsilently, and is unfailingly courteous and respectful. She (or he) always\nknocks on a door, even of the library or sitting-room, but opens it\nwithout waiting to hear \"Come in,\" as knocking on a downstairs door is\nmerely politeness. At a bedroom door she would wait for permission to\nenter. In answering a bell, she asks \"Did you ring, sir?\" or if especially\nwell-mannered she asks \"Did Madam ring?\"\n\nA servant always answers \"Yes, Madam,\" or \"Very good, sir,\" never \"Yes,\"\n\"No,\" \"All right,\" or \"Sure.\"\n\nYoung people in the house are called \"Miss Alice\" or \"Mr. Ollie,\" possibly\n\"Mr. Oliver,\" but they are generally called by their familiar names with\nthe prefix of Miss or Mister. Younger children are called Miss Kittie and\nMaster Fred, but never by the nurse, who calls them by their first names\nuntil they are grown--sometimes always.\n\nAll cards and small packages are presented on a tray.\n\n\n=TIME \"OUT\" AND \"IN\"=\n\nNo doubt in the far-off districts there are occasional young women who\nwork long and hard and for little compensation, but at least in all\ncities, servants have their definite time out. Furthermore, they are\nallowed in humanely run houses to have \"times in\" when they can be at home\nto friends who come to see them. In every well-appointed house of size\nthere is a sitting-room which is furnished with comfortable chairs and\nsofa if possible, a good droplight to read by, often books, and always\nmagazines (sent out as soon as read by the family). In other words, they\nhave an inviting room to use as their own exactly as though they were\nliving at home. If no room is available, the kitchen has a cover put on\nthe table, a droplight, and a few restful chairs are provided.\n\n\n=THE MAIDS' MEN FRIENDS=\n\nAre maids allowed to receive men friends? Certainly they are! Whoever in\nremote ages thought it was better to forbid \"followers\" the house, and\nhave Mary and Selma slip out of doors to meet them in the dark, had very\ndistorted notions to say the least. And any lady who knows so little of\nhuman nature as to make the same rule for her maids to-day is acting in\nignorant blindness of her own duties to those who are not only in her\nemploy but also under her protection.\n\nA pretty young woman whose men friends come in occasionally and play cards\nwith the others, or dance to a small and not loud phonograph in the\nkitchen, is merely being treated humanly. Because she wears a uniform\nmakes her no less a young girl, with a young girl's love of amusement,\nwhich if not properly provided for her \"at home\" will be sought for in\nsinister places.\n\nThis responsibility is one that many ladies who are occupied with\ncharitable and good works elsewhere often overlook under their own roof.\nIt does not mean that the kitchen should be a scene of perpetual revelry\nand mirth that can by any chance disturb the quiet of the neighborhood or\neven the family. Unseemly noise is checked at once, much as it would be if\nyoung people in the drawing-room became disturbing. Continuous company is\nnot suitable either, and those who abuse privileges naturally must have\nthem curtailed, but the really high-class servant who does not appreciate\nkindness and requite it with considerate and proper behavior is rare.\n\n\n=SERVICE IN FORMAL ENTERTAINING=\n\n=ON THE SIDEWALK AND IN THE HALL=\n\nFor a wedding, or a ball, and sometimes for teas and big dinners, there is\nan awning from curb to front door. But usually, especially in good\nweather, a dinner or other moderate sized evening entertainment is\nprepared for by stretching a carpet (a red one invariably!) down the front\nsteps and across the pavement to the curb's edge. At all important\nfunctions there is a chauffeur (or a caterer's man) on the sidewalk to\nopen the door of motors, and a footman or waitress stationed inside the\ndoor of the house to open it on one's approach. This same servant, or more\noften another stationed in the hall beyond, directs arriving guests to the\ndressing-rooms.\n\n\n=DRESSING-ROOMS=\n\nHouses especially built for entertaining, have two small rooms on the\nground floor, each with its lavatory, and off of it, a rack for the\nhanging of coats and wraps. In most houses, however, guests have to go\nup-stairs where two bedrooms are set aside, one as a ladies', and the\nother as a gentlemen's coat room.\n\nAt an afternoon tea in houses where dressing-rooms have not been installed\nby the architect, the end of the hall, if it is wide, is sometimes\nsupplied with a coat rack (which may be rented from a caterer) for the\ngentlemen. Ladies are in this case supposed to go into the drawing-room as\nthey are, or go up-stairs to the bedroom put at their disposal and in\ncharge of a lady's maid or housemaid.\n\nIf the entertainment is very large, checks are always given to avoid\nconfusion in the dressing-rooms exactly as in public \"check rooms.\" In the\nladies' dressing-room--whether downstairs or up--there must be an array of\ntoilet necessities such as brushes and combs; well-placed mirrors,\nhairpins, powder with stacks of individual cotton balls, or a roll of\ncotton in a receptacle from which it may be pulled. In the lavatory there\nmust be fresh soap and plenty of small hand towels. The lady's personal\nmaid and one or two assistants if necessary, depending upon the size of\nthe party, but one and all of them as neatly dressed as possible, assist\nladies off and on with their wraps, and give them coat checks.\n\nA lady's maid should always look the arriving guests over--not boldly nor\ntoo apparently, but with a quick glance for anything that may be amiss. If\nthe drapery of a dress is caught up on its trimming, or a fastening\nundone, it is her duty to say: \"Excuse me, madam (or miss), but there is a\nhook undone\"--or \"the drapery of your gown is caught--shall I fix it?\"\nWhich she does as quietly and quickly as possible. If there is a rip of\nany sort, she says: \"I think there is a thread loose, I'll just tack it.\nIt will only be a moment.\"\n\nThe well-bred maid instinctively makes little of a guest's accident, and\nis as considerate as the hostess herself. Employees instinctively adopt\nthe attitude of their employer.\n\nIn the gentlemen's coat room of a perfectly appointed house the valet's\nattitude is much the same. If a gentleman's coat should have met with any\naccident, the valet says: \"Let me have it fixed for you, sir, it'll only\ntake a moment!\" And he divests the gentleman of his coat and takes it to a\nmaid and asks her please to take a stitch in it. Meanwhile he goes back to\nhis duties in the dressing-room until he is sure the coat is finished,\nwhen he gets it and politely helps the owner into it.\n\nIn a small country house where dressing-room space is limited, the quaint\ntables copied from old ones are very useful, screened off at the back of\nthe downstairs hall, or in a very small lavatory. They look, when shut,\nlike an ordinary table, but when the top is lifted a mirror, the height of\nthe table's width, swings forward and a series of small compartments and\ntrays both deep and shallow are laid out on either side. The trays of\ncourse are kept filled with hairpins, pins and powder, and the\ncompartments have sunburn lotion and liquid powder, brush, comb and\nwhiskbroom, and whatever else the hostess thinks will be useful.\n\n\n=THE ANNOUNCEMENT OF GUESTS=\n\nThe butler's duty is to stand near the entrance to the reception or\ndrawing-room, and as each guest arrives (unless they are known to him) he\nasks: \"What name, please?\" He then leads the way into the room where the\nhostess is receiving, and says distinctly: \"Mr. and Mrs. Jones.\" If Mrs.\nJones is considerably in advance of her husband, he says: \"Mrs. Jones!\"\nthen waits for Mr. Jones to approach before announcing: \"Mr. Jones!\"\n\nAt a very large party such as a ball, or a very big tea or musical, he\ndoes not leave his place, but stands just outside the drawing-room, and\nthe hostess stands just within, and as the guests pass through the door,\nhe announces each one's name.\n\nIt is said to be customary in certain places to have waitresses announce\npeople. But in New York guests are never announced if there are no men\nservants. At a very large function such as a ball or tea, a hostess who\nhas no butler at home, always employs one for the occasion. If, for\ninstance, she is giving a ball for her daughter, and all the sons and\ndaughters of her own acquaintance are invited, the chances are that not\nhalf or even a quarter of her guests are known to her by sight, so that\ntheir announcement is not a mere matter of form but of necessity.\n\n\n=THE ANNOUNCEMENT OF DINNER=\n\nWhen the butler on entering the room to announce dinner, happens to catch\nthe attention of the hostess, he merely bows. Otherwise he approaches\nwithin speaking distance and says, \"Dinner is served.\" He never says,\n\"Dinner is ready.\"\n\nAt a large dinner where it is quite a promenade to circle the table in\nsearch of one's name, the butler stands just within the dining-room and\neither reads from a list or says from memory \"right\" or \"left\" as the case\nmay be, to each gentleman and lady on approaching. In a few of the\nsmartest houses a leaf has been taken from the practise of royalty and a\ntable plan arranged in the front hall, which is shown to each gentleman at\nthe moment when he takes the envelope enclosing the name of his partner at\ndinner. This table plan is merely a diagram made in leather with white\nname cards that slip into spaces corresponding to the seats at the table.\nOn this a gentleman can see exactly where he sits and between whom; so\nthat if he does not know the lady who is to be on his left as well as the\none he is to \"take in,\" he has plenty of time before going to the table to\nask his host to present him.\n\nAt the end of the evening, the butler is always at the front door--and by\nthat time, unless the party is very large, he should have remembered\ntheir names, if he is a perfect butler, and as Mr. and Mrs. Jones appear\nhe opens the door and calls down to the chauffeur \"Mr. Jones' car!\" And in\nthe same way \"Mr. Smith's car!\" \"Miss Gilding's car!\" When a car is at the\ndoor, the chauffeur runs up the steps and says to the butler: \"Miss\nGilding's car\" or \"Mrs. Jones' car.\" The butler then announces to either\nMr. or Mrs. Jones, \"Your car, sir,\" or \"Your car, madam,\" and holds the\ndoor open for her to go out, or he may say, \"Your car, Miss,\" if the\nGilding car comes first.\n\n\n=DINING-ROOM SERVICE AT PRIVATE ENTERTAINMENTS=\n\nSupper at a ball in a great house (big enough for a ball) is usually in\ncharge of the butler, who by \"supper time\" is free from his duties of\n\"announcing\" and is able to look after the dining-room service. The\nsit-down supper at a ball is served exactly like a dinner--or a wedding\nbreakfast; and the buffet supper of a dance is like the buffet of a\nwedding reception.\n\nAt a large tea where the butler is on duty \"announcing\" at the same time\nthat other guests are going into the dining-room for refreshments, the\ndining-room service has to be handed over to the first footman and his\nassistants or a capable waitress is equally able to meet the situation.\nShe should have at least two maids with her, as they have to pour all cups\nof tea and bouillon and chocolate as well as to take away used cups and\nplates and see that the food on the table is replenished.\n\nAt a small tea where ladies perform the office of pouring, one man or maid\nin the dining-room is plenty, to bring in more hot water or fresh cups, or\nwhatever the table hostesses have need of.\n\n\n=FORMAL SERVICE WITHOUT MEN SERVANTS=\n\nMany, and very fastidious, people, who live in big houses and entertain\nconstantly, have neither men servants nor employ a caterer, ever.\nEfficient women take men's places equally well, though two services are\nomitted. Women never (in New York at least) announce guests or open the\ndoors of motors. But there is no difference whatsoever in the details of\nthe pantry, dining-room, hall or dressing-room, whether the services are\nperformed by men or women. (No women, of course, are ever on duty in the\ngentlemen's dressing-rooms.)\n\nAt an evening party, the door is opened by the waitress, assisted by the\nparlor-maid who directs the way to the dressing-rooms. The guests, when\nthey are ready to go in the drawing-room, approach the hostess\nunannounced. A guest who may not be known by sight does not wait for her\nhostess to recognize her but says at once, \"How do you do, Mrs. Eminent,\nI'm Mrs. Joseph Blank\"; or a young girl says, \"I am Constance Style\" (not\n\"Miss Style,\" unless she is beyond the \"twenties\"); or a married woman\nmerely announces herself as \"Mrs. Town.\" She does not add her husband's\nname as it is taken for granted that the gentleman following her is Mr.\nTown.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\nTEAS AND OTHER AFTERNOON PARTIES\n\n\n=TEAS=\n\nExcept at a wedding, the function strictly understood by the word\n\"reception\" went out of fashion, in New York at least, during the reign of\nQueen Victoria, and its survivor is a public or semi-public affair\npresided over by a committee, and is a serious, rather than a merely\nsocial event.\n\nThe very word \"reception\" brings to mind an aggregation of personages,\nvery formal, very dressed up, very pompous, and very learned, among whom\nthe ordinary mortal can not do other than wander helplessly in the\nlabyrinth of the specialist's jargon. Art critics on a varnishing day\nreception, are sure to dwell on the effect of a new technique, and the\ncomment of most of us, to whom a painting ought to look like a \"picture,\"\nis fatal. Equally fatal to meet an explorer and not know where or what he\nexplored; or to meet a celebrated author and not have the least idea\nwhether he wrote detective stories or expounded Taoism. On the other hand\nit is certainly discouraging after studying up on the latest Cretan\nexcavations in order to talk intelligently to Professor Diggs, to be\npigeon-holed for the afternoon beside Mrs. Newmother whose interest in\ndiscovery is limited to \"a new tooth in baby's head.\"\n\nYet the difference between a reception and a tea is one of atmosphere\nonly, like the difference in furnishing twin houses. One is enveloped in\nthe heavy gloom of the mid-Victorian period, the other is light and\nalluring in the fashion of to-day.\n\nA \"tea,\" even though it be formal, is nevertheless friendly and inviting.\nOne does not go in \"church\" clothes nor with ceremonious manner; but in an\ninformal and every-day spirit, to see one's friends and be seen by them.\n\n\n=THE AFTERNOON TEA WITH DANCING=\n\nThe afternoon tea with dancing is usually given to \"bring out\" a daughter,\nor to present a new daughter-in-law. The invitations are the same whether\none hundred or two thousand are sent out. For instance:\n\n           Mrs. Grantham Jones\n\n            Miss Muriel Jones\n\n            will be at home\n\n    on Tuesday, the third of December\n\n      from four until seven o'clock\n\n            The Fitz-Cherry\n\n    Dancing\n\nAs invitations to formal teas of this sort are sent to the hostess'\n\"general\" visiting list, and very big houses are comparatively few, a\nballroom is nearly always engaged at a hotel. Many hotels have a big and a\nsmall ballroom, and unless one's acquaintance is enormous the smaller room\nis preferable.\n\nToo much space for too few people gives an effect of emptiness which\nalways is suggestive of failure; also one must not forget that an\nundecorated room needs more people to make it look \"trimmed\" than one in\nwhich the floral decoration is lavish. On the other hand, a \"crush\" is\nvery disagreeable, even though it always gives the effect of \"success.\"\n\nThe arrangements are not as elaborate as for a ball. At most a screen of\npalms behind which the musicians sit (unless they sit in a gallery),\nperhaps a few festoons of green here and there, and the d\u00e9butante's own\nflowers banked on tables where she stands to receive, form as much\ndecoration as is ever attempted.\n\nWhether in a public ballroom or a private drawing-room, the curtains over\nthe windows are drawn and the lights lighted as if for a ball in the\nevening. If the tea is at a private house there is no awning unless it\nrains, but there is a chauffeur or coachman at the curb to open motor\ndoors, and a butler, or caterer's man, to open the door of the house\nbefore any one has time to ring.\n\nGuests as they arrive are announced either by the hostess' own butler or a\ncaterer's \"announcer.\" The hostess receives everyone as at a ball; if she\nand her daughter are for the moment standing alone, the new arrival, if a\nfriend, stands talking with them until a newer arrival takes his or her\nplace.\n\nAfter \"receiving\" with her mother or mother-in-law for an hour or so, as\nsoon as the crowd thins a little, the d\u00e9butante or bride may be allowed to\ndance.\n\nThe younger people, as soon as they have shaken hands with the hostess,\ndance. The older ones sit about, or talk to friends or take tea.\n\nAt a formal tea, the tea-table is exactly like that at a wedding\nreception, in that it is a large table set as a buffet, and is always in\ncharge of the caterer's men, or the hostess' own butler or waitress and\nassistants. It is never presided over by deputy hostesses.\n\n\n=THE MENU IS LIMITED=\n\nOnly tea, bouillon, chocolate, bread and cakes are served. There can be\nall sorts of sandwiches, hot biscuits, crumpets, muffins, sliced cake and\nlittle cakes in every variety that a cook or caterer can devise--whatever\ncan come under the head of \"bread and cake\" is admissible; but nothing\nelse, or it becomes a \"reception,\" and not a \"tea.\" At the end of the\ntable or on a separate table near by, there are bowls or pitchers of\norangeade or lemonade or \"punch\" (meaning in these days something cold\nthat has fruit juice in it) for the dancers, exactly as at a ball.\n\nGuests go to the table and help themselves to their own selection of bread\nand cakes. The chocolate, already poured into cups and with whipped cream\non top, is passed on a tray by a servant. Tea also poured into cups, not\nmixed but accompanied by a small pitcher of cream, bowl of sugar, and dish\nof lemon, is also passed on a tray. A guest taking her plate of food in\none hand and her tea or chocolate in the other, finds herself a chair\nsomewhere, if possible, near a table, so that she can take her tea without\ndiscomfort.\n\n\n=AFTERNOON TEAS WITHOUT DANCING=\n\nAfternoon teas without dancing are given in honor of visiting celebrities\nor new neighbors or engaged couples, or to \"warm\" a new house; or, most\noften, for a house-guest from another city.\n\nThe invitation is a visiting card of the hostess with \"to meet Mrs.\nSo-and-So\" across the top of it and \"Jan. 10, Tea at 4 o'clock\" in the\nlower corner, opposite the address.\n\nAt a tea of this description, tea and chocolate may be passed on trays or\npoured by two ladies, as will be explained below.\n\nUnless the person for whom the tea is given is such a celebrity that the\n\"tea\" becomes a \"reception,\" the hostess does not stand at the door, but\nmerely near it so that anyone coming in may easily find her. The ordinary\nafternoon tea given for one reason or another is, in winter, merely and\nliterally, being at home on a specified afternoon with the blinds and\ncurtains drawn, the room lighted as at night, a fire burning and a large\ntea-table spread in the dining-room or a small one near the hearth. An\nafternoon tea in summer is the same, except that artificial light is never\nused, and the table is most often on a veranda.\n\n\n=\"DO COME IN FOR A CUP OF TEA\"=\n\nThis is Best Society's favorite form of invitation. It is used on nearly\nevery occasion whether there is to be music or a distinguished visitor, or\nwhether a hostess has merely an inclination to see her friends. She writes\non her personal visiting card: \"Do come in on Friday for a cup of tea and\nhear Ellwin play, or Farrish sing, or to meet Senator West, or Lady X.\" Or\neven more informally: \"I have not seen you for so long.\"\n\nInvitations to a tea of this description are never \"general.\" A hostess\nasks either none but close friends, or at most her \"dining\" list;\nsometimes this sort of a \"tea\" is so small that she sits behind her own\ntea-table--exactly as she does every afternoon.\n\nBut if the tea is of any size, from twenty upwards, the table is set in\nthe dining-room and two intimate friends of the hostess \"pour\" tea at one\nend, and chocolate at the other. The ladies who \"pour\" are always\nespecially invited beforehand and always wear afternoon dresses, with\nhats, of course, as distinguished from the street clothes of other guests.\nAs soon as a hostess decides to give a tea, she selects two friends for\nthis duty who are, in her opinion, decorative in appearance and also who\n(this is very important) can be counted on for gracious manners to\neveryone and under all circumstances.\n\nIt does not matter if a guest going into the dining-room for a cup of tea\nor chocolate does not know the deputy hostesses who are \"pouring.\" It is\nperfectly correct for a stranger to say \"May I have a cup of tea?\"\n\nThe one pouring should answer very, responsively, \"Certainly! How do you\nlike it? Strong or weak?\"\n\nIf the latter, she deluges it with hot water, and again watching for the\nguest's negative or approval, adds cream or lemon or sugar. Or, preferring\nchocolate, the guest perhaps goes to the other end of the table and asks\nfor a cup of chocolate. The table hostess at that end also says\n\"Certainly,\" and pours out chocolate. If she is surrounded with people,\nshe smiles as she hands it out, and that is all. But if she is unoccupied\nand her momentary \"guest by courtesy\" is alone, it is merest good manners\non her part to make a few pleasant remarks. Very likely when asked for\nchocolate she says: \"How nice of you! I have been feeling very neglected\nat my end. Everyone seems to prefer tea.\" Whereupon the guest ventures\nthat people are afraid of chocolate because it is so fattening or so hot.\nAfter an observation or two about the weather, or the beauty of the china\nor how good the little cakes look, or the sandwiches taste, the guest\nfinishes her chocolate.\n\nIf the table hostess is still unoccupied the guest smiles and slightly\nnods \"Good-by,\" but if the other's attention has been called upon by\nsomeone else, she who has finished her chocolate, leaves unnoticed.\n\nIf another lady coming into the dining-room is an acquaintance of one of\nthe table hostesses, the new visitor draws up a chair, if there is room,\nand drinks her tea or chocolate at the table. But as soon as she has\nfinished, she should give her place up to a newer arrival. Or perhaps a\nfriend appears, and the two take their tea together over in another part\nof the room, or at vacant places farther down the table. The tea-table is\nnot set with places; but at a table where ladies are pouring, and\nespecially at a tea that is informal, a number of chairs are usually ready\nto be drawn up for those who like to take their tea at the table.\n\nIn many cities, strangers who find themselves together in the house of a\nfriend in common, always talk. In New York smart people always do at\ndinners or luncheons, but never at a general entertainment. Their\ncordiality to a stranger would depend largely upon the informal, or\nintimate, quality of the tea party; it would depend on who the stranger\nmight be, and who the New Yorker. Mrs. Worldly would never dream of\nspeaking to anyone--no matter whom--if it could be avoided. Mrs. Kindhart\non the other hand, talks to everyone, everywhere and always. Mrs.\nKindhart's position is as good as Mrs. Worldly's every bit, but perhaps\nshe can be more relaxed; not being the conspicuous hostess that Mrs.\nWorldly is, she is not so besieged by position-makers and\ninvitation-seekers. Perhaps Mrs. Worldly, finding that nearly every one\nwho approaches her wants something, has come instinctively to avoid each\nnew approach.\n\n[Illustration: \"THE AFTERNOON TEA-TABLE IS THE SAME IN ITS SERVICE WHETHER\nIN THE TINY BANDBOX HOUSE OF THE NEWEST BRIDE, OR IN THE DRAWING-ROOM OF\nMRS. WORLDLY OF GREAT ESTATES.\" [Page 171.]]\n\n\n=THE EVERY-DAY AFTERNOON TEA TABLE=\n\nThe every-day afternoon tea table is familiar to everyone; there is not\nthe slightest difference in its service whether in the tiny bandbox house\nof the newest bride, or in the drawing-room of Mrs. Worldly of Great\nEstates, except that in the little house the tray is brought in by a\nwoman--often a picture in appearance and appointment--instead of a butler\nwith one or two footmen in his wake. In either case a table is placed in\nfront of the hostess. A tea-table is usually of the drop-leaf variety\nbecause it is more easily moved than a solid one. There are really no\n\"correct\" dimensions; any small table is suitable. It ought not to be so\nhigh that the hostess seems submerged behind it, nor so small as to be\noverhung by the tea tray and easily knocked over. It is usually between 24\nand 26 inches wide and from 27 to 36 inches long, or it may be oval or\noblong. A double-decked table that has its second deck above the main\ntable is not good because the tea tray perched on the upper deck is\nneither graceful nor convenient. In proper serving, not only of tea but of\ncold drinks of all sorts, even where a quantity of bottles, pitchers and\nglasses need space, everything should be brought on a tray and not\ntrundled in on a tea-wagon!\n\nA cloth must always be first placed on the table, before putting down the\ntray. The tea cloth may be a yard, a yard and a half, or two yards square.\nIt may barely cover the table, or it may hang half a yard over each edge.\nA yard and a quarter is the average size. A tea cloth can be colored, but\nthe conventional one is of white linen, with little or much white\nneedlework or lace, or both.\n\nOn this is put a tray big enough to hold everything except the plates of\nfood. The tray may be a massive silver one that requires a footman with\nstrong arms to lift it, or it may be of Sheffield or merely of effectively\nlacquered tin. In any case, on it should be: a kettle which ought to be\nalready boiling, with a spirit lamp under it, an empty tea-pot, a caddy of\ntea, a tea strainer and slop bowl, cream pitcher and sugar bowl, and, on a\nglass dish, lemon in slices. A pile of cups and saucers and a stack of\nlittle tea plates, all to match, with a napkin (about 12 inches square,\nhemstitched or edged to match the tea cloth) folded on each of the plates,\nlike the filling of a layer cake, complete the paraphernalia. Each plate\nis lifted off with its own napkin. Then on the tea-table, back of the\ntray, or on the shelves of a separate \"curate,\" a stand made of three\nsmall shelves, each just big enough for one good-sized plate, are always\ntwo, usually three, varieties of cake and hot breads.\n\n\n=THINGS PEOPLE EAT AT TEA=\n\nThe top dish on the \"curate\" should be a covered one, and holds hot bread\nof some sort; the two lower dishes may be covered or not, according to\nwhether the additional food is hot or cold; the second dish usually holds\nsandwiches, and the third cake. Or perhaps all the dishes hold cake;\nlittle fancy cakes for instance, and pastries and slices of layer cakes.\nMany prefer a simpler diet, and have bread and butter, or toasted\ncrackers, supplemented by plain cookies. Others pile the \"curate\" until it\nliterally staggers, under pastries and cream cakes and sandwiches of p\u00e2t\u00e9\nde foie gras or mayonnaise. Others, again, like marmalade, or jam, or\nhoney on bread and butter or on buttered toast or muffins. This\nnecessitates little butter knives and a dish of jam added to the already\noverloaded tea tray.\n\nSelection of afternoon tea food is entirely a matter of whim, and new\nfood-fads sweep through communities. For a few months at a time, everyone,\nwhether in a private house or a country club, will eat nothing but English\nmuffins and jam, then suddenly they like only toasted cheese crackers, or\nSally Lunn, or chocolate cake with whipped cream on top. The present fad\nof a certain group in New York is bacon and toast sandwiches and fresh hot\ngingerbread. Let it be hoped for the sake of the small household that it\nwill die out rather than become epidemic, since the gingerbread must be\nbaked every afternoon, and the toast and bacon are two other items that\ncome from a range.\n\nSandwiches for afternoon tea as well as for all collations, are made by\nbuttering the end of the loaf, spreading on the \"filling\" and then cutting\noff the prepared slice as thin as possible. A second slice, unspread,\nmakes the other side of the sandwich. When it is put together, the crust\nis either cut off leaving a square and the square again divided diagonally\ninto two triangular sandwiches, or the sandwich is cut into shape with a\nregular cutter. In other words, a \"party\" sandwich is not the sort of\nsandwich to eat--or order--when hungry!\n\nThe tea served to a lady who lives alone and cares for only one dish of\neatables would naturally eliminate the other two. But if a visitor is\n\"received,\" the servant on duty should, without being told, at once bring\nin at least another dish and an additional cup, saucer, plate and napkin.\n\nAfternoon tea at a very large house party or where especially invited\npeople are expected for tea, should include two plates of hot food such as\ntoast or hot biscuits split open and buttered, toasted and buttered\nEnglish muffins, or crumpets, corn muffins or hot gingerbread. Two cold\nplates should contain cookies or fancy cakes, and perhaps a layer cake. In\nhot weather, in place of one of the hot dishes, there should be p\u00e2t\u00e9 or\nlettuce sandwiches, and always a choice of hot or iced tea, or perhaps\niced coffee or chocolate frapp\u00e9, but rarely if ever, anything else.\n\n\n=THE ETIQUETTE OF TEA SERVING AND DRINKING=\n\nAs tea is the one meal of intimate conversation, a servant never comes to\nthe room at tea-time unless rung for, to bring fresh water or additional\nchina or food, or to take away used dishes. When the tray and curate are\nbrought in, individual tables, usually glass topped and very small and\nlow, are put beside each of the guests, and the servant then withdraws.\nThe hostess herself \"makes\" the tea and pours it. Those who sit near\nenough to her put out their hands for their cup-and-saucer. If any ladies\nare sitting farther off, and a gentleman is present, he, of course, rises\nand takes the tea from the hostess to the guest. He also then passes the\ncurate, afterward putting it back where it belongs and resuming his seat.\nIf no gentleman is present, a lady gets up and takes her own tea which the\nhostess hands her, carries it to her own little individual table, comes\nback, takes a plate and napkin, helps herself to what she likes and goes\nto her place.\n\nIf the cake is very soft and sticky or filled with cream, small forks must\nbe laid on the tea-table.\n\nAs said above, if jam is to be eaten on toast or bread, there must be\nlittle butter knives to spread it with. Each guest in taking her plate\nhelps herself to toast and jam and a knife and carries her plate over to\nher own little table. She then carries her cup of tea to her table and\nsits down comfortably to drink it. If there are no little tables, she\neither draws her chair up to the tea-table, or manages as best she can to\nbalance plate, cup and saucer on her lap--a very difficult feat!\n\nIn fact, the hostess who, providing no individual tables, expects her\nguest to balance knife, fork, jam, cream cake, plate and cup and saucer,\nall on her knees, should choose her friends in the circus rather than in\nsociety.\n\n\n=THE GARDEN PARTY=\n\nThe garden party is merely an afternoon tea out of doors. It may be as\nelaborate as a sit-down wedding breakfast or as simple as a miniature\nstrawberry festival. At an elaborate one (in the rainy section of our\ncountry) a tent or marquise with sides that can be easily drawn up in fine\nweather and dropped in rain, and with a good dancing floor, is often put\nup on the lawn or next to the veranda, so that in case of storm people\nwill not be obliged to go out of doors. The orchestra is placed within or\nnear open sides of the tent, so that it can he heard on the lawn and\nveranda as well as where they are dancing. Or instead of a tea with\ndancing, if most of the guests are to be older, there may be a concert or\nother form of professional entertainment.\n\nOn the lawn there are usually several huge bright-colored umbrella tents,\nand under each a table and a group of chairs, and here and there numerous\nsmall tables and chairs. For, although the afternoon tea is always put in\nthe dining-room footmen or maids carry varieties of food out on large\ntrays to the lawn, and the guests hold plates on their knees and stand\nglasses on tables nearby.\n\nAt a garden party the food is often much more prodigal than at a tea in\ntown. Sometimes it is as elaborate as at a wedding reception. In addition\nto hot tea and chocolate, there is either iced coffee or a very melted\ncaf\u00e9 parfait, or frosted chocolate in cups. There are also pitchers of\nvarious drinks that have rather mysterious ingredients, but are all very\nmuch iced and embellished with crushed fruits and mint leaves. There are\noften berries with cream, especially in strawberry season, on an estate\nthat prides itself on those of its own growing, as well as the inevitable\narray of fancy sandwiches and cakes.\n\nAt teas and musicales and all entertainments where the hostess herself is\nobliged to stand at the door, her husband or a daughter (if the hostess is\nold enough, and lucky enough to have one) or else a sister or a very close\nfriend, should look after the guests, to see that any who are strangers\nare not helplessly wandering about alone, and that elderly ladies are\ngiven seats if there is to be a performance, or to show any other\ncourtesies that devolve upon a hostess.\n\n\n=THE ATMOSPHERE OF HOSPITALITY=\n\nThe atmosphere of hospitality is something very intangible, and yet\nnothing is more actually felt--or missed. There are certain houses that\nseem to radiate warmth like an open wood fire, there are others that\nsuggest an arrival by wireless at the North Pole, even though a much\nbrighter actual fire may be burning on the hearth in the drawing-room of\nthe second than of the first. Some people have the gift of hospitality;\nothers whose intentions are just as kind and whose houses are perfection\nin luxury of appointments, seem to petrify every approach. Such people\nappearing at a picnic color the entire scene with the blue light of their\nausterity. Such people are usually not masters, but slaves, of etiquette.\nTheir chief concern is whether this is correct, or whether that is\nproperly done, or is this person or that such an one as they care to know?\nThey seem, like _Hermione_ (Don Marquis's heroine), to be anxiously asking\nthemselves, \"Have I failed to-day, or have I not?\"\n\nIntrospective people who are fearful of others, fearful of themselves, are\nnever successfully popular hosts or hostesses. If you for instance, are\none of these, if you are _really_ afraid of knowing some one who might\nsome day prove unpleasant, if you are such a snob that you can't take\npeople at their face value, then why make the effort to bother with people\nat all? Why not shut your front door tight and pull down the blinds and,\nsitting before a mirror in your own drawing-room, order tea for two?\n\n[Illustration: \"THE PERFECT EXAMPLE OF A FORMAL DINNER TABLE OF WEALTH,\nLUXURY AND TASTE, WHICH INVOLVES NO EFFORT ON THE PART OF THE HOSTESS OF A\nGREAT HOUSE BEYOND DECIDING UPON THE DATE AND THE PRINCIPAL GUESTS WHO ARE\nTO FORM THE NUCLEUS OF THE PARTY.\" [Page 177.]]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\nFORMAL DINNERS\n\n\n=NOT FOR THE NOVICE TO ATTEMPT=\n\nIf the great world of society were a university which issued degrees to\nthose whom it trains to its usages, the _magna cum laude_ honors would be\nawarded without question, not to the hostess who may have given the most\nmarvelous ball of the decade, but to her who knows best every component\ndetail of preparation and service, no less than every inexorable rule of\netiquette, in formal dinner-giving.\n\nTo give a perfect dinner of ceremony is the supreme accomplishment of a\nhostess! It means not alone perfection of furnishing, of service, of\nculinary skill, but also of personal charm, of tact. The only other\noccasion when a hostess must have equal--and possibly even greater\nability--is the large and somewhat formal week-end party, which includes a\ndinner or two as by no means its least formidable features.\n\nThere are so many aspects to be considered in dinner giving that it is\ndifficult to know whether to begin up-stairs or down, or with furnishing,\nor service, or people, or manners! One thing is certain, no novice should\never begin her social career by attempting a formal dinner, any more than\na pupil swimmer, upon being able to take three strokes alone, should\nattempt to swim three miles out to sea. The former will as surely drown as\nthe latter.\n\n\n=HOW A DINNER IS GIVEN IN A GREAT HOUSE=\n\nWhen Mrs. Worldly gives a dinner, it means no effort on her part\nwhatsoever beyond deciding upon the date and the principal guests who are\nto form the nucleus; every further detail is left to her\nsubordinates--even to the completion of her list of guests. For instance,\nshe decides that she will have an \"older\" dinner, and finding that the\ntenth is available for herself, she tells her secretary to send out\ninvitations for that date. She does not have especial cards engraved but\nuses the dinner blank described in the chapter on Invitations. She then\nlooks through her \"dinner list\" and orders her secretary to invite the\nOldworlds, the Eminents, the Learneds, the Wellborns, the Highbrows, and\nthe Onceweres. She also picks out three or four additional names to be\nsubstituted for those who regret. Then turning to the \"younger married\"\nlist she searches for a few suitable but \"amusing\" or good-looking ones to\ngive life to her dinner which might otherwise be heavy. But her favorites\ndo not seem appropriate. It will not do to ask the Bobo Gildings, not\nbecause of the difference in age but because Lucy Gilding smokes like a\nfurnace and is miserable unless she can play bridge for high stakes, and,\njust as soon as she can bolt through dinner, sit at a card table; while\nMrs. Highbrow and Mrs. Oncewere quite possibly disapprove of women's\nsmoking and are surely horrified at \"gambling.\" The Smartlings won't do\neither, for the same reason, nor the Gaylies. She can't ask the Newell\nRiches either, because Mrs. Oldworld and Mrs. Wellborn both dislike\nvulgarity too much to find compensation in qualities which are merely\namusing. So she ends by adding her own friends the Kindharts and the\nNormans, who \"go\" with everyone, and a few somewhat younger people, and\napproves her secretary's suggestions as to additional names if those first\ninvited should \"regret.\"\n\nThe list being settled, Mrs. Worldly's own work is done. She sends word to\nher cook that there will be twenty-four on the tenth; the menu will be\nsubmitted to her later, which she will probably merely glance at and send\nback. She never sees or thinks about her table, which is in the butler's\nprovince.\n\nOn the morning of the dinner her secretary brings her the place cards,\n(the name of each person expected, written on a separate card) and she\nputs them in the order in which they are to be placed on the table, very\nmuch as though playing solitaire. Starting with her own card at one end\nand her husband's at the other, she first places the lady of honor on\nhis right, the second in importance on his left. Then on either side of\nherself, she puts the two most important gentlemen. The others she fits in\nbetween, trying to seat side by side those congenial to each other.\n\n[Illustration: \"DETAIL OF PLACE SET AT A FORMAL DINNER TABLE OF A GREAT\nHOUSE.\" [Page 179.]]\n\nWhen the cards are arranged, the secretary attends to putting the name of\nthe lady who sits on each gentleman's right in the envelope addressed to\nhim. She then picks up the place cards still stacked in their proper\nsequence, and takes them to the butler who will put them in the order\narranged on the table after it is set.\n\nFifteen minutes before the dinner hour, Mrs. Worldly is already standing\nin her drawing-room. She has no personal responsibility other than that of\nbeing hostess. The whole machinery of equipment and service runs seemingly\nby itself. It does not matter whether she knows what the menu is. Her cook\nis more than capable of attending to it. That the table shall be perfect\nis merely the every-day duty of the butler. She knows without looking that\none of the chauffeurs is on the sidewalk; that footmen are in the hall;\nthat her own maid is in the ladies' dressing-room, and the valet in that\nof the gentlemen; and that her butler is just outside the door near which\nshe is standing.\n\nSo with nothing on her mind (except a jewelled ornament and perfectly\n\"done\" hair) she receives her guests with the tranquillity attained only\nby those whose household--whether great or small--can be counted on to run\nlike a perfectly coordinated machine.\n\n\n=HOW A DINNER CAN BE BUNGLED=\n\nThis is the contrasting picture to the dinner at the Worldly's--a picture\nto show you particularly who are a bride how awful an experiment in dinner\ngiving can be.\n\nLet us suppose that you have a quite charming house, and that your wedding\npresents included everything necessary to set a well-appointed table. You\nhave not very experienced servants, but they would all be good ones with a\nlittle more training.\n\nYou have been at home for so few meals you don't quite know how\nexperienced they are. Your cook at least makes good coffee and eggs and\ntoast for breakfast, and the few other meals she has cooked seemed to be\nall right, and she is such a nice clean person!\n\nSo when your house is \"in order\" and the last pictures and curtains are\nhung, the impulse suddenly comes to you to give a dinner! Your husband\nthinks it is a splendid idea. It merely remains to decide whom you will\nask. You hesitate between a few of your own intimates, or older people,\nand decide it would be such fun to ask a few of the hostesses whose houses\nyou have almost lived at ever since you \"came out.\" You decide to ask Mrs.\nToplofty, Mr. Clubwin Doe, the Worldlys, the Gildings, and the Kindharts\nand the Wellborns. With yourselves that makes twelve. You can't have more\nthan twelve because you have only a dozen of everything; in fact you\ndecide that twelve will be pretty crowded, but that it will be safe to ask\nthat number because a few are sure to \"regret.\" So you write notes (since\nit is to be a formal dinner), and--they all accept! You are a little\nworried about the size of the dining-room, but you are overcome by the\nfeeling of your popularity. Now the thing to do is to prepare for a\ndinner. The fact that Nora probably can't make fancy dishes does not\nbother you a bit. In your mind's eye you see delicious plain food passed;\nyou must get Sigrid a dress that properly fits her, and Delia, the\nchambermaid (who was engaged with the understanding that she was to serve\nin the dining-room when there was company), has not yet been at table, but\nshe is a very willing young person who will surely look well.\n\nNora, when you tell her who are coming, eagerly suggests the sort of menu\nthat would appear on the table of the Worldlys or the Gildings. You are\nthrilled at the thought of your own kitchen producing the same. That it\nmay be the same in name only, does not occur to you. You order flowers for\nthe table, and candy for your four compotiers. You pick out your best\ntablecloth, but you find rather to your amazement that when the waitress\nasks you about setting the table, you have never noticed in detail how the\nplaces are laid. Knives and spoons go on the right of the plate, of\ncourse, and forks on the left, but which goes next to the plate, or\nwhether the wine glasses should stand nearer or beyond the goblet you can\nonly guess. It is quite simple, however, to give directions in serving;\nyou just tell the chambermaid that she is to follow the waitress, and pass\nthe sauces and the vegetables. And you have already explained carefully to\nthe latter that she must not deal plates around the table like a pack of\ncards, or ever take them off in piles either. (_That_ much at least you do\nknow.) You also make it a point above everything that the silver must be\nvery clean; Sigrid seems to understand, and with the optimism of youth,\nyou approach the dinner hour without misgiving. The table, set with your\nwedding silver and glass, looks quite nice. You are a little worried about\nthe silver--it does look rather yellow, but perhaps it is just a shadow.\nThen you notice there are a great many forks on the table! You ask your\nhusband what is the matter with the forks? He does not see anything wrong.\nYou need them all for the dinner you ordered, how can there be less? So\nyou straighten a candlestick that was out of line, and put the place cards\non.\n\nThen you go into the drawing-room. You don't light the fire until the last\nmoment, because you want it to be burning brightly when your guests\narrive. Your drawing-room looks a little stiff somehow, but an open fire\nmore than anything else makes a room inviting, and you light it just as\nyour first guest rings the bell. As Mr. Clubwin Doe enters, the room looks\ncharming, then suddenly the fire smokes, and in the midst of the smoke\nyour other guests arrive. Every one begins to cough and blink. They are\nvery polite, but the smoke, growing each moment denser, is not to be\noverlooked. Mrs. Toplofty takes matters in her own hands and makes Mr. Doe\nand your husband carry the logs, smoke and all, and throw them into the\nyard. The room still thick with smoke is now cheerlessly fireless, and\nanother factor beginning to distress you is that, although everyone has\narrived, there is no sign of dinner. You wait, at first merely eager to\nget out of the smoke-filled drawing-room. Gradually you are becoming\nnervous--what can have happened? The dining-room door might be that of a\ntomb for all the evidence of life behind it. You become really alarmed.\nIs dinner never going to be served? Everyone's eyes are red from the\nsmoke, and conversation is getting weaker and weaker. Mrs.\nToplofty--evidently despairing--sits down. Mrs. Worldly also sits, both\nhold their eyes shut and say nothing. At last the dining-room door opens,\nand Sigrid instead of bowing slightly and saying in a low tone of voice,\n\"Dinner is served,\" stands stiff as a block of wood, and fairly shouts:\n\"Dinner's all ready!\"\n\nYou hope no one heard her, but you know very well that nothing escaped any\none of those present. And between the smoke and the delay and your\nwaitress' manners, you are already thoroughly mortified by the time you\nreach the table. But you hope that at least the dinner will be good. For\nthe first time you are assailed with doubt on that score. And again you\nwait, but the oyster course is all right. And then comes the soup. You\ndon't have to taste it to see that it is wrong. It looks not at all as\n\"clear\" soup should! Its color, instead of being glass-clear amber, is\ngreasy-looking brown. You taste it, fearing the worst, and the worst is\nrealized. It tastes like dish-water--and is barely tepid. You look around\nthe table; Mr. Kindhart alone is trying to eat it.\n\nIn removing the plates, Delia, the assistant, takes them up by piling one\non top of the other, clashing them together as she does so. You can feel\nMrs. Worldly looking with almost hypnotized fascination--as her attention\nmight be drawn to a street accident against her will. Then there is a\nwait. You wait and wait, and looking in front of you, you notice the bare\ntablecloth without a plate. You know instantly that the service is wrong,\nbut you find yourself puzzled to know how it should have been done.\nFinally Sigrid comes in with a whole dozen plates stacked in a pile, which\nshe proceeds to deal around the table. You at least know that to try to\ninterfere would only make matters worse. You hold your own cold fingers in\nyour lap knowing that you must sit there, and that you can do nothing.\n\nThe fish which was to have been a _mousse_ with Hollandaise sauce, is a\nhuge mound, much too big for the platter, with a narrow gutter of water\naround the edge and the center dabbed over with a curdled yellow mess. You\nrealize that not only is the food itself awful, but that the quantity is\ntoo great for one dish. You don't know what to do next; you know there is\nno use in apologizing, there is no way of dropping through the floor, or\nwaking yourself up. You have collected the smartest and the most critical\npeople around your table to put them to torture such as they will never\nforget. Never! You have to bite your lips to keep from crying. Whatever\npossessed you to ask these people to your horrible house?\n\nMr. Kindhart, sitting next to you, says gently, \"Cheer up, little girl, it\ndoesn't really matter!\" And then you know to the full how terrible the\nsituation is. The meal is endless; each course is equally unappetizing to\nlook at, and abominably served. You notice that none of your guests eat\nanything. They can't.\n\nYou leave the table literally sick, but realizing fully that the giving of\na dinner is not as easy as you thought. And in the drawing-room, which is\nnow fireless and freezing, but at least smokeless, you start to apologize\nand burst into tears!\n\nAs you are very young, and those present are all really fond of you, they\ntry to be comforting, but you know that it will be years (if ever) before\nany of them will be willing to risk an evening in your house again. You\nalso know that without malice, but in truth and frankness, they will tell\neveryone: \"Whatever you do, don't dine with the Newweds unless you eat\nyour dinner before you go, and wear black glasses so no sight can offend\nyou.\"\n\nWhen they have all gone, you drag yourself miserably up-stairs, feeling\nthat you never want to look in that drawing-room or dining-room again.\nYour husband, remembering the trenches, tries to tell you it was not so\nbad! But you _know!_ You lie awake planning to let the house, and to\ndischarge each one of your awful household the next morning, and then you\nrealize that the fault is not a bit more theirs than yours.\n\nIf you had tried the chimney first, and learned its peculiarities; if you\nyourself had known every detail of cooking and service, of course you\nwould not have attempted to give the dinner in the first place; not at\nleast until, through giving little dinners, the technique of your\nhousehold had become good enough to give a big one.\n\nOn the other hand, supposing that you had had a very experienced cook and\nwaitress; dinner would, of course, not have been bungled, but it would\nhave lacked something, somewhere, if you added nothing of your own\npersonality to its perfection. It is almost safe to make the statement\nthat no dinner is ever really well done unless the hostess herself knows\nevery smallest detail thoroughly. Mrs. Worldly pays seemingly no\nattention, but nothing escapes her. She can walk through a room without\nappearing to look either to the right or left, yet if the slightest detail\nis amiss, an ornament out of place, or there is one dull button on a\nfootman's livery, her house telephone is rung at once!\n\nHaving generalized by drawing two pictures, it is now time to take up the\nspecific details to be considered in giving a dinner.\n\n\n=DETAILED DIRECTIONS FOR DINNER GIVING=\n\nThe requisites at every dinner, whether a great one of 200 covers, or a\nlittle one of six, are as follows:\n\nGuests. People who are congenial to one another. This is of first\nimportance.\n\nFood. A suitable menu perfectly prepared and dished. (Hot food to be\n_hot_, and cold, _cold_.)\n\nTable furnishing. Faultlessly laundered linen, brilliantly polished\nsilver, and all other table accessories suitable to the occasion and\nsurroundings.\n\nService. Expert dining-room servants and enough of them.\n\nDrawing-room. Adequate in size to number of guests and inviting in\narrangement.\n\nA cordial and hospitable host.\n\nA hostess of charm. Charm says everything--tact, sympathy, poise and\nperfect manners--always.\n\nAnd though for all dinners these requisites are much the same, the\nnecessity for perfection increases in proportion to the formality of the\noccasion.\n\n\n=TASTE IN SELECTION OF PEOPLE=\n\nThe proper selection of guests is the first essential in all entertaining,\nand the hostess who has a talent for assembling the right people has a\ngreat asset. Taste in house furnishings or in clothes or in selecting a\ncook, is as nothing compared to taste in people! Some people have this\n\"sense\"--others haven't. The first are the great hosts and hostesses; the\nothers are the mediocre or the failures.\n\nIt is usually a mistake to invite great talkers together. Brilliant men\nand women who love to talk want hearers, not rivals. Very silent people\nshould be sandwiched between good talkers, or at least voluble talkers.\nSilly people should never be put anywhere near learned ones, nor the dull\nnear the clever, unless the dull one is a young and pretty woman with a\ntalent for listening, and the clever, a man with an admiration for beauty,\nand a love for talking.\n\nMost people think two brilliant people should be put together. Often they\nshould, but with discretion. If both are voluble or nervous or\n\"temperamental,\" you may create a situation like putting two operatic\nsopranos in the same part and expecting them to sing together.\n\nThe endeavor of a hostess, when seating her table, is to put those\ntogether who are likely to be interesting to each other. Professor Bugge\nmight bore _you_ to tears, but Mrs. Entomoid would probably delight in\nhim; just as Mr. Stocksan Bonds and Mrs. Rich would probably have\ninterests in common. Making a dinner list is a little like making a\nChristmas list. You put down what _they_ will (you hope) like, not what\nyou like. Those who are placed between congenial neighbors remember your\ndinner as delightful--even though both food and service were mediocre; but\nask people out of their own groups and seat them next to their pet\naversions, and wild horses could not drag them to your house again!\n\n\n=HOW A DINNER LIST IS KEPT=\n\nNearly every hostess keeps a dinner list--apart from her general visiting\nlist--of people with whom she is accustomed to dine, or to invite to\ndinner or other small entertainments. But the prominent hostess, if she\nhas grown daughters and continually gives parties of all sorts and sizes\nand ages, usually keeps her list in a more complete and \"ready reference\"\norder.\n\nMrs. Gilding, for instance, has guest lists separately indexed. Under the\ngeneral heading \"Dinners,\" she has older married, younger married, girls,\nmen. Her luncheon list is taken from her dinner list. \"Bridge\" includes\nespecially good players of all ages; \"dances,\" young married people, young\ngirls, and dancing men. Then she has a cross-index list of \"Important\nPersons,\" meaning those of real distinction who are always the foundation\nof all good society; \"Amusing,\" usually people of talent--invaluable for\nhouse parties; and \"New People,\" including many varieties and unassorted.\nMrs. Gilding exchanges invitations with a number of these because they are\ninteresting or amusing, or because their parties are diverting and\ndazzling. And Mrs. Gilding herself, being typical of New York's Cavalier\nelement rather than its Puritan strain, personally prefers diversion to\nedification. Needless to say, \"Boston's Best,\" being ninety-eight per\ncent. Puritan, has no \"new\" list. Besides her list of \"New People,\" she\nhas a short \"frivolous\" list of other Cavaliers like herself, and a\n\"Neutral\" list, which is the most valuable of all because it comprises\nthose who \"go\" with everyone. Besides her own lists she has a \"Pantry\"\nlist, a list that is actually made out for the benefit of the butler, so\nthat on occasions he can invite guests to \"fill in.\" The \"Pantry\" list\ncomprises only intimate friends who belong on the \"Neutral\" list and fit\nin everywhere; young girls and young and older single men.\n\nAllowing the butler to invite guests at his own discretion is not quite as\ncasual as it sounds. It is very often an unavoidable expedient. For\ninstance, at four o'clock in the afternoon, Mr. Blank telephones that he\ncannot come to dinner that same evening. Mrs. Gilding is out; to wait\nuntil she returns will make it too late to fill the place. Her butler who\nhas been with her for years knows quite as well as Mrs. Gilding herself\nexactly which people belong in the same group. The dinner cards being\nalready in his possession, he can see not only who is expected for dinner\nbut the two ladies between whom Mr. Blank has been placed, and he\nthereupon selects some one on the \"Pantry\" list who is suitable for Mr.\nBlank's place at the table, and telephones the invitation. Perhaps he\ncalls up a dozen before he finds one disengaged. When Mrs. Gilding returns\nhe says, \"Mr. Blank telephoned he would not be able to come for dinner as\nhe was called to Washington. Mr. Bachelor will be happy to come in his\nplace.\" Married people are seldom on this list, because the butler need\nnot undertake to fill any but an odd place--that of a gentleman\nparticularly. Otherwise two ladies would be seated together.\n\n\n=ASKING SOMEONE TO FILL A PLACE=\n\nSince no one but a fairly intimate friend is ever asked to fill a place,\nthis invitation is always telephoned. A very young man is asked by the\nbutler if he will dine with Mrs. Gilding that evening, and very likely no\nexplanation is made; but if the person to be invited is a lady or an older\ngentleman (except on such occasions as noted above), the hostess herself\ntelephones:\n\n\"Can you do me a great favor and fill a place at dinner to-night?\" The one\nwho receives this invitation is rather bound by the rules of good manners\nto accept if possible.\n\n\n=IMPORTANCE OF DINNER ENGAGEMENTS=\n\nDinner invitations must be answered immediately; engraved or written ones\nby return post, or those which were telephoned, by telephone and at once!\nAlso, nothing but serious illness or death or an utterly unavoidable\naccident can excuse the breaking of a dinner engagement.\n\nTo accept a dinner at Mrs. Nobody's and then break the obligation upon\nbeing invited to dine with the Worldlys, proclaims anyone capable of such\nrudeness an unmitigated snob, whom Mrs. Worldly would be the first to cut\nfrom her visiting list if she knew of it. The rule is: \"Don't accept an\ninvitation if you don't care about it.\" Having declined the Nobody\ninvitation in the first place, you are then free to accept Mrs. Worldly's,\nor to stay at home. There are times, however, when engagements between\nvery close friends or members of the family may perhaps be broken, but\nonly if made with the special stipulation: \"Come to dinner with us alone\nThursday if nothing better turns up!\" And the other answers, \"I'd love\nto--and you let me know too, if you want to do anything else.\" Meanwhile\nif one of them is invited to something unusually tempting, there is no\nrudeness in telephoning her friend, \"Lucy has asked us to hear Galli-Curci\non Thursday!\" and the other says, \"Go, by all means! We can dine Tuesday\nnext week if you like, or come Sunday for supper.\" This privilege of\nintimacy can, however, be abused. An engagement, even with a member of\none's family, ought never to be broken twice within a brief period, or it\nbecomes apparent that the other's presence is more a fill-in of idle time\nthan a longed-for pleasure.\n\n\n=THE MENU=\n\nIt may be due to the war period, which accustomed everyone to going with\nvery little meat and to marked reduction in all food, or it may be, of\ncourse, merely vanity that is causing even grandparents to aspire to\nsvelte figures, but whatever the cause, people are putting much less food\non their tables than formerly. The very rich, living in the biggest houses\nwith the most imposing array of servants, sit down to three, or at most\nfour, courses when alone, or when intimate friends who are known to have\nmoderate appetites, are dining with them.\n\nUnder no circumstances would a private dinner, no matter how formal,\nconsist of more than:\n\n1. Hors d'oeuvre\n2. Soup\n3. Fish\n4. Entr\u00e9e\n5. Roast\n6. Salad\n7. Dessert\n8. Coffee\n\nThe menu for an informal dinner would leave out the entr\u00e9e, and possibly\neither the hors d'oeuvre or the soup.\n\nAs a matter of fact, the marked shortening of the menu is in informal\ndinners and at the home table of the well-to-do. Formal dinners have been\nas short as the above schedule for twenty-five years. A dinner interlarded\nwith a row of extra entr\u00e9es, Roman punch, and hot dessert is unknown\nexcept at a public dinner, or in the dining-room of a parvenu. About\nthirty-five years ago such dinners are said to have been in fashion!\n\n\n=THE BALANCED MENU=\n\nOne should always try to choose well-balanced dishes; an especially rich\ndish balanced by a simple one. Timbale with a very rich sauce of cream and\np\u00e2t\u00e9 de foie gras might perhaps be followed by French chops, broiled\nchicken or some other light, plain meat. An entr\u00e9e of about four broiled\nmushrooms on a small round of toast should be followed by boned capon or\nsaddle of mutton or spring lamb. It is equally bad to give your guests\nvery peculiar food unless as an extra dish. Some people love highly\nflavored Spanish or Indian dishes, but they are not appropriate for a\nformal dinner. At an informal dinner an Indian curry or Spanish enchillada\nfor one dish is delicious for those who like it, and if you have another\nsubstantial dish such as a plain roast which practically everyone is able\nto eat, those who don't like Indian food can make their dinner of the\nother course.\n\nIt is the same way with the Italian dishes. One hating garlic and onions\nwould be very wretched if onions were put in each and every course, and\nliberally. With Indian curry, a fatally bad selection would be a very\npeppery soup, such as croute au pot filled with pepper, and fish with\ngreen peppers, and then the curry, and then something casserole filled\nagain with peppers and onions and other throat-searing ingredients,\nfinishing with an endive salad. Yet more than one hostess has done exactly\nthis. Or equally bad is a dinner of flavorless white sauces from beginning\nto end; a creamed soup, boiled fish with white sauce, then vol au vent of\ncreamed sweetbreads, followed by breast of chicken and mashed potatoes and\ncauliflower, palm root salad, vanilla ice cream and lady-cake. Each thing\nis good in itself but dreadful in the monotony of its combination.\n\nAnother thing: although a dinner should not be long, neither should it\nconsist of samples, especially if set before men who are hungry!\n\nThe following menu might seem at first glance a good dinner, but it is one\nfrom which the average man would go home and forage ravenously in the ice\nbox:\n\nA canap\u00e9 (good, but merely an appetizer)\nClear soup (a dinner party helping, and no substance)\nSmelts (one apiece)\nIndividual croutards of sweetbreads (holding about a dessert-spoonful)\nBroiled squab, small potato croquette, and string beans\nLettuce salad, with about one small cracker apiece\nIce cream\n\nThe only thing that had any sustaining quality, barring the potato which\nwas not more than a mouthful, was the last, and very few men care to make\ntheir dinner of ice cream. If instead of squab there had been filet of\nbeef cut in generous slices, and the potato croquettes had been more\nnumerous, it would have been adequate. Or if there had been a thick cream\nsoup, and a fish with more substance--such as salmon or shad, or a baked\nthick fish of which he could have had a generous helping--the squab would\nhave been adequate also. But many women order trimmings rather than food;\nmen usually like food.\n\n\n=THE DINNER TABLE OF YESTERDAY=\n\nAll of us old enough to remember the beginning of this century can bring\nto mind the typical (and most fashionable) dinner table of that time.\nOccasionally it was oblong or rectangular, but its favorite shape was\nround, and a thick white damask cloth hung to the floor on all sides.\nOften as not there was a large lace centerpiece, and in the middle of it\nwas a floral mound of roses (like a funeral piece, exactly), usually red.\nThe four compotiers were much scrolled and embossed, and the four\ncandlesticks, also scrolled, but not to match, had shades of perforated\nsilver over red silk linings, like those in restaurants to-day. And there\nwas a gas droplight thickly petticoated with fringed red silk. The plates\nwere always heavily \"jewelled\" and hand painted, and enough forks and\nknives and spoons were arrayed at each \"place\" for a dozen courses. The\nglasses numbered at least six, and the entire table was laden with little\ndishes--and spoons! There were olives, radishes, celery and salted nuts in\nglass dishes; and about ten kinds of sugar-plums in ten different styles\nof ornate and bumpy silver dishes; and wherever a small space of\ntablecloth showed through, it was filled with either a big \"Apostle\" spoon\nor little Dutch ones criss-crossed.\n\nBread was always rolled in the napkin (and usually fell on the floor) and\nthe oysters were occasionally found already placed on the table when the\nguests came in to dinner! Loading a table to the utmost of its capacity\nwith useless implements which only in rarest instances had the least\nvalue, would seem to prove that quantity without quality must have been\nthought evidence of elegance and generous hospitality! And the astounding\npart of the bad taste epidemic was that few if any escaped. Even those who\nhad inherited colonial silver and glass and china of consummate beauty,\nsent it dust-gathering to the attic and cluttered their tables with stuffy\nand spurious lumber.\n\nBut to-day the classic has come into its own again! As though recovering\nfrom an illness, good taste is again demanding severe beauty of form and\nline, and banishing everything that is useless or superfluous. During the\nlast twenty years most of us have sent an army of lumpy dishes to the\nmelting-pot, and junky ornaments to the ash heap along with plush table\ncovers, upholstered mantel-boards and fern dishes! To-day we are going\nalmost to the extreme of bareness, and putting nothing on our tables not\nactually needed for use.\n\n\n=THE DINING-ROOM=\n\nIt is scarcely necessary to point out that the bigger and more ambitious\nthe house, the more perfect its appointments must be. If your house has a\ngreat Georgian dining-room, the table should be set with Georgian or an\n_earlier_ period English silver. Furthermore, in a \"great\" dining-room,\nall the silver should be real! \"Real\" meaning nothing so trifling as\n\"sterling,\" but genuine and important \"period\" pieces made by Eighteenth\nCentury silversmiths, such as de Lamerie or Crespell or Buck or Robertson,\nor perhaps one of their predecessors. Or if, like Mrs. Oldname, you live\nin an old Colonial house, you are perhaps also lucky enough to have\ninherited some genuine American pieces made by Daniel Rogers or Paul\nRevere! Or if you are an ardent admirer of Early Italian architecture and\nhave built yourself a Fifteenth Century stone-floored and frescoed or\ntapestry-hung dining room, you must set your long refectory table with a\n\"runner\" of old hand-linen and altar embroidery, or perhaps Thirteenth\nCentury damask and great cisterns or ewers and beakers in high-relief\nsilver and gold; or in Callazzioli or majolica, with great bowls of fruit\nand church candlesticks of gilt, and even follow as far as is practicable\nthe crude table implements of that time. It need not be pointed out that\nTwentieth Century appurtenances in a Thirteenth or Fifteenth Century room\nare anachronisms. But because the dining-table in the replica of a palace\n(whether English, Italian, Spanish or French) may be equipped with great\n\"standing cups\" and candelabra so heavy a man can scarcely lift one, it\ndoes not follow that all the rest of us who live in medium or small\nhouses, should attempt anything of the sort. Nothing could be more out of\nproportion--and therefore in worse taste. Nor is it necessary, in order to\nhave a table that is inviting, to set it with any of the completely\nexquisite things which all people of taste long for, but which are\npossessed (in quantity at least) only through wealth, inheritance, or\n\"collector's luck.\"\n\n\n=A PLEASING DINING-ROOM AT LIMITED COST=\n\nEnchanting dining-rooms and tables have been achieved with an outlay\namounting to comparatively nothing.\n\nThere is a dining-room in a certain small New York house that is quite as\ninviting as it is lacking in expensiveness. Its walls are rough-plastered\n\"French gray.\" Its table is an ordinary drop-leaf kitchen one painted a\nlight green that is almost gray; the chairs are wooden ones, somewhat on\nthe Windsor variety, but made of pine and painted like the table, and the\nside tables or consoles are made of a cheap round pine table which has\nbeen sawed in half, painted gray-green, and the legless sides fastened to\nthe walls. The glass curtains are point d'esprit net with a deep flounce\nat the bottom and outside curtains are (expensive) watermelon pink\nchangeable taffeta. There is a gilt mirror over a cream (absolutely plain)\nmantel and over each console a picture of a conventional bouquet of\nflowers in a flat frame the color of the furniture, with the watermelon\ncolor of the curtains predominating in a neutral tint background. The\ntable is set with a rather coarse cream-colored linen drawn-work\ncenterpiece (a tea cloth actually) big enough to cover all but three\ninches of table edge. In the middle of the table is a glass bowl with a\nwide turn-over rim, holding deep pink flowers (roses or tulips) standing\nupright in glass flower holders as though growing. In midwinter, when real\nflowers are too expensive, porcelain ones take their place--unless there\nis a lunch or dinner party. The compotiers are glass urns and the only\npieces of silver used are two tall Sheffield candelabra at night, without\nshades, the salts and peppers and the necessary spoons and forks. The\nknives are \"ivory\" handled.\n\n\n=SETTING THE TABLE=\n\nEverything on the table must be geometrically spaced; the centerpiece in\nthe actual center, the \"places\" at equal distances, and all utensils\nbalanced; beyond this one rule you may set your table as you choose.\n\nIf the tablecloth is of white damask, which for dinner is always good\nstyle, a \"felt\" must be put under it. (To say that it must be smooth and\nwhite, in other words perfectly laundered, is as beside the mark as to say\nthat faces and hands should be clean!) If the tablecloth has lace\ninsertions, it must on no account be put over satin or over a color. In a\nvery \"important\" dining-room and on a very large table, a cloth of plain\nand finest quality damask with no trimming other than a monogram (or\ncrest) embroidered on either side, is in better taste than one of linen\nwith elaborations of lace and embroidery. Damask is the old-fashioned but\nessentially conservative (and safely best style) tablecloth, especially,\nsuitable in a high-ceilinged room that is either English, French, or of no\nspecial period, in decoration. Lace tablecloths are better suited to an\nItalian room--especially if the table is a refectory one. Handkerchief\nlinen tablecloths embroidered and lace-inserted are also, strangely\nenough, suited to all quaint, low-ceilinged, old-fashioned but beautifully\nappointed rooms; the reason being that the lace cloth is put over a bare\ntable. The lace cloth must also go over a refectory table without felt or\nother lining.\n\nVery high-studded rooms (unless Italian) on the other hand, seem to need\nthe thickness of damask. To be sure, one does see in certain houses--at\nthe Gildings' for instance--an elaborate lace and embroidery tablecloth\nput on top of a plain one which in turn goes over a felt, but this\ncombination is always somewhat overpowering, whereas lace over a bare\ntable is light and fragile.\n\nAnother thing--very ornate, large, and arabesqued designs, no matter how\nmarvellous as examples of workmanship, inevitably produce a vulgar effect.\n\nAll needlework, whether to be used on the table or on a bed, must, in a\nbeautifully finished house, be fine rather than striking. Coarse linen,\ncoarse embroideries, all sorts of Russian drawn-work, Italian needlework\nor mosaic (but avoiding big scrolled patterns), are in perfect\nkeeping--and therefore in good taste--in a cottage, a bungalow or a house\nwhose furnishings are not too fine.\n\nBut whatever type of cloth is used, the middle crease must be put on so\nthat it is an absolutely straight and unwavering line down the exact\ncenter from head to foot. If it is an embroidered one, be sure the\nembroidery is \"right side out.\" Next goes the centerpiece which is always\nthe chief ornament. Usually this is an arrangement of flowers in either a\nbowl or a vase, but it can be any one of an almost unlimited variety of\nthings; flowers or fruit in any arrangement that taste and ingenuity can\ndevise; or an ornament in silver that needs no flowers, such as a covered\ncup; or an epergne, which, however, necessitates the use of fruit, flowers\nor candy. Mrs. Wellborn, for instance, whose heirlooms are better than her\nincome, rarely uses flowers, but has a wonderful old centerpiece that is\nornament enough in itself. The foundation is a mirror representing a lake,\nsurrounded by silver rocks and grass. At one side, jutting into the lake,\nis a knoll with a group of trees sheltering a stag and doe. The ornament\nis entirely of silver, almost twenty inches high, and about twenty inches\nin diameter across the \"lake.\"\n\nThe Normans have a full-rigged silver ship in the center of their table\nand at either end rather tall lanterns, Venetian really, but rather\nappropriate to the ship; and the salt cellars are very tall ones (about\nten inches high), of sea shells supported on the backs of dolphins.\n\nHowever, to go back to table setting: A cloth laid straight; then a\ncenterpiece put in the middle; then four candlesticks at the four corners,\nabout half-way between the center and the edge of the table, or two\ncandelabra at either end halfway between the places of the host and\nhostess and the centerpiece. Candles are used with or without shades.\nFashion at the moment, says \"without,\" which means that, in order to bring\nthe flame well above people's eyes, candlesticks or candelabra must be\nhigh and the candles as long as the proportion can stand. Longer candles\ncan be put in massive candlesticks than in fragile ones. But whether\nshaded or not, there are candles on all dinner tables always! The center\ndroplight has gone out entirely. Electroliers in candlesticks were never\ngood style, and kerosene lamps in candlesticks--horrible! Fashion says,\n\"Candles! preferably without shades, but shades if you insist, and few or\nmany--but candles!\"\n\nNext comes the setting of the places. (If it is an extension table, leaves\nhave, of course, been put in; or if it is stationary, guests have been\ninvited according to its size.) The distance between places at the table\nmust never be so short that guests have no elbow room, and that the\nservants can not pass the dishes properly; when the dining-room chairs are\nvery high backed and are placed so close as to be almost touching, it is\nimpossible for them not to risk spilling something over some one. On the\nother hand, to place people a yard or more apart so that conversation has\nto be shouted into the din made by everyone else's shouting, is equally\ntrying. About two feet from plate center to plate center is ideal. If the\nchairs have narrow and low backs, people can sit much closer together,\nespecially at a small round table, the curve of which leaves a spreading\nwedge of space between the chairs at the back even if the seats touch at\nthe front corners. But on the long straight sides of a rectangular table\nin a very large--and impressive--dining-room there should be at least a\nfoot of space between the chairs.\n\n\n=SETTING THE PLACES=\n\nThe necessary number of plates, with the pattern or initials right side\nup, are first put around the table at equal distances (spaced with a tape\nmeasure if the butler or waitress has not an accurate eye). Then on the\nleft of each plate, handle towards the edge of the table, and prongs up,\nis put the salad fork, the meat fork is put next, and then the fish fork.\nThe salad fork, which will usually be the third used, is thus laid\nnearest to the plate. If there is an entr\u00e9e, the fork for this course is\nplaced between the fish fork and that for the roast and the salad fork is\nleft to be brought in later. On the right of the plate, and nearest to it,\nis put the steel meat knife, then the silver fish knife, the edge of each\ntoward the plate. Then the soup spoon and then the oyster fork or grape\nfruit spoon. Additional forks and knives are put on the table during\ndinner.\n\nIn putting on the glasses, the water goblet is at the top and to the right\nof the knives, and the wine glasses are either grouped to the right of the\ngoblet, or in a straight line slanting down from the goblet obliquely\ntowards the right. (Butter plates are never put on a dinner table.) A\ndinner napkin folded square and flat is laid on each \"place\" plate; very\nfancy foldings are not in good taste, but if the napkin is very large, the\nsides are folded in so as to make a flattened roll a third the width of\nits height. (Bread should _not_ be put in the napkin--not nowadays.) The\nplace cards are usually put above the plate on the tablecloth, but some\npeople put them on top of the napkin because they are more easily read.\n\nWhen the places have been set, four silver dishes (or more on a very big\ntable), either bowl or basket or paten shaped, are put at the four\ncorners, between the candlesticks (or candelabra) and the centerpiece; or\nwherever there are four equally spaced vacancies on the table. These\ndishes, or compotiers, hold candy or fruit, chosen less for taste than for\ndecorative appearance.\n\nOn a very large table the four compotiers are filled with candy, and two\nor four larger silver dishes or baskets are filled with fruit and put on\nalternately with the candy dishes. Flowers are also often put in two or\nfour smaller vases, in addition to a larger and dominating one in the\ncenter.\n\nPeppers and salts should be put at every other place. For a dinner of\ntwelve there should be six salt cellars at least, if not six pepper pots.\n\nOlives and radishes are served from the side table, but salted nuts are\noften put on the dinner table either in two big silver dishes, or in small\nindividual ones.\n\n\n=HAVE SILVER THAT SHINES OR NONE=\n\nLots of people who would not dream of using a wrinkled tablecloth or\nchipped glass or china, seem perfectly blind to dirty silver--silver that\nis washed clean of food of course, but so dull that it looks like\njaundiced pewter.\n\nDon't put any silver on your table if you can't have it cleaned.\nInfinitely rather have every ornament of glass or china--and if knives and\nforks have crevices in the design of their handles that are hard to clean,\nbuy plain plated ones, or use tin! Anything is better than yellow-faced\ndirty-finger-nailed silver. The first thing to ask in engaging a waitress\nis, \"Can you clean silver?\" If she can't, she would better be something\nelse.\n\nOf course no waitress and no single-handed butler can keep silver the way\nit is kept in such houses as the Worldlys', nor is such perfection\nexpected. The silver polishing of perfection in huge houses is done by\nsuch an expert that no one can tell whether a fork has that moment been\nsent from the silversmiths or not. It is not merely polished until it is\nbright, but burnished so that it is new! Every piece of silver in certain\nof the great establishments, or in smaller ones that are run like a great\none, is never picked up by a servant except with a rouged chamois. No\npiece of silver is ever allowed by the slightest chance to touch another\npiece. Every piece is washed separately. The footman who gathers two or\nthree forks in a bunch will never do it a second time, and keep his place.\nIf the ring of a guest should happen to scratch a knife handle or a fork,\nthe silver-polisher may have to spend an entire day using his thumb or a\nsilver buffer, and rub and rub until no vestige of a scratch remains.\nPerfection such as this is attainable only in a great house where servants\nare specialists of super-efficiency; but in every perfectly run house,\nwhere service is not too limited, every piece of silver that is put on the\ntable, at every meal, is handled with a rouged chamois and given a quick\nwipe-off as it is laid on the dining table. No silver should ever be\npicked up in the fingers as that always leaves a mark.\n\nAnd the way \"moderate\" households, which are nevertheless perfectly run\nfor their size and type, have burnished silver, is by using not more than\nthey can have cleaned.\n\nIn view of the present high cost of living (including wages) and the\nconsequent difficulty, with a reduced number of servants, of keeping a\ngreat quantity of silver brilliant, even the most fashionable people are\nmore and more using only what is essential, and in occasional instances,\nare taking to china! People who are lucky enough to have well-stored\nattics these days are bringing treasures out of them.\n\nBut services of Swansea or Lowestoft or Spode, while easily cleaned, are\nequally easily broken, so that genuine Eighteenth Century pieces are more\napt to see a cabinet than a dinner table.\n\nBut the modern manufacturers are making enchanting \"sets\" that are\nreplicas of the old. These tea sets with cups and saucers to match and\nwith a silver kettle and tray, are seen almost as often as silver services\nin simple houses in the country, as well as in the small apartment in\ntown.\n\n\n=DON'TS IN TABLE SETTING!=\n\nDon't put ribbon trimmings on your table. Satin bands and bows have no\nmore place on a lady's table than have chop-house appurtenances. Pickle\njars, catsup bottles, toothpicks and crackers are not private-house table\nornaments. Crackers are passed with oyster stew and with salad, and any\none who wants \"relishes\" can have them in his own house (though they\ninsult the cook!). At all events, pickles and tomato sauces and other cold\nmeat condiments are never presented at table in a bottle, but are put in\nglass dishes with small serving spoons. Nothing is ever served from the\njar or bottle it comes in except certain kinds of cheese, Bar-le-Duc\npreserves (only sometimes) and wines. Pickles, jellies, jams, olives, are\nall put into small glass dishes.\n\nSaucers for vegetables are contrary to all etiquette. The only extra\nplates ever permitted are the bread and butter plates which are put on at\nbreakfast and lunch and supper above and to the left of the forks, but\n_never_ at dinner. The crescent-shaped salad plate, made to fit at the\nside of the place plate, is seen rarely in fashionable houses. When two\nplates are made necessary by the serving of game or broiled chicken or\nsquab, for which the plate should be very hot, at the same time as the\nsalad which is cold, the crescent-shaped plate is convenient in that it\ntakes little room.\n\nA correct and very good serving dish for a family of two, is the vegetable\ndish that has a partition dividing it into two or even three divisions, so\nthat a small quantity of two or three vegetables can be passed at the same\ntime.\n\nNapkin rings are unknown in fashionable houses outside of the nursery. But\nin large families where it is impossible to manage such a wash as three\nclean napkins a day entail, napkin rings are probably necessary. In most\nmoderately run houses, a napkin that is unrumpled and spotless after a\nmeal, is put aside and used again for breakfast; but to be given a napkin\nthat is not perfectly clean is a horrid thought. Perhaps though, the\nnecessity for napkin rings results in the achievement of the immaculate\nnapkin--which is quite a nice thought.\n\n\n=CORRECT SERVICE OF DINNER=\n\nWhether there are two at table or two hundred, plates are changed and\ncourses presented in precisely the same manner.\n\nFor faultless service, if there are many \"accompanied\" dishes, two\nservants are necessary to wait on as few as two persons. But two can also\nefficiently serve eight; or with unaccompanied dishes an expert servant\ncan manage eight alone, and with one assistant, he can perfectly manage\ntwelve.\n\nIn old-fashioned times people apparently did not mind waiting tranquilly\nthrough courses and between courses, even though meat grew cold long\nbefore the last of many vegetables was passed, and they waited endlessly\nwhile a slow talker and eater finished his topic and his food. But people\nof to-day do not like to wait an unnecessary second. The moment fish is\npassed them, they expect the cucumbers or sauce, or whatever should go\nwith the fish, to follow immediately. And when the first servant hands the\nmeat course, they consider that they should not be expected to wait a\nmoment for a second servant to hand the gravy or jelly or whatever goes\nwith the meat. No service is good in this day unless swift--and, of\ncourse, soundless.\n\nA late leader of Newport society who had a world-wide reputation for the\nbrilliancy of her entertainments, had an equally well-known reputation for\nrapidly served dinners. \"Twenty minutes is quite long enough to sit at\ntable--ever!\" is what she used to say, and what her household had to live\nup to. She had a footman to about every two guests and any one dining with\nher had to cling to the edge of his plate or it would be whisked away! One\nwho looked aside or \"let go\" for a second found his plate gone! That was\nextreme; but, even so, better than a snail-paced dinner!\n\n\n=THE DINNER HOUR=\n\nIn America the dinner hour is not a fixture, since it varies in various\nsections of the country. The ordinary New York hour when \"giving a dinner\"\nis eight o'clock, half past eight in Newport. In New York, when dining and\ngoing to the opera, one is usually asked for seven-fifteen, and for\nseven-thirty before going to a play. Otherwise only \"quiet\" people dine\nbefore eight. But invitations should, of course, be issued for whatever\nhour is customary in the place where the dinner is given.\n\n\n=THE BUTLER IN THE DINING-ROOM=\n\nWhen the dinner guests enter the dining-room, it is customary for the\nbutler to hold out the chair of the mistress of the house. This always\nseems a discourtesy to the guests. And an occasional hostess insists on\nhaving the chair of the guest of honor held by the butler instead of her\nown. If there are footmen enough, the chair of each lady is held for her;\notherwise the gentleman who takes her in to dinner helps her to be seated.\nOrdinarily where there are two servants, the head one holds the chair of\nthe hostess and the second, the chair on the right of the host. The\nhostess always seats herself as quickly as possible so that the butler may\nbe free to assist a guest to draw her chair up to the table.\n\nIn a big house the butler always stands throughout a meal back of the\nhostess' chair, except when giving one of the men under him a direction,\nor when pouring wine. He is not supposed to leave the dining-room himself\nor ever to handle a dish. In a smaller house where he has no assistant, he\nnaturally does everything himself; when he has a second man or\nparlor-maid, he passes the principal dishes and the assistant follows with\nthe accompanying dishes or vegetables.\n\nSo-called \"Russian\" service is the only one known in New York which merely\nmeans that nothing to eat is ever put on the table except ornamental\ndishes of fruit and candy. The meat is carved in the kitchen or pantry,\nvegetables are passed and returned to the side table. Only at breakfast or\npossibly at supper are dishes of food put on the table.\n\n\n=THE EVER-PRESENT PLATE=\n\nFrom the setting of the table until it is cleared for dessert, a plate\nmust remain at every cover. Under the first two courses there are always\ntwo plates. The plate on which oysters or hors d'oeuvres are served is put\non top of the place plate. At the end of the course the used plate is\nremoved, leaving the place plate. The soup plate is also put on top of\nthis same plate. But when the soup plate is removed, the underneath plate\nis removed with it, and a hot plate immediately exchanged for the two\ntaken away. The place plate merely becomes a hot fish plate, but it is\nthere just the same.\n\n\n_The Exchange Plate_\n\nIf the first course had been a canap\u00e9 or any cold dish that was offered in\nbulk instead of being brought on separate plates, it would have been eaten\non the place plate, and an exchange plate would have been necessary before\nthe soup could be served. That is, a clean plate would have been\nexchanged for the used one, and the soup plate then put on top of that.\nThe reason for it is that a plate with food on it can never be exchanged\nfor a plate that has had food on it; a clean one must come between.\n\nIf an entr\u00e9e served on individual plates follows the fish, clean plates\nare first exchanged for the used ones until the whole table is set with\nclean plates. Then the entr\u00e9e is put at each place in exchange for the\nclean plate. Although dishes are always presented at the left of the\nperson served, plates are removed and replaced at the right. Glasses are\npoured and additional knives placed at the right, but forks are put on as\nneeded from the left.\n\n\n_May the Plates for Two Persons Be Brought in Together?_\n\nThe only plates that can possibly be brought into the dining-room one in\neach hand are for the hors d'oeuvres, soup and dessert. The first two\nplates are placed on others which have not been removed, and the dessert\nplates need merely be put down on the tablecloth. But the plates of every\nother course have to be exchanged and therefore each individual service\nrequires two hands. Soup plates, two at a time, would better not be\nattempted by any but the expert and sure-handed, as it is in placing one\nplate, while holding the other aloft that the mishap of \"soup poured down\nsome one's back\" occurs! If only one plate of soup is brought in at a\ntime, that accident at least cannot happen. In the same way the spoon and\nfork on the dessert plate can easily fall off, unless it is held level.\n\"Two plates at a time\" therefore is not a question of etiquette, but of\nthe servant's skill.\n\n\n_Plate Removed When Fork Is Laid Down_\n\nOnce upon a time it was actually considered impolite to remove a single\nplate until the last guest at the table had finished eating! In other days\npeople evidently did not mind looking at their own dirty plates\nindefinitely, nor could they have minded sitting for hours at table. Good\nservice to-day requires the removal of each plate as soon as the fork is\nlaid upon it; so that by the time the last fork is put down, the entire\ntable is set with clean plates and is ready for the next course.\n\n\n=DOUBLE SERVICE AND THE ORDER OF TABLE PRECEDENCE=\n\nAt every well-ordered dinner, there should be a double service for ten or\ntwelve persons; that is, no hot dish should, if avoidable, be presented to\nmore than six, or nine at the outside. At a dinner of twelve, for\ninstance, two dishes each holding six portions, are garnished exactly\nalike and presented at opposite ends of the table. One to the lady on the\nright of the host, and the other to the lady at the opposite end of the\ntable. The services continue around to the right, but occasional butlers\ndirect that after serving the \"lady of honor\" on the right of the host,\nthe host is skipped and the dish presented to the lady on his left, after\nwhich the dish continues around the table to the left, to ladies and\ngentlemen as they come. In this event the second service starts opposite\nthe lady of honor and also skips the first gentleman, after which it goes\naround the table to the left, skips the lady of honor and ends with the\nhost. The first service when it reaches the other end of the table skips\nthe lady who was first served and ends with the gentleman who was skipped.\n\nIt is perhaps more polite to the ladies to give them preference, but it is\ncomplicated, and leaves another gentleman as well as the host, sitting\nbetween two ladies who are eating while he is apparently forgotten. The\nobject (which is to prevent the lady who is second in precedence from\nbeing served last) can be accomplished by beginning the first service from\nthe lady on the right of the host and continuing on the right 6 places;\nthe second service begins with the lady on the left of the host and\ncontinues on the left five places, and then comes back to the host. The\nbest way of all, perhaps, is to vary the \"honor\" by serving the entr\u00e9e and\nsalad courses first to the lady on the left instead of to the lady on the\nright and continue the service of these two courses to the left.\n\nA dinner of eighteen has sometimes two services, but if _very_ perfect,\nthree. Where there are three services they start with the lady of honor\nand the sixth from her on either side and continue to the right.\n\n\n=FILLING GLASSES=\n\nAs soon as the guests are seated and the first course put in front of\nthem, the butler goes from guest to guest on the right hand side of each,\nand asks \"Apollinaris or plain water!\" and fills the goblet accordingly.\nIn the same way he asks later before pouring wine: \"Cider, sir?\" \"Grape\nfruit cup, madam?\" Or in a house which has the remains of a cellar,\n\"Champagne?\" or \"Do you care for whiskey and soda, sir?\"\n\nBut the temperature and service of wines which used to be an essential\ndetail of every dinner have now no place at all. Whether people will offer\nfrapp\u00e9d cider or some other iced drink in the middle of dinner, and a\nwarmed something else to take the place of claret with the fish, remains\nto be seen. A water glass standing alone at each place makes such a meager\nand untrimmed looking table that most people put on at least two wine\nglasses, sherry and champagne, or claret and sherry, and pour something\npinkish or yellowish into them. A rather popular drink at present is an\nequal mixture of white grape-juice and ginger ale with mint leaves and\nmuch ice. Those few who still have cellars, serve wines exactly as they\nused to, white wine, claret, sherry and Burgundy warm, champagne ice cold;\nand after dinner, green mint poured over crushed ice in little glasses,\nand other liqueurs of room temperature. Whiskey is always poured at the\ntable over ice in a tall tumbler, each gentleman \"saying when\" by putting\nhis hand out. The glass is then filled with soda or Apollinaris.\n\nAs soon as soup is served the parlor-maid or a footman passes a dish or a\nbasket of dinner rolls. If rolls are not available, bread cut in about\ntwo-inch-thick slices, is cut cross-ways again in three. An old-fashioned\nsilver cake basket makes a perfect modern bread-basket. Or a small wicker\nbasket that is shallow and inconspicuous will do. A guest helps himself\nwith his fingers and lays the roll or bread on the tablecloth, always. No\nbread plates are ever on a table where there is no butter, and no butter\nis ever served at a dinner. Whenever there is no bread left at any one's\nplace at table, more should be passed. The glasses should also be kept\nfilled.\n\n\n=PRESENTING DISHES=\n\nDishes are presented held flat on the palm of the servant's right hand;\nevery hot one must have a napkin placed as a pad under it. An especially\nheavy meat platter can be steadied if necessary by holding the edge of the\nplatter with the left hand, the fingers protected from being burned by a\nsecond folded napkin.\n\nEach dish is supplied with whatever implements are needed for helping it;\na serving spoon (somewhat larger than an ordinary tablespoon) is put on\nall dishes and a fork of large size is added for fish, meat, salad and any\nvegetables or other dishes that are hard to help. String beans, braised\ncelery, spinach en branche, etc., need a fork and spoon. Asparagus has\nvarious special lifters and tongs, but most people use the ordinary spoon\nand fork, putting the spoon underneath and the fork, prongs down, to hold\nthe stalks on the spoon while being removed to the plate. Corn on the cob\nis taken with the fingers, but is _never_ served at a dinner party. A\ngalantine or mousse, as well as peas, mashed potatoes, rice, etc., are\noffered with a spoon only.\n\n\n=THE SERVING TABLE=\n\nThe serving table is an ordinary table placed in the corner of the\ndining-room near the door to the pantry, and behind a screen, so that it\nmay not be seen by the guests at table. In a small dining-room where space\nis limited, a set of shelves like a single bookcase is useful.\n\nThe serving table is a halfway station between the dinner table and the\npantry. It holds stacks of cold plates, extra forks and knives, and the\nfinger bowls and dessert plates. The latter are sometimes put out on the\nsideboard, if the serving table is small or too crowded.\n\nAt little informal dinners all dishes of food after being passed are left\non the serving table in case they are called upon for a second helping.\nBut at formal dinners, dishes are never passed twice, and are therefore\ntaken direct to the pantry after being passed.\n\n\n=CLEARING TABLE FOR DESSERT=\n\nAt dinner always, whether at a formal one, or whether a member of the\nfamily is alone, the salad plates, or the plates of whatever course\nprecedes dessert, are removed, leaving the table plateless. The salt\ncellars and pepper pots are taken off on the serving tray (without being\nput on any napkin or doily, as used to be the custom), and the crumbs are\nbrushed off each place at table with a folded napkin onto a tray held\nunder the table edge. A silver crumb scraper is still seen occasionally\nwhen the tablecloth is plain, but its hard edge is not suitable for\nembroidery and lace, and ruinous to a bare table, so that a napkin folded\nto about the size and thickness of an iron-holder is the crumb-scraper of\nto-day.\n\n\n=DESSERT=\n\nThe captious say \"dessert means the fruit and candy which come after the\nices.\" \"Ices\" is a misleading word too, because suggestive of the\nindividual \"ices\" which flourished at private dinners in the Victorian\nage, and still survive at public dinners, suppers at balls, and at wedding\nbreakfasts, but which are seen at not more than one private dinner in a\nthousand--if that.\n\nIn the present world of fashion the \"dessert\" is ice-cream, served in one\nmold; not ices (a lot of little frozen images). And the refusal to call\nthe \"sweets\" at the end of the dinner, which certainly include ice cream\nand cake, \"dessert,\" is at least not the interpretation of either good\nusage or good society. In France, where the word \"dessert\" originated,\n\"ices\" were set apart from dessert merely because French chefs delight in\ndesignating each item of a meal as a separate course. But chefs and\ncook-books notwithstanding, dessert means everything sweet that comes at\nthe end of a meal. And the great American dessert is ice cream--or pie.\nPie, however, is not a \"company\" dessert. Ice cream on the other hand is\nthe inevitable conclusion of a formal dinner. The fact that the spoon\nwhich is double the size of a teaspoon is known as nothing but a dessert\nspoon, is offered in further proof that \"dessert\" is \"spoon\" and not\n\"finger\" food!\n\n\n_Dessert Service_\n\nThere are two, almost equally used, methods of serving dessert. The first\nor \"hotel method,\" also seen in many fashionable private houses, is to put\non a china plate for ice cream or a first course, and the finger bowl on a\nplate by itself, afterwards. In the \"private house\" service, the entire\ndessert paraphernalia is put on at once.\n\nIn detail: In the two-course, or hotel, service, the \"dessert\" plate is of\nchina, or if of glass, it must have a china one under it. A china dessert\nplate is just a fairly deep medium sized plate and it is always put on the\ntable with a \"dessert\" spoon and fork on it. After the inevitable ice\ncream has been eaten, a fruit plate with a finger bowl on it, is put on in\nexchange. A doily goes under the finger bowl, and a fruit knife and fork\non either side.\n\nIn the single course, or private house, service, the ice cream plate is of\nglass and belongs under the finger bowl which it matches. The glass plate\nand finger bowl in turn are put on the fruit plate with a doily between,\nand the dessert spoon and fork go on either side of the finger bowl\n(instead of the fruit knife and fork). This arrangement of plates is seen\nin such houses as the Worldlys' and the Oldnames', and in fact in most\nvery well done houses. The finger bowls and glass plates that match make a\nprettier service than the finger bowl on a china plate by itself; also it\neliminates a change--but not a removal--of plates. In this service, a\nguest lifts the finger bowl off and eats his ice cream on the glass plate,\nafter which the glass plate is removed and the china one is left for\nfruit.\n\nSome people think this service confusing because an occasional guest, in\nlifting off the finger bowl, lifts the glass plate too, and eats his\ndessert on his china plate. It is merely necessary for the servants to\nnotice at which place the china plate has been used and to bring a clean\none; otherwise a \"cover\" is left with a glass plate or a bare tablecloth\nfor fruit. Also any one taking fruit must have a fruit knife and fork\nbrought to him. Fruit is passed immediately after ice-cream; and\nchocolates, conserves, or whatever the decorative sweets may be, are\npassed last.\n\nThis single service may sound as though it were more complicated than the\ntwo-course service, but actually it is less. Few people use the wrong\nplate and usually the ice-cream plates having others under them can be\ntaken away two at a time. Furthermore, scarcely any one takes fruit, so\nthat the extra knives and forks are few, if any.\n\nBefore finishing dessert, it may be as well to add in detail, that the\nfinger bowl doiley is about five or six inches in diameter; it may be\nround or square, and of the finest and sheerest needlework that can be\nfound (or afforded). It must always be cream or white. Colored\nembroideries look well sometimes on a country lunch table but not at\ndinner. No matter where it is used, the finger bowl is less than half\nfilled with cold water; and at dinner parties, a few violets, sweet peas,\nor occasionally a gardenia, is put in it. (A slice of lemon is never seen\noutside of a chop-house where eating with the fingers may necessitate the\nlemon in removing grease. Pretty thought!)\n\nBlack coffee is never served at a fashionable dinner table, but is brought\nafterwards with cigarettes and liqueurs into the drawing-room for the\nladies, and with cigars, cigarettes and liqueurs into the smoking room for\nthe gentlemen.\n\nIf there is no smoking-room, coffee and cigars are brought to the table\nfor the gentlemen after the ladies have gone into the drawing-room.\n\n\n=PLACE CARDS=\n\nThe place cards are usually about an inch and a half high by two inches\nlong, sometimes slightly larger. People of old family have their crest\nembossed in plain white; occasionally an elderly hostess, following a\nlifelong custom, has her husband's crest stamped in gold. Nothing other\nthan a crest must ever be engraved on a place card; and usually they are\nplain, even in the houses of old families.\n\nYears ago \"hand-painted\" place cards are said to have been in fashion. But\nexcepting on such occasions as a Christmas or a birthday dinner, they are\nnever seen in private houses to-day.\n\n\n=MENU CARDS=\n\nSmall, standing porcelain slates, on which the menu is written, are seen\non occasional dinner tables. Most often there is only one which is placed\nin front of the host; but sometimes there is one between every two guests.\n\n\n=SEATING THE TABLE=\n\nAs has already been observed, the most practical way to seat the table is\nto write the names on individual cards first, and then \"place\" them as\nthough playing solitaire; the guest of honor on the host's right, the\nsecond lady in rank on his left; the most distinguished or oldest\ngentleman on the right of the hostess, and the other guests filled in\nbetween.\n\n\n=WHO IS THE GUEST OF HONOR?=\n\nThe guest of honor is the oldest lady present, or a stranger whom you wish\nfor some reason to honor. A bride at her first dinner in your house, after\nher return from her honeymoon, takes, if you choose to have her,\nprecedence over older people. Or if a younger woman has been long away\nshe, in this instance of welcoming her home, takes precedence over her\nelders. The guest of honor is always led in to dinner by the host and\nplaced on his right, the second in importance sits on his left and is\ntaken in to dinner by the gentleman on whose right she sits. The hostess\nis always the last to go into the dining-room at a formal dinner.\n\n\n=THE ENVELOPES FOR THE GENTLEMEN=\n\nIn an envelope addressed to each gentleman is put a card on which is\nwritten the name of the lady he is to take down to dinner. This card just\nfits in the envelope, which is an inch or slightly less high and about two\ninches long. When the envelopes are addressed and filled, they are\narranged in two neat rows on a silver tray and put in the front hall. The\ntray is presented to each gentleman just before he goes into the\ndrawing-room, on his arrival.\n\n\n=THE TABLE DIAGRAM=\n\nA frame made of leather, round or rectangular, with small openings at\nregular intervals around the edge in which names written on cards can be\nslipped, shows the seating of the table at a glance. In a frame holding\ntwenty-four cards, twelve guests would be indicated by leaving every other\ncard place blank, or for eight, only one in three is filled. This diagram\nis shown to each gentleman upon his arrival, so that he can see who is\ncoming for dinner and where he himself is placed. At a dinner of ten or\nless this diagram is especially convenient as \"envelopes\" are used only at\nformal dinners of twelve and over.\n\n\n=WHEN THE HOSTESS SITS AT THE SIDE=\n\nWhen the number of guests is a multiple of four, the host and hostess\nnever sit opposite each other. It would bring two ladies and two gentlemen\ntogether if they did. At a table which seats two together at each end, the\nfact that the host is opposite a gentleman and the hostess opposite a lady\nis not noticeable; nor is it ever noticeable at a round table. But at a\nnarrow table which has room for only one at the end, the hostess\ninvariably sits in the seat next to that which is properly her own,\nputting in her place a gentleman at the end. The host usually keeps his\nseat rather than the hostess because the seat of honor is on his right;\nand in the etiquette governing dinners, the host and not the hostess is\nthe more important personage!\n\nWhen there are only four, they keep their own places, otherwise the host\nand hostess would sit next to each other. At a dinner of eight, twelve,\nsixteen, twenty, etc., the host keeps his place, but at supper for eight\nor twelve, the hostess keeps _her_ place and the host moves a place to the\nright or left because the hostess at supper pours coffee or chocolate. And\nalthough the host keeps his seat at a formal dinner in honor of the lady\nhe takes in, at a little dinner of eight, where there is no guest of\nhonor, the host does not necessarily keep his seat at the expense of his\nwife unless he carves, in which case he must have the end place; just as\nat supper she has the end place in order to pour.\n\n\n=SIDEWALK, HALL, AND DRESSING ROOMS=\n\nOne can be pretty sure on seeing a red velvet carpet spread down the steps\nof a house (or up! since there are so many sunken American basement\nentrances) that there are people for dinner. The carpet is kept rolled, or\nturned under near the foot (or top) of the steps until a few minutes\nbefore the dinner hour when it is spread across the width of the pavement\nby the chauffeur or whoever is on duty on the sidewalk. Very big or formal\ndinners often have an awning, especially at a house where there is much\nentertaining and which has an awning of its own; but at an ordinary house,\nfor a dinner of twelve or so, the man on the pavement must, if it is\nraining, shelter each arriving guest under his coachman's umbrella from\ncarriage to door. If it does not rain, he merely opens the doors of\nvehicles. Checks are never given at dinners, no matter how big; every\nmotor is called by address at the end of the evening. The Worldly car is\nnot shouted for as \"Worldly!\" but \"xox Fifth Avenue!\" The typical coachman\nof another day used to tell you \"carriages are ordered for ten-fifteen.\"\nCarriages were nearly always ordered for that hour, though with slow and\nlong dinners no one ever actually left until the horses had exercised for\nat least an hour! But the chauffeur of to-day opens the door in\nsilence--unless there is to be a concert or amateur theatricals, when he,\nlike the coachman says, \"Motors are ordered for twelve o'clock,\" or\nwhatever hour he is told to say.\n\nIn this day of telephone and indefinite bridge games, many people prefer\nto have their cars telephoned for, when they are ready to go home. Those\nwho do not play bridge leave an eight o'clock dinner about half past ten,\nor at least order their cars for that hour.\n\nIn all modern houses of size there are two rooms on the entrance floor,\nbuilt sometimes as dressing-rooms and nothing else, but more often they\nare small reception rooms, each with a lavatory off of it. In the one\ngiven to the ladies, there is always a dressing-table with toilet\nappointments on it, and the lady's maid should be on duty to give whatever\nservice may be required; when there is no dressing-room on the ground\nfloor, the back of the hall is arranged with coat-hangers and an\nimprovised dressing-table for the ladies, since modern people--in New York\nat least--never go up-stairs to a bedroom if they can help it. In fact,\nnine ladies out of ten drop their evening cloaks at the front door,\nhanding them to the servant on duty, and go at once without more ado to\nthe drawing-room. A lady arriving in her own closed car can't be very much\nblown about, in a completely air tight compartment and in two or three\nminutes of time!\n\nGentlemen also leave their hats and coats in the front part of the hail. A\nservant presents to each a tray of envelopes, and if there is one, the\ntable diagram. Envelopes are not really necessary when there is a table\ndiagram, since every gentleman knows that he \"takes in\" the lady placed on\nhis right! But at very big dinners in New York or Washington, where many\npeople are sure to be strangers to one another, an absent-minded gentleman\nmight better, perhaps, have his partner's name safely in his pocket.\n\n\n=ANNOUNCING GUESTS=\n\nA gentleman always falls behind his wife in entering the drawing-room. If\nthe butler knows the guests, he merely announces the wife's name first and\nthen the husband's. If he does not know them by sight he asks whichever is\nnearest to him, \"What name, please?\" And whichever one is asked, answers:\n\"Mr. and Mrs. Lake.\"\n\nThe butler then precedes the guests a few steps into the room where the\nhostess is stationed, and standing aside says in a low tone but very\ndistinctly: \"Mrs. Lake,\" a pause and then, \"Mr. Lake.\" Married people are\nusually announced separately as above, but occasionally people have their\nguests announced \"Mr. and Mrs. ----.\"\n\n\n=ANNOUNCING PERSONS OF RANK=\n\nAll men of high executive rank are not alone announced first, but take\nprecedence of their wives in entering the room. The President of the\nUnited States is announced simply, \"The President and Mrs. Harding.\" His\ntitle needs no qualifying appendage, since he and he solely, is _the_\nPresident. He enters first, and alone, of course; and then Mrs. Harding\nfollows. The same form precisely is used for \"The Vice-President and Mrs.\nCoolidge.\" A governor is sometimes in courtesy called \"Excellency\" but the\ncorrect announcement would be \"the Governor of New Jersey and Mrs.\nEdwards.\" He enters the room and Mrs. Edwards follows. \"The Mayor and Mrs.\nThompson\" observe the same etiquette; or in a city other than his own he\nwould be announced \"The Mayor of Chicago and Mrs. Thompson.\"\n\nOther announcements are \"The Chief Justice and Mrs. Taft,\" \"The Secretary\nof State and Mrs. Hughes.\" \"Senator and Mrs. Washington,\" but in this case\nthe latter enters the room first, because his office is not executive.\n\nAccording to diplomatic etiquette an Ambassador and his wife should be\nannounced, \"Their Excellencies the Ambassador and Ambassadress of Great\nBritain.\" The Ambassador enters the room first. A Minister\nPlenipotentiary is announced \"The Minister of Sweden.\" He enters a moment\nlater and \"Mrs. Ogren\" follows. But a First Secretary and his wife are\nannounced, if they have a title of their own, \"Count and Countess\nEuropean,\" or \"Mr. and Mrs. American.\"\n\nThe President, the Vice-President, the Governor of a State, the Mayor of a\ncity, the Ambassador of a foreign Power--in other words, all\nexecutives--take precedence over their wives and enter rooms and vehicles\nfirst. But Senators, Representatives, Secretaries of legations and all\nother officials who are not executive, allow their wives to precede them,\njust as they would if they were private individuals.\n\nForeigners who have hereditary titles are announced by them: \"The Duke and\nDuchess of Overthere.\" \"The Marquis and Marchioness of Landsend,\" or \"Sir\nEdward and Lady Blank,\" etc. Titles are invariably translated into\nEnglish, \"Count and Countess Lorraine,\" not \"M. le Comte et Mme. la\nComtesse Lorraine.\"\n\n\n=HOW A HOSTESS RECEIVES AT A FORMAL DINNER=\n\nOn all occasions of formality, at a dinner as well as at a ball, the\nhostess stands near the door of her drawing-room, and as guests are\nannounced, she greets them with a smile and a handshake and says something\npleasant to each. What she says is nothing very important, charm of\nexpression and of manner can often wordlessly express a far more gracious\nwelcome than the most elaborate phrases (which as a matter of fact should\nbe studiously avoided). Unless a woman's loveliness springs from\ngenerosity of heart and sympathy, her manners, no matter how perfectly\npractised, are nothing but cosmetics applied to hide a want of inner\nbeauty; precisely as rouge and powder are applied in the hope of hiding\nthe lack of a beautiful skin. One device is about as successful as the\nother; quite pleasing unless brought into comparison with the real.\n\nMrs. Oldname, for instance, usually welcomes you with some such sentences\nas, \"I am very glad to see you\" or \"I am so glad you could come!\" Or if it\nis raining, she very likely tells you that you were very unselfish to\ncome out in the storm. But no matter what she says or whether anything at\nall, she takes your hand with a firm pressure and her smile is really a\n_smile_ of welcome, not a mechanical exercise of the facial muscles. She\ngives you always--even if only for the moment--her complete attention; and\nyou go into her drawing-room with a distinct feeling that you are under\nthe roof, not of a mere acquaintance, but of a friend. Mr. Oldname who\nstands never very far from his wife, always comes forward and, grasping\nyour hand, accentuates his wife's more subtle but no less vivid welcome.\nAnd either you join a friend standing near, or he presents you, if you are\na man, to a lady; or if you are a lady, he presents a man to you.\n\nSome hostesses, especially those of the Lion-Hunting and the\nNew-to-Best-Society variety are much given to explanations, and love to\nsay \"Mrs. Jones, I want you to meet Mrs. Smith. Mrs. Smith is the author\nof 'Dragged from the Depths,' a most enlightening work of psychic\ninsight.\" Or to a good-looking woman, \"I am putting you next to the\nAssyrian Ambassador--I want him to carry back a flattering impression of\nAmerican women!\"\n\nBut people of good breeding do not over-exploit their distinguished guests\nwith embarrassing hyperbole, or make personal remarks. Both are in worst\npossible taste. Do not understand by this that explanations can not be\nmade; it is only that they must not be embarrassingly made to their faces.\nNor must a \"specialist's\" subject be forced upon him, like a pair of\nmanacles, by any exploiting hostess who has captured him. Mrs. Oldname\nmight perhaps, in order to assist conversation for an interesting but\nreticent person, tell a lady just before going in to dinner, \"Mr. Traveler\nwho is sitting next to you at the table, has just come back from two years\nalone with the cannibals.\" This is not to exploit her \"Traveled Lion\" but\nto give his neighbor a starting point for conversation at table. And\nalthough personal remarks are never good form, it would be permissible for\nan older lady in welcoming a very young one, especially a d\u00e9butante or a\nbride, to say, \"How lovely you look, Mary dear, and what an adorable\ndress you have on!\"\n\nBut to say to an older lady, \"That is a very handsome string of pearls you\nare wearing,\" would be objectionable.\n\n\n=THE DUTY OF THE HOST=\n\nThe host stands fairly near his wife so that if any guest seems to be\nunknown to all of the others, he can present him to some one. At formal\ndinners introductions are never general and people do not as a rule speak\nto strangers, except those next to them at table or in the drawing-room\nafter dinner. The host therefore makes a few introductions if necessary.\nBefore dinner, since the hostess is standing (and no gentleman may\ntherefore sit down) and as it is awkward for a lady who is sitting, to\ntalk with a gentleman who is standing, the ladies usually also stand until\ndinner is announced.\n\n\n=WHEN DINNER IS ANNOUNCED=\n\nIt is the duty of the butler to \"count heads\" so that he may know when the\ncompany has arrived. As soon as he has announced the last person, he\nnotifies the cook. The cook being ready, the butler, having glanced into\nthe dining-room to see that windows have been closed and the candles on\nthe table lighted, enters the drawing-room, approaches the hostess, bows,\nand says quietly, \"Dinner is served.\"\n\nThe host offers his arm to the lady of honor and leads the way to the\ndining-room. All the other gentlemen offer their arms to the ladies\nappointed to them, and follow the host, in an orderly procession, two and\ntwo; the only order of precedence is that the host and his partner lead,\nwhile the hostess and her partner come last. At all formal dinners, place\ncards being on the table, the hostess does not direct people where to sit.\nIf there was no table diagram in the hall, the butler, standing just\nwithin the dining-room door, tells each gentleman as he approaches \"Right\"\nor \"Left.\"\n\n\"R\" or \"L\" is occasionally written on the lady's name card in the\nenvelopes given to the gentlemen, or if it is such a big dinner that there\nare many separate tables, the tables are numbered with standing placards\n(as at a public dinner) and the table number written on each lady's name\ncard.\n\n\n=THE MANNERS OF A HOSTESS=\n\nFirst of all, a hostess must show each of her guests equal and impartial\nattention. Also, although engrossed in the person she is talking to, she\nmust be able to notice anything amiss that may occur. The more competent\nher servants, the less she need be aware of details herself, but the\nhostess giving a formal dinner with uncertain dining-room efficiency has a\nfar from smooth path before her. No matter what happens, if all the china\nin the pantry falls with a crash, she must not appear to have heard it. No\nmatter what goes wrong she must cover it as best she may, and at the same\ntime cover the fact that she is covering it. To give hectic directions,\nmerely accentuates the awkwardness. If a dish appears that is\nunpresentable, she as quietly as possible orders the next one to be\nbrought in. If a guest knocks over a glass and breaks it, even though the\nglass be a piece of genuine Steigel, her only concern must seemingly be\nthat her guest's place has been made uncomfortable. She says, \"I am so\nsorry, but I will have it fixed at once!\" The broken glass is _nothing!_\nAnd she has a fresh glass brought (even though it doesn't match) and\ndismisses all thought of the matter.\n\nBoth the host and hostess must keep the conversation going, if it lags,\nbut this is not as definitely their duty at a formal, as at an informal\ndinner It is at the small dinner that the skilful hostess has need of what\nThackeray calls the \"showman\" quality. She brings each guest forward in\nturn to the center of the stage. In a lull in the conversation she says\nbeguilingly to a clever but shy man, \"John, what was that story you told\nme----\" and then she repeats briefly an introduction to a topic in which\n\"John\" particularly shines. Or later on, she begins a narrative and\nbreaks off suddenly, turning to some one else, \"_You_ tell them!\"\n\nThese examples are rather bald, and overemphasize the method in order to\nmake it clear. Practise and the knowledge of human nature, or of the\nparticular temperament with which she is trying to deal, can alone tell\nher when she may lead or provoke this or that one to being at his best, to\nhis own satisfaction as well as that of the others who may be present. Her\nown character and sympathy are the only real \"showman\" assets, since no\none \"shows\" to advantage except in a congenial environment.\n\n\n=THE LATE GUEST=\n\nA polite hostess waits twenty minutes after the dinner hour, and then\norders dinner served. To wait more than twenty minutes, or actually\nfifteen after those who took the allowable five minutes grace, would be\nshowing lack of consideration to many for the sake of one. When the late\nguest finally enters the dining-room, the hostess rises, shakes hands with\nher, but does not leave her place at table. She doesn't rise for a\ngentleman. It is the guest who must go up to the hostess and apologize for\nbeing late. The hostess must never take the guest to task, but should say\nsomething polite and conciliatory such as, \"I was sure you would not want\nus to wait dinner!\" The newcomer is usually served with dinner from the\nbeginning unless she is considerate enough to say to the butler, \"Just let\nme begin with this course.\"\n\nOld Mrs. Toplofty's manners to late guests are an exception: on the last\nstroke of eight o'clock in winter and half after eight in Newport, dinner\nis announced. She waits for no one! Furthermore, a guest arriving after a\ncourse has been served, does not have to protest against disarranging the\norder of dinner since the rule of the house is that a course which has\npassed a chair is not to be returned. A guest missing his \"turn\" misses\nthat course. The result is that everyone dining with Mrs. Toplofty arrives\non the stroke of the dinner hour; which is also rather necessary, as she\nis one of those who like the service to be rushed through at top speed,\nand anyone arriving half an hour late would find dinner over.\n\nIt would be excellent discipline if there were more hostesses like her,\nbut no young woman could be so autocratic and few older ones care (or\ndare) to be. Nothing shows selfish want of consideration more than being\nhabitually late for dinner. Not only are others, who were themselves\nconsiderate, kept waiting, but dinner is dried and ruined for everyone\nelse through the fault of the tardy one. And though expert cooks know how\nto keep food from becoming uneatable, no food can be so good as at the\nmoment for which it is prepared, and the habitually late guest should be\nmade to realize how unfairly she is meeting her hostess' generosity by\ndestroying for every one the hospitality which she was invited to share.\n\nOn the other hand, before a formal dinner, it is the duty of the hostess\nto be dressed and in her drawing-room fifteen, or ten minutes at least,\nbefore the hour set for dinner. For a very informal dinner it is not\nimportant to be ready ahead of time, but even then a late hostess is an\ninconsiderate one.\n\n\n=ETIQUETTE OF GLOVES AND NAPKIN=\n\nLadies always wear gloves to formal dinners and take them off at table.\nEntirely off. It is hideous to leave them on the arm, merely turning back\nthe hands. Both gloves and fan are supposed to be laid across the lap, and\none is supposed to lay the napkin folded once in half across the lap too,\non top of the gloves and fan, and all three are supposed to stay in place\non a slippery satin skirt on a little lap, that more often than not slants\ndownward.\n\nIt is all very well for etiquette to say \"They stay there,\" but every\nwoman knows they don't! And this is quite a nice question: If you obey\netiquette and lay the napkin on top of the fan and gloves loosely across\nyour satin-covered knees, it will depend merely upon the heaviness and\nposition of the fan's handle whether the avalanche starts right, left or\nforward, onto the floor. There is just _one_ way to keep these four\narticles (including the lap as one) from disintegrating, which is to put\nthe napkin cornerwise across your knees and tuck the two side corners\nunder like a lap robe, with the gloves and the fan tied in place as it\nwere. This ought not to be put in a book of etiquette, which should say\nyou must do nothing of the kind, but it is either do that or have the\ngentleman next you groping under the table at the end of the meal; and it\nis impossible to imagine that etiquette should wish to conserve the\npicture of \"gentlemen on all fours\" as the concluding ceremonial at\ndinners.\n\n\n=THE TURNING OF THE TABLE=\n\nThe turning of the table is accomplished by the hostess, who merely turns\nfrom the gentleman (on her left probably) with whom she has been talking\nthrough the soup and the fish course, to the one on her right. As she\nturns, the lady to whom the \"right\" gentleman has been talking, turns to\nthe gentleman further on, and in a moment everyone at table is talking to\na new neighbor. Sometimes a single couple who have become very much\nengrossed, refuse to change partners and the whole table is blocked;\nleaving one lady and one gentleman on either side of the block, staring\nalone at their plates. At this point the hostess has to come to the rescue\nby attracting the blocking lady's attention and saying, \"Sally, you cannot\ntalk to Professor Bugge any longer! Mr. Smith has been trying his best to\nattract your attention.\"\n\n\"Sally\" being in this way brought awake, is obliged to pay attention to\nMr. Smith, and Professor Bugge, little as he may feel inclined, must turn\nhis attention to the other side. To persist in carrying on their own\nconversation at the expense of others, would be inexcusably rude, not only\nto their hostess but to every one present.\n\nAt a dinner not long ago, Mr. Kindhart sitting next to Mrs. Wellborn and\nleft to himself because of the assiduity of the lady's farther partner,\nslid his own name-card across and in front of her, to bring her attention\nto the fact that it was \"his turn.\"\n\n\n=ENEMIES MUST BURY HATCHETS=\n\nOne inexorable rule of etiquette is that you must talk to your next door\nneighbor at a dinner table. You _must_, that is all there is about it!\n\nEven if you are placed next to some one with whom you have had a bitter\nquarrel, consideration for your hostess, who would be distressed if she\nknew you had been put in a disagreeable place, and further consideration\nfor the rest of the table which is otherwise \"blocked,\" exacts that you\ngive no outward sign of your repugnance and that you make a pretence at\nleast for a little while, of talking together.\n\nAt dinner once, Mrs. Toplofty, finding herself next to a man she quite\nopenly despised, said to him with apparent placidity, \"I shall not talk to\nyou--because I don't care to. But for the sake of my hostess I shall say\nmy multiplication tables. Twice one are two, twice two are four ----\" and she\ncontinued on through the tables, making him alternate them with her. As\nsoon as she politely could she turned again to her other companion.\n\n\n=MANNERS AT TABLE=\n\nIt used to be an offense, and it still is considered impolite, to refuse\ndishes at the table, because your refusal implies that you do not like\nwhat is offered you. If this is true, you should be doubly careful to take\nat least a little on your plate and make a pretence of eating some of it,\nsince to refuse course after course can not fail to distress your hostess.\nIf you are \"on a diet\" and accepted the invitation with that stipulation,\nyour not eating is excusable; but even then to sit with an empty plate in\nfront of you throughout a meal makes you a seemingly reproachful table\ncompanion for those of good appetite sitting next to you.\n\n\n=ATTACKING A COMPLICATED DISH=\n\nWhen a dinner has been prepared by a chef who prides himself on being a\ndecorative artist, the guest of honor and whoever else may be the first to\nbe served have quite a problem to know which part of an intricate\nstructure is to be eaten, and which part is scenic effect!\n\nThe main portion is generally clear enough; the uncertainty is in whether\nthe flowers are eatable vegetables and whether the things that look like\nducks are potatoes, or trimming. If there are six or more, the chances are\nthey are edible, and that one or two of a kind are embellishments only.\nRings around food are nearly always to be eaten; platforms under food\nseldom, if ever, are. Anything that looks like pastry is to be eaten; and\nanything divided into separate units should be taken on your plate\ncomplete. You should not try to cut a section from anything that has\nalready been divided into portions in the kitchen. Aspics and desserts\nare, it must be said, occasionally Chinese puzzles, but if you do help\nyourself to part of the decoration, no great harm is done.\n\nDishes are _never_ passed from hand to hand at a dinner, not even at the\nsmallest and most informal one. Sometimes people pass salted nuts to each\nother, or an extra sweet from a dish near by, but not circling the table.\n\n\n=LEAVING THE TABLE=\n\nAt the end of dinner, when the last dish of chocolates has been passed and\nthe hostess sees that no one is any longer eating, she looks across the\ntable, and catching the eye of one of the ladies, slowly stands up. The\none who happens to be observing also stands up, and in a moment everyone\nis standing. The gentlemen offer their arms to their partners and conduct\nthem back to the drawing-room or the library or wherever they are to sit\nduring the rest of the evening.\n\nEach gentleman then slightly bows, takes leave of his partner, and\nadjourns with the other gentlemen to the smoking-room, where after-dinner\ncoffee, liqueurs, cigars and cigarettes are passed, and they all sit where\nthey like and with whom they like, and talk.\n\nIt is perfectly correct for a gentleman to talk to any other who happens\nto be sitting near him, whether he knows him or not. The host on\noccasions--but it is rarely necessary--starts the conversation if most of\nthe guests are inclined to keep silent, by drawing this one or that into\ndiscussion of a general topic that everyone is likely to take part in. At\nthe end of twenty minutes or so, he must take the opportunity of the first\nlull in the conversation to suggest that they join the ladies in the\ndrawing-room.\n\nIn a house where there is no smoking-room, the gentlemen do not conduct\nthe ladies to the drawing-room, but stay where they are (the ladies\nleaving alone) and have their coffee, cigars, liqueurs and conversation\nsitting around the table.\n\nIn the drawing-room, meanwhile, the ladies are having coffee, cigarettes,\nand liqueurs passed to them. There is not a modern New York hostess,\nscarcely even an old-fashioned one, who does not have cigarettes passed\nafter dinner.\n\nAt a dinner of ten or twelve, the five or six ladies are apt to sit in one\ngroup, or possibly two sit by themselves, and three of four together, but\nat a very large dinner they inevitably fall into groups of four or five or\nso each. In any case, the hostess must see that no one is left to sit\nalone. If one of her guests is a stranger to the others, the hostess draws\na chair near one of the groups and offering it to her single guest sits\nbeside her. After a while when this particular guest has at least joined\nthe outskirts of the conversation of the group, the hostess leaves her and\njoins another group where perhaps she sits beside some one else who has\nbeen somewhat left out. When there is no one who needs any especial\nattention, the hostess nevertheless sits for a time with each of the\ndifferent groups in order to spend at least a part of the evening with all\nof her guests.\n\n\n=WHEN THE GENTLEMEN RETURN TO THE DRAWING-ROOM=\n\nWhen the gentlemen return to the drawing-room, if there is a particular\nlady that one of them wants to talk to, he naturally goes directly to\nwhere she is, and sits down beside her. If, however, she is securely\nwedged in between two other ladies, he must ask her to join him elsewhere.\nSupposing Mr. Jones, for instance, wants to talk to Mrs. Bobo Gilding, who\nis sitting between Mrs. Stranger and Miss Stiffleigh: Mr. Jones saunters\nup to Mrs. Gilding--he must not look too eager or seem too directly to\nprefer her to the two who are flanking her position, so he says rather\ncasually, \"Will you come and talk to me?\" Whereupon she leaves her\nsandwiched position and goes over to another part of the room, and sits\ndown where there is a vacant seat beside her. Usually, however, the ladies\non the ends, being accessible, are more apt to be joined by the first\ngentleman entering than is the one in the center, whom it is impossible to\nreach. Etiquette has always decreed that gentlemen should not continue to\ntalk together after leaving the smoking-room, as it is not courteous to\nthose of the ladies who are necessarily left without partners.\n\nAt informal dinners, and even at many formal ones, bridge tables are set\nup in an adjoining room, if not in the drawing-room. Those few who do not\nplay bridge spend a half hour (or less) in conversation and then go home,\nunless there is some special diversion.\n\n\n=MUSIC OR OTHER ENTERTAINMENT AFTER DINNER=\n\nVery large dinners of fifty or over are almost invariably followed by some\nsort of entertainment. Either the dinner is given before a ball or a\nmusicale or amateur theatricals, or professionals are brought in to dance\nor sing.\n\nIn this day when conversation is not so much a \"lost\" as a \"wilfully\nabandoned\" art, people in numbers can not be left to spend an evening on\nnothing but conversation. Grouped together by the hundred and with bridge\ntables absent, the modern fashionables in America, and in England, too,\nare as helpless as children at a party without something for them to do,\nlisten to, or look at!\n\n\n=VERY BIG DINNERS=\n\nA dinner of sixty, for instance, is always served at separate tables; a\ncenter one of twenty people, and four corner tables of ten each. Or if\nless, a center table of twelve and four smaller tables of eight. A dinner\nof thirty-six or less is seated at a single table.\n\nBut whether there are eighteen, eighty, or one or two hundred, the setting\nof each individual table and the service is precisely the same. Each one\nis set with centerpiece, candles, compotiers, and evenly spaced plates,\nwith the addition of a number by which to identify it; or else each table\nis decorated with different colored flowers, pink, yellow, orchid, white.\nWhatever the manner of identification, the number or the color is written\nin the corner of the ladies' name cards that go in the envelopes handed to\neach arriving gentleman at the door: \"pink,\" \"yellow,\" \"orchid,\" \"white,\"\nor \"center table.\"\n\nIn arranging for the service of dinner the butler details three footmen,\nusually, to each table of ten, and six footmen to the center table of\ntwenty. There are several houses (palaces really) in New York that have\ndining-rooms big enough to seat a hundred or more easily. But sixty is a\nvery big dinner, and even thirty does not \"go\" well without an\nentertainment following it.\n\nOtherwise the details are the same in every particular as well as in table\nsetting: the hostess receives at the door; guests stand until dinner is\nannounced; the host leads the way with the guest of honor. The hostess\ngoes to table last. The host and hostess always sit at the big center\ntable and the others at that table are invariably the oldest present. No\none resents being grouped according to \"age,\" but many do resent a\nsegregation of ultra fashionables. You must never put all the prominent\nones at one table, unless you want forever to lose the acquaintance of\nthose at every other.\n\nAfter dinner, the gentlemen go to the smoking-room and the ladies sit in\nthe ballroom, where, if there is to be a theatrical performance, the stage\nis probably arranged. The gentlemen return, the guests take their places,\nand the performance begins. After the performance the leave-taking is the\nsame as at all dinners or parties.\n\n\n=TAKING LEAVE=\n\nThat the guest of honor must be first to take leave was in former times so\nfixed a rule that everyone used to sit on and on, no matter how late it\nbecame, waiting for her whose duty it was, to go! More often than not, the\nguest of honor was an absent-minded old lady, or celebrity, who very\nlikely was vaguely saying to herself, \"Oh, my! are these people never\ngoing home?\" until by and by it dawned upon her that the obligation was\nher own!\n\nBut to-day, although it is still the obligation of the guest who sat on\nthe host's right to make the move to go, it is not considered\nill-mannered, if the hour is growing late, for another lady to rise first.\nIn fact, unless the guest of honor is one _really_, meaning a stranger or\nan elderly lady of distinction, there is no actual precedence in being the\none first to go. If the hour is very early when the first lady rises, the\nhostess, who always rises too, very likely says: \"I hope you are not\nthinking of going!\"\n\nThe guest answers, \"We don't want to in the least, but Dick has to be at\nthe office so early!\" or \"I'm sorry, but I must. Thank you so much for\nasking us.\"\n\nUsually, however, each one merely says, \"Good night, thank you so much.\"\nThe hostess answers, \"I am so glad you could come!\" and she then presses a\nbell (not one that any guest can hear!) for the servants to be in the\ndressing-rooms and hall. When one guest leaves, they all leave--except\nthose at the bridge tables. They all say, \"Good night\" to whomever they\nwere talking with and shake hands, and then going up to their hostess,\nthey shake hands and say, \"Thank you for asking us,\" or \"Thank you so\nmuch.\"\n\n\"Thank you so much; good night,\" is the usual expression. And the hostess\nanswers, \"It was so nice to see you again,\" or \"I'm glad you could come.\"\nBut most usually of all she says merely, \"Good night!\" and suggests\nfriendliness by the tone in which she says it--an accent slightly more on\nthe \"good\" perhaps than on the \"night.\"\n\nIn the dressing-room, or in the hall, the maid is waiting to help the\nladies on with their wraps, and the butler is at the door. When Mr. and\nMrs. Jones are ready to leave, he goes out on the front steps and calls,\n\"Mr. Jones' car!\" The Jones' chauffeur answers, \"Here,\" the butler says to\neither Mr. or Mrs. Jones, \"Your car is at the door!\" and they go out.\n\nThe bridge people leave as they finish their games; sometimes a table at a\ntime or most likely two together. (Husbands and wives are never, if it\ncan be avoided, put at the same table.) Young people in saying good night\nsay, \"Good night, it has been too wonderful!\" or \"Good night, and thank\nyou _so_ much.\" And the hostess smiles and says, \"So glad you could come!\"\nor just \"Good night!\"\n\n\n=THE LITTLE DINNER=\n\nThe little dinner is thought by most people to be the very pleasantest\nsocial function there is. It is always informal, of course, and intimate\nconversation is possible, since strangers are seldom, or at least very\ncarefully, included. For younger people, or others who do not find great\nsatisfaction in conversation, the dinner of eight and two tables of bridge\nafterwards has no rival in popularity. The formal dinner is liked by most\npeople now and then (and for those who don't especially like it, it is at\nleast salutary as a spine stiffening exercise), but for night after night,\nseason after season, the little dinner is to social activity what the\nroast course is to the meal.\n\nThe service of a \"little\" dinner is the same as that of a big one. As has\nbeen said, proper service in properly run houses is never relaxed, whether\ndinner is for eighteen or for two alone. The table appointments are\nequally fine and beautiful, though possibly not quite so rare. Really\npriceless old glass and china can't be replaced because duplicates do not\nexist and to use it three times a day would be to court destruction;\nreplicas, however, are scarcely less beautiful and can be replaced if\nchipped. The silver is identical; the food is equally well prepared,\nthough a course or two is eliminated; the service is precisely the same.\nThe clothes that fashionable people wear every evening they are home\nalone, are, if not the same, at least as beautiful of their kind. Young\nGilding's lounge suit is quite as \"handsome\" as his dinner clothes, and he\ntubs and shaves and changes his linen when he puts it on. His wife wears a\ntea gown, which is classified as a neglig\u00e9 rather in irony, since it is\napt to be more elaborate and gorgeous (to say nothing of dignified) than\nhalf of the garments that masquerade these days as evening dresses! They\nwear these informal clothes only if very intimate friends are coming to\ndinner alone. \"Alone\" may include as many as eight!--but never includes a\nstranger.\n\n[Illustration: A DINNER SERVICE WITHOUT SILVER--\"THE LITTLE DINNER IS\nTHOUGHT BY MOST PEOPLE TO BE THE VERY PLEASANTEST SOCIAL FUNCTION THERE\nIS.\" [Page 228.]]\n\nOtherwise, at informal dinners, the host wears a dinner coat and the\nhostess a simple evening dress, or perhaps an elaborate one that has been\nseen by everyone and which goes on at little dinners for the sake of\ngetting some \"wear out of it.\" She never, however, receives formally\nstanding, though she rises when a guest comes into the room, shakes hands\nand sits down again. When dinner is announced, gentlemen do not offer\ntheir arms to the ladies. The hostess and the other ladies go into the\ndining-room together, not in a procession, but just as they happen to\ncome. If one of them is much older than the others, the younger ones wait\nfor her to go ahead of them, or one who is much younger goes last. The men\nstroll in the rear. The hostess on reaching the dining-room goes to her\nown place where she stands and tells everyone where she or he is to sit.\n\"Mary, will you sit next to Jim, and Lucy on his other side; Kate, over\nthere, Bobo, next to me,\" etc.\n\n\n=CARVING ON THE TABLE=\n\nCarving is sometimes seen at \"home\" dinner tables. A certain type of man\nalways likes to carve, and such a one does. But in forty-nine houses out\nof fifty, in New York at least, the carving is done by the cook in the\nkitchen--a roast while it is still in the roasting pan, and close to the\nrange at that, so that nothing can possibly get cooled off in the carving.\nAfter which the pieces are carefully put together again, and transferred\nto an intensely hot platter. This method has two advantages over table\ncarving; quicker service, and hotter food. Unless a change takes place in\nthe present fashion, none except cooks will know anything about carving,\nwhich was once considered an art necessary to every gentleman. The boast\nof the high-born Southerner, that he could carve a canvas-back holding it\non his fork, will be as unknown as the driving of a four-in-hand.\n\nOld-fashioned butlers sometimes carve in the pantry, but in the most\nmodern service all carving is done by the cook. Cold meats are, in the\nEnglish service, put whole on the sideboard and the family and guests cut\noff what they choose themselves. In America cold meat is more often sliced\nand laid on a platter garnished with finely chopped meat jelly and water\ncress or parsley.\n\n\n=THE \"STAG\" OR \"BACHELOR\" DINNER=\n\nA man's dinner is sometimes called a \"stag\" or a \"bachelor\" dinner; and as\nits name implies, is a dinner given by a man and for men only. A man's\ndinner is usually given to celebrate an occasion of welcome or farewell.\nThe best-known bachelor dinner is the one given by the groom just before\nhis wedding. Other dinners are more apt to be given by one man (or a group\nof men) in honor of a noted citizen who has returned from a long absence,\nor who is about to embark on an expedition or a foreign mission. Or a\nyoung man may give a dinner in honor of a friend's twenty-first birthday;\nor an older man may give a dinner merely because he has a quantity of game\nwhich he has shot and wants to share with his especial friends.\n\nNearly always a man's dinner is given at the host's club or his bachelor\nquarters or in a private room in a hotel. But if a man chooses to give a\nstag dinner in his own house, his wife (or his mother) should not appear.\nFor a wife to come downstairs and receive the guests for him, can not be\ntoo strongly condemned as out of place. Such a maneuver on her part,\ninstead of impressing his guests with her own grace and beauty, is far\nmore likely to make them think what a \"poor worm\" her husband must be, to\nallow himself to be hen-pecked. And for a mother to appear at a son's\ndinner is, if anything, worse. An essential piece of advice to every woman\nis: No matter how much you may want to say \"How do you do\" to your\nhusband's or your son's friends--_don't!_\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV\n\nDINNER GIVING WITH LIMITED EQUIPMENT\n\n\n=THE SERVICE PROBLEM=\n\nPeople who live all the year in the country are not troubled with formal\ndinner giving, because (excepting on great estates) formality and the\ncountry do not go together.\n\nFor the one or two formal dinners which the average city dweller feels\nobliged to give every season, nothing is easier than to hire\nprofessionals; it is also economical, since nothing is wasted in\nexperiment. A cook equal to the Gildings' chef can be had to come in and\ncook your dinner at about the price of two charwomen; skilled butlers or\nwaitresses are to be had in all cities of any size at comparatively\nreasonable fees.\n\nThe real problem is in giving the innumerable casual and informal dinners\nfor which professionals are not only expensive, but inappropriate. The\nproblem of limited equipment would not present great difficulty if the\ntendency of the age were toward a slower pace, but the opposite is the\ncase; no one wants to be kept waiting a second at table, and the world of\nfashion is growing more impatient and critical instead of less.\n\nThe service of a dinner can however be much simplified and shortened by\nchoosing dishes that do not require accessories.\n\n\n=DISHES THAT HAVE ACCOMPANYING CONDIMENTS=\n\nNothing so delays the service of a dinner as dishes that must immediately\nbe followed by necessary accessories. If there is no one to help the\nbutler or waitress, no dish must be included on the menu--unless you are\nonly one or two at table, or unless your guests are neither critical nor\n\"modern\"--that is not complete in itself.\n\nFor instance, fish has nearly always an accompanying dish. Broiled fish,\nor fish meuni\u00e8re, has ice-cold cucumbers sliced as thin as Saratoga chips,\nwith a very highly seasoned French dressing, or a mixture of cucumbers and\ntomatoes. Boiled fish always has mousseline, Hollandaise, mushroom or egg\nsauce, and round scooped boiled potatoes sprinkled with parsley. Fried\nfish must always be accompanied by tartar sauce and pieces of lemon, and a\nboiled fish even if covered with sauce when served, is usually followed by\nadditional sauce.\n\nMany meats have condiments. Roast beef is never served at a dinner\nparty--it is a family dish and generally has Yorkshire pudding or roast\npotatoes on the platter with the roast itself, and is followed by pickles\nor spiced fruit.\n\nTurkey likewise, with its chestnut stuffing and accompanying cranberry\nsauce, is not a \"company\" dish, though excellent for an informal dinner.\nSaddle of mutton is a typical company dish--all mutton has currant jelly.\nLamb has mint sauce--or mint jelly.\n\nPartridge or guinea hen must have two sauce boats--presented on one\ntray--browned bread-crumbs in one, and cream sauce in the other.\n\nApple sauce goes with barnyard duck.\n\nThe best accompaniment to wild duck is the precisely timed 18 minutes in a\nquick oven! And celery salad, which goes with all game, need not be\nespecially hurried.\n\nSalad is always the accompaniment of \"tame game,\" aspics, cold meat dishes\nof all sorts, and is itself \"accompanied by\" crackers and cheese or cheese\nsouffl\u00e9 or cheese straws.\n\n\n=SPECIAL MENUS OF UNACCOMPANIED DISHES=\n\nOne person can wait on eight people if dishes are chosen which need no\nsupplements. The fewer the dishes to be passed, the fewer the hands needed\nto pass them. And yet many housekeepers thoughtlessly order dishes within\nthe list above, and then wonder why the dinner is so hopelessly slow, when\ntheir waitress is usually so good!\n\nThe following suggestions are merely offered in illustration; each\nhousekeeper can easily devise further for herself. It is not necessary to\npass anything whatever with melon or grapefruit, or a mac\u00e9doine of fruit,\nor a canap\u00e9. Oysters, on the other hand, have to be followed by tabasco\nand buttered brown bread. Soup needs nothing with it (if you do not choose\nsplit pea which needs croutons, or petite marmite which needs grated\ncheese). Fish dishes which are \"made\" with sauce in the dish, such as sole\nau vin blanc, lobster Newburg, crab ravigote, fish mousse, especially if\nin a ring filled with plenty of sauce, do not need anything more. Tartar\nsauce for fried fish can be put in baskets made of hollowed-out lemon\nrind--a basket for each person--and used as a garnishing around the dish.\n\nFilet mignon, or fillet of beef, both of them surrounded by little clumps\nof vegetables share with chicken casserole in being the life-savers of the\nhostess who has one waitress in her dining-room. Another dish, but more\nappropriate to lunch than to dinner, is of French chops banked against\nmashed potatoes, or pur\u00e9e of chestnuts, and surrounded by string beans or\npeas. None of these dishes requires any following dish whatever, not even\na vegetable.\n\nFried chicken with corn fritters on the platter is almost as good as the\ntwo beef dishes, since the one green vegetable which should go with it,\ncan be served leisurely, because fried chicken is not quickly eaten. And a\nring of aspic with salad in the center does not require accompanying\ncrackers as immediately as plain lettuce.\n\nSteak and broiled chicken are fairly practical since neither needs gravy,\ncondiment, or sauce--especially if you have a divided vegetable dish so\nthat two vegetables can be passed at the same time.\n\nIf a hostess chooses not necessarily the above dishes but others which\napproximately take their places, she need have no fear of a slow dinner,\nif her one butler or waitress is at all competent.\n\n\n=THE POSSIBILITIES OF THE PLAIN COOK=\n\nIn giving informal or little dinners, you need never worry because you\ncannot set the dishes of a \"professional\" dinner-party cook before your\nfriends or even strangers; so long as the food that you are offering is\ngood of its kind.\n\nIt is by no means necessary that your cook should be able to make the\n\"clear\" soup that is one of the tests of the perfect cook (and practically\nnever produced by any other); nor is it necessary that she be able to\nconstruct comestible mosaics and sculptures. The essential thing is to\nprevent her from attempting anything she can't do well. If she can make\ncertain dishes that are pretty as well as good to taste, so much the\nbetter. But remember, the more pretentious a dish is, the more it\nchallenges criticism.\n\nIf your cook can make neither clear nor cream soup, but can make a\ndelicious clam chowder, better far to have a clam chowder! On no account\nlet her attempt clear green turtle, which has about as good a chance to be\nperfect as a supreme of boned capon--in other words, none whatsoever! And\nthe same way throughout dinner. Whichever dishes your own particular Nora\nor Selma or Marie can do best, those are the ones you must have for your\ndinners. Another thing: it is not important to have variety. Because you\ngave the Normans chicken casserole the last time they dined with you is no\nreason why you should not give it to them again--if that is the \"specialty\nof the house\" as the French say. A late, and greatly loved, hostess whose\nSunday luncheons at a huge country house just outside of Washington were\nfor years one of the outstanding features of Washington's smartest\nsociety, had the same lunch exactly, week after week, year after year.\nThose who went to her house knew just as well what the dishes would be as\nthey did where the dining-room was situated. At her few enormous and\nformal dinners in town, her cook was allowed to be magnificently\narchitectural, but if you dined with her alone, the chances were ten to\none that the Sunday chicken and pancakes would appear before you.\n\n\n=DO NOT EXPERIMENT FOR STRANGERS=\n\nTypical dinner-party dishes are invariably the temptation no less than the\ndownfall of ambitious ignorance. Never let an inexperienced cook _attempt\na new dish_ for company, no matter how attractive her description of it\nmay sound. Try it yourself, or when you are having family or most intimate\nfriends who will understand if it turns out all wrong that it is a \"trial\"\ndish. In fact, it is a very good idea to share the testing of it with some\none who can help you in suggestions, if they are needed for its\nimprovement. Or supposing you have a cook who is rather poor on all dinner\ndishes, but makes delicious bread and cake and waffles and oyster stew and\ncreamed chicken, or even hash! You can make a specialty of asking people\nto \"supper.\" Suppers are necessarily informal, but there is no objection\nin that. Formal parties play a very small r\u00f4le anyway compared to informal\nones. There are no end of people, and the smartest ones at that, who\nentertain only in the most informal possible way. Mrs. Oldname gives at\nmost two formal dinners a year; her typical dinners and suppers are for\neight.\n\n\n=PROPER DISHING=\n\nThe \"dishing\" is quite as important as the cooking; a smear or thumb-mark\non the edge of a dish is like a spot on the front of a dress!\n\nWater must not be allowed to collect at the bottom of a dish (that is why\na folded napkin is always put under boiled fish and sometimes under\nasparagus). And dishes must be hot; they cannot be too hot! Meat juice\nthat has started to crust is nauseating. Far better have food too hot to\neat and let people take their time eating it than that others should\nsuffer the disgust of cold victuals! Sending in cold food is one of the\nworst faults (next to not knowing how to cook) that a cook can have.\n\n\n=PROFESSIONAL OR HOME DINING ROOM SERVICE=\n\nJust as it is better to hire a professional dinner-party cook than to run\nthe risk of attempting a formal dinner with your own Nora or Selma unless\nyou are very sure she is adequate, in the same way it is better to have a\nprofessional waitress as captain over your own, or a professional butler\nover your own inexperienced one, than to have your meal served in spasms\nand long pauses. But if your waitress, assisted by the chambermaid,\nperfectly waits on six, you will find that they can very nicely manage\nten, even with accompanied dishes.\n\n\n=BLUNDERS IN SERVICE=\n\nIf an inexperienced servant blunders, you should pretend, if you can, not\nto know it. Never attract anyone's attention to anything by apologizing or\nexplaining, unless the accident happens to a guest. Under ordinary\ncircumstances \"least said, soonest mended\" is the best policy. If a\nservant blunders, it makes the situation much worse to take her to task,\nthe cause being usually that she is nervous or ignorant. Speak, if it is\nnecessary to direct her, very gently and as kindly as possible; your\nobject being to restore confidence, not to increase the disorder. Beckon\nher to you and tell her as you might tell a child you were teaching: \"Give\nMrs. Smith a tablespoon, not a teaspoon.\" Or, \"You have forgotten the fork\non that dish.\" Never let her feel that you think her stupid, but encourage\nher as much as possible and when she does anything especially well, tell\nher so.\n\n\n=THE ENCOURAGEMENT OF PRAISE=\n\nNearly all people are quick to censure but rather chary of praise.\nAdmonish of course where you must, but censure only with justice, and\ndon't forget that whether of high estate or humble, we all of us like\npraise--sometimes. When a guest tells you your dinner is the best he has\never eaten, remember that the cook cooked it, and tell her it was praised.\nOr if the dining-room service was silent and quick and perfect, then tell\nthose who served it how well it was done. If you are entertaining all the\ntime, you need not commend your household after every dinner you give, but\nif any especial willingness, attentiveness, or tact is shown, don't forget\nthat a little praise is not only merest justice but is beyond the purse of\nno one.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI\n\nLUNCHEONS, BREAKFASTS AND SUPPERS\n\n\n=THE INVITATIONS=\n\nAlthough the engraved card is occasionally used for an elaborate luncheon,\nespecially for one given in honor of a noted person, formal invitations to\nlunch in very fashionable houses are nearly always written in the first\nperson, and rarely sent out more than a week in advance. For instance:\n\n    Dear Mrs. Kindhart (or Martha):\n\n    Will you lunch with me on Monday the tenth at half after one\n    o'clock?\n\n    Hoping so much to see you,\n\n    Sincerely (or affectionately),\n                         Jane Toplofty.\n\nIf the above lunch were given in honor of somebody--Mrs. Eminent, for\ninstance--the phrase \"to meet Mrs. Eminent\" would have been added\nimmediately after the word \"o'clock.\" At a very large luncheon for which\nthe engraved card might be used, \"To meet Mrs. Eminent\" would be written\nacross the top of the card of invitation.\n\nInformal invitations are telephoned nearly always.\n\nInvitation to a stand-up luncheon (or breakfast; it is breakfast if the\nhour is twelve or half after, and lunch if at one, or one-thirty), is\neither telephoned or written on an ordinary visiting card:\n\n    [HW: Sat. Oct. 2.\n    Luncheon at 1 o'clock]\n\n    Mr. and Mrs. Gilding\n\n                 GOLDEN HALL\n\nIf R.s.v.p. is added in the lower corner, the invitation should be\nanswered, otherwise the hostess is obliged to guess how many to provide\nfor.\n\nOr, if the hostess prefers, a personal note is always courteous:\n\n    Dear Mrs. Neighbor:\n\n    We are having a stand-up luncheon on Saturday, October Second, at\n    one o'clock, and hope that you and your husband and any guests\n    who may be staying with you will come,\n\n               Very sincerely yours,\n\n                          Alice Toplofty Gilding.\n    Golden Hall\n    Sept. 27.\n\n\nA personal note always exacts a reply--which may however be telephoned,\nunless the invitation was worded in the formal third person. A written\nanswer is more polite, if the hostess is somewhat of a stranger to you.\n\n\n=THE FORMAL LUNCHEON OF TO-DAY=\n\nLuncheon, being a daylight function, is never so formidable as a dinner,\neven though it may be every bit as formal and differ from the latter in\nminor details only. Luncheons are generally given by, and for, ladies,\nbut it is not unusual, especially in summer places or in town on Saturday\nor Sunday, to include an equal number of gentlemen.\n\nBut no matter how large or formal a luncheon may be, there is rarely a\nchauffeur on the sidewalk, or a carpet or an awning. The hostess, instead\nof receiving at the door, sits usually in the center of the room in some\nplace that has an unobstructed approach from the door. Each guest coming\ninto the room is preceded by the butler to within a short speaking\ndistance of the hostess, where he announces the new arrival's name, and\nthen stands aside. Where there is a waitress instead of a butler, guests\ngreet the hostess unannounced. The hostess rises, or if standing takes a\nstep forward, shakes hands, says \"I'm so glad to see you,\" or \"I am\ndelighted to see you,\" or \"How do you do!\" She then waits for a second or\ntwo to see if the guest who has just come in speaks to anyone; if not, she\nmakes the necessary introduction.\n\nWhen the butler or waitress has \"counted heads\" and knows the guests have\narrived, he or she enters the room, bows to the hostess and says,\n\"Luncheon is served.\"\n\nIf there is a guest of honor, the hostess leads the way to the\ndining-room, walking beside her. Otherwise, the guests go in twos or\nthrees, or even singly, just as they happen to come, except that the very\nyoung make way for their elders, and gentlemen stroll in with those they\nhappen to be talking to, or, if alone, fill in the rear. The gentlemen\n_never_ offer their arms to ladies in going in to a luncheon--unless there\nshould be an elderly guest of honor, who might be taken in by the host, as\nat a dinner. But the others follow informally.\n\n\n=THE TABLE=\n\nCandles have no place on a lunch or breakfast table; and are used only\nwhere a dining-room is unfortunately without daylight. Also a plain damask\ntablecloth (which must always be put on top of a thick table felt) is\ncorrect for dinner but not for luncheon. The traditional lunch table is\n\"bare\"--which does not mean actually bare at all, but that it has a\ncenterpiece, either round or rectangular or square, with place mats to\nmatch, made in literally unrestricted varieties of linen, needlework and\nlace. The centerpiece is anywhere from 30 inches to a yard and a half\nsquare, on a square or round table, and from half a yard to a yard wide by\nlength in proportion to the length of a rectangular table. The place mats\nare round or square or rectangular to match, and are put at the places.\n\nOr if the table is a refectory one, instead of centerpiece and doilies,\nthe table is set with a runner not reaching to the edge at the side, but\nfalling over both ends. Or there may be a tablecloth made to fit the top\nof the table to within an inch or two of its edge. Occasionally there is a\nreal cloth that hangs over like a dinner cloth, but it always has lace or\nopen-work and is made of fine linen so that the table shows through.\n\nThe decorations of the table are practically the same as for dinner:\nflowers, or a silver ornament or epergne in the center, and flower dishes\nor compotiers or patens filled with ornamental fruit or candy at the\ncorners. If the table is very large and rather bare without candles, four\nvases or silver bowls of flowers, or ornamental figures are added.\n\nIf the center ornament is of porcelain, four porcelain figures to match\nhave at least a logical reason for their presence, or a bisque \"garden\"\nset of vases and balustrades, with small flowers and vines put in the\nvases to look as though they were growing, follows out the decoration.\nMost people, however, like a sparsely ornamented table.\n\nThe places are set as for dinner, with a place plate, three forks, two\nknives and a small spoon. The lunch napkin, which should match the table\nlinen, is much smaller than the dinner napkin, and is not folded quite the\nsame: it is folded like a handkerchief, in only four folds (four\nthicknesses). The square is laid on the place plate diagonally, with the\nmonogrammed (or embroidered) corner pointing down toward the edge of the\ntable. The upper corner is then turned sharply under in a flat crease for\nabout a quarter of its diagonal length; then the two sides are rolled\nloosely under, making a sort of pillow effect laid sideways; with a\nstraight top edge and a pointed lower edge, and the monogram displayed in\nthe center.\n\nAnother feature of luncheon service, which is always omitted at dinner, is\nthe bread and butter plate.\n\n\n_The Bread and Butter Plate_\n\nThe butter plate has been entirely dispossessed by the bread and butter\nplate, which is part of the luncheon service always--as well as of\nbreakfast and supper. It is a very small plate about five and a half to\nsix and a half inches in diameter, and is put at the left side of each\nplace just beyond the forks. Butter is sometimes put on the plate by the\nservant (as in a restaurant) but usually it is passed. Hot breads are an\nimportant feature of every luncheon; hot crescents, soda biscuits, bread\nbiscuits, dinner rolls, or corn bread, the latter baked in small pans like\npie plates four inches in diameter. Very thin bread that is roasted in the\noven until it is curled and light brown (exactly like a large Saratoga\nchip), is often made for those who don't eat butter, and is also suitable\nfor dinner. This \"double-baked\" bread, toast, and one or two of the above\nvarieties, are all put in an old-fashioned silver cake-basket, or actual\nbasket of wicker, and passed as often as necessary. Butter is also passed\n(or helped) throughout the meal until the table is cleared for dessert.\nBread and butter plates are always removed with the salt and pepper pots.\n\n\n=THE SERVICE OF LUNCHEON=\n\nThe service is identical with that of dinner. Carving is done in the\nkitchen and no food set on the table except ornamental dishes of fruit,\ncandy and nuts. The plate service is also the same as at dinner. The\nplaces are never left plateless, excepting after salad, when the table is\ncleared and crumbed for dessert. The dessert plates and finger bowls are\narranged as for dinner. Flowers are usually put in the finger bowls, a\nlittle spray of any sweet-scented flower, but \"corsage bouquets\" laid at\nthe places with flower pins complete are in very bad taste.\n\n\n=THE LUNCHEON MENU=\n\nFive courses at most (not counting the passing of a dish of candy or\nafter-dinner coffee as a course), or more usually four actual courses, are\nthought sufficient in the smartest houses. Not even at the Worldlys' or\nthe Gildings' will you ever see a longer menu than:\n\n  1. Fruit, or soup in cups\n  2. Eggs\n  3. Meat and vegetables\n  4. Salad\n  5. Dessert\n\nor\n\n  1. Fruit\n  2. Soup\n  3. Meat and vegetables\n  4. Salad\n  5. Dessert\n\nor\n\n  1. Fruit\n  2. Soup\n  3. Eggs\n  4. Fowl or \"tame\" game with salad\n  5. Dessert\n\nAn informal lunch menu is seldom more than four courses and would\neliminate either No. 1 or No. 2 or No. 5.\n\nThe most popular fruit course is a mac\u00e9doine or mixture of fresh orange,\ngrape fruit, malaga grapes, banana, and perhaps a peach or a little\npineapple; in fact, any sort of fruit cut into very small pieces, with\nsugar and maraschino, or rum, for flavor--or nothing but sugar--served in\nspecial bowl-shaped glasses that fit into long-stemmed and much larger\nones, with a space for crushed ice between; or it can just as well be put\nin champagne or any bowl-shaped glasses, after being kept as cold as\npossible in the ice-box until sent to the table.\n\nIf the first course is grape fruit, it is cut across in half, the sections\ncut free and all dividing skin and seeds taken out with a sharp vegetable\nknife, and sugar put in it and left standing for an hour or so. A slice\nof melon is served plain.\n\nSoup at luncheon, or at a wedding breakfast or a ball supper, is never\nserved in soup plates, but in two-handled cups, and is eaten with a\nteaspoon or a bouillon spoon. It is limited to a few varieties: either\nchicken, or clam broth, with a spoonful of whipped cream on top; or\nbouillon, or green turtle, or strained chicken, or tomato broth; or in\nsummer, cold bouillon or broth.\n\nLunch party egg dishes must number a hundred varieties. (See any cook\nbook!) Eggs that are substantial and \"rich,\" such as eggs Benedict, or\nstuffed with p\u00e2t\u00e9 de foie gras and a mushroom sauce, should then be\n\"balanced\" by a simple meat, such as broiled chicken and salad, combining\nmeat and salad courses in one. On the other hand, should you have a light\negg course, like \"eggs surprise,\" you could have meat and vegetables, and\nplain salad; or an elaborate salad and no dessert. Or with fruit and soup,\nomit eggs, especially if there is to be an aspic with salad.\n\nThe menu of an informal luncheon, if it does not leave out a course, at\nleast chooses simpler dishes. A bouillon or broth, shirred eggs or an\nomelette; or scrambled eggs on toast which has first been spread with a\np\u00e2t\u00e9 or meat pur\u00e9e; then chicken or a chop with vegetables, a salad of\nplain lettuce with crackers and cheese, and a pudding or pie or any other\n\"family\" dessert. Or broiled chicken, chicken croquettes, or an aspic, is\nserved with the salad in very hot weather. While cold food is both\nappropriate and palatable, no meal should ever be chosen without at least\none course of hot food. Many people dislike cold food, and it disagrees\nwith others, but if you offer your guests soup, or even tea or chocolate,\nit would then do to have the rest of the meal cold.\n\n\n=LUNCHEON BEVERAGES=\n\nIt is an American custom--especially in communities where the five o'clock\ntea habit is neither so strong nor so universal as in New York, for the\nlady of a house to have the tea set put before her at the table, not only\nwhen alone, but when having friends lunching informally with her, and to\npour tea, coffee, or chocolate. And there is certainly not the slightest\nreason why, if she is used to these beverages and would feel their\nomission, she should not \"pour out\" what she chooses. In fact, although\ntea is never served hot at formal New York luncheons, iced tea is\ncustomary in all country houses in summer; and chocolate, not poured by\nthe hostess, but brought in from the pantry and put down at the right of\neach plate, is by no means unusual at informal lunch parties.\n\nIced tea at lunch in summer is poured at the table by a servant from a\nglass pitcher, and is prepared like a \"cup\" with lemon and sugar, and\nsometimes with cut up fresh fruit and a little squeezed fruit juice. Plain\ncold tea may be passed in glasses, and lemon and sugar separately. At an\ninformal luncheon, cold coffee, instead of tea, is passed around in a\nglass pitcher, on a tray that also holds a bowl of powdered sugar and a\npitcher of cold milk, and another of as thick as possible cream. The\nguests pour their coffee to suit themselves into tall glasses half full of\nbroken ice, and furnished with very long-handled spoons.\n\nIf tea or coffee or chocolate are not served during the meal, there is\nalways a cup of some sort: grape or orange juice (in these days) with\nsugar and mint leaves, and ginger ale or carbonic water.\n\nIf dessert is a hot pudding or pastry, the \"hotel service\" of dessert\nplates should be used. The glass plate is particularly suitable for ice\ncream or any cold dessert, but is apt to crack if intensely hot food is\nput on it.\n\n\n=DETAILS OF ETIQUETTE AT LUNCHEONS=\n\nGentlemen leave their coats, hats, sticks, in the hall; ladies leave heavy\nouter wraps in the hall, or dressing-room, but always go into the\ndrawing-room with their hats and gloves on. They wear their fur neck\npieces and carry their muffs in their hands, if they choose, or they leave\nthem in the hall or dressing-room. But fashionable ladies _never_ take off\ntheir hats. Even the hostess herself almost invariably wears a hat at a\nformal luncheon in her own house, though there is no reason why she\nshould not be hatless if she prefers, or if she thinks she is prettier\nwithout! Guests, however, do not take off their hats at a lunch party even\nin the country. They take off their gloves at the table, or sooner if they\nchoose, and either remove or turn up, their veils. The hostess does not\nwear gloves, ever. It is also very unsuitable for a hostess to wear a face\nveil in her own house, unless there is something the matter with her face,\nthat must not be subjected to view! A hostess in a veil does not give her\nguests the impression of \"veiled beauty,\" but the contrary. Guests, on the\nother hand, may with perfect fitness keep their veils on throughout the\nmeal, merely fastening the lower edge up over their noses. They must _not_\nallow a veil to hang loose, and carry food under and behind it, nor must\nthey eat with gloves on. A veil kept persistently over the face, and\ngloves kept persistently over the hands, means one thing: Ugliness behind.\nSo unless you have to--don't!\n\nThe wearing of elaborate dresses at luncheons has gone entirely out of\nfashion; and yet one does once in a while see an occasional lady--rarely a\nNew Yorker--who outshines a bird of paradise and a jeweler's window; but\nNew York women of distinction wear rather simple clothes--simple meaning\nuntrimmed, not inexpensive. Very conspicuous clothes are chosen either by\nthe new rich, to assure themselves of their own elegance--which is utterly\nlacking--or by the muttons dressed lamb-fashion, to assure themselves of\ntheir own youth--which alas, is gone!\n\nGentlemen at luncheon in town on a Sunday wear cutaway coats; in other\nwords, what they wear to church. On a Saturday, they wear their business\nsuits, sack coat with either stiff or pleated-bosom shirts, and a starched\ncollar. In the country, they wear country clothes.\n\n[Illustration: \"AT AN INFORMAL DINNER THE TABLE APPOINTMENTS ARE EQUALLY\nFINE AND BEAUTIFUL, THOUGH POSSIBLY NOT QUITE SO RARE.\" [Page 228.]]\n\n\n=WHAT THE SERVANTS WEAR=\n\nA butler wears his \"morning\" clothes; cutaway coat, gray striped trousers,\nhigh black waistcoat, black tie. A \"hired waiter\" wears a dress suit, but\nnever a butler in a \"smart\" house; he does not put on his evening clothes\nuntil after six o'clock. In a smart house, the footmen wear their dress\nliveries, and a waitress and other maids wear their best uniforms.\n\n\n=THE GUESTS LEAVE=\n\nThe usual lunch hour is half past one. By a quarter to three the last\nguest is invariably gone, unless, of course, it is a bridge luncheon, or\nfor some other reason they are staying longer. From half an hour to\nthree-quarters at the table, and from twenty minutes to half an hour's\nconversation afterwards, means that by half past two (if lunch was prompt)\nguests begin leaving. Once in a while, especially at a mixed lunch where\nperhaps talented people are persuaded to become \"entertainers\" the\naudience stays on for hours! But such parties are so out of the usual that\nthey have nothing to do with the ordinary procedure, which is to leave\nabout twenty minutes after the end of the meal.\n\nThe details for leaving are also the same as for dinners. One lady rises\nand says good-by, the hostess rises and shakes hands and rings a bell (if\nnecessary) for the servant to be in the hall to open the door. When one\nguest gets up to go, the others invariably follow. They say \"Good-by\" and\n\"Thank you so much.\"\n\nOr, at a little luncheon, intimate friends often stay on indefinitely; but\nwhen lunching with an acquaintance one should never stay a moment longer\nthan the other guests. The guest who sits on and on, unless earnestly\npressed to do so, is wanting in tact and social sense. If a hostess\ninvites a stranger who might by any chance prove a barnacle, she can\nprovide for the contingency by instructing her butler or waitress to tell\nher when her car is at the door. She then says: \"I had to have the car\nannounced, because I have an appointment at the doctor's. Do wait while I\nput on my things--I shall be only a moment! And I can take you wherever\nyou want to go!\" This expedient should not be used when a hostess has\nleisure to sit at home, but on the other hand, a guest should never create\nan awkward situation for her hostess by staying too long.\n\nIn the country where people live miles apart, they naturally stay somewhat\nlonger than in town.\n\nOr two or three intimate friends who perhaps (especially in the country)\ncome to spend the day, are not bound by rules of etiquette but by the\nrules of their own and their hostess' personal preference. They take off\ntheir hats or not as they choose, and they bring their sewing or knitting\nand sit all day, or they go out and play games, and in other ways behave\nas house-guests rather than visitors at luncheon. The only rule about such\nan informal gathering as this is, that no one should ever go and spend the\nday and make herself at home unless she is in the house of a really very\nintimate friend or relative, or unless she has been especially and\nspecifically invited to do that very thing.\n\n\n=THE STAND-UP LUNCHEON=\n\nThis is nothing more nor less than a buffet lunch. It is popular because\nit is a very informal and jolly sort of party--an indoor picnic\nreally--and never attempted except among people who know each other well.\n\nThe food is all put on the dining table and every one helps himself. There\nis always bouillon or oyster stew or clam chowder. The most \"informal\"\ndishes are suitable for this sort of a meal, as for a picnic. There are\ntwo hot dishes and a salad, and a dessert which may be, but seldom is, ice\ncream.\n\nStand-up luncheons are very practical for hostesses who have medium sized\nhouses, or when an elastic number of guests are expected at the time of a\nball game, or other event that congregates a great many people.\n\nA hunt breakfast is usually a stand-up luncheon. It is a \"breakfast\" by\ncourtesy of half an hour in time. At twelve-thirty it is breakfast, at one\no'clock it is lunch.\n\nRegular weekly stand-up luncheons are given by hospitable people who have\nbig places in the country and encourage their friends to drive over on\nsome especial day when they are \"at home\"--Saturdays or Sundays\ngenerally--and intimate friends drop in uninvited, but always prepared\nfor. On such occasions, luncheon is made a little more comfortable by\nproviding innumerable individual tables to which people can carry the\nplates, glasses or cups and sit down in comfort.\n\n\n=SUPPERS=\n\nSupper is the most intimate meal there is, and since none but family or\nclosest friends are ever included, invitations are invariably by word of\nmouth.\n\nThe atmosphere of a luncheon is often formal, but informal luncheons and\nsuppers differ in nothing except day and evening lights, and clothes.\nStrangers are occasionally invited to informal luncheons, but only\nintimate friends are bidden to supper.\n\n\n=THE SUPPER TABLE=\n\nThe table is set, as to places and napery, exactly like the lunch table,\nwith the addition of candlesticks or candelabra as at dinner. Where supper\ndiffers from the usual lunch table is that in front of the hostess is a\nbig silver tea-tray with full silver service for tea or cocoa or chocolate\nor breakfast coffee, most often chocolate or cocoa and either tea or\ncoffee. At the host's end of the table there is perhaps a chafing\ndish--that is, if the host fancies himself a cook!\n\nA number of people whose establishments are not very large, have very\ninformal Sunday night suppers on their servants' Sundays out, and forage\nfor themselves. The table is left set, a cold dish of something and salad\nare left in the icebox; the ingredients for one or two chafing dish\nspecialties are also left ready. At supper time a member of the family,\nand possibly an intimate friend or two, carry the dishes to the table and\nmake hot toast on a toaster.\n\nThis kind of supper is, in fact as well as spirit, an indoor picnic;\nthought to be the greatest fun by the Kindharts, but little appreciated by\nthe Gildings, which brings it down, with so many other social customs, to\na mere matter of personal taste.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII\n\nBALLS AND DANCES\n\n\nA ball is the only social function in America to which such qualifying\nwords as splendor and magnificence can with proper modesty of expression\nbe applied. Even the most elaborate wedding is not quite \"a scene of\nsplendor and magnificence\" no matter how luxurious the decorations or how\ncostly the dress of the bride and bridesmaids, because the majority of the\nwedding guests do not complete the picture. A dinner may be lavish, a\ndance may be beautiful, but a ball alone is prodigal, meaning, of course,\na private ball of greatest importance.\n\nOn rare occasions, a great ball is given in a private house, but since few\nhouses are big enough to provide dancing space for several hundred and\nsit-down supper space for a greater number still, besides smoking-room,\ndressing-room and sitting-about space, it would seem logical to describe a\ntypical ball as taking place in the ballroom suite built for the purpose\nin nearly all hotels.\n\n\n=A HOSTESS PREPARES TO GIVE A BALL=\n\nThe hostess who is not giving the ball in her own house goes first of all\nto see the manager of the hotel (or of whatever suitable assembly rooms\nthere may be) and finds out which evenings are available. She then\ntelephones--probably from the manager's office--and engages the two best\norchestras for whichever evening both the orchestras and the ballroom are\nat her disposal. Of the two, music is of more importance than rooms. With\nperfect music the success of a ball is more than three-quarters assured;\nwithout it, the most beautiful decorations and most delicious supper are\nas flat as a fallen souffl\u00e9. You cannot give a ball or a dance that is\nanything but a dull promenade if you have dull music.\n\nTo illustrate the importance that prominent hostesses attach to music: a\ncertain orchestra in New York to-day is forced to dash almost daily, not\nalone from party to party, but from city to city. Time and again its\nleader has conducted the music at a noon wedding in Philadelphia, and a\nball in Boston; or a dancing tea in Providence and a ball that evening in\nNew York; because Boston, Providence, New York and Philadelphia hostesses\nall at the present moment clamor for this one especial orchestra. The men\nhave a little more respite than the leader since it is his \"leading\" that\nevery one insists upon. Tomorrow another orchestra will probably make the\ndaily tour of various cities' ballrooms.\n\nAt all balls, there must be two orchestras, so that each time one finishes\nplaying the other begins. At very dignified private balls, dancers should\nnot stand in the middle of the floor and clap as they do in a dance hall\nor cabaret if the music ends. On the other hand, the music should not end.\n\nHaving secured the music and engaged the ballroom, reception rooms,\ndressing-rooms and smoking-room, as well as the main restaurant (after it\nis closed to the public), the hostess next makes out her list and orders\nand sends out her invitations.\n\n\n=INVITATIONS=\n\nThe fundamental difference between a ball and a dance is that people of\nall ages are asked to a ball, while only those of approximately one age\nare asked to a dance. Once in a while a ball is given to which the hostess\ninvites every person on her visiting list. Mr. and Mrs. Titherington de\nPuyster give one every season, which although a credit to their intentions\nis seldom a credit to their sense of beauty!\n\nSnobbish as it sounds and _is_, a brilliant ball is necessarily a\ncollection of brilliantly fashionable people, and the hostess who gathers\nin all the oddly assorted frumps on the outskirts of society cannot expect\nto achieve a very distinguished result.\n\nBall invitations properly include all of the personal friends of the\nhostess no matter what their age, and all her better-known social\nacquaintances--meaning every one she would be likely to invite to a formal\ndinner. She does not usually invite a lady with whom she may work on a\ncharitable committee, even though she may know her well, and like her. The\nquestion as to whether an outsider may be invited is not a matter of a\nhostess' own inclination so much as a question whether the \"outsider\"\nwould be agreeable to all the \"insiders\" who are coming. If the co-worker\nis in everything a lady and a fitting ornament to society, the hostess\nmight very possibly ask her.\n\nIf the ball to be given is for a d\u00e9butante, all the d\u00e9butantes whose\nmothers are on the \"general visiting list\" are asked as well as all young\ndancing men in these same families. In other words the children of all\nthose whose names are on the general visiting list of a hostess are\nselected to receive invitations, but the parents on whose standing the\ndaughters and sons are asked, are rarely invited.\n\n\n_When a List is Borrowed_\n\nA lady who has a d\u00e9butante daughter, but who has not given any general\nparties for years--or ever, and whose daughter, having been away at\nboarding-school or abroad, has therefore very few acquaintances of her\nown, must necessarily in sending out invitations to a ball take the list\nof young girls and men from a friend or a member of her family. This of\ncourse could only be done by a hostess whose position is unquestioned, but\nhaving had no occasion to keep a young people's list, she has not the\nleast idea who the young people of the moment are, and takes a short-cut\nas above. Otherwise she would send invitations to children of ten and\nspinsters of forty, trusting to their being of suitable age.\n\nTo take a family or intimate friend's list is also important to the\nunaccustomed hostess, because to leave out any of the younger set who\n\"belong\" in the groups which are included, is not the way to make a party\na success. Those who don't find their friends go home, or stay and are\nbored, and the whole party sags in consequence. So that if a hostess\nknows the parents personally of, let us say, eighty per cent. of young\nsociety, she can quite properly include the twenty per cent. she does not\nknow, so that the hundred per cent. can come together. In a small\ncommunity it is rather cruel to leave out any of the young people whose\nfriends are all invited. In a very great city on the other hand, an\nhabitual hostess does not ask any to her house whom she does not know, but\nshe can of course be as generous as she chooses in allowing young people\nto have invitations for friends.\n\n\n_Asking for an Invitation to a Ball_\n\nIt is always permissible to ask a hostess if you may \"bring\" a dancing man\nwho is a stranger to her. It is rather difficult to ask for an invitation\nfor an extra girl, and still more difficult to ask for older people,\nbecause the hostess has no ground on which she can refuse without being\nrude; she can't say there is no room since no dance is really limited, and\nleast of all a ball. Men who dance are always an asset, and the more the\nbetter; but a strange young girl hung around the neck of the hostess is\nabout as welcome as a fog at a garden party. If the girl is to be brought\nand \"looked after\" by the lady asking for the invitation--who has herself\nbeen already invited--that is another matter, and the hostess can not well\nobject. Or if the young girl is the fianc\u00e9e of the man whose mother asks\nfor the invitation, that is all right too; since he will undoubtedly come\nwith her and see that she is not left alone. Invitations for older people\nare never asked for unless they are rather distinguished strangers and\nunquestionably suitable.\n\nInvitations are never asked for persons whom the hostess already knows,\nsince if she had cared to invite them she would have done so. It is,\nhowever, not at all out of the way for an intimate friend to remind her of\nsome one who in receiving no invitation has more than likely been\noverlooked. If the omission was intentional, nothing need be said; if it\nwas an oversight, the hostess is very glad to repair her forgetfulness.\n\n\n_Invitations for Strangers_\n\nAn invitation that has been asked for a stranger is sent direct and\nwithout comment. For instance, when the Greatlakes of Chicago came to New\nYork for a few weeks, Mrs. Norman asked both Mrs. Worldly and Mrs. Gilding\nto send them invitations; one to a musicale and the other to a ball. The\nGreatlakes received these invitations without Mrs. Norman's card enclosed\nor any other word of explanation, as it was taken for granted that Mrs.\nNorman would tell the Greatlakes that it was through her that the\ninvitations were sent. The Greatlakes said \"Thank you very much for asking\nus\" when they bid their hostess good night, and they also left their cards\nimmediately on the Worldlys and Gildings after the parties--but it was\nalso the duty of Mrs. Norman to thank both hostesses--verbally--for\nsending the invitations.\n\n\n=DECORATIONS=\n\nSo far as good taste is concerned, the decorations for a ball cannot be\ntoo lavish or beautiful. To be sure they should not be lavish if one's\npurse is limited, but if one's purse is really limited, one should not\ngive a ball! A small dance or a dancing tea would be more suitable.\n\nBall decorations have on occasions been literally astounding, but as a\nrule no elaboration is undertaken other than hanging greens and flowers\nover the edge of the gallery, if there is a gallery, banking palms in\ncorners, and putting up sheaves of flowers or trailing vines wherever most\neffective. In any event the hostess consults her florist, but if the\ndecorations are to be very important, an architect or an artist is put in\ncharge, with a florist under him.\n\n\n=THE BALL BEAUTIFUL=\n\nCertain sounds, perfumes, places, always bring associated pictures to\nmind: Restaurant suppers; Paris! Distinguished-looking audiences; London!\nThe essence of charm in society; Rome! Beguiling and informal joyousness;\nSan Francisco! Recklessness; Colorado Springs! The afternoon visit;\nWashington! Hectic and splendid gaiety; New York! Beautiful balls; Boston!\n\nThere are three reasons (probably more) why the balls in Boston have what\ncan be described only by the word \"quality.\" The word \"elegance\" before it\nwas misused out of existence expressed it even better.\n\nFirst: Best Society in Boston having kept its social walls intact,\ngranting admission only to those of birth and breeding, has therefore\npreserved a quality of unmistakable cultivation. There are undoubtedly\nother cities, especially in the South, which have also kept their walls up\nand their traditions intact--but Boston has been the wise virgin as well,\nand has kept her lamp filled.\n\nSecond: Boston hostesses of position have never failed to demand of those\nwho would remain on their lists, strict obedience to the tenets of\nceremonies and dignified behavior; nor ceased themselves to cultivate\nsomething of the \"grand manner\" that should be the birthright of every\nthoroughbred lady and gentleman.\n\nThird: Boston's older ladies and gentlemen always dance at balls, and they\nneither rock around the floor, nor take their dancing violently. And the\nfact that older ladies of distinction dance with dignity, has an\ninevitable effect upon younger ones, so that at balls at least, dancing\nhas not degenerated into gymnastics or contortions.\n\nThe extreme reverse of a \"smart\" Boston ball is one--no matter\nwhere--which has a roomful of people who deport themselves abominably, who\ngreet each other by waving their arms aloft, who dance like Apaches or\njiggling music-box figures, and who scarcely suggest an assemblage of even\ndecent--let alone well-bred--people.\n\n\n=SUPPER=\n\nA sit-down supper that is served continuously for two or three hours, is\nthe most elaborate ball supper. Next in importance is the sit-down supper\nat a set time. Third, the buffet supper which is served at dances but not\nat balls.\n\nAt the most fashionable New York balls, supper service begins at one and\ncontinues until three and people go when they feel like it. The\nrestaurant is closed to the public at one o'clock; the entrance is then\ncurtained or shut off from the rest of the hotel. The tables are decorated\nwith flowers and the supper service opened for the ball guests. Guests sit\nwhere they please, either \"making up a table,\" or a man and his partner\nfinding a place wherever there are two vacant chairs. At a private ball\nguests do not pay for anything or sign supper checks, or tip the waiter,\nsince the restaurant is for the time being the private dining-room of the\nhost and hostess.\n\nAt a sit-down supper at a set hour, the choice of menu is unlimited, but\nsuppers are never as elaborate now as they used to be. Years ago few balls\nwere given without terrapin, and a supper without champagne was as unheard\nof. In fact, champagne was the heaviest item of expenditure always.\nDecorations might be very limited, but champagne was as essential as\nmusic! Cotillion favors were also an important item which no longer\nexists; and champagne has gone its way with nectar, to the land of fable,\nso that if you eliminate elaborate decorations, ball-giving is not half\nthe expense it used to be.\n\n\n=FOR A SIT-DOWN SUPPER THAT IS CONTINUOUS=\n\nWhen the service of supper continues for several hours, it is necessary to\nselect food that can be kept hot indefinitely without being spoiled. Birds\nor broiled chicken, which should be eaten the moment they are cooked, are\ntherefore unsuitable. Dishes prepared in sauce keep best, such as lobster\nNewburg, sweetbreads and mushrooms, chicken \u00e0 la King, or creamed oysters.\nP\u00e2t\u00e9s are satisfactory as the shells can be heated in a moment and hot\ncreamed chicken or oysters poured in. Of course all cold dishes and salads\ncan stand in the pantry or on a buffet table all evening.\n\nThe menu for supper at a ball is entirely a matter of the hostess'\nselection, but whether it is served at one time or continuously, the\nsupper menu at an important ball includes:\n\n1. Bouillon or green turtle (clear) in cups.\n\n2. Lobster a la Newburg (or terrapin or oyster p\u00e2t\u00e9 or another hot dish of\nshell-fish or fowl).\n\n3. A second choice hot dish of some sort, squab, chicken and peas (if\nsupper is served at a special hour) or croquettes and peas if continuous.\n\n4. Salad, which includes every variety known, with or without an aspic.\n\n5. Individual ices, fancy cakes.\n\n6. Black coffee in little cups.\n\nBreakfast served at about four in the morning and consisting of scrambled\neggs with sausages or bacon and breakfast coffee and rolls is an\noccasional custom at both dances and balls.\n\nThere is always an enormous glass bowl of punch or orangeade--sometimes\ntwo or three bowls each containing a different iced drink--in a room\nadjoining the ballroom. And in very cold climates it is the thoughtful\ncustom of some hostesses to have a cup of hot chocolate or bouillon\noffered each departing guest. This is an especially welcome attention to\nthose who have a long drive home.\n\n\n=A DANCE=\n\nA dance is merely a ball on a smaller scale, fewer people are asked to it\nand it has usually, but not necessarily, simpler decorations.\n\nBut the real difference is that invitations to balls always include older\npeople--as many if not more than younger ones--whereas invitations to a\ndance for a d\u00e9butante, for instance, include none but very young girls,\nyoung men and the merest handful of the hostess' most intimate friends.\n\nSupper may equally be a simple buffet or an elaborate sit-down one,\ndepending upon the size and type of the house.\n\nOr a dance may equally well as a ball be given in the \"banquet\" or smaller\nballroom of a hotel, or in the assembly or ballroom of a club.\n\nA formal dance differs from an informal one merely in elaboration, and in\nwhether the majority of those present are strangers to one another; a\nreally informal dance is one to which only those who know one another well\nare invited.\n\n\n=DETAILS OF PREPARATION FOR A BALL OR DANCE IN A PRIVATE HOUSE=\n\nThere is always an awning and a red carpet down the steps (or up), and a\nchauffeur to open the carriage doors and a policeman or detective to see\nthat strangers do not walk uninvited into the house. If there is a great\ncrush, there is a detective in the hall to \"investigate\" anyone who does\nnot have himself announced to the hostess.\n\nAll the necessary appurtenances such as awning, red carpet, coat hanging\nracks, ballroom chairs, as well as crockery, glass, napkins, waiters and\nfood are supplied by hotels or caterers. (Excepting in houses like the\nGildings,' where footmen's liveries are kept purposely, the caterer's men\nare never in footmen's liveries.)\n\nUnless a house has a ballroom the room selected for dancing must have all\nthe furniture moved out of it; and if there are adjoining rooms and the\ndancing room is not especially big, it adds considerably to the floor\nspace to put no chairs around it. Those who dance seldom sit around a\nballroom anyway, and the more informal grouping of chairs in the hall or\nlibrary is a better arrangement than the wainscot row or wall-flower\nexposition grounds. The floor, it goes without saying, must be smooth and\nwaxed, and no one should attempt to give a dance whose house is not big\nenough.\n\n\n=ETIQUETTE IN THE BALLROOM=\n\nNew York's invitations are usually for \"ten o'clock\" but first guests do\nnot appear before ten-thirty and most people arrive at about eleven or\nafter. The hostess, however, must be ready to receive on the stroke of the\nhour specified in her invitations, and the d\u00e9butante or any one the ball\nmay be given for, must also be with her.\n\nIt is not customary to put the d\u00e9butante's name on the formal \"At Home\"\ninvitation, and it is even occasionally omitted on invitations that\n\"request the pleasure of ----\" so that the only way acquaintances can know\nthe ball is being given for the daughter is by seeing her standing beside\nher mother.\n\n              Mr. & Mrs. Robert Gilding\n\n               request the pleasure of\n\n            [Name of guest is written here]\n\n    company on Tuesday, the twenty-seventh of December\n\n                   at ten o'clock\n\n                 at the Fitz-Cherry\n\n    Dancing                         R.s.v.p.\n                                    Twenty-three East Laurel Street\n\nThe hostess never leaves her post, wherever it is she is standing, until\nshe goes to supper. If, as at the Ritz in New York, the ballroom opens on\na foyer at the head of a stairway, the hostess always receives at this\nplace. In a private house where guests go up in an elevator to the\ndressing rooms, and then walk down to the ballroom floor, the hostess\nreceives either at the foot of the stairway, or just outside the ballroom.\n\n\n=THE HOSTESS AT A BALL=\n\nGuests arriving are announced, as at a dinner or afternoon tea, and after\nshaking hands with the hostess, they must pass on into the ballroom. It is\nnot etiquette to linger beside the hostess for more than a moment,\nespecially if later arrivals are being announced. A stranger ought never\ngo to a ball alone, as the hostess is powerless to \"look after\" any\nespecial guests; her duty being to stand in one precise place and receive.\nA stranger who is a particular friend of the hostess would be looked after\nby the host; but a stranger who is invited through another guest should be\nlooked after by that other.\n\nA gentleman who has received an invitation through a friend is usually\naccompanied by the friend who presents him. Otherwise when the butler\nannounces him to the hostess, he bows, and says \"Mrs. Norman asked you if\nI might come.\" And the hostess shakes hands and says \"How do you do, I am\nvery glad to see you.\" If other young men or any young girls are standing\nnear, the hostess very likely introduces him. Otherwise, if he knows no\none, he waits among the stags until his own particular sponsor appears.\n\nAfter supper, when she is no longer receiving, the hostess is free to talk\nwith her friends and give her attention to the roomful of young people who\nare actually in her charge.\n\nWhen her guests leave she does not go back to where she received, but\nstands wherever she happens to be, shakes hands and says \"Good night.\"\nThere is one occasion when it is better not to bid one's hostess good\nnight, and that is, if one finds her party dull and leaves again\nimmediately; in this one case it is more polite to slip away so as to\nattract the least attention possible, but late in the evening it is\ninexcusably ill mannered not to find her and say \"Good night\" and \"Thank\nyou.\"\n\nThe duty of seeing that guests are looked after, that shy youths are\npresented to partners, that shyer girls are not left on the far\nwall-flower outposts, that the dowagers are taken in to supper, and that\nthe elderly gentlemen are provided with good cigars in the smoking-room,\nfalls to the host and his son or son-in-law, or any other near male member\nof the family.\n\n\n=MASQUERADE VOUCHERS=\n\nVouchers or tickets of admission like those sent with invitations to\nassembly or public balls should be enclosed in invitations to a\nmasquerade; it would be too easy otherwise for dishonest or other\nundesirable persons to gain admittance. If vouchers are not sent with the\ninvitations, or better yet, mailed afterwards to all those who have\naccepted, it is necessary that the hostess receive her guests singly in a\nsmall private room and request each to unmask before her.\n\n\n=HOW TO WALK ACROSS A BALLROOM=\n\nIf you analyze the precepts laid down by etiquette you will find that for\neach there is a perfectly good reason. Years ago a lady never walked\nacross a ballroom floor without the support of a gentleman's arm, which\nwas much easier than walking alone across a very slippery surface in\nhigh-heeled slippers. When the late Ward McAllister classified New York\nsociety as having four hundred people who were \"at ease in a ballroom,\" he\nindicated that the ballroom was the test of the best manners. He also said\nat a dinner--after his book was published and the country had already made\nNew York's \"Four Hundred\" a theme for cartoons and jests--that among the\n\"Four hundred who were at ease,\" not more than ten could gracefully cross\na ballroom floor alone. If his ghost is haunting the ballrooms of our\ntime, it is certain the number is still further reduced. The athletic\nyoung woman of to-day strides across the ballroom floor as though she were\non the golf course; the happy-go-lucky one ambles--shoulders stooped, arms\nswinging, hips and head in advance of chest; others trot, others shuffle,\nothers make a rush for it. The young girl who could walk across a room\nwith the consummate grace of Mrs. Oldname (who as a girl of eighteen was\none of Mr. McAllister's ten) would have to be very assiduously sought for.\n\nHow does Mrs. Oldname walk? One might answer by describing how Pavlowa\ndances. Her body is perfectly balanced, she holds herself straight, and\nyet in nothing suggests a ramrod. She takes steps of medium length, and,\nlike all people who move and dance well, walks from the hip, not the knee.\nOn no account does she swing her arms, nor does she rest a hand on her\nhip! Nor when walking, does she wave her hands about in gesticulation.\n\nSome one asked her if she had ever been _taught_ to cross a ballroom\nfloor. As a matter of fact, she had. Her grandmother, who was a Toplofty,\nmade all her grandchildren walk daily across a polished floor with\nsand-bags on their heads. And the old lady directed the drill herself. No\nshuffling of feet and no stamping, either; no waggling of hips, no\nswinging of arms, and not a shoulder stooped. Furthermore, they were\ntaught to enter a room and to sit for an indefinite period in\nself-effacing silence while their elders were talking.\n\nOlder gentlemen still give their arms to older ladies in all \"promenading\"\nat a ball, since the customs of a lifetime are not broken by one short and\nmodern generation. Those of to-day walk side by side, except in going down\nto supper when supper is at a set hour.\n\nAt public balls when there is a grand march, ladies take gentlemen's arms.\n\n\n=DISTINCTION VANISHED WITH COTILLION=\n\nThe glittering display of tinsel satin favors that used to be the featured\nand gayest decoration of every ballroom, is gone; the cotillion leader,\nhis hands full of \"seat checks,\" his manners a cross between those of Lord\nChesterfield and a traffic policeman, is gone; and much of the distinction\nthat used to be characteristic of the ballroom is gone with the cotillion.\nThere is no question that a cotillion was prettier to look at than a mob\nscene of dancers crowding each other for every few inches of progress.\n\nThe reason why cotillions were conducive to good manners was that people\nwere on exhibition, where now they are unnoticed components of a general\ncrowd. When only a sixth, at most, of those in the room danced while\nothers had nothing to do but watch them, it was only natural that those\n\"on exhibition\" should dance as well as they possibly could, and since\ntheir walking across the room and asking others to dance by \"offering a\nfavor\" was also watched, grace of deportment and correct manners were not\nlikely to deteriorate, either.\n\nThe cotillion was detested and finally banned by the majority who wanted\nto dance ceaselessly throughout the evening. But it was of particular\nadvantage to the very young girl who did not know many men, as well as to\nwhat might be called the helpless type. Each young girl, if she had a\npartner, had a place where she belonged and where she sat throughout the\nevening. And since no couple could dance longer than the few moments\nallowed by the \"figure,\" there was no chance of anyone's being \"stuck\"; so\nthat the average girl had a better chance of being asked to dance than\nnow--when, without programmes, and without cotillions, there is nothing to\nrelieve the permanency of a young man's attachment to an unknown young\ngirl once he asks her to dance.\n\n\n=THE ORDEAL BY BALLROOM=\n\nInstead of being easier, it would seem that time makes it increasingly\ndifficult for any but distinct successes to survive the ordeal by\nballroom. Years ago a d\u00e9butante was supposed to flutter into society in\nthe shadow of mamma's protecting amplitude; to-day she is packed off by\nherself and with nothing to relieve her dependence upon whoever may come\nnear her. To liken a charming young girl in the prettiest of frocks to a\nspider is not very courteous; and yet the r\u00f4le of spider is what she is\nforced by the exigencies of ballroom etiquette to play. She _must_ catch a\nfly, meaning a trousered companion, so as not to be left in placarded\ndisgrace; and having caught him she must hang on to him until another\ntakes his place.\n\nThere should be drastic revision of ballroom customs. There is a desperate\nneed of what in local dancing classes was called the \"Dump,\" where without\nrudeness a gentleman could leave a lady as soon as they had finished\ndancing.\n\nThere used to be a chaperon into whose care a young girl could be\ncommitted; there used to be the \"dance card\", or programme (still in vogue\nat public balls) that allotted a certain dance to a certain gentleman and\nlady equally. There used to be the cotillion which, while cruel, at least\ncommitted its acts of cruelty with merciful dispatch. When the cotillion\nbegan, the girl who had no partner--went home. She had to. Now, once she\nhas acquired a companion, he is planted beside her until another takes his\nplace. It is this fact and no other which is responsible for the dread\nthat the average young girl feels in facing the ordeal of a ballroom, and\nfor the discourteous unconcern shown by dancing men who under other\nconditions would be friendly.\n\nThe situation of a young girl, left cruelly alone, draws its own picture,\nbut the reason for the callous and ill-mannered behavior of the average\ndancing man, may perhaps need a word of explanation.\n\nFor instance: Jim Smartlington, when he was a senior at college, came down\nto the Toploftys' ball on purpose to see Mary Smith. Very early, before\nMary arrived, he saw a Miss Blank, a girl he had met at a dinner in\nProvidence, standing at the entrance of the room. Following a casual\nimpulse of friendliness he asked her to dance. She danced badly. No one\n\"cut in\" and they danced and danced, sat down and danced again. Mary\narrived. Jim walked Miss Blank near the \"stag\" line and introduced several\nmen, who bowed and slid out of sight with the dexterity of eels who\nrecognized a hook. From half-past ten until supper at half-past one, Jim\nwas \"planted.\" He was then forced to tell her he had a partner for supper,\nand left her at the door of the dressing-room. There was no other place to\n\"leave her.\" He felt like a brute and a cad, even though he had waited\nnearly three hours before being able to speak to the girl he had come\npurposely to see.\n\nThere really is something to be said on the man's side; especially on that\nof one who has to get up early in the morning and who, only intending to\nsee one or two particular friends and then go home, is forced because of\nan impulse of courtesy not only to spend an endless and exhausting\nevening, but to be utterly unfit for his work next day.\n\nOne is equally sorry for the girl! But in the example above her stupid\nhandling of the situation not only spoiled one well-intentioned man's\nevening, but completely \"finished\" herself so far as her future chances\nfor success were concerned. Not alone her partner but every brother-stag\nwho stood in the doorway mentally placarded her \"Keep off.\" It is\nsuicidal for a girl to make any man spend an entire evening with her. If\nat the end of two dances, there is no intimate friend she can signal to,\nor an older lady she can insist on being left with, she should go home;\nand if the same thing happens several times, she should not go to balls.\n\nFor the reasons given above, there is little that a hostess or host can\ndo, unless a promise of \"release\" is held out, and that in itself is a\ndeplorable situation; a humiliation that no young girl's name should be\nsubmitted to. And yet there it is! It is only necessary for a hostess to\nsay \"I want to introduce you to a charming----\" And she is already speaking\nto the air.\n\nBoston hostesses solve the problem of a young girl's success in a ballroom\nin a way unknown in New York, by having ushers.\n\n\n=USHERS=\n\nEach hostess chooses from among the best known young men in society, who\nhave perfect address and tact, a number to act as ushers. They are\ndistinguished by white boutonni\u00e8res, like those worn by ushers at a\nwedding, and they are deputy hosts. It is their duty to see that\nwall-flowers are not left decorating the seats in the ballroom and it is\nalso their duty to relieve a partner who has too long been planted beside\nthe same \"rosebud.\"\n\nThe ushers themselves have little chance to follow their own inclinations,\nand unless the \"honor\" of being chosen by a prominent hostess has some\nmeasure of compensation, the appointment--since it may not be refused--is\na doubtful pleasure. An usher has the right to introduce anyone to anyone\nwithout knowing either principal personally and without asking any lady's\npermission. He may also ask a lady (if he has a moment to himself) to\ndance with him, whether he has ever met her or not, and he can also leave\nher promptly, because any \"stag\" called upon by an usher must dance. The\nusher in turn must release every \"stag\" he calls upon by substituting\nanother; and the second by a third and so on. In order to make a ball\n\"go,\" meaning to keep everyone dancing, the ushers have on occasions to\nspend the entire evening in relief work.\n\nAt a ball where there are ushers, a girl standing or sitting alone would\nat once be rescued by one of them, and a rotation of partners presented to\nher. If she is \"hopeless\"--meaning neither pretty nor attractive nor a\ngood dancer--even the ushers are in time forced to relieve her partners\nand take her to a dowager friend of the hostess, beside whom she will be\nobliged to sit until she learns that she must seek her popularity\notherwhere than at balls.\n\nOn the other hand, on an occasion when none of her friends happen to be\npresent, the greatest belle of the year can spend an equally deadly\nevening.\n\n\n=THE DANCE PROGRAM=\n\nThe program or dance-card of public balls and college class dances, has\nundeniable advantages. A girl can give as many dances as she chooses to\nwhomever she chooses; and a man can be sure of having not only many but\nuninterrupted dances with the one he most wants to be with--provided \"she\"\nis willing. Why the dance-card is unheard of at private balls in New York\nis hard to determine, except that fashionable society does not care to\ntake its pleasure on schedule! The gilded youth likes to dance when the\nimpulse moves him; he also likes to be able to stay or leave when he\npleases. In New York there are often two or three dances given on the same\nevening, and he likes to drift from one to the other just as he likes to\ndrift from one partner to another, or not dance at all if he does not want\nto. A man who writes himself down for the tenth jazz must be eagerly\nappearing on the stroke of the first bar. Or if he does not engage his\npartners busily at the opening of the evening, he can not dance at all--he\nmay not want to, but he hates not being able to.\n\nSo again we come back to the present situation and the problem of the\naverage young girl whose right it is, because of her youth and sweetness,\nto be happy and young--and not to be terrified, wretched and neglected.\nThe one and only solution seems to be for her to join a group.\n\n\n=THE FLOCK-SYSTEM OF THE WISE FLEDGLINGS=\n\nIf a number of young girls and young men come together--better yet, if\nthey go everywhere together, always sit in a flock, always go to supper\ntogether, always dance with one another--they not only have a good time\nbut they are sure to be popular with drifting odd men also. If a man knows\nthat having asked a girl to dance, one of her group will inevitably \"cut\nin,\" he is eager to dance with her. Or if he can take her \"to the others\"\nwhen they have danced long enough, he is not only delighted to be with her\nfor a while but to sit with her \"and the others\" off and on throughout\nthat and every other evening, because since there are always \"some of them\ntogether\" he can go again the moment he chooses.\n\nCertain groups of clever girls sit in precisely the same place in a\nballroom, to the right of the door, or the left, or in a corner. One might\nalmost say they form a little club; they dance as much as they like, but\ncome back \"home\" between whiles. They all go to supper together, and\nwhether individuals have partners or not is scarcely noticeable, nor even\nknown by themselves.\n\nNo young girl, unless she is a marked favorite, should ever go to a ball\nalone. If her especial \"flock\" has not as yet been systematized, she must\ngo to a dinner before every dance, so as to go, and stay, with a group. If\nshe is not asked to dinner, her mother must give one for her; or she must\nhave at least one dependable beau--or better, two--who will wait for her\nand look out for her.\n\n\n=MAID GOES WITH HER=\n\nA young girl who goes to a ball without a chaperon (meaning of course a\nprivate ball), takes a maid with her who sits in the dressing-room the\nentire evening. Not only is it thought proper to have a maid waiting, but\nnothing can add more to the panic of a partnerless girl than to feel she\nhas not even a means of escape by going home; she can always call a taxi\nas long as her maid is with her, and go. Otherwise she either has to stay\nin the ballroom or sit forlorn among the visiting maids in the\ndressing-room.\n\n\n=WHAT MAKES A YOUNG GIRL A BALLROOM SUCCESS=\n\nMuch of the above is so pessimistic one might suppose that a ballroom is\nalways a chamber of torture and the young girl taken as an example above,\na very drab and distorted caricature of what \"a real young girl\" should be\nand is. But remember, the young girl who is a \"belle of the ballroom\"\nneeds no advice on how to manage a happy situation; no thought spent on\nhow to make a perfect time better. The ballroom is the most wonderful\nstage-setting there is for the girl who is a ballroom success. And for\nthis, especial talents are needed just as they are for art or sport or any\nother accomplishment.\n\nThe great ballroom success, first and foremost, dances well. Almost always\nshe is pretty. Beauty counts enormously at a ball. The girl who is\nbeautiful and dances well is, of course, the ideal ballroom belle.\nBut--this for encouragement--these qualities can in a measure at least be\nacquired. All things being more or less equal, the girl who dances best\nhas the most partners. Let a daughter of Venus or the heiress of Midas\ndance badly, and she might better stay at home.\n\nTo dance divinely is an immortal gift, but to dance well can (except in\nobstinate cases, as the advertisements say) be taught. Let us suppose\ntherefore, that she dances well, that she has a certain degree of looks,\nthat she is fairly intelligent. The next most important thing, after\ndancing well, is to be unafraid, and to look as though she were having a\ngood time. Conversational cleverness is of no account in a ballroom; some\nof the greatest belles ever known have been as stupid as sheep, but they\nhave had happy dispositions and charming and un-self-conscious manners.\nThere is one thing every girl who would really be popular should learn, in\nfact, she must learn--self-unconsciousness! The best advice might be to\nfollow somewhat the precepts of mental science and make herself believe\nthat a good time exists in her own mind. If she can become possessed with\nthe idea that she is having a good time and look as though she were, the\npsychological effect is astonishing.\n\n\n=\"CUTTING IN\"=\n\nWhen one of the \"stags\" standing in the doorway sees a girl dance past\nwhom he wants to dance with, he darts forward, lays his hand on the\nshoulder of her partner, who relinquishes his place in favor of the\nnewcomer, and a third in turn does the same to him. Or, the one, who was\nfirst dancing with her, may \"cut in on\" the partner who took her from him,\nafter she has danced once around the ballroom. This seemingly far from\npolite maneuver, is considered correct behavior in best society in Boston,\nNew York, Philadelphia, Buffalo, Pittsburgh, Chicago, San Francisco, and\ntherefore most likely in all parts of America. (Not in London, nor on the\nContinent.)\n\nAt dances organized during the War in the canteens for soldiers and\nsailors on furlough, the men refused to \"cut in\" because they thought it\nwas rude and undoubtedly it is, except that custom has made it acceptable.\nIf, however, it still seems \"rude\" to the young men of Othertown to \"cut\nin,\" then they should not do so.\n\n\n=SITTING OUT DANCES=\n\nOn the other hand, if a girl is sitting in another room, or on the stairs\nwith a man alone, a second one should not interrupt, or ask her to dance.\nIf she is sitting in a group, he can go up and ask her, \"Don't you want to\ndance some of this?\" She then either smiles and says, \"Not just now--I am\nvery tired,\" or if she likes him, she may add, \"Come and sit with us!\"\n\nTo refuse to dance with one man and then immediately dance with another is\nan open affront to the first one--excusable only if he was intoxicated or\notherwise actually offensive so that the affront was both intentional and\njustifiable. But under ordinary circumstances, if she is \"dancing,\" she\nmust dance with everyone who asks her; if she is \"not dancing,\" she must\nnot make exceptions.\n\nAn older lady can very properly refuse to dance and then perhaps dance\nbriefly with her son or husband, without hurting her guest's proper pride,\nbut having refused to dance with one gentleman she must not change her\nmind and dance later with another.\n\nA young girl who is dancing may not refuse to change partners when another\n\"cuts in.\" This is the worst phase of the \"cutting in\" custom; those who\nparticularly want to dance together are often unable to take more than a\ndozen steps before being interrupted. Once in a while a girl will shake\nher head \"No\" to a \"stag\" who darts toward her. But that is considered\nrude. A few others have devised dancing with their eyes shut as a signal\nthat they do not want to be \"cut in on.\" But this is neither customary nor\neven a generally known practise.\n\nIt is always the privilege of the girl to stop dancing; a man is supposed\nto dance on and on, until she--or the music--stops.\n\n\n=ASKING FOR A DANCE=\n\nWhen a gentleman is introduced to a lady he says, \"May I have some of\nthis?\" or \"Would you care to dance?\"\n\nA lady never asks a gentleman to dance, or to go to supper with her,\nthough she may if she is older, or if she is a young girl who is one of a\n\"flock,\" she may say \"Come and sit at our table!\" This however would not\nimply that in sitting at \"their\" table he is supposed to sit next to her.\n\nIn asking a lady to go to supper, a gentleman should say \"Will you go to\nsupper with me?\" Or \"May I take you to supper?\" He should never say, \"Have\nyou a partner?\" as she is put in an awkward position in having to admit\nthat she has none.\n\n\n=A BALL IS NOT A DANCING SCHOOL=\n\nSince a girl may not without rudeness refuse to dance with a man who \"cuts\nin,\" a man who does not know how to dance is inexcusably inconsiderate if\nhe \"cuts in\" on a good dancer and compels a young girl to become\ninstructress for his own pleasure with utter disregard of hers. If at\nhome, or elsewhere, a young girl volunteers to \"teach\" him, that is\nanother matter, but even so, the ballroom is no place to practise--unless\nhe is very sure that his dancing is not so bad as to be an imposition on\nhis teacher.\n\n[Illustration: THE MOST ELABORATE DINNER-DANCE EVER GIVEN IN NEW YORK\n\n\"The scene represents the palace and garden at Versailles. There were only\nfour tables. Singers appeared on the balcony during dinner, other\nperformers danced, sang and juggled on the pathways. After the dinner the\npathways of grass were taken up to permit dancing by the guests.\" [Page\n271.]]\n\n\n=NOVELTIES AND INNOVATIONS=\n\nFormal occasions demand strict conventions. At an important wedding, at a\ndinner of ceremony, at a ball, it is not only bad form but shocking to\ndeviate from accepted standards of formality. \"Surprize\" is an element\nthat must be avoided on all dignified occasions. Those therefore, who\nthink it would be original and pleasing to spring surprizes on their\nguests at an otherwise conventional and formal entertainment, should save\ntheir ideas for a children's party where surprizes not only belong, but\nare delightedly appreciated. To be sure, one might perhaps consider that\nscenic effects or unusual diversions, such as one sees at a costume ball\nor a \"period\" dinner, belong under the head of \"surprize.\" But in the\nfirst place such entertainments are not conventional; and in the second,\ndetails that are in accordance with the period or design of the ball or\ndinner are \"conventions\" after all.\n\nOn the other hand, in the country especially, nothing can be more fun or\nmore appropriate than a barn dance, or an impromptu play, or a calico\nmasquerade, with properties and clothes made of any old thing and in a few\nhours--even in a few minutes.\n\nMusic need not be an orchestra but it must be good, and the floor must be\nadequate and smooth. The supper is of secondary importance. As for\nmanners, even though they may be \"unrestrained,\" they can be meticulously\nperfect for all that! There is no more excuse for rude or careless or\nselfish behavior at a picnic than at a ball.\n\n\n=PUBLIC BALLS=\n\nA public ball is a ball given for a benefit or charity. A committee makes\nthe arrangements and tickets are sold to the public, either by being put\non sale at hotels or at the house of the secretary of the committee. A\nyoung girl of social position does not go to a public ball without a\nchaperon. To go in the company of one or more gentlemen would be an\nunheard-of breach of propriety.\n\n\n=SUBSCRIPTION DANCES AND BALLS=\n\nThese are often of greater importance in a community than any number of\nits private balls. In Boston and Philadelphia for instance, a person's\nsocial standing is dependent upon whether or not she or he is \"invited to\nthe Assemblies.\" The same was once true in New York when the Patriarch and\nAssembly Balls were the dominating entertainments. In Baltimore too, a\nman's social standing is non-existent if he does not belong to the \"Monday\nGermans,\" and in many other cities membership in the subscription dances\nor dancing classes or sewing circles distinctly draws the line between the\ninside somebodies and the outside nobodies.\n\nSubscription dances such as these are managed and all invitations are\nissued by patronesses who are always ladies of unquestioned social\nprominence. Usually these patronesses are elected for life, or at least\nfor a long period of years. When for one reason or another a vacancy\noccurs, a new member is elected by the others to fill her place. No\noutsider may ever ask to become a member. Usually a number of names are\nsuggested and voted on at a meeting, and whoever wins the highest number\nof votes is elected.\n\nThe expenses of balls such as Assemblies, are borne by the patronesses\ncollectively, but other types of dances are paid for by subscribers who\nare invited to \"take tickets\"--as will be explained.\n\n\n_How Subscription Dances Are Organized_\n\nWhether in city, town or village, the organization is the same: A small\ngroup of important ladies decide that it would be agreeable to have two or\nthree balls--or maybe only one--a season. This original group then\nsuggests additional names until they have all agreed upon a list\nsufficient in size to form a nucleus. These then are invited to join, and\nall of them at another meeting decide on the final size of the list and\nwhom it is to include. The list may be a hundred, or it may stay at the\noriginal group of a half dozen or so. Let us for example say the complete\nlist is fifty. Fifty ladies, therefore, the most prominent possible, are\nthe patronesses or managers, or whatever they choose to call themselves.\nThey also elect a chairman, a vice-chairman, a secretary, and a treasurer.\nThey then elect seven or eight others who are to constitute the managing\ncommittee. The other thirty-eight or forty are merely \"members\" who will\npay their dues and have the right to a certain number of tickets for each\nof the balls. These tickets, by the way, are never actually sent by the\nmembers themselves, who merely submit the names of the guests they have\nchosen to the committee on invitations. This is the only practical way to\navoid duplication. Otherwise, let us say that Mrs. Oldname, Mrs. Worldly,\nMrs. Norman and Mrs. Gilding each send their two tickets to the young\nSmartlingtons, which would mean that the Smartlingtons would have to\nreturn three, and those three invitations would start off on a second\njourney perhaps to be returned again.\n\nOn the other hand, if each patroness sends in a list, the top names which\nhave not yet been entered in the \"invitation book\" are automatically\nselected, and the committee notify her to whom her invitations went.\n\nThere is also another very important reason for the sending in of every\nname to the committee: exclusiveness. Otherwise the balls would all too\neasily deteriorate into the character of public ones. Every name must be\napproved by the committee on invitations, who always hold a special\nmeeting for the purpose, so that no matter how willing a certain careless\nmember would be to include Mr. and Mrs. Unsuitable, she is powerless to\nsend them tickets if they are not approved of.\n\nAs a matter of fact there is rarely any question of withholding\ninvitations, since a serious objection would have to be sustained against\none to warrant such an action on the part of the committee.\n\n\n_Number of Invitations Issued_\n\nWith fifty members, each might perhaps be allowed, besides her own ticket,\ntwo ladies' invitations and four gentlemen's. That would make three\nhundred and fifty invitations available altogether. The founders can of\ncourse decide on whatever number they choose. Patronesses can also\nexchange tickets. One who might want to ask a double number of guests to\nthe \"First Assembly\" can arrange with another to exchange her \"Second\nAssembly\" invitations for \"First\" ones. Also it often happens that the\nentire list sent in by a member has already been included, and not wanting\nto use her tickets, she gives them to another member who may have a\nd\u00e9butante daughter and therefore be in need of extra ones.\n\nBachelor Balls (like the \"Monday Germans\" of Baltimore) are run by the\ngentlemen instead of the ladies. Otherwise they are the same as the\nAssemblies.\n\n\n_Other Forms of Subscription Dances_\n\nOther forms are somewhat different in that instead of dividing the\nexpenses between members who jointly issue invitations to few or many\nguests, the committee of ten, we will say, invites either all the men who\nare supposed to be eligible or all the young girls, to subscribe to a\ncertain number of tickets.\n\nFor instance, dances known usually as Junior Assemblies or the Holiday\nDances are organized by a group of ladies--the mothers, usually, of\nd\u00e9butantes. The members of the organization are elected just as the others\nare, for life. But they are apt after a few years, when their daughters\nare \"too old,\" to resign in favor of others whose daughters are beginning\nto be grown. The d\u00e9butantes of highest social position are invited to\nbecome members. Each one pays \"dues\" and has the privilege of asking two\nmen to each dance. Mothers are not expected to go to these dances unless\nthey are themselves patronesses. Sometimes young women go to these dances\nuntil they marry; often they are for d\u00e9butantes, but most often they are\nfor girls the year before they \"come out,\" and for boys who are in\ncollege.\n\n\n_Patronesses Receive_\n\nAt a subscription dance where patronesses take the place of a hostess,\nabout four of these ladies are especially selected by the ball committee\nto receive. They always stand in line and bow to each person who is\nannounced, but do not shake hands. The guest arriving also bows to the\nhostesses collectively (not four times). A lady, for instance, is\nannounced: she takes a few steps toward the \"receiving line\" and makes a\nslight courtesy; the ladies receiving make a courtesy in unison, and the\nguest passes on. A gentleman bows ceremoniously, the way he was taught in\ndancing school, and the ladies receiving incline their heads.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII\n\nTHE D\u00c9BUTANTE\n\n\n=HOW A YOUNG GIRL IS PRESENTED TO SOCIETY=\n\nAny one of various entertainments may be given to present a young girl to\nsociety. The favorite and most elaborate of these, but possible only to\nparents of considerable wealth and wide social acquaintance, is a ball.\nMuch less elaborate, but equal in size, and second in favor to-day, is an\nafternoon tea with dancing. Third, and gaining in popularity, is a small\ndance, which presents the d\u00e9butante to the younger set and a few of her\nmother's intimate friends. Fourth, is a small tea without music. Fifth,\nthe mere sending out of the mother's visiting card with the daughter's\nname engraved below her own, announces to the world that the daughter is\neligible for invitations.\n\n\n=A BALL FOR A D\u00c9BUTANTE=\n\nA ball for a d\u00e9butante differs in nothing from all other balls excepting\nthat the d\u00e9butante \"receives\" standing beside the hostess, and furthest\nfrom the entrance, whether that happens to be on the latter's right or\nleft. The guests as they mount the stairs or enter the ballroom and are\n\"announced,\" approach the hostess first, who, as she shakes hands with\neach, turns to the d\u00e9butante and says \"Mrs. Worldly, my daughter.\" Or\n\"Cynthia, I want to present you to Mrs. Worldly.\" (\"Want to\" is used on\nthis occasion because \"may I\" is too formal for a mother to say to her\nchild.) A friend would probably know the daughter; in any event the\nmother's introduction would be, \"You remember Cynthia, don't you?\"\n\nEach arriving guest always shakes hands with the d\u00e9butante as well as with\nthe hostess, and if there is a queue of people coming at the same time,\nthere is no need of saying anything beyond \"How do you do?\" and passing on\nas quickly as possible. If there are no others entering at the moment,\neach guest makes a few pleasant remarks. A stranger, for instance, would\nperhaps comment on how lovely, and many, the d\u00e9butante's bouquets are, or\nexpress a hope that she will enjoy her winter, or talk for a moment or two\nabout the \"gaiety of the season\" or \"the lack of balls,\" or anything that\nshows polite interest in the young girl's first glimpse of society. A\nfriend of her mother might perhaps say \"You look too lovely, Cynthia dear,\nand your dress is enchanting!\"\n\nPersonal compliments, however, are proper only from a close friend. No\nacquaintance, unless she is quite old, should ever make personal remarks.\nAn old lady or gentleman might very forgivably say \"You don't mind, my\ndear, if I tell you how sweet I think you look,\" or \"What a pretty frock\nyou have on.\" But it is bad taste for a young woman to say to another\n\"What a handsome dress you have on!\" and worst of all to add \"Where did\nyou get it?\" The young girl's particular friends are, of course, apt to\ntell her that her dress is wonderful, or more likely, \"simply divine.\"\n\nIt is customary in most cities to send a d\u00e9butante a bouquet at her\n\"coming out\" party. They may be \"bouquets\" really, or baskets, or other\ndecorative flowers, and are sent by relatives, friends of the family, her\nfather's business associates, as well as by young men admirers. These\n\"bouquets\" are always banked near and if possible, around the place the\nd\u00e9butante stands to receive. If she has great quantities, they are placed\nabout the room wherever they look most effective. The d\u00e9butante usually\nholds one of the bouquets while receiving, but she should remember that\nher choice of this particular one among the many sent her is somewhat\npointed to the giver, so that unless she is willing to acknowledge one\nparticular beau as \"best\" it is wiser to carry one sent by her father, or\nbrother, especially if either send her one of the tiny 1830 bouquets that\nhave been for a year or two in fashion, and are no weight to hold.\n\nThese bouquets are about as big around as an ordinary saucer, and just as\nflat on top as a saucer placed upside down. The flowers chosen are\nrosebuds or other compact flowers, massed tightly together, and arranged\nin a precise pattern; for instance, three or four pink rosebuds are put in\nthe center, around them a row of white violets, around these a single row\nof the pink roses, surrounded again by violets, and so on for four or five\nrows. The bouquet is then set in stiff white lace paper, manufactured for\nthe purpose, the stems wrapped in white satin ribbon, with streamers of\nwhite and pink ribbons about a quarter of an inch wide and tied to hang\ntwenty inches or so long. The colors and patterns in which these little\nbouquets may be made are unlimited.\n\n\n=THE D\u00c9BUTANTE RECEIVES=\n\nAt a ball, where the guests begin coming about half past ten, the\nd\u00e9butante must stand beside the hostess and \"receive\" until at least\ntwelve o'clock--later if guests still continue to arrive.\n\nAt all coming-out parties, the d\u00e9butante invites a few of her best girl\nfriends to receive with her. Whether the party is in the afternoon or\nevening, these young girls wear evening dresses and come early and stay\nlate. Their being asked to \"receive\" is a form of expression merely, as\nthey never stand in line, and other than wearing pretty clothes and thus\nadding to the picture, they have no \"duties\" whatsoever.\n\n\n=AT SUPPER=\n\nThe d\u00e9butante goes to supper with a partner who has surely spoken for the\nprivilege weeks or even months beforehand. But the rest of her own table\nis always made up by herself; that is, it includes the young girls who are\nher most intimate friends, and their supper partners. Her table is usually\nin the center of the dining-room, but, there is no especial decoration to\ndistinguish it, except that it is often somewhat larger than the other\ntables surrounding it, and a footman or waiter is detailed to tell any who\nmay attempt to take it, that it is \"reserved.\"\n\nAfter supper the d\u00e9butante has no duties and is free to enjoy herself.\n\nThe afternoon tea with dancing is described in the chapter on Teas and\nneeds no further comment, since its etiquette is precisely the same as\nthat for a ball. The d\u00e9butante's bouquets are arranged as effectively as\npossible, and she receives with her mother, or whoever the hostess may be,\nuntil the queue of arriving guests thins out, after which she need be\noccupied with nothing but her own good time, and that of her friends.\n\nThose of smaller means, or those who object to hotel rooms, ask only\nyounger people, and give the tea in their own house. Where there are two\nrooms on a floor--drawing-room in front, dining-room back, and a library\non the floor above, the guests are received in the drawing-room, but\nwhether they dance in the dining-room or up in the library, depends upon\nwhich room is the larger. In either case the furniture is moved out. If\npossible the smallest room should be used to receive in, the largest to\ndance in, and the tea-table should be set in the medium one.\n\n\n=HOW MANY GUESTS MAY ONE ASK?=\n\nA hostess should never try to pack her house beyond the limits of its\ncapacity. This question of how many invitations may safely be sent out is\none which each hostess must answer for herself, since beyond a few obvious\ngeneralities no one can very well advise her.\n\nTaking a hostess of \"average\" social position, who is bringing out a\ndaughter of \"average\" attractiveness and popularity, it would be safe to\nsay that every d\u00e9butante and younger man asked to a party of any kind\nwhere there is dancing, will accept, but that not more than from half to\none-third of the older people asked will put in an appearance.\n\n\n=LAVISH PARTIES GIVING WAY TO SIMPLE ONES=\n\nA ball, by the way, is always a general entertainment, meaning that\ninvitations are sent to the entire dinner list--not only actual but\npotential--of the host and hostess, as well as to the younger people who\nare either themselves friends of the d\u00e9butante, or daughters and sons of\nthe friends, and acquaintances of the hostess.\n\nA dance differs from a ball in that it is smaller, less elaborate and its\ninvitations are limited to the contemporaries of the d\u00e9butante, or at most\nthe youngest married set.\n\nInvitations to a tea are even more general and should include a hostess'\nentire visiting list, irrespective of age or even personal acquaintance.\nThe old-fashioned visiting list of the young hostess included the entire\nlist of her mother, plus that of her mother-in-law, to which was added all\nthe names acquired in her own social life. It can easily be seen that this\nlist became a formidable volume by the time her daughter was old enough to\n\"come out,\" and yet this entire list was supposed to be included in all\n\"general\" invitations!\n\nIn the present day, however, at least in New York, there is a growing\ntendency to eliminate these general or \"impersonal\" invitations. In\nsmartest society, it is not even considered necessary that a \"general\"\nentertainment be given to introduce a daughter. In New York last winter\nthere were scarcely a dozen private balls all told. Many of the most\nfashionable (and richest) hostesses gave dances limited to young girls of\ntheir daughters' ages and young dancing men. Even at many of the\nteas-with-dancing none but young people were asked.\n\nAnyone who likes to sit on the bank and watch the tides of fashion rise\nand fall, cannot fail to notice that big and lavish entertainments are\ndwindling, and small and informal ones increasing. It is equally apparent,\ncontrary to popular opinion, that extravagance of expenditure is growing\nless and less. It is years since any one has given such a ball, for\ninstance, as the Venetian f\u00eate the Gildings gave to bring out their eldest\ndaughter, when the entire first floor of the Fitz-Cherry was turned into a\nreplica of Venice--canals, gondolas, and all. Or the Persian ball of the\nVanstyles where the whole house was hung, as a background for Oriental\ncostumes, with copper-gold draperies, against which stood at intervals\nMaxfield Parrish cypress trees. Or the moonlight dance of the Worldlys\nwhich was not a fancy dress one, but for which the ballroom was turned\ninto a garden scene, lighted by simulated moonlight that would have added\nto the renown of Belasco.\n\nSuch entertainments as these seem almost \"out of key\" with the attitude of\nto-day. For although fancy-dress and elaborate parties are occasionally\ngiven, they are not usually given for d\u00e9butantes, nor on the scale of\nthose mentioned above.\n\n\n=THE D\u00c9BUTANTE'S DRESS=\n\nAt a ball, the d\u00e9butante wears her very prettiest ball dress.\nOld-fashioned sentiment prefers that it be white, and of some diaphanous\nmaterial, such as net or gauze or lace. It ought not to look\noverelaborate, even though it is spangled with silver or crystal or is\nmade of sheer lace. It should suggest something light and airy and gay\nand, above all, young. For a young girl to whom white is unbecoming, a\ncolor is perfectly suitable as long as it is a pale shade. She should not\nwear strong colors such as red, or Yale blue, and on no account black! Her\nmother, of course, wears as handsome a ball dress as possible, and \"all\nher jewels.\"\n\nAt an afternoon tea the d\u00e9butante wears an evening dress--a very simple\nevening dress, but an evening dress all the same. Usually a very pale\ncolor, and quite untrimmed, such as she might wear at home for dinner. Her\nmother wears an afternoon dress, not an evening one. Both mother and\ndaughter wear long gloves, and neither they, nor the young girls\nreceiving, wear hats.\n\nTo describe the details of clothes is futile. Almost before this page\ncomes from the printer, the trend may quite likely change. But the\ntendency of the moment is toward greater simplicity--in effect at all\nevents.\n\n\n=IN CONFIDENCE TO A D\u00c9BUTANTE=\n\nLet us pretend a worldly old godmother is speaking, and let us suppose\nthat you are a young girl on the evening of your coming-out ball. You are\nexcited, of course you are! It is your evening, and you are a sort of\nlittle princess! There is music, and there are lights, and there are\nflowers everywhere--a great ballroom massed with them, tables heaped with\nbouquets--all for you! You have on an especially beautiful dress--one that\nwas selected from among many others, just because it seemed to you the\nprettiest. Even your mother and married sister who, \"_en grande tenue_,\"\nhave always seemed to you dazzling figures, have for the moment become,\nfor all their brocades and jewels, merely background; and you alone are\nthe center of the picture. Up the wide staircase come throngs of\nfashionables--who mean \"the world.\" They are coming on purpose to bow to\nyou! You can't help feeling that the glittering dresses, the tiaras, the\nropes of pearls and chains of diamonds of the \"dowagers,\" the stiff white\nshirt-fronts and boutonni\u00e8res and perfectly fitting coats of the older\ngentlemen, as well as the best clothes of all the younger people, were all\nput on for you.\n\nYou shake hands and smile sweetly to a number of older ladies and shake\nhands with an equal number of gentlemen, all very politely and properly.\nThen suddenly, half way up the stairs you see Betty and Anne and Fred and\nOllie. Of course your attention is drawn to them. You are vaguely\nconscious that the butler is shouting some stupid name you never heard\nof--that you don't care in the least about. Your mother's voice is saying\n\"Mrs. zzzzzz----,\"\n\nImpatiently you give your hand to someone--you haven't the slightest idea\nwho it is. So far as your interest is concerned, you might as well be\nbrushing away annoying flies. Your smiles are directed to Betty and Anne.\nAs they reach the top of the stairs you dart forward and enter into an\nexcited conversation, deliberately overlooking a lady and gentleman who,\nwithout trying further to attract your attention, pass on. Later in the\nwinter you will perhaps wonder why you alone among your friends are never\nasked to Great Estates. The lady and gentleman of whom you are so rudely\nunaware, happen to be Mr. and Mrs. Worldly, and you have entirely\nforgotten that you are a hostess, and furthermore that you have the whole\nevening, beginning at supper, when you can talk to these friends of yours!\nYou can dance with Fred and Ollie and Jimmy all the rest of the evening;\nyou can spend most of your time with them for the rest of your life if you\nand they choose. But when you are out in public, above all at a party\nwhich is for _you_, your duty in commonest civility is to overcome your\nimpulses, and behave as a grown-up person--and a well-bred grown-up person\nat that!\n\nIt takes scarcely more than ten seconds to listen to the name that is said\nto you, to look directly and attentively at the one to whom the name\nbelongs, to put out your hand firmly as you would take hold of something\nyou like, (not something that you feel an aversion to), and with a smile\nsay \"How do you do.\" At your ball your mother says \"Mrs. Worldly, my\ndaughter.\" You look directly at Mrs. Worldly, put out your hand, say \"How\ndo you do, Mrs. Worldly.\" And she passes on. It takes no longer to be\ncordial and attentive than to be distrait and casual and rude, yet the\nimpression made in a few seconds of actual time may easily gain or lose a\nfriend for life. When no other guests are arriving, you can chatter to\nyour own friends as much as you like, but as you turn to greet another\nstranger, you must show pleasure, not annoyance, in giving him your\nattention.\n\nA happy attitude to cultivate is to think in your own mind that new people\nare all packages in a grab-bag, and that you can never tell what any of\nthem may prove to be until you know what is inside the outer wrappings of\ncasual appearances. To be sure, the old woman of the fairy tale, who turns\nout to be a fairy in disguise, is not often met with in real life, but\nneither is her approximate counterpart an impossibility.\n\nAs those who have sent you flowers approach, you must thank them; you must\nalso write later an additional note of thanks to older people. But to\nyour family or your own intimate friends, the verbal thanks--if not too\ncasually made--are sufficient.\n\n\n=A FEW DON'TS FOR D\u00c9BUTANTES=\n\nDon't think that because you have a pretty face, you need neither brains\nnor manners. Don't think that you can be rude to anyone and escape being\ndisliked for it.\n\nWhispering is always rude. Whispering and giggling at the same time have\nno place in good society. Everything that shows lack of courtesy toward\nothers is rude.\n\nIf you would be thought a person of refinement, don't nudge or pat or\nfinger people. Don't hold hands or walk arm-about-waist in public. Never\nput your hand on a man, except in dancing and in taking his arm if he is\nusher at a wedding or your partner for dinner or supper. Don't allow\nanyone to paw you. Don't hang on anyone for support, and don't stand or\nwalk with your chest held in, and your hips forward, in imitation of a\nreversed letter S.\n\nDon't walk across a ballroom floor swinging your arms. Don't talk or laugh\nloud enough to attract attention, and on no account force yourself to\nlaugh. Nothing is flatter than laughter that is lacking in mirth. If you\nonly laugh because something is irresistibly funny, the chances are your\nlaugh will be irresistible too. In the same way a smile should be\nspontaneous, because you _feel_ happy and pleasant; nothing has less\nallure than a mechanical grimace, as though you were trying to imitate a\ntooth-paste advertisement.\n\n\n=WHERE ARE THE \"BELLES\" OF YESTERDAY?=\n\nIn olden days and until a comparatively short while ago, a young girl's\nsocial success was invariably measured by her popularity in a ballroom. It\nwas the girl who had the most partners, who least frequently sat \"against\nthe wall,\" who carried home the greatest quantity of the baubles known as\n\"favors,\" who was that evening's and usually the season's belle.\n\nBut to-day although ballroom popularity is still important as a test by\nwhich a young girl's success is measured, it is by no means the beginning\nand end that it used to be.\n\nAs repeated several times in this book, the day of the belle is past;\nbeaux belong to the past too. To-day is the day of woman's equality with\nman, and if in proving her equality she has come down from a pedestal, her\npedestal was perhaps a theatrical \"property\" at best and not to be\ncompared for solid satisfaction with the level ground of the entirely real\nposition she now occupies.\n\nA girl's popularity in a ballroom is of importance to be sure, but not\ngreatly more so than the dancing popularity of a youth.\n\nThere was a time when \"wall-flowers\" went to balls night after night where\nthey either sat beside a chaperon or spent the evening in the\ndressing-room in tears. To-day a young girl who finds she is not a\nballroom success avoids ballrooms and seeks her success otherwhere. She\ndoes not sit in a corner and hope against hope that her \"luck will turn\"\nand that Prince Charming will surely some evening discover her. She sizes\nup the situation exactly as a boy might size up his own chances to \"make\"\nthe crew or the football team.\n\n\n=TO-DAY'S SPECIALISTS IN SUCCESS=\n\nThe girl of to-day soon discovers, if she does not know it already, that\nto be a ballroom belle it is necessary first of all to dance really well.\nA girl may be as beautiful as a young Diana or as fascinating as Circe,\nbut if she is heavy or steps on her first partner's toes, never again will\nhe ask her to dance. And the news spreads in an instant.\n\nThe girl of to-day therefore knows she must learn to dance well, which is\ndifficult, since dancers are born, not made; or she must go to balls for\nsupper only, or not go to balls at all, _unless_--she plays a really good\ngame of bridge! In which case, her chances for popularity at the bridge\ntables, which are at all balls to-day, are quite as good as though she\nwere a young Pavlowa in the ballroom. Or perhaps she skates, or hunts, or\nplays a wonderful game of tennis or golf, each one of which opens a vista\nleading to popularity, and the possibilities for a \"good time\" which was\nafter all the mainspring of old-fashioned ballroom success.\n\nAnd since the day of femininity that is purely ornamental and utterly\nuseless is gone by, it is the girl who does things well who finds life\nfull of interests and of friends and of happiness. The old idea also has\npassed that measures a girl's popular success by the number of trousered\nfigures around her. It is quality, not quantity, that counts; and the girl\nwho surrounds herself with indiscriminate and possibly \"cheap\" youths does\nnot excite the envy but the derision of beholders. To the highest type of\nyoung girl to-day it makes very little difference whether, in the\ninevitable \"group\" in which she is perpetually to be found, there are more\nmen than girls or the opposite.\n\nThis does not mean that human nature has changed--scarcely! There always\nare and doubtless always will be any number of women to whom admiration\nand flirtation is the very breath of their nostrils, who love to parade a\nbeau just as they love to parade a new dress. But the tendencies of the\ntime do not encourage the flirtatious attitude. It is not considered a\ntriumph to have many love affairs, but rather an evidence of stupidity and\nbad taste.\n\n\n=FRANKNESS OF TO-DAY=\n\nA young man playing tennis with a young girl a generation ago would have\nbeen forced patiently to toss her gentle balls and keep his boredom to\nhimself, or he would have held her chin in his hand, while he himself\nstood shivering for hours in three feet of water, and tried his best to\ndisguise his opinion as to the hopelessness of her ever learning to swim.\n\nTo-day he would frankly tell her she had better play tennis for a year or\ntwo with a \"marker\" or struggle at swimming by herself, and any sensible\ngirl would take that advice!\n\n\n=FOR WHAT SHE REALLY IS=\n\nInstead of depending upon beauty, upon sex-appeal, the young girl who is\n\"the success of to-day\" depends chiefly upon her actual character and\ndisposition. It is not even so necessary to do something well as to\nrefrain from doing things badly. If she is not good at sports, or games,\nor dancing, then she must find out what she is good at and do that! If she\nis good for nothing but to look in the glass and put rouge on her lips and\npowder her nose and pat her hair, life is going to be a pretty dreary\naffair. In other days beauty was worshiped for itself alone, and it has\nvotaries of sorts to-day. But the best type of modern youth does not care\nfor beauty, as his father did; in fact, he doesn't care a bit for it, if\nit has nothing to \"go with it,\" any more than he cares for butter with no\nbread to spread it on. Beauty _and_ wit, _and_ heart, _and_ other\nqualifications or attributes is another matter altogether.\n\nA gift of more value than beauty, is charm, which in a measure is another\nword for sympathy, or the power to put yourself in the place of others; to\nbe interested in whatever interests them, so as to be pleasing to them, if\npossible, but not to occupy your thoughts in futilely wondering what they\nthink about you.\n\nWould you know the secret of popularity? It is unconsciousness of self,\naltruistic interest, and inward kindliness, outwardly expressed in good\nmanners.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX\n\nTHE CHAPERON AND OTHER CONVENTIONS\n\n\n=A GLOOMY WORD=\n\nOf course there are chaperons and chaperons! But it must be said that the\nvery word has a repellent schoolteacherish sound. One pictures\ninstinctively a humorless tyrant whose \"correct\" manner plainly reveals\nher true purpose, which is to take the joy out of life. That she can\nbe--and often is--a perfectly human and sympathetic person, whose\nunselfish desire is merely to smooth the path of one who is the darling of\nher heart, in nothing alters the feeling of gloom that settles upon the\nspirit of youth at the mention of the very word \"chaperon.\"\n\n\n=FREEDOM OF THE CHAPERONED=\n\nAs a matter of fact the only young girl who is really \"free,\" is she whose\nchaperon is never very far away. She need give conventionality very little\nthought, and not bother about her P's and Q's at all, because her chaperon\nis always a strong and protective defense; but a young girl who is\nunprotected by a chaperon is in the position precisely of an unarmed\ntraveler walking alone among wolves--his only defense is in not attracting\ntheir notice.\n\nTo be sure the time has gone by when the presence of an elderly lady is\nindispensable to every gathering of young people. Young girls for whose\nsole benefit and protection the chaperon exists (she does not exist for\nher own pleasure, youthful opinion to the contrary notwithstanding), have\ninfinitely greater freedom from her surveillance than had those of other\ndays, and the typical chaperon is seldom seen with any but very young\ngirls, too young to have married friends. Otherwise a young married woman,\na bride perhaps scarcely out of her teens, is, on all ordinary occasions,\na perfectly suitable chaperon, especially if her husband is present. A\nvery young married woman gadding about without her husband is not a proper\nchaperon.\n\nThere are also many occasions when a chaperon is unnecessary! It is\nconsidered perfectly correct for a young girl to drive a motor by herself,\nor take a young man with her, if her family know and approve of him, for\nany short distance in the country. She may play golf, tennis, go to the\nCountry Club, or Golf Club (if near by), sit on the beach, go canoeing,\nride horseback, and take part in the normal sports and occupations of\ncountry life. Young girls always go to private parties of every sort\nwithout their own chaperon, but the fact that a lady issues an invitation\nmeans that either she or another suitable chaperon will be present.\n\n\n=THE BEST CHAPERON HERSELF=\n\nEthically the only chaperon is the young girl's own sense of dignity and\npride; she who has the right attributes of character needs no\nchaperon--ever. If she is wanting in decency and proper pride, not even\nArgus could watch over her! But apart from ethics, there are the\nconventions to think of, and the conventions of propriety demand that very\nyoung woman must be protected by a chaperon, because otherwise she will be\nmisjudged.\n\n\n=THE RESIDENT CHAPERON=\n\nNo young girl may live alone. Even though she has a father, unless he\ndevotes his entire time to her, she must also have a resident chaperon who\nprotects her reputation until she is married or old enough to protect it\nherself--which is not until she has reached a fairly advanced age, of\nperhaps thirty years or over if she is alone, or twenty-six or so if she\nlives in her father's house and behaves with such irreproachable\ncircumspection that Mrs. Grundy is given no chance to set tongues\nwagging.\n\nIt goes without saying that a chaperon is always a lady, often one whose\nsocial position is better than that of her charge; occasionally she is a\nsocial sponsor as well as a moral one. Her position, if she is not a\nrelative, is very like that of a companion. Above all, a chaperon must\nhave dignity, and if she is to be of any actual service, she must be kind\nof heart and have intelligent sympathy and tact. To have her charge not\nonly care for her, but be happy with her, is the only possible way such a\nrelationship can endure.\n\nNeedless to say a chaperon's own conduct must be irreproachable and her\nknowledge of the world such as can only be gained by personal experience;\nbut she need not be an old lady! She can perfectly well be reasonably\nyoung, and a spinster.\n\nVery often the chaperon \"keeps the house,\" but she is never called a\n\"housekeeper.\" Nor is she a \"secretary\" though she probably draws the\nchecks and audits the bills.\n\nIt is by no means unusual for mothers who are either very gay or otherwise\nbusy, and cannot give most of their time to their grown and growing\ndaughters, to put them in charge of a resident chaperon. Often their\ngoverness--if she is a woman of the world--gives up her autocracy of the\nschoolroom and becomes social guardian instead.\n\n\n=THE DUTIES OF A CHAPERON=\n\nIt is unnecessary to say that a chaperon has no right to be inquisitive or\ninterfering unless for a very good reason. If an objectionable\nperson--meaning one who can not be considered a gentleman--is inclined to\nshow the young girl attentions, it is of course her duty to cut the\nacquaintance short at the beginning before the young girl's interest has\nbecome aroused. For just such a contingency as this it is of vital\nimportance that confidence and sympathy exist between the chaperon and her\ncharge. No modern young girl is likely to obey blindly unless she values\nthe opinions of one in whose judgment and affection she has learned to\nbelieve.\n\nWHEN INVITATIONS ARE SENT OUT BY A CHAPERON\n\nUsually if a young girl is an orphan, living with a chaperon, a ball or\nformal party would be given in the name of an aunt or other near relative.\nIf her father is alive, the invitations go out in his name of course, and\nhe receives with her. But if it should happen that she has no near family\nat all, or if her chaperon is her social sponsor, the chaperon's name can\nbe put on invitations. For example:\n\n       Miss Abigail Titherington\n\n           Miss Rosalie Gray\n\n           will be at home\n\n    on Saturday the fifth of December\n\n       from four until six o'clock\n\n            The Fitz-Cherry\n\nRosalie has no very near relatives and Miss Titherington has brought her\nup.\n\nIn sending out the invitations for a dinner (a young girl would not be\ngiving a formal dinner) Rosalie telephones her friends \"Will you dine with\nme (or us) next Monday?\" or, \"On the sixteenth?\" It is not necessary to\nmention Miss Titherington because it is taken for granted that she will be\npresent.\n\nIt is also not considered proper for a young girl ever to be alone as\nhostess. When she invites young girls and men to her house, Miss\nTitherington either \"receives\" them or comes into the room while they are\nthere. If the time is afternoon, very likely she pours tea and when\neveryone has been helped, she goes into another room. She does not stay\nwith them ever, but she is never very far away.\n\nThe chaperon (or a parent) should never go to bed until the last young\nman has left the house. It is an unforgivable breach of decorum to allow a\nyoung girl to sit up late at night with a young man--or a number of them.\nOn returning home from a party, she must not invite or allow a man to\n\"come in for a while.\" Even her fianc\u00e9 must bid her good night at the door\nif the hour is late, and some one ought always to sit up, or get up, to\nlet her in. No young girl ought to let herself in with a latch-key.\n\nIn old-fashioned days no lady had a latch-key. And it is still fitting and\nproper for a servant to open the door for her.\n\nA young girl may not, even with her fianc\u00e9, lunch in a road house without\na chaperon, or go on a journey that can by any possibility last over\nnight. To go out with him in a small sail-boat sounds harmless enough, but\nmight result in a questionable situation if they are becalmed, or if they\nare left helpless in a sudden fog. The Maine coast, for example, is\nparticularly subject to fogs that often shut down without warning and no\none going out on the water can tell whether he will be able to get back\nwithin a reasonable time or not. A man and a girl went out from Bar Harbor\nand did not get back until next day. Everyone knew the fog had come in as\nthick as pea-soup and that it was impossible to get home; but to the end\nof time her reputation will suffer for the experience.\n\n\n=A FEW PRECEPTS OF CONVENTION=\n\nAt a dinner party given for young people in a private house, a somewhat\nolder sister would be a sufficient chaperon. Or the young hostess' mother\nafter receiving the guests may, if she chooses, dine with her husband\nelsewhere than in the dining-room, the parents' roof being supposedly\nchaperonage enough.\n\nIn going to tea in a college man's room, or in a bachelor's apartment, the\nproper chaperon should be a lady of fairly mature years. To see two or\nthree apparently young people going into a bachelor's quarters would be\nopen to criticism. There are many places which are unsuitable for young\ngirls to go to whether they are chaperoned or not. No well brought up\nyoung girl should be allowed to go to supper at a cabaret until she is\nmarried, or has passed the age when \"very young\" can be applied to her.\n\n\n=CONVENTIONS THAT CHANGE WITH LOCALITY=\n\nIn New York, for instance, no young girl of social standing may, without\nbeing criticized, go alone with a man to the theater. Absolutely no lady\n(unless middle-aged-and even then she would be defying convention) can go\nto dinner or supper in a restaurant alone with a gentleman. A lady, not\nyoung, who is staying in a very dignified hotel, can have a gentleman dine\nwith her. But any married woman, if her husband does not object, may dine\nalone in her own home with any man she pleases or have a different one\ncome in to tea every day in the week without being criticized.\n\nA very young girl may motor around the country alone with a man, with her\nfather's consent, or sit with him on the rocks by the sea or on a log in\nthe woods; but she must not sit with him in a restaurant. All of which is\nabout as upside down as it can very well be. In a restaurant they are not\nonly under the surveillance of many eyes, but they can scarcely speak\nwithout being overheard, whereas short-distance motoring, driving, riding,\nwalking or sitting on the seashore has no element of protection certainly.\nAgain, though she may not lunch with him in a restaurant, she is sometimes\n(not always) allowed to go to a moving picture matin\u00e9e with him! Why\nsitting in the dark in a moving picture theater is allowed, and the\nrestaurant is tabu is very mysterious.\n\nOlder girls and young married women are beginning to lunch with men they\nknow well in some of the New York restaurants, but not in others. In many\ncities it would be scandalous for a young married woman to lunch with a\nman not her husband, but quite all right for a young girl and man to lunch\nat a country club. This last is reasonable because the room is undoubtedly\nfilled with people they know--who act as potential chaperons. Nearly\neverywhere it is thought proper for them to go to a dancing club for tea,\nif the \"club\" is managed by a chaperon.\n\nAs said above, interpretation of what is proper shifts according to\nlocality. Even in Victorian days it was proper in Baltimore for a young\ngirl to go to the theater alone with a man, and to have him see her home\nfrom a ball was not only permitted but absolutely correct.\n\n\n=\"MRS. GRUNDY\"=\n\nOf course every one has his own portrait of Mrs. Grundy, and some idea of\nthe personality she shows to him; but has any one ever tried to ferret out\nthat disagreeable old woman's own position; to find out where she lives\nand why she has nothing to do but meddle in affairs which do not concern\nher. Is she a lady? One would imagine she is not. One would also imagine\nthat she lives in a solid well-repaired square brown stone house with a\ncupola used as a conning tower and equipped with periscope and telescope\nand wireless. Furthermore, her house is situated on a bleak hill so that\nnothing impedes her view and that of her two pets, a magpie and a jackal.\nAnd the business in life of all three of them is to track down and destroy\nthe good name of every woman who comes within range, especially if she is\nyoung and pretty--and unchaperoned!\n\nThe pretty young woman living alone, must literally follow Cinderella's\nhabits. To be out of the house late at night or sitting up, except to\nstudy, are imprudences she can not allow herself. If she is a widow her\nconduct must be above criticism, but if she is young and pretty and\ndivorced, she must literally live the life of a Puritan spinster of Salem.\nThe magpie never leaves her window sill and the jackal sits on the\ndoormat, and the news of her every going out and coming in, of every one\nwhom she receives, when they come, how long they stay and at what hour\nthey go, is spread broadcast.\n\nNo unprotected woman can do the least thing that is unconventional without\nhaving Mrs. Grundy shouting to everyone the worst possible things about\nher.\n\n\n=THE BACHELOR GIRL=\n\nThe bachelor girl is usually a worker; she is generally either earning her\nliving or studying to acquire the means of earning her living. Her days\nare therefore sure to be occupied, and the fact that she has little time\nfor the gaiety of life, and that she is a worker, puts her in a somewhat\nless assailable position. She can on occasion go out alone with a man (not\na married one), but the theater she goes to must be of conventional\ncharacter, and if she dines in a restaurant it is imperative that a\nchaperon be in the party; and the same is true in going to supper at\nnight. No one could very well criticize her for going to the opera or a\nconcert with a man when neither her nor his behavior hints a lack of\nreserve.\n\nBut a girl whose personal dignity is unassailable is not apt to bring\ncensure upon herself, even though the world judges by etiquette, which may\noften be a false measure. The young woman who wants really to be free from\nMrs. Grundy's hold on her, must either live her own life, caring nothing\nfor the world's opinion or the position it offers, or else be chaperoned.\n\n\n=THE BACHELOR HOST AND THE CHAPERON=\n\nBarring the one fact that a chaperon must be on hand before young or\n\"single\" women guests arrive, and that she may not leave until after those\nwhom she has chaperoned have left, there is no difference whatsoever in an\nentertainment given at the house of a bachelor and one given by a hostess.\nA bachelor can give dinners or theater parties or yachting parties or\nhouse parties or any parties that a hostess can give.\n\nIt is unnecessary to say no lady may dine alone in a gentleman's rooms, or\nhouse; nor may she dine with a number of gentlemen (unless one of them is\nher husband, in which case she is scarcely \"alone\"). But it is perfectly\ncorrect for two or more ladies to dine at a gentleman's rooms if one of\nthe ladies is elderly or the husband of one is present.\n\nA bachelor entertaining in bachelor's quarters, meaning that he has only a\nman servant, must be much more punctilious, and must arrange to have the\nchaperon bring any young woman guests with her, since no young girls could\nbe seen entering bachelor's quarters alone, and have their \"good name\"\nsurvive. If he has a large establishment, including women servants, and if\nfurthermore he is a man whose own reputation is unblemished, the chaperon\nmay be met at his house. But since it is more prudent for young women to\narrive under her care, why run the unnecessary risk of meeting Mrs.\nGrundy's jackal on the doorstep?\n\nAt the house of a bachelor such as described above, the chaperon could be\na husbandless young married woman, or in other words, the most careless\nchaperon possible, without ever giving Mrs. Grundy's magpie cause for\nruffling a feather. But no young woman could dine or have tea, no matter\nhow well chaperoned, in the \"rooms\" of a man of morally bad reputation\nwithout running a very unpleasant risk of censure.\n\n\n=A BACHELOR'S HOUSE PARTIES=\n\nBachelors frequently have house parties at their country places. A married\nlady whose husband is with her is always the chaperon unless the host's\nmother or sister may be staying--or living--in his house.\n\nThere is always something unusually alluring about a bachelor's\nentertaining. Especially his house parties. Where do all bachelors get\nthose nice and so very respectable elderly maid servants? They can't all\nhave been their nurses! And a bachelor's house has a something about it\nthat is very comfortable but entirely different from a lady's house,\nthough it would be difficult to define wherein the difference lies. He is\nperhaps more attentive than a hostess, at least he meets his guests at the\nstation if they come by train, or, if they motor to his house, he goes out\non the front steps to greet them as they drive up.\n\nA possible reason why bachelors seem to make such good hosts is that only\nthose who have a talent for it make the attempt. There is never any\nobligation on a gentleman's part to invite ladies to stay with him,\nwhereas it is part of every lady's duty at least occasionally to be a\nhostess, whether she has talent, or even inclination, for the position or\nnot.\n\nA gentleman can return the courtesies of hostesses to him by occasionally\nsending flowers, or books, or candy, and by showing them polite attention\nwhen he meets them out.\n\nIf a bachelor lives in a house of his own, especially in a country\ncommunity, he is under the same obligations as any other householder to\nreturn the hospitality shown by his neighbors to him.\n\n\n=INVITATIONS=\n\nThe bachelor's invitations are the same as those sent out by a hostess.\nThere is absolutely no difference. His butler or waitress telephones \"Will\nMr. and Mrs. Norman dine with Mr. Bachelor on Wednesday?\" Or he writes a\nnote or uses the engraved dinner card. In giving an informal dance it is\nquite correct, according to New York fashion, for him to write on his\nvisiting card:\n\n\n[HW: Monday Jan.^y 3^rd\n\nAt 10 o'clock]\n\nMr. Frederick Bachelor\n\n[HW: Small Dance] 2 Pormanto Place\n\n\nOr an artist sends his card with his studio address and\n\n[HW: Saturday April 7.\nat 4 o'ck]\n\n=MR. ANTHONY DAUBER=\n\n[HW: To hear Tonini Play] Park Studio\n\n\nNo invitation of a gentleman mentions that there will be a chaperon\nbecause that is taken for granted. No gentleman invites ladies of position\nto a party unless one or many chaperons are to be present.\n\nA very young girl never goes even to an unmarried doctor's or a\nclergyman's (unless the latter is very elderly) without a chaperon, who in\nthis instance may be a semi-elderly maid.\n\nA lady having her portrait painted always takes a woman friend, or her\nmaid, who sits in the studio, or at least within sight or hearing.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX\n\nENGAGEMENTS\n\n\n=COURTSHIP=\n\nSo long as Romance exists and Lochinvar remains young manhood's ideal,\nlove at first sight and marriage in a week is within the boundaries of\npossibility. But usually (and certainly more wisely) a young man is for\nsome time attentive to a young woman before dreaming of marriage. Thus not\nonly have her parents plenty of time to find out what manner of man he is,\nand either accept or take means to prevent a serious situation; but the\nmodern young woman herself is not likely to be \"carried away\" by the\npersonality of anyone whose character and temperament she does not pretty\nthoroughly understand and weigh.\n\nIn nothing does the present time more greatly differ from the close of the\nlast century, than in the unreserved frankness of young women and men\ntowards each other. Those who speak of the domination of sex in this day\nare either too young to remember, or else have not stopped to consider,\nthat mystery played a far greater and more dangerous r\u00f4le when sex, like a\nwoman's ankle, was carefully hidden from view, and therefore far more\nalluring than to-day when both are commonplace matters.\n\nIn cities twenty-five years ago, a young girl had beaux who came to see\nher one at a time; they in formal clothes and manners, she in her \"company\nbest\" to \"receive\" them, sat stiffly in the \"front parlor\" and made\npolitely formal conversation. Invariably they addressed each other as Miss\nSmith and Mr. Jones, and they \"talked off the top\" with about the same\nlack of reservation as the ambassador of one country may be supposed to\ntalk to him of another. A young man was said to be \"devoted\" to this young\ngirl or that, but as a matter of fact each was acting a r\u00f4le, he of an\nadmirer and she of a siren, and each was actually an utter stranger to the\nother.\n\n\n=FRIENDSHIP AND GROUP SYSTEM=\n\nTo-day no trace of stilted artificiality remains. The t\u00eate-a-t\u00eate of a\nquarter of a century ago has given place to the continual presence of a\ngroup. A flock of young girls and a flock of young men form a little group\nof their own--everywhere they are together. In the country they visit the\nsame houses or they live in the same neighborhood, they play golf in\nfoursomes, and tennis in mixed doubles. In winter at balls they sit at the\nsame table for supper, they have little dances at their own homes, where\nscarcely any but themselves are invited; they play bridge, they have tea\ntogether, but whatever they do, they stay in the pack. In more than one\nway this group habit is excellent; young women and men are friends in a\ndegree of natural and entirely platonic intimacy undreamed of in their\nparents' youth. Having the habit therefore of knowing her men friends\nwell, a young girl is not going to imagine a stranger, no matter how\nperfect he may appear to be, anything but an ordinary human man after all.\nAnd in finding out his bad points as well as his good, she is aided and\nabetted, encouraged or held in check, by the members of the group to which\nshe belongs.\n\nSuppose, for instance, that a stranger becomes attentive to Mary;\nimmediately her friends fix their attention upon him, watching him.\nTwenty-five years ago the young men would have looked upon him with\njealousy, and the young women would have sought to annex him. To-day their\nattitude is: \"Is he good enough for Mary?\" And, eagle-eyed, protective of\nMary, they watch him. If they think he is all right he becomes a member of\nthe group. It may develop that Mary and he care nothing for each other,\nand he may fall in love with another member, or he may drift out of the\ngroup again or he may stay in it and Mary herself marry out of it. But if\nhe is not liked, her friends will not be bashful about telling Mary\nexactly what they think, and they will find means usually--unless their\nprejudice is without foundation--to break up the budding \"friendship\" far\nbetter than any older person could do. If she is really in love with him\nand determined to marry in spite of their frankly given opinion, she at\nleast makes her decision with her eyes open.\n\nThere are also occasions when a young woman is persuaded by her parents\ninto making a \"suitable marriage\"; there are occasions when a young woman\npersists in making a marriage in opposition to her parents; but usually a\nyoung man either belongs in or joins her particular circle of intimate\nfriends, and one day, it may be to their own surprize, though seldom to\nthat of their intimates, they find that each is the only one in the world\nfor the other, and they become engaged.\n\n\n=FIRST DUTY OF THE ACCEPTED SUITOR=\n\nIf a young man and his parents are very close friends it is more than\nlikely he will already have told them of the seriousness of his\nintentions. Very possibly he has asked his father's financial assistance,\nor at least discussed ways and means, but as soon as he and she have\ndefinitely made up their minds that they want to marry each other, it is\nthe immediate duty of the man to go to the girl's father or her guardian,\nand ask his consent. If her father refuses, the engagement cannot exist.\nThe man must then try, through work or other proof of stability and\nseriousness, to win the father's approval. Failing in that, the young\nwoman is faced with dismissing him or marrying in opposition to her\nparents. There are, of course, unreasonable and obdurate parents, but it\nis needless to point out that a young woman assumes a very great risk who\ntakes her future into her own hands and elopes. But even so, there is no\nexcuse for the most unfilial act of all--deception. The honorable young\nwoman who has made up her mind to marry in spite of her parents'\ndisapproval, announces to them, if she can, that on such and such a day\nher wedding will take place. If this is impossible, she at least refuses\nto give her word that she will not marry. The height of dishonor is to\n\"give her word\" and then break it.\n\n\n=THE APPROVED ENGAGEMENT=\n\nUsually, however, when the young man enters the study or office of her\nfather, the latter has a perfectly good idea of what he has come to say\nand, having allowed his attentions, is probably willing to accept his\ndaughter's choice; and the former after announcing that the daughter has\naccepted him, goes into details as to his financial standing and\nprospects. If the finances are not sufficiently stable, the father may\ntell him to wait for a certain length of time before considering himself\nengaged, or if they are satisfactory to him, he makes no objection to an\nimmediate announcement. In either case, the man probably hurries to tell\nthe young woman what her father has said, and if he has been very\nfrequently at the house, very likely they both tell her mother and her\nimmediate family, or, more likely still, she has told her mother first of\nall.\n\n\n=HIS PARENTS CALL ON HERS=\n\nAs soon as the young woman's father accepts the engagement, etiquette\ndemands that the parents of the bridegroom-elect call at once (within\ntwenty-four hours) upon the parents of the bride-to-be. If illness or\nabsence prevents one of them, the other must go alone. If the young man is\nan orphan, his uncle, aunt or other nearest relative should go in the\nparents' place. Not even deep mourning can excuse the failure to observe\nthis formality.\n\n\n=THE ENGAGEMENT RING=\n\nIt is doubtful if he who carries a solitaire ring enclosed in a little\nsquare box and produces it from his pocket upon the instant that she says\n\"Yes,\" exists outside of the moving pictures! As a matter of fact, the\naccepted suitor usually consults his betrothed's taste--which of course\nmay be gratified or greatly modified, according to the length of his\npurse--or he may, without consulting her, buy what ring he chooses. A\nsolitaire diamond is the conventional emblem of \"the singleness and\nendurability of the one love in his life,\" and the stone is supposed to be\n\"pure and flawless\" as the bride herself, and their future together--or\nsentiments equally beautiful. There is also sentiment for a sapphire's\n\"depth of true blue.\" Pearls are supposed to mean tears; emeralds,\njealousy; opals, the essence of bad luck; but the ruby stands for warmth\nand ardor: all of which it is needless to say is purest unfounded\nsuperstition.\n\nIn the present day, precious stones having soared far out of reach of all\nbut the really rich, fashion rather prefers a large semi-precious one to a\nmicroscopic diamond. \"Fashion,\" however, is merely momentary and local,\nand the great majority will probably always consider a diamond the only\nring to have.\n\nIt is not obligatory, or even customary, for the girl to give the man an\nengagement present, but there is no impropriety in her doing so if she\nwants to, and any of the following articles would be suitable: A pair of\ncuff links, or waistcoat buttons, or a watch chain, or a key chain, or a\ncigarette case. Probably because the giving of an engagement ring is his\nparticular province, she very rarely gives him a ring or, in fact, any\npresent at all.\n\nThe engagement ring is worn for the first time \"in public\" on the day of\nthe announcement.\n\n\n=BEFORE ANNOUNCEMENT=\n\nUsually a few days before the formal announcement--and still earlier for\nletters written abroad or to distant States--both young people write to\ntheir aunts, uncles, and cousins, and to their most intimate friends, of\ntheir engagement, asking them not to tell anyone until the determined\ndate.\n\nAs soon as they receive the news, all the relatives of the groom-elect\nmust call on the bride. She is not \"welcomed by the family\" until their\ncards, left upon her in person, assure her so. She must, of course, return\nall of these visits, and as soon as possible.\n\nIf his people are in the habit of entertaining, they should very soon ask\nher with her fianc\u00e9 to lunch or to dinner, or after the engagement is\npublicly announced, give a dinner or tea or dance in her honor. If, on the\nother hand, they are very quiet people, their calling upon her is\nsufficient in itself to show their welcome.\n\nIn case of a recent death in either immediate family, the engagement\ncannot be publicly announced until the first period of mourning is past.\n(It is entirely dignified for a private wedding to take place at the\nbedside of a very ill parent, or soon after a deep bereavement. In that\ncase there is, of course, no celebration, and the service is read in the\npresence of the immediate families only.)\n\nThe announcement is invariably made by the parents of the bride-elect. It\nis a breach of etiquette for a member of the young man's family to tell of\nthe engagement until the formal announcement has been arranged for.\n\n\n=ANNOUNCEMENT OF ENGAGEMENT=\n\nOn the evening before the day of the announcement, the bride's mother\neither sends a note, or has some one call the various daily papers by\ntelephone, and says: \"I am speaking for Mrs. John Huntington Smith. Mr.\nand Mrs. Smith are announcing the engagement of their daughter, Mary, to\nMr. James Smartlington, son of Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Brown Smartlington, of\n2000 Arcade Avenue.\"\n\nIf either the Huntington Smiths or the Arthur Smartlingtons are socially\nprominent, reporters will be sent to get further information. Photographs\nand details, such as entertainments to be given, or plans for the wedding,\nwill probably be asked for. The prejudices of old-fashioned people against\ngiving personal news to papers is rapidly being overcome and not even the\nmost conservative any longer object to a dignified statement of facts,\nsuch as Mrs. Smith's telephone message.\n\nIt is now considered entirely good form to give photographs to magazines\nand newspapers, but one should never send them unless specially\nrequested.\n\nOn the eve of the announcement, a dinner is sometimes given by the young\ngirl's parents, and the news is told by her father, who at about salad\ncourse or dessert, proposes the health of his daughter and future\nson-in-law.\n\n\n=HOW A HEALTH IS PROPOSED=\n\nThe host after directing that all glasses at the table be filled, rises,\nlifts his own glass and says: \"I propose we drink to the health of my\ndaughter Mary and the young man she has decided to add permanently to our\nfamily, James Smartlington.\"\n\nOr:\n\n    \"A standing toast: To my Mary and to her--Jim!\"\n\nOr:\n\n\"I want you to drink the happiness of a young pair whose future welfare is\nclose to the hearts of all of us: Mary (holding up his glass and looking\nat her) and Jim!\" (holding it up again and looking at him). Every one\nexcept Mary and Jim rises and drinks a swallow or two (of whatever the\nchampagne substitute may be). Every one then congratulates the young\ncouple, and Jim is called upon for a \"speech\"!\n\nGenerally rather \"fussed,\" Jim rises and says something like:\n\"I--er--we--thank you all very much indeed for all your good wishes,\" and\nsits down. Or if he is an earnest rather than a shy youth, perhaps he\ncontinues: \"I don't have to tell you how lucky _I_ am, the thing for me to\ndo is to prove, if I can, that Mary has not made the mistake of her life\nin choosing me, and I hope that it won't be very long before we see you\nall at our own table with Mary at the head of it and I, where I belong, at\nthe foot.\"\n\nOr:\n\n    \"I can't make a speech and you know it. But I certainly am lucky\n    and I know it.\"\n\n\n=WHEN NO SPEECH IS MADE=\n\nThe prevailing custom in New York and other big cities is for the party to\nbe given on the afternoon or evening of the day of announcement. The\nengagement in this case is never proclaimed to the guests as an assembled\naudience. The news is \"out\" and everyone is supposed to have heard it.\nThose who have not, can not long remain ignorant, as the groom-elect is\neither receiving with his fianc\u00e9e or brought forward by her father and\npresented to every one he does not know. Everybody congratulates him and\noffers the bride-to-be good wishes for her happiness.\n\nA dinner or other entertainment given to announce an engagement is by no\nmeans necessary. \"Quiet people\" very often merely write notes of\nannouncement and say they will be at home on such an afternoon at tea\ntime. The form and detail are exactly the same as on an habitual day at\nhome except that the bride and groom-elect both receive as well as her\nmother.\n\n\n=PARTIES FOR THE ENGAGED COUPLE=\n\nIf the families and friends of the young couple are at all in the habit of\nentertaining, the announcement of an engagement is the signal always for a\nshower of invitations.\n\nThe parents of the groom-elect are sure to give a dance, or a \"party\" of\none kind or another \"to meet\" their daughter-to-be. If the engagement is a\nshort one, their life becomes a veritable dashing from this house to that,\nand every meal they eat seems to be one given for them by some one. It is\nnot uncommon for a bride-elect to receive a few engagement presents.\n(These are entirely apart from wedding presents which come later.) A small\nafternoon teacup and saucer used to be the typical engagement gift, but it\nhas gone rather out of vogue, along with harlequin china in general.\nEngagement presents are usually personal trifles sent either by her own\nvery intimate friends or by members of her fianc\u00e9's family as especial\nmessages of welcome to hers--and as such are very charming. But any\ngeneral fashion that necessitates giving engagement as well as wedding\npresents may well be looked upon with alarm by those who have only\nmoderately filled pocketbooks!\n\n\n=ENGAGED COUPLE IN PUBLIC=\n\nThere is said to be still preserved somewhere in Massachusetts a\nwhispering reed through the long hollow length of which lovers were wont\nto whisper messages of tenderness to each other while separated by a\nroom's length and the inevitable chaperonage of the fianc\u00e9e's entire\nfamily.\n\nFrom those days to these is a far cry, but even in this era of liberty and\nnaturalness of impulse, running the gauntlet of people's attention and\ncriticism is no small test of the good taste and sense of a young couple.\n\nThe hall-mark of so-called \"vulgar people\" is unrestricted display of\nuncontrolled emotions. No one should ever be made to feel like withdrawing\nin embarrassment from the over-exposed privacy of others. The shrew who\npublicly berates her husband is no worse than the engaged pair who snuggle\nin public. Every one supposes that lovers kiss each other, but people of\ngood taste wince at being forced to play audience at love scenes which\nshould be private. Furthermore, such cuddling gives little evidence of the\ndeeper caring--no matter how ardent the demonstration may be.\n\nGreat love is seldom flaunted in public, though it very often shows itself\nin pride--that is a little obvious, perhaps. There is a quality of\nprotectiveness in a man's expression as it falls on his betrothed, as\nthough she were so lovely a breath might break her; and in the eyes of a\ngirl whose love is really deep, there is always evidence of that most\nbeautiful look of championship, as though she thought: \"No one else can\npossibly know how wonderful he is!\"\n\nThis underlying tenderness and pride which is at the base of the attitude\nof each, only glints beneath the surface of perfect comradeship. Their\nfrank approval of whatever the other may do or say is very charming; and\neven more so is their obvious friendliness toward all people, of wanting\nthe whole world beautiful for all because it is so beautiful to them. That\nis love--as it should be! And its evidence is a very sure sign-post\npointing to future happiness.\n\n\n=ETIQUETTE OF ENGAGED PEOPLE=\n\nIt is unnecessary to say that an engaged man shows no attention whatever\nto other women. It should be plain to every one, even though he need not\nbehave like a moon-calf, that \"one\" is alone in his thoughts.\n\nOften it so happens that engaged people are very little together, because\nhe is away at work, or for other reasons. Rather than sit home alone, she\nmay continue to go out in society, which is quite all right, but she must\navoid being with any one man more than another and she should remain\nvisibly within the general circle of her group. It always gives gossip a\nchance to see an engaged girl sitting out dances with any particular man,\nand slander is never far away if any evidence of ardor creeps into their\nregard, even if it be merely \"manner,\" and actually mean nothing at all.\n\n\n=IN THE BACKWATERS OF LONG ENGAGEMENT=\n\nUnless the engaged couple are both so young, or by temperament so\nirresponsible, that their parents think it best for them to wait until\ntime is given a chance to prove the stability of their affection, no one\ncan honestly advocate a long-delayed marriage.\n\nWhere there is no money, it is necessary to wait for better finances. But\nthe old argument that a long engagement was wise in that the young couple\nwere given opportunity to know each other better, has little sense to-day\nwhen all young people know each other thoroughly well.\n\nA long engagement is trying to everyone--the man, the girl, both\nfamilies, and all friends. It is an unnatural state, like that of waiting\nat the station for a train, and in a measure it is time wasted. The minds\nof the two most concerned are centered upon each other; to them life seems\nto consist in saying the inevitable good-by.\n\nHer family think her absent-minded, distrait, aloof and generally useless.\nHis family never see him. Their friends are bored to death with them--not\nthat they are really less devoted or loyal, but her men friends withdraw,\nnaturally refraining from \"breaking in.\" He has no time between business\nand going to see her to stop at his club or wherever friends of his may\nbe. Her girl friends do see her in the daytime, but gradually they meet\nless and less because their interests and hers no longer focus in common.\nGradually the stream of the social world goes rushing on, leaving the two\nwho are absorbed in each other to drift forgotten in a backwater. He works\nharder, perhaps, than ever, and she perhaps occupies herself in making\nthings for her trousseau or her house, or otherwise preparing for the more\ncontented days which seem so long in coming.\n\nOnce they are married, they no longer belong in a backwater, but find\nthemselves again sailing in midstream. It may be on a slow-moving current,\nit may be on a swift,--but their barge sails in common with all other\ncraft on the river of life.\n\n\n_Should a Long Engagement Be Announced?_\n\nWhether to announce an engagement that must be of long duration is not a\nmatter of etiquette but of personal preference. On the general principle\nthat frankness is always better than secretiveness, the situation is\nusually cleared by announcing it. On the other hand, as illustrated above,\nthe certain knowledge of two persons' absorption in each other always\ncreates a marooned situation. When it is only supposed, but not known,\nthat a man and girl particularly like each other, their segregation is not\nnearly so marked.\n\n\n=MEETING OF KINSMEN=\n\nAt some time before the wedding, it is customary for the two families to\nmeet each other. That is, the parents of the groom dine or lunch at the\nhouse of the parents of the bride to meet the aunts, uncles and cousins.\nAnd then the parents of the bride are asked with the same purpose to the\nhouse of the groom-elect.\n\nIt is not necessary that any intimacy ensue, but it is considered fitting\nand proper that all the members of the families which are to be allied\nshould be given an opportunity to know one another--at least by sight.\n\n\n=THE ENGAGED COUPLE AND THE CHAPERON=\n\nThe question of a chaperon differs with locality. In Philadelphia and\nBaltimore, custom permits any young girl to go alone with a young man\napproved by her family to the theater, or to be seen home from a party. In\nNew York or Boston, Mrs. Grundy would hold up her hands and run to the\nneighbors at once with the gossip.\n\nIt is perhaps sufficient to say that if a man is thought worthy to be\naccepted by a father as his daughter's husband, he should also be\nconsidered worthy of trust no matter where he finds himself alone with\nher. It is not good form for an engaged couple to dine together in a\nrestaurant, but it is all right for them to lunch, or have afternoon tea;\nand few people would criticize their being at the opera or the\ntheater--unless the performance at the latter was of questionable\npropriety. They should take a chaperon if they motor to road-houses for\nmeals--and it goes without saying that they cannot go on a journey alone\nthat can possibly last over night.\n\n\n=GIFTS WHICH MAY AND THOSE WHICH MAY NOT BE ACCEPTED=\n\nThe fianc\u00e9e of a young man who is \"saving in order to marry,\" would be\nlacking in taste as well as good sense were she to encourage or allow him\nextravagantly to send her flowers and other charming, but wasteful,\npresents. But on the other hand, if the bridegroom-elect has plenty of\nmeans, she may not only accept flowers but anything he chooses to select,\nexcept wearing apparel or a motor car or a house and furniture--anything\nthat can be classified as \"maintenance.\"\n\nIt is perfectly suitable for her to drive his car, or ride his horse, and\nshe may select furniture for their house, which he may buy or have built.\nBut, if she would keep her self-respect, the car must not become hers nor\nmust she live in the house or use its furniture until she is given his\nname. He may give her all the jewels he can afford, he may give her a fur\nscarf, but not a fur coat. The scarf is an ornament, the coat is wearing\napparel. If she is very poor, she may have to be married in cheese-cloth,\nor even in the dress she wears usually, but her wedding dress and the\nclothes she wears away, must not be supplied by the groom or his family.\nThere is one exception: if his mother, for instance, has some very\nwonderful family lace, or has kept her own wedding dress and has no\ndaughter herself, and it would please her to have her son's wife wear her\nlace or dress, it is proper for the bride to consent. But it would be\nstarting life on a false basis, and putting herself in a category with\nwomen of another class, to be clothed by any man, whether he is soon to be\nher husband or not.\n\nIf the engagement should be so unfortunate as to be broken off, the\nengagement ring and all other gifts of value must be returned.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI\n\nFIRST PREPARATIONS BEFORE A WEDDING\n\n\nTo begin with, before deciding the date of the wedding, the bride's mother\nmust find out definitely on which day the clergyman who is to perform the\nceremony is disengaged, and make sure that the church is bespoken for no\nother service. If it is to be an important wedding, she must also see that\nthe time available for the church is also convenient to the caterer.\n\nSundays, and days in Lent, are not chosen for weddings, and Friday being a\n\"fast\" day in Catholic and very \"high\" Episcopal churches, weddings on\nthat day, if not forbidden, are never encouraged. But the superstition\nthat Friday and the month of May are unlucky, is too stupid to discuss.\n\nHaving settled upon a day and hour, the next step is to decide the number\nof guests that can be provided for, which is determined by the size of the\nchurch and the house, and the type of reception intended.\n\n\n=THE INVITATIONS=\n\nThe bride-elect and her mother then go to the stationer and decide\ndetails, such as size and texture of paper and style of engraving, for the\ninvitations. The order is given at once for the engraving of all the\nnecessary plates, and probably for the full number of house invitations,\nespecially if to a sit-down breakfast where the guests are limited. There\nare also ordered a moderate number of general church invitations or\nannouncements, which can be increased later when the lists are completed\nand the definite number of guests more accurately known.\n\n\n=HER MOTHER CONSULTS HIS MOTHER=\n\nThe bride's mother then consults with the groom, or more likely, with his\nmother, as to how the house-list is to be divided between them. This never\nmeans a completely doubled list, because, if the two families live in the\nsame city, many names are sure to be in duplicate. If the groom's people\nlive in another place, invitations to the house can be liberally sent, as\nthe proportion of guests who will take a long trip seldom go beyond those\nof the immediate family and such close friends as would be asked to the\nsmallest of receptions.\n\nUsually if Mrs. Smith tells Mrs. Smartlington that two hundred can be\nincluded at the breakfast, Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Smartlington will each make\na list of one hundred and fifty, certain that one hundred will be in\nduplicate.\n\nInvitations to a big church wedding are always sent to the entire visiting\nlist, and often the business acquaintances of both families, no matter how\nlong the combined number may be, or whether they can by any chance be\npresent or not. Even people in deep mourning are included as well as those\nwho live thousands of miles away, as the invitations not merely proffer\nhospitality but are messengers carrying the news of the marriage.\n\nAfter a house wedding, or a private ceremony where invitations were\nlimited to relatives and closest personal friends of the young couple,\ngeneral announcements are sent out to the entire visiting list.\n\n\n=HOW THE WEDDING LIST IS COMPILED=\n\nThose who keep their visiting list in order have comparatively little\nwork. But those who are not in the habit of entertaining on a general\nscale, and yet have a large unassorted visiting list, will have quite a\npiece of work ahead of them, and cannot begin making it soon enough.\n\nIn the cities where a Social Register or other Visiting Book is published,\npeople of social prominence find it easiest to read it through, marking\n\"XX\" in front of the names to be asked to the house, and another mark,\nsuch as a dash, in front of those to be asked to the church only, or to\nhave announcements sent them. Other names which do not appear in the\nprinted list may be written as \"thought of\" at the top or bottom of pages.\nIn country places and smaller cities, or where a published list is not\navailable, or of sufficient use, the best assistant is the telephone book.\n\nList-making should be done over as long a period and for as short sessions\nas possible, in order that each name as it is read may bring to memory any\nother that is similar. Long reading at a time robs the repetition of names\nof all sense, so that nothing is easier than to pass over the name of a\nfriend without noticing it.\n\nA word of warning: To leave out old friends because they are neither rich\nnor fashionable and to include comparative strangers because they are of\ngreat social importance, not alone shows a want of loyalty and proper\nfeeling, but is to invite the contempt of those very ones whom such\nsnobbery seeks to propitiate.\n\nFour lists, therefore, are combined in sending out wedding invitations;\nthe bride and the groom make one each of their own friends, to which is\nadded the visiting list of the bride's family (made out by her mother, or\nother near relative) and the visiting list of the groom's family made out\nby his mother, or a relative. Each name is clearly marked, of course,\nwhether for \"house\" or \"church\" invitation.\n\nWhen the four lists are completed, it is the duty of some one to arrange\nthem into a single one by whatever method seems most expedient. When lists\nare very long, the compiling is usually done by a professional secretary,\nwho also addresses the envelopes, encloses the proper number of cards, and\nseals, stamps and posts the invitations. The address of a professional\nsecretary can always be furnished by the stationer. Very often, especially\nwhere lists do not run into inordinate length, the envelopes are addressed\nand the invitations sent out by the bride herself and some of her friends\nwho volunteer to help her.\n\n\n=THE MOST ELABORATE WEDDING POSSIBLE=\n\nThis is the huge wedding of the daughter of ultra rich and prominent\npeople in a city such as New York, or, more probably, a high-noon wedding\nout of town. The details would in either case he the same, except that the\n\"country setting\" makes necessary the additional provision of a special\ntrain which takes the guests to a station where they are met by dozens of\nmotors and driven to the church. Later they are driven to the house, and\nlater again, to the returning special train.\n\nOtherwise, whether in the city or the country, the church (if Protestant)\nis decorated with masses of flowers in some such elaborateness as\nstandards, or arches, or hanging garlands in the church itself, as well as\nthe floral embellishment of the chancel. The service is conducted by a\nbishop or other distinguished clergyman, with assistant clergymen, and\naccompanied by a full choral service, possibly with the addition of a\ncelebrated opera soloist. The costumes of the bride and her maids are\nchosen with painstaking attention to perfection, and with seeming\ndisregard of cost.\n\nLater, at the house, there is not only a floral bower under which the\nbridal couple receive, but every room has been turned into a veritable\nwoodland or garden, so massed are the plants and flowers. An orchestra--or\ntwo, so that the playing may be without intermission--is hidden behind\npalms in the hall or wherever is most convenient. A huge canopied platform\nis built on the lawn or added to the veranda (or built out over the yard\nof a city house), and is decorated to look like an enclosed formal garden.\nIt is packed with small tables, each seating four, six, or eight, as the\noccasion may require.\n\n\n=THE AVERAGE FASHIONABLE WEDDING=\n\nThe more usual fashionable wedding is merely a modification of the one\noutlined above. The chancel of the church is decorated exactly the same,\nbut except in summer when garden flowers are used, there is very little\nattempted in the body of the church other than sprays of flowers at the\nends of the ten to twenty reserved pews, or possibly only at the ends of\nthe first two pews and the two that mark the beginning of the ribboned\nsection. There is often a choral service and a distinguished officiating\nclergyman. The costumes of bride and bridesmaids are usually the same in\neffect, though they may be less lavish in detail.\n\nThe real difference begins at the breakfast, where probably a hundred\nguests are invited, or two hundred at most, instead of from five hundred\nto a thousand, and except for the canopied background against which the\nbride and groom receive, there is very little floral decoration of the\nhouse. If a tent is built, it is left as it is--a tent--with perhaps some\nstandard trees at intervals to give it a decorated appearance. The tables,\neven that of the bride, their garniture, the service, and the food are all\nprecisely the same, the difference being in the smaller number of guests\nprovided for.\n\n\n=A SMALL WEDDING=\n\nA small wedding is merely a further modification of the two preceding\nones. Let us suppose it is a house wedding in a moderate-sized house.\n\nA prayer bench has been placed at the end of the drawing-room or\nliving-room. Back of it is a screen or bower of palms or other greens. One\ndecoration thus serves for chancel and background at the reception. A\nnumber of small tables in the dining-room may seat perhaps twenty or even\nfifty guests, besides the bride's table placed in another room. If the\nbride has no attendants, she and the groom choose a few close friends to\nsit at the table with them. Or, at a smaller wedding, there is a private\nmarriage in a little chapel, or the clergyman reads the service at the\nhouse of the bride in the presence of her parents and his and a small\nhandful of guests, who all sit down afterwards at one table for a wedding\nbreakfast.\n\nOr there may be a greater number of guests and a simpler collation, such\nas a stand-up afternoon tea, where the refreshments are sandwiches, cakes,\ntea and chocolate.\n\n\n=BREACH OF ETIQUETTE FOR GROOM TO GIVE WEDDING=\n\nNo matter whether a wedding is to be large or tiny, there is one\nunalterable rule: the reception must be either at the house of the bride's\nparents or grandparents or other relative of hers, or else in assembly\nrooms rented by her family. Never under any circumstances should a wedding\nreception be given at the house of the groom's family. They may give a\nball or as many entertainments of whatever description they choose for the\nyoung couple after they are married, but the wedding breakfast and the\ntrousseau of the bride must be furnished by her own side of the house!\n\nWhen a poor girl marries, her wedding must be in keeping with the means of\nher parents. It is not only inadvisable for them to attempt expenditure\nbeyond what they can afford, but they would lay themselves open to far\ngreater criticism through inappropriate lavishness, than through\nmeagerness of arrangement--which need not by any means lack charm because\ninexpensive.\n\n\n=WEDDING OF A CINDERELLA=\n\nSome years ago there was a wedding when a girl who was poor married a man\nwho was rich and who would gladly have given her anything she chose, the\nbeauty of which will be remembered always by every witness in spite of, or\nmaybe because of, its utter lack of costliness.\n\nIt was in June in the country. The invitations were by word of mouth to\nneighbors and personal notes to the groom's relatives at a distance. The\nvillage church was decorated by the bride, her younger sisters, and some\nneighbors, with dogwood, than which nothing is more bridelike or\nbeautiful. The shabbiness of her father's little cottage was smothered\nwith flowers and branches cut in a neighboring wood. Her dress, made by\nherself, was of tarlatan covered with a layer or two of tulle, and her\nveil was of tulle fastened with a spray, as was her girdle, of natural\nbridal wreath and laurel leaves. Her bouquet was of trailing bridal wreath\nand white lilacs. She was very young, and divinely beautiful, and fresh\nand sweet. The tulle for her dress and veil and her thin silk stockings\nand white satin slippers represented the entire outlay of any importance\nfor her costume. A little sister in smock of pink sateen and a wreath and\ntight bouquet of pink laurel clusters, toddled after her and \"held\" her\nbouquet--after first laying her own on the floor!\n\nThe collation was as simple as the dresses of the bride and bridesmaid. A\nhome-made wedding cake, \"professionally\" iced and big enough for every one\nto take home a thick slice in waxed paper piled near for the purpose, and\na white wine cup, were the most \"pretentious\" offerings. Otherwise there\nwere sandwiches, hot biscuits, cocoa, tea and coffee, scrambled eggs and\nbacon, ice cream and cookies, and the \"music\" was a victrola, loaned for\nthe occasion. The bride's \"going away\" dress was of brown Holland linen\nand her hat a plain little affair as simple as her dress; again her only\nexpenditure was on shoes, stockings and gloves. Later on, she had all the\nclothes that money could buy, but in none of them was she ever more lovely\nthan in her fashionless wedding dress of tarlatan and tulle, and the plain\nlittle frock in which she drove away. Nor are any of the big parties that\nshe gives to-day more enjoyable, though perfect in their way, than her\nwedding on a June day, a number of years ago.\n\n\n=THE WEDDING HOUR=\n\nThe fashionable wedding hour in New York is either noon, or else in the\nafternoon at three, three-thirty or four o'clock, with the reception\nalways a half hour later. High noon, which means that the breakfast is at\none o'clock, and four o'clock in the afternoon, with the reception at half\nafter, are the conventional hours.\n\n\n=THE EVENING WEDDING=\n\nIn San Francisco and generally throughout the West altogether smart\nweddings are celebrated at nine o'clock in the evening. The details are\nprecisely the same as those of morning or afternoon. The bride and\nbridesmaids wear dresses that are perhaps more elaborate and \"evening\" in\nmodel, and the bridegroom as well as all men present wear evening clothes,\nof course. If the ceremony is in a church, the women should wear wraps\nand an ornament or light scarf of some sort over their hair, as ball\ndresses are certainly not suitable, besides which church regulations\nforbid the uncovering of women's heads in consecrated places of worship.\n\n\n=THE MORNING WEDDING=\n\nTo some, nine o'clock in the morning may sound rather eccentric for a\nwedding, but to people of the Atlantic Coast it is not a bit more so than\nan evening hour--less so, if anything, because morning is unconventional\nanyway and etiquette, never being very strong at that hour, is not defied,\nbut merely left quiescent.\n\nIf, for any reason, such as taking an early morning train or ship--an\nearly morning wedding might be a good suggestion. The bride should, of\ncourse, not wear satin and lace; she could wear organdie (let us hope the\nnine o'clock wedding is in summer!), or she could wear very simple white\ncr\u00eape de chine. Her attendants could wear the simplest sort of morning\ndresses with garden hats; the groom a sack suit or flannels. And the\nbreakfast--really breakfast--could consist of scrambled eggs and bacon and\ntoast and coffee--and griddle cakes!\n\nThe above is not written in ridicule; the hour would be \"unusual,\" but a\nsimple early morning wedding where every one is dressed in morning\nclothes, and where the breakfast suggests the first meal of the day--could\nbe perfectly adorable! The evening wedding on the other hand, lays itself\nopen to criticism because it is a function--a function is formal, and the\nformal is always strictly in the province of that austere and inflexible\nlawmaker, Etiquette. And Etiquette at this moment says: \"Weddings on the\nAtlantic seaboard are celebrated not later than four-thirty o'clock in the\nafternoon!\"\n\n\n=WEDDING PRESENTS=\n\nAnd now let us return to the more particular details of the wedding of our\nespecial bride.\n\nThe invitations are mailed about three weeks before the wedding. As soon\nas they are out, the presents to the bride begin coming in, and she\nshould enter each one carefully in her gift book. There are many published\nfor the purpose, but an ordinary blank book, nicely bound, as she will\nprobably want to keep it, about eight to ten inches square, will answer\nevery purpose. The usual model spreads across the double page, as follows:\n\n_Present                                                                Date of\nreceived                                  Sender's         Where        thanks\ndate     Article      Sent by             Address          Bought       written_\nMay 20   Silver Dish  Mr. and Mrs. White  1 Elinore Place  Tiffany's    May 20\nMay 21   12 Plates    Mr. and Mrs. Green  2 North Street   Collamore's  May 21\n\nAll gifts as they arrive should be put in a certain room, or part of a\nroom, and never moved away until the description is carefully entered. It\nwill be found a great help to put down the addresses of donors as well as\ntheir names so that the bride may not have to waste an unnecessary moment\nof the overcrowded time which must be spent at her desk.\n\n\n=THE BRIDE'S THANKS=\n\nThe bride who is happy in receiving a great number of presents spends\nevery spare moment in writing her notes of thanks, which must always be\nwritten by her personally. Telephoning won't do at all, and neither will a\nverbal \"Thank you so much,\" as she meets people here and there. She must\nwrite a separate letter for each present--a by no means small undertaking!\nA bride of this year whose presents, because of her family's great\nprominence, ran far into the hundreds, never went to bed a single night\nbefore her wedding until a note of thanks was checked against every\npresent received that day. To those who offered to help her through her\noverwhelming task, she, who is supposed to be very spoiled, answered: \"If\npeople are kind enough to go out and buy a present for me, I think the\nleast I can do is to write at once and thank them.\" That her effort was\nappreciated was evident by everyone's commenting on her prompt and\ncharming notes.\n\nNotes of thanks can be very short, but they should be written with as\nlittle delay as possible. When a present is sent by a married couple, the\nbride writes to the wife and thanks both: \"Thank you for the lovely\npresent you and Mr. Jones sent me.\"\n\n\n=ARRANGING THE PRESENTS=\n\nNot so much in an effort to parade her possessions as to do justice to the\nkindness of the many people who have sent them, a bride should show her\nappreciation of their gifts by placing each one in the position of\ngreatest advantage. Naturally, all people's tastes are not equally\npleasing to the taste of the bride--nor are all pocketbooks equally\nfilled. Very valuable presents are better put in close contrast with\nothers of like quality--or others entirely different in character. Colors\nshould be carefully grouped. Two presents, both lovely in themselves, can\nbe made completely destructive to each other if the colors are allowed to\nclash.\n\nUsually china is put on one table, silver on another, glass on another,\nlaces and linens on another. But pieces that jar together must be\nseparated as far apart as possible and perhaps even moved to other\nsurroundings. A crudely designed piece of silverware should not be left\namong beautiful examples, but be put among china ornaments, or other\narticles that do not reveal its lack of fineness by too direct comparison.\nFor the same reason imitation lace should not be put next to real, nor\nstone-ware next to Chinese porcelain. To group duplicates is another\nunfortunate arrangement. Eighteen pairs of pepper pots or fourteen\nsauce-boats in a row might as well be labeled: \"Look at this stupidity!\nWhat can she do with all of us?\" They are sure to make the givers feel at\nleast a little chagrined at their choice.\n\n\n=CARDS WITH PRESENTS=\n\nWhen Mrs. Smith orders a present sent to a bride, she encloses a card\nreading: \"Mr. & Mrs. John Huntington Smith.\" Nearly every married woman\nhas a plate engraved with both names, but if she hasn't, then she encloses\nMr. Smith's card with hers.\n\nSome people write \"All good wishes\" or \"With best wishes,\" but most people\nsend cards without messages.\n\n\n=DELAYED PRESENTS=\n\nIf because of illness or absence, a present is not sent until after the\nwedding, a short note should accompany it, giving the reason for the\ndelay.\n\n\n=WHEN THE PRESENTS ARE SHOWN=\n\nThere is absolutely no impropriety in showing the presents at the wedding\nreception. They are always shown at country weddings, and, more often than\nnot, at the most fashionable town houses. The only reason for not showing\nthem, is lack of room in an apartment house. In a town house, an up-stairs\nlibrary, or even a bedroom, from which all the furniture has been removed,\nis suitable. Tables covered with white damask (plain) tablecloths are put\nlike counters around the sides, and down the center of the room. The cards\nthat were sent with the gifts are sometimes removed, but there is no\nimpropriety in leaving them on, and it certainly saves members of the\nfamily from repeating many times who sent this one, and who sent that!\n\nIf the house is small so that there is no room available for this display\nat the wedding, the presents are shown on the day before, and intimate\nfriends are especially asked to come in for tea, and to view them. This is\nnot done if they are to be displayed at the wedding.\n\nVery intimate friends seldom need to be asked; the chances are they will\ncome in often, to see what has come since they were in last!\n\nWedding presents are all sent to the bride, and are, according to law, her\npersonal property. Articles are marked with her present--not her\nfuture--initials. Mary Smith who is going to marry Jim Smartlington is\nfortunate as M.S. stands for her future as well as her present name. But\nin the case of Muriel Jones who is to marry Ross, not a piece of linen or\nsilver in \"Ross house\" will be marked otherwise than \"M.J.\" It is one of\nthe most senseless customs: all her life which will be as Muriel Ross, she\nuses linen and silver marked with a \"J.\" Later on many people who go to\nher house--especially as Ross comes from California where she will\nnaturally be living--will not know what \"J\" stands for, and many even\nimagine that the linen and plate have been acquired at auction! Sounds\nimpossible? It has happened more than once.\n\nOccasional brides who dislike the confusing initials, especially ask that\npresents be marked with their marriage name.\n\nThe groom receives few presents. Even those who care about him in\nparticular and have never met his bride, send their present to her, unless\nthey send two presents, one in courtesy to her and one in affection to\nhim. Occasionally some one does send the groom a present, addressed to him\nand sent to his house. Rather often friends of the groom pick out things\nparticularly suitable for him, such as cigar or cigarette boxes, or rather\nmasculine looking desk sets, etc., which are sent to her but are obviously\nintended for his use.\n\n\n=EXCHANGING WEDDING PRESENTS=\n\nSome people think it discourteous if a bride changes the present chosen\nfor her. All brides exchange some presents, and no friends should allow\ntheir feelings to be hurt, unless they are very close to the bride and\nhave chosen the present with particular sentiment. A bride never changes\nthe presents chosen for her by her or the groom's family--unless\nespecially told that she may do so. But to keep twenty-two salt cellars\nand sixteen silver trays when she has no pepper-pots or coffee spoons or\nplatters or vegetable dishes, would be putting \"sentiment\" above \"sense.\"\n\n\n=THE TROUSSEAU=\n\nA trousseau, according to the derivation of the word, was \"a little trusse\nor bundle\" that the bride carried with her to the house of her husband. In\nmodern times, the \"little bundle\" often requires the services of a van to\ntransport.\n\nThe wrappers and underclothes of a young girl are usually very simple, but\nwhen she is to be a bride, her mother buys her, as lavishly as she can,\nand of the prettiest possible assortment of lace trimmed lingerie, tea\ngowns, bed sacques and caps, whatever may be thought especially becoming.\nThe various undress garments which are to be worn in her room or at the\nbreakfast table, and for the sole admiration of her husband, are of far\ngreater importance than the dresses and hats to be worn in public.\n\nIn Europe it is the custom to begin collecting linen for a girl's\ntrousseau as soon as she is born, but the American bride cares nothing for\ndozens upon dozens of stout linen articles. She much prefers gossamer\ntexture lavishly embellished with equally perishable lace. Everything must\nbe bought for beauty; utility is not considered at all. No stout\nhand-woven underwear trimmed with solidly stitched needlework! Modern Miss\nMillions demands handkerchief linen and Valenciennes lace of a quality\nthat used to be put as trimming on a ball gown, and Miss Smallpurse asks\nfor chiffon and less expensive but even more sheer and perishable laces.\nNot long ago a stocking was thought fine if it could be run through a\nwedding ring; to-day no stocking is considered \"fit to put on\" for town or\nevening wear unless several together can slip through the measure once the\ntest for one.\n\n\n=THE MOST EXTRAVAGANT TROUSSEAU=\n\nThe most lavish trousseau imaginable for the daughter of the very rich\nmight be supposed to comprise:\n\n\n_House Linen_\n\nOne to six dozen finest quality embroidered or otherwise \"trimmed\" linen\nsheets with large embroidered monogram.\n\nOne to six dozen finest quality linen sheets, plain hemstitched, large\nmonogram.\n\nOne to six dozen finest quality linen under-sheets, narrow hem and small\nmonogram.\n\nTwo pillow cases and also one \"little\" pillow case (for small down pillow)\nto match each upper sheet.\n\nOne to two dozen blanket covers (these are of thin washable silk in white\nor in colors to match the rooms) edged with narrow lace and breadths put\ntogether with lace insertion.\n\nSix to twelve blankets.\n\nThree to twelve wool or down-filled quilts.\n\nTwo to ten dozen finest quality, extra large, face towels, with Venetian\nneedlework or heavy hand-made lace insertion (or else embroidered at each\nend), and embroidered monogram.\n\nFive to ten dozen finest quality hemstitched and monogrammed but otherwise\nplain, towels.\n\nFive to ten dozen little hand towels to match the large ones.\n\nOne to two dozen very large bath towels, with embroidered monogram, either\nwhite or in color to match the border of towels.\n\nTwo to four dozen smaller towels to match.\n\nOne tablecloth, six or eight yards long, of finest but untrimmed damask\nwith embroidered monogram on each side, or four corners. Three dozen\ndinner napkins to match. (Lace inserted and richly embroidered tablecloths\nof formal dinner size are not in the best taste.)\n\nOne tablecloth five to six yards long with two dozen dinner napkins to\nmatch.\n\nOne to four dozen damask tablecloths two and a half to three yards long,\nand one dozen dinner napkins to match each tablecloth. All tablecloths and\nnapkins to have embroidered monogram or initials.\n\nTwo to six medium sized cut-work, mosaic or Italian lace-work tablecloths,\nwith lunch napkins to match.\n\nTwo to six centerpieces, with doilies and lunch napkins to match.\n\nFour to a dozen tea cloths, of filet lace or drawn work or Russian\nembroidery, with tiny napkins to match. Table pieces and tea-cloths have\nmonograms if there is any plain linen where a monogram can be embroidered,\notherwise monograms or initials are put on the napkins only.\n\nOne or two dozen damask tablecloths, plain, with monogram, and a dozen\nnapkins to match each.\n\nIn addition to the above, there are two to four dozen servants' sheets\nand pillow cases (cotton); six to twelve woolen blankets, six to twelve\nwool filled quilts, four to six dozen towels, and one or two dozen bath\ntowels; six to twelve white damask (cotton or linen and cotton mixed)\ntablecloths and six to twelve dozen napkins, all marked with machine\nembroidery.\n\nTwo to six dozen kitchen and pantry towels and dishcloths complete the\nlist.\n\n\n_Personal Trousseau_\n\nHow many dresses can a bride wear? It all depends--is she to be in a big\ncity for the winter season, or at a watering place for the summer? Is she\ngoing to travel, or live quietly in the country? It is foolish to get more\n\"outside\" clothes than she has immediate use for; fashions change too\nradically. The most extravagant list for a bride who is to \"go out\"\ncontinually in New York or Newport, would perhaps include a dozen evening\ndresses, two or three evening wraps, of varying weights. For town there\nwould be from two to four street costumes, a fur coat, another long coat,\na dozen hats and from four to ten house dresses. In this day of week-ends\nin the country, no trousseau, no matter how town-bred the bride, is\ncomplete without one or two \"country\" coats, of fur, leather or woolen\nmaterials; several homespun, tweed or tricot suits or dresses; skirts with\nshirt-waists and sweaters in endless variety; low or flat heeled shoes;\nwoolen or woolen and silk mixture stockings; and sport hats.\n\nIf the season is to be spent \"out of town\"--even in Newport or Palm\nBeach--the most extravagant bride will find little use for any but country\nclothes, a very few frocks for Sunday, and possibly a lot of evening\ndresses. Of course, if she expects to run to town a great deal for lunch,\nor if she is to travel, she chooses her clothes accordingly.\n\nSo much for the outer things. On the subject of the under things, which\nbeing of first importance are saved for the last, one can dip into any of\nthe women's magazines devoted to fashion and fashionables, and understand\nat first sight that the furnishings which may be put upon the person of\none young female would require a catalogue as long and as varied as a\nseedsman's. An extravagant trousseau contains every article\nillustrated--and more besides--in quality _never_ illustrated--and by the\ndozens! But it must not for a moment be supposed that every fashionable\nbride has a trousseau like this--especially the household linen which\nrequires an outlay possible only to parents who are very rich and also\nvery indulgent.\n\n\n=THE MODERATE TROUSSEAU=\n\nThe moderate trousseau simple cuts the above list into a fraction in\nquantity and also in quality. There is nothing of course that takes the\nplace of the smooth fineness of really beautiful linen--it can no more be\nimitated than can a diamond, and its value is scarcely less. The \"linen\"\nof a really modest trousseau in this day of high prices must of necessity\nbe \"cotton.\" Fortunately, however, many people dislike the chill of linen\nsheets, and also prefer cotton-face towels, because they absorb better,\nand cotton is made in attractive designs and in endless variety.\n\nFor her personal trousseau, a bride can have everything that is charming\nand becoming at comparatively little expense. She who knows how to do fine\nsewing can make things beautiful enough for any one, and the dress made or\nhat trimmed at home is often quite as pretty on a lovely face and figure\nas the article bought at exorbitant cost at an establishment of\nreputation. Youth seldom needs expensive embellishment. Certain things\nsuch as footwear and gloves have to be bought, and are necessary. The\ncost, however, can be modified by choosing dresses that one-color slippers\nlook well with.\n\nIn cities such as New York, Washington or Boston, it has never been\nconsidered very good taste to make a formal display of the trousseau. A\nbride may show an intimate friend or two a few of her things, but her\ntrousseau is never spread out on exhibition. There can, however, be no\nobjection to her so doing, if it is the custom of the place in which she\nlives.\n\n\n=WHAT THE BRIDESMAIDS WEAR=\n\nThe costumes of the bridesmaids, slippers, stockings, dresses, bouquets,\ngloves and hats, are selected by the bride, without considering or even\nconsulting them as to their taste or preferences. The bridesmaids are\nalways dressed exactly alike as to texture of materials and model of\nmaking, but sometimes their dresses differ in color. For instance, two of\nthem may wear pale blue satin slips covered with blue chiffon and cream\nlace fichus, and cream-colored \"picture\" hats trimmed with orchids. The\nnext two wear orchid dresses, cream fichus, and cream hats trimmed with\npale blue hydrangeas. The maid of honor likewise wears the same model, but\nher dress is pink chiffon over pink satin and her cream hat is trimmed\nwith both orchids and hydrangeas. The bouquets would all be alike of\norchids and hydrangeas. Their gloves all alike of cream-colored suede, and\ntheir slippers, blue, orchid, and pink, with stockings to match. Usually\nthe bridesmaids are all alike in color as well as outline, and the maid of\nhonor exactly the same but in reverse colors. Supposing the bridesmaids to\nwear pink dresses with blue sashes and pink hats trimmed in blue, and\ntheir bouquets are of larkspur--the maid of honor wears the same dress in\nblue, with pink sash, blue hat trimmed with pink, and carries pink roses.\n\nAt Lucy Gilding's wedding, her bridesmaids were dressed in deep shades of\nburnt orange and yellow, wood-colored slippers and stockings, skirts that\nshaded from brown through orange to yellow; yellow leghorn hats trimmed\nwith jonquils, and jonquil bouquets. The maid of honor wore yellow running\ninto cream, and her hat, the of the same shape of leghorn, was trimmed\nwith cream feathers, and she carried a huge cream feather fan.\n\nAs in the case of the wedding dress, it is foolish to enter into\ndescriptions of clothes more than to indicate that they are of light and\nfragile materials, more suitable to evening than to daytime. Flower girls\nand pages are dressed in quaint old-fashioned dresses and suits of satin\nwith odd old-fashioned bonnets--or whatever the bride fancies as being\nespecially \"picturesque.\"\n\nIf a bridesmaid is in mourning, she wears colors on that one day, as\nbridesmaids' dresses are looked upon as uniforms, not individual costumes.\nNor does she put a black band on her arm. A young girl in deepest mourning\nshould not be a bridesmaid--unless at the very private wedding of a bride\nor groom also in mourning. In this case she would most likely be the only\nattendant and wear all white.\n\nAs a warning against the growing habit of artifice, it may not be out of\nplace to quote one commentary made by a man of great distinction who,\nhaving seen nothing of the society of very young people for many years,\n\"had to go\" to the wedding of a niece. It was one of the biggest weddings\nof the spring season in New York. The flowers were wonderful, the\nbridesmaids were many and beautiful, the bride lovely. Afterwards the\nfamily talked long about the wedding, but the distinguished uncle said\nnothing. Finally, he was asked point blank: \"Don't you think the wedding\nwas too lovely? Weren't the bridesmaids beautiful?\"\n\n\"No,\" said the uncle, \"I did not think it was lovely at all. Every one of\nthe bridesmaids was so powdered and painted that there was not a sweet or\nfresh face among them--I can see a procession just like them any evening\non the musical comedy stage! One expects make-up in a theater, but in the\nhouse of God it is shocking!\"\n\nIt is unnecessary to add--if youth, the most beautiful thing in the world,\nwould only appreciate how beautiful it is, and how opposite is the false\nbloom that comes in boxes and bottles! Shiny noses, colorless lips, sallow\nskins hide as best they may, and with some excuse, behind powder or\nlip-stick; but to rouge a rose--!\n\n\n=THE COST OF BEING A BRIDESMAID=\n\nWith the exception of parasols, or muffs or fans, which are occasionally\ncarried in place of bouquets and presented by the bride, every article\nworn by the bridesmaids, flower girls or pages, although chosen by the\nbride, must be paid for by the wearers.\n\nIt is perhaps an irrefutable condemnation of the modern wedding display\nthat many a young girl has had to refuse the joy of being in the wedding\nparty because a complete bridesmaid outfit costs a sum that parents of\nmoderate means are quite unable to meet for popular daughters. And it is\nseldom that the bride is herself in a position to give six or eight\ncomplete costumes, much as she may want all of her most particular friends\nwith her on her day of days. Very often a bride tries especially to choose\nclothes that will not be expensive, but New York prices are New York\nprices, and the chic which is to make the wedding a perfect picture is the\nthing of all others that has to be paid for.\n\nEven though one particular girl may be able to dress herself very smartly\nin homemade clothes of her own design and making, those same clothes\nduplicated eight times seldom turn out well. Why this is so, is a mystery.\nWhen a girl looks smart in inferior clothes, the merit is in her, not in\nthe clothes--and in a group of six or eight, five or seven will show a\nlack of \"finish,\" and the tender-hearted bride who, for the sake of their\npurses sends her bridesmaids to an average \"little woman\" to have their\nclothes made, and to a little hat-place around the corner, is apt to have\na rather dowdy little flock fluttering down the aisle in front of her.\n\n\n=HOW MANY BRIDESMAIDS?=\n\nThis question is answered by: How many friends has she whom she has\n\"always promised\" to have with her on that day? Has she a large circle of\nintimates or only one or two? Her sister is always maid of honor; if she\nhas no sister, she chooses her most intimate friend.\n\nA bride may have a veritable procession: eight or ten bridesmaids, a maid\nof honor, flower girls and pages. That is, if she follows the English\ncustom, where every younger relative even including the little boys as\npages, seems always to be brought into a perfect May-pole procession of\nragged ages and sizes.\n\nOr she may have none at all. She almost always has at least one maid, or\nmatron, of honor, as the picture of her father standing holding her\nbouquet and stooping over to adjust the fall of her dress, would be\ndifficult to witness with gravity.\n\nAt an average New York wedding, there are four or six bridesmaids--half of\nthe \"maids\" may be \"matrons,\" if most of the bride's \"group\" of friends\nhave married before her. It is, however, not suitable to have young\nmarried women as bridesmaids, and then have an unmarried girl as maid of\nhonor.\n\n\n=BEST MAN AND USHERS=\n\nThe bridegroom always has a best man--his brother if he has one, or his\nbest friend. The number of his ushers is in proportion to the size of the\nchurch and the number of guests invited. At a house wedding, ushers are\noften merely \"honorary\" and he may have many or none--according to the\nnumber of his friends.\n\nAs ushers and bridesmaids are chosen only from close friends of the bride\nand groom, it is scarcely necessary to suggest how to word the asking!\nUsually they are told that they are expected to serve at the time the\nengagement is announced, or at any time as they happen to meet. If school\nor college friends who live at a distance are among the number, letters\nare necessary. Such as:\n\n\"Mary and I are to be married on the tenth of November, and, of course,\nyou are to be an usher.\" Usually he adds: \"My dinner is to be on the\nseventh at eight o'clock at ----,\" naming the club or restaurant.\n\nIt is unheard of for a man to refuse--unless a bridegroom, for snobbish\nreasons, asks some one who is not really a friend at all.\n\n\n=BRIDE'S USHER AND GROOM'S BRIDESMAID=\n\nA brother of the bride, or if she has no brother, then her \"favorite\ncousin\" is always asked by the groom to be usher out of compliment to her.\n\nThe bride returns the compliment by asking the sister of the groom who is\nnearest her own age, to be bridesmaid, or if he has no sister, she asks a\ncousin or even occasionally shows her courtesy by asking the groom to name\na particular friend of his. The bride in asking her does not say:\n\n\"Will you be one of my bridesmaids because Jim wants me to ask you.\" If\nthe bridesmaid is not a particular friend of the bride, she knows\nperfectly that it is on Jim's account that she has been asked. It is the\nsame with the bride's usher. The groom merely asks him as he asks all of\nthe others.\n\nWhen a foreigner marries an American girl, his own friends being too\ndistant to serve, the ushers are chosen from among the friends of the\nbride.\n\n\n=BRIDEGROOM HAS NO TROUSSEAU=\n\nA whole outfit of new clothes is never considered necessary for a\nbridegroom, but shabby ones are scarcely appropriate. Whatever his\nwardrobe may stand in need of should be bought, if possible. He should\nhave, not necessarily new, plenty of good shirts of all kinds,\nhandkerchiefs, underwear, pajamas, socks, ties, gloves, etc., and a\ncertain number of fresh, or as good as new, suits of clothes.\n\nThere was a wedding not long ago which caused quite a lot of derisive\ncomment because the groom's mother provided him with a complete and\nelaborate trousseau from London, enormous trunks full of every sort of\nraiment imaginable. That part of it all was very nice; her mistake was in\ninviting a group of friends in to see the finery. The son was so mortified\nby this publicity that he appeared at the wedding in clothes conspicuously\nshabby, in order to counteract the \"Mama's-darling-little-newly-wed\"\neffect that the publicity of her generous outlay had produced.\n\nIt is proper and fitting for a groom to have as many new clothes as he\nneeds, or pleases, or is able to get--but they are never shown to\nindiscriminate audiences, they are not featured, and he does not go about\nlooking \"dressed up.\"\n\n\n=THE WEDDING CLOTHES OF THE BRIDEGROOM=\n\nIf he does not already possess a well fitting morning coat (often called a\ncutaway) he must order one for his wedding. The frock coat is out of\nfashion at the moment. He must also have dark striped gray trousers. At\nmany smart weddings, especially in the spring, a groom (also his best\nman) wears a white piqu\u00e9 high double-breasted waistcoat, because the more\nwhite that can be got into an otherwise sombre costume the more\nwedding-like it looks; conventionally he wears a black one to match his\ncoat, like the ushers. The white edge to a black waistcoat is not, at\npresent, very good form. As to his tie, he may choose an \"Ascot\" of black\nand white or gray patterned silk. Or he may wear a \"four-in-hand\" matching\nthose selected for the ushers, of black silk with a narrow single, or\nbroken white stripe at narrow or wide intervals. At one of the ultra smart\nweddings in New York last spring, after the London fashion, the groom and\nall the men of the wedding party wore bow ties of black silk with small\nwhite dots.\n\nWhite buckskin gloves are the smartest, but gray suede are the most\nconventional. White kid is worn only in the evening. It is even becoming\nthe fashion for ushers at small country weddings not to wear gloves at\nall! But at every wedding, great or small, city or country, etiquette\ndemands that the groom, best man, and ushers, all wear high silk hats, and\nthat the groom carry a walking stick.\n\nVery particular grooms have the soles of their shoes blacked with\n\"water-proof\" shoe polish so that when they kneel, their shoes look dark\nand neat.\n\n\n=WHAT THE BEST MAN WEARS=\n\nThe best man wears precisely what the groom wears, with only one small\nexception: the groom's boutonni\u00e8re is slightly different and more\nelaborate. The groom and best man often wear ties that are different from\nthose worn by the ushers, and occasionally white waistcoats. Otherwise the\ntwo principal men are dressed like the ushers.\n\n\n=WHAT THE USHERS WEAR=\n\nIt is of greatest importance that in dress each usher be an exact\ncounterpart of his fellows, if the picture is to be perfect.\n\nEveryone knows what a ragged-edged appearance is produced by a company of\nrecruits whose uniforms are odd lots. An after-effect of army training\nwas evident at one or two smart New York weddings where the grooms were in\neach case ex-officers and their ushers turned out in military uniformity.\nEach of these grooms sent typewritten instructions to his ushers, covering\nevery detail of the \"equipment\" exacted. Few people may have reasoned why,\nbut scarcely any one failed to notice \"what smart looking men all the\nushers were.\" It is always just such attention to detail that produces a\nperfectly finished result. The directions sent by one of the grooms was as\nfollows:\n\n    \"Wedding rehearsal on Tuesday, St. Bartholomew's at 5 P.M.\n\n    Wedding on Wednesday at 4 P.M.\n\n    Please wear:\n\n        Black calfskin low shoes.\n        Plain black silk socks.\n        Gray striped trousers (the darkest you have).\n        Morning coat and single-breasted black waistcoat.\n        White dress shirt (see that cuffs show three-quarters of\n        an inch below coat sleeves).\n        Stand-up wing collar.\n        Tie and gloves are enclosed.\n        Boutonni\u00e8re will be at the church.\n        Be at the church yourself at three o'clock, sharp.\"\n\n\n=THE HEAD USHER=\n\nUsually there is no \"head usher,\" but in certain localities courtesy\ndesignates the usher who is selected to take the bride's mother up the\naisle as the \"head,\" or \"first\" usher.\n\nVery occasionally, too, a nervous groom appoints an especially \"reliable\"\nfriend head usher so as to be sure that all details will be carried\nout--including the prompt and proper appearance at the church of the other\nushers. Usually, the ushers divide the arrangements among themselves. The\ngroom decides who goes on which aisle. One of them volunteers or is asked\nto look out for the bride's coming and to notify the groom, another is\nespecially detailed to take the two mothers up the aisle. But very often\nthis arrangement is arbitrarily decided by height. If one mother is very\ntall and the other very short, they generally go up with different ushers,\nthe tallest being chosen for the taller lady, and one of medium height for\nthe shorter.\n\n\n=THE BRIDESMAIDS' LUNCHEON=\n\nIn many sections of America, especially in the country and in small towns,\nbrides make an especial feature of asking their bridesmaids to a farewell\nluncheon. The table is elaborately decorated (invariably in pink with\nbridesmaids' roses), there is a bride's cake (lady cake) and there are\nfavors in the cake, and mottoes, and altogether it is a \"lovely party.\" In\nNew York there is nothing like that at all. If the bride chooses to give a\nluncheon to her bridesmaids on whatever day suits her best, there is no\nobjection to her doing so, or in fact, to her inviting whom she pleases to\nwhatever sort of a party her mother is willing she should give. It is not\na question of approved etiquette but of her own inclination seconded by\nthe consent of her mother!\n\nIf her mother \"keeps open house,\" probably they lunch with her many times\nbefore the wedding; if, on the other hand, it is not the habit of the\nfamily to have \"people running in for meals,\" it is not necessary that she\nask them to lunch at all. But whether they lunch often or never, the\nchances are that they are in and out of her house every day, looking at\nnew presents as they come, perhaps helping her to write the descriptions\nin the gift book, and in arranging them in the room where they are to be\ndisplayed.\n\nThe bride usually goes to oversee the last fittings of the bridesmaids'\ndresses in order to be sure that they are as she wants them. This final\ntrying-on should be arranged for several days at least before the wedding,\nso there may be sufficient time to make any alterations that are found\nnecessary. Often the bride tries on her wedding dress at the same time so\nthat she may see the effect of the whole wedding picture as it will be, or\nif she prefers, she tries on her dress at another hour alone.\n\nUsually her bridesmaids lunch quite informally with her, or come in for\ntea, the day before the wedding, and on that day the bride gives them each\n\"her present\" which is always something to wear. It may be the muffs they\nare to carry, or parasols, if they have been chosen instead of bouquets.\nThe typical \"bridesmaid's present\" is a bangle, a breast pin, a hat pin,\nwhich, according to the means of the bride, may have great or scarcely any\nintrinsic value.\n\n\n=BRIDESMAIDS AND USHERS' DINNER=\n\nIf a wedding is being held in the country, or where most of the\nbridesmaids or ushers come from a distance, and they are therefore\nstopping at the bride's house, or with her neighbors, there is naturally a\n\"dinner\" in order to provide for the visitors. But where the wedding is in\nthe city--especially when all the members of the bridal party live there\nalso--the custom of giving a dinner has gone rather out of fashion.\n\nIf the bridal party is asked to dine at the house of the bride on the\nevening before the wedding, it is usually with the purpose of gathering a\ngenerally irresponsible group of young people together, and seeing that\nthey go to the church for rehearsal, which is of all things the most\nimportant. More often the rehearsal is in the afternoon, after which the\nyoung people go to the bride's house for tea, allowing her parents to have\nher to themselves on her last evening home, and giving her a chance to go\nearly to bed so as to be as pretty as possible on the morrow.\n\n\n=THE BACHELOR DINNER=\n\nPopularly supposed to have been a frightful orgy, and now arid as the\nSahara desert and quite as flat and dreary, the bachelor dinner was in\ntruth more often than not, a sheep in wolf's clothing.\n\nIt is quite true that certain big clubs and restaurants had rooms\nespecially constructed for the purpose, with walls of stone and nothing\nbreakable within hitting distance, which certainly does rather suggest\nfrightfulness. As a matter of fact, \"an orgy\" was never looked upon with\nfavor by any but silly and wholly misguided youths, whose idea of a\nhowling good time was to make a howling noise; chiefly by singing at the\ntop of their lungs and--breaking crockery. A boisterous picture, but\nscarcely a vicious one! Especially as quantities of the cheapest glassware\nand crockery were always there for the purpose.\n\nThe breaking habit originated with drinking the bride's health and\nbreaking the stem of the wine glass, so that it \"might never serve a less\nhonorable purpose.\" A perfectly high-minded sentiment! And this same\ntime-honored custom is followed to this day. Toward the latter end of the\ndinner the groom rises, and holding a filled champagne glass aloft says:\n\"To the bride!\" Every man rises, drinks the toast standing, and then\nbreaks the delicate stem of the glass. The impulse to break more glass is\nnatural to youth, and probably still occurs. It is not hard to understand.\nThe same impulse is seen at every county fair where enthusiastic youths\n(and men) delight in shooting, or throwing balls, at clay pipes and ducks\nand--crockery!\n\nAside from toasting the bride and its glass-smashing result, the groom's\nfarewell dinner is exactly like any other \"man's dinner,\" the details\ndepending upon the extravagance or the frugality of the host, and upon\nwhether his particular friends are staid citizens of sober years or mere\nboys full of the exuberance of youth. Usually there is music of some sort,\nor \"Neapolitans\" or \"coons\" who sing, or two or three instrumental pieces,\nand the dinner party itself does the singing. Often the dinner is short\nand all go to the theater.\n\n\n=GIFTS PRESENTED TO USHERS=\n\nThe groom's presents to his ushers are always put at their places at the\nbachelor dinner. Cuff links are the most popular gift; scarf-pins in\nlocalities where they are still fashionable. Silver or gold pencils, belt\nbuckles, key-rings in gold, key-chains in silver, cigarette cases,\nbill-folders, card-cases, or other small and personal articles are\nsuitable.\n\nThe present to the best man is approximately the same, or slightly\nhandsomer than the gift to the ushers.\n\n\n=THE REHEARSAL=\n\nThe bride always directs her wedding rehearsal, but never herself takes\npart in it, as it is supposed to be bad luck. Some one else--anyone who\nhappens to be present--is appointed understudy.\n\nNearly always a few especial friends happen in, generally those who are\nprimed with advice as to how everything should be done, but the opinion of\nthe bride or the bride's mother is final.\n\n\n=VITAL IMPORTANCE OF REHEARSAL=\n\nMost of us are familiar with the wedding service, and its form seems\nsimple enough. But, unless one has by experience learned to take care of\nseemingly non-existent details, the effect (although few may be able to\nsay why) is hitchy and disjointed, and all the effort spent in preparation\nis wasted. It is not that gauche happenings are serious offenses, no\nmatter how awkward the incident. Even were the wedding party to get\nhopelessly entangled, no \"crime\" would have been committed; but any detail\nthat destroys the smoothness of the general impression is fatal to\ndignity--and dignity is the qualification necessary above all else in\nceremonial observances.\n\n\n=HOW THE PROCESSION IS DRILLED=\n\nThe organist must always be at the rehearsal, as one of the most important\ndetails is marking the time of the wedding march. Witnesses of most\nweddings can scarcely imagine that a wedding march is a _march_ at all;\nmore often than not, the heads of ushers and bridesmaids bob up and down\nlike something boiling in a pan. A perfectly drilled wedding procession,\nlike a military one, should move forward in perfect step, rising and\nfalling in a block or unit. To secure perfection of detail, the bars of\nthe processional may be counted so that the music comes to an end at\nprecisely the moment the bride and groom stand side by side at the\nchancel steps. This is not difficult; it merely takes time and attention.\n\nA wedding rehearsal should proceed as follows:\n\nFirst of all, it is necessary to determine the exact speed at which the\nmarch is to be played. The ushers are asked to try it out. They line up at\nthe door, walk forward two and two. The audience, consisting of the bride\nand her mother, and the bridesmaids, decides whether the pace \"looks\nwell.\" It must not be fast enough to look brisk, or so slow as to be\nfunereal. At one wedding the ushers counted two beats as one and the pace\nwas so slow that they all wabbled in trying to keep their balance. The\npainfulness to everyone may be imagined. On the other hand it is\nunsuitable to \"trot\" up the aisle of a church.\n\nThe \"audience\" having decided the speed, and the organist having noted the\ntempo, the entire procession, including the bridesmaids and a substitute,\ninstead of the real bride, on her father's arm, go out into the vestibule\nand make their entry. Remember, the father is an important factor in the\nceremony, and must take part in the rehearsal.\n\nThe procession is arranged according to height, the two shortest ushers\nleading--unless others of nearly the same height are found to be more\naccurate pacemakers. The bridesmaids come directly after the ushers, two\nand two, also according to height, the shortest in the lead. After the\nbridesmaids, the maid (or matron) of honor walks alone; flower girls come\nnext (if there are any) and last of all, the understudy bride leaning on\nthe arm of the father, with pages (if she has any) holding up her train.\nEach pair in the procession follows the two directly in front by four\npaces or beats of time. In the vestibule, every one in the procession must\npay attention to the feet directly in front, the pacemakers can follow the\narmy sergeant's example and say very softly \"left, left!\" At the end the\nbride counts eight beats before she and the father put \"left foot\"\nforward. The whole trick is starting; after that they just walk naturally\nto the beat of the music, but keeping the ones in front as nearly as\npossible at the same distance.\n\nAt the foot of the chancel, the ushers divide. In a small church, the\nfirst two go up the chancel steps and stand at the top; one on the right,\nthe other on the left. The second two go to a step or two below the first.\nIf there are more, they stand below again. Chalk marks can be made on the\nchancel floor if necessary, but it ought not to be difficult, except for\nvery little children who are flower girls or pages, to learn their\nposition.\n\n[Illustration: Diagram of Church]\n\nOr in a big church they go up farther, some of them lining the steps, or\nall of them in front of the choir stalls. The bridesmaids also divide,\nhalf on either side, and always stand in front of the ushers. The maid of\nhonor's place is on the left at the foot of the steps, exactly opposite\nthe best man. Flower girls and pages are put above or below the\nbridesmaids wherever it is thought \"the picture\" is best.\n\nThe grouping of the ushers and bridesmaids in the chancel or lining the\nsteps also depends upon their number and the size of the church. In any\nevent, the bridesmaids stand in front of the ushers; half of them on the\nright and half on the left. They never stand all on the bride's side, and\nthe ushers on the groom's.\n\n\n=ENTRANCE OF THE BRIDEGROOM=\n\nThe clergyman who is to perform the marriage comes into the chancel from\nthe vestry. At a few paces behind him follows the groom, who in turn is\nfollowed by the best man. The groom stops at the foot of the chancel steps\nand takes his place at the right, as indicated in the accompanying\ndiagram. His best man stands directly behind him. The ushers and\nbridesmaids always pass in front of him and take their places as noted\nabove. When the bride approaches, the groom takes only a step to meet her.\n\nA more effective greeting of the bride is possible if the door of the\nvestry opens into the chancel so that on following the clergyman, the\ngroom finds himself at the top instead of the foot of the chancel steps.\nHe goes forward to the right-hand side (his left), his best man behind\nhim, and waits where he is until his bride approaches, when he goes down\nthe steps to meet her--which is perhaps more gallant than to stand at the\nhead of the aisle, and wait for her to join him.\n\nThe real bride watches carefully how the pseudo bride takes her left hand\nfrom her father's arm, shifts her fan, or whatever represents her bouquet,\nfrom her right hand to her left, and gives her right hand to the groom. In\nthe proper maneuver the groom takes her right hand in his own right hand\nand draws it through his left arm, at the same time turning toward the\nchancel. If the service is undivided, and all of it is to be at the altar,\nthis is necessary as the bride always goes up to the altar leaning on the\narm of the groom.\n\nIf, however, the betrothal is to be read at the foot of the chancel (which\nis done at most weddings now) he may merely take her hand in his left one\nand stand as they are.\n\n\n=THE ORGANIST'S CUE=\n\nThe organist stops at the moment the bride and groom have assumed their\nplaces. That is the cue to the organist as to the number of bars necessary\nfor the procession. After the procession has practised \"marching\" two or\nthree times, everything ought to be perfect. The organist, having counted\nup the necessary bars of music, can readily give the leading ushers their\n\"music cue\"--so that they can start on the measure that will allow the\nprocession and the organ to end together. The organist can, and usually\ndoes, stop off short, but there is a better finish if the bride's giving\nher hand to the groom and taking the last step that brings her in front of\nthe chancel is timed so as to fall precisely on the last bars of the\nprocessional.\n\nNo words of the service are ever rehearsed, although all the \"positions\"\nto be taken are practised.\n\nThe pseudo bride takes the groom's left arm and goes slowly up the steps\nto the altar.\n\nThe best man follows behind and to the right of the groom, and the maid of\nhonor (or \"first\" bridesmaid) leaves her companions and advances behind\nand to the left of the bride. The pseudo bride (in pantomime) gives her\nbouquet to the maid of honor; the best man (also in pantomime) hands the\nring to the groom, this merely to see that they are at a convenient\ndistance for the services they are to perform. The recessional is played,\nand the procession goes out in reversed order. Bride and groom first, then\nbridesmaids, then ushers, again all taking pains to fall into step with\nthe leaders.\n\nOn no account must the bridesmaids walk either up or down the aisle with\nthe ushers! Once in a while the maid of honor takes the arm of the best\nman and together they follow the bride and groom out of the church. But it\ngives the impression of a double wedding and spoils the picture.\n\n\n=OBLIGATIONS OF THE BRIDEGROOM=\n\nIn order that the first days of their life together may be as perfect as\npossible, the groom must make preparations for the wedding trip long ahead\nof time, so that best accommodations can be reserved. If they are to stop\nfirst at a hotel in their own city, or one near by, he should go days or\neven weeks in advance and personally select the rooms. It is much better\nfrankly to tell the proprietor, or room clerk, at the same time asking\nhim to \"keep the secret.\" Everyone takes a friendly interest in a bridal\ncouple, and the chances are that the proprietor will try to reserve the\nprettiest rooms in the house, and give the best service.\n\nIf their first stop is to be at a distance, then he must engage train\nseats or boat stateroom, and write to the hotel of their destination far\nenough in advance to receive a written reply, so that he may be sure of\nthe accommodations they will find.\n\n\n=EXPENSE OF THE WEDDING TRIP=\n\nJust as it is contrary to all laws of etiquette for the bride to accept\nany part of her trousseau or wedding reception from the groom, so it is\nunthinkable for the bride to defray the least fraction of the cost of the\nwedding journey, no matter though she have millions in her own right, and\nhe be earning ten dollars a week. He must save up his ten dollars as long\nas necessary, and the trip can be as short as they like, but convention\nhas no rule more rigid than that the wedding trip shall be a\nresponsibility of the groom.\n\nThere are two modifications of this rule: a house may be put at their\ndisposal by a member of her family, or, if she is a widow, they may go to\none of her own, provided it is not one occupied by her with her late\nhusband. It is also quite all right for them to go away in a motor\nbelonging to her, but driven by him, and all garage expenses belong to\nhim; or if her father or other member of the family offers the use of a\nyacht or private railway car, the groom may accept but he should remember\nthat the incidental and unavoidable expense of such a \"gift\" is sometimes\ngreater than the cost of railway tickets.\n\n\n=BUYING THE WEDDING RING=\n\nIt is quite usual for the bride to go with the groom when he buys the\nwedding ring, the reason being that as it stays for life on her finger,\nshe should be allowed to choose the width and weight she likes and the\nsize she finds comfortable.\n\n\n=THE GROOM'S PRESENT TO THE BRIDE=\n\nHe is a very exceptional and enviable man who is financially able to take\nhis fianc\u00e9e to the jeweler's and let her choose what she fancies. Usually\nthe groom buys the handsomest ornament he can afford--a string of pearls\nif he has great wealth, or a diamond pendant, brooch or bracelet, or\nperhaps only the simplest bangle or charm--but whether it is of great or\nlittle worth, it must be something for her personal adornment.\n\n\n=FURTHER OBLIGATIONS OF THE GROOM=\n\nGifts must be provided for his best man and ushers, as well as their ties,\ngloves and boutonni\u00e8res, a bouquet for his bride, and the fee for the\nclergyman, which may be a ten dollar gold piece or one or two new one\nhundred dollar bills, according to his wealth and the importance of the\nwedding. Whatever the amount, it is enclosed in an envelope and taken in\ncharge by the best man who hands it to the clergyman in his vestry-room\nimmediately after the ceremony.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII\n\nTHE DAY OF THE WEDDING\n\n\nNo one is busier than the best man on the day of the wedding. His official\nposition is a cross between trained nurse, valet, general manager and\nkeeper.\n\nBright and early in the morning he hurries to the house of the groom,\ngenerally before the latter is up. Very likely they breakfast together; in\nany event, he takes the groom in charge precisely as might a guardian. He\ntakes note of his patient's general condition; if he is normal and \"fit,\"\nso much the better. If he is \"up in the air\" or \"nervous\" the best man\nmust bring him to earth and jolly him along as best he can.\n\n\n=BEST MAN AS EXPRESSMAN=\n\nHis first actual duty is that of packer and expressman; he must see that\neverything necessary for the journey is packed, and that the groom does\nnot absent-mindedly put the furnishings of his room in his valise and\nleave his belongings hanging in the closet. He must see that the clothes\nthe groom is to \"wear away\" are put into a special bag to be taken to the\nhouse of the bride (where he, as well as she, must change from wedding\ninto traveling clothes). The best man becomes expressman if the first\nstage of the wedding journey is to be to a hotel in town. He puts all the\ngroom's luggage into his own car or a taxi, drives to the bride's house,\ncarries the bag with the groom's traveling suit in it to the room set\naside for his use--usually the dressing-room of the bride's father or the\nbedroom of her brother. He then collects, according to pre-arrangement,\nthe luggage of the bride and drives with the entire equipment of both\nbride and groom to the hotel where rooms have already been engaged, sees\nit all into the rooms, and makes sure that everything is as it should be.\nIf he is very thoughtful, he may himself put flowers about the rooms. He\nalso registers for the newly-weds, takes the room key, returns to the\nhouse of the groom, gives him the key and assures him that everything at\nthe hotel is in readiness. This maneuver allows the young couple when they\narrive to go quietly to their rooms without attracting the notice of any\none, as would be the case if they arrived with baggage and were\nconspicuously shown the way by a bell-boy whose manner unmistakably\nproclaims \"Bride and Groom!\"\n\nOr, if they are going at once by boat or train, the best man takes the\nbaggage to the station, checks the large pieces, and fees a porter to see\nthat the hand luggage is put in the proper stateroom or parlor car chairs.\nIf they are going by automobile, he takes the luggage out to the garage\nand personally sees that it is bestowed in the car.\n\n\n=BEST MAN AS VALET=\n\nHis next duty is that of valet. He must see that the groom is dressed and\nready early, and plaster him up if he cuts himself shaving. If he is wise\nin his day he even provides a small bottle of adrenaline for just such an\naccident, so that plaster is unnecessary and that the groom may be whole.\nHe may need to find his collar button or even to point out the \"missing\"\nclothes that are lying in full view. He must also be sure to ask for the\nwedding ring and the clergyman's fee, and put them in his own waistcoat\npocket. A very careful best man carries a duplicate ring, in case of one\nbeing lost during the ceremony.\n\n\n=BEST MAN AS COMPANION-IN-ORDINARY=\n\nWith the bride's and groom's luggage properly bestowed, the ring and fee\nin his pocket, the groom's traveling clothes at the bride's house, the\ngroom in complete wedding attire, and himself also ready, the best man has\nnothing further to do but be gentleman-in-waiting to the groom until it is\ntime to escort him to the church, where he becomes chief of staff.\n\n\n=AT THE HOUSE OF THE BRIDE=\n\nMeanwhile, if the wedding is to be at noon, dawn will not have much more\nthan broken before the house--at least below stairs--becomes bustling.\n\nEven if the wedding is to be at four o'clock, it will still be early in\nthe morning when the business of the day begins. But let us suppose it is\nto be at noon; if the family is one that is used to assembling at an early\nbreakfast table, it is probable that the bride herself will come down for\nthis last meal alone with her family. They will, however, not be allowed\nto linger long at the table. The caterer will already be clamoring for\npossession of the dining-room--the florist will by that time already have\ndumped heaps of wire and greens into the middle of the drawing-room, if\nnot beside the table where the family are still communing with their eggs.\nThe door-bell has long ago begun to ring. At first there are telegrams and\nspecial delivery letters, then as soon as the shops open, come the\nlast-moment wedding presents, notes, messages and the insistent clamor of\nthe telephone.\n\nNext, excited voices in the hall announce members of the family who come\nfrom a distance. They all want to kiss the bride, they all want rooms to\ndress in, they all want to talk. Also comes the hairdresser, to do the\nbride's or her mother's or aunt's or grandmother's hair, or all of them;\nthe manicure, the masseuse--any one else that may have been thought\nnecessary to give final beautifying touches to any or all of the female\nmembers of the household. The dozen and one articles from the caterer are\nmeantime being carried in at the basement door; made dishes, and dishes in\nthe making, raw materials of which others are to be made; folding chairs,\nsmall tables, chinaware, glassware, napery, knives, forks and spoons--it\nis a struggle to get in or out of the kitchen or area door.\n\nThe bride's mother consults the florist for the third and last time as to\nwhether the bridal couple had not better receive in the library because of\nthe bay window which lends itself easily to the decoration of a\nbackground, and because the room, is, if anything, larger than the\ndrawing-room. And for the third time, the florist agrees about the\nadvantage of the window but points out that the library has only one\nnarrow door and that the drawing-room is much better, because it has two\nwide ones and guests going into the room will not be blocked in the\ndoorway by others coming out.\n\nThe best man turns up and wants the bride's luggage.\n\nThe head usher comes to ask whether the Joneses to be seated in the fourth\npew are the tall dark ones or the blond ones, and whether he had not\nbetter put some of the Titheringtons who belong in the eighth pew also in\nthe seventh, as there are nine Titheringtons and the Eminents in the\nseventh pew are only four.\n\nA bridesmaid-elect hurries up the steps, runs into the best man carrying\nout the luggage; much conversation and giggling and guessing as to where\nthe luggage is going. Best man very important, also very noble and silent.\nBridesmaid shrugs her shoulders, dashes up to the bride's room and dashes\ndown again.\n\nMore presents arrive. The furniture movers have come and are carting lumps\nof heaviness up the stairs to the attic and down the stairs to the cellar.\nIt is all very like an ant-hill. Some are steadily going forward with the\nbusiness in hand, but others who have become quite bewildered, seem to be\nscurrying aimlessly this way and that, picking something up only to put it\ndown again.\n\n\n=THE DRAWING-ROOM=\n\nHere, where the bride and groom are to receive, one can not tell yet what\nthe decoration is to be. Perhaps it is a hedged-in garden scene, a palm\ngrove, a flowering recess, a screen and canopy of wedding bells--but a\nbower of foliage of some sort is gradually taking shape.\n\n\n=THE DINING-ROOM=\n\nThe dining-room, too, blossoms with plants and flowers. Perhaps its space\nand that of a tent adjoining is filled with little tables, or perhaps a\nsingle row of camp chairs stands flat against the walls, and in the center\nof the room, the dining table pulled out to its farthest extent, is being\ndecked with trimmings and utensils which will be needed later when the\nspaces left at intervals for various dishes shall be occupied. Preparation\nof these dishes is meanwhile going on in the kitchen.\n\n\n=THE KITCHEN=\n\nThe caterer's chefs in white cook's caps and aprons are in possession of\nthe situation, and their assistants run here and there, bringing\ningredients as they are told; or perhaps the caterer brings everything\nalready prepared, in which case the waiters are busy unpacking the big tin\nboxes and placing the _bain-marie_ (a sort of fireless cooker receptacle\nin a tank of hot water) from which the hot food is to be served. Huge tubs\nof cracked ice in which the ice cream containers are buried are already\nstanding in the shade of the areaway or in the back yard.\n\n\n=LAST PREPARATIONS=\n\nBack again in the drawing-room, the florist and his assistants are still\ntying and tacking and arranging and adjusting branches and garlands and\nsheaves and bunches, and the floor is a litter of twigs and strings and\nbroken branches. The photographer is asking that the central decoration be\nfinished so he can group his pictures, the florist assures him that he is\nas busy as possible.\n\nThe house is as cold as open windows can make it, to keep the flowers\nfresh, and to avoid stuffiness. The door-bell continues its ringing, and\nthe parlor maid finds herself a contestant in a marathon, until some one\ndecides that card envelopes and telegrams had better be left in the front\nhall.\n\nA first bridesmaid arrives. She at least is on time. All decoration\nactivity stops while she is looked at and admired. Panic seizes some one!\nThe time is too short, nothing will be ready! Some one else says the\nbridesmaid is far too early, there is no end of time.\n\nUpstairs everyone is still dressing. The father of the bride (one would\nsuppose him to be the bridegroom at least) is trying on most of his\nshirts, the floor strewn with discarded collars! The mother of the bride\nis hurrying into her wedding array so as to be ready for any emergency, as\nwell as to superintend the finishing touches to her daughter's dress and\nveil.\n\n\n=THE WEDDING DRESS=\n\nEveryone knows what a wedding dress is like. It may be of any white\nmaterial, satin, brocade, velvet, chiffon or entirely of lace. It may be\nembroidered in pearls, crystals or silver; or it may be as plain as a\nslip-cover--anything in fact that the bride fancies, and made in whatever\nfashion or period she may choose.\n\nAs for her veil in its combination of lace or tulle and orange blossoms,\nperhaps it is copied from a head-dress of Egypt or China, or from the\nsevere drapery of Rebecca herself, or proclaim the knowing touch of the\nRue de la Paix. It may have a cap, like that of a lady in a French print,\nor fall in clouds of tulle from under a little wreath, such as might be\nworn by a child Queen of the May.\n\nThe origin of the bridal veil is an unsettled question.\n\nRoman brides wore \"yellow veils,\" and veils were used in the ancient\nHebrew marriage ceremony. The veil as we use it may be a substitute for\nthe flowing tresses which in old times fell like a mantle modestly\nconcealing the bride's face and form; or it may be an amplification of the\nveil which medieval fashion added to every head-dress.\n\nIn olden days the garland rather than the veil seems to have been of\ngreatest importance. The garland was the \"coronet of the good girl,\" and\nher right to wear it was her inalienable attribute of virtue.\n\nVery old books speak of three ornaments that every virtuous bride must\nwear, \"a ring on her finger, a brooch on her breast and a garland on her\nhead.\"\n\nA bride who had no dowry of gold was said nevertheless to bring her\nhusband great treasure, if she brought him a garland--in other words, a\nvirtuous wife.\n\nAt present the veil is usually mounted by a milliner on a made foundation,\nso that it need merely be put on--but every young girl has an idea of how\nshe personally wants her wedding veil and may choose rather to put it\ntogether herself or have it done by some particular friend, whose taste\nand skill she especially admires.\n\nIf she chooses to wear a veil over her face up the aisle and during the\nceremony, the front veil is always a short separate piece about a yard\nsquare, gathered on an invisible band, and pinned with a hair pin at\neither side, after the long veil is arranged. It is taken off by the maid\nof honor when she gives back the bride's bouquet at the conclusion of the\nceremony.\n\nThe face veil is a rather old-fashioned custom, and is appropriate only\nfor a very young bride of a demure type; the tradition being that a maiden\nis too shy to face a congregation unveiled, and shows her face only when\nshe is a married woman.\n\nSome brides prefer to remove their left glove by merely pulling it inside\nout at the altar. Usually the under seam of the wedding finger of her\nglove is ripped for about two inches and she need only pull the tip off to\nhave the ring put on. Or, if the wedding is a small one, she wears no\ngloves at all.\n\nBrides have been known to choose colors other than white. Cloth of silver\nis quite conventional and so is very deep cream, but cloth of gold\nsuggests the habiliment of a widow rather than that of a virgin maid--of\nwhich the white and orange blossoms, or myrtle leaf, are the emblems.\n\nIf a bride chooses to be married in traveling dress, she has no\nbridesmaids, though she often has a maid of honor. A \"traveling\" dress is\neither a \"tailor made\" if she is going directly on a boat or train, or a\nmorning or afternoon dress--whatever she would \"wear away\" after a big\nwedding.\n\nBut to return to our particular bride; everyone seemingly is in her room,\nher mother, her grandmother, three aunts, two cousins, three bridesmaids,\nfour small children, two friends, her maid, the dressmaker and an\nassistant. Every little while, the parlor-maid brings a message or a\npackage. Her father comes in and goes out at regular intervals, in sheer\nnervousness. The rest of the bridesmaids gradually appear and distract the\nattention of the audience so that the bride has moments of being allowed\nto dress undisturbed. At last even her veil is adjusted and all present\ngasp their approval: \"How sweet!\" \"Dearest, you are too lovely!\" and\n\"Darling, how wonderful you look!\"\n\nHer father reappears: \"If you are going to have the pictures taken, you\nhad better all hurry!\"\n\n\"Oh, Mary,\" shouts some one, \"what have you on that is\n\n    Something old, something new,\n    Something borrowed, something blue,\n    And a lucky sixpence in your shoe!\"\n\n\"Let me see,\" says the bride, \"'old,' I have old lace; 'new,' I have lots\nof new! 'Borrowed,' and 'blue'?\" A chorus of voices: \"Wear my ring,\" \"Wear\nmy pin,\" \"Wear mine! It's blue!\" and some one's pin which has a blue stone\nin it, is fastened on under the trimming of her dress and serves both\nneeds. If the lucky sixpence (a dime will do) is produced, she must at\nleast pay discomfort for her \"luck.\"\n\nAgain some one suggests the photographer is waiting and time is short.\nHaving pictures taken before the ceremony is a dull custom, because it is\ntiring to sit for one's photograph at best, and to attempt anything so\ndelaying as posing at the moment when the procession ought to be starting,\nis as trying to the nerves as it is exhausting, and more than one wedding\nprocession has consisted of very \"dragged out\" young women in consequence.\n\nAt a country wedding it is very easy to take the pictures out on the lawn\nat the end of the reception and just before the bride goes to dress.\nSometimes in a town house, they are taken in an up-stairs room at that\nsame hour; but usually the bride is dressed and her bridesmaids arrive at\nher house fully half an hour before the time necessary to leave for the\nchurch, and pictures of the group are taken as well as several of the\nbride alone--with special lights--against the background where she will\nstand and receive.\n\n\n=PROCESSION TO CHURCH=\n\nWhether the pictures are taken before the wedding or after, the\nbridesmaids always meet at the house of the bride, where they also receive\ntheir bouquets. When it is time to go to the church, there are several\ncarriages or motors drawn up at the house. The bride's mother drives away\nin the first, usually alone, or she may, if she chooses, take one or two\nbridesmaids in her car, but she must reserve room for her husband who will\nreturn from church with her. The maid of honor, bridesmaids and flower\ngirls go in the next vehicles, which may be their own or else are supplied\nby the bride's family; and last of all, comes the bride's carriage, which\nalways has a wedding appearance. If it is a brougham, the horses'\nheadpieces are decorated with white flowers and the coachman wears a white\nboutonni\u00e8re; if it is a motor, the chauffeur wears a small bunch of white\nflowers on his coat, and white gloves, and has all the tires painted white\nto give the car a wedding appearance. The bride drives to the church with\nher father only. Her carriage arrives last of the procession, and stands\nwithout moving, in front of the awning, until she and her husband (in\nplace of her father) return from the ceremony and drive back to the house\nfor the breakfast or reception.\n\nIf she has no father, this part is taken by an uncle, a brother, a cousin,\nher guardian, or other close male connection of her family.\n\nIf it should happen that the bride has neither father nor very near male\nrelative, or guardian, she walks up the aisle alone. At the point in the\nceremony when the clergyman asks who gives the bride, if the betrothal is\nread at the chancel steps, her mother goes forward and performs the office\nin exactly the same way that her father would have done.\n\nIf the entire ceremony is at the altar, the mother merely stays where she\nis standing in her proper place at the end of the first pew on the left,\nand says very distinctly, \"I do.\"\n\n\n=AT THE CHURCH=\n\nMeanwhile, about an hour before the time for the ceremony, the ushers\narrive at the church and the sexton turns his guardianship over to them.\nThey leave their hats in the vestry, or coat room. Their boutonni\u00e8res,\nsent by the groom, should be waiting in the vestibule. They should be in\ncharge of a boy from the florist's, who has nothing else on his mind but\nto see that they are there, that they are fresh and that the ushers get\nthem. Each man puts one in his buttonhole, and also puts on his gloves.\nThe head usher decides (or the groom has already told them) to which\nushers are apportioned the center, and to which the side aisles. If it is\na big church with side aisles and gallery, and there are only six ushers,\nfour will be put in the center aisle, and two in the side. Guests who\nchoose to sit up in the gallery find places for themselves.\n\nOften, at a big wedding, the sexton or one of his assistants guards the\nentrance to the gallery and admission is reserved by cards for the\nemployees of both families, but usually the gallery is open to those who\ncare to go up. An usher whose \"place\" is in the side aisle may escort\noccasional personal friends of his own down the center aisle if he happens\nto be unoccupied at the moment of their entrance. Those of the ushers who\nare the most likely to recognize the various close friends and members of\neach family are invariably detailed to the center aisle. A brother of the\nbride, for instance, is always chosen for this aisle because he is best\nfitted to look out for his own relatives and to place them according to\ntheir near or distant kinship. A second usher should be either a brother\nof the groom or a near relative who would be able to recognize the family\nand close friends of the groom.\n\nThe first six to twenty pews on both sides of the center aisle are fenced\noff with white ribbons into a reserved enclosure. The parents of the bride\nalways sit in the first pew on the left (facing the chancel); the parents\nof the groom always sit in the first pew on the right. The right hand side\nof the church is the groom's side always, the left is that of the bride.\n\n[Illustration: A CHURCH WEDDING\n\"In the city or country the church is\ndecorated with masses of flowers, greens and sprays of flowers at the ends\nof the six to twenty reserved pews.\" [Page 354.]]\n\n\n=SEATING THE GUESTS=\n\nIt is the duty of the ushers to show all guests to their places. An usher\noffers his arm to each lady as she arrives, whether he knows her\npersonally or not. If the vestibule is very crowded and several ladies are\ntogether, he sometimes gives his arm to the older and asks the others to\nfollow. But this is not done unless the crowd is great and the time short.\n\nIf the usher thinks a guest belongs in front of the ribbons though she\nfails to present her card, he always asks at once \"Have you a pew number?\"\nIf she has, he then shows her to her place. If she has none, he asks\nwhether she prefers to sit on the bride's side or the groom's and gives\nher the best seat vacant in the unreserved part of the church. He\ngenerally makes a few polite remarks as he takes her up the aisle. Such\nas:\n\n\"I am so sorry you came late, all the good seats are taken further up.\" Or\n\"Isn't it lucky they have such a beautiful day?\" or \"Too bad it is\nraining.\" Or, perhaps the lady is first in making a similar remark or two\nto him.\n\nWhatever conversation there is, is carried on in a low voice, not,\nhowever, whispered or solemn. The deportment of the ushers should be\nnatural but at the same time dignified and quiet in consideration of the\nfact that they are in church. They must not trot up and down the aisles in\na bustling manner; yet they must be fairly agile, as the vestibule is\npacked with guests who have all to be seated as expeditiously as possible.\n\nThe guests without reserved cards should arrive first in order to find\ngood places; then come the reserved seat guests; and lastly, the immediate\nmembers of the families, who all have especial places in the front pews\nheld for them.\n\nIt is not customary for one who is in deep mourning to go to a wedding,\nbut there can be little criticism of an intimate friend who takes a place\nin the gallery of the church from which she can see the ceremony and yet\nbe apart from the wedding guests. At a wedding that is necessarily small\nbecause of mourning, the women of the family usually lay aside black for\nthat one occasion and wear white.\n\n\n_In Front of the Ribbons_\n\nThere are two ways in which people \"in front of the ribbons\" are seated.\nThe less efficient way is by means of a typewritten list of those for whom\nseats are reserved and of the pews in which they are to be seated, given\nto each usher, who has read it over for each guest who arrives at the\nchurch. From every point of view, the typewritten list is bad; first, it\nwastes time, and as everyone arrives at the same moment, and every lady is\nsupposed to be taken personally up the aisle \"on the arm\" of an usher, the\ntime consumed while each usher looks up each name on several gradually\nrumpling or tearing sheets of paper is easily imagined. Besides which, one\nwho is at all intimate with either family can not help feeling in some\ndegree slighted when, on giving one's name, the usher looks for it in\nvain.\n\nThe second, and far better method, is to have a pew card sent, enclosed\nwith the wedding invitation, or an inscribed visiting card sent by either\nfamily. A guest who has a card with \"Pew No. 12\" on it, knows, and the\nusher knows, exactly where she is to go. Or if she has a card saying\n\"Reserved\" or \"Before the ribbons\" or any special mark that means in the\nreserved section but no especial pew, the usher puts her in the \"best\nposition available\" behind the first two or three numbered rows that are\nsaved for the immediate family, and in front of the ribbons marking the\nreserved enclosure.\n\nIt is sometimes well for the head usher to ask the bride's mother if she\nis sure she has allowed enough pews in the reserved section to seat all\nthose with cards. Arranging definite seat numbers has one disadvantage;\none pew may have every seat occupied and another may be almost empty. In\nthat case an usher can, just before the procession is to form, shift a\ncertain few people out of the crowded pews into the others. But it would\nbe a breach of etiquette for people to re-seat themselves, and no one\nshould be seated after the entrance of the bride's mother.\n\n\n=THE BRIDEGROOM WAITS=\n\nMeanwhile, about fifteen minutes before the wedding hour, the groom and\nhis best man--both in morning coats, top-hats, boutonni\u00e8res and white\nbuckskin (but remember not shiny) gloves, walk or drive to the church and\nenter the side door which leads to the vestry. There they sit, or in the\nclergyman's study, until the sexton or an usher comes to say that the\nbride has arrived.\n\n\n=THE PERFECTLY MANAGED WEDDING=\n\nAt a perfectly managed wedding, the bride arrives exactly one minute (to\ngive a last comer time to find place) after the hour. Two or three\nservants have been sent to wait in the vestibule to help the bride and\nbridesmaids off with their wraps and hold them until they are needed after\nthe ceremony. The groom's mother and father also are waiting in the\nvestibule. As the carriage of the bride's mother drives up, an usher goes\nas quickly as he can to tell the groom, and any brothers or sisters of the\nbride or groom, who are not to take part in the wedding procession and\nhave arrived in their mother's carriage, are now taken by ushers to their\nplaces in the front pews. The moment the entire wedding party is at the\nchurch, the doors between the vestibule and the church are _closed_. No\none is seated after this, except the parents of the young couple. The\nproper procedure should be carried out with military exactness, and is as\nfollows:\n\nThe groom's mother goes down the aisle on the arm of the head usher and\ntakes her place in the first pew on the right; the groom's father follows\nalone, and takes his place beside her; the same usher returns to the\nvestibule and immediately escorts the bride's mother; he should then have\ntime to return to the vestibule and take his place in the procession. The\nbeginning of the wedding march should sound just as the usher returns to\nthe head of the aisle. To repeat: _No other person should be seated after\nthe mother of the bride._ Guests who arrive later must stand in the\nvestibule or go into the gallery.\n\nThe sound of the music is also the cue for the clergyman to enter the\nchancel, followed by the groom and his best man. The two latter wear\ngloves but have left their hats and sticks in the vestry-room.\n\nThe groom stands on the right hand side at the head of the aisle, but if\nthe vestry opens into the chancel, he sometimes stands at the top of the\nfirst few steps. He removes his right glove and holds it in his left hand.\nThe best man remains always directly back and to the right of the groom,\nand does _not_ remove his glove.\n\n\n=HERE COMES THE BRIDE=\n\nThe description of the procession is given in detail on a preceding page\nin the \"Wedding Rehearsal\" section.\n\nStarting on the right measure and keeping perfect time, the ushers come,\ntwo by two, four paces apart; then the bridesmaids (if any) at the same\ndistance exactly; then the maid of honor alone; then the flower girls (if\nany); then, at a _double distance_, the bride on her father's right arm.\nShe is dressed always in white, with a veil of lace or tulle. Usually she\ncarries a bridal bouquet of white flowers, either short, or with streamers\n(narrow ribbons with little bunches of blossoms on the end of each) or\ntrailing vines, or maybe she holds a long sheaf of stiff flowers such as\nlilies on her arm. Or perhaps she carries a prayer book instead of a\nbouquet.\n\n\n=THE GROOM COMES FORWARD TO MEET THE BRIDE=\n\nAs the bride approaches, the groom waits at the foot of the steps (unless\nhe comes down the steps to meet her). The bride relinquishes her father's\narm, changes her bouquet from her right to her left, and gives her right\nhand to the groom. The groom, taking her hand in his right puts it through\nhis left arm--just her finger tips should rest near the bend of his\nelbow--and turns to face the chancel as he does so. It does not matter\nwhether she takes his arm or whether they stand hand in hand at the foot\nof the chancel in front of the clergyman.\n\n\n=HER FATHER GIVES HER AWAY=\n\nHer father has remained where she left him, on her left and a step or two\nbehind her. The clergyman stands a step or two above them, and reads the\nbetrothal. When he says \"Who giveth this woman to be married?\" the father\ngoes forward, still on her left, and half way between her and the\nclergyman, but not in front of either, the bride turns slightly toward her\nfather, and gives him her right hand, the father puts her hand into that\nof the clergyman and says at the same moment: \"I do!\" He then takes his\nplace next to his wife at the end of the first pew on the left.\n\n\n=THE MARRIAGE CEREMONY=\n\nA soloist or the choir then sings while the clergyman slowly ascends to\nthe altar, before which the marriage is performed. The bride and groom\nfollow slowly, the fingers of her right hand on his left arm.\n\nThe maid of honor, or else the first bridesmaid, moves out of line and\nfollows on the left hand side until she stands immediately below the\nbride. The best man takes the same position exactly on the right behind\nthe groom. At the termination of the anthem, the bride hands her bouquet\nto the maid of honor (or her prayer-book to the clergyman) and the bride\nand groom plight their troth.\n\nWhen it is time for the ring, the best man produces it from his pocket. If\nin the handling from best man to groom, to clergyman, to groom again, and\nfinally to the bride's finger, it should slip and fall, the best man must\npick it up if he can without searching; if not, he quietly produces the\nduplicate which all careful best men carry in the other waistcoat pocket,\nand the ceremony proceeds. The lost ring--or the unused extra one--is\nreturned to the jeweler's next day. Which ring, under the circumstances,\nthe bride keeps, is a question as hard to answer as that of the Lady or\nthe Tiger. Would she prefer the substitute ring that was actually the one\nshe was married with? Or the one her husband bought and had marked for\nher? Or would she prefer not to have a substitute ring and have the whole\nwedding party on their knees searching? She alone can decide. Fortunately,\neven if the clergyman is very old and his hand shaky, a substitute is\nseldom necessary.\n\nThe wedding ring must not be put above the engagement ring. On her wedding\nday a bride either leaves her engagement ring at home when she goes to\nchurch or wears it on her right hand.\n\n\n=AFTER THE CEREMONY=\n\nAt the conclusion of the ceremony, the minister congratulates the new\ncouple. The organ begins the recessional. The bride takes her bouquet from\nher maid of honor (who removes the veil if she wore one over her face).\nShe then turns toward her husband--her bouquet in her right hand--and puts\nher left hand through his right arm, and they descend the steps.\n\nThe maid of honor, handing her own bouquet to a second bridesmaid, follows\na short distance after the bride, at the same time stooping and\nstraightening out the long train and veil. The bride and groom go on down\nthe aisle. The best man disappears into the vestry room. At a perfectly\nconducted wedding he does not walk down the aisle with the maid of honor.\nThe maid of honor recovers her bouquet and walks alone. If a bridesmaid\nperforms the office of maid of honor, she takes her place among her\ncompanion bridesmaids who go next; and the ushers go last.\n\nThe best man has meanwhile collected the groom's belongings and dashed out\nof the side entrance and around to the front to give the groom his hat and\nstick. Sometimes the sexton takes charge of the groom's hat and stick and\nhands them to him at the church door as he goes out. But in either case\nthe best man always hurries around to see the bride and groom into their\ncarriage, which has been standing at the entrance to the awning since she\nand her father alighted from it.\n\nAll the other conveyances are drawn up in the reverse order from that in\nwhich they arrived. The bride's carriage leaves first, next come those of\nthe bridesmaids, next the bride's mother and father, next the groom's\nmother and father, then the nearest members of both families, and finally\nall the other guests in the order of their being able to find their\nconveyances.\n\nThe best man goes back to the vestry, where he gives the fee to the\nclergyman, collects his own hat, and coat if he has one, and goes to the\nbride's house.\n\nAs soon as the recessional is over, the ushers hurry back and escort to\nthe door all the ladies who were in the first pews, according to the order\nof precedence; the bride's mother first, then the groom's mother, then the\nother occupants of the first pew on either side, then the second and third\npews, until all members of the immediate families have left the church.\nMeanwhile it is a breach of etiquette for other guests to leave their\nplaces. At some weddings, just before the bride's arrival, the ushers run\nribbons down the whole length of the center aisle, fencing the\ncongregation in. As soon as the occupants of the first pews have left, the\nribbons are removed and all the other guests go out by themselves, the\nushers having by that time hurried to the bride's house to make themselves\nuseful at the reception.\n\n\n=AT THE HOUSE=\n\nAn awning makes a covered way from the edge of the curb to the front door.\nAt the lower end the chauffeur (or one of the caterer's men) stands to\nopen the carriage door; and give return checks to the chauffeurs and their\nemployers. Inside the house the florist has finished, an orchestra is\nplaying in the hall or library, everything is in perfect order. The bride\nand groom have taken their places in front of the elaborate setting of\nflowering plants that has been arranged for them.\n\nThe bride stands on her husband's right and her bridesmaids are either\ngrouped beyond her or else divided, half on her side and half on the side\nof the groom, forming a crescent with bride and groom in the center.\n\n\n=USHERS AT THE HOUSE=\n\nAt a small wedding the duty of ushers is personally to take guests up to\nthe bride and groom. But at a big reception where guests outnumber ushers\nfifty or a hundred to one, being personally conducted is an honor accorded\nonly to the very old, the very celebrated or the usher's own best friends.\nAll the other guests stand in a long congested line by themselves. The\nbride's mother takes her place somewhere near the entrance of the room,\nand it is for her benefit that her own butler or one furnished by the\ncaterer, asks each guest his name and then repeats it aloud. The guests\nshake hands with the hostess, and making some polite remark about the\n\"beautiful wedding\" or \"lovely bride,\" continue in line to the bridal\npair.\n\n\n=WEDDING CONVERSATION=\n\nWhat you should say in congratulating a bridal couple depends on how well\nyou know one, or both of them. But remember it is a breach of good manners\nto congratulate a bride on having secured a husband.\n\nIf you are unknown to both of them, and in a long queue, it is not even\nnecessary to give your name. You merely shake hands with the groom, say a\nformal word or two such as \"Congratulations!\"; shake hands with the bride,\nsay \"I wish you every happiness!\" and pass on.\n\nIf you know them fairly well, you may say to him \"I hope your good luck\nwill stay with you always!\" or \"I certainly do congratulate you!\" and to\nher \"I hope your whole life will be one long happiness,\" or, if you are\nmuch older than she, \"You look too lovely, dear Mary, and I hope you will\nalways be as radiant as you look to-day!\" Or, if you are a woman and a\nrelative or really close friend, you kiss the groom, saying, \"All the luck\nin the world to you, dear Jim, she certainly is lovely!\" Or, kissing the\nbride, \"Mary, darling, every good wish in the world to you!\"\n\nTo all the above, the groom and bride answer merely \"Thank you.\"\n\nA man might say to the groom \"Good luck to you, Jim, old man!\" Or, \"She is\nthe most lovely thing I have ever seen!\" And to her, \"I hope you will\nhave every happiness!\" Or \"I was just telling Jim how lucky I think he is!\nI hope you will both be very happy!\" Or, if a very close friend, also\nkissing the bride, \"All the happiness you can think of isn't as much as I\nwish you, Mary dear!\" But it cannot be too much emphasized that\npromiscuous kissing among the guests is an offense against good taste.\n\nTo a relative, or old friend of the bride, but possibly a stranger to the\ngroom, the bride always introduces her husband saying, \"Jim, this is Aunt\nKate!\" Or, \"Mrs. Neighbor, you know Jim, don't you?\" Or formally, \"Mrs.\nFaraway, may I present my husband?\"\n\nThe groom on the approach of an old friend of his, says, \"Mary, this is\ncousin Carrie.\" Or, \"Mrs. Denver, do you know Mary?\" Or, \"Hello, Steve,\nlet me introduce you to my wife; Mary, this is Steve Michigan.\" Steve says\n\"How do you do, Mrs. Smartlington!\" And Mary says, \"Of course, I have\noften heard Jim speak of you!\"\n\nThe bride with a good memory thanks each arriving person for the gift sent\nher: \"Thank you so much for the lovely candlesticks,\" or \"I can't tell you\nhow much I love the dishes!\" The person who is thanked says, \"I am so glad\nyou like it (or them),\" or \"I am so glad! I hoped you might find it\nuseful.\" Or \"I didn't have it marked, so that in case you have a\nduplicate, you can change it.\"\n\nConversation is never a fixed grouping of words that are learned or\nrecited like a part in a play; the above examples are given more to\nindicate the sort of things people in good society usually say. There is,\nhowever, one rule: Do not launch into long conversation or details of\n_yourself_, how you feel or look or what happened to you, or what _you_\nwore when you were married! Your subject must not deviate from the young\ncouple themselves, their wedding, their future.\n\nAlso be brief in order not to keep those behind waiting longer than\nnecessary. If you have anything particular to tell them, you can return\nlater when there is no longer a line. But even then, long conversation,\nespecially concerning yourself, is out of place.\n\n\n=PARENTS OF THE GROOM=\n\nThe groom's mother always receives either near the bride's mother or else\ncontinuing the line beyond the bridesmaids, and it is proper for every\nguest to shake hands with her too, whether they know her or not, but it is\nnot necessary to say anything. The bride's father sometimes stands beside\nhis wife but he usually circulates among his guests just as he would at a\nball or any other party where he is host.\n\nThe groom's father is a guest and it is not necessary for strangers to\nspeak to him, unless he stands beside his wife and, as it were,\n\"receives,\" but there is no impropriety in any one telling him how well\nthey know and like his son or his new daughter-in-law.\n\nThe guests, as soon as they have congratulated the bride and groom, go out\nand find themselves places (if it is to be a sit-down breakfast) at a\ntable.\n\n\n=DETAILS OF A SIT-DOWN BREAKFAST=\n\nUnless the house is remarkable in size, there is usually a canopied\nplatform built next to the veranda or on the lawn or over the yard of a\ncity house. The entire space is packed with little tables surrounding the\nbig one reserved for the bridal party, and at a large breakfast a second\ntable is reserved for the parents of the bride and groom and a few close,\nand especially invited, friends.\n\nPlace cards are not put on any of the small tables. All the guests, except\nthe few placed at the two reserved tables, sit with whom they like;\nsometimes by pre-arrangement, but usually where they happen to find\nfriends--and room!\n\nThe general sit-down breakfast--except in great houses like a few of those\nin Newport--is always furnished by a caterer, who brings all the food,\ntables, chairs, napery, china and glass, as well as the necessary waiters.\nThe butler and footmen belonging in the house may assist or oversee, or\ndetail themselves to other duties.\n\nSmall _menu_ cards printed in silver are put on all the tables. Sometimes\nthese cards have the crest of the bride's father embossed at the top, but\nusually the entwined initials of the bride and groom are stamped in silver\nto match the wedding cake boxes.\n\nExample:\n\n[Illustration:\nBouillon\nLobster Newburg\nSupr\u00eame of Chicken\nPeas\nAspic of Foie Gras\nCelery Salad\nIces\nCoffee]\n\nInstead of bouillon, there may be caviar or melon, or grape fruit, or a\npur\u00e9e, or clam broth. For lobster Newburg may be soft-shell crabs or\noyster p\u00e2t\u00e9, or other fish. Or the bouillon may be followed by a dish such\nas sweetbreads and mushrooms, or chicken p\u00e2t\u00e9s, or broiled chicken (a half\nof a chicken for each guest) or squab, with salad such as whole tomatoes\nfilled with celery. Or the chicken or squab may be the second course, and\nan aspic with the salad, the third. Individual ices are accompanied by\nlittle cakes of assorted variety. There used always to be champagne; a\nsubstitute is at best \"a poor thing,\" and what the prevailing one is to\nbe, is as yet not determined. Orange juice and ginger ale, or white grape\njuice and ginger ale with sugar and mint leaves are two attempts at a\nsatisfying cup that have been offered lately.\n\n\n=THE BRIDE'S TABLE=\n\nThe feature of the wedding breakfast is always the bride's table. Placed\nsometimes in the dining-room, sometimes on the veranda or in a room apart,\nthis table is larger and more elaborately decorated than any of the\nothers. There are white garlands or sprays or other arrangement of white\nflowers, and in the center as chief ornament is an elaborately iced\nwedding cake. On the top it has a bouquet of white or silver flowers, or\nconfectioner's quaint dolls representing the bride and groom. The top is\nusually made like a cover so that when the time comes for the bride to cut\nit, it is merely lifted off. The bride always cuts the cake, meaning that\nshe inserts the knife and makes one cut through the cake, after which each\nperson cuts herself or himself a slice. If there are two sets of favors\nhidden in the cake, there is a mark in the icing to distinguish the\nbridesmaids' side from that of the ushers. Articles, each wrapped in\nsilver foil, have been pushed through the bottom of the cake at intervals;\nthe bridesmaids find a ten-cent piece for riches, a little gold ring for\n\"first to be married,\" a thimble or little parrot or cat for \"old maid,\" a\nwish-bone for the \"luckiest.\" On the ushers' side, a button or dog is for\nthe bachelor, and a miniature pair of dice as a symbol of lucky chance in\nlife. The ring and ten-cent piece are the same.\n\nIf a big piece of the wedding cake is left, the bride's mother has it\nwrapped in tin foil and put in a sealed tin box and kept for the bride to\nopen on her first anniversary.\n\nThe evolution of the wedding cake began in ancient Rome where brides\ncarried wheat ears in their left hands. Later, Anglo-Saxon brides wore the\nwheat made into chaplets, and gradually the belief developed that a young\ngirl who ate of the grains of wheat which became scattered on the ground,\nwould dream of her future husband. The next step was the baking of a thin\ndry biscuit which was broken over the bride's head and the crumbs divided\namongst the guests. The next step was in making richer cake; then icing\nit, and the last instead of having it broken over her head, the bride\nbroke it herself into small pieces for the guests. Later she cut it with a\nknife.\n\n\n=THE TABLE OF THE BRIDE'S PARENTS=\n\nThe table of the bride's parents differs from other tables in nothing\nexcept in its larger size, and the place cards for those who have been\ninvited to sit there. The groom's father always sits on the right of the\nbride's mother, and the groom's mother has the place of honor on the\nhost's right. The other places at the table are occupied by distinguished\nguests who may or may not include the clergyman who performed the\nceremony. If a bishop or dean performed the ceremony, he is always\nincluded at this table and is placed at the left of the hostess, and his\nwife, if present, sits at the bride's father's left. Otherwise only\nespecially close friends of the bride's parents are invited to this table.\n\n\n=THE WEDDING CAKE=\n\nIn addition to the big cake on the bride's table, there are at all\nweddings, near the front door so that the guests may each take one as they\ngo home, little individual boxes of wedding cake, \"black\" fruit cake. Each\nbox is made of white moir\u00e9 or gros-grain paper, embossed in silver with\nthe last initial of the groom intertwined with that of the bride and tied\nwith white satin ribbon. At a sit-down breakfast the wedding cake boxes\nare sometimes put, one at each place, on the tables so that each guest may\nbe sure of receiving one, and other \"thoughtless\" ones prevented from\ncarrying more than their share away.\n\n\n=THE STANDING BREAKFAST OR RECEPTION=\n\nThe standing breakfast differs from the sit-down breakfast in service\nonly. Instead of numerous small tables at which the guests are served with\na course luncheon, a single long one is set in the dining-room. (The\nregular table pulled out to its farthest extent.) It is covered with a\nplain white damask cloth--or it may be of embroidered linen and lace\ninsertion. In the center is usually a bowl or vase or other centerpiece,\nof white flowers. On it are piles of plates, stacks of napkins and rows of\nspoons and forks at intervals, making four or possibly six piles\naltogether. Always there are dishes filled with little fancy cakes, chosen\nas much for looks as for taste. There is usually a big urn at one end\nfilled with bouillon and one at the other filled with chocolate or tea.\nIn four evenly spaced places are placed two cold dishes such as an aspic\nof chicken, or ham mousse, or a terrine de foie gras, or other aspic. The\nhot dishes may be a boned capon, vol-au-vent of sweetbread and mushrooms,\ncreamed oysters, chicken \u00e0 la King, or chicken croquettes; or there may be\ncold cuts, or celery salad, in tomato aspic. Whatever the choice may be,\nthere are two or three cold dishes and at least two hot. Whatever there\nis, must be selected with a view to its being easily eaten with a fork\nwhile the plate is held in the other hand! There are also rolls and\nbiscuits, p\u00e2t\u00e9 de foie gras or lettuce and tomato sandwiches, the former\nmade usually of split \"dinner\" rolls with p\u00e2t\u00e9 between, or thin sandwiches\nrolled like a leaf in which a moth has built a cocoon. Ices are brought in\na little later, when a number of persons have apparently finished their\n\"first course.\" Ice cream is quite as fashionable as individual \"ices.\" It\nis merely that caterers are less partial to it because it has to be cut.\n\nAfter-dinner coffee is put on a side table, as the champagne used to be.\nFrom now on there will probably be a bowl or pitchers of something with a\nlump of ice in it that can be ladled into glasses and become whatever\nthose gifted with imagination may fancy.\n\nUnless the wedding is very small, there is always a bride's table,\ndecorated exactly as that described for a sit-down breakfast, and placed\nusually in the library, but there is no especial table for the bride's\nmother and her guests--or for anyone else.\n\n\n=THE BRIDAL PARTY EAT=\n\nBy the time the sit-down breakfast has reached its second course and the\nqueue of arriving guests has dwindled and melted away, the bride and groom\ndecide that it is time they too go to breakfast. Arm in arm they lead the\nway to their own table followed by the ushers and bridesmaids. The bride\nand groom always sit next to each other, she on his right; the maid of\nhonor (or matron) is on his left, and the best man is on the right of the\nbride. Around the rest of the table come bridesmaids and ushers\nalternately. Sometimes one or two others--sisters of the bride or groom or\nintimate friends, who were not included in the wedding party, are asked to\nthe table, and when there are no bridesmaids this is always the case.\n\nThe decoration of the table, the service, the food, is exactly the same\nwhether the other guests are seated or standing. At dessert, the bride\ncuts the cake, and the bridesmaids and ushers find the luck pieces.\n\n\n=DANCING AT THE WEDDING=\n\nOn leaving their table, the bridal party join the dancing which by now has\nbegun in the drawing-room where the wedding group received. The bride and\ngroom dance at first together, and then each with bridesmaids or ushers or\nother guests. Sometimes they linger so long that those who had intended\nstaying for the \"going away\" grow weary and leave--which is often exactly\nwhat the young couple want! Unless they have to catch a train, they always\nstay until the \"crowd thins\" before going to dress for their journey. At\nlast the bride signals to her bridesmaids and leaves the room. They all\ngather at the foot of the stairs; about half way to the upper landing as\nshe goes up, she throws her bouquet, and they all try to catch it. The one\nto whom it falls is supposed to be the next married. If she has no\nbridesmaids, she sometimes collects a group of other young girls and\nthrows her bouquet to them.\n\n\n=INTO TRAVELING CLOTHES=\n\nThe bride goes up to the room that has always been hers, followed by her\nmother, sisters and bridesmaids, who stay with her while she changes into\nher traveling clothes. A few minutes after the bride has gone up-stairs,\nthe groom goes to the room reserved for him, and changes into the ordinary\nsack suit which the best man has taken there for him before the ceremony.\nHe does _not_ wear his top hat nor his wedding boutonni\u00e8re. The groom's\nclothes should be \"apparently\" new, but need not actually be so. The\nbride's clothes, on the other hand, are always brand new--every article\nthat she has on.\n\n\n=THE GOING-AWAY DRESS=\n\nA bride necessarily chooses her going-away dress according to the journey\nshe is to make. If she is starting off in an open motor, she wears a\nsuitably small motor hat and a wrap of some sort over whatever dress (or\nsuit) she chooses. If she is going on a train or boat, she wears a\n\"traveling\" dress, such as she would choose under ordinary circumstances.\nIf she is going to a nearby hotel or a country house put at her disposal,\nshe wears the sort of dress and hat suitable to town or country occasion.\nShe should not dress as though about to join a circus parade or the\nornaments on a Christmas tree, unless she wants to be stared at and\ncommented upon in a way that no one of good breeding can endure.\n\nThe average bride and groom of good taste and feeling try to be as\ninconspicuous as possible. On one occasion, in order to hide the fact that\nthey were \"bride and groom,\" a young couple \"went away\" in their oldest\nclothes and were very much pleased with their cleverness, until, pulling\nout his handkerchief, the groom scattered rice all over the floor of the\nparlor car. The bride's lament after this was--\"Why had she not worn her\nprettiest things?\"\n\nThe groom, having changed his clothes, waits up-stairs, in the hall\ngenerally, until the bride emerges from her room in her traveling clothes.\nAll the ushers shake hands with them both. His immediate family, as well\nas hers, have gradually collected--any that are missing must unfailingly\nbe sent for. The bride's mother gives her a last kiss, her bridesmaids\nhurry downstairs to have plenty of rice ready and to tell everyone below\nas they descend \"They are coming!\" A passage from the stairway and out of\nthe front door, all the way to the motor, is left free between two rows of\neager guests, their hands full of rice. Upon the waiting motor the ushers\nhave tied everything they can lay their hands on in the way of white\nribbons and shoes and slippers.\n\n\n=HERE THEY COME!=\n\nAt last the groom appears at the top of the stairs, a glimpse of the bride\nbehind him. It surely is running the gauntlet! They seemingly count \"one,\ntwo, three, go!\" With shoulders hunched and collars held tight to their\nnecks, they run through shrapnel of rice, down the stairs, out through the\nhall, down the outside steps, into the motor, slam the door, and are off!\n\nThe wedding guests stand out on the street or roadway looking after them\nfor as long as a vestige can be seen--and then gradually disperse.\n\nOccasionally young couples think it clever to slip out of the area-way, or\nover the roofs, or out of the cellar and across the garden. All this is\nsupposed to be in order to avoid being deluged with rice and having labels\nof \"newly wed\" or large white bows and odd shoes and slippers tied to\ntheir luggage.\n\nMost brides, however, agree with their guests that it is decidedly \"spoil\nsport\" to deprive a lot of friends (who have only their good luck at\nheart) of the perfectly legitimate enjoyment of throwing emblems of good\nluck after them. If one white slipper among those thrown after the motor\nlands right side up, on top of it, and stays there, greatest good fortune\nis sure to follow through life.\n\nThere was a time when the \"going away carriage\" was always furnished by\nthe groom, and this is still the case if it is a hired conveyance, but\nnowadays when nearly everyone has a motor, the newly married couple--if\nthey have no motor of their own--are sure to have one lent them by the\nfamily of one of them. Very often they have two motors and are met by a\nsecond car at an appointed place, into which they change after shaking\nthemselves free of rice. The white ribboned car returns to the house, as\nwell as the decorated and labeled luggage, which was all empty--their real\nluggage having been bestowed safely by the best man that morning in their\nhotel or boat or train. Or, it may be that they choose a novel journey,\nfor there is, of course, no regulation vehicle. They can go off in a\nlimousine, a pony cart, a yacht, a canoe, on horseback or by airplane.\nFancy alone limits the mode of travel, suggests the destination, or\ndirects the etiquette of a honeymoon.\n\n\n=BRIDE'S FIRST DUTY OF THOUGHT FOR GROOM'S PARENTS=\n\nAt the end of the wedding there is one thing the bride must not forget. As\nsoon as she is in her traveling dress, she must send a bridesmaid or\nsomeone out into the hall and ask her husband's parents to come and say\ngood-by to her. If his parents have not themselves come up-stairs to see\ntheir son, the bride must have them sent for at once!\n\nIt is very easy for a bride to forget this act of thoughtfulness and for a\ngroom to overlook the fact that he can not stop to kiss his mother good-by\non his way out of the house, and many a mother seeing her son and new\ndaughter rush past without even a glance from either of them, has returned\nhome with an ache in her heart.\n\nIt sounds improbable, doesn't it? One naturally exclaims, \"But how stupid\nof her, why didn't she go up-stairs? Why didn't her son send for her?\"\nUsually she does, or he does. But often the groom's parents are strangers;\nand if by temperament they are shy or retiring people they hesitate to go\nup-stairs in an unknown house until they are invited to. So they wait,\nfeeling sure that in good time they will be sent for. Meanwhile the bride\n\"forgets\" and it does not occur to the groom that unless he makes an\neffort while up-stairs there will be no opportunity in the dash down to\nthe carriage to recognize them--or anyone.\n\n\n=FLIPPANCY VS. RADIANCE=\n\nA completely beautiful wedding is not merely a combination of wonderful\nflowers, beautiful clothes, smoothness of detail, delicious food. These,\nthough all necessary, are external attributes. The spirit, or soul of it,\nmust have something besides; and that \"something\" is in the behavior and\nin the expression of the bride and groom.\n\nThe most beautiful wedding ever imagined could be turned from sacrament to\ncircus by the indecorous behavior of the groom and the flippancy of the\nbride. She, above all, must not reach up and wig-wag signals while she is\nreceiving, any more than she must wave to people as she goes up and down\nthe aisle of the church. She must not cling to her husband, stand\npigeon-toed, or lean against him or the wall, or any person, or thing. She\nmust not run her arm through his and let her hand flop on the other side;\nshe must not swing her arms as though they were dangling rope; she must\nnot switch herself this way and that, nor must she \"hello\" or shout. No\nmatter how young or \"natural\" and thoughtless she may be, she _must_,\nduring the ceremony and the short time that she stands beside her husband\nat the reception, assume that she has dignity.\n\nIt is not by chance that the phrase \"happy pair\" is one of the most trite\nin our language, for happiness above all is the inner essential that must\ndominate a perfect wedding. An unhappy looking bride, an unwilling looking\ngroom, turns the greatest wedding splendor into sham; without love it is a\nsacrament inadvisedly entered into, and the sight of a tragic-faced bride\nstrikes chill to the heart.\n\nThe radiance of a truly happy bride is so beautifying that even a plain\ngirl is made pretty, and a pretty one, divine. There is something glad yet\nsweet, shy yet triumphant, serious yet--radiant! There is no other way to\nput it. And a happy groom looks first of all protective--he, too, may have\nthe quality of radiance, but it is different--more directly glad. They\nboth look as though there were sunlight behind their eyes, as though their\nmouths irresistibly turned to smiles. No other quality of a bride's\nexpression is so beautiful as radiance; that visible proof of perfect\nhappiness which endears its possessor to all beholders and gives to the\nsimplest little wedding complete beauty.\n\n\n=THE HOUSE WEDDING=\n\nA house wedding involves slightly less expenditure but has the\ndisadvantage of limiting the number of guests. The ceremony is exactly the\nsame as that in a church, excepting that the procession advances through\nan aisle of white satin ribbons from the stairs down which the bridal\nparty descends, to the improvised altar. A small space near the altar is\nfenced off with other ribbons, for the family. There is a low rail of some\nsort back of which the clergyman stands, and something for the bride and\ngroom to kneel on during the prayers of the ceremony. The prayer bench is\nusually about six or eight inches high, and between three and four feet\nlong; at the back of it an upright on either end supports a crosspiece--or\naltar rail. It can be made in roughest fashion by any carpenter, or\namateur, as it is entirely hidden under leaves and flowers. On the\nkneeling surface of the bench are placed cushions rather than flowers,\nbecause the latter stain. All caterers have the necessary standards to\nwhich ribbons are tied, like the wires to telegraph poles. The top of each\nstandard is usually decorated with a spray of white flowers.\n\nAt a house wedding the bride's mother stands at the door of the\ndrawing-room--or wherever the ceremony is to be--and receives people as\nthey arrive. But the groom's mother merely takes her place near the altar\nwith the rest of the immediate family. The ushers are purely ornamental,\nunless the house is so large that \"pews\" have been installed, and the\nguests are seated as in a church. Otherwise the guests stand wherever they\ncan find places behind the aisle ribbons. Just before the bride's\nentrance, her mother goes forward and stands in the reserved part of the\nroom. The ushers go up to the top of the stairway. The wedding march\nbegins and the ushers come down two and two, followed by the bridesmaids,\nexactly as in a church, the bride coming last on her father's arm. The\nclergyman and the groom and best man have, if possible, reached the altar\nby another door. If the room has only one door, they go up the aisle a few\nmoments before the bridal procession starts.\n\nThe chief difference between a church and house wedding is that the bride\nand groom do not take a single step together. The groom meets her at the\npoint where the service is read. After the ceremony, there is no\nrecessional. The clergyman withdraws, an usher removes the prayer bench,\nand the bride and groom merely turn where they stand, and receive the\ncongratulations of their guests, unless, of course, the house is so big\nthat they receive in another room.\n\n[Illustration: \"AN ATTRACTIVE ALTAR ARRANGEMENT FOR A HOUSE WEDDING.\"\n[Page 374.]]\n\nWhen there is no recessional, the groom always kisses the bride before\nthey turn to receive their guests--it is against all tradition for any one\nto kiss her before her husband does.\n\nThere are seldom many bridal attendants at a house wedding, two to four\nushers, and one to four bridesmaids, unless the house is an immense one.\n\nIn the country a house wedding includes one in a garden, with a wedding\nprocession under the trees, and tables out on the lawn--a perfect plan for\nCalifornia or other rainless States, but difficult to arrange on the\nAtlantic seaboard where rain is too likely to spoil everything.\n\n\n=THE WEDDING IN ASSEMBLY ROOMS=\n\nThose whose houses are very small and yet who wish to have a general\nreception, sometimes give the wedding breakfast in a hotel or assembly\nrooms. The preparations are identical with those in a private house, the\ndecorations and menu may be lavish or simple. Although it is perfectly\ngood form to hold a wedding reception in a ballroom, a breakfast in a\nprivate house, no matter how simple, has greater distinction than the most\nelaborate collation in a public establishment. Why this is so, is hard to\ndetermine. It is probably that without a \"home\" atmosphere, though it may\nbe a brilliant entertainment, the sentiment is missing.\n\n\n=THE SECOND MARRIAGE=\n\nThe detail of a spinster's wedding is the same whether she marries a\nbachelor or a widower, the difference being that a widower does not give a\n\"bachelor\" dinner.\n\nThe marriage of a widow is the same as that of a maid except that she\ncannot wear white or orange blossoms, which are emblems of virginity, nor\ndoes she have bridesmaids. Usually a widow chooses a very quiet wedding,\nbut there is no reason why she should not have a \"big wedding\" if she\ncares to, except that somber ushers and a bride in traveling dress, or at\nbest a light afternoon one with a hat, does not make an effective\nprocessional--unless she is beautiful enough to compensate for all that is\nmissing.\n\nA wedding in very best taste for a widow would be a ceremony in a small\nchurch or chapel, a few flowers or palms in the chancel the only\ndecoration, and two to four ushers. There are no ribboned-off seats, as\nonly very intimate friends are asked. The bride wears an afternoon street\ndress and hat. Her dress for a church ceremony should be more conventional\nthan if she were married at home, where she could wear a semi-evening gown\nand substitute a headdress for a hat. She could even wear a veil if it is\ncolored and does not suggest the bridal white one.\n\nA celebrated beauty wore for her second wedding in her own house, a dress\nof gold brocade, with a Russian court headdress and a veil of yellow tulle\ndown the back. Another wore a dress of gray and a Dutch cap of silver\nlace, and had her little girl in quaint cap and long dress, to match her\nown, as maid of honor.\n\nA widow has never more than one attendant and most often none. There may\nbe a sit-down breakfast afterwards, or the simplest afternoon tea; in any\ncase, the breakfast is, if possible, at the bride's own house, and the\nbridal pair may either stay where they are and have their guests take\nleave of them, or themselves drive away afterwards.\n\nVery intimate friends send presents for a second marriage but general\nacquaintances are never expected to.\n\n\n=SUMMARY OF EXPENSES=\n\nAll the expenses of a wedding belong to the bride's parents; the\ninvitations are issued by them, the reception is at their house, and the\ngroom's family are little more than ordinary guests. The cost of a wedding\nvaries as much as the cost of anything else that one has or does. A big\nfashionable wedding can total far up in the thousands and even the\nsimplest entails considerable outlay, which can, however, be modified by\nthose who are capable of doing things themselves instead of employing\nprofessional service at every point.\n\n\n=THE PARENTS OF THE BRIDE PROVIDE=\n\n1. Engraved invitations and cards.\n\n2. The service of a professional secretary who compiles a single list from\nthe various ones sent her, addresses the envelopes, both inner and outer;\nencloses the proper number of cards, seals, stamps and mails all the\ninvitations. (This item can be omitted and the work done by the family.)\n\n3. The biggest item of expense--the trousseau of the bride, which may\nconsist not alone of wearing apparel of endless variety and lavish detail,\nbut household linen of finest quality (priceless in these days) and in\nquantity sufficient for a lifetime; or it may consist of the wedding\ndress, and even that a traveling one, and one or two others, with barest\nessentials and few accessories.\n\n4. Awnings for church and house. This may be omitted at the house in good\nweather, at the church, and also in the country.\n\n5. Decorations of church and house. Cost can be eliminated by amateurs\nusing garden or field flowers.\n\n6. Choir, soloists and organist at church. (Choir and soloists\nunnecessary.)\n\n7. Orchestra at house. (This may mean fifty pieces with two leaders or it\nmay mean a piano, violin and drum, or a violin, harp and guitar.)\n\n8. Carriages or motors for the bridal party from house to church and back.\n\n9. The collation, which may be the most elaborate sit-down luncheon or the\nsimplest afternoon tea.\n\n10. Boxes of wedding cake.\n\n11. Champagne--used to be one of the biggest items, as a fashionable\nwedding without plenty of it was unheard of. Perhaps though, pocketbooks\nmay have less relief on account of its omission than would at first seem\nprobable, since what is saved on the wine bill is made up for on the\nadditional food necessary to make the best wineless menu seem other than\nmeagre.\n\n12. The bride's presents to her bridesmaids. (May be jewels of value or\ntrinkets of trifling cost.)\n\n13. A wedding present to the bride from each member of her family--not\ncounting her trousseau which is merely part of the wedding.\n\n14. The bride gives a \"wedding present\" or a \"wedding\" ring or both to the\ngroom, if she especially wants to. (Not necessary nor even customary.)\n\n\n=THE GROOM'S EXPENSES ARE=\n\n1. The engagement ring--as handsome as he can possibly afford.\n\n2. A wedding present--jewels if he is able, always something for her\npersonal adornment.\n\n3. His bachelor dinner.\n\n4. The marriage license.\n\n5. A personal gift to his best man and each of his ushers.\n\n6. To each of the above he gives their wedding ties, gloves and\nboutonni\u00e8res.\n\n7. The bouquet carried by the bride. In many cities it is said to be the\ncustom for the bride to send boutonni\u00e8res to the ushers and for the groom\nto order the bouquets of the bridesmaids. In New York's smart world, the\nbridesmaids' bouquets are looked upon as part of the decorative\narrangement, all of which is in the province of the bride's parents.\n\n8. The wedding ring.\n\n9. The clergyman's fee.\n\n10. From the moment the bride and groom start off on their wedding trip,\nall the expenditure becomes his.\n\n\n=WEDDING ANNIVERSARIES=\n\n   1 year, paper\n   5 years, wood\n  10 years, tin\n  15 years, crystal\n  20 years, china\n  25 years, silver\n  50 years, gold\n  75 years, diamond\n\nWedding anniversaries are celebrated in any number of ways. The \"party\"\nmay be one of two alone or it may be a dance. Most often it is a dinner,\nand occasionally, an afternoon tea.\n\nIn Germany a silver wedding is a very important event and a great\ncelebration is made of it, but in America it is not very good form to ask\nany but intimate friends and family to an anniversary party--especially as\nthose bidden are supposed to send presents. These need not, however, be of\nvalue; in fact the paper, wooden and tin wedding presents are seldom\nanything but jokes. Crystal is the earliest that is likely to be taken\nseriously by the gift-bearers. Silver is always serious, and the golden\nwedding a quite sacred event.\n\nMost usually this last occasion is celebrated by a large family dinner to\nwhich all the children and grandchildren are bidden. Or the married couple\nperhaps choose an afternoon at home and receive their friends and\nneighbors, who are, of course, supposed to brings presents made of gold.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII\n\nCHRISTENINGS\n\n\nA child can, of course, be christened without making a festivity of it at\nall--just as two people can be married with none but the clergyman and two\nwitnesses--but nearly every mother takes this occasion to see her friends\nand show her baby to them.\n\nInvitations to a christening are never formal, because none but the family\nand a very few intimate friends are supposed to be asked. In this day\ninvitations are nearly all sent over the telephone, except to those who\nare at a distance, or else friends are asked verbally when seen; but it is\nboth correct and polite to write notes. Such as:\n\n    Dear Mrs. Kindhart:\n\n    The baby is to be christened here at home, next Sunday at half\n    past four, and we hope you and Mr. Kindhart--and the children if\n    they care to--will come.\n\n    Affectionately,\n    Lucy Gilding.\n\nIf a telephone message is sent, the form is:\n\n    \"Mr. and Mrs. Gilding, Jr. would like Mr. and Mrs. Norman to come\n    to the baby's christening on Sunday at half past four, at their\n    house.\"\n\n\n=ASKING THE GODPARENTS=\n\nBefore setting the date for the christening, the godmothers (two for a\ngirl and one for a boy) and the godfathers (two for a boy and one for a\ngirl) have, of course, already been chosen.\n\nIf a godfather (or mother) after having given his consent is abroad or\notherwise out of reach at the time of the christening, a proxy takes part\nin the ceremony instead, and without thereby becoming a godfather. Since\ngodparents are always most intimate friends, it is natural to ask them\nwhen they come to see the mother and the baby (which they probably do\noften) or to write them if at a distance. Sometimes they are asked at the\nsame time that the baby's arrival is announced to them, occasionally even\nbefore.\n\nThe Gilding baby, for instance, supposedly sent the following telegram:\n\n    Mrs. Richard Worldly,\n      Great Estates.\n\n    I arrived last night and my mother and father were very glad to\n    see me, and I am now eagerly waiting to see you.\n\n    Your loving godson,\n          Robert Gilding, 3d.\n\nBut more usually a godparent at a distance is telegraphed:\n\n    John Strong,\n       Equitrust, Paris.\n\n    It's a boy. Will you be godfather?\n                                 Gilding.\n\nBut in any case a formally worded request is out of place. Do _not_ write:\n\n\"My husband and I sincerely hope that you will consent to be our son's\ngodmother,\" etc. Any one so slightly known as this wording implies would\nnot be asked to fill so close a position as that of godmother without\ngreat presumption on your part.\n\nYou must never ask any one to be a godmother or godfather whom you do not\nknow intimately well, as it is a responsibility not lightly to be\nundertaken and impossible to refuse. Godparents should, however, be chosen\nfrom among friends rather than relatives, since the sole advantage of\ngodparents is that they add to the child's relatives, so that if it\nshould be left alone in the world, its godparents become its protectors.\nBut where a child is born with plenty of relatives who can be called upon\nfor advice and affection and assistance in event of his or her becoming an\norphan, godparents are often chosen from among them. Nothing could be more\nsenseless, however, than choosing grandparents, since the relationship is\nas close as can be anyway, and the chances that the parents will outlive\ntheir own parents make such a choice still more unsuitable.\n\nIn France, the godmother is considered, next to the parents and\ngrandparents, the nearest relative a child can have. In some European\ncountries, the Queen or another who is above the parents in rank, assumes\na special protectorate over her godchild. In this instance the godmother\nappoints herself.\n\nIn America a similar situation cannot very well exist; though on rare\noccasions an employer volunteers to stand as godfather for an employee's\nchild. Godparents must, of course, give the baby a present, if not before,\nat least at the christening. The standard \"gift\" is a silver mug, a\nporringer, or a knife, fork and spoon, marked usually with the baby's name\nand that of the giver.\n\n    Robert Gilding, 3d\n    From his godfather\n    John Strong\n\nOr the presents may be anything else they fancy. In New England a very\nrich godfather sometimes gives the baby a bond which is kept with interest\nintact until a girl is eighteen or a boy twenty-one.\n\n\n=TIME OF CHRISTENING=\n\nIn other days of stricter observances a baby was baptized in the Catholic\nand high Episcopal church on the first or at least second Sunday after its\nbirth. But to-day the christening is usually delayed at least until the\nyoung mother is up and about again; often it is put off for months and in\nsome denominations children need not be christened until they are several\nyears old. The most usual age is from two to six months.\n\nIf the family is very high church or the baby is delicate and its\nchristening therefore takes place when it is only a week or two old, the\nmother is carried into the drawing-room and put on a sofa near the\nimprovised font. She is dressed in a becoming neglig\u00e9 and perhaps a cap,\nand with lace pillows behind her and a cover equally decorative over her\nfeet. The guests in this event are only the family and the fewest possible\nintimate friends.\n\n\n=THE CHRISTENING IN CHURCH=\n\nIn arranging for the ceremony the clergyman, of course, is consulted and\nthe place and hour arranged. If it is to be in church, it can take place\nat the close of the regular service on Sunday, but if a good deal is to be\nmade of the christening, a week day is chosen and an hour when the church\nis not being otherwise used.\n\nThe decorations, if any at all, consist of a few palms or some flowering\nplants grouped around the font, and the guests invited for the christening\ntake places in the pews which are nearest to the font, wherever that\nhappens to be. As soon as the clergyman appears, the baby's coat and cap\nare taken off (in any convenient pew, not necessarily the nearest one),\nand the godmother, holding the baby in her arms, stands directly in front\nof the clergyman. The other godparents stand beside her and other\nrelatives and friends nearby.\n\nThe godmother who is holding the baby must be sure to pronounce its name\ndistinctly--in fact it is a wise precaution if it is a long or an unusual\none, to show the name printed on a slip of paper to the clergyman\nbeforehand--as more than one baby has been given a name not intended for\nit. And whatever name the clergyman pronounces is fixed for life. The\nlittle Town girl who was to have been called Marian is actually Mary Ann!\n\nAs soon as the ceremony is over, the godmother hands the baby back to its\nnurse, who puts on its cap and coat, and it is then driven with all its\nrelatives and friends to the house of its parents or grandparents, where a\nlunch or an afternoon tea has been arranged.\n\n\n=HOUSE CHRISTENING=\n\nUnless forbidden by the church to which the baby's parents belong, the\nhouse christening is by far the easier, safer and prettier. Easier,\nbecause the baby does not have to have wraps put on and off and be taken\nout and brought in; safer, because it is not apt to catch cold; and\nprettier, for a dozen reasons.\n\nThe baby in the first place looks much prettier in a dress that has not\nbeen crushed by having a coat put over it and taken off and put on and off\nagain. In the second place, a baby brought down from the nursery without\nany fussing is generally \"good,\" whereas one that has been dressed and\nundressed and taken hither and yon is apt to be upset and therefore to\ncry. If it cries in church it just has to cry! In a house it can be taken\ninto another room and be brought back again after it has been made \"more\ncomfortable.\" It is trying to a young mother who is proud of her baby's\nlooks, to go to no end of trouble to get exquisite clothes for it, and ask\nall her friends in, and then have it look exactly like a tragedy mask\ncarved in a beet! And you can scarcely expect a self-respecting baby who\nis hauled and mauled and taken to a strange place and handed to a strange\nperson who pours cold water on it--not to protest. And alas! it has only\none means.\n\nThe arrangements made for a house christening are something like those\nmade for a house wedding--only much simpler. The drawing-room or wherever\nthe ceremony is to be performed is often decorated with pots of pale pink\nroses, or daisies, or branches of dogwood or white lilacs. Nothing is\nprettier than the blossoms of fruit trees (if they can be persuaded to\nkeep their petals on) or any other spring flowers. In summer there are all\nthe garden flowers. In autumn, cosmos and white chrysanthemums, or at any\nseason, baby's breath and roses.\n\nThe \"font\" is always a bowl--of silver usually--put on a small high table.\nA white napkin on the table inevitably suggests a restaurant rather than a\nritual and is therefore unfortunate, and most people of taste prefer to\nhave the table covered with old church brocade and an arrangement of\nflowers either standing behind or laid upon it so that the stems are\ntoward the center and covered by the base of the bowl.\n\nIf the clergyman is to wear vestments, a room must be put at his disposal.\n\nAt the hour set for the ceremony, the clergyman enters the room first and\ntakes his place at the font. The guests naturally make way, forming an\nopen aisle. If not, the baby's father or another member of the family\nclears an aisle. The godmother carries the baby and follows the clergyman;\nthe other two godparents walk behind her, and all three stand near the\nfont. At the proper moment the clergyman takes the baby, baptizes it and\nhands it back to the godmother, who holds it until the ceremony is over.\n\n\n=THE CHRISTENING DRESS=\n\nThe christening dress is always especially elaborate and beautiful. Often\nit is one that was worn by the baby's mother, father, or even its grand or\ngreat-grandparent. Baby clothes should be as sheer as possible and as\nsoft. The ideal dress is of mull with much or little valenciennes lace\n(real) and finest hand embroidery. But however much or little its\ntrimming, it must be exquisite in texture. In fact, everything for a baby\nought to be hand-made. It can be as plain as a charity garment, but of\nfine material and tiny hand stitches. If the baby is very little, it is\nusually laid on a lace trimmed pillow. (This lace, too, must be\nvalenciennes.)\n\nThe godmother or godmothers should wear the sort of clothes that they\nwould wear at an afternoon tea. The godfather or fathers should wear\nformal afternoon clothes. The other guests wear ordinary afternoon\nclothes and the mother--unless on the sofa--wears a light-colored\nafternoon dress. She should not wear black on this occasion.\n\nAs soon as the ceremony is performed, the clergyman goes to the room that\nwas set apart for him, changes into his ordinary clothes and then returns\nto the drawing-room to be one of the guests at luncheon or tea. The\ngodmother hands the baby to the nurse, or maybe to its mother, and\neveryone gathers around to admire it. And the party becomes exactly like\nevery informal afternoon tea.\n\nThe only difference between an ordinary informal tea and a christening is\nthat a feature of the latter is a christening cake and caudle. The\nchristening cake is generally a white \"lady\" cake elaborately iced,\nsometimes with the baby's initials, and garlands of pink sugar roses. And\nalthough according to cook-books caudle is a gruel, the actual \"caudle\"\ninvariably served at christenings is a hot eggnog, drunk out of little\npunch cups. One is supposed to eat the cake as a sign that one partakes of\nthe baby's hospitality, and is therefore its friend, and to drink the\ncaudle to its health and prosperity. But by this time the young host (or\nhostess) is peacefully asleep in the nursery.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV\n\nFUNERALS\n\n\nAt no time does solemnity so possess our souls as when we stand deserted\nat the brink of darkness into which our loved one has gone. And the last\nplace in the world where we would look for comfort at such a time is in\nthe seeming artificiality of etiquette; yet it is in the moment of deepest\nsorrow that etiquette performs its most vital and real service.\n\nAll set rules for social observance have for their object the smoothing of\npersonal contacts, and in nothing is smoothness so necessary as in\nobserving the solemn rites accorded our dead.\n\nIt is the time-worn servitor, Etiquette, who draws the shades, who muffles\nthe bell, who keeps the house quiet, who hushes voices and footsteps and\nsudden noises; who stands between well-meaning and importunate outsiders\nand the retirement of the bereaved; who decrees that the last rites shall\nbe performed smoothly and with beauty and gravity, so that the poignancy\nof grief may in so far as possible be assuaged.\n\n\n=FIRST DETAILS=\n\nAs soon as death occurs, some one (the trained nurse usually) draws the\nblinds in the sick-room and tells a servant to draw all the blinds of the\nhouse.\n\nIf they are not already present, the first act of some one at the bedside\nis to telephone or telegraph the immediate members of the family, the\nclergyman and the sexton of the church to which the family belong, and\npossibly one or two closest friends, whose competence and sympathy can be\ncounted on--as there are many things which must be done for the stricken\nfamily as well as for the deceased. (The sexton of nearly every Protestant\nchurch is also undertaker. If he is not, then an outside funeral director\nis sent for.)\n\nIf the illness has been a long one, it may be that the family has become\nattached to the trained nurse and no one is better fitted than she to turn\nher ministrations from the one whom she can no longer help, to those who\nhave now very real need of just such care as she can give.\n\nIf the death was sudden, or the nurse unsympathetic or for other reasons\nunavailable, then a relative or a near friend of practical sympathy is the\nideal attendant in charge.\n\n\n=CONSIDERATION FOR THE FAMILY=\n\nPersons under the shock of genuine affliction are not only upset mentally\nbut are all unbalanced physically. No matter how calm and controlled they\nseemingly may be, no one can under such circumstances be normal. Their\ndisturbed circulation makes them cold, their distress makes them unstrung,\nsleepless. Persons they normally like, they often turn from. No one should\never be forced upon those in grief, and all over-emotional people, no\nmatter how near or dear, should be barred absolutely. Although the\nknowledge that their friends love them and sorrow for them is a great\nsolace, the nearest afflicted must be protected from any one or anything\nwhich is likely to overstrain nerves already at the threatening point, and\nnone have the right to feel hurt if they are told they can neither be of\nuse nor be received. At such a time, to some people companionship is a\ncomfort, others shrink from dearest friends. One who is by choice or\naccident selected to come in contact with those in new affliction should,\nlike a trained nurse, banish all consciousness of self; otherwise he or\nshe will be or no service--and service is the only gift of value that can\nbe offered.\n\n\n=FIRST AID TO THE BEREAVED=\n\nFirst of all, the ones in sorrow should be urged if possible to sit in a\nsunny room and where there is an open fire. If they feel unequal to going\nto the table, a very little food should be taken to them on a tray. A cup\nof tea or coffee or bouillon, a little thin toast, a poached egg, milk if\nthey like it hot, or milk toast. Cold milk is bad for one who is already\nover-chilled. The cook may suggest something that appeals usually to their\ntaste--but very little should be offered at a time, for although the\nstomach may be empty, the palate rejects the thought of food, and\ndigestion is never in best order.\n\nIt sounds paradoxical to say that those in sorrow should be protected from\nall contacts, and yet that they must be constantly asked about\narrangements and given little time to remain utterly undisturbed. They\nmust think of people they want sent for, and they must decide the details\nof the funeral; when they would like it held, and whether in church or at\nthe house, whether they want special music or flowers ordered, and where\nthe interment is to be.\n\n\n=ON DUTY AT DOOR=\n\nA friend or a servant is always stationed in the hall to open the door,\nreceive notes and cards, and to take messages. In a big house the butler\nin his day clothes should answer the bell, with the parlor-maid to assist\nhim, until a footman can procure a black livery and take his or her place.\nA parlor-maid or waitress at the door should wear either a black or gray\ndress, with her plainest white apron, collar and cuffs.\n\n\n=MEMBER OF FAMILY IN CHARGE=\n\nA close friend or male member of the family should be--if not at the\ndoor--as near the front hall as possible to see the countless people with\nwhom details have to be arranged, to admit to a member of the family\nanyone they may want to see, and to give news to, or take messages from,\nothers.\n\nAs people come to the house to enquire and offer their services, he gives\nthem commissions the occasion requires. The first friend who hurries to\nthe house (in answer to the telephone message which announced the death)\nis asked to break the news to an invalid connection of the family, or he\nmay be sent to the florist to order the bell hung, or to the station to\nmeet a child arriving from school.\n\n\n=NOTICE TO PAPERS=\n\nThe sexton (or other funeral director) sends the notices to the daily\npapers announcing the death, and the time and place of the funeral. The\nform is generally selected by a member of the family from among those\nappearing in that day's newspapers. These notices are paid for by the\nsexton and put on his bill.\n\nWith the exception of the telephone messages or telegrams to relatives and\nvery intimate friends, no other notices are sent out. Only those persons\nwho are expected to go to the house at once have messages sent to them;\nall others are supposed to read the notice in the papers. When the notice\nreads \"funeral private\" and neither place nor time is given, very intimate\nfriends are supposed to ask for these details at the house; others\nunderstand they are not expected.\n\n\n=HANGING THE BELL=\n\nAs a rule the funeral director hangs crepe streamers on the bell; white\nones for a child, black and white for a young person, or black for an\nolder person. This signifies to the passerby that it is a house of\nmourning so that the bell will not be rung unnecessarily nor long.\n\nIf they prefer, the family sometimes orders a florist to hang a bunch of\nviolets or other purple flowers on black ribbon streamers, for a grown\nperson; or white violets, white carnations--any white flower without\nleaves--on the black ribbon for a young woman or man; or white flowers on\nwhite gauze or ribbon for a child.\n\n\n=CHECKING EXPENSES IN ADVANCE=\n\nIt is curious that long association with the sadness of death seems to\nhave deprived an occasional funeral director of all sense of moderation.\nWhether the temptation of \"good business\" gradually undermines his\ncharacter--knowing as he does that bereaved families ask no questions--or\nwhether his profession is merely devoid of taste, he will, if not checked,\nbring the most ornate and expensive casket in his establishment: he will\nperform every rite that his professional ingenuity for expenditure can\ndevise; he will employ every attendant he has; he will order vehicles\nnumerous enough for the cort\u00e8ge of a president; he will even, if thrown in\ncontact with a bewildered chief-mourner, secure a pledge for the erection\nof an elaborate mausoleum.\n\nSome one, therefore, who has the family's interest at heart and knows\ntheir taste and purse, should go personally to the establishment of the\nundertaker, and not only select the coffin, but go carefully into the\nspecification of all other details, so that everything necessary may be\narranged for, and unnecessary items omitted.\n\nThis does not imply that a family that prefers a very elaborate funeral\nshould not be allowed to have one; but the great majority of people have\nmoderate, rather than unlimited means, and it is not unheard of that a\nsmall estate is seriously depleted by vulgarly lavish and entirely\ninappropriate funeral expenses. One would be a poor sort who for the sake\nof friends would not willingly endure a little troublesome inquiry, rather\nthan witness a display of splurge and bad taste and realize at the same\ntime that the friends who might have been protected will be deluged with\nbills which it cannot but embarrass them to pay.\n\n\n=HONORARY PALLBEARERS=\n\nThe member of the family who is in charge will ask either when they come\nto the house, or by telephone or telegraph if they are at a distance, six\nor eight men who are close friends of the deceased to be the pallbearers.\nWhen a man has been prominent in public life, he may have twelve or more\nfrom among his political or business associates as well as his lifelong\nsocial friends. Near relatives are never chosen, as their place is with\nthe women of the family. For a young woman, her own friends or those of\nher family are chosen. It is a service that may not under any\ncircumstances except serious ill-health, be refused.\n\nThe one in charge will tell the pallbearers where they are to meet. It\nused to be customary for them to go to the house on the morning of the\nfuneral and drive to the church behind the hearse, but as everything\ntending to a conspicuous procession is being gradually done away with, it\nis often preferred to have them wait in the vestibule of the church.\n\nHonorary pallbearers serve only at church funerals; They do not carry the\ncoffin for the reason that, being unaccustomed to bearing such a burden,\none of them might possibly stumble, or at least give an impression of\nuncertainty or awkwardness that might detract from the solemnity of the\noccasion. The sexton's assistants are trained for this service, so as to\nprevent in so far as is humanly possible a blundering occurrence.\n\n\n=MOURNING FOR FUNERAL=\n\nAmong those who come to the house there is sure to be a woman friend of\nthe family whose taste and method of expenditure is similar to theirs. She\nlooks through the clothes they have, to see if there is not a black dress\nor suit that can be used, and makes a list of only the necessary articles\nwhich will have to be procured.\n\nAll dressmaking establishments give precedence to mourning orders and will\nfill a commission within twenty-four hours. These first things are made\ninvariably without bothering the wearer with fitting. Alterations, if\nrequired, are made later.\n\nOr the mourning departments of the big stores and specialty shops are\nalways willing to send a selection on approval, so that a choice can be\nmade by the family in the privacy of their own rooms. Nearly always\nacquaintances who are themselves in mourning offer to lend crepe veils,\ntoques and wraps, so that the garments which must be bought at first may\nbe as few as possible. Most women have a plain black suit, or dress, the\ntrimming of which can quickly be replaced with crepe by a maid or a\nfriend.\n\nMost men are of standard size and can go to a clothier and buy a\nready-made black suit. Otherwise they must borrow, or wear what they have,\nas no tailor can make a suit in twenty-four hours.\n\n\n=\"SITTING UP\" NO LONGER CUSTOMARY=\n\nUnless the deceased was a prelate or personage whose lying-in-state is a\npublic ceremony, or unless it is the especial wish of the relatives, the\nsolemn vigil through long nights by the side of the coffin is no longer\nessential as a mark of veneration or love for the departed.\n\nNor is the soulless body dressed in elaborate trappings of farewell\ngrandeur. Everything to-day is done to avoid unnecessary evidence of the\nchange that has taken place. In case of a very small funeral the person\nwho has passed away is sometimes left lying in bed in night clothes, or on\na sofa in a wrapper, with flowers, but no set pieces, about the room, so\nthat an invalid or other sensitive bereft one may say farewell without\never seeing the all too definite finality of a coffin. In any event the\nlast attentions are paid in accordance with the wish of those most nearly\nconcerned.\n\n\n=EXTRA WORK FOR SERVANTS=\n\nKindness of heart is latent in all of us, and servants, even if they have\nnot been long with a family, rise to the emergency of such a time as that\nof a funeral, which always puts additional work upon them and often leaves\nthem to manage under their own initiative. The house is always full of\npeople, family and intimate friends occupy all available accommodation,\nbut it is a rare household which does not give sympathy as generously\nbelow stairs as above; and he or she would be thought very heartless by\ntheir companions who did not willingly and helpfully assume a just share\nof the temporary tax on energy, time and consideration.\n\n\n=CHURCH FUNERAL=\n\nThe church funeral is the more trying, in that the family have to leave\nthe seclusion of their house and face a congregation. On the other hand,\nmany who find solemnity only in a church service with the added beauty of\nchoir and organ, prefer to take their heartrending farewell in the House\nof God.\n\n\n=ARRANGING AND RECORDING FLOWERS=\n\nAn hour before the time for the service, if the family is Protestant, one\nor two woman friends go to the church to arrange the flowers which are\nplaced about the chancel. Unless they have had unusual practise in such\narrangement they should, if possible, have the assistance of a florist, as\neffective grouping and fastening of heavy wreaths and sprays is apt to\novertax the ingenuity of novices, no matter how perfect their usual taste\nmay be.\n\nWhoever takes charge of the flowers must be sure to collect carefully all\nthe notes and cards. They should always take extra pencils in case the\npoints break, and write on the outside of each envelope a description of\nthe flowers that the card was sent with.\n\n\"Spray of Easter lilies and palm branches tied with white ribbon.\"\n\"Wreath of laurel leaves and gardenias.\"\n\"Long sheaf of pink roses and white lilacs.\"\n\nThese descriptions will afterwards help identify and recall the flowers\nwhen notes of thanks are sent.\n\nAs the appointed time for the funeral draws near, the organ plays softly,\nthe congregation gradually fills the church. The first pews on either side\nof the center aisle are left empty.\n\n\n=THE PROCESSIONAL=\n\nAt the appointed time the funeral procession forms in the vestibule. If\nthere is to be a choral service the minister and the choir enter the\nchurch from the rear, and precede the funeral cort\u00e8ge. Directly after the\nchoir and clergy come the pallbearers, two by two, then the coffin covered\nwith flowers and then the family--the chief mourner comes first, leaning\nupon the arm of her closest male relative. Usually each man is escort for\na woman, but two women or two men may walk together according to the\ndivision of the family. If the deceased is one of four sons where there is\nno daughter, the mother and father walk immediately behind the body of\ntheir child, followed by the two elder sons and behind them the younger,\nwith the nearest woman relative. If there is a grandmother, she walks with\nthe eldest son and the younger two follow together. If it is a family of\ndaughters who are following their father, the eldest daughter may walk\nwith her mother, or the mother may walk with her brother, or a son-in-law.\nAlthough the arrangement of the procession is thus fixed, those in\naffliction should be placed next to the one whose nearness may be of most\ncomfort to them. A younger child who is calm and soothing would better be\nnext to his mother than an older who is of more nervous temperament.\n\nAt the funeral of a woman, her husband sometimes walks alone, but usually\nwith his mother or his daughter. A very few intimate friends walk at the\nrear of the family, followed by the servants of the household. At the\nchancel the choir take their accustomed places, the minister stands at the\nfoot of the chancel steps, the honorary pallbearers take their places in\nthe front pews on the left, and the coffin is set upon a stand previously\nplaced there for the purpose. The bearers of the coffin walk quietly\naround to inconspicuous stations on a side aisle. The family occupy the\nfront pews on the right, the rest of the procession fill vacant places on\neither side. The service is then read.\n\n\n=THE RECESSIONAL=\n\nUpon the conclusion of the service, the procession moves out in the same\norder as it came in excepting that the choir remain in their places and\nthe honorary pallbearers go first. Outside the church, the coffin is put\ninto the hearse, the family getting into carriages or motors waiting\nimmediately behind, and the flowers are put into a covered vehicle. (It is\nvery vulgar to fill open landaus with displayed floral offerings and\nparade through the streets.)\n\n\n=FEW GO TO THE BURIAL=\n\nIf the burial is in the churchyard or otherwise within walking distance,\nthe congregation naturally follows the family to the graveside. Otherwise,\nthe general congregation no longer expects, nor wishes, to go to the\ninterment which (excepting at a funeral of public importance) is witnessed\nonly by the immediate family and the most intimate friends, who are asked\nif they \"care to go.\" The long line of carriages that used to stand at the\nchurch ready to be filled with a long file of mere acquaintances is a\nbarbarous thing of the past.\n\n\n=HOUSE FUNERAL=\n\nMany people prefer a house funeral--it is simpler, more private, and\nobviates the necessity for those in sorrow to face people. The nearest\nrelatives may stay apart in an adjoining room or even upon the upper\nfloor, where they can hear the service but remain in unseen seclusion.\n\nLadies keep their wraps on. Gentlemen wear their overcoats or carry them\non their arms and hold their hats in their hands.\n\n\n=MUSIC=\n\nTo many people there is lack of solemnity in a service outside of a church\nand lacking the accompaniment of the organ. It is almost impossible to\nintroduce orchestral music that does not sound either dangerously\nsuggestive of the gaiety of entertainment or else thin and flat. A quartet\nor choral singing is beautiful and appropriate, if available, otherwise\nthere is usually no music at a house funeral.\n\n\n=HOUSE ARRANGEMENT=\n\nSome authorities say that only the flowers sent by very close friends\nshould be shown at a house funeral, and that it is ostentatious to make a\ndisplay. But when people, or societies, have been kind enough to send\nflowers, it would certainly be wanting in appreciation, to say the least,\nto relegate their offerings to the back yard--or wherever it is that the\ncavilers would have them hid!\n\nIn a small house where flowers would be overpowering, it is customary to\ninsert in the death notice: \"It is requested that no flowers be sent,\" or\n\"Kindly omit flowers.\"\n\nArrangement for the service is usually made in the drawing-room, and the\ncoffin is placed in front of the mantel, or between the windows, but\nalways at a distance from the door, usually on stands brought by the\nfuneral director, who also brings enough camp chairs to fill the room\nwithout crowding. A friend, or a member of the family, collects the cards\nand arranges the flowers behind and at the side and against the stands of\nthe coffin. If there is to be a blanket or pall of smilax or other leaves\nwith or without flowers, fastened to a frame, or sewed on thin material\nand made into a covering, it is always ordered by the family. Otherwise,\nthe wreaths to be placed on the coffin are chosen from among those sent by\nthe family.\n\n\n=THE SERVICE=\n\nAs friends arrive, they are shown to the room where the ceremony is to be\nheld, but they take their own places. A room must be apportioned to the\nminister in which to put on his vestments. At the hour set for the funeral\nthe immediate family, if they feel like being present, take their places\nin the front row of chairs. The women wear small hats or toques and long\ncrepe veils over their faces, so that their countenances may be hidden.\nThe minister takes his stand at the head of the coffin and reads the\nservice.\n\nAt its conclusion the coffin is carried out to the hearse, which, followed\nby a small number of carriages, proceeds to the cemetery.\n\nIt is very rare nowadays for any but a small group of relatives and\nintimate men friends to go to the cemetery, and it is not thought unloving\nor slighting of the dead for no women at all to be at the graveside. If\nany women are to be present and the interment is to be in the ground, some\none should order the grave lined with boughs and green branches--to lessen\nthe impression of bare earth.\n\n\n=DISTANT COUNTRY FUNERAL=\n\nIn the country where relatives and friends arrive by train, carriages or\nmotors must be provided to convey them to the house or church or cemetery.\nIf the clergyman has no conveyance of his own, he must always be sent for,\nand if the funeral is in a house, a room must be set apart for him in\nwhich to change his clothes.\n\nIt is unusual for a family to provide a \"special car.\" Sometimes the hour\nof the funeral is announced in the papers as taking place on the arrival\nof a certain train, but everyone who attends is expected to pay his own\nrailway fare and make, if necessary, his own arrangements for lunch.\n\nOnly when the country place where the funeral is held is at a distance\nfrom town and a long drive from the railway station, a light repast of\nbouillon, rolls and tea and sandwiches may be spread on the dining-room\ntable. Otherwise refreshments are never offered--except to those of the\nfamily, of course, who are staying in the house.\n\n\n=HOUSE RESTORED TO ORDER=\n\nWhile the funeral cort\u00e8ge is still at the cemetery, some one who is in\ncharge at home must see that the mourning emblem is taken off the bell,\nthat the windows are opened, the house aired from the excessive odor of\nflowers, and the blinds pulled up. Any furniture that has been displaced\nshould be put back where it belongs, and unless the day is too hot a fire\nshould be lighted in the library or principal bedroom to make a little\nmore cheerful the sad home-coming of the family. It is also well to\nprepare a little hot tea or broth, and it should be brought them upon\ntheir return without their being asked if they would care for it. Those\nwho are in great distress want no food, but if it is handed to them, they\nwill mechanically take it, and something warm to start digestion and\nstimulate impaired circulation is what they most need.\n\n\n=MOURNING=\n\nA generation or two ago the regulations for mourning were definitely\nprescribed, definite periods according to the precise degree of\nrelationship of the mourner. One's real feelings, whether of grief or\ncomparative indifference, had nothing to do with the outward manifestation\none was obliged, in decency, to show. The tendency to-day is toward\nsincerity. People do not put on black for aunts, uncles and cousins unless\nthere is a deep tie of affection as well as of blood.\n\nMany persons to-day do not believe in going into mourning at all. There\nare some who believe, as do the races of the East, that great love should\nbe expressed in rejoicing in the re-birth of a beloved spirit instead of\nselfishly mourning their own earthly loss. But many who object to\nmanifestations of grief, find themselves impelled to wear mourning when\ntheir sorrow comes and the number of those who do not put on black is\nstill comparatively small.\n\n\n=PROTECTION OF MOURNING=\n\nIf you see acquaintances of yours in deepest mourning, it does not occur\nto you to go up to them and babble trivial topics or ask them to a dance\nor dinner. If you pass close to them, irresistible sympathy compels you\nmerely to stop and press their hand and pass on. A widow, or mother, in\nthe newness of her long veil, has her hard path made as little difficult\nas possible by everyone with whom she comes in contact, no matter on what\nerrand she may be bent. A clerk in a store will try to wait on her as\nquickly and as attentively as possible. Acquaintances avoid stopping her\nwith long conversation that could not but torture and distress her. She\nmeets small kindnesses at every turn, which save unnecessary jars to\nsupersensitive nerves.\n\nOnce in a great while, a tactless person may have no better sense than to\nask her abruptly for whom she is in mourning! Such people would not\nhesitate to walk over the graves in a cemetery! And fortunately, such\nencounters are few.\n\nSince many people, however, dislike long mourning veils and all crepe\ngenerally, it is absolutely correct to omit both if preferred, and to wear\nan untrimmed coat and hat of plainest black with or without a veil.\n\n\n=A WORD OF ECONOMY=\n\nIn the first days of stress, people sometimes give away every colored\narticle they possess and not until later are they aware of the effort\nnecessary, to say nothing of the expense, of getting an entire new\nwardrobe. Therefore it is well to remember:\n\nDresses and suits can be dyed without ripping. Any number of fabrics--all\nwoolens, soft silks, canton crepe, georgette and chiffon, dye perfectly.\nButtonholes have sometimes to be re-worked, snaps or hooks and eyes\nchanged to black, a bit of trimming taken off or covered with dull braid,\nsilk or crepe, and the clothes look every bit as well as though newly\nordered.\n\nStraw hats can be painted with an easily applied stain sold in every drug\nand department store for the purpose. If you cannot trim hats yourself, a\nmilliner can easily imitate, or, if necessary, simplify the general\noutline of the trimming as it was, and a seamstress can easily cover dyed\ntrimmings on dresses with crepe or dull silk. Also tan shoes--nearly all\nfootwear made of leather--can be dyed black and made to look like new by\nany first class shoemaker.\n\n\n=MOURNING MATERIALS=\n\nLustreless silks, such as crepe de chine, georgette, chiffon, grosgrain,\npeau de soie, dull finish charmeuse and taffeta, and all plain woolen\nmaterials, are suitable for deepest mourning. Uncut velvet is as deep\nmourning as crepe, but cut velvet is not mourning at all! Nor is satin or\nlace. The only lace permissible is a plain or hemstitched net known as\n\"footing.\"\n\nFancy weaves in stockings are not mourning, nor is bright jet or silver. A\nvery perplexing decree is that clothes entirely of white are deepest\nmourning but the addition of a black belt or hat or gloves produces second\nmourning.\n\nPatent leather and satin shoes are not mourning.\n\nPeople in second mourning wear all combinations of black and white as well\nas clothes of gray and mauve. Many of the laws for materials seem\narbitrary, and people interpret them with greater freedom than they used\nto, but never under any circumstances can one who is not entirely in\ncolors wear satin embroidered in silver or trimmed with jet and lace! With\nthe exception of wearing a small string of pearls and a single ring,\nespecially if it is an engagement ring, jewelry with deepest mourning is\nnever in good taste.\n\n\n=WHEN A VEIL IS NOT WORN=\n\nNor should a woman ever wear a crepe veil to the theater or restaurant, or\nany public place of amusement. On the other hand, people left long to\nthemselves and their own thoughts grow easily morbid, and the opera or\nconcert or an interesting play may exert a beneficial relaxation. Gay\nrestaurants with thumping strident musical accompaniment or entertainments\nof the cabaret variety, need scarcely be commented upon. But to go to a\nmatin\u00e9e with a close friend or relative is becoming more and more\nusual--and the picture theaters where one may sit in the obscurity and be\ndiverted by the story on the silver screen which, requiring no mental\neffort, often diverts a sad mind for an hour or so, is an undeniable\nblessing. An observer would have to be much at a loss for material who\ncould find anything to criticise in seeing a family together under such\ncircumstances.\n\nOne generally leaves off a long veil, however, for such an occasion and\ndrives bareheaded, if it be evening, or substitutes a short black face\nveil over one's hat on entering and leaving a building in the daytime.\n\n\n=MOURNING FOR COUNTRY WEAR=\n\nExcept for church, crepe veils and clothes heavily trimmed with crepe are\nnot appropriate in the country--ever! Mourning clothes for the summer\nconsist of plain black serge or tweed, silk or cotton material, all black\nwith white organdy collar and cuffs, and a veil-less hat with a brim. Or\none may dress entirely in dull materials of white.\n\n\n=A WIDOW'S MOURNING=\n\nA widow used never to wear any but woolen materials, made as plain as\npossible, with deep-hemmed turn-back cuffs and collar of white organdy. On\nthe street she wore a small crepe bonnet with a little cap-border of white\ncrepe or organdy and a long veil of crepe or nun's veiling to the bottom\nedge of her skirt, over her face as well as down her back. At the end of\nthree months the front veil was put back from over her face, but the long\nveil was worn two years at least, and frequently for life. These details\nare identical with those prescribed to-day excepting that she may wear\nlustreless silks as well as wool, the duration of mourning may be shorter,\nand she need never wear her veil over her face except at the funeral\nunless she chooses.\n\nA widow of mature years who follows old-fashioned conventions wears deep\nmourning with crepe veil two years, black the third year and second\nmourning the fourth. But shorter periods of mourning are becoming more and\nmore the custom and many consider three or even two years conventional.\n\n\n=THE VERY YOUNG WIDOW=\n\nThe young widow should wear deep crepe for a year and then lighter\nmourning for six months and second mourning for six months longer. There\nis nothing more utterly captivating than a sweet young face under a\nwidow's veil, and it is not to be wondered at that her own loneliness and\nneed of sympathy, combined with all that is appealing to sympathy in a\nman, results in the healing of her heart. She should, however, never\nremain in mourning for her first husband after she has decided she can be\nconsoled by a second.\n\nThere is no reason why a woman (or a man) should not find such\nconsolation, but she should keep the intruding attraction away from her\nthoughts until the year of respect is up, after which she is free to put\non colors and make happier plans.\n\n\n=MOURNING WORN BY A MOTHER=\n\nA mother who has lost a grown child wears the same mourning as that\nprescribed for a widow excepting the white cap ruche. Some mothers wear\nmourning for their children always, others do not believe in being long in\nblack for a spirit that was young, and, for babies or very young children,\nwear colorless clothes of white or gray or mauve.\n\n\n=A DAUGHTER OR SISTER=\n\nA daughter or sister wears a long veil over her face at the funeral. The\nlength of the veil may be to her waist or to the hem of her skirt, and it\nis worn for from three months to a year, according to her age and\nfeelings. An older woman wears deep black for her parents, sisters and\nbrothers for a year, and then lightens her mourning during the second\nyear. A young girl, if she is out in society or in college, may wear a\nlong veil for her parents or her betrothed, if she wants to, or she wears\na thin net veil edged with crepe and the corners falling a short way down\nher back--or none at all.\n\nVery young girls of from fourteen to eighteen wear black for three months\nand then six months of black and white. They never wear veils of any sort,\nnor are their clothes trimmed in crepe. Children from eight to fourteen\nwear black and white and gray for six months for a parent, brother, sister\nor grandparent. Young children are rarely put into mourning, though their\nclothes are often selected to avoid vivid color. They usually wear white\nwith no black except a hair ribbon for the girls and a necktie for the\nboys. Very little children in black are too pitiful.\n\n\n=EXTREME FASHION INAPPROPRIATE=\n\nFancy clothes in mourning are always offenses against good taste, because\nas the word implies, a person is in _mourning_. To have the impression\nof \"fashion\" dominant is contrary to the purpose of somber dress; it is a\ncostume for the spirit, a covering for the visible body of one whose soul\nseeks the background. Nothing can be in worse taste than crepe which is\ngathered and ruched and puffed and pleated and made into waterfalls, and\nimitation ostrich feathers as a garnishing for a hat. The more absolutely\nplain, the more appropriate and dignified is the mourning dress. A \"long\nveil\" is a shade pulled down--a protection--it should never be a flaunting\narrangement to arrest the amazed attention of the passerby.\n\nThe necessity for dignity can not be overemphasized.\n\n\n=BAD TASTE IN MOURNING=\n\nMourning observances are all matters of fixed form, and any deviation from\nprecise convention is interpreted by the world at large as signifying want\nof proper feeling.\n\nHow often has one heard said of a young woman who was perhaps merely\nignorant of the effect of her inappropriate clothes or unconventional\nbehavior: \"Look at her! And her dear father scarcely cold in his grave!\"\nOr \"Little she seems to have cared for her mother--and such a lovely one\nshe had, too.\" Such remarks are as thoughtless as are the actions of the\ndaughter, but they point to an undeniable condition. Better far not wear\nmourning at all, saying you do not believe in it, than allow your unseemly\nconduct to indicate indifference to the memory of a really beloved parent;\nbetter that a young widow should go out in scarlet and yellow on the day\nafter her husband's funeral than wear weeds which attract attention on\naccount of their flaunting bad taste and flippancy. One may not, one must\nnot, one _can not_ wear the very last cry of exaggerated fashion in crepe,\nnor may one be boisterous or flippant or sloppy in manner, without giving\nthe impression to all beholders that one's spirit is posturing, tripping,\nor dancing on the grave of sacred memory.\n\nThis may seem exaggerated, but if you examine the expressions, you will\nfind that they are essentially true.\n\nDraw the picture for yourself: A slim figure, if you like, held in the\nposture of the caterpillar slouch, a long length of stocking so thin as to\ngive the effect of shaded skin above high-heeled slippers with sparkling\nbuckles of bright jet, a short skirt, a scrappy, thin, low-necked,\nshort-sleeved blouse through which white underclothing shows various\nedgings of lace and ribbons, and on top of this, a painted face under a\nlong crepe veil! Yet the wearer of this costume may in nothing but\nappearance resemble the unmentionable class of women she suggests; as a\nmatter of fact she is very likely a perfectly decent young person and\nreally sad at heart, and her clothes and \"make up\" not different from\ncountless others who pass unnoticed because their colored clothing\nsuggests no mockery of solemnity.\n\n\n=MOURNING WEAR FOR MEN=\n\nThe necessity of business and affairs which has made withdrawal into\nseclusion impossible, has also made it customary for the majority of men\nto go into mourning by the simple expedient of putting a black band on\ntheir hat or on the left sleeve of their usual clothes and wearing only\nwhite instead of colored linen.\n\nA man never under any circumstances wears crepe. The band on his hat is of\nvery fine cloth and varies in width according to the degree of mourning\nfrom two and a half inches to within half an inch of the top of a high\nhat. On other hats the width is fixed at about two and a half or three\ninches. The sleeve band, from three and a half to four and a half inches\nin width, is of dull broadcloth on overcoats or winter clothing, and of\nserge on summer clothes. The sleeve band of mourning is sensible for many\nreasons, the first being that of economy. Men's clothes do not come\nsuccessfully from the encounter with dye vats, nor lend themselves to\n\"alterations,\" and an entire new wardrobe is an unwarranted burden to\nmost.\n\nExcept for the one black suit bought for the funeral and kept for Sunday\nchurch, or other special occasion, only wealthy men or widowers go to the\nvery considerable expense of getting a new wardrobe. Widowers--especially\nif they are elderly--always go into black (which includes very dark gray\nmixtures) with a deep black band on the hat, and of course, black ties and\nsocks and shoes and gloves.\n\n\n=CONVENTIONS OF MOURNING FOR MEN=\n\nAlthough the etiquette is less exacting, the standards of social\nobservance are much the same for a man as for a woman. A widower should\nnot be seen at any general entertainment, such as a dance, or in a box at\nthe opera, for a year; a son for six months; a brother for three--at\nleast! The length of time a father stays in mourning for a child is more a\nmatter of his own inclination.\n\n\n=MOURNING LIVERY=\n\nCoachmen and chauffeurs wear black liveries in town. In the country they\nwear gray or even their ordinary whipcord with a black band on the left\nsleeve.\n\nThe house footman is always put into a black livery with dull buttons and\na black and white striped waistcoat. Maids are not put into mourning with\nthe exception of a lady's maid or nurse who, through many years of\nservice, has \"become one of the family,\" and who personally desires to\nwear mourning as though for a relative of her own.\n\n\n=ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF SYMPATHY=\n\nIn the case of a very prominent person where messages of condolence, many\nof them impersonal, mount into the thousands, the sending of engraved\ncards to strangers is proper, such as:\n\n        Mr. W. Ide Bonds\n    wishes to gratefully acknowledge\n    your kind expression of sympathy\n\nor\n\n      Senator and Mrs. Michigan\n    wish to express their appreciation of\n\n    [HW: Miss Millicent Gildings]\n\n    sympathy in their recent bereavement\n\nUnder no circumstances should such cards be sent to intimate friends, or\nto those who have sent flowers or written personal letters.\n\nWhen some one with real sympathy in his heart has taken the trouble to\nselect and send flowers, or has gone to the house and offered what service\nhe might, or has in a spirit of genuine regard, written a personal letter,\nthe receipt of words composed by a stationer and dispatched by a\nprofessional secretary is exactly as though his outstretched hand had been\npushed aside.\n\nA family in mourning is in retirement from all social activities. There is\nno excuse on the score of their \"having no time.\" Also no one expects a\nlong letter, nor does any one look for an early reply. A personal word on\na visiting card is all any one asks for. The envelope may be addressed by\nsome one else.\n\nIt takes but a moment to write \"Thank you,\" or \"Thank you for all\nsympathy,\" or \"Thank you for your kind offers and sympathy.\" Or, on a\nsheet of letter paper:\n\n    \"Thank you, dear Mrs. Smith, for your beautiful flowers and your\n    kind sympathy.\"\n\nOr:\n\n    \"Your flowers were so beautiful! Thank you for them and for your\n    loving message.\"\n\nOr:\n\n    \"Thank you for your sweet letter. I know you meant it and I\n    appreciate it.\"\n\nMany, many such notes can be written in a day. If the list is overlong, or\nthe one who received the flowers and messages is in reality so prostrated\nthat she (or he) is unable to perform the task of writing, then some\nmember of her immediate family can write for her:\n\n    \"Mother (or father) is too ill to write and asks me to thank you\n    for your beautiful flowers and kind message.\"\n\nMost people find a sad comfort as well as pain, in the reading and\nreplying to letters and cards, but they should not sit at it too long; it\nis apt to increase rather than assuage their grief. Therefore, no one\nexpects more than a word--but that word should be _seemingly personal_.\n\n\n=OBLIGATIONS OF PRESENCE AT FUNERALS=\n\nUpon reading the death notice of a mere acquaintance you may leave your\ncard at the house, if you feel so inclined, or you may merely send your\ncard.\n\nUpon the death of an intimate acquaintance or friend you should go at once\nto the house, write, \"With sympathy\" on your card and leave it at the\ndoor. Or you should write a letter to the family; in either case, you send\nflowers addressed to the nearest relative. On the card accompanying the\nflowers, you write, \"With sympathy,\" \"With deepest sympathy,\" or \"With\nheartfelt sympathy,\" or \"With love and sympathy.\" If there is a notice in\nthe papers \"requesting no flowers be sent,\" you send them only if you are\na very intimate friend.\n\nOr if you prefer, send a few flowers with a note, immediately after the\nfuneral, to the member of the family who is particularly your friend.\n\nIf the notice says \"funeral private\" you do not go unless you have\nreceived a message from the family that you are expected, or unless you\nare such an intimate friend that you know you are expected without being\nasked. Where a general notice is published in the paper, it is proper and\nfitting that you should show sympathy by going to the funeral, even though\nyou had little more than a visiting acquaintance with the family. You\nshould _not_ leave cards nor go to a funeral of a person with whom you\nhave not in any way been associated or to whose house you have never been\nasked.\n\nBut it is heartless and delinquent if you do not go to the funeral of one\nwith whom you were associated in business or other interests, or to whose\nhouse you were often invited, or where you are a friend of the immediate\nmembers of the family.\n\nYou should wear black clothes if you have them, or if not, the darkest,\nthe least conspicuous you possess. Enter the church as quietly as\npossible, and as there are no ushers at a funeral, seat yourself where you\napproximately belong. Only a very intimate friend should take a position\nfar up on the center aisle. If you are merely an acquaintance you should\nsit inconspicuously in the rear somewhere, unless the funeral is very\nsmall and the church big, in which case you may sit on the end seat of the\ncenter aisle toward the back.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXV\n\nTHE COUNTRY HOUSE AND ITS HOSPITALITY\n\n\nThe difference between the great house with twenty to fifty guest rooms,\nall numbered like the rooms in a hotel, and the house of ordinary good\nsize with from four to six guest rooms, or the farmhouse or small cottage\nwhich has but one \"best\" spare chamber, with perhaps a \"man's room\" on the\nground floor, is much the same as the difference between the elaborate\nwedding and the simplest--one merely of degree and not of kind.\n\nTo be sure, in the great house, week-end guests often include those who\nare little more than acquaintances of the host and hostess, whereas the\nvisitor occupying the only \"spare\" room is practically always an intimate\nfriend. Excepting, therefore, that people who have few visitors never ask\nany one on their general list, and that those who fill an enormous house\ntime and time again necessarily do, the etiquette, manners, guest room\nappointments and the people who occupy them, are precisely the same.\nPopular opinion to the contrary, a man's social position is by no means\nproportionate to the size of his house, and even though he lives in a\nbungalow, he may have every bit as high a position in the world of fashion\nas his rich neighbor in his palace--often much better!\n\nWe all of us know a Mr. Newgold who would give many of the treasures in\nhis marble palace for a single invitation to Mrs. Oldname's comparatively\nlittle house, and half of all he possesses for the latter's knowledge,\nappearance, manner, instincts and position--none of which he himself is\nlikely ever to acquire, though his children may! But in our description of\ngreat or medium or small houses, we are considering those only whose\nowners belong equally to best society and where, though luxuries vary from\nthe greatest to the least, house appointments are in essentials alike.\n\nThis is a rather noteworthy fact: all people of good position talk alike,\nbehave alike and live alike. Ill-mannered servants, incorrect liveries or\nservice, sloppily dished food, carelessness in any of the details that to\nwell-bred people constitute the decencies of living, are no more tolerated\nin the smallest cottage than in the palace. But since the biggest houses\nare those which naturally attract most attention, suppose we begin our\ndetailed description with them.\n\n\n=HOUSE PARTY OF MANY GUESTS=\n\nPerhaps there are ten or perhaps there are forty guests, but if there were\nonly two or three, and the house a little instead of a big one, the\ndetails would be precisely the same.\n\nA week-end means from Friday afternoon or from Saturday lunch to Monday\nmorning. The usual time chosen for a house party is over a holiday,\nparticularly where the holiday falls on a Friday or Monday, so that the\nmen can take a Saturday off, and stay from Friday to Tuesday, or Thursday\nto Monday.\n\nOn whichever day the party begins, everyone arrives in the neighborhood of\nfive o'clock, or a day later at lunch time. Many come in their own cars,\nthe others are met at the station--sometimes by the host or a son, or, if\nit is to be a young party, by a daughter. The hostess herself rarely, if\never, goes to the station, not because of indifference or discourtesy but\nbecause other guests coming by motor might find the house empty.\n\nIt is very rude for a hostess to be out when her guests arrive. Even some\none who comes so often as to be entirely at home, is apt to feel\ndispirited upon being shown into an empty house. Sometimes a guest's\narrival unwelcomed can not be avoided; if, for instance, a man invited for\ntennis week or a football or baseball game, arrives before the game is\nover but too late to join the others at the sport.\n\nWhen younger people come to visit the daughters, it is not necessary that\ntheir mother stay at home, since the daughters take their mother's place.\nNor is it necessary that she receive the men friends of her son, unless\nthe latter for some unavoidable reason, is absent.\n\nNo hostess must ever fail to send a car to the station or boat landing for\nevery one who is expected. If she has not conveyances enough of her own,\nshe must order public ones and have the fares charged to herself.\n\n\n=GREETING OF THE HOST=\n\nThe host always goes out into the front hall and shakes hands with every\none who arrives. He asks the guests if they want to be shown to their\nrooms, and, if not, sees that the gentlemen who come without valets give\ntheir keys to the butler or footman, and that the ladies without maids of\ntheir own give theirs to the maid who is on duty for the purpose.\n\nShould any of them feel dusty or otherwise \"untidy\" they naturally ask if\nthey may be shown to their rooms so that they can make themselves\npresentable. They should not, however, linger longer than necessary, as\ntheir hostess may become uneasy at their delay. Ladies do not--in\nfashionable houses--make their first appearance without a hat. Gentlemen,\nneedless to say, leave theirs in the hall when they come in.\n\nTravel in the present day, however, whether in parlor car or closed\nlimousines, or even in open cars on macadam roads, obviates the necessity\nfor an immediate removing of \"travel stains,\" so that instead of seeking\ntheir rooms, the newcomers usually go directly into the library or out on\nthe veranda or wherever the hostess is to be found behind the inevitable\ntea tray.\n\n\n=GREETING OF THE HOSTESS=\n\nAs soon as her guests appear in the doorway, the hostess at once rises,\ngoes forward smiling, shakes hands and tells them how glad she is that\nthey have safely come, or how glad she is to see them, and leads the way\nto the tea-table. This is one of the occasions when everyone is always\nintroduced. Good manners also demand that the places nearest the hostess\nbe vacated by those occupying them, and that the newly arrived receive\nattention from the hostess, who sees that they are supplied with tea,\nsandwiches, cakes and whatever the tea-table affords.\n\nAfter tea, people either sit around and talk, or, more likely nowadays,\nthey play bridge. About an hour before dinner the hostess asks how long\nevery one needs to dress, and tells them the time. If any need a shorter\ntime than she must allow for herself, she makes sure that they know the\nlocation of their rooms, and goes to dress.\n\n\n=A ROOM FOR EVERY GUEST=\n\nIt is almost unnecessary to say that in no well-appointed house is a\nguest, except under three circumstances, put in a room with any one else.\nThe three exceptions are:\n\n    1. A man and wife, if the hostess is sure beyond a doubt that\n    they occupy similar quarters when at home.\n\n    2. Two young girls who are friends and have volunteered, because\n    the house is crowded, to room together in a room with two beds.\n\n    3. On an occasion such as a wedding, a ball, or an\n    intercollegiate athletic event, young people don't mind for one\n    night (that is spent for the greater part \"up\") how many are\n    doubled; and house room is limited merely to cot space, sofas,\n    and even the billiard table.\n\nBut she would be a very clumsy hostess, who, for a week-end, filled her\nhouse like a sardine box to the discomfort and resentment of every one.\n\nIn the well-appointed house, every guest room has a bath adjoining for\nitself alone, or shared with a connecting room and used only by a man and\nwife, two women or two men. A bathroom should never (if avoidable) be\nshared by a woman and a man. A suitable accommodation for a man and wife\nis a double room with bath and a single room next.\n\n\n=THE GUEST ROOM=\n\nThe perfect guest room is not necessarily a vast chamber decorated in an\nhistorically correct period. Its perfection is the result of nothing more\ndifficult to attain than painstaking attention to detail, and its\npossession is within the reach of every woman who has the means to invite\npeople to her house in the first place. The ideal guest room is never\nfound except in the house of the ideal hostess, and it is by no means\n\"idle talk\" to suggest that every hostess be obliged to spend twenty-four\nhours every now and then in each room that is set apart for visitors. If\nshe does not do this actually, she should do so in imagination. She should\noccasionally go into the guest bathroom and draw the water in every\nfixture, to see there is no stoppage and that the hot water faucets are\nnot seemingly jokes of the plumber. If a man is to occupy the bathroom,\nshe must see that the hook for a razor strop is not missing, and that\nthere is a mirror by which he can see to shave both at night and by\ndaylight. Even though she can see to powder her nose, it would be safer to\nmake her husband bathe and shave both a morning and an evening in each\nbathroom and then listen carefully to what he says about it!\n\nEven though she has a perfect housemaid, it is not unwise occasionally to\nmake sure herself that every detail has been attended to; that in every\nbathroom there are plenty of bath towels, face towels, a freshly laundered\nwash rag, bath mat, a new cake of unscented bath soap in the bathtub soap\nrack, and a new cake of scented soap on the washstand.\n\nIt is not expected, but it is often very nice to find violet water, bath\nsalts, listerine, talcum powder, almond or other hand or sunburn lotion,\nin decorated bottles on the washstand shelf; but to cover the\ndressing-table in the bedroom with brushes and an array of toilet articles\nis more of a nuisance than a comfort. A good clothes brush and whiskbroom\nare usually very acceptable, as strangely enough, guests almost invariably\nforget them.\n\nA comforting adjunct to a bathroom that is given to a woman is a hot water\nbottle with a woolen cover, hanging on the back of the door. Even if\nthe water does not run sufficiently hot, a guest seldom hesitates to ring\nfor that, whereas no one ever likes to ask for a hot water bag--no matter\nhow much she might long for it. A small bottle of Pyro is also convenient\nfor one who brings a curling lamp.\n\n[Illustration: \"THE IDEAL GUEST ROOM IS NEVER FOUND EXCEPT IN THE HOUSE OF\nTHE IDEAL HOSTESS; AND IT IS BY NO MEANS IDLE TALK TO SUGGEST THAT EVERY\nHOSTESS BE OBLIGED TO SPEND TWENTY-FOUR HOURS EVERY NOW AND THEN IN EACH\nROOM SET APART FOR VISITORS.\" [Page 414.]]\n\nIn the bedroom the hostess should make sure (by sleeping in it at least\nonce) that the bed is comfortable, that the sheets are long enough to tuck\nin, that there are enough pillows for one who sleeps with head high. There\nmust also be plenty of covers. Besides the blankets there should be a\nwool-filled or an eiderdown quilt, in coloring to go with the room.\n\nThere should be a night light at the head of the bed. Not just a\ndecorative glow-worm effect, but a light that is really good to lie in bed\nand read by. And always there should be books; chosen more to divert than\nto engross. The sort of selection appropriate for a guest room might best\ncomprise two or three books of the moment, a light novel, a book of\nessays, another of short stories, and a few of the latest magazines.\nSpare-room books ought to be especially chosen for the expected guest.\nEven though one can not choose accurately for the taste of another, one\ncan at least guess whether the visitor is likely to prefer transcendental\nphilosophy or detective stories, and supply either accordingly.\n\nThere should be a candle and a box of matches--even though there is\nelectric light it has been known to go out! And some people like to burn a\ncandle all night. There must also be matches and ash receivers on the desk\nand a scrap-basket beside it.\n\nIn hot weather, every guest should have a palm leaf fan, and in August,\neven though there are screens, a fly killer.\n\nIn big houses with a swimming pool, bath-robes are supplied and often\nbathing suits. Otherwise dressing-gowns are not part of any guest room\nequipment.\n\nA comfortable sofa is very important (if the room is big enough) with a\nsofa pillow or two, and with a lightweight quilt or afghan across the end\nof it.\n\nThe hostess should do her own hair in each room to see if the\ndressing-table is placed where there is a good light over it, both by\nelectric and by daylight. A very simple expedient in a room where massive\nfurniture and low windows make the daylight dressing-table difficult, is\nthe European custom of putting an ordinary small table directly in the\nwindow and standing a good sized mirror on it. Nothing makes a more\nperfect arrangement for a woman.\n\nAnd the pincushion! It is more than necessary to see that the pins are\nusable and not rust to the head. There should be black ones and white\nones, long and short; also safety pins in several sizes. Three or four\nthreaded needles of white thread, black, gray and tan silk are an addition\nthat has proved many times welcome. She must also examine the writing desk\nto be sure that the ink is not a cracked patch of black dust at the bottom\nof the well, and the pens solid rust and the writing paper textures and\nsizes at odds with the envelopes. There should be a fresh blotter and a\nfew stamps. Also thoughtful hostesses put a card in some convenient place,\ngiving the post office schedule and saying where the mail bag can be\nfound. And a calendar, and a clock that _goes_! is there anything more\ntypical of the average spare room than the clock that is at a standstill?\n\nThere must be plenty of clothes hangers in the closets. For women a few\nhat stands, and for men trouser hangers and the coat hangers that have a\nbar across the shoulder piece.\n\nIt is unnecessary to add that every bureau drawer should be looked into to\nsee that nothing belonging to the family is filling the space which should\nbelong to the guest, and that the white paper lining the bottom is new.\nCurtains and sofa pillows must, of course, be freshly laundered; the\nfurniture, floor, walls and ceiling unmarred and in perfect order.\n\nWhen bells are being installed in new houses they should be on cords and\nhung at the side of the bed. Light switches should be placed at the side\nof the door going into the room and bathroom. It is scarcely practical to\nchange the wiring in old houses; but it can at least be seen that the\nbells work.\n\nPeople who like strong perfumes often mistakenly think they are giving\npleasure in filling all the bedroom drawers with pads heavily scented.\nInstead of feeling pleasure, some people are made almost sick! But all\npeople (hay-fever patients excepted) love flowers, and vases of them\nbeautify rooms as nothing else can. Even a shabby little room, if\ndustlessly clean and filled with flowers, loses all effect of shabbiness\nand is \"inviting\" instead.\n\nIn a hunting country, there should be a bootjack and boothooks in the\ncloset.\n\nGuest rooms should have shutters and dark shades for those who like to\nkeep the morning sun out. The rooms should also, if possible, be away from\nthe kitchen end of the house and the nursery.\n\nA shortcoming in many houses is the lack of a newspaper, and the\nthoughtful hostess who has the morning paper sent up with each breakfast\ntray, or has one put at each place on the breakfast table, deserves a\nhalo.\n\nAt night a glass and a thermos pitcher of water should be placed by the\nbed. In a few very specially appointed houses, a small glass-covered tray\nof food is also put on the bed table, fruit or milk and sandwiches, or\nwhatever is marked on the guest card.\n\n\n=THE GUEST CARD=\n\nA clever device was invented by Mrs. Gilding whose palatially appointed\nhouse is run with the most painstaking attention to every one's comfort.\nOn the dressing-table in each spare room at Golden Hall is a card pad with\na pencil attached to it. But if the guest card is used, a specimen is\ngiven below.\n\nNeedless to say the cards are used only in huge houses that, because of\ntheir size, are necessarily run more like a clubhouse than as a \"home.\"\n\nIn every house, the questions below are asked by the hostess, though the\nguests may not readily perceive the fact. At bedtime she always asks:\n\"Would you like to come down to breakfast, or will you have it in your\nroom?\" If the guest says, in her room, she is then asked what she would\nlike to eat. She is also asked whether she cares for milk or fruit or\nother light refreshment at bedtime, and if there is a special book she\nwould like to take up to her room.\n\nThe guest card mentioned above is as follows:\n\n=PLEASE FILL THIS OUT BEFORE GOING DOWN TO DINNER:=\n\n_What time do you want to be awakened? .......................\nOr, will you ring? ..........................................\nWill you breakfast up-stairs? ................................\nOr down? ...................................................._\n\n\n=UNDERSCORE YOUR ORDER:=\n\n_Coffee, tea, chocolate, milk,\nOatmeal, hominy, shredded wheat,\nEggs, how cooked?\nRolls, muffins, toast,\nOrange, pear, grapes, melon._\n\n\n=AT BEDTIME WILL YOU TAKE=\n\n_Hot or cold milk, cocoa, orangeade,\nSandwiches, meat, lettuce, jam,\nCake, crackers,\nOranges, apples, pears, grapes._\n\nBesides this list, there is a catalogue of the library with a card,\nclipped to the cover, saying:\n\n\"Following books for room No. X.\" Then four or six blank lines and a place\nfor the guest's signature.\n\n\n=AT THE DINNER HOUR=\n\nEvery one goes down to dinner as promptly as possible and the procedure is\nexactly that of all dinners. If it is a big party, the gentlemen offer\ntheir arms to the ladies the host or hostess has designated. At the end of\nthe evening, it is the custom that the hostess suggest going up-stairs,\nrather than the guests who ordinarily depart after dinner. But etiquette\nis not very strictly followed in this, and a reasonable time after dinner,\nif any one is especially tired he or she quite frankly says: \"I wonder if\nyou would mind very much if I went to bed?\" The hostess always answers:\n\"Why, no, certainly not! I hope you will find everything in your room! If\nnot, will you ring?\"\n\nIt is not customary for the hostess to go up-stairs with a guest, so long\nas others remain in her drawing-room. If there is only one lady, or a\nyoung girl, the hostess accompanies her to her room, and asks if\neverything has been thought of for her comfort.\n\n\n=HOW GUESTS ARE ASKED AND RECEIVED=\n\nMany older ladies adhere to former practise and always write personal\nnotes of invitation. All others write or telegraph to people at a\ndistance, and send telephone messages to those nearby.\n\nWhen a house is to be filled with friends of daughters or sons of the\nhouse, the young people in the habit of coming to the house, or young men,\nwhether making a first visit or not, do not need any invitation further\nthan one given them verbally by a daughter, or even a son. But a married\ncouple, or a young girl invited for the first time, should have the verbal\ninvitation of daughter or son seconded by a note or at least a telephone\nmessage sent by the mother herself.\n\nEvery one is always asked for a specified time. Even a near relative comes\ndefinitely for a week, or a month, or whatever period is selected. This is\nbecause other plans have to be made by the owners of the house, such as\ninviting another group of guests, or preparing to go away themselves.\n\n\n=WHO ARE ASKED ON HOUSE PARTIES=\n\nExcepting when strangers bring influential letters of introduction, or\nwhen a relative or very intimate friend recently married is invited with\nher new husband or his bride, only very large and general house parties\ninclude any one who is not an intimate friend.\n\nAt least seventy per cent of American house parties are young people,\neither single or not long married, and, in any event, all those asked to\nany one party--unless the hostess is a failure (or a genius)--belong to\nthe same social group. Perhaps a more broad-minded attitude prevails\namong young people in other parts of the country, but wilfully\nnarrow-minded Miss Young New York is very chary of accepting an invitation\nuntil she finds out who among her particular friends are also invited. If\nMrs. Stranger asks her for a week-end, no matter how much she may like\nMrs. Stranger personally, she at once telephones two or three of her own\ngroup. If some of them are going, she \"accepts with pleasure,\" but if not,\nthe chances are she \"regrets.\" If, on the other hand, she is asked by the\nGildings, she accepts at once. Not merely because Golden Hall is the\nultimate in luxury, but because Mrs. Gilding has a gift for entertaining,\nincluding her selection of people, amounting to genius. On the other hand,\nMiss Young New York would accept with equal alacrity the invitation of the\nJack Littlehouses, where there is no luxury at all. Here in fact, a guest\nis quite as likely as not to be pressed into service as auxiliary nurse,\ngardener or chauffeur. But the personality of the host and hostess is such\nthat there is scarcely a day in the week when the motors of the most\npopular of the younger set are not parked at the Littlehouse door.\n\n\n=PEOPLE WE LOVE TO STAY WITH=\n\nWe enjoy staying with certain people usually for one of two reasons.\nFirst, because they have wonderful, luxurious houses, filled with amusing\npeople; and visiting them is a period crammed with continuous and\ndelightful experience, even though such a visit has little that suggests\nany personal intercourse or friendship with one's hostess. The other\nreason we love to visit a certain house is, on the contrary, entirely\npersonal to the host or hostess. We love the house because we love its\nowner. Nowhere do we feel so much at home, and though it may have none of\nthe imposing magnificence of the great house, it is often far more\ncharming.\n\nFive flunkeys can not do more towards a guest's comfort than to take his\nhat and stick and to show him the way to the drawing-room. A very smart\nyoung New Yorker who is also something of a wag, says that when going to\na very magnificent house, he always tries to wear sufficient articles so\nthat he shall have one to bestow upon each footman. Some one saw him, upon\nentering a palace that is a counterpart of the Worldlys,' quite solemnly\nhand his hat to the first footman, his stick to the second, his coat to\nthe third, his muffler to the fourth, his gloves to the fifth, and his\nname to the sixth, as he entered the drawing-room. Needless to say he did\nthis as a matter of pure amusement to himself. Of course six men servants,\nor more, do add to the impressiveness of a house that is a palace and are\na fitting part of the picture. And yet a neat maid servant at the door can\ndivest a guest of his hat and coat, and lead the way to the sitting-room,\nwith equal facility.\n\nHaving several times mentioned Golden Hall, the palatial country house of\nthe Gildings, suppose we join the guests and see what the last word in\nluxury and lavish hospitality is.\n\nGolden Hall is not an imaginary place, except in name. It exists within a\nhundred miles of New York. The house is a palace, the grounds are a park.\nThere is not only a long wing of magnificent guest rooms in the house,\noccupied by young girls or important older people, but there is also a\nguest annex, a separate building designed and run like the most luxurious\ncountry club. The second floor has nothing but bedrooms, with bath for\neach. The third floor has bachelor rooms, and rooms for visiting valets.\nVisiting maids are put in a separate third floor wing. On the ground floor\nthere is a small breakfast room; a large living-room filled with books,\nmagazines, a billiard and pool table; beyond the living-room is a fully\nequipped gymnasium; and beyond that a huge, white marble, glass-walled\nnatatorium. The swimming pool is fifty feet by one hundred; on three sides\nis just a narrow shelf-like walkway, but the fourth is wide and is\nfurnished as a room with lounging chairs upholstered in white oilcloth.\nOpening out of this are perfectly equipped Turkish and Russian baths in\ncharge of the best Swedish masseur and masseuse procurable.\n\nIn the same building are two squash courts, a racquet court, a court\ntennis court, and a bowling alley. But the feature of the guest building\nis a glass-roofed and enclosed riding ring--not big enough for games of\npolo, but big enough for practise in winter,--built along one entire side\nof it.\n\nThe stables are full of polo ponies and hunters, the garage full of cars,\nthe boathouse has every sort of boat--sailboats, naphtha launches, a motor\nboat and even a shell. Every amusement is open-heartedly offered, in fact,\nespecially devised for the guests.\n\nAt the main house there is a ballroom with a stage at one end. An\norchestra plays every night. New moving pictures are shown and vaudeville\ntalent is imported from New York. This is the extreme of luxury in\nentertaining. As Mrs. Toplofty said at the end of a bewilderingly lavish\nparty: \"How are any of us ever going to amuse any one after _this_? I feel\nlike doing my guest rooms up in moth balls.\"\n\nNo one, however, has discovered that invitations to Mrs. Toplofty's are\nany less welcome. Besides, excitement-loving youth and exercise-devotees\nwere never favored guests at the Hudson Manor anyway.\n\n\n=THE SMALL HOUSE OF PERFECTION=\n\nIt matters not in the slightest whether the guest room's carpet is\nAubusson or rag, whether the furniture is antique, or modern, so long as\nit is pleasing of its kind. On the other hand, because a house is little\nis no reason that it can not be as perfect in every detail--perhaps more\nso--as the palace of the multiest millionaire!\n\nThe attributes of the perfect house can not be better represented than by\nBrook Meadows Farm, the all-the-year home of the Oldnames. Nor can\nanything better illustrate its perfection than an incident that actually\ntook place there.\n\nA great friend of the Oldnames, but not a man who went at all into\nsociety, or considered whether people had position or not, was invited\nwith his new wife--a woman from another State and of much wealth and\ndiscernment--to stay over a week-end at Brook Meadows. Never having met\nthe Oldnames, she asked something about their house and life in order to\ndecide what type of clothes to pack.\n\n\"Oh, it's just a little farmhouse. Oldname wears a dinner coat, of course;\nhis wife wears--I don't know what--but I have never seen her dressed up a\nbit!\"\n\n\"Evidently plain people,\" thought his wife. And aloud: \"I wonder what\nevening dress I have that is high enough. I can put in the black lace day\ndress; perhaps I had better put in my cerise satin----\"\n\n\"The cerise?\" asked her husband, \"Is that the red you had on the other\nnight? It is much too handsome, much! I tell you, Mrs. Oldname never wears\na dress that you could notice. She always looks like a lady, but she isn't\na dressy sort of person at all.\"\n\nSo the bride packed her plainest (that is her cheapest) clothes, but at\nthe last, she put in the \"cerise.\"\n\nWhen she and her husband arrived at the railroad station, _that_ at least\nwas primitive enough, and Mr. Oldname in much worn tweeds might have come\nfrom a castle or a cabin; country clothes are no evidence. But her\npractised eye noticed the perfect cut of the chauffeur's coat and that the\ncar, though of an inexpensive make, was one of the prettiest on the\nmarket, and beautifully appointed.\n\n\"At least they have good taste in motors and accessories,\" thought she,\nand was glad she had brought her best evening dress.\n\nThey drove up to a low white shingled house, at the end of an\nold-fashioned brick walk bordered with flowers. The visitor noticed that\nthe flowers were all of one color, all in perfect bloom. She knew no\ninexperienced gardener produced that apparently simple approach to a door\nthat has been chosen as frontispiece in more than one book on Colonial\narchitecture. The door was opened by a maid in a silver gray taffeta\ndress, with organdie collar, cuffs and apron, white stockings and silver\nbuckles on black slippers, and the guest saw a quaint hall and vista of\nrooms that at first sight might easily be thought \"simple\" by an inexpert\nappraiser; but Mrs. Oldname, who came forward to greet her guests, was\nthe antithesis of everything the bride's husband had led her to believe.\n\nTo describe Mrs. Oldname as simple is about as apt as to call a pearl\n\"simple\" because it doesn't dazzle; nor was there an article in the\napparently simple living-room that would be refused were it offered to a\nmuseum.\n\nThe tea-table was Chinese Chippendale and set with old Spode on a\nlacquered tray over a mosaic-embroidered linen tea-cloth. The soda\nbiscuits and cakes were light as froth, the tea an especial blend imported\nby a prominent connoisseur and given every Christmas to his friends. There\nwere three other guests besides the bride and groom: a United States\nSenator, and a diplomat and his wife who were on their way from a post in\nEurope to one in South America. Instead of \"bridge\" there was conversation\non international topics until it was time to dress for dinner.\n\nWhen the bride went to her room (which adjoined that of her husband) she\nfound her bath drawn, her clothes laid out, and the dressing-table lights\nlighted.\n\nThat night the bride wore her cerise dress to one of the smartest dinners\nshe ever went down to, and when they went up-stairs and she at last saw\nher husband alone, she took him to task. \"Why in the name of goodness\ndidn't you tell me the truth about these people?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said he abashed, \"I told you it was a little house--it was you who\ninsisted on bringing that red dress. I told you it was too handsome!\"\n\n\"Handsome!\" she cried in tears, \"I don't own anything half good enough to\ncompare with the least article in this house. That 'simple' little woman\nas you call her would, I think, almost make a queen seem provincial! And\nas for her clothes, they are priceless--just as everything is in this\nlittle gem of a house. Why, the window curtains are as fine as the best\nclothes in my trousseau.\"\n\nThe two houses contrasted above are two extremes, but each a luxury. The\nOldnames' expenditure, though in no way comparable with the Worldlys' or\nthe Gildings,' is far beyond any purse that can be called moderate.\n\nThe really moderate purse inevitably precludes a woman from playing an\nimportant r\u00f4le as hostess, for not even the greatest magnetism and charm\ncan make up to spoiled guests for lack of essential comfort. The only\nexceptions are a bungalow at the seashore or a camp in the woods, where a\nconfirmed luxury-lover is desperately uncomfortable for the first\ntwenty-four hours, but invariably gets used to the lack of comfort almost\nas soon as he gets dependent upon it; and plunging into a lake for bath,\nor washing in a little tin basin, sleeping on pine boughs without any\nsheets at all, eating tinned foods and flapjacks on tin plates with tin\nutensils, he seems to lack nothing when the air is like champagne and the\ncompany first choice.\n\n\n=GUEST ROOM SERVICE=\n\nIf a visitor brings no maid of her own, the personal maid of the hostess\n(if she has one--otherwise the housemaid) always unpacks the bags or\ntrunks, lays toilet articles out on the dressing-table and in the\nbathroom, puts folded things in the drawers and hangs dresses on hangers\nin the closet. If when she unpacks she sees that something of importance\nhas been forgotten, she tells her mistress, or, in the case of a servant\nwho has been long employed, she knows what selection to make herself, and\nsupplies the guest without asking with such articles as comb and brush or\nclothes brush, or bathing suit and bath-robe.\n\nThe valet of the host performs the same service for men. In small\nestablishments where there is no lady's maid or valet, the housemaid is\nalways taught to unpack guests' belongings and to press and hook up\nladies' dresses, and gentlemen's clothes are sent to a tailor to be\npressed after each wearing.\n\nIn big houses, breakfast trays for women guests are usually carried to the\nbedroom floor by the butler (some butlers delegate this service to a\nfootman) and are handed to the lady's maid who takes the tray into the\nroom. In small houses they are carried up by the waitress.\n\nTrays for men visitors are rare, but when ordered are carried up and into\nthe room by the valet, or butler. If there are no men servants the\nwaitress has to carry up the tray.\n\nWhen a guest rings for breakfast, the housemaid or the valet goes into the\nroom, opens the blinds, and in cold weather lights the fire, if there is\nan open one in the room. Asking whether a hot, cool or cold bath is\npreferred, he goes into the bathroom, spreads a bath mat on the floor, a\nbig bath towel over a chair, with the help of a thermometer draws the\nbath, and sometimes lays out the visitor's clothes. As few people care for\nmore than one bath a day and many people prefer their bath before dinner\ninstead of before breakfast, this office is often performed at dinner\ndressing time instead of in the morning.\n\n\n=TIPS=\n\nThe \"tip-roll\" in a big house seems to us rather appalling, but compared\nwith the amounts given in a big English house, ours are mere pittances.\nPleasant to think that _something_ is less expensive in our country than\nin Europe!\n\nFortunately in this country, when you dine in a friend's house you do not\n\"tip\" the butler, nor do you tip a footman or parlor-maid who takes your\ncard to the mistress of the house, nor when you leave a country house do\nyou have to give more than five dollars to any one whatsoever. A lady for\na week-end stay gives two or three dollars to the lady's maid, if she went\nwithout her own, and one or two dollars to every one who waited on her.\nIntimate friends in a small house send tips to all the servants--perhaps\nonly a dollar apiece, but no one is forgotten. In a very big house this is\nnever done and only those are tipped who have served you. If you had your\nmaid with you, you always give her a tip (about two dollars) to give the\ncook (often the second one) who prepared her meals and one dollar for the\nkitchen maid who set her table.\n\nA gentleman scarcely ever \"remembers\" any of the women servants (to their\nchagrin) except a waitress, and tips only the butler and the valet, and\nsometimes the chauffeur. The least he can offer any of the men-servants is\ntwo dollars and the most ever is five. No woman gets as much as that,\nfor such short service.\n\nIn a few houses the tipping system is abolished, and in every guest room,\nin a conspicuous place on the dressing-table or over the bath tub where\nyou are sure to read it, is a sign, saying:\n\n\"Please do not offer tips to my servants. Their contract is with this\nspecial understanding, and proper arrangements have been made to meet it;\nyou will not only create 'a situation,' but cause the immediate dismissal\nof any one who may be persuaded by you to break this rule of the house.\"\n\nThe notice is signed by the host. The \"arrangement\" referred to is one\nwhereby every guest means a bonus added to their wages of so much per\nperson per day for all employees. This system is much preferred by\nservants for two reasons. First, self-respecting ones dislike the\ndemeaning effect of a tip (an occasional few won't take them). Secondly,\nthey can absolutely count that so many visitors will bring them precisely\nsuch an amount.\n\n[Illustration: \"IN SMALL HOUSES BREAKFAST TRAYS FOR WOMEN GUESTS ARE\nCARRIED UP BY THE WAITRESS.\" [Page 426]]\n\n\n=BREAKFAST DOWNSTAIRS OR UP=\n\nBreakfast customs are as varied in this country as the topography of the\nland! Communities of people who have lived or traveled much abroad, have\nnearly all adopted the Continental breakfast habit of a tray in their\nroom, especially on Sunday mornings. In other communities it is the custom\nto go down to the dining-room for a heavy American (or English) meal. In\ncommunities where the latter is the custom and where people are used to\nassembling at a set hour, it is simple enough to provide a breakfast\ntypical of the section of the country; corn bread and kidney stew and\nhominy in the South; doughnuts and codfish balls \"way down East\"; kippered\nherring, liver and bacon and griddle cakes elsewhere. But downstairs\nbreakfast as a continuous performance is, from a housekeeper's point of\nview, a trial to say the least.\n\nHowever, in big houses, where men refuse to eat in their rooms and equally\nrefuse to get up until they feel like it, a dining-room breakfast is\nmanaged as follows:\n\n\n=CONTINUOUS BREAKFAST DOWNSTAIRS=\n\nThe table is set with a place for all who said they were \"coming down.\" At\none end is a coffee urn kept hot over a spirit lamp, milk is kept hot\nunder a \"tea cosy\" or in a double pitcher, made like a double boiler. On\nthe sideboard or on the table are two or three \"hot water\" dishes (with or\nwithout spirit lamps underneath). In one is a cereal, in the other \"hash\"\nor \"creamed beef,\" sausage, or codfish cakes, or whatever the housekeeper\nthinks of, that can stand for hours and still be edible! Fruit is on the\ntable and bread and butter and marmalade, and the cook is supposed to make\nfresh tea and eggs and toast for each guest as he appears.\n\n\n=PREPARING BREAKFAST TRAY=\n\nThe advantage of having one's guests choose breakfast up-stairs, is that\nunless there is a separate breakfast room, a long delayed breakfast\nprevents the dining-room from being put in order or the lunch table set.\nTrays, on the other hand, stand \"all set\" in the pantry and interfere much\nless with the dining-room work. The trays are either of the plain white\npantry variety or regular breakfast ones with folding legs. On each is put\na tray cloth. It may be plain linen hemstitched or scalloped, or it may be\nmuch embroidered and have mosaic or filet lace.\n\nEvery bedroom has a set of breakfast china to match it. But it is far\nbetter to send a complete set of blue china to a rose-colored room than a\nrose set that has pieces missing. Nothing looks worse than odd crockery.\nIt is like unmatched paper and envelopes, or odd shoes, or a woman's skirt\nand waist that do not meet in the back.\n\nThere is nothing unusual in a tray set, every china and department store\ncarries them, but only in \"open\" stock patterns can one buy extra dishes\nor replace broken ones; a fact it is well to remember. There is a tall\ncoffee pot, hot milk pitcher, a cream pitcher and sugar bowl, a cup and\nsaucer, two plates, an egg cup and a covered dish. A cereal is usually\nput in the covered dish, toast in a napkin on a plate, or eggs and bacon\nin place of cereal. This with fruit is the most elaborate \"tray\" breakfast\never provided. Most people who breakfast \"in bed\" take only coffee or tea,\nan egg, toast and possibly fruit.\n\n\n=THE COURTEOUS HOST=\n\nOf those elaborate ceremonials between host and guest familiar to all\nreaders of the Bible and all travelers in the East, only a few faint\ntraces remain in our country and generation. It is still unforgivable to\neat a man's bread and remain his enemy. It is unforgivable to criticize\nyour host, or in his presence to criticize his friends. It is unforgivable\nto be rude to any one under your own roof or under the roof of a friend.\nIf you must quarrel with your enemy, seek public or neutral ground, since\nquarrels and hospitality must never be mingled.\n\nThe Spaniard says to his guest: \"All I have is yours.\" It is supposed to\nbe merely a pretty speech--but in a measure it is true of every host's\nattitude toward his house guest. If you take some one under your roof, he\nbecomes part of, and sharer in, your life and possessions. Your horse,\nyour fireside, your armchair, your servants, your time, your customs, all\nare his; your food is his food, your roof his shelter. You give him the\nbest \"spare\" room, you set before him the best refreshments you can offer,\nand your \"best\" china and glass. His bed is made up with your best\n\"company\" linen and blankets. You receive your guest with a smile, no\nmatter how inconvenient or troublesome or straining to your resources his\nvisit may be, and on no account do you let him suspect any of this.\n\n\n=KEEPING ONE'S GUESTS OCCUPIED=\n\nIn popular houses where visitors like to go again and again, there is\nalways a happy combination of some attention on the part of the host and\nhostess, and the perfect freedom of the guests to occupy their time as\nthey choose.\n\nThe host and the men staying in the house arrange among themselves to rest\nor play games or fish or ride or shoot clay pigeons or swim, etc. The\nhostess, unless at the seashore where people go bathing in the morning,\ngenerally leaves her guests to their own devices until lunch time, though\nthey are always offered whatever diversions the place or neighborhood\nafford. They are told there is bathing, fishing, golf; and if they want to\ndo any of these things, it is arranged for them. But unless something\nspecial, such as driving to a picnic or clambake, has been planned, or\nthere is a tennis tournament or golf match of importance, the hostess\nmakes her first appearance just before luncheon.\n\nThis is the same as any informal family meal. If there are thirty guests\nit makes no difference. Sometimes there are place cards--especially if\nother people have been invited in--sometimes people find places for\nthemselves.\n\nAfter luncheon something is usually arranged; perhaps those who play golf\ngo out for their game, and others who do not play go to the country club\nat the hour the players are supposed to be coming in, so that they can all\nhave tea together. Those who like motoring perhaps go for a drive, or to a\nneighbor's house for bridge, or neighbors come in for tea. There is always\nbridge, sometimes there is dancing. In very big houses musicians are often\nbrought in after dinner, and dancing and bridge alternate till bedtime.\n\nA houseful of young people very easily look after their own amusement. As\nsaid before, a big house is run very much like a country club, and guests\nare supposed to look after themselves.\n\nMaking an especial effort to entertain a guest who is to stay for a week\nor longer has gone out of custom in the fashionable world, except for an\nimportant personage. A visit from the President of the United States for\ninstance, would necessitate the most punctiliously formal etiquette, no\nmatter how close a friend of the family he may always have been. For such\na visitor a hostess would either arrange a series of entertainments or\nnone, according to her visitor's inclination.\n\n\n=A GUEST CAN LOOK AFTER HIS OWN COMFORT=\n\nThe most trying thing to people of very set habits is an unusual breakfast\nhour. When you have the unfortunate habit of waking with the dawn, and the\nhousehold you are visiting has the custom of sleeping on Sunday morning,\nthe long wait for your coffee can quite actually upset your whole day. On\nthe other hand, to be aroused at seven on the only day when you do not\nhave to hurry to business, in order to yawn through an early breakfast,\nand then sit around and kill time, is quite as trying. The guest with the\n\"early\" habit can in a measure prevent discomfort. He can carry in a small\ncase (locked if necessary) a very small solidified alcohol outfit and\neither a small package of tea or powdered coffee, sugar, powdered milk,\nand a few crackers. He can then start his day all by himself in the\nbarnyard hours without disturbing any one, and in comfort to himself. Few\npeople care enough to \"fuss,\" but if they do, this equipment of an\nhabitual visitor with incurably early waking hours is given as a\nsuggestion.\n\nOr perhaps the entire guest situation may be put in one sentence. If you\nare an inflexible person, very set in your ways, don't visit! At least\ndon't visit without carefully looking the situation over from every angle\nto be sure that the habits of the house you are going to are in accord\nwith your own.\n\nA solitary guest is naturally much more dependent on his host (or her\nhostess), but on the other hand, he or she is practically always a very\nintimate friend who merely adapts himself or herself like a chameleon to\nthe customs and hours and diversions of the household.\n\n\n=DONT'S FOR HOSTESS=\n\nWhen a guest asks to be called half an hour before breakfast, don't have\nhim called an hour and a half before because it takes you that long to\ndress, nor allow him a scant ten minutes because the shorter time is\nseemingly sufficient. Too often the summons on the door wakes him out of\nsound sleep; he tumbles exhausted out of bed, into clothes, and down\nstairs, to wait perhaps an hour for breakfast.\n\nIf a guest prefers to sit on the veranda and read, don't interrupt him\nevery half page to ask if he really does not want to do something else.\nIf, on the other hand, a guest wants to exercise, don't do everything in\nyour power to obstruct his starting off by saying that it will surely\nrain, or that it is too hot, or that you think it is senseless to spend\ndays that should be a rest to him in utterly exhausting himself.\n\nDon't, when you know that a young man cares little for feminine society,\nfine-tooth-comb the neighborhood for the dullest or silliest young woman\nto be found.\n\nDon't, on the other hand, when you have an especially attractive young\nwoman staying with you, ask a stolid middle-aged couple and an\noctogenarian professor for dinner, because the charm and beauty of the\nformer is sure to appeal to the latter.\n\nDon't, because you personally happen to like a certain young girl who is\nutterly old-fashioned in outlook and type from ultra modern others who are\nstaying with you, try to \"bring them together.\" Never try to make any two\npeople like each other. If they do, they do; if they don't, they don't,\nand that is all there is to it; but it is of vital importance to your own\nsuccess as hostess to find out which is the case and collect or separate\nthem accordingly.\n\n\n=THE CASUAL HOSTESS=\n\nThe most casual hostess in the world is the fashionable leader in Newport,\nshe who should by the rules of good society be the most punctilious, since\nno place in America, or Europe, is more conspicuously representative of\nluxury and fashion. Nowhere are there more \"guests\" or half so many\nhostesses, and yet hospitality as it is understood everywhere else, is\npractically unknown. No one ever goes to stay in a Newport house excepting\n\"on his own\" as it were. It is not an exaggerated story, but quite true,\nthat in many houses of ultra fashion a guest on arriving is told at which\nmeals he is expected to appear, that is at dinners or luncheons given by\nhis hostess. At all others he is free to go out or stay in by himself. No\neffort is assumed for his amusement, or responsibility for his\nwell-being. It is small wonder that only those who have plenty of friends\ncare to go there--or in fact, are ever invited! Those who like to go to\nvisit the most perfectly appointed, but utterly impersonal house, find no\nother visiting to compare with its unhampering delightfulness. The hostess\nsimply says on his (or her) arrival:\n\n\"Oh, howdo Freddie (or Constance)! They've put you in the Chinese room, I\nthink. Ring for tea when you want it. Struthers telephoned he'd be over\naround five. Mrs. Toplofty asked you to dinner to-night and I accepted for\nyou--hope that was all right. If not, you'll have to telephone and get out\nof it yourself. I want you to dinner to-morrow night and for lunch on\nSunday. Sorry to leave you, but I'm late for bridge now. Good-by.\" And she\nis off.\n\nThe Newport hostess is, of course, an extreme type that is seldom met away\nfrom that one small watering place in Rhode Island.\n\n\n=THE ENERGETIC HOSTESS=\n\nThe energetic hostess is the antithesis of the one above, and far more\nuniversally known. She is one who fusses and plans continually, who thinks\nher guests are not having a good time unless she rushes them, Cook's\ntourist fashion, from this engagement to that, and crowds with activity\nand diversion--never mind _what_ so long as it is something to see or\ndo--every moment of their stay.\n\nShe walks them through the garden to show them all the nooks and vistas.\nShe dilates upon the flowers that bloomed here last month and are going to\nbloom next. She insists upon their climbing over rocks to a summerhouse to\nsee the view; she insists on taking them in another direction to see an\nold mill; and, again, every one is trouped to the cupola of the house to\nsee another view. She insists on every one's playing croquet before lunch,\nto which she gathers in a curiously mixed collection of neighbors.\nImmediately after lunch every one is driven to a country club to see some\nduffer golf--for some reason there is never \"time\" in all the prepared\npleasures for any of her guests to play golf themselves. After twenty\nminutes at the golf club, they are all taken to a church fair. The guests\nare all introduced to the ladies at the booth and those who were foolish\nenough to bring their purses with them from now on carry around an odd\nassortment of fancy work. There is another entertainment that her guests\nmust not miss! A flower pageant of the darlingest children fourteen miles\naway! Everyone is dashed to that. On some one's front lawn, daisies and\nlilies and roses trip and skip--it is all sweetly pretty but the sun is\nhot and the guests have been on the go for a great many hours. Soon,\nhowever, their hostess leaves. \"Home at last!\" think they. Not at all.\nThey are going somewhere for tea and French recitations. But why go on?\nThe portrait is fairly complete, though this account covers only a few\nhours and there is still all the evening and to-morrow to be filled in\njust as liberally.\n\n\n=THE ANXIOUS HOSTESS=\n\nThe anxious hostess does not insist on your ceaseless activity, but she is\nno less persistent in filling your time. She is always asking you what you\nwould like to do next. If you say you are quite content as you are, she\nnevertheless continues to shower suggestions. Shall she play the\nphonograph to you? Would you like her to telephone to a friend who sings\ntoo wonderfully? Would you like to look at a portfolio of pictures? If you\nare a moment silent, she is sure you are bored, and wonders what she can\ndo to divert you!\n\n\n=THE PERFECT HOSTESS=\n\nThe ideal hostess must have so many perfections of sense and character\nthat were she described in full, no one seemingly but a combination of\nseer and angel could ever hope to qualify.\n\nShe must first of all consider the inclinations of her guests, she must\nnot only make them as comfortable as the arrangements and limits of her\nestablishment permit, but she must subordinate her own inclinations\nutterly. At the same time, she must not fuss and flutter and get agitated\nand seemingly make efforts in their behalf. Nothing makes a guest more\nuncomfortable than to feel his host or hostess is being put to a great\ndeal of bother or effort on his account.\n\nA perfect hostess like a perfect housekeeper has seemingly nothing\nwhatever to do with household arrangements which apparently run in oiled\ngrooves and of their own accord.\n\nCertain rules are easy to observe once they are brought to attention. A\nhostess should never speak of annoyances of any kind--no matter what\nhappens! Unless she is actually unable to stand up, she should not mention\nphysical ills any more than mental ones. She has invited people to her\nhouse, and as long as they are under her roof, hospitality demands that\ntheir sojourn shall be made as pleasant as lies in her power.\n\nIf the cook leaves, then a picnic must be made of the situation as though\na picnic were the most delightful thing that could happen. Should a guest\nbe taken ill, she must assure him that he is not giving the slightest\ntrouble; at the same time nothing that can be done for his comfort must be\noverlooked. Should she herself or some one in her family become suddenly\nill, she should make as light of it as possible to her guests, even though\nshe withdraw from them. In that event she must ask a relative or intimate\nfriend to come in and take her place. Nor should the deputy hostess dwell\nto the guests on the illness, or whatever it is that has deprived them of\ntheir hostess.\n\n\n=THE GUEST NO ONE INVITES AGAIN=\n\nThe guest no one invites a second time is the one who runs a car to its\ndetriment, and a horse to a lather; who leaves a borrowed tennis racquet\nout in the rain; who \"dog ears\" the books, leaves a cigarette on the edge\nof a table and burns a trench in its edge, who uses towels for boot rags,\nwho stands a wet glass on polished wood, who tracks muddy shoes into the\nhouse, and leaves his room looking as though it had been through a\ncyclone. Nor are men the only offenders. Young women have been known to\ncommit every one of these offenses and the additional one of bringing a\npet dog that was not house trained.\n\nBesides these actually destructive shortcomings, there are evidences of\nbad upbringing in many modern youths whose lack of consideration is\nscarcely less annoying. Those who are late for every meal; cheeky others\nwho invite friends of their own to meals without the manners or the\ndecency to ask their hostess' permission; who help themselves to a car and\ngo off and don't come back for meals at all; and who write no letters\nafterwards, nor even take the trouble to go up and \"speak\" to a former\nhostess when they see her again.\n\nOn the other hand, a young person who is considerate is a delight\nimmeasurable--such a delight as only a hostess of much experience can\nperhaps appreciate. A young girl who tells where she is going, first\nasking if it is all right, and who finds her hostess as soon as she is in\nthe house at night to report that she is back, is one who very surely will\nbe asked again and often.\n\nA young man is, of course, much freer, but a similar deference to the\nplans of his hostess, and to the hours and customs of the house, will\nresult in repeated invitations for him also.\n\nThe lack of these things is not only bad form but want of common civility\nand decency, and reflects not only on the girls and boys themselves but on\ntheir parents who failed to bring them up properly.\n\n\n=THE CONSIDERATE GUEST=\n\nCourtesy demands that you, when you are a guest, shall show neither\nannoyance nor disappointment--no matter what happens. Before you can hope\nto become even a passable guest, let alone a perfect one, you must learn\nas it were not to notice if hot soup is poured down your back. If you\nneither understand nor care for dogs or children, and both insist on\nclimbing all over you, you must seemingly like it; just as you must be\namiable and polite to your fellow guests, even though they be of all the\npeople on earth the most detestable to you. You must with the very best\ndissimulation at your command, appear to find the food delicious though\nthey offer you all of the viands that are especially distasteful to your\npalate, or antagonistic to your digestion. You must disguise your hatred\nof red ants and scrambled food, if everyone else is bent on a picnic. You\nmust pretend that six is a perfect dinner hour though you never dine\nbefore eight, or, on the contrary, you must wait until eight-thirty or\nnine with stoical fortitude, though your dinner hour is six and by seven\nyour chest seems securely pinned to your spine.\n\nIf you go for a drive, and it pours, and there is no top to the carriage\nor car, and you are soaked to the skin and chilled to the marrow so that\nyour teeth chatter, your lips must smile and you must appear to enjoy the\nrefreshing coolness.\n\nIf you go to stay in a small house in the country, and they give you a bed\nfull of lumps, in a room of mosquitoes and flies, in a chamber over that\nof a crying baby, under the eaves with a temperature of over a hundred,\nyou _can_ the next morning walk to the village, and send yourself a\ntelegram and leave! But though you feel starved, exhausted, wilted, and\nare mosquito bitten until you resemble a well-developed case of chickenpox\nor measles, by not so much as a facial muscle must you let the family know\nthat your comfort lacked anything that your happiest imagination could\npicture--nor must you confide in any one afterwards (having broken bread\nin the house) how desperately wretched you were.\n\nIf you know anyone who is always in demand, not only for dinners, but for\ntrips on private cars and yachts, and long visits in country houses, you\nmay be very sure of one thing: the popular person is first of all\nunselfish or else extremely gifted; very often both.\n\nThe perfect guest not only tries to wear becoming clothes but tries to put\non an equally becoming mental attitude. No one is ever asked out very much\nwho is in the habit of telling people all the misfortunes and ailments she\nhas experienced or witnessed, though the perfect guest listens with\napparent sympathy to every one else's. Another attribute of the perfect\nguest is never to keep people waiting. She is always ready for\nanything--or nothing. If a plan is made to picnic, she likes picnics above\neverything and proves her liking by enthusiastically making the sandwiches\nor the salad dressing or whatever she thinks she makes best. If, on the\nother hand, no one seems to want to do anything, the perfect guest has\nalways a book she is absorbed in, or a piece of sewing she is engrossed\nwith, or else beyond everything she would love to sit in an easy chair and\ndo nothing.\n\nShe never for one moment thinks of herself, but of the other people she is\nthrown with. She is a person of sympathy always, and instantaneous\ndiscernment. She is good tempered no matter what happens, and makes the\nmost of everything as it comes. At games she is a good loser, and a quiet\nwinner. She has a pleasant word, an amusing story, and agreeable comment\nfor most occasions, but she is neither gushing nor fulsome. She has merely\nacquired a habit, born of many years of arduous practise, of turning\neverything that looks like a dark cloud as quickly as possible for the\nglimmer of a silver lining.\n\nShe is as sympathetic to children as to older people; she cuts out\nwonderful paper dolls and soldier hats, always leisurely and easily as\nthough it cost neither time nor effort. She knows a hundred stories or\ngames, every baby and every dog goes to her on sight, not because she has\nany especial talent, except that one she has cultivated, the talent of\ninterest in everyone and everything except herself. Few people know that\nthere is such a talent or that it can be cultivated.\n\nShe has more than mere beauty; she has infinite charm, and she is so well\nborn that she is charming to everyone. Her manner to a duke who happens to\nbe staying in the house is not a bit more courteous than her manner to the\nkitchen-maid whom she chances to meet in the kitchen gardens whither she\nhas gone with the children to see the new kittens; as though new kittens\nwere the apex of all delectability!\n\nShe always calls the servants by name; always says \"How do you do\" when\nshe arrives, \"Good morning\" while there, and \"Good-by\" when she leaves.\nAnd do they presume because of her \"familiarity\" when she remembers to ask\nafter the parlor-maid's mother and the butler's baby? They wait on her as\nthey wait on no one else who comes to the house--neither the Senator nor\nthe Governor, nor his Grace of Overthere!\n\nThis ideal guest is an equally ideal hostess; the principle of both is the\nsame. A ready smile, a quick sympathy, a happy outlook, consideration for\nothers, tenderness toward everything that is young or helpless, and\nforgetfulness of self, which is not far from the ideal of womankind.\n\n\n=THE GUEST ON A PRIVATE CAR OR YACHT=\n\nThe sole difference between being a guest at a country house and a guest\non a private car or a yacht, is that you put to a very severe test tour\nadaptability as a traveler. You live in very close quarters with your host\nand hostess and fellow guests, and must therefore be particularly on your\nguard against being selfish or out of humor. If you are on shore and don't\nfeel well, you can stay home; but off on a cruise, if you are ill you have\nto make the best of it, and a sea-sick person's \"best\" is very bad indeed!\nTherefore let it be hoped you are a good sailor. If not, think very, very\ncarefully before you embark!\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVI\n\nTHE HOUSE PARTY IN CAMP\n\n\n\"Roughing it\" in the fashionable world (on the Atlantic coast) is rather\nsuggestive of the dairymaid playing of Marie Antoinette; the \"rough\" part\nbeing mostly \"picturesque effect\" with little taste of actual discomfort.\nOften, of course, the \"roughing it\" is real, especially west of the\nMississippi (and sometimes in the East too); so real that it has no place\nin a book of etiquette at all. In the following picture of a fashionable\n\"camping party\" it should perhaps be added, that not only the Worldlys but\nmost of the women really _think_ they are \"roughing it.\"\n\nAt the same time there is nothing that a genuine dependent upon luxury\nresents more than to be told he is dependent. It is he who has but newly\nlearned the comforts of living who protests his inability to endure\ndiscomfort.\n\nThe very same people therefore who went a short time before to Great\nEstates, women who arrived with their maids and luggage containing\npersonal equipment of amazing perfection and unlimited quantity (to say\nnothing of jewels worth a king's ransom), and men who usually travel with\ntheir own man-servants and every variety of raiment and paraphernalia, on\nbeing invited to \"rough it\" with the Kindharts at Mountain Summit Camp,\nare the very ones who most promptly and enthusiastically telegraph their\ndelighted acceptance. At a certain party a few years ago, the only person\nwho declined was a young woman of so little \"position\" that she was quite\noffended that Mrs. Kindhart should suppose her able to endure discomfort\nsuch as her invitation implied.\n\nThis year the Worldlys, the Normans, the Lovejoys, the \"Bobo\" Gildings,\nthe Littlehouses, Constance Style, Jim Smartlington and his bride, Clubwin\nDoe and young Struthers make up the party. No one declined, not even the\nWorldlys, though there is a fly in the amber of their perfect\nsatisfaction. Mrs. Kindhart wrote \"not to bring a maid.\" Mrs. Worldly is\nvery much disturbed, because she cannot do her hair herself. Mr. Worldly\nis even more perturbed at the thought of going without his valet. He has\nnever in the twenty years since he left college been twenty-four hours\naway from Ernest. He knows perfectly well that Ernest is not expected. But\nhe means to take him--he will say nothing about it; he can surely find a\nplace for Ernest to stay somewhere.\n\nThe other men all look upon a holiday away from formality (which includes\nvaleting) as a relief, like the opening of a window in a stuffy room, and\nnone of the women except Mrs. Worldly would take her maid if she could.\n\n\n=THE CLOTHES THEY TAKE=\n\nThe men all rummage in attics and trunk-rooms for those disreputable\nlooking articles of wearing apparel dear to all sportsmen; oil soaked\nboots, water soaked and sun bleached woolen, corduroy, leather or canvas\ngarments and hats, each looking too shabby from their wives' (or valet's)\npoint of view to be offered to a tramp.\n\nEvery evening is spent in cleaning guns, rummaging for unprepossessing\ntreasures of shooting and fishing equipment. The women also give thought\nto their wardrobes--consisting chiefly in a process of elimination.\nNothing perishable, nothing requiring a maid's help to get into, or to\ntake care of. Golf clothes are first choice, and any other old country\nclothes, skirts and sweaters, and lots of plain shirt waists to go under\nthe sweaters. An old polo coat and a mackintosh is chosen by each. And for\nevenings something \"comfortable\" and \"easy to put on\" in the way of a\nhouse gown or ordinary summer \"day dress.\" One or two decide to take tea\ngowns in dark color and plainest variety.\n\nAll the women who sew or knit take something to \"work on\" in unoccupied\nmoments, such as the hours of sitting silent in a canoe while husbands\nfish.\n\nFinally the day arrives. Every one meets at the railroad station.\nThey are all as smart looking as can be, there is no sign of \"rough\"\nclothes anywhere, though nothing in the least like a jewel case or parasol\nis to be seen. At the end of somewhere between eight and eighteen hours,\nthey arrive at a shed which sits at the edge of the single track and is\nlabelled Dustville Junction, and hurrying down the narrow platform is\ntheir host. Except that his face is clean shaven and his manners perfect,\nhe might be taken for a tramp. Three far from smart looking teams--two\nbuckboards and an express wagon--are standing near by. Kindhart welcomes\neveryone with enthusiasm--except the now emerging Ernest. For once\nKindhart is nonplussed and he says to Worldly: \"This isn't Newport, you\nknow--of course we can give him a bed somewhere, but this is really no\nplace for Ernest and there's nothing for him to do!\"\n\nWorldly, for the moment at a loss, explains lamely: \"I thought he might be\nuseful--if you could find some corner for him to-night, then we can\nsee--that's all right, isn't it?\"\n\nKindhart as host can't say anything further except to agree. Everyone is\nbundled into the buckboards (except Ernest who goes on top of the luggage\nin the express wagon), and a \"corduroy\" drive of six or eight miles\nbegins.\n\n\n=WHAT THE CAMP IS LIKE=\n\nSummit Camp is a collection of wooden shacks like a group of packing cases\ndumped in a clearing among the pine trees at the edge of a mountain lake.\nThose who have never been there before feel some misgivings, those who\nhave been there before remember with surprise that they _had_ liked the\nplace! The men alone are filled with enthusiasm. The only person who is\nthoroughly apprehensive of the immediate future is Ernest.\n\nIn front of the largest of the shacks, Mrs. Kindhart, surrounded by dogs\nand children, waves and hurries forward, beaming. Her enthusiasm is\ncontagious, the children look blooming. That the \"hardship\" is not\nhurting them, is evident! And when the guests have seen the inside of the\ncamps most of them are actually as pleased as they look. The biggest\n\"shack\" is a living-room, the one nearest is the dining camp, four or five\nsmaller ones are sleeping camps for guests and another is the Kindharts'\nown.\n\nThe \"living\" camp is nothing but a single room about thirty feet wide and\nforty feet long, with an open raftered roof for ceiling. It has windows on\nfour sides and a big porch built on the southeast corner. There is an\nenormous open fireplace, and a floor good enough to dance on. The woodwork\nis of rough lumber and has a single coat of leaf-green paint. The shelves\nbetween the uprights are filled with books. All the new novels and\nmagazines are spread out on a long table. The room is furnished with\nNavajo blankets, wicker furniture, steamer chairs, and hammocks are hung\nacross two of the corners. Two long divan sofas on either side of the\nfireplace are the only upholstered pieces of furniture in the whole camp,\nexcept the mattresses on the beds.\n\nThe guest camps are separate shacks, each one set back on a platform,\nleaving a porch in front. Inside they vary in size; most have two, some\nhave four rooms, but each is merely one pointed-roofed space. The front\npart has a fireplace and is furnished as a sitting-room, the rear half is\npartitioned into two or more cubicles, like box-stalls, with partitions\nabout eight feet high and having regular doors. In each of the single\nrooms, there is a bed, bureau, washstand, chair, and two shelves about six\nor seven feet high, with a calico curtain nailed to the top one and\nhanging to the floor, making a hat shelf and clothes closet. The few\n\"double\" rooms are twice the size and have all furniture in duplicate.\nThere is also a matting or a rag rug on the floor, and that is all!\n\nEach cottage has a bathroom but the hot water supply seems complicated. A\nsign says your guide will bring it to you when needed. Mrs. Worldly,\nfeeling vaguely uncomfortable and hungry, is firmly determined to go home\non the next morning train. Before she has had much time to reflect, Mrs.\nKindhart reports that lunch is nearly ready. Guides come with canisters of\nhot water, and everyone goes to dress. Town clothes disappear, and woods\nclothes emerge. This by no means makes a dowdy picture. Good sport clothes\nnever look so well or becoming as when long use has given them an\n\"accustomed set\" characteristic of their wearer. The men put on their\noldest country clothes too. Not their fishing \"treasures\" to sit at table\nwith ladies! The treasured articles go on in the early dawn, and the\nguides are the only humans (except themselves) supposed worthy to behold\nthem!\n\nPresently a gong is sounded. The Kindhart children run to the guest houses\nto call out that \"the gong means dinner is ready!\" And \"dinner\" means\nlunch.\n\n\n=DINING-ROOM DETAILS=\n\nIn a short while the very group of people who only ten days before were\nbeing shown to their places in the Worldlys' own tapestry-hung marble\ndining-room at Great Estates by a dozen footmen in satin knee breeches,\nfile into the \"dining camp\" and take their places at a long pine table,\npainted turkey red, on ordinary wooden kitchen chairs, also red! The\nfloral decoration is of laurel leaves in vases made of preserve jars\ncovered with birch bark. Glass and china is of the cheapest. But there are\na long centerpiece of hemstitched crash and crash doilies, and there are\n\"real\" napkins, and at each plate a birch bark napkin ring with a number\non it. Mrs. Worldly looks at her napkin ring as though it were an insect.\nOne or two of the others who have not been there before, look mildly\nsurprised.\n\nMrs. Kindhart smiles, \"I'm sorry, but I told you it was 'roughing it.' Any\none who prefers innumerable paper napkins to using a washed one twice, is\nwelcome. But one napkin a day apiece is camp rule!\" Mrs. Worldly tries to\nlook amiable, all the rest succeed.\n\nThe food is limited in variety but delicious. There are fresh trout from\nthe lake and venison steak; both well cooked in every way that can be\ndevised appear at every meal. All other supplies come in hampers from the\ncity. The head cook is the Kindharts' own, and so is the butler, with one\nof the chauffeurs (when home) to help him wait on table. They wear\n\"liveries,\" evolved by Mrs. Kindhart, of gray flannel trousers, green\nflannel blazers, very light gray flannel shirts, black ties, and\nmoccasins!\n\nThe table service, since there are only two to wait on twenty including\nthe children, is necessarily somewhat \"farmer style\"; ice, tea, rolls,\nbutter, marmalade, cake, fruit, are all on the table, so that people may\nhelp themselves.\n\n\n=THE AMUSEMENTS OFFERED=\n\nAfter luncheon Kindhart points out a dozen guides who are waiting at the\nboat-house to take anyone who wants to be paddled or to sail or to go out\ninto the woods. There is a small swimming pool which can be warmed\nartificially. Those who like it cold swim in the lake. All the men\ndisappear in groups or singly with a guide. The women go with their\nhusbands, or two together, with a guide. Should any not want to go out,\nshe can take to one of the hammocks, or a divan in the living-room, and a\nbook.\n\nAt first sight, this hospitality seems inadequate, but its discomfort is\none of outward appearance only. The food is abundant and delicious,\nwhether cooked in the house or by the guides in the woods. The beds are\ncomfortable; there are plenty of warm and good quality, though not white,\nblankets. Sheets are flannel or cotton as preferred. Pillow cases are\nlinen, towels of the \"bath\" variety because washing can be done by\n\"natives\" near by, but ironing is difficult. Let no one, however, think\nthat this is a \"simple\" (by that meaning either easy or inexpensive) form\nof entertainment! Imagine the budget! A dozen guides, teams and drivers,\nnatives to wash and clean and to help the cook; food for two or three\ndozen people sent hundreds of miles by express!\n\nIt is true that the buildings are of the most primitive, and the\nfurnishings, too. The bureau drawers do stick, and there is only\n\"curtained\" closet room, and mirrors are few and diminutive, and orders\nfor hot water have to be given ahead of time, but there is no discomfort,\nexcept bathing in the cold! The huge fire, lighted early every morning by\none of the guides in each guest house, keeps the main part fairly warm but\nthe temperature of one of the bathrooms on a cold morning is scarcely\nwelcoming.\n\n\n=CAMP MANNERS=\n\nPeople do not \"dress\" for dinner, that is, not in evening clothes. After\ncoming in from walking or shooting or fishing, if it is warm they swim in\nthe pool or have their guides bring them hot water for a bath. Women\nchange into house gowns of some sort. Men put on flannel trousers, soft\nshirts, and flannel or serge sack coats.\n\nIn the evening, if it is a beautiful night, every one sits on steamer\nchairs wrapt in rugs around the big fire built out doors in front of a\nsort of penthouse or windbreak. Or if it is stormy, they sit in front of a\nfire, almost as big, in the living-room. Sometimes younger ones pop corn\nor roast chestnuts, or perhaps make taffy. Perhaps some one tells a story,\nor some one plays and everyone sings. Perhaps one who has \"parlor tricks\"\namuses the others--but as a rule those who have been all day in the open\nare tired and drowsy and want nothing but to stretch out for a while in\nfront of the big fire and then turn in.\n\nThe etiquette of this sort of a party is so apparently lacking that its\ninclusion perhaps seems out of place. But it is meant merely as a\n\"picture\" of a phase of fashionable life that is not much exploited, and\nto show that well-bred people never deteriorate in manner. Their behavior\nis precisely the same whether at Great Estates or in camp. A gentleman may\nbe in his shirt sleeves actually, but he never gets into shirt sleeves\nmentally--he has no inclination to.\n\nTo be sure, on the particular party described above, Mrs. Worldly wore a\nsquirrel fur cap in the evening as well as the daytime; she said it was\nbecause it was so warm and comfortable. It was really because she could\nnot do her hair!\n\nPerhaps some one asks about Ernest? At the end of two days of aloof and\ndistasteful idleness, Ernest became quite a human being; invaluable as\nbaiter of worms for the children's fish-hooks, as extra butler, and did\nnot scorn even temporary experiments as kitchen-maid. In fact, he proved\nthe half-hearted recommendation that he \"might be useful\" so thoroughly\nthat the first person of all to be especially invited for next year and\nfuture years, was--exactly--Ernest.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVII\n\nNOTES AND SHORTER LETTERS\n\n\nIn writing notes or letters, as in all other forms of social observance,\nthe highest achievement is in giving the appearance of simplicity,\nnaturalness and force.\n\nThose who use long periods of flowered prolixity and pretentious\nphrases--who write in complicated form with meaningless flourishes, do not\nmake an impression of elegance and erudition upon their readers, but\nflaunt instead unmistakable evidence of vainglory and ignorance.\n\nThe letter you write, whether you realize it or not, is always a mirror\nwhich reflects your appearance, taste and character. A \"sloppy\" letter\nwith the writing all pouring into one corner of the page, badly worded,\nbadly spelled, and with unmatched paper and envelope--even possibly a\nblot--proclaims the sort of person who would have unkempt hair, unclean\nlinen and broken shoe laces; just as a neat, precise, evenly written note\nportrays a person of like characteristics. Therefore, while it can not be\nsaid with literal accuracy that one may read the future of a person by\nstudy of his handwriting, it is true that if a young man wishes to choose\na wife in whose daily life he is sure always to find the unfinished task,\nthe untidy mind and the syncopated housekeeping, he may do it quite simply\nby selecting her from her letters.\n\n\n=HOW TO IMPROVE A LETTER'S APPEARANCE=\n\nSome people are fortunate in being able easily to make graceful letters,\nto space their words evenly, and to put them on a page so that the picture\nis pleasing; others are discouraged at the outset because their fingers\nare clumsy, and their efforts crude; but no matter how badly formed each\nindividual letter may be, if the writing is consistent throughout, the\npage as a whole looks fairly well.\n\nYou can _make_ yourself write neatly and legibly. You can (with the help\nof a dictionary if necessary) spell correctly; you can be sure that you\nunderstand the meaning of every word you use. If it is hard for you to\nwrite in a straight line, use the lined guide that comes with nearly all\nstationery; if impossible to keep an even margin, draw a perpendicular\nline at the left of the guide so that you can start each new line of\nwriting on it. You can also make a guide to slip under the envelope. Far\nbetter to use a guide than to send envelopes and pages of writing that\nslide up hill and down, in uncontrolled disorder.\n\n[Illustration: FACSIMILES, REDUCED IN SIZE, OF LETTER AND ENVELOPE GUIDES]\n\n\n=CHOICE OF WRITING PAPER=\n\nSuitability should be considered in choosing note paper, as well as in\nchoosing a piece of furniture for a house. For a handwriting which is\nhabitually large, a larger sized paper should be chosen than for writing\nwhich is small. The shape of paper should also depend somewhat upon the\nspacing of the lines which is typical of the writer, and whether a wide or\nnarrow margin is used. Low, spread-out writing looks better on a square\nsheet of paper; tall, pointed writing looks better on paper that is high\nand narrow. Selection of paper whether rough or smooth is entirely a\nmatter of personal choice--so that the quality be good, and the shape and\ncolor conservative.\n\nPaper should never be ruled, or highly scented, or odd in shape, or have\nelaborate or striking ornamentation. Some people use smaller paper for\nnotes, or correspondence cards, cut to the size of the envelopes. Others\nuse the same size for all correspondence and leave a wider margin in\nwriting notes.\n\nThe flap of the envelope should be plain and the point not unduly long. If\nthe flap is square instead of being pointed, it may be allowed greater\nlength without being eccentric. Colored linings to envelopes are at\npresent in fashion. Thin white paper, with monogram or address stamped in\ngray to match gray tissue lining of the envelope is, for instance, in very\nbest taste. Young girls may be allowed quite gay envelope linings, but the\ndevice on the paper must be minute, in proportion to the gaiety of the\ncolor.\n\n[Illustrations: GOOD TASTE GOOD TASTE GOOD TASTE BAD TASTE BAD TASTE]\n\nWriting paper for a man should always be strictly conservative. Plain\nwhite or gray or granite paper, large in size and stamped in the simplest\nmanner. The size should be 5-3/4 x 7-1/2 or 6 x 8 or 5-1/8 x 8-1/8 or\nthereabouts.\n\nA paper suitable for the use of all the members of a family has the\naddress stamped in black or dark color, in plain letters at the top of the\nfirst page. More often than not the telephone number is put in very small\nletters under that of the address, a great convenience in the present day\nof telephoning. For example:\n\n       350 PARK AVENUE\n    TELEPHONE 7572 PLAZA\n\n\n=DEVICES FOR STAMPING=\n\nAs there is no such thing as heraldry in America, the use of a coat of\narms is as much a foreign custom as the speaking of a foreign tongue; but\nin certain communities where old families have used their crests\ncontinuously since the days when they brought their device--and their\nright to it--from Europe, the use of it is suitable and proper. The sight\nof this or that crest on a carriage or automobile in New York or Boston\nannounces to all those who have lived their lives in either city that the\nvehicle belongs to a member of this or that family. But for some one\nwithout an inherited right to select a lion _rampant_ or a stag _couchant_\nbecause he thinks it looks stylish, is as though, for the same reason, he\nchanged his name from Muggins to Marmaduke, and quite properly subjects\nhim to ridicule. (Strictly speaking, a woman has the right to use a\n\"lozenge\" only; since in heraldic days women did not bear arms, but no one\nin this country follows heraldic rule to this extent.)\n\n\n=THE PERSONAL DEVICE=\n\nIt is occasionally the fancy of artists or young girls to adopt some\nespecial symbol associated with themselves. The \"butterfly\" of Whistler\nfor instance is as well-known as his name. A painter of marines has the\nsmall outline of a ship stamped on his writing paper, and a New York\narchitect the capital of an Ionic column. A generation ago young women\nused to fancy such an intriguing symbol as a mask, a sphinx, a question\nmark, or their own names, if their names were such as could be pictured.\nThere can be no objection to one's appropriation of such an emblem if one\nfancies it. But Lilly, Belle, Dolly and Kitten are Lillian, Isabel,\nDorothy and Katherine in these days, and appropriate hall-marks are not\neasily found.\n\n\n=COUNTRY HOUSE STATIONERY: FOR A BIG HOUSE=\n\nIn selecting paper for a country house we go back to the subject of\nsuitability. A big house in important grounds should have very plain, very\ndignified letter paper. It may be white or tinted blue or gray. The name\nof the place should be engraved, in the center usually, at the top of the\nfirst page. It may be placed left, or right, as preferred. Slanting across\nthe upper corners or in a list at the upper left side, may be put as many\naddresses as necessary. Many persons use a whole row of small devices in\noutline, the engine of a train and beside it Ardmoor, meaning that Ardmoor\nis the railroad station. A telegraph pole, an envelope, a telephone\ninstrument--and beside each an address. These devices are suitable for all\nplaces, whether they are great or tiny, that have different addresses for\nrailroad, post-office, telephone telegraph.\n\n[Illustration: (train) Stirlington, New York]\n\n[Illustration: (telegraph pole and envelopes) Ringwood, New Jersey]\n\n[Illustration: (telephone) Sloatsburg, Seven-three-two]\n\n\n_For the Little House_\n\nOn the other hand, farmhouses and little places in the country may have\nvery bright-colored stamping, as well as gay-lined envelopes. Places with\neasily illustrated names quite often have them pictured; the \"Bird-cage,\"\nfor instance, may have a bright blue paper with a bird-cage in supposed\nred lacquer; the \"Bandbox,\" a fantastically decorated milliner's box on\noyster gray paper, the envelope lining of black and gray pin stripes, and\nthe \"Doll's House\" might use the outline of a doll's house in grass green\non green-bordered white paper, and white envelopes lined with grass green.\nEach of these devices must be as small as the outline of a cherry pit and\nthe paper of the smallest size that comes. (Envelopes 3-1/2 x 5 inches or\npaper 4 x 6 and envelopes the same size to hold paper without folding.)\n\n[Illustration: (three envelope corners with logos)]\n\nIt is foolish perhaps to give the description of such papers, for their\nfashion is but of the moment. A jeweler from Paris has been responsible\nfor their present vogue in New York, and his clientele is only among the\nyoung and smart. Older and more conservative women (and, of course, all\nmen) keep to the plain fashion of yesterday, which will just as surely be\nthe fashion of to-morrow.\n\n\n=MOURNING PAPER=\n\nPersons who are in mourning use black-edged visiting cards, letter paper\nand envelopes. The depth of black corresponds with the depth of mourning\nand the closeness of relation to the one who has gone, the width\ndecreasing as one's mourning lightens. The width of black to use is a\nmatter of personal taste and feeling. A very heavy border (from 3/8 to\n7/16 of an inch) announces the deepest retirement.\n\n\n=DATING A LETTER=\n\nUsually the date is put at the upper right hand of the first page of a\nletter, or at the end, and to the left of the signature, of a note. It is\nfar less confusing for one's correspondent to read January 9, 1920, than\n1-9-20. Theoretically, one should write out the date in full: the ninth of\nJanuary, Nineteen hundred and twenty-one. That, however, is the height of\npedantry, and an unswallowable mouthful at the top of any page not a\ndocument.\n\nAt the end of a note \"Thursday\" is sufficient unless the note is an\ninvitation for more than a week ahead, in which case write as in a letter,\n\"January 9\" or \"the ninth of January.\" The year is not necessary since it\ncan hardly be supposed to take a year for a letter's transportation.\n\n\n=SEQUENCE OF PAGES=\n\nIf a note is longer than one page, the third page is usually next, as this\nleaves the fourth blank and prevents the writing from showing through the\nenvelope. With heavy or tissue-lined envelopes, the fourth is used as\noften as the third. In letters one may write first, second, third, fourth,\nin regular order; or first and fourth, then, opening the sheet and turning\nit sideways, write across the two inside pages as one. Many prefer to\nwrite on first, third, then sideways across second and fourth. In certain\ncities--Boston, for instance--the last word on a page is repeated at the\ntop of the next. It is undoubtedly a good idea, but makes a stuttering\nimpression upon one not accustomed to it.\n\n\n=FOLDING A NOTE=\n\nAs to whether a letter is folded in such a way that the recipient shall\nread the contents without having to turn the paper, is giving too much\nimportance to nothing. It is sufficient if the paper is folded _neatly_,\nonce, of course, for the envelope that is half the length of the paper,\nand twice for the envelope that is a third.\n\n\n=SEALING WAX=\n\nIf you use sealing wax, let us hope you are an adept at making an even and\nsmoothly finished seal. Choose a plain-colored wax rather than one\nspeckled with metal. With the sort of paper described for country houses,\nor for young people, or those living in studios or bungalows, gay sealing\nwax may be quite alluring, especially if it can be persuaded to pour\nsmoothly like liquid, and not to look like a streaked and broken off slice\nof dough. In days when envelopes were unknown, all letters had to be\nsealed, hence when envelopes were made, the idea obtained that it was\nimproper to use both gum-arabic and wax. Strictly speaking this may be\ntrue, but since all envelopes have mucilage, it would be unreasonable to\ndemand that those who like to use sealing wax have their envelopes made to\norder.\n\n\n=FORM OF ADDRESS=\n\nThe most formal beginning of a social letter is \"My dear Mrs. Smith.\" (The\nfact that in England \"Dear Mrs. Smith\" is more formal does not greatly\nconcern us in America.) \"Dear Mrs. Smith,\" \"Dear Sarah,\" \"Dear Sally,\"\n\"Sally dear,\" \"Dearest Sally,\" \"Darling Sally,\" are increasingly intimate.\n\nBusiness letters begin:\n\n    Smith, Johnson & Co.,\n    20 Broadway,\n    New York.\n\n    Dear Sirs:\n\nOr if more personal:\n\n    John Smith & Co.,\n    20 Broadway,\n    New York.\n\n    My Dear Mr. Smith:\n\n\n=THE COMPLIMENTARY CLOSE=\n\nThe close of a business letter should be \"Yours truly,\" or \"Yours very\ntruly.\" \"Respectfully\" is used only by a tradesman to a customer, an\nemployee to an employer, or by an inferior, never by a person of equal\nposition. No lady should ever sign a letter \"respectfully,\" not even were\nshe writing to a queen. If an American lady should have occasion to write\nto a queen, she should conclude her letter \"I have the honor to remain,\nMadam, your most obedient.\" (For address and close of letters to persons\nof title, see table at the end of this chapter.)\n\n\n=CLOSE OF PERSONAL NOTES AND LETTERS=\n\nIt is too bad that the English language does not permit the charming and\ngraceful closing of all letters in the French manner, those little flowers\nof compliment that leave such a pleasant fragrance after reading. But\never since the Eighteenth Century the English-speaking have been busy\npruning away all ornament of expression; even the last remaining graces,\n\"kindest regards,\" \"with kindest remembrances,\" are fast disappearing,\nleaving us nothing but an abrupt \"Yours truly,\" or \"Sincerely yours.\"\n\n\n_Closing a Formal Note_\n\nThe best ending to a formal social note is, \"Sincerely,\" \"Sincerely\nyours,\" \"Very sincerely,\" \"Very sincerely yours,\" \"Yours always\nsincerely,\" or \"Always sincerely yours.\"\n\n\"I remain, dear madam,\" is no longer in use, but \"Believe me\" is still\ncorrect when formality is to be expressed in the close of a note.\n\n    Believe me\n    Very sincerely yours,\n\nor\n\n    Believe me, my dear Mrs. Worldly,\n    Most sincerely yours,\n\nThis last is an English form, but it is used by quite a number of\nAmericans--particularly those who have been much abroad.\n\n\n_Appropriate for a Man_\n\n\"Faithfully\" or \"Faithfully yours\" is a very good signature for a man in\nwriting to a woman, or in any uncommercial correspondence, such as a\nletter to the President of the United States, a member of the Cabinet, an\nAmbassador, a clergyman, etc.\n\n\n_The Intimate Closing_\n\n\"Affectionately yours,\" \"Always affectionately,\" \"Affectionately,\"\n\"Devotedly,\" \"Lovingly,\" \"Your loving\" are in increasing scale of\nintimacy.\n\n\"Lovingly\" is much more intimate than \"Affectionately\" and so is\n\"Devotedly.\"\n\n\"Sincerely\" in formal notes and \"Affectionately\" in intimate notes are the\ntwo adverbs most used in the present day, and between these two there is a\nblank; in English we have no expression to fit sentiment more friendly\nthan the first nor one less intimate than the second.\n\n\n_Not Good Form_\n\n\"Cordially\" was coined no doubt to fill this need, but its\nself-consciousness puts it in the category with \"residence\" and \"retire,\"\nand all the other offenses of pretentiousness, and in New York, at least,\nit is not used by people of taste.\n\n\"Warmly yours\" is unspeakable.\n\n\"Yours in haste\" or \"Hastily yours\" is not bad form, but is rather\ncarelessly rude.\n\n\"In a tearing hurry\" is a termination dear to the boarding school girl;\nbut its truth does not make it any more attractive than the vision of that\nsame young girl rushing into a room with her hat and coat half on, to\nswoop upon her mother with a peck of a kiss, and with a \"--by, mamma!\"\nwhirl out again! Turmoil and flurry may be characteristic of the manners\nof to-day; both are far from the ideal of beautiful manners which should\nbe as assured, as smooth, as controlled as the running of a high-grade\nautomobile. Flea-like motions are no better suited to manners than to\nmotors.\n\n\n_Other Endings_\n\n\"Gratefully\" is used only when a benefit has been received, as to a lawyer\nwho has skilfully handled a case; to a surgeon who has saved a life dear\nto you; to a friend who has been put to unusual trouble to do you a favor.\n\nIn an ordinary letter of thanks, the signature is \"Sincerely,\"\n\"Affectionately,\" \"Devotedly\"--as the case may be.\n\nThe phrases that a man might devise to close a letter to his betrothed or\nhis wife are bound only by the limit of his imagination and do not belong\nin this, or any, book.\n\n\n=THE SIGNATURE=\n\nAbroad, the higher the rank, the shorter the name. A duke, for instance,\nsigns himself \"Marlborough,\" nothing else, and a queen her first name\n\"Victoria.\" The social world in Europe, therefore, laughs at us for using\nour whole names, or worse yet, inserting meaningless initials in our\nsignatures. Etiquette in accord with Europe also objects strenuously to\ninitials and demands that names be always engraved, and, if possible,\nwritten in full, but only very correct people strictly observe this rule.\n\nIn Europe all persons have so many names given them in baptism that they\nare forced, naturally, to lay most of them aside, selecting one, or at\nmost two, for use. In America, the names bestowed at baptism become\ninseparably part of each individual, so that if the name is overlong, a\nstring of initials is the inevitable result.\n\nSince, in America, it is not customary for a man to discard any of his\nnames, and John Hunter Titherington Smith is far too much of a pen-full\nfor the one who signs thousands of letters and documents, it is small\nwonder that he chooses J.H.T. Smith, instead, or perhaps, at the end of\npersonal letters, John H.T. Smith. Why shouldn't he? It is, after all, his\nown name to sign as he chooses, and in addressing him deference to his\nchoice should be shown.\n\nA married woman should always sign a letter to a stranger, a bank,\nbusiness firm, etc., with her baptismal name, and add, in parenthesis, her\nmarried name. Thus:\n\n    Very truly yours,\n    Sarah Robinson Smith.\n    (Mrs. J.H. Titherington Smith.)\n\nNever under any circumstances sign a letter \"Mr.\", \"Mrs.\", or \"Miss\"\n(except a note written in the third person). If, in the example above,\nSarah Robinson Smith were \"Miss\" she would put \"Miss\" in parenthesis to\nthe left of her signature:\n\n(Miss) Sarah Robinson Smith.\n\n\n=THE SUPERSCRIPTION=\n\nFormal invitations are always addressed to Mr. Stanley Smith; all other\npersonal letters may be addressed to Stanley Smith, Esq. The title of\nEsquire formerly was used to denote the eldest son of a knight or members\nof a younger branch of a noble house. Later all graduates of universities,\nprofessional and literary men, and important landholders were given the\nright to this title, which even to-day denotes a man of education--a\ngentleman. John Smith, esquire, is John Smith, gentleman. Mr. John Smith\nmay be a gentleman; or may not be one. And yet, as noted above, all\nengraved invitations are addressed \"Mr.\"\n\nNever under any circumstances address a social letter or note to a married\nwoman, even if she is a widow, as Mrs. Mary Town. A widow is still Mrs.\nJames Town. If her son's wife should have the same name, she becomes Mrs.\nJames Town, Sr., or simply Mrs. Town.\n\nA divorced woman, if she was the innocent person, retains the right if she\nchooses, to call herself Mrs. John Brown Smith, but usually she prefers to\ntake her own surname. Supposing her to have been Mary Simpson, she calls\nherself Mrs. Simpson Smith. If a lady is the wife or widow of \"the head of\na family\" she may call herself Mrs. Smith, even on visiting cards and\ninvitations.\n\nThe eldest daughter is Miss Smith; her younger sister, Miss Jane Smith.\n\nInvitations to children are addressed, Miss Katherine Smith and Master\nRobert Smith.\n\nDo not write \"The Messrs. Brown\" in addressing a father and son. \"The\nMessrs. Brown\" is correct only for unmarried brothers.\n\nAlthough one occasionally sees an envelope addressed to \"Mr. and Mrs.\nJones,\" and \"Miss Jones\" written underneath the names of her parents, it\nis better form to send a separate invitation addressed to Miss Jones\nalone. A wedding invitation addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Jones and family is\nnot in good taste. Even if the Jones children are young, the Misses Jones\nshould receive a separate envelope, and so should Master Jones.\n\n\n=ONE LAST REMARK=\n\nWrite the name and address on the envelope as precisely and as legibly as\nyou can. The post-office has enough to do in deciphering the letters of\nthe illiterate, without being asked to do unnecessary work for you!\n\n\n=BUSINESS LETTERS=\n\nBusiness letters written by a private individual differ very little from\nthose sent out from a business house. A lady never says \"Yours of the 6th\nreceived and contents noted,\" or \"Yours to hand,\" nor does she address the\nfirm as \"Gentlemen,\" nor does she _ever_ sign herself \"Respectfully.\" A\nbusiness letter should be as brief and explicit as possible. For example:\n\n                  Tuxedo Park\n                   New York\n                                  May 17, 1922\n\n    I. Paint & Co.,\n      22 Branch St.,\n          New York.\n\n    Dear Sirs:\n\n    Your estimate for painting my dining-room, library, south\n    bedroom, and dressing-room is satisfactory, and you may proceed\n    with the work as soon as possible.\n\n    I find, on the other hand, that wainscoting the hall comes to\n    more than I had anticipated, and I have decided to leave it as it\n    is for the present.\n\n            Very truly yours,\n               C.R. Town.\n    (Mrs. James Town)\n\n\n=THE SOCIAL NOTE=\n\nThere should be no more difficulty in writing a social note than in\nwriting a business letter; each has a specific message for its sole object\nand the principle of construction is the same:\n\n                                                 * Date\n    Address (on business letter only)\n\n    Salutation:\n\n    The statement of whatever is the purpose of the note.\n\n                        Complimentary close,\n                                          Signature.\n    * Or date here\n\nThe difference in form between a business and a social note is that the\nfull name and address of the person written to is never put in the latter,\nbetter quality stationery is used, and the salutation is \"My dear ----\" or\n\"Dear ----\" instead of \"Dear Sir:\"\n\nExample:\n\n                          350 Park Avenue\n\n    Dear Mrs. Robinson:\n\n    I am enclosing the list I promised you--Luberge makes the most\n    beautiful things. Mower, the dressmaker, has for years made\n    clothes for me, and I think Revaud the best milliner in Paris.\n    Leonie is a \"little milliner\" who often has pretty blouses as\n    well as hats and is very reasonable.\n\n    I do hope the addresses will be of some use to you, and that you\n    will have a delightful trip,\n\n                               Very sincerely,\n                                    Martha Kindhart.\n\n    Thursday.\n\n\n=THE NOTE OF APOLOGY=\n\nExamples:\n\n\n=I=\n\n                          BROADLAWNS\n\n    Dear Mrs. Town:\n\n    I do deeply apologize for my seeming rudeness in having to send\n    the message about Monday night.\n\n    When I accepted your invitation, I stupidly forgot entirely that\n    Monday was a holiday and that all of my own guests, naturally,\n    were not leaving until Tuesday morning, and Arthur and I could\n    not therefore go out by ourselves and leave them!\n\n    We were too disappointed and hope that you know how sorry we were\n    not to be with you.\n\n                       Very sincerely,\n                               Ethel Norman.\n    Tuesday morning.\n\n\n=II=\n\n    Dear Mrs. Neighbor:\n\n    My gardener has just told me that our chickens got into your\n    flower beds, and did a great deal of damage.\n\n    The chicken netting is being built higher at this moment and they\n    will not be able to damage anything again. I shall, of course,\n    send Patrick to put in shrubs to replace those broken, although\n    I know that ones newly planted cannot compensate for those you\n    have lost, and I can only ask you to accept my contrite\n    apologies.\n\n    Always sincerely yours,\n          Katherine de Puyster Eminent.\n\n\n=LETTERS OF THANKS=\n\nIn the following examples of letters intimate and from young persons, such\nprofuse expressions as \"divine,\" \"awfully,\" \"petrified,\" \"too sweet,\" \"too\nwonderful,\" are purposely inserted, because to change all of the above\nenthusiasms into \"pleased with,\" \"very,\" \"feared,\" \"most kind,\" would be\nto change the vitality of the \"real\" letters into smug and self-conscious\nutterances at variance with anything ever written by young men and women\nof to-day. Even the letters of older persons, although they are more\nrestrained than those of youth, avoid anything suggesting pedantry and\naffectation.\n\nDo not from this suppose that well-bred people write badly! On the\ncontrary, perfect simplicity and freedom from self-consciousness are\npossible only to those who have acquired at least some degree of\ncultivation. For flagrant examples of pretentiousness (which is the\ninfallible sign of lack of breeding), see page 61. For simplicity of\nexpression, such as is unattainable to the rest of us, but which we can at\nleast strive to emulate, read first the Bible; then at random one might\nsuggest such authors as Robert Louis Stevenson, E.S. Martin, Agnes\nRepplier, John Galsworthy and Max Beerbohm. E.V. Lucas has written two\nnovels in letter form--which illustrate the best type of present day\nletter-writing.\n\n\n=LETTERS OF THANKS FOR WEDDING PRESENTS=\n\nAlthough all wedding presents belong to the bride, she generally words her\nletters of thanks as though they belonged equally to the groom, especially\nif they have been sent by particular friends of his.\n\n\n_To Intimate Friends of the Groom_\n\n\n    Dear Mrs. Norman:\n\n    To think of your sending us all this wonderful glass! It is\n    simply divine, and Jim and I both thank you a thousand times!\n\n    The presents are, of course, to be shown on the day of the\n    wedding, but do come in on Tuesday at tea time for an earlier\n    view.\n\n    Thanking you again, and with love from us both,\n\n    Affectionately,\n    Mary.\n\n\n_Formal_\n\n=I=\n\n\n    Dear Mrs. Gilding:\n\n    It was more than sweet of you and Mr. Gilding to send us such a\n    lovely clock. Thank you, very, very much.\n\n    Looking forward to seeing you on the tenth,\n\n    Very sincerely,\n          Mary Smith.\n\nSometimes, as in the two examples above, thanks to the husband are\ndefinitely expressed in writing to the wife. Usually, however, \"you\" is\nunderstood to mean \"you both.\"\n\n\n=II=\n\n    Dear Mrs. Worldly:\n\n    All my life I have wanted a piece of jade, but in my wanting I\n    have never imagined one quite so beautiful as the one you have\n    sent me. It was wonderfully sweet of you and I thank you more\n    than I can tell you for the pleasure you have given me.\n\n    Affectionately,\n    Mary Smith.\n\n\n=III.=\n\n    Dear Mrs. Eminent:\n\n    Thank you for these wonderful prints. They go too beautifully\n    with some old English ones that Jim's uncle sent us, and our\n    dining-room will be quite perfect--as to walls!\n\n    Hoping that you are surely coming to the wedding,\n\n    Very sincerely,\n           Mary Smith.\n\n\n_To a Friend Who Is in Deep Mourning_\n\n    Dear Susan:\n\n    With all you have on your heart just now, it was so sweet and\n    thoughtful of you to go out and buy me a present, and such a\n    beautiful one! I love it--and your thought of me in sending\n    it--and I thank you more than I can tell you.\n\n    Devotedly,\n    Mary.\n\n\n_Very Intimate_\n\n    Dear Aunt Kate:\n\n    Really you are too generous--it is outrageous of you--but, of\n    course, it _is_ the most beautiful bracelet! And I am so\n    excited oven it, I hardly know what I am doing. You are too good\n    to me and you spoil me, but I do love you, and it, and thank you\n    with all my heart.\n\n    Mary.\n\n\n_Intimate_\n\n\n    Dear Mrs. Neighbor:\n\n    The tea cloth is perfectly exquisite! I have never _seen_ such\n    beautiful work! I appreciate your lovely gift more than I can\n    tell you, both for its own sake and for your kindness in making\n    it for me.\n\n    Don't forget, you are coming in on Tuesday afternoon to see the\n    presents.\n\n    Lovingly,\n    Mary.\n\nSometimes pushing people send presents, when they are not asked to the\nwedding, in the hope of an invitation. Sometimes others send presents,\nwhen they are not asked, merely through kindly feeling toward a young\ncouple on the threshold of life. It ought not to be difficult to\ndistinguish between the two.\n\n\n=I=\n\n\n    My Dear Mrs. Upstart:\n\n    Thank you for the very handsome candlesticks you sent us. They\n    were a great surprize, but it was more than kind of you to think\n    of us.\n\n    Very sincerely,\n    Mary Smith.\n\n\n=II=\n\n\n    Dear Mrs. Kindly:\n\n    I can't tell you how sweet I think it of you to send us such a\n    lovely present, and Jim and I both hope that when we are in our\n    own home, you will see them often at our table.\n\n    Thanking you many times for your thought of us,\n\n    Very sincerely,\n    Mary Smith.\n\n\n_For a Present Sent After the Wedding_\n\n    Dear Mrs. Chatterton:\n\n    The mirror you sent us is going over our drawing-room mantel just\n    as soon as we can hang it up! It is exactly what we most needed\n    and we both thank you ever so much.\n\n    Please come in soon to see how becoming it will be to the room.\n\n    Yours affectionately,\n            Mary Smith Smartlington.\n\n\n=THANKS FOR CHRISTMAS OR OTHER PRESENTS=\n\n    Dear Lucy:\n\n    I really think it was adorable of you to have a chair like yours\n    made for me. It was worth adding a year to my age for such a nice\n    birthday present. Jack says I am never going to have a chance to\n    sit in it, however, if he gets there first, and even the children\n    look at it with longing. At all events, I am perfectly enchanted\n    with it, and thank you ever and ever so much.\n\n                               Affectionately,\n                                       Sally.\n\n\n\n    Dear Uncle Arthur:\n\n    I know I oughtn't to have opened it until Christmas, but I\n    couldn't resist the look of the package, and then putting it on\n    at once! So I am all dressed up in your beautiful chain. It is\n    one of the loveliest things I have ever seen and I certainly am\n    lucky to have it given to me I Thank you a thousand--and then\n    more--times for it.\n\n                                           Rosalie.\n\n\n    Dear Kate:\n\n    I am fascinated with my utility box--it is too beguiling for\n    words! You are the cleverest one anyway for finding what no one\n    else can--and every one wants. I don't know how you do it! And\n    you certainly were sweet to think of me. Thank you, dear.\n\n    Ethel.\n\n\n=THANKS FOR PRESENT TO A BABY=\n\n    Dear Mrs. Kindhart:\n\n    Of course it would be! Because no one else can sew like you! The\n    sacque you made the baby is the prettiest thing I have ever seen,\n    and is perfectly adorable on her! Thank you, as usual, you dear\n    Mrs. Kindhart, for your goodness to\n\n                               Your affectionate,\n                                        Sally.\n\n\n\n    Dear Mrs. Norman:\n\n    Thank you ever so much for the lovely afghan you sent the baby.\n    It is by far the prettiest one he has; it is so soft and\n    close--he doesn't get his fingers tangled in it.\n\n    Do come in and see him, won't you? We are both allowed visitors\n    (especial ones) every day between 4 and 5.30!\n\n    Affectionately always,\n                Lucy.\n\n\n=THE BREAD AND BUTTER LETTER=\n\nWhen you have been staying over Sunday, or for longer, in some one's\nhouse, it is absolutely necessary that you write a letter of thanks to\nyour hostess within a few days after the visit.\n\n\"Bread and butter letters,\" as they are called, are the stumbling-blocks\nof visitors. Why they are so difficult for nearly every one is hard to\ndetermine, unless it is that they are often written to persons with whom\nyou are on formal terms, and the letter should be somewhat informal in\ntone. Very likely you have been visiting a friend, and must write to her\nmother, whom you scarcely know; perhaps you have been included in a large\nand rather formal house party and the hostess is an acquaintance rather\nthan a friend; or perhaps you are a bride and have been on a first visit\nto relatives or old friends of your husband's, but strangers, until now,\nto you.\n\nAs an example of the first, where you have been visiting a girl friend and\nmust write a letter to her mother, you begin \"Dear Mrs. Town\" at the top\nof a page, and nothing in the forbidding memory of Mrs. Town encourages\nyou to go further. It would be easy enough to write to Pauline, the\ndaughter. Very well, write to Pauline then--on an odd piece of paper, in\npencil, what a good time you had, how nice it was to be with her. Then\ncopy your note composed to Pauline off on the page beginning \"Dear Mrs.\nTown.\" You have only to add, \"love to Pauline, and thanking you again for\nasking me,\" sign it \"Very sincerely,\" and there you are!\n\nDon't be afraid that your note is too informal; older people are always\npleased with any expressions from the young that seem friendly and\nspontaneous. Never think, because you can not easily write a letter, that\nit is better not to write at all. The most awkward note that can be\nimagined is better than none--for to write none is the depth of rudeness,\nwhereas the awkward note merely fails to delight.\n\n\n=EXAMPLES=\n\n_From a Young Woman to a Formal Hostess After a House Party_\n\n    Dear Mrs. Norman:\n\n    I don't know when I ever had such a good time as I did at\n    Broadlawns. Thank you a thousand times for asking me. As it\n    happened, the first persons I saw on Monday at the Towns' dinner\n    were Celia and Donald. We immediately had a threesome\n    conversation on the wonderful time we all had over Sunday.\n\n    Thanking you again for your kindness to me,\n\n    Very sincerely yours,\n    Grace Smalltalk.\n\n\n_To a Formal Hostess After an Especially Amusing Week-End_\n\n    Dear Mrs. Worldly:\n\n    Every moment at Great Estates was a perfect delight! I am afraid\n    my work at the office this morning was down to zero in\n    efficiency; so perhaps it is just as well, if I am to keep my\n    job, that the average week-end in the country is different--very.\n    Thank you all the same, for the wonderful time you gave us all,\n    and believe me\n\n                                    Faithfully yours,\n                                         Frederick Bachelor.\n\n    Dear Mrs. Worldly:\n\n    Every time I come from Great Estates, I realize again that there\n    is no house to which I always go with so much pleasure, and leave\n    on Monday morning with so much regret.\n\n    Your party over this last week-end was simply wonderful! And\n    thank you ever so much for having included me.\n\n    Always sincerely,\n    Constance Style.\n\n\n_From a Young Couple_\n\n    Dear Mrs. Town:\n\n    We had a perfect time at Tuxedo over Sunday and it was so good of\n    you to include us. Jack says he is going to practise putting the\n    way Mr. Town showed him, and maybe the next time he plays in a\n    foursome he won't be such a handicap to his partner.\n\n    Thanking you both for the pleasure you gave us,\n\n    Affectionately yours,\n        Sally Titherington Littlehouse\n\n\n_From a Bride to Her New Relatives-in-Law_\n\nA letter that was written by a bride after paying a first visit to her\nhusband's aunt and uncle won for her at a stroke the love of the whole\nfamily.\n\nThis is the letter:\n\n    Dear \"Aunt Annie\":\n\n    Now that it is all over, I have a confession to make! Do you know\n    that when Dick drove me up to your front door and I saw you and\n    Uncle Bob standing on the top step--I was simply _paralyzed_ with\n    fright!\n\n    \"Suppose they don't like me,\" was all that I could think. Of\n    course, I knew you loved Dick--but that only made it worse. How\n    awful, if you _couldn't_ like me! The reason I stumbled coming up\n    the steps was because my knees were actually knocking together!\n    You remember, Uncle Bob sang out it was good I was already\n    married, or I wouldn't be this year? And then--you were both so\n    perfectly adorable to me--and you made me feel as though I had\n    always been your niece--and not just the wife of your nephew.\n\n    I loved every minute of our being with you, dear Aunt Annie, just\n    as much as Dick did, and we hope you are going to let us come\n    soon again.\n\n    With best love from us both,\n\n    Your affectionate niece,\n                   Helen.\n\nThe above type of letter would not serve perhaps if Dick's aunt had been a\nforbidding and austere type of woman; but even such a one would be far\nmore apt to take a new niece to her heart if the new niece herself gave\nevidence of having one.\n\n\n_After Visiting a Friend_\n\n    Dear Kate:\n\n    It was hideously dull and stuffy in town this morning after the\n    fresh coolness of Strandholm. The back yard is not an alluring\n    outlook after the wide spaces and delicious fragrance of your\n    garden.\n\n    It was good being with you and I enjoyed every moment. Don't\n    forget you are lunching here on the 16th and that we are going to\n    hear Kreisler together.\n\n    Devotedly always,\n    Caroline.\n\n\n_From a Man Who Has Been Ill and Convalescing at a Friend's House_\n\n    Dear Martha:\n\n    I certainly hated taking that train this morning and realizing\n    that the end had come to my peaceful days. You and John and the\n    children, and your place, which is the essence of all that a\n    \"home\" ought to be, have put me on my feet again. I thank you\n    much--much more than I can say for the wonderful goodness of all\n    of you.\n\n    Fred.\n\n\n_From a Woman Who Has Been Visiting a Very Old Friend_\n\n    I loved my visit with you, dear Mary; it was more than good to be\n    with you and have a chance for long talks at your fireside. Don't\n    forget your promise to come here in May! I told Sam and Hettie\n    you were coming, and now the whole town is ringing with the news,\n    and every one is planning a party for you.\n\n    David sends \"his best\" to you and Charlie, and you know you\n    always have the love of\n\n    Your devoted\n             Pat.\n\n\n_To an Acquaintance_\n\nAfter a visit to a formal acquaintance or when some one has shown you\nespecial hospitality in a city where you are a stranger:\n\n    My dear Mrs. Duluth:\n\n    It was more than good of you to give my husband and me so much\n    pleasure. We enjoyed, and appreciated, all your kindness to us\n    more than we can say.\n\n    We hope that you and Mr. Duluth may be coming East before long\n    and that we may then have the pleasure of seeing you at\n    Strandholm.\n\n    In the meanwhile, thanking you for your generous hospitality, and\n    with kindest regards to you both, in which my husband joins,\n    believe me,\n\n    Very sincerely yours,\n           Katherine de Puyster Eminent.\n\n\n=AN ENGRAVED CARD OF THANKS=\n\nAn engraved card of thanks is proper only when sent by a public official\nto acknowledge the overwhelming number of congratulatory messages he must\ninevitably receive from strangers, when he has carried an election or\notherwise been honored with the confidence of his State or country. A\nrecent and excellent example follows:\n\n\n=EXECUTIVE MANSION=\n\n    My dear....\n\n=I warmly appreciate your kind message of congratulation which has given\nme a great deal of pleasure, and sincerely wish that it were possible for\nme to acknowledge it in a less formal manner.=\n\n            =Faithfully,=\n\n            (_signed by hand_)\n\n\n            An engraved form of thanks for sympathy, also from\n            one in public life, is presented in the following example:\n\n                      Mr. John Smith\n            wishes to express his deep gratitude\n                      and to thank you\n            for your kind expression of sympathy\n\n_But remember_: an engraved card sent by a private individual to a\npersonal friend, is not \"stylish\" or smart, but _rude_. (See also\nengraved acknowledgment of sympathy, pages 406-7.)\n\n\n=THE LETTER OF INTRODUCTION=\n\nA letter of business introduction can be much more freely given than a\nletter of social introduction. For the former it is necessary merely that\nthe persons introduced have business interests in common--which are much\nmore easily determined than social compatibility, which is the requisite\nnecessary for the latter. It is, of course, proper to give your personal\nrepresentative a letter of introduction to whomever you send him.\n\nOn the subject of letters of social introduction there is one chief rule:\n\nNever _ask_ for letters of introduction, and be very sparing in your\noffers to write or accept them.\n\nSeemingly few persons realize that a letter of social introduction is\nactually a draft for payment on demand. The form might as well be: \"The\nbearer of this has (because of it) the right to _demand your interest_,\nyour time, your hospitality--liberally and at once, no matter what your\ninclination may be.\"\n\nTherefore, it is far better to refuse in the beginning, than to hedge and\nend by committing the greater error of unwarrantedly inconveniencing a\nvalued friend or acquaintance.\n\nWhen you have a friend who is going to a city where you have other\nfriends, and you believe that it will be a mutual pleasure for them to\nmeet, a letter of introduction is proper and very easy to write, but sent\nto a casual acquaintance--no matter how attractive or distinguished the\nperson to be introduced--it is a gross presumption.\n\n\n=THE MORE FORMAL NOTE OF INTRODUCTION=\n\n    Dear Mrs. Marks:\n\n    Julian Gibbs is going to Buffalo on January tenth to deliver a\n    lecture on his Polar expedition, and I am sending him a card of\n    introduction to you. He is very agreeable personally, and I think\n    that perhaps you and Mr. Marks will enjoy meeting him as much as\n    I know he would enjoy knowing you.\n\n    With kindest regards, in which Arthur joins,\n\n    Very sincerely,\n              Ethel Norman.\n\nIf Mr. Norman were introducing one man to another he would give his card\nto the former, inscribed as follows:\n\n    [HW: Introducing Julian Gibbs]\n\n    =MR. ARTHUR LEES NORMAN=\n\n           BROADLAWNS\n\nAlso Mr. Norman would send a private letter by mail, telling his friend\nthat Mr. Gibbs is coming, as follows:\n\n    Dear Marks:\n\n    I am giving Julian Gibbs a card of introduction to you when he\n    goes to Buffalo on the tenth to lecture. He is an entertaining\n    and very decent fellow, and I think possibly Mrs. Marks would\n    enjoy meeting him. If you can conveniently ask him to your house,\n    I know he would appreciate it; if not, perhaps you will put him\n    up for a day or two at a club.\n\n     Faithfully,\n    Arthur Norman.\n\n\n=INFORMAL LETTER OF INTRODUCTION=\n\n    Dear Claire:\n\n    A very great friend of ours, James Dawson, is to be in Chicago\n    for several weeks. Any kindness that you can show him will be\n    greatly appreciated by\n\n    Yours as always,\n    Ethel Norman.\n\nAt the same time a second and private letter of information is written\nand sent by mail:\n\n    Dear Claire:\n\n    I wrote you a letter to-day introducing Jim Dawson. He used to be\n    on the Yalvard football team, perhaps you remember. He is one of\n    the best sort in the world and I know you will like him. I don't\n    want to put you to any trouble, but do ask him to your house if\n    you can. He plays a wonderful game of golf and a good game of\n    bridge, but he is more a man's than a woman's type of man. Maybe\n    if Tom likes him, he will put him up at a club as he is to be in\n    Chicago for some weeks.\n\n    Affectionately always,\n    Ethel.\n\nAnother example:\n\n    Dear Caroline:\n\n    A very dear friend of mine, Mrs. Fred West, is going to be in New\n    York this winter, while her daughter is at Barnard. I am asking\n    her to take this letter to you as I want very much to have her\n    meet you and have her daughter meet Pauline. Anything that you\n    can do for them will be the same as for me!\n\n    Yours affectionately,\n        Sylvia Greatlake.\n\nThe private letter by mail to accompany the foregoing:\n\n    Dearest Caroline:\n\n    Mildred West, for whom I wrote to you this morning, is a very\n    close friend of mine. She is going to New York with her only\n    daughter--who, in spite of wanting a college education, is as\n    pretty as a picture, with plenty of come-hither in the eye--so do\n    not be afraid that the typical blue-stocking is to be thrust upon\n    Pauline! The mother is an altogether lovely person and I know\n    that you and she will speak the same language--if I didn't, I\n    wouldn't give her a letter to you. Do go to see her as soon as\n    you can; she will be stopping at the Fitz-Cherry and probably\n    feeling rather lost at first. She wants to take an apartment for\n    the winter and I told her I was sure you would know the best real\n    estate and intelligence offices, etc., for her to go to.\n\n    I hope I am not putting you to any trouble about her, but she is\n    really a darling and you will like her I know.\n\n    Devotedly yours,\n        Sylvia.\n\nDirections for procedure upon being given (or receiving) a letter of\nintroduction will be found on pages 16 and 17.\n\n\n=THE THIRD PERSON=\n\nIn other days when even verbal messages began with the \"presenting of\ncompliments,\" a social note, no matter what its length or purport, would\nhave been considered rude, unless written in the third person. But as in a\ncommunication of any length the difficulty of this form is almost\ninsurmountable (to say nothing of the pedantic effect of its\naccomplishment), it is no longer chosen--aside from the formal invitation,\nacceptance and regret--except for notes to stores or subordinates. For\nexample:\n\n    Will B. Stern & Co. please send (and charge) to Mrs. John H.\n    Smith, 2 Madison Avenue,\n\n        1 paper of needles No. 9\n        2 spools white sewing Cotton No. 70\n        1 yard of material (sample enclosed).\n\n    January 6.\n\nTo a servant:\n\n    Mrs. Eminent wishes Patrick to meet her at the station on Tuesday\n    the eighth at 11.03. She also wishes him to have the shutters\n    opened and the house aired on that day, and a fire lighted in the\n    northwest room. No provisions will be necessary as Mrs. Eminent\n    is returning to town on the 5.16.\n\n    Tuesday, March 1.\n\n\nLetters in the third person are no longer signed unless the sender's\nsignature is necessary for identification, or for some action on the part\nof the receiver, such as\n\n    Will Mr. Cash please give the bearer six yards of material to\n    match the sample enclosed, and oblige,\n\n    Mrs. John H. Smith.[A]\n\n[Footnote A: A note in 3rd person is the single occasion when a married\nwoman signs \"Mrs.\" before her name.]\n\n\n=THE LETTER OF RECOMMENDATION=\n\nA letter of recommendation for membership to a club is addressed to the\nsecretary and should be somewhat in this form:\n\n\nTo the Secretary of the Town Club.\n\n    My dear Mrs. Brown:\n\n    Mrs. Titherington Smith, whose name is posted for membership, is\n    a very old and close friend of mine. She is the daughter of the\n    late Rev. Samuel Eminent and is therefore a member in her own\n    right, as well as by marriage, of representative New York\n    families.\n\nShe is a person of much charm and distinction, and her many friends will\nagree with me, I am sure, in thinking that she would be a valuable\naddition to the club.\n\n    Very sincerely,\n    Ethel Norman.\n\n\n=RECOMMENDATION OF EMPLOYEES=\n\nAlthough the written recommendation that is given to the employee carries\nvery little weight, compared to the slip from the employment agencies\nwhere either \"yes\" or \"no\" has to be answered to a list of specific and\nimportant questions, one is nevertheless put in a trying position when\nreporting on an unsatisfactory servant.\n\nEither a poor reference must be given--possibly preventing a servant from\nearning her living--or one has to write what is not true. Consequently it\nhas become the custom to say what one truthfully can of good, and leave\nout the qualifications that are bad (except in the case of a careless\nnurse, where evasion would border on the criminal).\n\nThat solves the poor recommendation problem pretty well; but unless one is\nvery careful this consideration for the \"poor\" one, is paid for by the\n\"good.\" In writing for a very worthy servant therefore, it is of the\nutmost importance in fairness to her (or him) to put in every merit that\nyou can think of, remembering that omission implies demerit in each trait\nof character not mentioned. All good references should include honesty,\nsobriety, capability, and a reason, other than their unsatisfactoriness,\nfor their leaving. The recommendation for a nurse can not be too\nconscientiously written.\n\nA lady does not begin a recommendation: \"To whom it may concern,\" nor\n\"This is to certify,\" although housekeepers and head servants writing\nrecommendations use both of these forms, and \"third person\" letters, are\nfrequently written by secretaries.\n\nA lady in giving a good reference should write:\n\n    Two Hundred Park Square.\n\n    Selma Johnson has lived with me for two years as cook.\n\n    I have found her honest, sober, industrious, neat in her person\n    as well as her work, of amiable disposition and a very good cook.\n\n    She is leaving to my great regret because I am closing my house\n    for the winter.\n\n    Selma is an excellent servant in every way and I shall be glad to\n    answer personally any inquiries about her.\n\n                               Josephine Smith.\n                               (Mrs. Titherington Smith)\n    October, 1921.\n\n\n\n\n\nThe form of all recommendations is the same:\n\n    ---- has lived with me ---- months years as ----. I have found\n    him/ her ----. He/She is leaving because ----.\n\n(Any special remark of added recommendation or showing interest)\n\n                                 ----\n    (Mrs. ----)\n\n    Date.\n\n\n=LETTERS OF CONGRATULATION=\n\n\n=LETTER OF CONGRATULATION ON ENGAGEMENT=\n\n\n    Dear Mary:\n\n    While we are not altogether surprized, we are both delighted to\n    hear the good news. Jim's family and ours are very close, as you\n    know, and we have always been especially devoted to Jim. He is\n    one of the finest--and now luckiest, of young men, and we send\n    you both every good wish for all possible happiness.\n\n    Affectionately,\n    Ethel Norman.\n\n\n    Just a line, dear Jim, to tell you how glad we all are to hear of\n    your happiness. Mary is everything that is lovely and, of course,\n    from our point of view, we don't think her exactly unfortunate\n    either! Every good wish that imagination can think of goes to you\n    from your old friends.\n\n    Ethel and Arthur Norman.\n\n\n    I can't tell you, dearest Mary, of all the wishes I send for your\n    happiness. Give Jim my love and tell him how lucky I think he is,\n    and how much I hope all good fortune will come to you both.\n\n    Lovingly,\n         Aunt Kate.\n\n\n=CONGRATULATION ON SOME ESPECIAL SUCCESS=\n\n\n    My dear Mrs. Brown:\n\n    We have just heard of the honors that your son has won. How proud\n    you must be of him! We are both so glad for him and for you.\n    Please congratulate him for us, and believe me,\n\n    Very sincerely,\n        Ethel Norman.\n\nOr:\n\n    Dear Mrs. Brown:\n\n    We are so glad to hear the good news of David's success; it was a\n    very splendid accomplishment and we are all so proud of him and\n    of you. Please give him our love and congratulations, and with\n    full measure of both to you,\n\n    Affectionately,\n          Martha Kindhart.\n\n\n=CONGRATULATING A FRIEND APPOINTED TO HIGH OFFICE=\n\n    Dear John:\n\n    We are overjoyed at the good news! For once the reward has fallen\n    where it is deserved. Certainly no one is better fitted than\n    yourself for a diplomat's life, and we know you will fill the\n    position to the honor of your country. Please give my love to\n    Alice, and with renewed congratulations to you from us both.\n\n    Yours always,\n    Ethel Norman.\n\n\nAnother example:\n\n    Dear Michael:\n\n    We all rejoice with you in the confirmation of your appointment.\n    The State needs just such men as you--if we had more of your sort\n    the ordinary citizen would have less to worry about. Our best\n    congratulations!\n\n    John Kindhart.\n\n\n=THE LETTER OF CONDOLENCE=\n\nIntimate letters of condolence are like love letters, in that they are too\nsacred to follow a set form. One rule, and one only, should guide you in\nwriting such letters. Say what you truly feel. Say that and nothing else.\nSit down at your desk, let your thoughts dwell on the person you are\nwriting to.\n\nDon't dwell on the details of illness or the manner of death; don't quote\nendlessly from the poets and Scriptures. Remember that eyes filmed with\ntears and an aching heart can not follow rhetorical lengths of writing.\nThe more nearly a note can express a hand-clasp, a thought of sympathy,\nabove all, a genuine love or appreciation of the one who has gone, the\ngreater comfort it brings.\n\nWrite as simply as possible and let your heart speak as truly and as\nbriefly as you can. Forget, if you can, that you are using written words,\nthink merely how you feel--then put your feelings on paper--that is all.\n\nSupposing it is a young mother who has died. You think how young and sweet\nshe was--and of her little children, and, literally, your heart aches for\nthem and her husband and her own family. Into your thoughts must come some\nexpression of what she was, and what their loss must be!\n\nOr maybe it is the death of a man who has left a place in the whole\ncommunity that will be difficult, if not impossible, to fill, and you\nthink of all he stood for that was fine and helpful to others, and how\nmuch and sorely he will be missed. Or suppose that you are a returned\nsoldier, and it is a pal who has died. All you can think of is \"Poor old\nSteve--what a peach he was! I don't think anything will ever be the same\nagain without him.\" Say just that! Ask if there is anything you can do at\nany time to be of service to his people. There is nothing more to be said.\nA line, into which you have unconsciously put a little of the genuine\nfeeling that you had for Steve, is worth pages of eloquence.\n\nA letter of condolence may be abrupt, badly constructed,\nungrammatical--never mind. Grace of expression counts for nothing;\nsincerity alone is of value. It is the expression, however clumsily put,\nof a personal something which was loved, and will ever be missed, that\nalone brings solace to those who are left. Your message may speak merely\nof a small incident--something so trifling that in the seriousness of the\npresent, seems not worth recording; but your letter and that of many\nothers, each bringing a single sprig, may plant a whole memory-garden in\nthe hearts of the bereaved.\n\n\n=EXAMPLES OF NOTES AND TELEGRAMS=\n\nAs has been said above, a letter of condolence must above everything\nexpress a genuine sentiment. The few examples are inserted merely as\nsuggestive guides for those at a loss to construct a short but appropriate\nnote or telegram.\n\n\n_Conventional Note to an Acquaintance_\n\n    I know how little the words of an outsider mean to you just\n    now--but I must tell you how deeply I sympathize with you in your\n    great loss.\n\n\n_Note or Telegram to a Friend_\n\n    All my sympathy and all my thoughts are with you in your great\n    sorrow. If I can be of any service to you, you know how grateful\n    I shall be.\n\n_Telegram to a Very Near Relative or Friend_\n\n    Words are so empty! If only I knew how to fill them with love and\n    send them to you.\n\nOr:\n\n    If love and thoughts could only help you, Margaret dear, you\n    should have all the strength of both that I can give.\n\n\n_Letter Where Death Was Release_\n\nThe letter to one whose loss is \"for the best\" is difficult in that you\nwant to express sympathy but can not feel sad that one who has long\nsuffered has found release. The expression of sympathy in this case should\nnot be for the present death, but for the illness, or whatever it was that\nfell long ago. The grief for a paralysed mother is for the stroke which\ncut her down many years before, and your sympathy, though you may not have\nrealized it, is for that. You might write:\n\n    Your sorrow during all these years--and now--is in my heart; and\n    all my thoughts and sympathy are with you.\n\n\n\n=HOW TO ADDRESS IMPORTANT PERSONAGES=\n\n===============+=====================+============================+=============\n               | If you              |                            | Formal\n               | are speaking,       |                            | beginning of\n               | you say:            | Envelope addressed:        | a letter:\n---------------+---------------------+----------------------------+-------------\nThe President  | Mr. President       | The President of the       | Sir:\n               | And occasionally    | United States              |\n               | throughout a        |    or merely               |\n               | conversation,       | The President,             |\n               | Sir.                | Washington, D.C.           |\n               |                     | (There is only one         |\n               |                     | \"President\")               |\n               |                     |                            |\n               |                     |                            |\n---------------+---------------------+----------------------------+-------------\nThe            | Mr. Vice-President  | The Vice-President,        | Sir:\nVice-President | and then, Sir.      | Washington, D.C.           |\n               |                     |                            |\n---------------+---------------------+----------------------------+-------------\nJustice of     | Mr. Justice         | The Hon. William H. Taft,  | Sir:\nSupreme Court  |                     | Chief Justice of the       |\n               |                     | Supreme Court,             |\n               |                     | Washington, D.C.           |\n               |                     |                            |\n               |                     |                            |\n---------------+---------------------+----------------------------+-------------\nMember of the  | Mr. Secretary       | The Secretary of Commerce, | Dear Sir:\nPresident's    |                     | Washington, D.C.   or:     | or\nCabinet        |                     | The Hon. Herbert Hoover,   | Sir:\n               |                     | Secretary of Commerce,     |\n               |                     | Washington, D.C.           |\n---------------+---------------------+----------------------------+-------------\nUnited States  | Senator Lodge       | Senator Henry Cabot Lodge, | Dear Sir:\n(or State)     |                     | Washington, D.C.           | or\nSenator        |                     | or a private letter:       | Sir:\n               |                     | Senator Henry Cabot Lodge, |\n               |                     | (His house address)        |\n               |                     |                            |\n---------------+---------------------+----------------------------+-------------\nMember of      | Mr. Bell            | The Hon. H.C. Bell, Jr.,   | Dear Sir:\nCongress (or   | or, you may say     | House of Representatives,  | or\nLegislature)   | Congressman         | Washington, D.C.           | Sir:\n               |                     | or: State Assembly,        |\n               |                     | Albany, New York.          |\n---------------+---------------------+----------------------------+-------------\nGovernor       | Governor Miller     | His Excellency, The        |\n               | (The Governor is    | Governor,                  | Your\n               | not called          | Albany, New York.          | Excellency:\n               | Excellency when     |                            |\n               | spoken to and very  |                            |\n               | rarely when he is   |                            |\n               | announced. But      |                            |\n               | letters are         |                            |\n               | addressed and begun |                            |\n               | with this title     |                            |\n               | of courtesy.)       |                            |\n---------------+---------------------+----------------------------+-------------\nMayor          | Mr. Mayor           | His Honor the Mayor,       | Dear Sir:\n               |                     | City Hall, Chicago.        | or\n               |                     |                            | Sir:\n---------------+---------------------+----------------------------+-------------\nCardinal       | Your Eminence       | His Eminence John Cardinal | Your\n               |                     | Gibbons, Baltimore, Md.    | Eminence:\n               |                     |                            |\n               |                     |                            |\n===============+=====================+==========================================\n\n\n\n(section 2)\n+==============+================================================================\n|              |                     |                     |\n| Informal     |                     |                     | Correct titles in\n| beginning:   |    Formal Close:    |   Informal close:   |   introduction:\n|--------------+---------------------+---------------------+--------------------\n| My dear Mr.  | I have the honor to |                     |\n| President:   |      remain,        | I have the honor to |\n|              |  Most respectfully  |    remain,          |\n|              |      yours,         |  Yours faithfully,  |\n|              |        or           |          or         | The President.\n|              | I have the honor to |     I am, dear      |\n|              |   remain, sir,      |    Mr. President,   |\n|              | Your most obedient  |  Yours faithfully.  |\n|              |     servant.        |                     |\n+--------------+---------------------+---------------------+--------------------\n| My dear      |     Same as for     |     Believe me,     |      The\n| Mr. Vice     |      President.     |  Yours faithfully.  | Vice-President.\n| President:   |                     |                     |\n+--------------+---------------------+---------------------+--------------------\n| Dear Mr.     |     Believe me,     |                     | The Chief Justice\n| Justice      |  Yours very truly,  |                     |       or,\n| Taft:        |         or          |     Believe me,     |      if an\n|              | I have the honor to |  Yours faithfully.  | Associate Justice,\n|              |      remain,        |                     |   Mr. Justice\n|              |  Yours very truly.  |                     |      Holmes.\n+--------------+---------------------+---------------------+--------------------\n| My dear Mr.  |                     |                     |  The Secretary\n| Secretary:   |    Same as above.   |   Same as above.    |   of Commerce.\n|              |                     |                     |\n|              |                     |                     |\n|              |                     |                     |\n+--------------+---------------------+---------------------+--------------------\n| Dear Senator |                     |                     |  Senator Lodge.\n| Lodge:       |                     |                     |  On very formal\n|              |    Same as above.   |   Same as above.    |   and unusual\n|              |                     |                     |    occasions,\n|              |                     |                     | Senator Lodge of\n|              |                     |                     |  Massachusetts.\n+--------------+---------------------+---------------------+--------------------\n| Dear         |                     |                     |    Mr. Bell.\n| Mr. Bell:    |     Believe me,     |                     |\n| or           |  Yours very truly.  |  Yours faithfully.  |\n| Dear         |                     |                     |\n| Congressman: |                     |                     |\n+--------------+---------------------+---------------------+--------------------\n| Dear         |                     |                     |   The Governor\n| Governor     | I have the honor to |     Believe me,     |(in his own state)\n| Miller:      |      remain,        |  Yours faithfully.  | or, (out of it,)\n|              |  Yours faithfully.  |                     |  The Governor of\n|              |                     |                     |     Michigan.\n|              |                     |                     |\n|              |                     |                     |\n|              |                     |                     |\n|              |                     |                     |\n|              |                     |                     |\n|              |                     |                     |\n+--------------+---------------------+---------------------+--------------------\n| Dear Mayor   |    Believe me,      |  Yours faithfully.  |   Mayor Rolph.\n| Rolph:       |  Very truly yours.  |                     |\n|              |                     |                     |\n+--------------+---------------------+---------------------+--------------------\n| Your         | I have the honor to |                     |\n| Eminence:    |       remain,       |   Your Eminence's   |   His Eminence.\n|              |   Your Eminence's   |   humble servant.   |\n|              |   humble servant.   |                     |\n+==============+=====================+=====================+====================\n\n\n\n=HOW TO ADDRESS IMPORTANT PERSONAGES=\n\n===============+======================+=======================+=================\n               |                      |                       |\n               | If you are           | Envelope              | Formal beginning\n               | speaking,  you say:  | addressed:            | of a letter\n---------------+----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------\nRoman Catholic | Your Grace           | The Most Reverend     | Most Reverend\nArchbishop     |                      | Michael Corrigan,     | and dear Sir:\n(There is no   |                      | Archbishop of         |\nProtestant     |                      | New York.             |\nArchbishop in  |                      |                       |\nthe United     |                      |                       |\nStates)        |                      |                       |\n---------------+----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------\nBishop         | Bishop Manning       | To the Right Reverend | Most Reverend\n(Whether Roman |                      | William T. Manning,   | and dear Sir:\nCatholic or    |                      | Bishop of New York.   |\nProtestant.)   |                      |                       |\n               |                      |                       |\n---------------+----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------\nPriest         | Father or            | The Rev.              | Reverend\n               | Father Duffy         | Michael Duffy.        | and dear Sir:\n---------------+----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------\nProtestant     | Mr. Saintly          | The Rev. Geo.         | Sir:\nClergyman      | (If he is D.D. or    | Saintly. (If you do   | or\n               | LL.D., you call him  | not know his first    | My dear Sir:\n               | Dr. Saintly.)        | name, write The       |\n               |                      | Rev. ... Saintly.     |\n               |                      | rather than the       |\n               |                      | Rev. Mr. Saintly)     |\n---------------+----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------\nRabbi          | Rabbi Wise           | Dr. Stephen Wise,     | Dear Sir:\n               | (If he is D.D. or    | or Rabbi Stephen      |\n               | LL.D., he is called  | Wise, or Rev.         |\n               | Dr. Wise)            | Stephen Wise.         |\n---------------+----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------\nAmbassador     | Your Excellency      | His Excellency        | Your\n               | or                   | The American          | Excellency:\n               | Mr. Ambassador       | Ambassador,[B]        |\n               |                      | American Embassy,     |\n               |                      | London.               |\n               |                      |                       |\n               |                      |                       |\n               |                      |                       |\n---------------+----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------\nMinister       | In English he is     | The Hon. J.D.         | Sir: is\nPleni-         | usually called \"Mr.  | Prince, American      | correct but,\npotentiary     | Prince,\" though it   | Legation,             | Your\n               | is not incorrect to  | Copenhagen, or        | Excellency:\n               | call him \"Mr.        | (more courteously)    | is sometimes\n               | Minister.\" The       | His Excellency, The   | used in\n               | title \"Excellency\"   | American Minister,    | courtesy.\n               | is also occasionally | Copenhagen, Denmark   |\n               | used in courtesy,    |                       |\n               | though it does not   |                       |\n               | belong to him.       |                       |\n               | In French he is      |                       |\n               | always called        |                       |\n               | _Monsieur le         |                       |\n               | Ministre_            |                       |\n---------------+----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------\nConsul         | Mr. Smith            | If he has held office | Sir:\n               |                      | as assemblyman or     | or\n               |                      | commissioner, so that | My dear Sir:\n               |                      | he has the right to   |\n               |                      | the title of          |\n               |                      | \"Honorable\" is        |\n               |                      | addressed:            |\n               |                      | The Hon. John Smith,  |\n               |                      | otherwise:            |\n               |                      | John Smith, Esq.,     |\n               |                      | American Consul,      |\n               |                      | Rue Quelque Chose,    |\n               |                      | Paris.                |\n===============+======================+=======================+=================\n\n\n(section 2)\n+===================+=========================+================+================\n|                   |                         |                | Correct\n| Informal          |                         | Informal       | titles in\n| beginning:        | Formal close:           | close:         | introduction:\n+-------------------+-------------------------+----------------+----------------\n| Most Reverend     | I have the honor        | Same as formal | The Most\n| and Dear Sir:     | to remain,              | close.         | Reverend The\n|                   | Your humble servant,    |                | Archbishop.\n|                   |                         |                |\n|                   |                         |                |\n|                   |                         |                |\n|                   |                         |                |\n+-------------------+-------------------------+----------------+----------------\n| My Dear Bishop    | I have the honor to     | Faithfully     | Bishop\n| Manning:          | remain, Your obedient   | yours.         | Manning.\n|                   | servant, or, to         |                |\n|                   | remain,                 |                |\n|                   | Respectfully yours,     |                |\n+-------------------+-------------------------+----------------+----------------\n| Dear Father       | I beg to remain,        | Faithfully     | Father\n| Duffy:            | Yours faithfully,       | yours.         | Duffy.\n|-------------------+-------------------------+----------------+----------------\n| Dear Dr. Saintly: | Same as above,          | Faithfully     | Dr. (or Mr.)\n| (or Dear Mr.      |                         | yours, or      | Saintly\n| Saintly if he is  |                         | Sincerely      |\n| not a D.D.)       |                         | yours,         |\n|                   |                         |                |\n|                   |                         |                |\n|                   |                         |                |\n+-------------------+-------------------------+----------------+----------------\n| Dear Dr. Wise:    | I beg to remain,        | Yours          | Rabbi Wise.\n|                   | Yours sincerely,        | sincerely,     |\n|                   |                         |                |\n|                   |                         |                |\n+-------------------+-------------------------+----------------+----------------\n| Dear Mr.          | I have the honor to     | Yours          | The\n| Ambassador:       | remain, Yours           | faithfully,    | American\n|                   | faithfully, or, Yours   |                | Ambassador.\n|                   | very truly, or, Yours   |                |\n|                   | respectfully. or very   |                |\n|                   | formally: I have the    |                |\n|                   | honor to remain, sir,   |                |\n|                   | your obedient servant.  |                |\n+-------------------+-------------------------+----------------+----------------\n| Dear Mr.          | Same as above.          | Yours          | Mr. Prince,\n| Minister:         |                         | faithfully,    | the American\n| or  Dear          |                         |                | Minister, or\n| Mr. Prince:       |                         |                | merely, The\n|                   |                         |                | American\n|                   |                         |                | Minister as\n|                   |                         |                | everyone is\n|                   |                         |                | supposed to\n|                   |                         |                | know his name\n|                   |                         |                | or find it\n|                   |                         |                | out.\n|                   |                         |                |\n|                   |                         |                |\n|                   |                         |                |\n|                   |                         |                |\n+-------------------+-------------------------+----------------+----------------\n| Dear Mr. Smith:   | I beg to remain,        | Faithfully,    | Mr. Smith\n|                   | Yours very truly.       |                |\n|                   |                         |                |\n|                   |                         |                |\n|                   |                         |                |\n|                   |                         |                |\n|                   |                         |                |\n|                   |                         |                |\n|                   |                         |                |\n|                   |                         |                |\n|                   |                         |                |\n|                   |                         |                |\n|                   |                         |                |\n+===================+=========================+================+================\n\n[Footnote B: Although our Ambassadors and Ministers represent the United\nStates of America, it is customary both in Europe and Asia to omit the\nwords United States and write to and speak of the American Embassy and\nLegation. In addressing a letter to one of our representatives in\ncountries of the Western Hemisphere, \"The United States of America\" is\nalways specified by way of courtesy to the Americans of South America.]\n\n\n\nForeign persons of title are not included in the foregoing diagram because\nan American (unless in the Diplomatic Service) would be unlikely to\naddress any but personal friends, to whom he would write as to any others.\nAn envelope would be addressed in the language of the person written to:\n\"His Grace, the Duke of Overthere (or merely The Duke of Overthere), Hyde\nPark, London\"; \"Mme. la Princess d'Acacia, Ave. du Bois, Paris\"; \"Il\nPrincipe di Capri, Cusano sul Seveso\"; \"Lady Alwin, Cragmere, Scotland,\"\netc. The letter would begin, Dear Duke of Overthere (or Dear Duke), Dear\nPrincess, Dear Countess Aix, Dear Lady Alwin, Dear Sir Hubert, etc., and\nclose, \"Sincerely,\" \"Faithfully,\" or \"Affectionately,\" as the case might\nbe.\n\nShould an American have occasion to write to Royalty he would begin:\n\"Madam\" (or Sir), and end: \"I have the honor to remain, madam (or Sir),\nyour most obedient.\" (\"Your most obedient servant\" is a signature reserved\nusually for our own President--or Vice-President.)\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVIII\n\nLONGER LETTERS\n\n\nThe art of general letter-writing in the present day is shrinking until\nthe letter threatens to become a telegram, a telephone message, a\npost-card. Since the events of the day are transmitted in newspapers with\nfar greater accuracy, detail, and dispatch than they could be by the\nsingle effort of even Voltaire himself, the circulation of general news,\nwhich formed the chief reason for letters of the stage-coach and\nsailing-vessel days, has no part in the correspondence of to-day.\n\nTaking the contents of an average mail bag as sorted in a United States\npost-office, about fifty per cent. is probably advertisement or appeal,\nforty per cent. business, and scarcely ten per cent. personal letters and\ninvitations. Of course, love letters are probably as numerous as need be,\nthough the long distance telephone must have lowered the average of these,\ntoo. Young girls write to each other, no doubt, much as they did in olden\ntimes, and letters between young girls and young men flourish to-day like\nunpulled weeds in a garden where weeds were formerly never allowed to\ngrow.\n\nIt is the letter from the friend in this city to the friend in that, or\nfrom the traveling relative to the relative at home, that is gradually\ndwindling. As for the letter which younger relatives dutifully used to\nwrite--it has gone already with old-fashioned grace of speech and\ndeportment.\n\nStill, people do write letters in this day and there are some who possess\nthe divinely flexible gift for a fresh turn of phrase, for delightful\nkeenness of observation. It may be, too, that in other days the average\nwriting was no better than the average of to-day. It is naturally the\nletters of those who had unusual gifts which have been preserved all\nthese years, for the failures of a generation are made to die with it, and\nonly its successes survive.\n\nThe difference though, between letter-writers of the past and of the\npresent, is that in other days they all tried to write, and to express\nthemselves the very best they knew how--to-day people don't care a bit\nwhether they write well or ill. Mental effort is one thing that the\nyounger generation of the \"smart world\" seems to consider it unreasonable\nto ask--and just as it is the fashion to let their spines droop until they\nsuggest nothing so much as Tenniel's drawing in Alice in Wonderland of the\ncaterpillar sitting on the toad-stool--so do they let their mental\nfaculties relax, slump and atrophy.\n\nTo such as these, to whom effort is an insurmountable task, it might be\njust as well to say frankly: If you have a mind that is entirely bromidic,\nif you are lacking in humor, all power of observation, and facility for\nexpression, you had best join the ever-growing class of people who frankly\nconfess, \"I can't write letters to save my life!\" and confine your\nliterary efforts to picture post-cards with the engaging captions \"X is my\nroom,\" or \"Beautiful weather, wish you were here.\"\n\nIt is not at all certain that your friends and family would not rather\nhave frequent post-cards than occasional letters all too obviously\ndisplaying the meagerness of their messages in halting orthography.\n\n\n=BEGINNING A LETTER=\n\nFor most people the difficulty in letter-writing is in the beginning and\nthe close. Once they are started, the middle goes smoothly enough, until\nthey face the difficulty of the end. The direction of the Professor of\nEnglish to \"Begin at the beginning of what you have to say, and go on\nuntil you have finished, and then stop,\" is very like a celebrated\nartist's direction for painting: \"You simply take a little of the right\ncolor paint and put it on the right spot.\"\n\n\n=HOW NOT TO BEGIN=\n\nEven one who \"loves the very sight of your handwriting,\" could not\npossibly find any pleasure in a letter beginning:\n\n    \"I have been meaning to write you for a long time but haven't had\n    a minute to spare.\"\n\nOr:\n\n    \"I suppose you have been thinking me very neglectful, but you\n    know how I hate to write letters.\"\n\nOr:\n\n    \"I know I ought to have answered your letter sooner, but I\n    haven't had a thing to write about.\"\n\nThe above sentences are written time and again by persons who are utterly\nunconscious that they are not expressing a friendly or loving thought. If\none of your friends were to walk into the room, and you were to receive\nhim stretched out and yawning in an easy chair, no one would have to point\nout the rudeness of such behavior; yet countless kindly intentioned people\nbegin their letters mentally reclining and yawning in just such a way.\n\n\n=HOW TO BEGIN A LETTER=\n\nSuppose you merely change the wording of the above sentences, so that\ninstead of slamming the door in your friend's face, you hold it open:\n\n    \"Do you think I have forgotten you entirely? You don't know, dear\n    Mary, how many letters I have written you in thought.\"\n\nOr:\n\n    \"Time and time again I have wanted to write you but each moment\n    that I saved for myself was always interrupted by _something_.\"\n\nOne of the frequent difficulties in beginning a letter is that your answer\nis so long delayed that you begin with an apology, which is always a lame\nduck. But these examples indicate a way in which even an opening apology\nmay be attractive rather than repellent. If you are going to take the\ntrouble to write a letter, you are doing it because you have at least\nremembered some one with friendly regard, or you would not be writing at\nall. You certainly would like to convey the impression that you want to be\nwith your friend in thought for a little while at least--not that she\nthrough some malignant force is holding you to a grindstone and forcing\nyou to the task of making hateful schoolroom pot-hooks for her selfish\ngain.\n\nA perfect letter has always the effect of being a light dipping off of the\ntop of a spring. A poor letter suggests digging into the dried ink at the\nbottom of an ink-well.\n\nIt is easy to begin a letter if it is in answer to one that has just been\nreceived. The news contained in it is fresh and the impulse to reply needs\nno prodding.\n\nNothing can be simpler than to say: \"We were all overjoyed to hear from\nyou this morning,\" or, \"Your letter was the most welcome thing the postman\nhas brought for ages,\" or, \"It was more than good to have news of you this\nmorning,\" or, \"Your letter from Capri brought all the allure of Italy back\nto me,\" or, \"You can't imagine, dear Mary, how glad I was to see an\nenvelope with your writing this morning.\" And then you take up the various\nsubjects in Mary's letter, which should certainly launch you without\ndifficulty upon topics of your own.\n\n\n=ENDING A LETTER=\n\nJust as the beginning of a letter should give the reader an impression of\ngreeting, so should the end express friendly or affectionate leave-taking.\nNothing can be worse than to seem to scratch helplessly around in the air\nfor an idea that will effect your escape.\n\n\"Well, I guess I must stop now,\" \"Well, I must close,\" or, \"You are\nprobably bored with this long epistle, so I had better close.\"\n\nAll of these are as bad as they can be, and suggest the untutored man who\nstands first on one foot and then on the other, running his finger around\nthe brim of his hat, or the country girl twisting the corner of her apron.\n\n\n=HOW TO END A LETTER=\n\nAn intimate letter has no end at all. When you leave the house of a member\nof your family, you don't have to think up an especial sentence in order\nto say good-by.\n\nLeave-taking in a letter is the same:\n\n    \"Good-by, dearest, for to-day.\n                                  Devotedly,\n                                               Kate.\"\n\nOr:\n\n    \"Best love to you all,\n                              Martin.\"\n\nOr:\n\n    \"Will write again in a day or two.\n                                      Lovingly,\n                                               Mary.\"\n\nOr:\n\n    \"Luncheon was announced half a page ago! So good-by, dear Mary,\n    for to-day.\"\n\nThe close of a less intimate letter, like taking leave of a visitor in\nyour drawing-room, is necessarily more ceremonious. And the \"ceremonious\nclose\" presents to most people the greatest difficulty in letter-writing.\n\nIt is really quite simple, if you realize that the aim of the closing\nparagraph is merely to bring in a personal hyphen between the person\nwriting and the person written to.\n\n\"The mountains were beautiful at sunset.\" It is a bad closing sentence\nbecause \"the mountains\" have nothing personal to either of you. But if you\ncan add \"--they reminded me of the time we were in Colorado together,\" or\n\"--how different from our wide prairies at home,\" you have crossed a\nbridge, as it were.\n\nOr:\n\n\"We have had a wonderful trip, but I do miss you all at home, and long to\nhear from you soon again.\"\n\nOr (from one at home):\n\n\"Your closed house makes me very lonely to pass. I do hope you are coming\nback soon.\"\n\nSometimes an ending falls naturally into a sentence that ends with your\nsignature. \"If I could look up now and see you coming into the room, there\nwould be no happier woman in the whole State than\n\n    Your devoted mother.\"\n\n\n=LETTERS NO ONE CARES TO READ=\n\n=LETTERS OF CALAMITY=\n\nFirst and foremost in the category of letters that no one can possibly\nreceive with pleasure might be put the \"letter of calamity,\" the letter of\ngloomy apprehension, the letter filled with petty annoyances. Less\ndisturbing to receive but far from enjoyable are such letters as \"the\nblank,\" the \"meandering,\" the \"letter of the capital I,\" the \"plaintive,\"\nthe \"apologetic.\" There is scarcely any one who has not one or more\nrelatives or friends whose letters belong in one of these classes.\n\nEven in so personal a matter as the letter to an absent member of one's\nimmediate family, it should be borne in mind, not to write _needlessly_ of\nmisfortune or unhappiness. To hear from those we love how ill or unhappy\nthey are, is to have our distress intensified in direct proportion to the\nnumber of miles by which we are separated from them. This last example,\nhowever, has nothing in common with the choosing of calamity and gloom as\na subject of welcome tidings in ordinary correspondence.\n\nThe chronic calamity writers seem to wait until the skies are darkest, and\nthen, rushing to their desk, luxuriate in pouring all their troubles and\nfears of troubles out on paper to their friends.\n\n\n=LETTERS OF GLOOMY APPREHENSION=\n\n\"My little Betty [\"My little\" adds to the pathos much more than saying\nmerely \"Betty\"] has been feeling miserable for several days. I am worried\nto death about her, as there are so many sudden cases of typhoid and\nappendicitis. The doctor says the symptoms are not at all alarming as yet,\nbut doctors see so much of illness and death, they don't seem to\nappreciate what anxiety means to a mother,\" etc.\n\nAnother writes: \"The times seem to be getting worse and worse. I always\nsaid we would have to go through a long night before any chance of\ndaylight. You can mark my words, the night of bad times isn't much more\nthan begun.\"\n\nOr, \"I have scarcely slept for nights, worrying about whether Junior has\npassed his examinations or not.\"\n\n\n=LETTERS OF PETTY MISFORTUNES=\n\nOther perfectly well-meaning friends fancy they are giving pleasure when\nthey write such \"news\" as: \"My cook has been sick for the past ten days,\"\nand follow this with a page or two descriptive of her ailments; or, \"I\nhave a slight cough. I think I must have caught it yesterday when I went\nout in the rain without rubbers\"; or, \"The children have not been doing as\nwell in their lessons this week as last. Johnny's arithmetic marks were\ndreadful and Katie got an E in spelling and an F in geography.\" Her\nhusband and her mother would be interested in the children's weekly\nreports, and her own slight cough, but no one else. How could they be?\n\nIf the writers of all such letters would merely read over what they have\nwritten, and ask themselves if they could find pleasure in receiving\nmessages of like manner and matter, perhaps they might begin to do a\nlittle thinking, and break the habit of cataleptic unthinkingness that\nseemingly descends upon them as soon as they are seated at their desk.\n\n\n=THE BLANK=\n\nThe writer of the \"blank\" letter begins fluently with the date and \"Dear\nMary,\" and then sits and chews his penholder or makes little dots and\nsquares and circles on the blotter-utterly unable to attack the cold,\nforbidding blankness of that first page. Mentally, he seems to say: \"Well,\nhere I am--and now what?\" He has not an idea! He can never find anything\nof sufficient importance to write about. A murder next door, a house\nburned to the ground, a burglary or an elopement could alone furnish\nmaterial; and that, too, would be finished off in a brief sentence stating\nthe bare fact.\n\nA person whose life is a revolving wheel of routine may have really very\nlittle to say, but a letter does not have to be long to be welcome--it can\nbe very good indeed if it has a message that seems to have been spoken.\n\n    Dear Lucy:\n\n    \"Life here is as dull as ever--duller if anything. Just the same\n    old things done in the same old way--not even a fire engine out\n    or a new face in town, but this is to show you that I am thinking\n    of you and longing to hear from you.\"\n\nOr:\n    \"I wish something really exciting would happen so that I might have\n    something with a little thrill in it to write you, but everything goes\n    on and on--if there were any check in its sameness, I think we'd all\n    land in a heap against the edge of the town.\"\n\n\n=THE MEANDERING LETTER=\n\nAs its name implies, the meandering letter is one which dawdles through\ndisconnected subjects, like a trolley car gone down grade off the track,\nthrough fences and fields and flower-beds indiscriminately. \"Mrs. Blake's\ncow died last week, the Governor and his wife were on the Reception\nCommittee; Mary Selfridge went to stay with her aunt in Riverview; I think\nthe new shade called Harding blue is perfectly hideous.\"\n\nAnother that is almost akin to it, runs glibly on, page after page of\nmeaningless repetition and detail. \"I thought at first that I would get a\ngray dress--I think gray is such a pretty color, and I have had so many\nblue dresses. I can't decide this time whether to get blue or gray.\nSometimes I think gray is more becoming to me than blue. I think gray\nlooks well on fair-haired people--I don't know whether you would call my\nhair fair or not? I am certainly not dark, and yet fair hair suggests a\nsort of straw color. Maybe I might be called medium fair. Do you think I\nam light enough to wear gray? Maybe blue would be more serviceable. Gray\ncertainly looks pretty in the spring, it is so clean and fresh looking.\nThere is a lovely French model at Benson's in gray, but I can have it\ncopied for less in blue. Maybe it won't be as pretty though as the gray,\"\netc., etc. By the above method of cud-chewing, any subject, clothes,\npainting the house, children's school, planting a garden, or even the\nweather, need be limited only by the supply of paper and ink.\n\n\n=THE LETTER OF THE \"CAPITAL I\"=\n\nThe letter of the \"capital I\" is a pompous effusion which strives through\npretentiousness to impress its reader with its writer's wealth, position,\nability, or whatever possession or attribute is thought to be rated most\nhighly. None but unfortunate dependents or the cringing in spirit would\nsubject themselves to a second letter of this kind by answering the first.\nThe letter which hints at hoped-for benefits is no worse!\n\n\n=THE LETTER OF CHRONIC APOLOGY=\n\nThe letter written by a person with an apologetic habit of mind, is\ndifferent totally from the sometimes necessary letter of genuine apology.\nThe former is as senseless as it is irritating:\n\n\"It was so good of you to come to my horrid little shanty. [The house and\nthe food she served were both probably better than that of the person she\nis writing to.] I know you had nothing fit to eat, and I know that\neverything was just all wrong! Of course, everything is always so\nbeautifully done at everything you give, I wonder I have the courage to\nask you to dine with me.\"\n\n\n=THE DANGEROUS LETTER=\n\nA pitfall that those of sharp wit have to guard against is the thoughtless\ntendency toward writing ill-natured things. Ridicule is a much more\namusing medium for the display of a subject than praise, which is always\nrather bromidic. The amusing person catches foibles and exploits them, and\nit is easy to forget that wit flashes all too irresistibly at the expense\nof other people's feelings, and the brilliant tongue is all too often\nsharpened to rapier point. Admiration for the quickness of a spoken quip,\nsomewhat mitigates its cruelty. The exuberance of the retailer of verbal\ngossip eliminates the implication of scandals but both quip and gossip\nbecome deadly poison when transferred permanently to paper.\n\n\n=PERMANENCE OF WRITTEN EMOTION=\n\nFor all emotions written words are a bad medium. The light jesting tone\nthat saves a quip from offense can not be expressed; and remarks that if\nspoken would amuse, can but piqu\u00e9 and even insult their subject. Without\nthe interpretation of the voice, gaiety becomes levity, raillery becomes\naccusation. Moreover, words of a passing moment are made to stand forever.\n\nAnger in a letter carries with it the effect of solidified fury; the words\nspoken in reproof melt with the breath of the speaker once the cause is\nforgiven. The written words on the page fix them for eternity.\n\nLove in a letter endures likewise forever.\n\nAdmonitions from parents to their children may very properly be put on\npaper--they are meant to endure, and be remembered, but momentary\nannoyance should never be more than briefly expressed. There is no better\nway of insuring his letters against being read than for a parent to get\ninto the habit of writing irritable or faultfinding letters to his\nchildren.\n\n\n=THE LETTERS OF TWO WIVES=\n\nDo you ever see a man look through a stack of mail, and notice that\nsuddenly his face lights up as he seizes a letter \"from home\"? He tears it\nopen eagerly, his mouth up-curving at the corners, as he lingers over\nevery word. You know, without being told, that the wife he had to leave\nbehind puts all the best she can devise and save for him into his life as\nwell as on paper!\n\nDo you ever see a man go through his mail and see him suddenly droop--as,\nthough a fog had fallen upon his spirits? Do you see him reluctantly pick\nout a letter, start to open it, hesitate and then push it aside? His\nexpression says plainly: \"I can't face that just now.\" Then by and by,\nwhen his lips have been set in a hard line, he will doggedly open his\nletter to \"see what the trouble is now.\"\n\nIf for once there is no trouble, he sighs with relief, relaxes, and starts\nthe next thing he has to do.\n\nUsually, though, he frowns, looks worried, annoyed, harassed, and you know\nthat every small unpleasantness is punctiliously served to him by one who\npromised to love and to cherish and who probably thinks she does!\n\n\n=THE LETTER EVERYONE LOVES TO RECEIVE=\n\nThe letter we all love to receive is one that carries so much of the\nwriter's personality that she seems to be sitting beside us, looking at us\ndirectly and talking just as she really would, could she have come on a\nmagic carpet, instead of sending her proxy in ink-made characters on mere\npaper.\n\nLet us suppose we have received one of those perfect letters from Mary,\none of those letters that seem almost to have written themselves, so\neasily do the words flow, so bubbling and effortless is their spontaneity.\nThere is a great deal in the letter about Mary, not only about what she\nhas been doing, but what she has been thinking, or perhaps, feeling. And\nthere is a lot about us in the letter--nice things, that make us feel\nrather pleased about something that we have done, or are likely to do, or\nthat some one has said about us. We know that all things of concern to us\nare of equal concern to Mary, and though there will be nothing of it in\nactual words, we are made to feel that we are just as secure in our corner\nof Mary's heart as ever we were. And we finish the letter with a very\nvivid remembrance of Mary's sympathy, and a sense of loss in her absence,\nand a longing for the time when Mary herself may again be sitting on the\nsofa beside us and telling us all the details her letter can not but leave\nout.\n\n\n=THE LETTER NO WOMAN SHOULD EVER WRITE=\n\nThe mails carry letters every day that are so many packages of TNT should\ntheir contents be exploded by falling into wrong hands. Letters that\nshould never have been written are put in evidence in court rooms every\nday. Many can not, under any circumstances, be excused; but often silly\ngirls and foolish women write things that sound quite different from what,\nthey innocently, but stupidly, intended.\n\nFew persons, except professional writers, have the least idea of the value\nof words and the effect that they produce, and the thoughtless letters of\nemotional women and underbred men add sensation to news items in the press\nalmost daily.\n\nOf course the best advice to a young girl who is impelled to write letters\nto men, can be put in one word, _don't_!\n\nHowever, if you are a young girl or woman, and are determined to write\nletters to an especial--or any other--man, no matter how innocent your\nintention may be, there are some things you must remember--remember so\nintensely that no situation in life, no circumstances, no temptation, can\never make you forget. They are a few set rules, not of etiquette, but of\nthe laws of self-respect:\n\nNever send a letter without reading it over and making sure that you have\nsaid nothing that can possibly \"sound different\" from what you intend to\nsay.\n\nNever so long as you live, write a letter to a man--no matter who he\nis--that you would be ashamed to see in a newspaper above your signature.\n\nRemember that every word of writing is immutable evidence for or against\nyou, and words which are thoughtlessly put on paper may exist a hundred\nyears hence.\n\nNever write anything that can be construed as sentimental.\n\nNever take a man to task about anything; never ask for explanations; to do\nso implies too great an intimacy.\n\nNever put a single clinging tentacle into writing. Say nothing ever, that\ncan be construed as demanding, asking, or even being eager for, his\nattentions!\n\nAlways keep in mind and _never for one instant forget_ that a third\nperson, and that the very one you would most object to, may find and read\nthe letter.\n\nOne word more: It is not alone \"bad form\" but laying yourself open to\nevery sort of embarrassment and danger, to \"correspond with\" a man you\nslightly know.\n\n\n=PROPER LETTERS OF LOVE OR AFFECTION=\n\nIf you are engaged, of course you should write love letters--the most\nbeautiful that you can--but don't write baby-talk and other sillinesses\nthat would make you feel idiotic if the letter were to fall into strange\nhands.\n\nOn the other hand, few can find objection to the natural, friendly and\neven affectionate letter from a young girl to a young man she has been\n\"brought up\" with. It is such a letter as she would write to her brother.\nThere is no hint of coquetry or self-consciousness, no word from first to\nlast that might not be shouted aloud before her whole family. Her letter\nmay begin \"Dear\" or even \"Dearest Jack.\" Then follows all the \"home news\"\nshe can think of that might possibly interest him; about the Simpsons'\ndance, Tom and Pauline's engagement, how many trout Bill Henderson got at\nDuck Brook, how furious Mrs. Davis was because some distinguished visitor\naccepted Mrs. Brown's dinner instead of hers, how the new people who have\nmoved onto the Rush farm don't know the first thing about farming, and so\non.\n\nPerhaps there will be one \"personal\" line such as \"we all missed you at\nthe picnic on Wednesday--Ollie made the flap-jacks and they were too\nawful! Every one groaned: 'If Jack were only here!'\" Or, \"we all hope you\nare coming back in time for the Towns' dance. Kate has at last inveigled\nher mother into letting her have an all-black dress which we rather\nsuspect was bought with the especial purpose of impressing you with her\nadvanced age and dignity! Mother came in just as I wrote this and says to\ntell you she has a new recipe for chocolate cake that is even better than\nher old one, and that you had better have a piece added to your belt\nbefore you come home. Carrie will write you very soon, she says, and we\nall send love.\n\n    \"Affectionately,\n    \"Ruth.\"\n\n\n=THE LETTER NO GENTLEMAN WRITES=\n\nOne of the fundamental rules for the behavior of any man who has the\nfaintest pretension to being a gentleman, is that never by word or gesture\nmust he compromise a woman; he never, therefore, writes a letter that can\nbe construed, even by a lawyer, as damaging to any woman's good name.\n\nHis letters to an unmarried woman may express all the ardor and devotion\nthat he cares to subscribe to, but there must be no hint of his having\nreceived especial favors from her.\n\n\n=DON'TS FOR CORRESPONDENCE=\n\nNever typewrite an invitation, acceptance, or regret.\n\nNever typewrite a social note.\n\nBe chary of underscorings and postscripts.\n\nDo not write across a page already written on.\n\nDo not use unmatched paper and envelopes.\n\nDo not write in pencil--except a note to one of your family written on a\ntrain or where ink is unprocurable, or unless you are flat on your back\nbecause of illness.\n\nNever send a letter with a blot on it.\n\nNever sprinkle French, Italian, or any other foreign words through a\nletter written in English. You do not give an impression of cultivation,\nbut of ignorance of your own language. Use a foreign word if it has no\nEnglish equivalent, not otherwise unless it has become Anglicized. If\nhesitating between two words, always select the one of Saxon origin rather\nthan Latin. For the best selection of words to use, study the King James\nversion of the Bible.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIX\n\nTHE FUNDAMENTALS OF GOOD BEHAVIOR\n\n\nFar more important than any mere dictum of etiquette is the fundamental\ncode of honor, without strict observance of which no man, no matter how\n\"polished,\" can be considered a gentleman. The honor of a gentleman\ndemands the inviolability of his word, and the incorruptibility of his\nprinciples; he is the descendant of the knight, the crusader; he is the\ndefender of the defenseless, and the champion of justice--or he is not a\ngentleman.\n\n\n=DECENCIES OF BEHAVIOR=\n\nA gentleman does not, and a man who aspires to be one must not, ever\nborrow money from a woman, nor should he, except in unexpected\ncircumstances, borrow money from a man. Money borrowed without security is\na debt of honor which must be paid without fail and promptly as possible.\nThe debts incurred by a deceased parent, brother, sister, or grown child,\nare assumed by honorable men and women, as debts of honor.\n\nA gentleman never takes advantage of a woman in a business dealing, nor of\nthe poor or the helpless.\n\nOne who is not well off does not \"sponge,\" but pays his own way to the\nutmost of his ability.\n\nOne who is rich does not make a display of his money or his possessions.\nOnly a vulgarian talks ceaselessly about how much this or that cost him.\n\nA very well-bred man intensely dislikes the mention of money, and never\nspeaks of it (out of business hours) if he can avoid it.\n\nA gentleman never discusses his family affairs either in public or with\nacquaintances, nor does he speak more than casually about his wife. A man\nis a cad who tells anyone, no matter who, what his wife told him in\nconfidence, or describes what she looks like in her bedroom. To impart\ndetails of her beauty is scarcely better than to publish her blemishes; to\ndo either is unspeakable.\n\nNor does a gentleman ever criticise the behavior of a wife whose conduct\nis scandalous. What he says to her in the privacy of their own apartments\nis no one's affair but his own, but he must never treat her with\ndisrespect before their children, or a servant, or any one.\n\nA man of honor never seeks publicly to divorce his wife, no matter what he\nbelieves her conduct to have been; but for the protection of his own name,\nand that of the children, he allows her to get her freedom on other than\ncriminal grounds. No matter who he may be, whether rich, or poor, in high\nlife or low, the man who publicly besmirches his wife's name, besmirches\nstill more his own, and proves that he is not, was not, and never will be,\na gentleman.\n\nNo gentleman goes to a lady's house if he is affected by alcohol. A\ngentleman seeing a young man who is not entirely himself in the presence\nof ladies, quietly induces the youth to depart. An older man addicted to\nthe use of too much alcohol, need not be discussed, since he ceases to be\nasked to the houses of ladies.\n\nA gentleman does not lose control of his temper. In fact, in his own\nself-control under difficult or dangerous circumstances, lies his chief\nascendancy over others who impulsively betray every emotion which animates\nthem. Exhibitions of anger, fear, hatred, embarrassment, ardor or\nhilarity, are all bad form in public. And bad form is merely an action\nwhich \"jars\" the sensibilities of others. A gentleman does not show a\nletter written by a lady, unless perhaps to a very intimate friend if the\nletter is entirely impersonal and written by some one who is equally the\nfriend of the one to whom it is shown. But the occasions when the letter\nof a woman may be shown properly by a man are so few that it is safest to\nmake it a rule never to mention a woman's letter.\n\nA gentleman does not bow to a lady from a club window; nor according to\ngood form should ladies ever be discussed in a man's club!\n\nA man whose social position is self-made is apt to be detected by his\ncontinual cataloguing of prominent names. Mr. Parvenu invariably\ninterlards his conversation with, \"When I was dining at the Bobo\nGilding's\"; or even \"at Lucy Gilding's,\" and quite often accentuates, in\nhis ignorance, those of rather second-rate, though conspicuous position.\n\"I was spending last week-end with the Richan Vulgars,\" or \"My great\nfriends, the Gotta Crusts.\" When a so-called gentleman insists on\nimparting information, interesting only to the Social Register, _shun\nhim_!\n\nThe born gentleman avoids the mention of names exactly as he avoids the\nmention of what things cost; both are an abomination to his soul.\n\nA gentleman's manners are an integral part of him and are the same whether\nin his dressing-room or in a ballroom, whether in talking to Mrs. Worldly\nor to the laundress bringing in his clothes. He whose manners are only put\non in company is a veneered gentleman, not a real one.\n\nA man of breeding does not slap strangers on the back nor so much as lay\nhis finger-tips on a lady. Nor does he punctuate his conversation by\npushing or nudging or patting people, nor take his conversation out of the\ndrawing-room! Notwithstanding the advertisements in the most dignified\nmagazines, a discussion of underwear and toilet articles and their merit\nor their use, is unpleasant in polite conversation.\n\nAll thoroughbred people are considerate of the feelings of others no\nmatter what the station of the others may be. Thackeray's climber who\n\"licks the boots of those above him and kicks the faces of those below him\non the social ladder,\" is a, very good illustration of what a gentleman is\nnot.\n\nA gentleman never takes advantage of another's helplessness or ignorance,\nand assumes that no gentleman will take advantage of him.\n\n\n=SIMPLICITY AND UNCONSCIOUSNESS OF SELF=\n\nThese words have been literally sprinkled through the pages of this book,\nyet it is doubtful if they convey a clear idea of the attributes meant.\n\nUnconsciousness of self is not so much unselfishness as it is the mental\nability to extinguish all thought of one's self--exactly as one turns out\nthe light.\n\nSimplicity is like it, in that it also has a quality of self-effacement,\nbut it really means a love of the essential and of directness. Simple\npeople put no trimmings on their phrases, nor on their manners; but\nremember, simplicity is not crudeness nor anything like it. On the\ncontrary, simplicity of speech and manners means language in its purest,\nmost limpid form, and manners of such perfection that they do not suggest\n\"manner\" at all.\n\n\n=THE INSTINCTS OF A LADY=\n\nThe instincts of a lady are much the same as those of a gentleman. She is\nequally punctilious about her debts, equally averse to pressing her\nadvantage; especially if her adversary is helpless or poor.\n\nAs an unhappy wife, her dignity demands that she never show her\ndisapproval of her husband, no matter how publicly he slights or outrages\nher. If she has been so unfortunate as to have married a man not a\ngentleman, to draw attention to his behavior would put herself on his\nlevel. If it comes actually to the point where she divorces him, she\ndiscusses her situation, naturally, with her parents or her brother or\nwhoever are her nearest and wisest relatives, but she shuns publicity and\navoids discussing her affairs with any one outside of her immediate\nfamily. One can not too strongly censure the unspeakable vulgarity of the\nwoman so unfortunate as to be obliged to go through divorce proceedings,\nwho confides the private details of her life to reporters.\n\n\n=THE HALL-MARK OF THE CLIMBER=\n\nNothing so blatantly proclaims a woman climber as the repetition of\nprominent names, the owners of which she must have struggled to know.\nOtherwise, why so eagerly boast of the achievement? Nobody cares whom she\nknows--nobody that is, but a climber like herself. To those who were born\nand who live, no matter how quietly, in the security of a perfectly good\nledge above and away from the social ladder's rungs, the evidence of one\nfrantically climbing and trying to vaunt her exalted position is merely\nludicrous.\n\nAll thoroughbred women, and men, are considerate of others less\nfortunately placed, especially of those in their employ. One of the tests\nby which to distinguish between the woman of breeding and the woman merely\nof wealth, is to notice the way she speaks to dependents. Queen Victoria's\nduchesses, those great ladies of grand manner, were the very ones who, on\nentering the house of a close friend, said \"How do you do, Hawkins?\" to a\nbutler; and to a sister duchess's maid, \"Good morning, Jenkins.\" A\nMaryland lady, still living on the estate granted to her family three\ngenerations before the Revolution, is quite as polite to her friends'\nservants as to her friends themselves. When you see a woman in silks and\nsables and diamonds speak to a little errand girl or a footman or a\nscullery maid as though they were the dirt under her feet, you may be sure\nof one thing; she hasn't come a very long way from the ground herself.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXX\n\nCLUBS AND CLUB ETIQUETTE\n\n\nA club, as every one knows, is merely an organization of people--men or\nwomen or both--who establish club rooms, in which they meet at specified\ntimes for specified purposes, or which they use casually and individually.\nA club's membership may be limited to a dozen or may include several\nthousands, and the procedure in joining a club may be easy or difficult,\naccording to the type of club and the standing of the would-be member.\n\nMembership in many athletic associations may be had by walking in and\npaying dues; also many country golf-clubs are as free to the public as\ncountry inns; but joining a purely social club of rank and exclusiveness\nis a very different matter. A man to be eligible for membership in such a\nclub must not only be completely a gentleman, but he must have friends\namong the members who like him enough to be willing to propose him and\nsecond him and write letters for him; and furthermore he must be disliked\nby no one--at least not sufficiently for any member to object seriously to\nhis company.\n\nThere are two ways of joining a club; by invitation and by making\napplication or having it made for you. To join by invitation means that\nyou are invited when the club is started to be one of the founders or\ncharter members, or if you are a distinguished citizen you may at the\ninvitation of the governors become an honorary member, or in a small or\ninformal club you may become an ordinary member by invitation or\nsuggestion of the governors that you would be welcome. A charter member\npays dues, but not always an initiation fee; an honorary member pays\nneither dues nor initiation, he is really a permanent guest of the club. A\nlife member is one who pays his dues for twenty years or so in a lump sum,\nand is exempted from dues even if he lives to be a hundred. Few clubs\nhave honorary members and none have more than half a dozen, so that this\ntype of membership may as well be disregarded.\n\nThe ordinary members of a club are either resident, meaning that they live\nwithin fifty miles of the club; or non-resident, living beyond that\ndistance and paying less dues but having the same privileges.\n\nIn certain of the London clubs, one or two New York ones, and the leading\nclub in several other cities, it is not unusual for a boy's name to be put\nup for membership as soon as he is born. If his name comes up while he is\na minor, it is laid aside until after his twenty-first birthday and then\nput at the head of the list of applicants and voted upon at the next\nmeeting of the governors.\n\nIn all clubs in which membership is limited and much sought after, the\nwaiting list is sure to be long and a name takes anywhere from five to\nmore than ten years to come up.\n\n\n=HOW A NAME IS \"PUT UP\"=\n\nSince a gentleman is scarcely likely to want to join a club in which the\nmembers are not his friends, he tells a member of his family, or an\nintimate friend, that he would like to join the Nearby Club, and adds, \"Do\nyou mind putting me up? I will ask Dick to second me.\" The friend says,\n\"I'll be very glad to,\" and Dick says the same. It is still more likely\nthat the suggestion to join comes from a friend, who says one day, \"Why\ndon't you join the Nearby Club? It would be very convenient for you.\" The\nother says, \"I think I should like to,\" and the first replies, \"Let me put\nyou up, and Dick will be only too glad to second you.\"\n\nIt must be remembered that a gentleman has no right to ask any one who is\nnot really one of his best friends to propose or second him. It is an\nawkward thing to refuse in the first place, and in the second it involves\nconsiderable effort, and on occasion a great deal of annoyance and\ntrouble.\n\nFor example let us suppose that Jim Smartlington asks Donald Lovejoy to\npropose him and Clubwin Doe to second him. His name is written in the book\nkept for the purpose and signed by both proposer and seconder:\n\n    Smartlington, James\n              Proposer: Donald Lovejoy\n              Seconder: Clubwin Doe\n\nNothing more is done until the name is posted--meaning that it appears\namong a list of names put up on the bulletin-board in the club house. It\nis then the duty of Lovejoy and Doe each to write a letter of endorsement\nto the governors of the club, to be read by them when they hold the\nmeeting at which his name comes up for election.\n\nExample:\n\n    Board of Governors,\n    The Nearby Club.\n\n    Dear sirs:\n\n    It affords me much pleasure to propose for membership in the\n    Nearby Club Mr. James Smartlington. I have known Mr. Smartlington\n    for many years and consider him qualified in every way for\n    membership.\n\n    He is a graduate of Yalvard, class 1916, rowed on the Varsity\n    crew, and served in the 180th, as 1st Lieut., overseas during the\n    war. He is now in his father's firm (Jones, Smartlington & Co.).\n\n    Yours very truly,\n            Donald Lovejoy.\n\nLovejoy must also at once tell Smartlington to ask about six friends who\nare club-members (but not governors) to write letters endorsing him.\nFurthermore, the candidate can not come up for election unless he knows\nseveral of the governors personally, who can vouch for him at the\nmeeting. Therefore Lovejoy and Doe must one or the other take Smartlington\nto several governors (at their offices generally) and personally present\nhim, or very likely they invite two or three of the governors and\nSmartlington to lunch.\n\nEven under the best of circumstances it is a nuisance for a busy man to\nhave to make appointments at the offices of other busy men. And since it\nis uncertain which of the governors will be present at any particular\nmeeting, it is necessary to introduce the candidate to a sufficient number\nso that at least two among those at the meeting will be able to speak for\nhim.\n\nIn the example we have chosen, Clubwin Doe, having himself been a governor\nand knowing most of the present ones very well, has less difficulty in\npresenting his candidate to them than many other members might have, who,\nthough they have for years belonged to the club, have used it so seldom\nthat they know few, if any, of the governors even by sight.\n\nAt the leading woman's club of New York, the governors appoint an hour on\nseveral afternoons before elections when they are in the visitors' rooms\nat the club house on purpose to meet the candidates whom their proposers\nmust present. This would certainly seem a more practicable method, to say\nnothing of its being easier for everyone concerned, than the masculine\netiquette which requires that the governors be stalked one by one, to the\nextreme inconvenience and loss of time and occasionally the embarrassment\nof every one.\n\nAs already said, Jim Smartlington, having unusually popular and well-known\nsponsors and being also very well liked himself, is elected with little\ndifficulty.\n\nBut take the case of young Breezy: He was put up by two not well-known\nmembers, who wrote half-hearted endorsements themselves and did nothing\nabout getting letters from others; they knew none of the governors, and\ntrusted that two who knew Breezy slightly \"would do.\" His casual proposer\nforgot that enemies write letters as well as friends--and that moreover\nenmity is active where friendship is often passive. Two men who disliked\nhis \"manner\" wrote that they considered him \"unsuitable,\" and as he had\nno friends strong enough to stand up for him, he was turned down. A\ngentleman is rarely \"black-balled,\" as such an action could not fail to\ninjure him in the eyes of the world. (The expression \"black ball\" comes\nfrom the custom of voting for a member by putting a white ball in a ballot\nbox, or against him by putting in a black one.) If a candidate is likely\nto receive a black ball, the governors do not vote on him at all, but\ninform the proposer that the name of his candidate would better be\nwithdrawn. Later on, if the objection to him is disproved or overcome, his\nname can again be put up.\n\nThe more popular the candidate, the less work there is for his proposer\nand seconder. A stranger--if he is not a member of the representative club\nin his own city--would have need of strong friends to elect him to an\nexclusive one in another, and an unpopular man has no chance at all.\n\nHowever, in all except very rare instances events run smoothly; the\ncandidate is voted on at a meeting of the board of governors and is\nelected.\n\nA notice is mailed to him next morning, telling him that he has been\nelected and that his initiation fee and his dues make a total of so much.\nThe candidate thereupon at once draws his check for the amount and mails\nit. As soon as the secretary has had ample time to receive the check, the\nnew member is free to use the club as much or as little as he cares to.\n\n\n=THE NEW MEMBER=\n\nThe new member usually, but not necessarily, goes for the first time to a\nclub with his proposer or his seconder, or at least an old member; for\nsince in exclusive clubs visitors living in the same city are never given\nthe privilege of the club, none but members can know their way about. Let\nus say he goes for lunch or dinner, at which he is host, and his friend\nimparts such unwritten information as: \"That chair in the window is where\nold Gotrox always sits; don't occupy it when you see him coming in or he\nwill be disagreeable to everybody for a week.\" Or \"They always play double\nstakes at this table, so don't sit at it, unless you _mean_ to.\" Or\n\"That's Double coming in now, avoid him at bridge as you would the\nplague.\" \"The roasts are always good and that waiter is the best in the\nroom,\" etc.\n\nA new member is given--or should ask for--a copy of the Club Book, which\ncontains besides the list of the members, the constitution and the by-laws\nor \"house rules,\" which he must study carefully and be sure to obey.\n\n\n=COUNTRY CLUBS=\n\nCountry clubs are as a rule less exclusive and less expensive than the\nrepresentative city clubs, but those like the Myopia Hunt, the Tuxedo, the\nSaddle and Cycle, the Burlingame, and countless others in between, are\nmany of them more expensive to belong to than any clubs in London or New\nYork, and are precisely the same in matters of membership and management.\nThey are also quite as difficult to be elected to as any of the exclusive\nclubs in the cities--more so if anything, because they are open to the\nfamily and friends of every member, whereas in a man's club in a city his\nmembership gives the privilege of the club to no one but himself\npersonally. The test question always put by the governors at elections is:\n\"Are the candidate's friends as well as his family likely to be agreeable\nto the present members of the Club?\" If not, he is not admitted.\n\nNearly all country clubs have, however, one open door--unknown to city\nones. People taking houses in the neighborhood are often granted \"season\nprivileges\"; meaning that on being proposed by a member and upon paying a\nseason subscription, new householders are accepted as transient guests. In\nsome clubs this season subscription may be indefinitely renewed; in others\na man must come up for regular election at the end of three months or six\nor a year.\n\nApart from what may be called the few representative and exclusive country\nclubs, there are hundreds--more likely thousands--which have very simple\nrequirements for membership. The mere form of having one or two members\nvouch for a candidate's integrity and good behavior is sufficient.\n\nGolf clubs, hunting clubs, political or sports clubs have special\nmembership qualifications; all good golf players are as a rule welcomed at\nall golf clubs; all huntsmen at hunting clubs, and yet the Myopia would\nnot think of admitting the best rider ever known if he was not\nunquestionably a gentleman. But this is unusual. As a rule, the great\nplayer is welcomed in any club specially devoted to the sport in which he\nexcels.\n\nIn many clubs a stranger may be given a three (sometimes it is six)\nmonths' transient membership, available in some instances to foreigners\nonly; in others to strangers living beyond a certain distance. A name is\nproposed and seconded by two members and then voted on by the governors,\nor the house committee.\n\nThe best known and most distinguished club of New England has an \"Annex\"\nin which there are dining-rooms to which ladies as well as gentlemen who\nare not members are admitted, and this annex plan has since been followed\nby others elsewhere.\n\nAll men's clubs have private dining-rooms in which members can give stag\ndinners, but the representative men's clubs exclude ladies absolutely from\never crossing their thresholds.\n\n\n=WOMEN'S CLUBS=\n\nExcepting that the luxurious women's club has an atmosphere that a man\nrarely knows how to give to the interior of a house, no matter how\narchitecturally perfect it may be, there is no difference between women's\nand men's clubs.\n\nIn every State of the Union there are women's clubs of every kind and\ngrade; social, political, sports, professional; some housed in enormous\nand perfect buildings constructed for them, and some perhaps in only a\nroom or two.\n\nWhen the pioneer women's club of New York was started, a club that aspired\nto be in the same class as the most important men's club, various\ngovernors of the latter were unflatteringly outspoken; women could not\npossibly run a club as it should be run--it was unthinkable that they\nshould be foolish enough to attempt it! And the husbands and fathers of\nthe founders expected to have to dig down in their pockets to make up the\ndeficit; forgetting entirely that the running of a club is merely the\nrunning of a house on a large scale, and that women, not men, are the\nperfect housekeepers. To-day, no clubs anywhere are more perfect in\nappointment or better run than the representative women's clubs. In fact,\nsome of the men's clubs have been forced to follow the lead of the\nforemost of them and to realize that a club in which members merely sit\nabout and look out of the window is a pretty dull place to the type of\nyounger members they most want to attract, and that the combination of the\ncomfort and smartness of a perfectly run private house with every\nequipment for athletics, is becoming the ideal in club-life and\nclub-building to-day.\n\n\n=GOOD MANNERS IN CLUBS=\n\nGood manners in clubs are the same as good manners elsewhere--only a\nlittle more so. A club is for the pleasure and convenience of many; it is\nnever intended as a stage-setting for a \"star\" or \"clown\" or \"monologist.\"\nThere is no place where a person has greater need of restraint and\nconsideration for the reserves of others than in a club. In every club\nthere is a reading-room or library where conversation is not allowed;\nthere are books and easy chairs and good light for reading both by day and\nnight; and it is one of the unbreakable rules not to speak to anybody who\nis reading--or writing.\n\nWhen two people are sitting by themselves and talking, another should on\nno account join them unless he is an intimate friend of both. To be a mere\nacquaintance, or, still less, to have been introduced to one of them,\ngives no privilege whatever.\n\nThe fact of being a club member does not (except in a certain few\nespecially informal clubs) grant any one the right to speak to strangers.\nIf a new member happens to find no one in the club whom he knows, he goes\nabout his own affairs. He either sits down and reads or writes, or \"looks\nout of the window,\" or plays solitaire, or occupies himself as he would if\nhe were alone in a hotel.\n\nIt is courteous of a governor or habitual member, on noticing a new member\nor a visitor, especially one who seems to be rather at a loss--to go up\nand speak to him, but the latter must on no account be the one to speak\nfirst. Certain New York and Boston clubs, as well as those of London, have\nearned a reputation for snobbishness because the members never speak to\nthose they do not know. Through no intent to be disagreeable, but just\nbecause it is not customary, New York people do not speak to those they do\nnot know, and it does not occur to them that strangers feel slighted until\nthey themselves are given the same medicine in London; or going elsewhere\nin America, they appreciate the courtesy and kindness of the South and\nWest.\n\nThe fundamental rule for behavior in a club is the same as in the\ndrawing-room of a private house. In other words, heels have no place on\nfurniture, ashes belong in ash-receivers, books should not be abused, and\nall evidence of exercising should be confined to the courts or courses and\nthe locker room. Many people who wouldn't think of lolling around the\nhouse in unfit attire, come trooping into country clubs with their\nsteaming faces, clammy shirts, and rumpled hair, giving too awful evidence\nof recent exertion, and present fitness for the bathtub.\n\n\n=THE PERFECT CLUBMAN=\n\nThe perfect clubman is another word for the perfect gentleman. He never\nallows himself to show irritability to any one, he makes it a point to be\ncourteous to a new member or an old member's guest. He scrupulously\nobserves the rules of the club, he discharges his card debts at the\ntable, he pays his share always, with an instinctive horror of sponging,\nand lastly, he treats everyone with the same consideration which he\nexpects--and demands--from them.\n\n\n=THE INFORMAL CLUB=\n\nThe informal club is often more suggestive of a fraternity than a club, in\nthat every member speaks to every other--always. In one of the best known\nof this type, the members are artists, authors, scientists, sportsmen and\nother thinkers and doers. There is a long table set every day for lunch at\nwhich the members gather and talk, every one to every one else. There is\nanother dining-room where solitary members may sit by themselves or bring\nin outsiders if they care to. None but members sit at the \"round\" table\nwhich isn't \"round\" in the least!\n\nThe informal club is always a comparatively small one, but the method of\nelecting members varies. In some, it is customary to take the vote of the\nwhole club, in others members are elected by the governors first, and then\nasked to join. In this case no man may ask to have his name put up. In\nothers the conventional methods are followed.\n\n\n=THE VISITORS IN A CLUB=\n\nIn every club in the United States a member is allowed to \"introduce\" a\nstranger (living at least fifty miles away) for a length of time varying\nwith the by-laws of the club. In some clubs guests may be put up for a day\nonly, in others the privilege extends for two weeks or more.\n\nMany clubs allow each member a certain number of visitors a year; in\nothers visitors are unlimited. But in all city clubs the same guest can\nnot be introduced twice within the year. In country clubs visitors may\nalways be brought in by members in unlimited numbers.\n\nAs a rule when a member introduces a stranger, he takes him to the club\npersonally, writes his name in the visitors' book, and introduces him to\nthose who may be in the room at the time--very possibly asking another\nmember whom he knows particularly well to \"look out\" for his guest. If for\nsome reason it is not possible for the stranger's host to take him to the\nclub, he writes to the secretary of the club for a card of introduction.\n\nExample:\n\n\n    Secretary,\n    The Town Club.\n\n    Dear Sir:\n\n    Kindly send Mr. A.M. Strangleigh a card extending the privileges\n    of the Club for one week.\n\n    Mr. Strangleigh is a resident of London.\n\n    Yours very truly,\n    Clubwin Doe.\n\n\nThe secretary then sends a card to Mr. Strangleigh:\n\n      The Town Club\n\n    Extends its privileges to\n\n      Mr. [HW: Strangleigh]\n\n    from [HW: Jan. 7.] to [HW: Jan. 14.]\n\n    Through the courtesy of\n\n    Mr. [HW: Clubwin Doe]\n\nMr. Strangleigh goes to the club by himself. A visitor who has been given\nthe privileges of the club has, during the time of his visit, all the\nrights of a member excepting that he is not allowed to introduce others to\nthe club, and he can not give a dinner in the private dining-room. Strict\netiquette also demands, if he wishes to ask several members to dine with\nhim, that he take them to a restaurant rather than into the club\ndining-room, since the club is their home and he is a stranger in it. He\nmay ask a member whom he knows well to lunch with him in the club rooms,\nbut he must not ask one whom he knows only slightly. As accounts are sent\nto the member who put him up--unless the guest arranges at the club's\noffice to have his charges rendered to himself, he must be punctilious to\nask for his bill upon leaving, and pay it _without question_.\n\nPutting a man up at a club never means that the member is \"host.\" The\nvisitor's status throughout his stay is founded on the courtesy of the\nmember who introduced him, and he should try to show an equal courtesy to\nevery one about him. He should remember not to obtrude on the privacy of\nthe members he does not know. He has no right to criticise the management,\nthe rules or the organization of the club. He has, in short, no actual\nrights at all, and he must not forget that he hasn't!\n\n\n=CLUB ETIQUETTE IN LONDON, PARIS AND NEW YORK=\n\n\"In a very smart London club\" (the words quoted are Clubwin Doe's) \"you\nkeep your hat on and glare about! In Paris you take your hat off and\nbehave with such courtesy and politeness as seems to you an affectation.\nIn New York you take your hat off and behave as though the rooms were\nempty; but as though you were being observed through loop-holes in the\nwalls.\"\n\nIn New York you are introduced occasionally, but you may never ask to be\nintroduced, and you speak only to those you have been introduced to. In\nLondon, you are never introduced to any one, but if the member who has\ntaken you with him joins a group and you all sit down together, you talk\nas you would after dinner in a gentleman's house. But if you are made a\ntemporary member and meet those you have been talking to when you are\nalone the next day, you do not speak unless spoken to. In Paris, your host\npunctiliously introduces you to various members and you must just as\npunctiliously go the next day to their houses and leave your card upon\neach one! This is customary in the strictly French clubs only. In any one\nwhich has members of other nationalities--especially with Americans\npredominating, or seeming to, American customs obtain. In French clubs a\nvisitor can not go to the club unless he is with a member, but there are\nno restrictions on the number of times he may be taken by the same member\nor another one.\n\n\n=UNBREAKABLE RULES=\n\nFailure to pay one's debts, or behavior unbefitting a gentleman, is cause\nfor expulsion from every club; which is looked upon in much the same light\nas expulsion from the Army. In certain cases expulsion for debt may seem\nunfair, since one may find himself in unexpectedly straitened\ncircumstances, and the greatest fault or crime could not be more severely\ndealt with than being expelled from his club; but \"club honor\"--except\nunder very temporary and mitigating conditions--takes no account of any\nreason for being \"unable\" to meet his obligations. He _must_--or he is not\nconsidered honorable.\n\nIf a man can not afford to belong to a club he must resign while he is\nstill \"in good standing.\" If later on he is able to rejoin, his name is\nput at the head of the waiting list, and if he was considered a desirable\nmember, he is re-elected at the next meeting of the governors. But a man\nwho has been expelled (unless he can show cause why his expulsion was\nunjust and be re-instated) can never again belong to that, or be elected\nto any other, club.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXI\n\nGAMES AND SPORTS\n\n\nThe popularity of bridge whist began a quarter of a century ago with the\nolder people and has increased slowly but steadily until it is scarcely an\nexaggeration to say that those who do not play bridge, which means\n\"auction,\" are seldom asked out. And the epidemic is just as widespread\namong girls and boys as among older people. Bridge is always taken\nseriously; a bumble puppy game won't do at all, even among the youngest\nplayers, and other qualifications of character and of etiquette must be\nobserved by every one who would be sought after to \"make up a four.\"\n\n\n=PEOPLE CHARMING TO PLAY BRIDGE WITH=\n\nThat no one likes a poor partner--or even a poor opponent--goes without\nsaying.\n\nThe ideal partner is one who never criticises or even seems to be aware of\nyour mistakes, but on the contrary recognizes a good maneuver on your\npart, and gives you credit for it whether you win the hand or lose;\nwhereas the inferior player is apt to judge you merely by what you win,\nand blame your \"make\" if you \"go down,\" though your play may have been\nexceptionally good and the loss even occasioned by wrong information which\nhe himself gave you. Also, to be continually found fault with makes you\nplay your worst; whereas appreciation of good judgment on your part acts\nas a tonic and you play seemingly \"better than you know how.\"\n\n\n=PEOPLE DISLIKED AT THE BRIDGE TABLE=\n\nThere is nothing which more quickly reveals the veneered gentleman than\nthe card table, and his veneer melts equally with success or failure.\nBeing carried away by the game, he forgets to keep on his company polish,\nand if he wins, he becomes grasping or overbearing, because of his\n\"skill\"; if he loses he sneers at the \"luck\" of others and seeks to\njustify himself for the same fault that he criticised a moment before in\nanother.\n\nA trick that is annoying to moderately skilled players, is to have an\nover-confident opponent throw down his hand saying: \"The rest of the\ntricks are mine!\" and often succeed in \"putting it over,\" when it is quite\npossible that they might not be his if the hand were played out. Knowing\nthemselves to be poorer players, the others are apt not to question it,\nbut they feel none the less that their \"rights\" have been taken from them.\n\nA rather trying partner is the nervous player, who has no confidence in\nhis own judgment and will invariably pass a good hand in favor of his\npartner's bid. If, for instance, he has six perfectly good diamonds, he\ndoesn't mention them because, his partner having declared a heart, he\nthinks to himself \"Her hearts must be better than my diamonds.\" But a much\nmore serious failing--and one that is far more universal--is the habit of\noverbidding.\n\n\n=OVERBIDDING=\n\nIn poker you play alone and can therefore play as carefully or as\nfoolishly as you please, but in bridge your partner has to suffer with\nyou, and you therefore are in honor bound to play the best you know\nhow--and the best you know how is as far as can possibly be from\noverbidding.\n\nRemember that your partner, if he is a good player, counts on you for\ncertain definite cards that you announce by your bid to be in your hand,\nand raises you accordingly. If you have not these cards you not only lose\nthat particular hand, but destroy his confidence in you, and the next time\nwhen he has a legitimate raise for you, he will fail to give it. He\ndisregards you entirely because he is afraid of you! You _must study the\nrules for makes_ and _never under any circumstances give your partner\nmisinformation_; this is the most vital rule there is, and any one who\ndisregards it is detested at the bridge table. No matter how great the\ntemptation to make a gambler's bid, you are in honor bound to refrain.\n\nThe next essential, if you would be thought \"charming,\" is never to take\nyour partner to task no matter how stupidly he may have \"thrown the hand.\"\n\n\n=DON'TS FOR THOSE WHO WOULD BE SOUGHT AFTER=\n\nDon't hold a \"post-mortem\" on anybody's delinquencies (unless you are\nactually teaching).\n\nIf luck is against you, it will avail nothing to sulk or complain about\nthe \"awful\" cards you are holding. Your partner is suffering just as much\nin finding you a \"poison vine\" as you are in being one--and you can\nscarcely expect your opponents to be sympathetic. You must learn to look\nperfectly tranquil and cheerful even though you hold nothing but\nyarboroughs for days on end, and you must on no account try to defend your\nown bad play--ever. When you have made a play of poor judgment, the best\nthing you can say is, \"I'm very sorry, partner,\" and let it go at that.\n\nAlways pay close attention to the game. When you are dummy you have\ncertain duties to your partner, and so do not wander around the room until\nthe hand is over. If you don't know what your duties are, read the rules\nuntil you know them by heart and then--begin all over again! It is\nimpossible to play any game without a thorough knowledge of the laws that\ngovern it, and you are at fault in making the attempt.\n\nDon't be offended if your partner takes you out of a bid, and don't take\nhim out for the glory of playing the hand. He is quite as anxious to win\nthe rubber as you are. It is unbelievable how many people regard their\npartner as a third opponent.\n\n\n=MANNERISMS AT THE CARD TABLE=\n\nMannerisms must be avoided like the plague. If there is one thing worse\nthan the horrible \"post-mortem,\" it is the incessant repetition of some\njarring habit by one particular player. The most usual and most offensive\nis that of snapping down a card as played, or bending a \"trick\" one has\ntaken into a letter \"U,\" or picking it up and trotting it up and down on\nthe table.\n\nOther pet offenses are drumming on the table with one's fingers, making\nvarious clicking, whistling, or humming sounds, massaging one's face,\nscratching one's chin with the cards, or waving the card one is going to\nplay aloft in the air in Smart Alec fashion as though shouting, \"I know\nwhat you are going to lead! And my card is ready!\" All mannerisms that\nattract attention are in the long run equally unpleasant--even unendurable\nto one's companions.\n\nMany people whose game is otherwise admirable are rarely asked to play\nbecause they have allowed some such silly and annoying habit to take its\nhold upon them.\n\n\n=THE GOOD LOSER=\n\nThe good loser makes it an invariable rule never to play for stakes that\nit will be inconvenient to lose. The neglect of this rule has been\nresponsible for more \"bad losers\" than anything else, and needless to say\na bad loser is about as welcome at a card table as rain at a picnic.\n\nOf course there _are_ people who can take losses beyond their means with\nperfect cheerfulness and composure. Some few are so imbued with the\ngambler's instinct that a heavy turn of luck, in either direction, is the\nsalt of life. But the average person is equally embarrassed in winning or\nlosing a stake \"that matters\" and the only answer is to play for one that\ndoesn't.\n\n\n=GOLF=\n\nGolf is a particularly severe strain upon the amiability of the average\nperson's temper, and in no other game, except bridge, is serenity of\ndisposition so essential. No one easily \"ruffled\" can keep a clear eye on\nthe ball, and exasperation at \"lost balls\" seemingly bewitches successive\nones into disappearing with the completeness and finality of puffs of\nsmoke. In a race or other test of endurance a flare of anger might even\nhelp, but in golf it is safe to say that he who loses his temper is pretty\nsure to lose the game.\n\nGolf players of course know the rules and observe them, but it quite often\nhappens that idlers, having nothing better to do, walk out over a course\nand \"watch the players.\" If they know the players well, that is one thing,\nbut they have no right to follow strangers. A player who is nervous is\neasily put off his game, especially if those watching him are so ill-bred\nas to make audible remarks. Those playing matches of course expect an\naudience, and erratic and nervous players ought not to go into\ntournaments--or at least not in two-ball foursomes where they are likely\nto handicap a partner.\n\nIn following a match, onlookers must be careful to stand well within\nbounds and neither talk nor laugh nor do anything that can possibly\ndistract the attention of the players.\n\nThe rule that you should not appoint yourself mentor holds good in golf as\nwell as in bridge and every other game. Unless your advice is asked for,\nyou should not instruct others how to hold their clubs or which ones to\nuse, or how they ought to make the shot.\n\nA young woman must on no account expect the man she happens to be playing\nwith to make her presents of golf-balls, or to caddy for her, nor must she\nallow him to provide her with a caddy. If she can't afford to hire one of\nher own, she must either carry her own clubs or not play golf.\n\n\n=OTHER GAMES AND SPORTS=\n\nThere are fixed rules for the playing of every game--and for proper\nconduct in every sport. The details of these rules must be studied in the\n\"books of the game,\" learned from instructors, or acquired by experience.\nA small boy perhaps learns to fish or swim by himself, but he is taught by\nhis father or a guide--at all events, some one--how and how not to hold a\ngun, cast a fly, or ride a horse. But apart from the technique of each\nsport, or the rules of each game, the etiquette--or more correctly, the\nbasic principles of good sportsmanship, are the same.\n\nIn no sport or game can any favoritism or evasion of rules be allowed.\nSport is based upon impersonal and indiscriminating fairness to every one\nalike, or it is not \"sport.\"\n\nAnd to _be_ a good sportsman, one must be a stoic and never show rancor in\ndefeat, or triumph in victory, or irritation, no matter what annoyance is\nencountered. One who can not help sulking, or explaining, or protesting\nwhen the loser, or exulting when the winner, has no right to take part in\ngames and contests.\n\n\n=\"PLAYING THE GAME\"=\n\nIf you would be thought to play the game, meaning if you aspire to be a\ntrue sportsman, you must follow the rules of sportsmanship the world over:\n\nNever lose your temper.\n\nPlay for the sake of playing rather than to win.\n\nNever stop in the middle of a tennis or golf match and complain of a lame\nankle, especially if you are losing. Unless it is literally impossible for\nyou to go on, you must stick it out.\n\nIf you are a novice, don't ask an expert to play with you, especially as\nyour partner. If he should ask you in spite of your shortcomings, maintain\nthe humility proper to a beginner.\n\nIf you are a woman, don't ape the ways and clothing of men. If you are a\nman, don't take advantage of your superior strength to set a pace beyond\nthe endurance of a woman opponent.\n\nAnd always give the opponent the benefit of the doubt! Nothing is more\nimportant to your standing as a sportsman, though it costs you the\nparticular point in question.\n\nA true sportsman is always a cheerful loser, a quiet winner, with a very\nfrank appreciation of the admirable traits in others, which he seeks to\nemulate, and his own shortcomings, which he tries to improve.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXII\n\nETIQUETTE IN BUSINESS AND POLITICS\n\n\nA certain rich man whose appointment to a foreign post of importance was\nabout to be ratified, came into the corridor of a Washington hotel and\nstopped to speak with a lady for a few moments. During the whole\nconversation he kept his hat on his head and a cigar in the corner of his\nmouth. It happened that the lady was the wife of a prominent senator, and\nshe lost no time in reporting the incident to her husband, who in turn\nbrought the matter to the attention of certain of his colleagues with the\nresult that the appointment did not go through.\n\nIt is not unlikely that this man thinks \"politics played against him,\"\nwhereas the only factor against him was his exhibition of ill-breeding\nwhich proved him unsuitable to represent the dignity of his country.\n\nEtiquette would not seem to play an important part in business, and yet no\nman can ever tell when its knowledge may be of advantage, or its lack may\nturn the scale against him. The man who remains \"planted\" in his chair\nwhen a lady (or an older man) speaks to him, who receives customers in his\nshirt sleeves, who does not take off his hat when talking with a lady and\ntake his cigar out of his mouth when bowing or when addressing her, can\nnever be sure that he is not preparing a witness for the prosecution.\n\n\n=ETIQUETTE IN SMOKING=\n\nThe above does not mean that a gentleman may never smoke in the presence\nof ladies--especially in the presence of those who smoke themselves--but a\ngentleman should not smoke under the following circumstances:\n\nWhen walking on the street with a lady.\n\nWhen lifting his hat or bowing.\n\nIn a room, an office, or an elevator, when a lady enters.\n\nIn any short conversation where he is standing near, or talking with a\nlady.\n\nIf he is seated himself for a conversation with a lady on a veranda, in an\nhotel, in a private house, anywhere where \"smoking is permitted,\" he first\nasks, \"Do you mind if I smoke?\" And if she replies, \"Not at all\" or \"Do,\nby all means,\" it is then proper for him to do so. He should, however,\ntake his cigar, pipe, or cigarette, out of his mouth while he is speaking.\nOne who is very adroit can say a word or two without an unpleasant\ngrimace, but one should not talk with one's mouth either full of food or\nbarricaded with tobacco.\n\nIn the country, a gentleman may walk with a lady and smoke at the same\ntime--especially a pipe or cigarette. Why a cigar is less admissible is\nhard to determine, unless a pipe somehow belongs to the country. A\ngentleman in golf or country clothes with a pipe in his mouth and a dog at\nhis heels suggests a picture fitting to the scene; while a cigar seems as\nout of place as a cutaway coat. A pipe on the street in a city, on the\nother hand, is less appropriate than a cigar in the country. In any event\nhe will, of course, ask his companion's permission to smoke.\n\n\n=MANNERS AND BUSINESS=\n\nIf you had a commission to give and you entered a man's office and found\nhim lolling back in a tipped swivel chair, his feet above his head, the\nubiquitous cigar in his mouth and his drowsy attention fixed on the\nsporting page of the newspaper, you would be impressed not so much by his\nlack of good manners as by his bad business policy, because of the\nincompetence that his attitude suggests. It is scarcely necessary to ask:\nWould you give an important commission to him who has no apparent\nintention of doing anything but \"take his ease\"; or to him who is found\noccupied at his desk, who gets up with alacrity upon your entrance, and is\nseemingly \"on his toes\" mentally as well as actually? Or, would you go in\npreference to a man whose manners resemble those of a bear at the Zoo, if\nyou could go to another whose business ability is supplemented by\npersonal charm? And this again is merely an illustration of bad manners\nand good.\n\n\n=AN ADVANTAGE OF POLISH=\n\nOne advantage of polish is that one's opponent can never tell what is\ngoing on under the glazed surface of highly finished manners, whereas an\nunfinished surface is all too easily penetrated. And since business\nencounters are often played like poker hands, it is surely a bad plan to\nbe playing with a mind-reader who can plainly divine his opponent's cards,\nwhile his own are unrevealed.\n\nManners that can by any possibility be construed as mincing, foppish or\neffeminate are _not_ recommended; but a gentleman who says \"Good morning\"\nto his employees and who invariably treats all women as \"ladies,\" does not\nhalf so much flatter their vanity as win their respect for himself as a\ngentleman. Again, good manners are, after all, nothing but courteous\nconsideration of other people's interests and feelings. That being true,\ndoes it not follow that all customers, superior officers and employees\nprefer an executive whose good manners imply consideration of his\ncustomer's, his company's and his employee's interest as well as merely\nhis own?\n\n\n=PERFECT POLISH THAT IS UNSUSPECTED=\n\nThe president of a great industry, whose mastery of etiquette is one of\nhis chief assets, so submerges this asset in other and more apparent\nqualifications, that every plain man he comes in contact with takes it for\ngranted that he is an equally \"plain\" man himself. He _is_ plain in so far\nas he is straightforward in attitude and simple in manner. No red tape is\nrequired apparently to penetrate into this president's private office,\nwhereas many \"small\" men are guarded with pretentiousness that is often an\neffort to give an impression of \"importance.\"\n\nIn this big man's employ there is an especial assistant chosen purposely\nbecause of his tact and good manners. If an unknown person asks to see\nMr. President, this deputy is sent out (as from most offices) to find out\nwhat the visitor's business is; but instead of being told bluntly the boss\ndoesn't know him and can't see him, the visitor is made to feel how much\nthe president will regret not seeing him. Perhaps he is told, \"Mr.\nPresident is in conference just now. I know he would not like you to be\nkept waiting; can I be of any service to you? I am his junior assistant.\"\nIf the visitor's business is really with the president, he is admitted to\nthe chief executive's office, since it is the latter's policy to see every\none that he can.\n\nHe has a courteous manner that makes every one feel there is nothing in\nthe day's work half so important as what his visitor has come to see him\nabout! Nor is this manner insincere; for whatever time one sees him, he\ngives his undivided attention. Should his time be short, and the moment\napproach when he is due at an appointment, his secretary enters, a\npurposely arranged ten minutes ahead of the time necessary for the close\nof the present interview, and apologetically reminds him, \"I'm sorry, Mr.\nPresident, but your appointment with the 'Z' committee is due.\" Mr.\nPresident with seeming unconcern, uses up most of the ten minutes, and his\nlingering close of the conversation gives his visitor the impression that\nhe must have been late at his appointment, and wholly because of the\nunusual interest felt in his caller.\n\nThis is neither sincerity nor insincerity, but merely bringing social\nknowledge into business dealing. To make a pleasant and friendly\nimpression is not alone good manners, but equally good business. The crude\nman would undoubtedly show his eagerness to be rid of his visitor, and\nafter offending the latter's self-pride because of his inattentive\ndiscourtesy, be late for his own appointment! The man of skill saw his\nvisitor for fewer actual minutes, but gave the impression that\ncircumstances over which he had no control forced him unwillingly to close\nthe interview. He not only gained the good will of his visitor, but\narrived at his own appointment in plenty of time.\n\nTo listen attentively when one is spoken to, is merely one of the rules\nof etiquette. The man who, while some one is talking to him, gazes out of\nthe window or up at the ceiling, who draws squares and circles on the\nblotter, or is engrossed in his finger-nails or his shoes, may in his own\nmind be \"finessing,\" or very likely he is bored! In the first case, the\nchances are he will lose the game; in the second, lots of people are\nbored, hideously bored, and most often the fault is their own; always they\nare at fault who show it.\n\n\n=GOOD MANNERS AND \"GOOD MIXERS\"=\n\nWhen one thinks of a man who is known in politics and business as a \"good\nmixer,\" one is apt to think of him as a rough diamond rather than a\npolished one. In picturing a gentleman, a man of high cultivation, one\ninstinctively thinks of one who is somewhat aloof and apart. A good mixer\namong uncouth men may quite accurately be one who is also uncouth; but the\nbest \"mixer\" of all is one who adjusts himself equally well to finer as\nwell as to plainer society. Education that does not confer flexibility of\nmind is an obviously limited education; the man of broadest education\ntunes himself in unison with whomever he happens to be. The more subjects\nhe knows about, the more people he is in sympathy with, and therefore the\nmore customers or associates or constituents he is sure to have.\n\nThe really big man--it makes little difference whether he was born with a\ngold spoon in his mouth or no spoon at all--is always one whose interest\nin people, things, and events is a stimulating influence upon all those he\ncomes in contact with.\n\nHe who says, \"That does not interest me,\" or \"That bores me,\" defines his\nown limitations. He who is unable to project sympathy into other problems\nor classes than his own is an unimportant person though he have the birth\nof a Cecil and the manners of a Chesterfield. Every gentleman has an\ninalienable right to his own reserves--that goes without saying--and\nbecause he can project sympathy and understanding where and when he\nchooses, does not for one moment mean that he thereby should break down\nthe walls of his instinctive defenses.\n\nIt is not the latter type, but the \"Gentleman Limited\" who has belittled\nthe name of \"gentleman\" in the world of work; not so much because he is a\ngentleman, as because he is not entirely one. He who is every inch a\ngentleman as well as every inch a man is the highest type in the world\nto-day, just as he has always been. The do-nothing gentleman is equally\nlooked down upon everywhere.\n\n\n=ETIQUETTE IN \"REVERSE GEAR\"=\n\nEtiquette, remember, is merely a collection of forms by which all personal\ncontacts in life are made smooth. The necessity for a \"rough\" man to\nbecome polished so that he may meet men of cultivation on an equal\nfooting, has an equally important reverse. The time has gone by when a\ngentleman by grace of God, which placed him in a high-born position, can\ncontrol numbers of other men placed beneath him. Every man takes his place\nto-day according to born position plus the test of his own experience. And\njust as an unlettered expert in business is only half authoritative to men\nof high cultivation, so also is the gentleman, no matter how much he knows\nof Latin, Greek, history, art and polish of manner, handicapped according\nto his ignorance on the subject of another's expertness. Etiquette, in\nreverse, prescribes this necessity for complete knowledge in every contact\nin life. Through knowledge alone, does one prove one's right to authority.\nFor instance:\n\nA man in a machine ship is working at a lathe. An officer of the company\ncomes into the shop, a gentleman in white collar and good clothes! He\nstands behind the mechanic and \"curses him out\" because his work is\ninefficient. When he turns away, the man at the lathe says, \"Who was that\nguy anyway? What business has he to teach me my job?\" Instead of accepting\nthe criticism, he resents what he considers unwarranted interference by a\nman in another \"class.\"\n\nBut supposing instead of standing by and talking about inefficiency, the\n\"gentleman\" had said, \"Get out of there a moment!\" and throwing off his\ncoat and rolling up his silk shirt sleeves, he had operated the lathe with\na smoothness and rapidity that could only have been acquired through long\nexperience at a bench. The result would be that the next time he came on a\ntour of inspection that particular man (as well as all those who were\nwitnesses of the former scene) would not only listen to him with respect\nbut without resentment of his \"class,\" because his expertness proved that\nhe had earned his right to good clothes and silk shirts, and to tell those\nbeneath him how work should be done.\n\nThe same test applies to any branch of experience: a man who knows as much\nabout any \"specialty\" as an expert does himself, makes the \"expert\" think\nat once, \"This man is a wonder!\" The very fact that the first man is not\nmaking the subject _his_ specialty, intensifies the achievement.\nEverything he says after that on subjects of which the second man knows\nnothing is accepted without question. Whenever you know as much as the\nother man, whether you are socially above, or below him, you are on that\nsubject his equal; when you know more than he does, you have the\nadvantage.\n\n\n=THE SELF-MADE MAN AND WORLD-MADE MANNERS=\n\nIt is not in order to shine in society that grace of manner is an asset;\ncomparatively few people in a community care a rap about \"society\" anyway!\nA man of affairs whose life is spent in doing a man's work in a man's way\nis not apt to be thrilled at the thought of putting on \"glad\" clothes and\ngoing out with his wife to a \"pink\" tea or a ball.\n\nBut what many successful men do not realize is that a fundamental\nknowledge of etiquette is no less an asset in business or public life, or\nin any other contact with people, than it is in society.\n\nJust as any expert, whether at a machine bench, an accountant's desk, or\nat golf, gives an impression of such ease as to make his accomplishment\nseemingly require no skill, a bungler makes himself and every one watching\nhim uneasy if not actually fearful of his awkwardness. And as inexpertness\nis quite as irritating in personal as in mechanical bungling, so there is\nscarcely any one who sooner or later does not feel the need of social\nexpertness. Something, some day, will awaken him to the folly of scorning\nas \"soft,\" men who have accomplished manners; despising as \"effeminate,\"\nyouths who have physical grace; of being contemptuous of the perfect\nEnglish of the well-bred gentleman; of consoling himself with the thought\nthat his own crudeness is strong, and manly, and American!\n\n\n=THE \"X\" MARKERS=\n\nBut let \"success\" come to this same inexpert man--let him be appointed to\nhigh office, let him then shuffle from foot to foot, never knowing what to\ndo or say, let him meet open derision or ill-concealed contempt from every\neducated person brought in contact with him, let opprobrium fall upon his\nState because its governor is a boor, and let him as such be written of in\nthe editorials of the press and in the archives of history! Will he be so\npleased with himself then? Does any one think of Theodore Roosevelt as\n\"soft\" or \"effeminate\" because he was one of the greatest masters of\netiquette who ever bore the most exalted honor that can be awarded by the\npeople of the United States? Washington was completely a gentleman--and so\nwas Abraham Lincoln. Because Lincoln's etiquette was self-taught it was no\nless masterly for that! Whether he happened to know a lot of trifling\ndetails of pseudo etiquette matters not in the least. Awkward he may have\nbeen, but the essence of him was courtesy--unfailing courtesy. No \"rough,\nuneducated\" man has command of perfect English, and Lincoln's English is\nsupreme.\n\nOne thing that some Men of Might forget is that lack of polish in its\nwider aspects is merely lack of education. They themselves look down upon\na man who has to make an \"X\" mark in place of signing his name--but they\noverlook entirely that to those more highly educated, they are themselves\nin degree quite as ignorant.\n\n\n=SONS OF SELF-MADE MEN=\n\nAnd yet, speak to self-made men of the need of the social graces for their\nsons, and nine out of ten stampede--for all the world as though it were\nsuggested to put them in petticoats. Do they think a poor unlettered lout\nwho shambles at the door, who stands unable to speak, who turns his cap in\nhis hands, who sidles into the room, and can't for the life of him get out\nagain, well trained for the battle of life?\n\nPicture that Mr. Strong Man who thrusts his thumbs into his armholes and\nsits tipped back in his chair with a cigar in the corner of his mouth and\nhis heels comfortably reposing on his solid mahogany desk. This is not in\ncriticism of his relaxation, it is his own desk and certainly he has a\nright to put his heels on it if he wants to; likewise thumbs and armholes\nare his own. It is merely a picture that leads to another: Supposing a\nvery great man comes into Mr. Strong Man's office--one whom he may\nconsider a great man, a president perhaps of a big industry or of a\nrailroad, or a senator--and shortly afterwards, Strong Man's own son comes\ninto the room. Would he like to see his son abashed, awkward,\nspasmodically jerky, like the poor bumpkin who came the other day to ask\nabout removing the ashes, or worse yet, bold and boisterous or cheeky; or\nwould he like that boy of his to come forward with an entire lack of\nself-consciousness, and as his father introduces him as \"My Son!\" have him\nput out his hand in frank and easy and yet deferential friendliness? And\nthen saying quickly and quietly whatever it was he came to say, as quickly\nand quietly make his way out again? Would he be sorry that the big man\nthought, \"Fine boy that! Ability too!\" Why would he think he had ability?\nBecause the ease and dexterity with which he handled the social incident\nautomatically suggests ability to handle other situations!\n\n\n=ETIQUETTE AND BUSINESS AUTHORITY=\n\nAnother point: Does the self-made man stop to realize that his authority\nin business would be even greater than it is if he had the hall-marks, of\ncultivation? For instance, when he comes in contact with college graduates\nand other cultivated men, his opinions gain or lose in weight exactly in\nproportion as he proves to be in their own \"class\" or below it.\n\nA man unconsciously judges the authority of others by the standard of his\nown expert knowledge. A crude man may be a genius in business management,\nbut in the unspoken opinion of men of education, he is in other contacts\ninferior to themselves. He is an authority they grant, but in limited\nlines only.\n\nBut when a man is met with who combines with business genius the advantage\nof polished manners and evident cultivation, his opinion on any subject\nbroached at once assumes added weight. Doesn't it?\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIII\n\nDRESS\n\n\nClothes are to us what fur and feathers are to beasts and birds; they not\nonly add to our appearance, but they are our appearance. How we look to\nothers entirely depends upon what we wear and how we wear it; manners and\nspeech are noted afterward, and character last of all.\n\nIn the community where we live, admirableness of character is the\nfundamental essential, and in order to achieve a position of importance,\npersonality is also essential; but for the transient impression that we\nmake at home, abroad, everywhere in public, two superficial attributes are\nalone indispensable: good manners and a pleasing appearance.\n\nIt is not merely a question of vanity and inclination. In New York, for\ninstance, a woman must dress well, to pay her way. In Europe, where the\ntitle of Duchess serves in lieu of a court train of gold brocade; or in\nBohemian circles where talent alone may count; or in small communities\nwhere people are known for what they really are, appearance is of esthetic\nrather than essential importance.\n\nIn the world of smart society--in America at any rate--clothes not only\nrepresent our ticket of admission, but our contribution to the effect of a\nparty. What makes a brilliant party? Clothes. Good clothes. A frumpy party\nis nothing more nor less than a collection of badly dressed persons.\nPeople with all the brains, even all the beauty imaginable, make an\nassemblage of dowds, unless they are well dressed.\n\nNot even the most beautiful ballroom in the world, decorated like the\nGarden of Eden, could in itself suggest a brilliant entertainment, if the\nmajority of those who filled it were frumps--or worse yet, vulgarians!\nRather be frumpy than vulgar! Much. Frumps are often celebrities in\ndisguise--but a person of vulgar appearance is vulgar all through.\n\n\n=THE SHEEP=\n\nFrumps are not very typical of America, vulgarians are somewhat more\nnumerous, but the greatest number of all are the quietly dressed,\nunnoticeable men and women who make up the representative backbone in\nevery city; who buy good clothes but not more than they need, and whose\nambition is merely to be well enough dressed to fit in with their\nbackground, whatever their background may be.\n\nLess numerous, but far more conspicuous, are the dressed-to-the-minute\nwomen who, like sheep exactly, follow every turn of latest fashion blindly\nand without the slightest sense of distance or direction. As each new\nseason's fashion is defined, all the sheep run and dress themselves each\nin a replica of the other, their own types and personalities have nothing\nto do with the case. Fashion says: \"Wear bolster cases tied at the neck\nand ankle,\" or \"A few wisps of gauze held in place with court plaster,\"\nand daughter, mother, grandmother, and all the neighbors wear the same. If\nemerald green is the fashionable color, all of the yellowest skins will be\nframed in it. When hobble skirts are the thing, the fattest wabble along,\nlooking for all the world like chandeliers tied up in mosquito netting. If\nball dresses are cut to the last limit of daring, the ample billows of the\nfat will vie blandly with the marvels of anatomy exhibited by the thin.\nComfort, convenience, becomingness, adaptability, beauty are of no\nimportance. Fashion is followed to the letter--therefore they fancy, poor\nsheep, they are the last word in smartness. Those whom the fashion suits\n_are_ \"smart,\" but they are seldom, if ever, distinguished, because--they\nare all precisely alike.\n\n\n=THE WOMAN WHO IS REALLY CHIC=\n\nThe woman who is chic is always a little different. Not different in being\nbehind fashion, but always slightly apart from it. \"Chic\" is a borrowed\nadjective, but there is no English word to take the place of \"elegant\"\nwhich was destroyed utterly by the reporter or practical joker who said\n\"elegant dresses,\" and yet there is no synonym that will express the\nindividuality of beautiful taste combined with personal dignity and grace\nwhich gives to a perfect costume an inimitable air of distinction. _Une\ndame \u00e9l\u00e9gante_ is all of that! And Mrs. Oldname is just such a person. She\nfollows fashion merely so far as is absolutely necessary. She gets the\nlatest model perhaps, but has it adapted to her own type, so that she has\njust that distinction of appearance that the sheep lack. She has even\nclung with slight modifications to the \"Worth\" ball dress, and her\n\"wrapped\" or fitted bodice has continued to look the smartest in every\nballroom in spite of the Greek drapery and one-piece meal bag and all the\nother kaleidoscopic changes of fashion the rest of us have been through.\n\nBut the average would-be independent who determines to stand her ground,\nsaying, \"These new models are preposterous! I shall wear nothing of the\nsort!\" and keeps her word, soon finds herself not at all an example of\ndignity but an object of derision.\n\n\n=FASHION HAS LITTLE IN COMMON WITH BEAUTY=\n\nFashion ought to be likened to a tide or epidemic; sometimes one might\ndefine it as a sort of hypnotism, seemingly exerted by the gods as a joke.\nFashion has the power to appear temporarily in the guise of beauty, though\nit is the antithesis of beauty nearly always. If you doubt it, look at old\nfashion plates. Even the woman of beautiful taste succumbs occasionally to\nthe epidemics of fashion, but she is more immune than most. All women who\nhave any clothes sense whatever know more or less the type of things that\nare their style--unless they have such an attack of fashionitis as to be\nirresponsibly delirious.\n\nTo describe any details of dress, that will not be as \"queer\" to-morrow as\nto-day's fashions are bound to be, would seem at the outset pretty much\nlike writing about next year's weather. And yet, there is one unchanging\nprinciple which must be followed by every woman, man and child that is\nwell dressed--suitability. Nor does suitability mean merely that you must\nchoose clothes suitable to your age and appearance, and that you must get\na ball dress for a ball, and a street dress to walk in; it means equally\nthat you must not buy clothes out of proportion to your income, or out of\nkeeping with your surroundings.\n\n\n=DISPROPORTIONATE EXPENDITURE IN BAD TASTE=\n\nAbout fifteen years ago the extravagance in women's dress reached such a\nhigh-water mark that it was not unheard of for a New York woman to spend a\nthird of her husband's income on clothes. All women of fashion bought\nclothes when it would not have occurred to them to buy furniture--when it\nwould have seemed preposterous to buy a piece of jewelry--but clothes,\nclothes, and more clothes, each more hand-embroidered than the last, until\njust as it seemed that no dress was fit to be seen if it hadn't a month or\ntwo of some one's time embroidered on it, the work on clothes subsided,\nuntil now we are at the other extreme; no work is put on them at all. At\nleast, clothes to-day are much more sensible, and let us hope the sense\nwill be lasting.\n\nThe war did at least make people realize that luxuries and trimmings could\ngo too far. Ten years ago the American woman who lived in a little\ncottage, who walked when she went out or took the street car, wore the\nsame clothes exactly that Mrs. Gilding wore in her victoria, or trailed\nover a Ming rug. The French woman has always been (and the American woman\nof taste is now) too great an artist to sit in a little room with its\ncotton-print slip covers, muslin curtains, and geranium pots on the window\nledge, in anything strikingly elaborate and expensive. Charming as her\ndress may be in line and cut and color, she keeps it (no matter how\nintrinsically good it may be) in harmony with her geranium pots and her\nchintz.\n\nOn the other hand, clothes that are too plain can be equally out of\nproportion. Last winter, for instance, a committee of ladies met in what\nmight safely be called the handsomest house in New York, in a room that\nwould fit perfectly in the Palace of Versailles, filled with treasures\nsuch as those of the Wallace collection. The hostess presided in a black\nserge golf skirt, a business woman's white shirt-waist, and stout walking\nboots, her hair brushed flat and tidily back and fastened as though for\nriding, her face and hands redolent of soap. No powder, not a nail\nmanicured. Had she been a girl earning her living, she could not have been\nmore suitably dressed, but her millions and her palace background demand\nthat her clothes be at least moderately in keeping.\n\nOne does not have to be dowdy as an alternative to being too richly\ndressed, and to define differences between clothes that are notable\nbecause of their distinction and smartness, and clothes that are merely\nconspicuous and therefore vulgar, is a very elusive point. However, there\nare certain rules that seem pretty well established.\n\n\n=VULGAR CLOTHES=\n\nVulgar clothes are those which, no matter what the fashion of the moment\nmay be, are always too elaborate for the occasion; too exaggerated in\nstyle, or have accessories out of proportion. People of uncultivated taste\nare apt to fancy distortions; to exaggerate rather than modify the\nprevailing fashions.\n\nFor example: A conspicuous evidence of bad style that has persisted\nthrough numberless changes in fashion, is the over-dressed and\nover-trimmed head. The woman of uncultivated taste has no more sense of\nmoderation than the Queen of the Cannibals. She will elaborate her\nhair-dressing to start with (this is all right, if elaboration really\nsuits her type) and then she will \"decorate\" it with everything in the way\nof millinery and jewelry that she can lay her hands on. Or, in the\ndaytime, she fancies equally over-weighted hats, and rich-looking fur\ncoats and the latest edition in the most conspicuous possible footwear.\nAnd she much prefers wearing rings to gloves. Maybe she thinks they do\nnot go together? She despises sensible clothing; she also despises plain\nfabrics and untrimmed models. She also cares little (apparently) for\nstaying at home, since she is perpetually seen at restaurants and at every\npublic entertainment. The food she orders is rich, the appearance she\nmakes is rich; in fact, to see her often is like nothing so much as being\nforced to eat a large amount of butter-plain.\n\nBeau Brummel's remark that when one attracted too much notice, one could\nbe sure of being not well-dressed but over-dressed, has for a hundred\nyears been the comfort of the dowdy. It is, of course, very often true,\nbut not invariably. A person may be stared at for any one of many reasons.\nIt depends very much on the stare. A woman may be stared at because she is\nindiscreet, or because she looks like a left-over member of the circus, or\nbecause she is enchanting to look at.\n\nIf you are much stared at, what _sort_ of a stare do you usually meet? Is\nit bold, or mocking, or is it merely that people look at you wistfully? If\nthe first, change your manner; if the second, wear more conventional\nclothes; if the third, you may be left as you are. But be sure of your\ndiagnosis of this last.\n\n\n=EXTRAVAGANCE NOT VULGARITY=\n\nOstentation is always vulgar but extravagance is not necessarily\nvulgar--not by any means. Extravagance can become dishonest if carried\nbeyond one's income.\n\nNearly everything that is beautiful or valuable is an extravagance--for\nmost of us. Always to wear new gloves is an extravagant item for one with\na small allowance--but scarcely vulgar! A laundry bill can be extravagant,\nflowers in one's city house, a piece of beautiful furniture, a good\ntapestry, each is an extravagance to an income that can not easily afford\nthe expenditure. To one sufficient to buy the tapestry, the flowers are\nnot an extravagance at all.\n\nTo buy quantities of things that are not even used after they are bought\nis sheer wastefulness, and to buy everything that tempts you, whether you\ncan afford to pay for it or not, is, if you can not afford it, verging on\nthe actually dishonest.\n\n\n=DRESSES FOR DINNERS AND BALLS=\n\nSupposing, since clothes suitable to the occasion are the first requisite\nof good taste, we take up a few details that are apart from fashion.\n\nA dinner dress really means every sort of low, or half low evening dress.\nA formal dinner dress, like a ball dress, is always low-necked and without\nsleeves, and is the handsomest type of evening dress that there is. A ball\ndress may be exquisite in detail but it is often merely effective. The\nperfect ball dress is one purposely designed with a skirt that is becoming\nwhen dancing. A long wrapped type of dress would make Diana herself look\nlike a toy monkey-on-a-stick, but might be dignified and beautiful at a\ndinner. A dinner dress differs from a ball dress in little except that it\nis not necessarily designed for freedom of movement.\n\nHair ornaments always look well at a ball but are not especially\nappropriate (unless universally in fashion) on other occasions. A lady in\na ball dress with nothing added to the head, looks a little like being\nhatless in the street. This sounds like a contradiction of the criticism\nof the vulgarian. But because a tiara is beautiful at a ball, or a spray\nof feathers, or a high comb, or another ornament, does not mean that all\nof these should be put on together and worn in a restaurant; which is just\nwhat the vulgarian would do. Whether, to wear a head-dress, however,\ndepends not alone upon fashion but upon the individual. If the type of\nhair ornament at the moment in fashion is becoming, wear it, especially to\nballs and in a box at the opera. But if it is not becoming, don't.\n\nLadies of fashion, by the way, do not have their hair especially dressed\nfor formal occasions. Each wears her hair a certain way, and it is put up\nevery morning just as carefully as for a ball. The only time it is\narranged differently is for riding. Ah informal dinner dress is merely a\nmodified formal one. It is low in front and high in the back, with long or\nelbow sleeves--or perhaps it is Dutch neck and no sleeves.\n\nWhen trains are in fashion, all older women should wear them. Fashion or\nno fashion, no woman who has passed forty looks really well in a cut-off\nevening dress. An effect of train, however, can very adequately be\nproduced with any arrangement or trimming that extends upon the floor.\n\nThe informal dinner dress is worn to the theater, the restaurant (of high\nclass), the concert and the opera. Informal dinner dresses are worn in the\nboxes at the opera on ordinary nights, such as when no especially great\nstar is to sing, and when one is not going on to a ball afterward, but a\nball dress is never inappropriate, especially without head-dress. On gala\nnights, ball dresses are worn in the boxes and head-dresses and as many\njewels as one chooses--or has.\n\n\n=THE TEA-GOWN=\n\nEvery one knows that a tea-gown is a hybrid between a wrapper and a ball\ndress. It has always a train and usually long flowing sleeves; is made of\nrather gorgeous materials and goes on easily, and its chief use is not for\nwear at the tea-table so much as for dinner alone with one's family.\n\nIt can, however, very properly be put on for tea, and if one is dining at\nhome, kept on for dinner. Otherwise a lady is apt to take tea in whatever\ndress she had on for luncheon, and dress after tea for dinner.\n\nOne does not go out to dine in a tea-gown except in the house of a member\nof one's family or a most intimate friend. One would wear a tea-gown in\none's own house in receiving a guest to whose house one would wear a\ndinner dress.\n\n\n=WHEN IN DOUBT=\n\nThere is one rule that is fairly safe to follow: When in doubt, wear the\nplainer dress. It is always better far to be under-dressed than\nover-dressed. If you don't know whether to put on a ball dress or a dinner\ndress, wear the dinner dress. Or, whether to wear cloth or brocade to a\nluncheon, wear the cloth.\n\n\n=ON THE STREET=\n\nYour tea-gowns, since they are never worn in public, can literally be as\nbizarre as you please, and if you are driving in a closed motor, you can\nalso wear an \"original\" type of dress. But in walking on the street,--if\nyou care to be taken for a well-bred person--never wear anything that is\nexaggerated. If skirts are short, don't wear them two inches shorter than\nany one else's; if they are long, don't go down the street dragging a\ntrain and sweeping the dirt up on the under-flouncings. (Let us hope\n_that_ fashion never comes back!) Don't wear too much jewelry; it is in\nbad taste in the first place, and in the second, is a temptation to a\nthief. And don't under any circumstances, distort your figure into a\ngrotesque shape.\n\n\n=COUNTRY CLOTHES=\n\nNothing so marks the \"person who doesn't know\" as inappropriate choice of\nclothes. To wear elaborate clothes out of doors in the country, is quite\nas out of place as to parade \"sports\" clothes on the streets in town.\n\nIt is safe to say that \"sport\" clothes are appropriate country\nclothes--especially for all young people. Elderly ladies, needless to say,\nshould not don \"sporting eccentricities\" nor wear sweaters to lunch\nparties; but sensible country clothes, such as have for many decades been\nworn in England, of homespun or serge or jersey cloth or whatever has\nreplaced these materials, are certainly more appropriate to walk in than a\ntown costume--even for a lady of seventy! Young people going to the\ncountry for the day wear sports clothes; which if seen early in the\nmorning in town and again late in the afternoon, merely show you have been\nto the country. But town clothes in the country proclaim your ignorance of\nfitness. Even for a lunch party at Golden Hall or Great Estates, every one\nwho is young wears smart country clothes.\n\n\n=SHOES AND SLIPPERS=\n\nSport shoes are naturally adapted to the sport for which they are\nintended. High-heeled slippers do not go with any country clothes, except\norgandie or muslins or other distinctly feminine \"summer\" dresses.\nElaborate afternoon dresses of \"painted\" chiffons, embroidered mulls,\netc., are seen only at weddings, lawn parties, or at watering-places\nabroad.\n\n\n=A SUGGESTION TO THOSE WHO MIND SUNBURN=\n\nNo advice is intended for those who have a skin that either does not burn\nat all, or turns a beautiful smooth Hawaiian brown; but a woman whose\ncreamy complexion bursts into freckles, as violent as they are hideous, at\nthe first touch of the sun need no longer stay perpetually indoors in\ndaytime, or venture out only when swathed like a Turk, if she knows the\nvirtue in orange as a color that defies the sun's rays. A thin veil of\nred-orange is more effective than a thick one of blue or black.\n\nOrange shirt-waists do not sound very conservative, but they are\nmercifully conserving to arms sensitive to sunburn. Young Mrs. Gilding,\nwhose skin is as perishable as it is lovely, always wears orange on the\ngolf course. A skirt of burnt-orange serge of homespun or linen, and\nshirt-waists of orange linen or crepe de chine. A hat with a brim and a\nharem-veil (pinned across her nose under her eyes) of orange\nmarquisette,--which is easier to breathe through than chiffon--allows her\nto play golf or tennis or to motor or even go out in a sailboat and keep\nher skin without a blemish.\n\nConstance Style, who also has a skin that the sun destroys, wears orange\nplaying tennis, but for bathing wears a high-neck and long-sleeved bathing\nsuit and \"makes her face up\" (also the backs of her hands) with theatrical\ngrease paint that has a good deal of yellow in it, and flesh color\nordinary powder on top. The grease paint withstands hot sun and water, but\nit is messy. The alternative, however, is a choice between complexion or\nbathing, as it is otherwise prohibitive for the \"sun afflicted\" to have\nboth.\n\n\n=RIDING CLOTHES=\n\nThe distorted circus-mirror clothes seen on men who know no better, are\nnot a bit worse than the riding clothes seen on actresses in our best\ntheaters and moving pictures--who ought to know better. Nothing looks\nworse than riding clothes made and worn badly, and nothing looks smarter\nthan they when well made and well put on.\n\nA riding habit, no matter what the fashion happens to be, is like a\nuniform, in that it must be made and worn according to regulations. It\nmust above all be meticulously trig and compact. Nothing must be sticking\nout a thousandth part of an inch that can be flattened in.\n\nA riding habit is the counterpart of an officer's uniform; it is not worn\nso as to make the wearer look pretty! A woman to look well in a habit must\nbe smart or she is a sight! And nothing contributes so much to the\n\"sights\" we see at present as the attempt to look pretty instead of\nlooking correct. The criticism is not intended for the woman who lives far\noff in the open country and jumps on a horse in whatever she happens to\nhave on, but for those who dress \"for looks\" and ride in the parks of our\ncities, or walk on the stage and before the camera, in scenes meant to\nrepresent smart society!\n\nTo repeat, therefore, the young woman who wants to look pretty should\nconfine her exercise to dancing. She can also hold a parasol over her head\nand sit in a canoe--or she can be pretty how and where she will, so long\nas it is not on a horse in the park or hunting-field. (To mention\nhunting-field is superfluous; the woman who can ride well enough to\nfollow the hounds is too good a sportswoman, too great a lover of good\nform to be ignorant of the proper outline necessary to smartness of\nappearance in the saddle.)\n\nIn smartest English society it is not considered best form for a young\ngirl to ride astride in the hunting-field or in the park after she is\ngrown. A high-born English girl rides astride as a child, but as soon as\nshe is old enough to be presented at Court, she appears at a Meet or in\nthe \"Row\" in a lady's habit, trigly perfect in fit, and on a side-saddle.\nIn America this is an extreme opinion, and it is only among the most\nfashionable that a young girl having all her life ridden in a man's\nsaddle, finds the world a joyless place and parents cruel when she is no\nlonger allowed to ride like a boy. But she becomes, in spite of her\nprotests, \"another who looks divine on a horse.\" And you can look divine\ntoo, if you choose! On second thoughts the adjective must be qualified. No\none looks divine on a horse who is not thin as a shingle. But since diet\nproduces a shingle shape and every one strong-minded (or vain) enough, can\ndiet, you need only care enough to \"count your calories\" and be as slim as\nyou please.\n\nNext, the best habit possible. And best habits are expensive, and there\nare no \"second best.\" A habit is good or it is bad. Whatever the present\nfashion may be, have your habit utterly conventional. Don't wear checks or\nhave slant pockets, or eccentric cuffs or lapels; don't have the waist\npinched in. Choose a plain dark or \"dust\" color. A night blue that has a\nfew white hairs in the mixture does not show dust as much as a solid dark\ncolor, and a medium weight close material holds its shape better than a\nlight loose weave.\n\nYou may wear a single white carnation or a few violets in your\nbuttonhole--but no other trimming. Keep the idea of perfect clothes for\nmen in mind, get nothing that the smartest man would not wear, and you\ncan't go wrong. Get boots like those of a man, low-heeled and with a\nstraight line from heel to back of top. Don't have the tops wider than\nabsolutely necessary not to bind, and don't have them curved or fancy in\nshape. Be sure that there is no elbow sticking out like a horse's hock at\nthe back of the boot, and don't have a corner on the inside edge of the\nsole. And don't try to wear a small size!\n\n\n=WHEN YOU PUT YOUR HABIT ON=\n\nFirst, hair: Never mind if you look like Mme. Recamier with your hair\nfluffed and like a skinned rabbit with it tight back, tight, flat back it\nmust go. Brush it smooth as you can, braid it or coil it about level with\nthe top of your ears and wind it in a door mat, not a knob in the back.\n\nIf you have a great quantity of hair, you should take all the inner part\nof it, coil it on top of your head so it will go under your hat out of the\nway. Then take the outer edge of it and braid or wind it as flat as\npossible. A large bun at the back of the head is almost as bad as hair\ndrawn over the ears at the side. If you have short hairs likely to blow,\nyou must wear a hunting hair net. And if it is bobbed, it must be drawn\nback into a silk riding net and made to look trim.\n\nCorrect riding clothes are not fashion but form! Whether coat skirts are\nlong or short, full or plain, and waists wasp-like or square, the above\nadmonitions have held for many decades, and are likely to hold for many\nmore.\n\nGloves must be of heavy leather and at least two sizes bigger than those\nordinarily worn.\n\nA hat must fit the head and its shape must be conventional. Never wear a\nhat that would be incorrect on a man, and don't wear it on the back of\nyour head or over your nose.\n\nWear your stock as tight as you comfortably can, not _too_ tight! Tie it\nsmartly so as to make it flat and neat, and anchor whatever you wear so\nsecurely that nothing can possibly come loose.\n\nAnd if you want to see a living example of perfection in riding clothes,\ngo to the next horse-show where Miss Belle Beach is riding and look at\nher!\n\n\n=WHAT CLOTHES TO TAKE FOR A WEEK-END=\n\nUnless fashion turns itself upside down (which it is, of course, perfectly\ncapable of doing), elaborate clothes, except evening ones, are entirely\nuseless, even in Newport. We have all of us abandoned Paris fashions for\ncountry wear in favor of those of England. The Valenciennes insertions and\ntrailing chiffons of some years ago, still seen at watering-places in\nFrance, have been entirely superseded by country clothes.\n\nIn going to any fashionable house in the country, you should take a dinner\ndress for each evening, with stockings and slippers to match. You need a\ncountry dress for each day, or if the weather is uncertain, a thick one\nand two thin ones, with a long coat, and a dress suitable for church. This\none can perfectly well be a country dress, but not a \"sports\" one.\n\nIf you are not too young and are going to stay in an informal house where\nyou will probably be the only guest, and where it is likely no one will be\nasked in, a tea-gown or two should be taken.\n\nIf you are going especially for a ball, but not given by your hostess,\nneedless to say, you take a ball dress and an evening wrap. In the autumn\nor winter, a fur coat will do double service for coat and wrap.\n\nDo not take a big trunk full of all the things you don't need. Don't take\nsports clothes for all occasions if you are not a sportswoman. But if you\ndo ride, or play tennis or golf, or skate or swim, be sure to take your\nown clothes and _don't_ borrow other people's. There are plenty of\ningeniously arranged week-end trunks, very compact in size, that have a\nhat compartment, holding from two to six hats, and plenty of room for a\nhalf a dozen dresses and their accessories.\n\n\n=WHEN THE INCOME IS LIMITED=\n\nNo one can dress well on nothing a year; that must be granted at the\noutset. But a woman who has talent, taste, and ingenuity can be suitably\nand charmingly dressed on little a year, especially at present.\n\nFirst of all, to mind wearing a dress many times because it indicates a\nsmall bank account, is to exhibit a false notion of the values in life.\nAny one who thinks well or ill of her, in accordance with her income, can\nnot be too quickly got rid of! But worthwhile people _are_ influenced in\nher disfavor when she has clothes in number and quality out of proportion\nto her known financial situation.\n\nIt is tiresome everlastingly to wear black, but nothing is so serviceable,\nnothing so unrecognizable, nothing looks so well on every occasion. A very\nstriking dress can not be worn many times without making others as well as\nits owner feel bored at the sight of it. \"Here comes the Zebra\" or \"the\nCockatoo!\" is inevitable if a dress of stripes or flamboyant color is worn\noften. She who must wear one dress through a season and have it perhaps\nmade over the next, would better choose black or cream color. Or perhaps a\ncertain color suits her, and this fact makes it possible for her\nhabitually to wear it without impressing others with her lack of clothes.\nBut whether her background be black or cerise it should invariably blend\nwith her whole wardrobe, so that all accessories can be made to do double\nor quadruple service.\n\nSupposing you are a young woman with more beauty than wealth! Let us also\nsuppose you have three evening dresses, a blue, a pink and a green. At the\nmoment you can wear flesh-colored slippers and stockings with everything,\nwhich rather weakens the argument--however, a blue fan does not look well\nwith a pink or a green dress, nor do the other combinations. Supposing,\nhowever, you had instead a cream-colored dress, a flesh-colored, and an\norchid one. Flesh-colored slippers look much better with cream and orchid\nthan with either green or blue, at any rate! A watermelon pink fan is\nlovely in night-light with all three; so is a cream one. Or perhaps by\nchanging both fan and slippers, a different effect is produced, since the\ncolors of your clothes are background colors.\n\nBut nothing really can compare with the utility and smartness of black.\nTake a black tulle dress, made in the simplest possible way; worn plain,\nit is a simple dinner dress. It can have a lace slip to go over it, and\nmake another dress. With a jet harness--meaning merely trimming that can\nbe added at will--it is still another dress. Or it can have a tunic of\nsilver or of gold trimming; and fans, flowers and slippers in various\ncolors, such as watermelon or emerald, change it again. In fact, a black\ntulle can be changed almost as easily as though done with a magician's\nwand.\n\nTo choose daytime clothes that go with the same hats, shoes, parasols,\nwrist-bags, and gloves, is equally important. A snuff-colored dress and a\ngray one need entirely different accessories. Russet shoes, chamois\ngloves, and sand-colored hat go also with henna, raspberry, reds, etc.;\nbut gray must have gray or white shoes, gloves, and hat, which also go\nwith blues, greens and violets.\n\n\n=DON'T GET TOO MANY CLOTHES=\n\nChoose the clothes which you must have, carefully, and if you must cut\ndown, cut down on elaborate ones. There is scarcely anywhere that you can\nnot, fittingly go in plain clothes. Very few, if any, people _need_ fancy\nthings; all people need plain ones.\n\nA very beautiful Chicago woman who is always perfectly dressed for every\noccasion, worked out the cost of her own clothes this way: On a sheet of\npaper, thumb-tacked on the inside of her closet door, she put a complete\ntypewritten list of her dresses and hats, and the cost of each. Every time\nshe put on a dress she made a pencil mark. By and by when a dress was\ndiscarded, she divided the cost of it by the number of times it had been\nworn. In this way she found out accurately which were her cheapest and\nwhich her most expensive clothes. When getting new ones she has the\nadvantage of very valuable information, since she avoids the dress that is\nnever put on, which is a bigger handicap for the medium-sized allowance\nthan many women realize.\n\n\n=WHAT TO WEAR IN A RESTAURANT=\n\nRestaurant dress depends upon the restaurant and the city. Because women\nin New York wear low-necked dresses and no hats, does not mean that those\nwho live in New Town should do the same, if it is not New Town's custom.\nBut you must _never_ wear an evening dress and a hat! And _never_ wear a\nday dress without one. If in the city where you live, people wear day\nclothes in the evening, you can only very slightly differ from them.\n\nIt is never good form to be elaborately dressed in a public place, except\nin a box at the opera or at a charity ball.\n\n\n=AT A WEDDING, A GARDEN PARTY OR AFTERNOON TEA=\n\nThese are the occasions when elaborate day dresses are appropriate. But if\nyou have very few clothes, you can perfectly well wear any sort of day\ndress that may be in fashion. A coat and skirt is not appropriate, since a\nskirt and shirt-waist is and always has been a utility combination.\nUnless, of course, the waist is of a color to match the skirt so that it\nhas the appearance of a dress.\n\nYou need, however, seldom worry about your appearance because you are not\nas \"dressed\" as the others; the time to worry is when you are more dressed\nthan any one else.\n\nFor a garden-party a country dress is quite all right; though if you have\na very elaborate summer dress, this is the only time you can wear it!\n\nNo one has to be told what to wear to church. In small country churches,\nat the seashore, people go to church in country clothes; otherwise, as\nevery one knows, one puts on \"town\" clothes, and gloves.\n\nAt a formal luncheon in town, one sees every sort of dress from velvet to\ntailor-made. Certain ladies, older ones usually, who like elaborate\nclothes, wear them. But younger people are usually dressed in worsted\nmaterials or silks that are dull in finish, and that, although they may be\nembroidered and very expensive, give an effect of simplicity. One should\nalways wear a simpler dress in one's own house than one wears in going to\nthe house of another.\n\n\n=A FEW GENERAL REMARKS=\n\nThe fault of bad taste is usually in over-dressing. Quality not effect, is\nthe standard to seek for. Machine-made passementerie on top of conspicuous\nbut sleazy material is always shoddy. Cut and fit are the two items of\ngreatest importance in women's clothes, as well as in men's. But fashion\nchanges too rapidly to make value of material always wise expenditure for\none of slender purse. Better usually have two dresses, each cut and made\nin the whim of the moment, than one which must be worn after the whim has\nbecome a freak. In men's clothes the opposite rule should be followed\nsince good style in men's clothes is unchanging.\n\nTo buy things at sales is very much like buying things at an auction; if\nyou really know what you want and something about values, you can often do\nmarvellously well; but if you are easily bewildered and know little of\nvalues, you are apt to spend your good money on trash. A woman of small\nmeans must either be (or learn to be) discriminatingly careful, or she\nwould better have her clothes made at home, or if she is of \"model\" type,\nbuy them ready-made. The ready-to-wear clothes in the Misses' Department\nare growing every year better looking; unfortunately and for some\ninexplicable reason, the usual Women's Department does not compare in good\ntaste in selection of models with the former, and it is unusual to find a\ndress that a lady of fashion would choose except among the imported\nmodels, for which store prices are as a rule higher than those asked by\nthe greatest dressmakers. Evening clothes are still usually unbuyable by\nthe over-fastidious, except for a certain flapper type (and an\nundistinguished one at that!), and the ultra-smart woman is still obliged\nto go to the private importers for her d\u00e9butante daughter's ball-dresses\nas well as her own--or else into her own sewing-room.\n\n\n=FASHION AND FAT=\n\nFor years the thin, even the scrawny, have had everything their own way.\nThe woman who is fat, or even plump, has a rather hopeless problem unless\nfashion goes to Turkey for its next inspiration, which is so unlikely it\nis almost possible! Two things the fat woman should avoid: big patterns\nand the stiff tailor-made. Fat women look better in feminine clothes that\nfollow in the wake, never in the advance, of modified fashion. Fat women\nshould never wear elaborate clothes or clothes in light colors or heavily\nfeathered hats.\n\nThe tendency of fat is to take away from one's gracility; therefore, any\none inclined to be fat must be ultra conservative--in order to counteract\nthe effect. Very tight clothes make fat people look fatter and thin people\nthinner. Satin is a bad material, since high lights are too shimmeringly\naccentuated.\n\nHeavy ankles, needless to say, should never be clothed in light stockings\nand dark shoes; long, pointed slippers accentuate a thick ankle, and so\ndoes a short skirt that has a straight hem. A \"ragged\" edge is most\nflattering. Dress, stockings and slippers to match are unavoidable in\nevening dress, but when possible a thick ankle should have a dark\nstocking--or at least a slipper to match the stocking.\n\nPeople should select colors that go with their skin. And elderly women\nshould not wear grass green, or Royal blue, or purple, or any hard color\nthat needs a faultless complexion. Swarthy skin always looks better in\ncolors that have red or yellow in them. A very sallow person in pale blue\nor apple green looks like a well-developed case of jaundice.\n\nPink and orchid are often very becoming to older women; and pale blue or\nyellow to those with fair skin. Because a woman is no longer young is no\nreason why she should wear perpetual black--unless she is fat.\n\n\n=CLOTHES FOR TRAVELING IN EUROPE=\n\nIdeal traveling clothes are those which do not wrinkle or show rain spots;\nand to find which these are it is necessary to take a sample of each\nmaterial, sprinkle it with water, and twist it to see how much abuse it\nwill stand. Every woman knows what she likes best, and what she considers\nsuitable. Two alternating traveling dresses at least will be necessary,\nand two or three semi-evening dresses to put on for dinner. One very\nsimple half-dinner dress of black, that has a combination of trimmings\nsuch as described earlier in this chapter, is ideally useful. Tourists do\nnot put on evening clothes except in very fashionable centers, such as\nLondon, Paris, Monte Carlo or Deauville, and then only if staying at an\nultra fashionable hotel. To be over-dressed is always in bad taste. So\nthat unless you are going to visit or make several-day stops the one black\nevening dress suggested would answer every possible purpose.\n\nIf you intend staying for a long time in one place, you take all of your\nseason's clothes; and if you are going to visit in England, or to stay\nanywhere in the country, you will need country clothes, but not on\nordinary touring. For motoring, space is precious, and clothes should be\nchosen with the object of packing into small dimensions. Motoring in\nEurope is cold. A very warm, long wrap is necessary. An old fur one is\nmuch the best, and a small, close hat that does not blow.\n\n\n=CLOTHES AND PARIS=\n\nIt is something like this: You have been hypnotized before, and you vow\nyou won't be again! You make up your mind that you are going to get a\nblack dress and a dark blue--and nothing else.\n\nYou enter the lower reception hall and mount the bronze balustraded stairs\nhalf way when already Mlle. Marie is aware of your approach. She greets\nyou not only as though you are the only customer she has ever had, but as\nthough your coming has saved--just saved in time--the prestige of the\nhouse.\n\nShe tells you breathlessly that you are just in time to see the parade of\nmodels; she puts you where you may have an uninterrupted view. She then\nbegins her greetings all over again by asking not alone after all the\nmembers of your family and an extraordinarily long list of friends, but\nmakes a solicitous inquiry after each dress that she has ever sold you.\n\"Did Madame like her white velvet?\" she coos. \"Was it not most useful? Was\nnot her black lace charming? And the bisque cloth--surely Madame had found\ngreat satisfaction in wearing the bisque cloth?\" But your ears are as\nstone to her blandishments! As a traveling suit, bisque-colored cloth had\nnot been serviceable! Black lace with a cerise velvet under petticoat\nmight be effective at Armenonville, but it had seemed queer, to say the\nleast, at the tennis match in August. No, you are at last immune from any\nof those sudden attacks of new fashion fever that result in loss of\njudgment. You open your little book and consult your list.\n\n\"I should like,\" you say, \"a navy blue serge trimmed with black braid or\nsatin or something like that; a black cr\u00eape de chine absolutely plain; I\nreally need nothing else.\"\n\nYou do not look at Mile. Marie's crestfallen face, you watch the\nprocession of models. But the old spell works. Besides zebra stripes and\ngold shot with cerise and purple, you think an emerald green charmeuse is\nreally a perfect substitute for the plain black cr\u00eape de chine you had in\nmind. You show that you are hypnotized by remarking absently, \"It is the\ncolor of the grass.\"\n\nInstantly, Mlle. Marie, the most skillful _vendeuse_ in Paris, becomes\nradiant. \"Listen, Madame,\" she says to you in that insinuating,\nconfidential, yet humbly ingratiating manner of hers. \"Let me explain,\nMadame,--the idea of dress this year is altogether idyllic! Never has\nthere been such charming return to nature. The great originator of our\nhouse has taken his suggestion--but yes! from the little animals of the\nfields and woods--from Nature herself! Our dresses this year are intended\nto follow the example of all the little animals dressed to match their\nbackgrounds. Is not that thought exquisite? Is not that delicious? Is an\nemerald lizard conspicuous in the tropics? Is a zebra even seen in patches\nof sun and shade? And in the snow, think of all the little animals who put\non white coats in winter! Obviously white is the color intended for winter\nwear. And for the spring, green. Emerald green assuredly. It is as Madame\nherself said, the color of the grass. The emerald charmeuse on a lawn in\nsummer would be a poem of harmony. The cerise for afternoons at sunset;\nthis orange shading into coral embroidery to wear beside the fire. The\ndark blue chiffon embroidered in silver is for night. All the colors that\nMadame at first found so bright--they are but the colors of a summer\nflower garden. What would Madame wear in a flower garden? Black cr\u00eape de\nchine? Assuredly not! See this shell pink chiffon, how lovely it would\nlook under trees of apple blossoms. Blue serge! Oh, what an escape. And\nnow if Madame will permit me to suggest?--the green, but assuredly! and\nthe orange and coral, and the pink chiffon garden dress, and the zebra,\nfor travelling, and the blue and silver....\"\n\nHowever, to be serious, people do go to Paris and buy their\nclothes--beautiful clothes! Of course they do; especially those who go\nevery year. But the woman who goes abroad perhaps every four or five years\nis apt to be deficient in a trans-Atlantic sense. \"Match backgrounds, like\ncharming little animals?\" Never! Oh, a very big Never Again! And yet the\nnext time shall you not find it a temptation to go just out of curiosity\nto find out what the newest artfully enticing little tune of the Pied\nPipers of Paris will be!\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIV\n\nTHE CLOTHES OF A GENTLEMAN\n\n\nIt would seem that some of our great clothing establishments, with an eye\nto our polyglot ancestry, have attempted to incorporate some feature of\nevery European national costume into a \"harmonious\" whole, and have thus\ngiven us that abiding horror, the freak American suit. You will see it\neverywhere, on Broadway of every city and Main Street of every town, on\nthe boardwalks and beaches of coast resorts, and even in remote farming\nvillages. It comes up to hit you in the face year after year in all its\namazing variations: waist-line under the arm pits, \"trick\" little belts,\nwhat-nots in the cuffs; trousers so narrow you fear they will burst before\nyour eyes, pockets placed in every position, buttons clustered together in\na tight little row or reduced to one. And the worst of it is, few of our\nyounger men know any better until they go abroad and find their wardrobe a\nsubject for jest and derision.\n\nIf you would dress like a gentleman, you must do one of two things; either\nstudy the subject of a gentleman's wardrobe until you are competent to\npick out good suits from freaks and direct your misguided tailor, or, at\nleast until your perceptions are trained, go to an English one. This\nlatter method is the easiest, and, by all odds, the safest. It is not\nAnglomania but plain common sense to admit that, just as the Rue de la\nPaix in Paris is the fountainhead of fashions for women, Bond Street in\nLondon is the home of irreproachable clothes for men.\n\nAnd yet, curiously enough, just as a woman shopping in Paris can buy\nfrightful clothes--or the most beautiful; a man can in America buy the\nworst clothes in the world--and the best.\n\nThe ordinary run of English clothes may not be especially good, but they\nare, on the other hand, never bad; whereas American freak clothes are\ndistortions like the reflections seen in the convex and concave mirrors of\nthe amusement parks. But not even the leading tailors of Bond Street can\nexcel the supremely good American tailor--whose clothes however are\nidentical in every particular with those of London, and their right to be\ncalled \"best\" is for greater perfection of workmanship and fit. This last\nis a dangerous phrase; \"fit\" means perfect set and line, not plaster\ntightness.\n\nHowever, let us suppose that you are either young, or at least fairly\nyoung; that you have unquestioned social position, and that you are going\nto get yourself an entire wardrobe. Let us also suppose your money is not\nunlimited, so that it may also be seen where you may not, or may if\nnecessary, economize.\n\n\n=FORMAL EVENING CLOTHES=\n\nYour full dress is the last thing to economize on. It must be perfect in\nfit, cut and material, and this means a first-rate tailor. It must be made\nof a dull-faced worsted, either black or night blue, on no account of\nbroadcloth. Aside from satin facing and collar, which can have lapels or\nbe cut shawl-shaped, and wide braid on the trousers, it must have no\ntrimming whatever. Avoid satin or velvet cuffs, moir\u00e9 neck ribbons and\nfancy coat buttons as you would the plague.\n\nWear a plain white linen waistcoat, not one of cream colored silk, or\nfigured or even black brocade. Have all your linen faultlessly\nclean--always--and your tie of plain white lawn, tied so it will not only\nstay in place but look as though nothing short of a backward somersault\ncould disarrange it.\n\nYour handkerchief must be white; gloves (at opera or ball) white; flower\nin buttonhole (if any) white. If you are a normal size, you can in America\nbuy inexpensive shirts, and white waistcoats that are above reproach, but\nif you are abnormally tall or otherwise an \"out size\" so that everything\nhas to be \"made to order,\" you will have to pay anywhere from double to\nfour times as much for each article you put on.\n\nWhen you go out on the street, wear an English silk hat, not one of the\ntaper crowned variety popular in the \"movies.\" And wear it on your head,\nnot on the back of your neck. Have your overcoat of plain black or dark\nblue material, for you must wear an overcoat with full dress even in\nsummer. Use a plain white or black and white muffler. Colored ones are\nimpossible. Wear white buckskin gloves if you can afford them; otherwise\ngray or khaki doeskin, and leave them in your overcoat pocket. Your stick\nshould be of plain Malacca or other wood, with either a crooked or\nstraight handle. The only ornamentation allowable is a plain silver or\ngold band, or top; but perfectly plain is best form.\n\nAnd lastly, wear patent leather pumps, shoes or ties, and plain black silk\nsocks, and leave your rubbers--if you must wear them, in the coat room.\n\n\n=THE TUXEDO=\n\nThe Tuxedo, which is the essential evening dress of a gentleman, is simply\nthe English dinner coat. It was first introduced in this country at the\nTuxedo Club to provide something less formal than the swallow-tail, and\nthe name has clung ever since. To a man who can not afford to get two\nsuits of evening clothes, the Tuxedo is of greater importance. It is worn\nevery evening and nearly everywhere, whereas the tail coat is necessary\nonly at balls, formal dinners, and in a box at the opera. Tuxedo clothes\nare made of the same materials and differ from full dress ones in only\nthree particulars: the cut of the coat, the braid on the trousers, and the\nuse of a black tie instead of a white one. The dinner coat has no tails\nand is cut like a sack suit except that it is held closed in front by one\nbutton at the waist line. (A full dress coat, naturally, hangs open.) The\nlapels are satin faced, and the collar left in cloth, or if it is\nshawl-shaped the whole collar is of satin.\n\nThe trousers are identical with full dress ones except that braid, if\nused at all, should be narrow. \"Cuffed\" trousers are not good form, nor\nshould a dinner coat be double-breasted.\n\nFancy ties are bad form. Choose a plain black silk or satin one. Wear a\nwhite waistcoat if you can afford the strain on your laundry bill,\notherwise a plain black one. By no means wear a gray one nor a gray tie.\n\nThe smartest hat for town wear is an opera, but a straw or felt which is\nproper in the country, is not out of place in town. Otherwise, in the\nstreet the accessories are the same as those already given under the\nprevious heading.\n\n\n=THE HOUSE SUIT=\n\nThe house suit is an extravagance that may be avoided, and an \"old\" Tuxedo\nsuit worn instead.\n\nA gentleman is always supposed to change his clothes for dinner, whether\nhe is going out or dining at home alone or with his family, and for this\nlatter occasion some inspired person evolved the house, or lounge, suit,\nwhich is simply a dinner coat and trousers cut somewhat looser than\nordinary evening ones, made of an all-silk or silk and wool fabric in some\ndark color, and lined with either satin or silk. Nothing more\ncomfortable--or luxurious--could be devised for sitting in a deep\neasy-chair after dinner, in a reclining position that is ruinous to best\nevening clothes.\n\nIts purpose is really to save wear on evening clothes, and to avoid some\nof their discomfort also, because they can not be given hard or careless\nusage and long survive. A house suit is distinctly what the name implies,\nand is not an appropriate garment to wear out for dinner or to receive any\nbut intimate guests in at home. The accessories are a pleated shirt, with\nturndown stiff collar, and black bow tie, or even an unstarched shirt with\ncollar attached (white of course). The coat is made with two buttons\ninstead of one, because no waistcoat is worn with it.\n\n\n=FORMAL AFTERNOON DRESS=\n\nFormal afternoon dress consists of a black cutaway coat with white piqu\u00e9\nor black cloth waistcoat, and gray-and-black striped trousers. The coat\nmay be bound with braid, or, even in better taste, plain. A satin-faced\nlapel is not conservative on a cutaway, but it is the correct facing for\nthe more formal (and elderly) frock coat. Either a cutaway or a frock coat\nis always accompanied by a silk hat, and best worn with plain black\nwaistcoat and a black bow tie or a black and white four-in-hand tie. A\ngray silk ascot worn with the frock coat is supposed to be the correct\nwedding garment of the bride's father. (For details of clothes worn by\ngroom and ushers at a wedding, see chapter on weddings.)\n\nShoes may be patent leather, although black calfskin are at present the\nfashion, either with or without spats. If with spats, be sure that they\nfit close; nothing is worse than a wrinkled spat or one that sticks out\nover the instep like the opened bill of a duck!\n\nThough gray cutaway suits and gray top hats have always been worn to the\nraces in England, they do not seem suitable here, as races in America are\nnot such full-dress occasions as in France and England. But at a spring\nwedding or other formal occasions a sand-colored double-breasted linen\nwaistcoat with spats and bow tie to match looks very well with a black\ncutaway and almost black trousers, on a man who is young.\n\n\n=THE BUSINESS SUIT=\n\nThe business suit or three-piece sack is made or marred by its cut alone.\nIt is supposed to be an every-day inconspicuous garment and should be. A\nfew rules to follow are:\n\nDon't choose striking patterns of materials; suitable woolen stuffs come\nin endless variety, and any which look plain at a short distance are\n\"safe,\" though they may show a mixture of colors or pattern when viewed\nclosely.\n\nDon't get too light a blue, too bright a green, or anything suggesting a\nhorse blanket. At the present moment trousers are made with a cuff;\nsleeves are not. Lapels are moderately small. Padded shoulders are an\nabomination. Peg-topped trousers equally bad. If you must be eccentric,\nsave your efforts for the next fancy dress ball, where you may wear what\nyou please, but in your business clothing be reasonable.\n\nAbove everything, don't wear white socks, and don't cover yourself with\nchains, fobs, scarf pins, lodge emblems, etc., and don't wear \"horsey\"\nshirts and neckties. You will only make a bad impression on every one you\nmeet. The clothes of a gentleman are always conservative; and it is safe\nto avoid everything than can possibly come under the heading of \"novelty.\"\n\n\n=JEWELRY=\n\nIn your jewelry let diamonds be conspicuous by their absence. Nothing is\nmore vulgar than a display of \"ice\" on a man's shirt front, or on his\nfingers.\n\nThere is a good deal of jewelry that a gentleman may be allowed to wear,\nbut it must be chosen with discrimination. Pearl shirt-studs (real ones)\nare correct for full dress only, and not to be worn with a dinner coat\nunless they are so small as to be entirely inconspicuous. Otherwise you\nmay wear enamel studs (that look like white linen) or black onyx with a\nrim of platinum, or with a very inconspicuous pattern in diamond chips,\nbut so tiny that they can not be told from a threadlike design in\nplatinum--or others equally moderate.\n\nWaistcoat buttons, studs and cuff links, worn in sets, is an American\ncustom that is permissible. Both waistcoat buttons and cuff links may be\njewelled and valuable, but they must not have big precious stones or be\nconspicuous.\n\nA watch chain should be very thin and a man's ring is usually a seal ring\nof plain gold or a dark stone. If a man wears a jewel at all it should be\nsunk into a plain \"gypsy hoop\" setting that has no ornamentation, and worn\non his \"little,\" not his third, finger.\n\n\n=IN THE COUNTRY=\n\nGay-colored socks and ties are quite appropriate with flannels or golf\ntweeds. Only in your riding clothes you must again be conservative. If you\ncan get boots built on English lines, wear them; otherwise wear leggings.\nAnd remember that all leather must be real leather in the first place and\npolished until its surface is like glass.\n\nHave your breeches fit you. The coat is less important, in fact, any odd\ncoat will do. Your legs are the cynosure of attention in riding.\n\nMost men in the country wear knickerbockers with golf stockings, with a\nsack or a belted or a semi-belted coat, and in any variety of homespuns or\ntweeds or rough worsted materials. Or they wear long trousered flannels.\nCoats are of the polo or ulster variety. For golf or tennis many men wear\nsweater coats. Shirts are of cheviot or silk or flannel, all with soft\ncollars attached and to match.\n\nThe main thing is to dress appropriately. If you are going to play golf,\nwear golf clothes; if tennis, wear flannels. Do not wear a yachting cap\nashore unless you are living on board a yacht.\n\nWhite woolen socks are correct with white buckskin shoes in the country,\nbut not in town.\n\nIf some semi-formal occasion comes up, such as a country tea, the\ntime-worn conservative blue coat with white flannel trousers is\nperennially good.\n\n\n=OTHER HINTS=\n\nThe well-dressed man is always a paradox. He must look as though he gave\nhis clothes no thought and as though literally they grew on him like a\ndog's fur, and yet he must be perfectly groomed. He must be close-shaved\nand have his hair cut and his nails in good order (not too polished). His\nlinen must always be immaculate, his clothes \"in press,\" his shoes\nperfectly \"done.\" His brown shoes must shine like old mahogany, and his\nwhite buckskin must be whitened and polished like a prize bull terrier at\na bench show. Ties and socks and handkerchief may go together, but too\nperfect a match betrays an effort for \"effect\" which is always bad.\n\nThe well-dressed man never wears the same suit or the same pair of shoes\ntwo days running. He may have only two suits, but he wears them\nalternately; if he has four suits he should wear each every fourth day.\nThe longer time they have \"to recover\" their shape, the better.\n\n\n=WHAT TO WEAR ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS=\n\nThe appropriate clothes for various occasions are given below. If ever in\ndoubt what to wear, the best rule is to err on the side of informality.\nThus, if you are not sure whether to put on your dress suit or your\nTuxedo, wear the latter.\n\n\n=FULL DRESS=\n\n1. At the opera.\n2. At an evening wedding.\n3. At a dinner to which the invitations are worded in the third person.\n4. At a ball, or formal evening entertainment.\n5. At certain State functions on the Continent of Europe in broad daylight.\n\n\n=TUXEDO=\n\n1. At the theater.\n2. At most dinners.\n3. At informal parties.\n4. Dining at home.\n5. Dining in a restaurant.\n\n\n=A CUTAWAY OR FROCK COAT WITH STRIPED TROUSERS=\n\n1. At a noon or afternoon wedding.\n2. On Sunday for church (in the city).\n3. At any formal daytime function.\n4. In England to business.\n5. As usher at a wedding.\n6. As pall-bearer.\n\n\n=BUSINESS SUITS=\n\n1. All informal daytime occasions.\n2. Traveling.\n3. The coat of a blue suit with white flannel or duck trousers for a\n   lunch, or to church, in the country.\n4. A blue or black sack suit will do in place of a cutaway at a wedding,\nbut not if you are the groom or an usher.\n\n\n=COUNTRY CLOTHES=\n\n1. _Only_ in the country.\n\nTo wear odd tweed coats and flannel trousers in town is not only\ninappropriate, but bad taste.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXV\n\nTHE KINDERGARTEN OF ETIQUETTE\n\n\nIn the houses of the well-to-do where the nursery is in charge of a woman\nof refinement who is competent to teach little children proper behavior,\nthey are never allowed to come to table in the dining-room until they have\nlearned at least the elements of good manners. But whether in a big house\nof this description, or in a small house where perhaps the mother alone\nmust be the teacher, children can scarcely be too young to be taught the\nrudiments of etiquette, nor can the teaching be too patiently or too\nconscientiously carried out.\n\nTraining a child is exactly like training a puppy; a little heedless\ninattention and it is out if hand immediately; the great thing is not to\nlet it acquire bad habits that must afterward be broken. Any child can be\ntaught to be beautifully behaved with no effort greater than quiet\npatience and perseverance, whereas to break bad habits once they are\nacquired is a Herculean task.\n\n\n=ELEMENTARY TABLE MANNERS=\n\nSince a very little child can not hold a spoon properly, and as neatness\nis the first requisite in table-manners, it should be allowed to hold its\nspoon as it might take hold of a bar in front of it, back of the hand up,\nthumb closed over fist. The pusher (a small flat piece of silver at right\nangles to a handle) is held in the same way, in the left hand. Also in the\nfirst eating lessons, a baby must be allowed to put a spoon in its mouth,\npointed end foremost. Its first lessons must be to take small mouthfuls,\nto eat very slowly, to spill nothing, to keep the mouth shut while chewing\nand not smear its face over. In drinking, a child should use both hands to\nhold a mug or glass until its hand is big enough so it can easily hold a\nglass in one. When it can eat without spilling anything or smearing its\nlips, and drink without making grease \"moons\" on its mug or tumbler (by\nalways wiping its mouth before drinking), it may be allowed to come to\ntable in the dining-room as a treat, for Sunday lunch or breakfast. Or if\nit has been taught by its mother at table, she can relax her attention\nsomewhat from its progress. Girls are usually daintier and more easily\ntaught than boys, but most children will behave badly at table if left to\ntheir own devices. Even though they may commit no serious offenses, such\nas making a mess of their food or themselves, or talking with their mouths\nfull, all children love to crumb bread, flop this way and that in their\nchairs, knock spoons and forks together, dawdle over their food, feed\nanimals--if any are allowed in the room--or become restless and noisy.\n\nOnce graduated to the dining-room, any reversion to such tactics must be\nfirmly reprehended, and the child should understand that continued offense\nmeans a return to the nursery. But before company it is best to say as\nlittle as possible, since too much nagging in the presence of strangers\nlessens a child's incentive to good behavior before them. If it refuses to\nbehave nicely, much the best thing to do is to say nothing, but get up and\nquietly lead it from the table back to the nursery. It is not only bad for\nthe child but annoying to a guest to continue instructions before\n\"company,\" and the child learns much more quickly to be well-behaved if it\nunderstands that good behavior is the price of admission to grown-up\nsociety. A word or two such as, \"Don't lean on the table, darling,\" or\n\"pay attention to what you are doing, dear,\" should suffice. But a child\nthat is noisy, that reaches out to help itself to candy or cake, that\ninterrupts the conversation, that eats untidily has been allowed to leave\nthe nursery before it has been properly graduated.\n\nTable manners must, of course, proceed slowly in exactly the same way that\nany other lessons proceed in school. Having learned when a baby to use the\nnursery implements of spoon and pusher, the child, when it is a little\nolder, discards them for the fork, spoon and knife.\n\n\n=THE PROPER USE OF THE FORK=\n\nAs soon, therefore, as his hand is dexterous enough, the child must be\ntaught to hold his fork, no longer gripped baby-fashion in his fist, but\nmuch as a pencil is held in writing; only the fingers are placed nearer\nthe \"top\" than the \"point,\" the thumb and two first fingers are closed\naround the handle two-thirds of the way up the shank, and the food is\ntaken up shovel-wise on the turned-up prongs. At first his little fingers\nwill hold his fork stiffly, but as he grows older his fingers will become\nmore flexible just as they will in holding his pencil. If he finds it hard\nwork to shovel his food, he can, for a while, continue to use his nursery\npusher. By and by the pusher is changed for a small piece of bread, which\nis held in his left hand and between thumb and first two fingers, and\nagainst which the fork shovels up such elusive articles as corn, peas,\npoached egg, etc.\n\n\n=THE SPOON=\n\nIn using the spoon, he holds it in his right hand like the fork. In eating\ncereal or dessert, he may be allowed to dip the bowl of the spoon toward\nhim and eat from the end, but in eating soup he must dip his spoon away\nfrom him--turning the outer rim of the bowl down as he does so--fill the\nbowl not more than three-quarters full and sip it, without noise, out of\nthe side (not the end) of the bowl. The reason why the bowl must not be\nfilled full is because it is impossible to lift a brimming spoonful of\nliquid to his mouth without spilling some, or in the case of porridge\nwithout filling his mouth too full. While still very young he may be\ntaught never to leave the spoon in a cup while drinking out of it, but\nafter stirring the cocoa, or whatever it is, to lay the spoon in the\nsaucer.\n\nA very ugly table habit, which seems to be an impulse among all children,\nis to pile a great quantity of food on a fork and then lick or bite it off\npiecemeal. This must on no account be permitted. It is perfectly correct,\nhowever, to sip a little at a time, of hot liquid from a spoon. In taking\nany liquid either from a spoon or drinking vessel, no noise must ever be\nmade.\n\n[Illustration: \"IN EATING SOUP THE CHILD MUST DIP HIS SPOON AWAY FROM\nHIM--TURNING THE OUTER RIM OF THE SPOON DOWN AS HE DOES SO....\" [Page\n573.]]\n\n[Illustration: \"IN BEING TAUGHT TO USE KNIFE AND FORK TOGETHER, THE CHILD\nSHOULD AT FIRST CUT ONLY SOMETHING VERY EASY, SUCH AS A SLICE OF\nCHICKEN....\" [Page 574.]]\n\n[Illustration: \"HAVING CUT OFF A MOUTHFUL, HE THRUSTS THE FORK THROUGH IT,\nWITH PRONGS POINTED DOWNWARD AND CONVEYS IT TO HIS MOUTH WITH HIS LEFT\nHAND. HE MUST LEARN TO CUT OFF AND EAT ONE MOUTHFUL AT A TIME.\" [Page\n574.]]\n\n[Illustration: \"WHEN NO KNIFE IS BEING USED, THE FORK IS HELD IN THE\nRIGHT HAND, WHETHER USED 'PRONGS DOWN' TO IMPALE THE MEAT, OR 'PRONGS UP'\nTO LIFT VEGETABLES.\" [Page 575.]]\n\n[Illustration: \"BREAD SHOULD ALWAYS BE BROKEN INTO SMALL PIECES WITH THE\nFINGERS BEFORE BEING BUTTERED.\" [Page 583.]]\n\n[Illustration: \"WHEN HE HAS FINISHED EATING, THE CHILD SHOULD LAY HIS\nKNIFE AND FORK CLOSE TOGETHER, SIDE BY SIDE, WITH HANDLES TOWARD THE RIGHT\nSIDE OF HIS PLATE....\" [Page 575.]]\n\n\n=THE FORK AND KNIFE TOGETHER=\n\nIn being taught to use his knife, the child should at first cut only\nsomething very easy, such as a slice of chicken; he should not attempt\nanything with bones or gristle, or anything that is tough. In his left\nhand is put his fork with the prongs downward, held near the top of the\nhandle. His index finger is placed on the shank so that it points to the\nprongs, and is supported at the side by his thumb. His other fingers close\nunderneath and hold the handle tight. He must never be allowed to hold his\nfork emigrant fashion, perpendicularly clutched in the clenched fist, and\nto saw across the food at its base with his knife.\n\n\n=THE KNIFE=\n\nThe knife is held in his right hand exactly as the fork is held in his\nleft, firmly and at the end of the handle, with the index finger pointing\ndown the back of the blade. In cutting he should learn not to scrape the\nback of the fork prongs with the cutting edge of the knife. Having cut off\na mouthful, he thrusts the fork through it, with prongs pointed downward\nand conveys it to his mouth with his left hand. He must learn to cut off\nand eat one mouthful at a time.\n\nIt is unnecessary to add that the knife must _never_ be put in his mouth;\nnor is it good form to use the knife unnecessarily. Soft foods, like\ncroquettes, hash on toast, all eggs and vegetables, should be cut or\nmerely broken apart with the edge of the fork held like the knife, after\nwhich the fork is turned in the hand to first (or shovel) position. The\nknife must never be used to scoop baked potato out of the skin, or to\nbutter potato. A fork must be used for all manipulations of vegetables;\nbutter for baked potatoes taken on the tip of the fork shovel fashion,\nlaid on the potato, and then pressed down and mixed with the prongs\nheld points curved up.\n\nWhen no knife is being used, the fork is held in the right hand, whether\nused \"prongs down\" to impale the meat or \"prongs up\" to lift vegetables.\n\nTo pile mashed potato and other vegetables on the convex side of the fork\non top of the meat for two or more inches of its length, is a disgusting\nhabit dear to school boys, and one that is more easily prevented than\ncorrected. In fact, taking a big mouthful (next to smearing his face and\nchewing with mouth open) is the worst offense at table.\n\nWhen he has finished eating, he should lay his knife and fork close\ntogether, side by side, with handles toward the right side of his plate,\nthe handles projecting an inch or two beyond the rim of the plate. They\nmust be placed far enough on the plate so that there is no danger of their\nover-balancing on to the table or floor when removed at the end of the\ncourse.\n\n\n=OTHER TABLE MATTERS=\n\nThe distance from the table at which it is best to sit, is a matter of\npersonal comfort. A child should not be allowed to be so close that his\nelbows are bent like a grasshopper's, nor so far back that food is apt to\nbe spilled in transit from plate to mouth. Children like to drink very\nlong and rapidly, all in one breath, until they are pink around the eyes,\nand are literally gasping. They also love to put their whole hands in\ntheir finger-bowls and wiggle their fingers.\n\nA baby of two, or at least by the time he is three, should be taught to\ndip the tips of his fingers in the finger-bowl, without playing, draw the\nfingers of the right hand across his mouth, and then wipe his lips and\nfingers on the apron of his bib.\n\nNo small child can be expected to use a napkin instead of a bib. No matter\nhow nicely behaved he may be, there is always danger of his spilling\nsomething, some time. Soft boiled egg is hideously difficult to eat\nwithout ever getting a drop of it down the front, and it is much easier\nto supply him with a clean bib for the next meal than to change his dress\nfor the next moment.\n\nVery little children usually have \"hot water plates\" that are specially\nmade like a double plate with hot water space between, on which the meat\nis cut up and the vegetables \"fixed\" in the pantry, and brought to the\nchildren before other people at the table are served. Not only because it\nis hard for them to be made to wait, and have their attention attracted by\nfood not for them, but because they take so long to eat. As soon as they\nare old enough to eat everything on the table, they are served, not last,\nbut in the regular rotation at table in which they come.\n\n\n=TABLE TRICKS THAT MUST BE CORRECTED=\n\nTo sit up straight and keep their hands in their laps when not occupied\nwith eating, is very hard for a child, but should be insisted upon in\norder to prevent a careless attitude that all too readily degenerates into\nflopping this way and that, and into fingering whatever is in reach. He\nmust not be allowed to warm his hands on his plate, or drum on the table,\nor screw his napkin into a rope or make marks on the tablecloth. If he\nshows talent as an artist, give him pencils or modeling wax in his\nplayroom, but do not let him bite his slice of bread into the silhouette\nof an animal, or model figures in soft bread at the table. And do not\nallow him to construct a tent out of two forks, or an automobile chassis\nout of tumblers and knives. Food and table implements are not playthings,\nnor is the dining-room a playground.\n\n\n=TALKING AT TABLE=\n\nWhen older people are present at table and a child wants to say something,\nhe must be taught to stop eating momentarily and look at his mother, who\nat the first pause in the conversation will say, \"What is it, dear?\" And\nthe child then has his say. If he wants merely to launch forth on a long\nsubject of his own conversation, his mother says, \"Not now, darling, we\nwill talk about that by and by,\" or \"Don't you see that mother is talking\nto Aunt Mary?\"\n\nWhen children are at table alone with their mother, they should not only\nbe allowed to talk but unconsciously trained in table conversation as well\nas in table manners. Children are all more or less little monkeys in that\nthey imitate everything they see. If their mother treats them exactly as\nshe does her visitors they in turn play \"visitor\" to perfection. Nothing\nhurts the feelings of children more than not being allowed to behave like\ngrown persons when they think they are able. To be helped, to be fed, to\nhave their food cut up, all have a stultifying effect upon their\ndevelopment as soon as they have become expert enough to attempt these\nservices for themselves.\n\nChildren should be taught from the time they are little not to talk about\nwhat they like and don't like. A child who is not allowed to say anything\nbut \"No, thank you,\" at home, will not mortify his mother in public by\nscreaming, \"I hate steak, I won't eat potato, I want ice cream!\"\n\n\n=QUIETNESS AT TABLE=\n\nOlder children should not be allowed to jerk out their chairs, to flop\ndown sideways, to flick their napkins by one corner, to reach out for\nsomething, or begin to eat nuts, fruit or other table decorations. A child\nas well as a grown person should sit down quietly in the center of his\nchair and draw it up to the table (if there is no one to push it in for\nhim) by holding the seat in either hand while momentarily lifting himself\non his feet. He must not \"jump\" or \"rock\" his chair into place at the\ntable. In getting up from the table, again he must push his chair back\nquietly, using his hands on either side of the chair seat, and _not_ by\nholding on to the table edge and giving himself, chair and all, a sudden\nshove! There should never be a sound made by the pushing in or out of\nchairs at table.\n\n\n=THE SPOILED CHILD=\n\nThe bad manners of American children, which unfortunately are supposed by\nforeigners to be typical, are nearly always the result of their being\ngiven \"star\" parts by over-fond but equally over-foolish mothers. It is\nonly necessary to bring to mind the most irritating and objectionable\nchild one knows, and the chances are that its mother continually throws\nthe spotlight on it by talking to it, and about it, and by calling\nattention to its looks or its cunning ways or even, possibly, its\nnaughtiness.\n\nIt is humanly natural to make a fuss over little children, particularly if\nthey are pretty, and it takes quite super-human control for a young mother\nnot to \"show off\" her treasure, but to say instead, \"Please do not pay any\nattention to her.\" Some children, who are especially free from\nself-consciousness, stand \"stardom\" better than others who are more\nreadily spoiled; but in nine cases out of ten, the old-fashioned method\nthat assigned children to inconspicuous places in the background and\ndecreed they might be seen but not heard, produced men and women of far\ngreater charm than the modern method of encouraging public self-expression\nfrom infancy upward.\n\n\n=CHIEF VIRTUE: OBEDIENCE=\n\nNo young human being, any more than a young dog, has the least claim to\nattractiveness unless it is trained to manners and obedience. The child\nthat whines, interrupts, fusses, fidgets, and does nothing that it is told\nto do, has not the least power of attraction for any one, even though it\nmay have the features of an angel and be dressed like a picture. Another\nthat may have no claim to beauty whatever, but that is sweet and nicely\nbehaved, exerts charm over every one.\n\nWhen possible, a child should be taken away the instant it becomes\ndisobedient. It soon learns that it can not \"stay with mother\" unless it\nis well-behaved. This means that it learns self-control in babyhood. Not\nonly must children obey, but they must never be allowed to \"show off\" or\nbecome pert, or to contradict or to answer back; and after having been\ntold \"no,\" they must never be allowed by persistent nagging to win \"yes.\"\n\nA child that loses its temper, that teases, that is petulant and\ndisobedient, and a nuisance to everybody, is merely a victim, poor little\nthing, of parents who have been too incompetent or negligent to train it\nto obedience. Moreover, that same child when grown will be the first to\nresent and blame the mother's mistaken \"spoiling\" and lack of good sense.\n\n\n=FAIR PLAY=\n\nNothing appeals to children more than justice, and they should be taught\nin the nursery to \"play fair\" in games, to respect each other's property\nand rights, to give credit to others, and not to take too much credit to\nthemselves. Every child must be taught never to draw attention to the\nmeagre possessions of another child whose parents are not as well off as\nher own. A purse-proud, overbearing child who says to a playmate, \"My\nclothes were all made in Paris, and my doll is ever so much handsomer than\nyours,\" or \"Is that real lace on your collar?\" is not impressing her young\nfriend with her grandeur and discrimination but with her disagreeableness\nand rudeness. A boy who brags about what he has, and boasts of what he can\ndo, is only less objectionable because other boys are sure to \"take it out\nof him\" promptly and thoroughly! Nor should a bright, observing child be\nencouraged to pick out other people's failings, or to tell her mother how\ninferior other children are compared with herself. If she wins a race or a\nmedal or is praised, she naturally tells her mother, and her mother\nnaturally rejoices with her, and it is proper that she should; but a wise\nmother directs her child's mental attitude to appreciate the fact that\narrogance, selfishness and conceit can win no place worth having in the\nworld.\n\n\n=CHILDREN AT AFTERNOON TEA=\n\nA custom in many fashionable houses is to allow children as soon as they\nare old enough, to come into the drawing-room or library at tea-time, as\nnothing gives them a better opportunity to learn how to behave in\ncompany. Little boys are always taught to bow to visitors; little girls to\ncurtsy. Small boys are taught to place the individual tables, hand plates\nand tea, and pass sandwiches and cakes. If there are no boys, girls\nperform this office; very often they both do. When everybody has been\nhelped, the children are perhaps allowed a piece of cake, which they put\non a tea-plate, and sit down, and eat nicely. But as the tea-hour is very\nnear their supper time, they are often allowed nothing, and after making\nthemselves useful, go out of the room again. If many people are present\nand the children are not spoken to, they leave the room unobtrusively and\nquietly. If only one or two are present, especially those whom the\nchildren know well, they shake hands, and say \"Good-by,\" and walk (not\nrun) out of the room.\n\nThis is one of the ways in which well-bred people become used from\nchildhood to instinctive good manners. Unless they are spoken to, they\nwould not think of speaking or making themselves noticed in any way. Very\nlittle children who have not reached the age of \"discretion,\" which may be\nplaced at about five, possibly not until six, usually go in the\ndrawing-room at tea-time only when near relatives or intimate friends of\nthe family are there. Needless to say that they are always washed and\ndressed. Some children wear special afternoon clothes, but usually the\nclean clothes put on at tea-time go on again the next morning, except the\nthin socks and house slippers which are reserved for the \"evening hour\" of\ntheir day.\n\n\n=CHILDREN'S PARTIES=\n\nA small girl (or boy) giving a party should receive with her mother at the\ndoor and greet all her friends as they come in. If it is her birthday and\nother children bring her gifts, she must say \"Thank you\" politely. On no\naccount must she be allowed to tell a child \"I hate dolls,\" if a friend\nhas brought her one. She must learn at an early age that as hostess she\nmust think of her guests rather than herself, and not want the best toys\nin the grab-bag or scream because another child gets the prize that is\noffered in a contest. If beaten in a game, a little girl, no less than her\nbrothers, must never cry, or complain that the contest is \"not fair\" when\nshe loses. She must try to help her guests have a good time, and not\ninsist on playing the game she likes instead of those which the other\nchildren suggest.\n\nWhen she herself goes to a party, she must say, \"How do you do,\" when she\nenters the room, and curtsy to the lady who receives. A boy makes a bow.\nThey should have equally good manners as when at home, and not try to grab\nmore than their share of favors or toys. When it is time to go home, they\nmust say, \"Good-by, I had a very good time,\" or, \"Good-by, thank you ever\nso much.\"\n\n\n=THE CHILD'S REPLY=\n\nIf the hostess says, \"Good-by, give my love to your mother!\" the child\nanswers, \"Yes, Mrs. Smith.\" In all monosyllabic replies a child must not\nsay \"Yes\" or \"No\" or \"What?\" A boy in answering a gentleman still uses the\nold-fashioned \"Yes, sir,\" \"No, sir,\" \"I think so, sir,\" but ma'am has gone\nout of style. Both boys and girls must therefore answer, \"No, Mrs. Smith,\"\n\"Yes, Miss Jones.\" A girl says \"Yes, Mr. Smith,\" rather than \"sir.\" All\nchildren should say, \"What did you say, mother?\" \"No, father,\" \"Thank you,\nAunt Kate,\" \"Yes, Uncle Fred,\" etc.\n\nThey need not insert a name in a long sentence nor with \"please,\" or\n\"thank you.\" \"Yes, please,\" or \"No, thank you,\" is quite sufficient. Or in\nanswering, \"I just saw Mary down in the garden,\" it is not necessary to\nadd \"Mrs. Smith\" at the end.\n\n\n=ETIQUETTE FOR GROWN CHILDREN=\n\nEtiquette for grown children is precisely the same as for grown persons,\nexcepting that in many ways the manners exacted of young people should be\nmore \"alert\" and punctilious. Young girls (and boys of course) should have\nthe manners of a gentleman rather than those of a lady; in that a\ngentleman always rises, relinquishes the best seat and walks last into a\nroom, whereas these courtesies are shown to, and not observed by ladies\n(except to other ladies older than themselves).\n\nIn giving parties, young girls send out their invitations as their mothers\ndo, and their deportment is the same as that of their d\u00e9butante sister.\nBoys behave as their fathers do, and are equally punctilious in following\nthe code of honor of all gentlemen. The only details, therefore, not\nlikely to be described in other chapters of this book, are a few\nadmonitions on table manners, that are somewhat above \"kindergarten\"\ngrade.\n\n\n=THE GRADUATING TESTS IN TABLE MANNERS=\n\nA young person may be supposed to have graduated from the school of table\netiquette when she, or he, would be able to sit at a formal lunch or\ndinner table and find no difficulty in eating properly any of the\ncomestibles which are supposed to be \"hurdles\" to the inexpert.\n\n\n=CORN ON THE COB=\n\nCorn on the cob could be eliminated so far as ever having to eat it in\nformal company is concerned, since it is never served at a luncheon or a\ndinner; but, if you insist on eating it at home or in a restaurant, to\nattack it with as little ferocity as possible, is perhaps the only\ndirection to be given, since at best it is an ungraceful performance and\nto eat it greedily a horrible sight!\n\n\n=ASPARAGUS=\n\nAlthough asparagus may be taken in the fingers, don't take a long drooping\nstalk, hold it up in the air and catch the end of it in your mouth like a\nfish. When the stalks are thin, it is best to cut them in half with the\nfork, eating the tips like all fork food; the ends may then be taken in\nthe fingers and eaten without a dropping fountain effect! Don't squeeze\nthe stalks, or hold your hand below the end and let the juice run down\nyour arm.\n\n\n=ARTICHOKES=\n\nArtichokes are always eaten with the fingers; a leaf at a time is pulled\noff and the edible end dipped in the sauce, and then bitten off.\n\n\n=BREAD AND BUTTER=\n\nBread should always be broken into small pieces with the fingers before\nbeing eaten. If it is to be buttered (at lunch, breakfast or supper, but\nnot at dinner) a piece is held on the edge of the bread and butter plate,\nor the place plate, and enough butter spread on it for a mouthful or two\nat a time, with a small silver \"butter knife.\" Bread must never be held\nflat on the palm of the hand and buttered in the air. If the regular steel\nknife is used, care must be taken not to smear food from the knife's side\non the butter. Any food that is smeared about is loathsome. People who\nhave beautiful table manners always keep their places at table neat.\nPeople with disgusting manners get everything in a horrible mess.\n\n\n=THE MANAGEMENT OF BONES AND PITS=\n\nTerrapin bones, fish bones and grape seed must be eaten quite bare and\nclean in the mouth, and removed one at a time between finger and thumb.\nAll spitting out of bones and pits into the plate is disgusting.\n\nIf food is too hot, quickly take a swallow of water. On no account spit it\nout! If food has been taken into your mouth, no matter how you hate it,\nyou have got to swallow it. It is unforgivable to take anything out of\nyour mouth that has been put in it, except dry bones, and stones. To spit\nanything whatever into the corner of your napkin, is too nauseating to\ncomment on. It is horrid to see any one spit skins or pits on a fork or\ninto the plate. The only way to take anything out of your mouth is between\nfirst-finger and thumb. Dry grape seeds or cherry pits can be dropped from\nthe lips into the cupped hand. Peaches or other very juicy fruits are\npeeled and then eaten with knife and fork, but dry fruits, such as\napples, may be cut and then eaten in the fingers. _Never_ wipe hands that\nhave fruit juice on them on a napkin without first using a finger bowl,\nbecause fruit juices make indelible stains.\n\n\n=BIRDS=\n\nBirds are not eaten with the fingers in company! You cut off as much of\nthe meat as you can, and leave the rest on your plate.\n\n\n=FORKS OR FINGERS=\n\nAll juicy or \"gooey\" fruits or cakes are best eaten with a fork, but in\nmost cases it is a matter of dexterity. If you are able to eat a peach in\nyour fingers and not smear your face, let juice run down, or make a\nsucking noise, you are the one in a thousand who _may_, and with utmost\npropriety, continue the feat. If you can eat a napoleon or a cream puff\nand not let the cream ooze out on the far side, you need not use a fork,\nbut if you can not eat something--no matter what it is--without getting it\nall over your fingers, you must use a fork, and if necessary, a knife\nalso!\n\nAll rules of table manners are made to avoid ugliness; to let any one see\nwhat you have in your mouth is repulsive; to make a noise is to suggest an\nanimal; to make a mess is disgusting. On the other hand, there are a\nnumber of trifling decrees of etiquette that are merely finical,\nunreasonable, and silly. Why one should not cut one's salad in small\npieces if one wants to, makes little sense, unless one wants to cut up a\nwhole plateful and make the plate messy! A steel knife must not be used\nfor salad or fruit, because it turns black. To condemn the American custom\nof eating a soft-boiled egg in a glass, or cup, because it happens to be\nthe English fashion to scoop it through the ragged edge of the shell, is\nabout as reasonable as though we were to proclaim English manners bad\nbecause they tag a breakfast dish, called a \"savory\" of fish-roe or\nsomething equally inappropriate, after the dessert at dinner.\n\nMany other arbitrary rules for eating food with fork, spoon or fingers,\nare also stumbling-blocks rather than aids to smoothness. As said above,\none eats with a fork or spoon \"finger-foods\" that are messy and sticky;\none eats with the finger those which are dry. It is true that one should\nnot eat French fried potatoes or Saratoga chips in fingers, but that is\nbecause they belong to the meat course. Separate vegetable saucers are\nnever put on a fashionable table, neither is butter allowed at dinner.\nTherefore both must be avoided in company, because \"company\" is formal,\nand etiquette is first aid always to formality. But if a man in his own\nhouse likes butter with his dinner or a saucer for his tomatoes, he is\nbreaking the rule of fashion to have them, but he is scarcely committing\nan offense! In the same way, if he likes to eat a chicken wing or a squab\nleg in his fingers he can ask for a finger-bowl. The real objection to\neating with the fingers is getting them greasy or sticky, and to suck them\nor smear one's napkin is equally unsightly.\n\n\n=ON THE SUBJECT OF ELBOWS=\n\nAlthough elbows on the table are seen constantly in highest fashionable\ncircles, a whole table's length of elbows planted like clothes-line poles\nand hands waving glasses or forks about in between, is neither an\nattractive nor (fortunately) an accurate picture of a fashionable dinner\ntable. As a matter of fact, the tolerated elbow-on-table is used only on\noccasion and for a reason, and should neither be permitted to children nor\npractised in their presence.\n\nElbows are universally seen on tables in restaurants, especially when\npeople are lunching or dining at a small table of two or four, and it is\nimpossible to make oneself heard above the music by one's table\ncompanions, and at the same time not be heard at other tables nearby,\nwithout leaning far forward. And in leaning forward, a woman's figure\nmakes a more graceful outline supported on her elbows than doubled forward\nover her hands in her lap as though in pain! At home, when there is no\nreason for leaning across the table, there is no reason for elbows. And\nat a dinner of ceremony, elbows on the table are rarely seen, except at\nthe ends of the table, where again one has to lean forward in order to\ntalk to a companion at a distance across the table corner.\n\nElbows are _never_ put on the table while one is eating. To sit with the\nleft elbow propped on the table while eating with the right hand (unless\none is alone and ill), or to prop the right one on the table while lifting\nthe fork or glass to the mouth, must be avoided.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVI\n\nEVERY-DAY MANNERS AT HOME\n\n\nJust as no chain is stronger than its weakest link, no manners can be\nexpected to stand a strain beyond their daily test at home.\n\nThose who are used to losing their temper in the bosom of their family\nwill sooner or later lose it in public. Families which exert neither\ncourtesy nor charm when alone, can no more deceive other people into\nbelieving that either attribute belongs to them than they could hope to\nmake painted faces look like \"real\" complexions.\n\nA mother should exact precisely the same behavior at home and every day,\nthat she would like her children to display in public, and she herself, if\nshe expects them to take good manners seriously, must show the same\nmanners to them alone that she shows to \"company.\"\n\nA really charming woman exerts her charm nowhere more than upon her\nhusband and children, and a noble nature through daily though unconscious\nexample is of course the greatest influence for good that there is in the\nworld. No preacher, no matter how saint-like his precept or golden his\nvoice, can equal the home influence of admirable parents.\n\nIt is not merely in such matters as getting up when their mother or other\nolder relatives enter a room, answering civilly and having good table\nmanners, but in forming habits of admirable living and thinking that a\nparent's example makes or mars.\n\nIf children see temper uncontrolled, hear gossip, uncharitableness and\nsuspicion of neighbors, witness arrogant sharp-dealing or lax honor, their\nown characters can scarcely escape perversion. In the same way others can\nnot easily fail to be thoroughbred who have never seen or heard their\nparents do or say an ignoble thing.\n\nNo child will ever accept a maxim that is preached but not followed by the\npreacher. It is a waste of breath for the father to order his Sons to keep\ntheir temper, to behave like gentlemen, or to be good sportsmen, if he\ndoes or is himself none of these things.\n\nIn the present day of rush and hurry, there is little time for \"home\"\nexample. To the over-busy or gaily fashionable, \"home\" might as well be a\nrailroad station, and members of a family passengers who see each other\nonly for a few hurried minutes before taking trains in opposite\ndirections. The days are gone when the family sat in the evening around\nthe fire, or a \"table with a lamp,\" when it was customary to read aloud or\nto talk. Few people \"talk well\" in these days; fewer read aloud, and fewer\nstill endure listening to any book literally word by word.\n\nRailroad station reading is as much in vogue as railroad station bolting\nof meals. Magazines--\"picture\" ones--are all that the hurried have time\nfor, and even those who profess to \"love reading\" dart tourist-fashion\nfrom page to page only pausing at attractive paragraphs; and family\nrelationships are followed somewhat in the same way.\n\nAny number of busy men scarcely know their children at all, and have not\neven stopped to realize that they seldom or never talk to them, never\nexert themselves to be sympathetic with them, or in the slightest degree\nto influence them. To growl \"mornin',\" or \"Don't, Johnny,\" or \"Be quiet,\nAlice!\" is very, very far from being \"an influence\" on your children's\nmorals, minds or manners.\n\n\n=HOME EDUCATION=\n\nA Supreme Court Justice whose education had been cut short in his youth by\nthe Civil War, when asked how, under the circumstances, his scholastic\nattainments had been acquired, answered: \"My father believed it was the\nduty of every gentleman to bequeath the wealth of his intellect, no less\nthan that of his pocket, to his children. Wealth might be acquired by\n'luck,' but proper cultivation was the birthright of every child born of\ncultivated parents. We learned Latin and Greek by having him talk and\nread them to us. He wrote doggerel rhymes of history which took the place\nof Mother Goose. He also told us 'bed-time stories' of history, and read\nclassics to us after supper. When there was company, we were brought down\nfrom the nursery so that we might profit by the conversation of our\nbetters.\"\n\nVolumes full of \"manners\" acquired after they are grown are not worth half\nso much as the simplest precepts acquired through lifelong habits and\nthrough having known nothing else.\n\n\n=THE OLD GRAY WRAPPER HABIT=\n\nHow many times has one heard some one say: \"I won't dress for dinner--no\none is coming in.\" Or, \"That old dress will do!\" Old clothes! No manners!\nAnd what is the result? One wife more wonders why her husband neglects\nher! Curious how the habit of careless manners and the habit of old\nclothes go together. If you doubt it, put the question to yourself: \"Who\ncould possibly have the manners of a queen in a gray flannel wrapper?\" And\nhow many women really lovely and good--especially good--commit esthetic\nsuicide by letting themselves slide down to where they \"feel natural\" in\nan old gray flannel wrapper, not only actually but mentally.\n\nThe woman of charm in \"company\" is the woman of fastidiousness at home;\nshe who dresses for her children and \"prinks\" for her husband's\nhome-coming, is sure to greet them with greater charm than she who thinks\nwhatever she happens to have on is \"good enough.\" Any old thing good\nenough for those she loves most! Think of it!\n\nA certain very lovely lady whose husband is quite as much her lover as in\nthe days of his courtship, has never in twenty years allowed him to watch\nthe progress of her toilet, because of her determination never to let him\nsee her except at her prettiest. Needless to say, he never meets anything\nbut \"prettiest\" manners either. No matter how \"out of sorts\" she may be\nfeeling, his key in the door is a signal for her to \"put aside everything\nthat is annoying or depressing,\" with the result that wild horses\ncouldn't drag his attention from her--all because neither she nor he has\never slumped into the gray flannel wrapper habit.\n\nSo many people save up all their troubles to pour on the one they most\nlove, the idea being, seemingly, that no reserves are necessary between\nlovers. Nor need there be really. But why, when their house looks out upon\na garden that has charming vistas, must she insist on his looking into the\nclothes-yard and the ash-can? She who complains incessantly that this is\nwrong, or that hurts, or any other thing worries or vexes her, so that his\ninevitable answer to her greeting is, \"I'm so sorry, dear,\" or \"That's too\nbad,\" or \"Poor darling, it's a shame,\" is getting mentally into a gray\nflannel wrapper!\n\nIf something is seriously wrong, if she is really ill, that is different.\nBut of the petty things that are only remembered in order to be told to\ngain sympathy--beware!\n\nThere is a big deposit of sympathy in the bank of love, but don't draw out\nlittle sums every hour or so--so that by and by, when perhaps you need it\nbadly, it is all drawn out and you yourself don't know how or on what it\nwas spent.\n\nAll that has been said to warn a wife from slovenly habits of mind or\ndress may be adapted to apply with equal force in suggesting a rule for\nhusbands. A man should always remember that a woman's regard for him is\nfounded on her impressions when seeing him at his best. Even granting that\nshe has no great illusions about men in general, he at his best is at\nleast an approximation to her ideal--and it is his chief duty never to\nfall below the standard he set for himself in making his most cogent\nappeal. Consequently he should continue through the years to be scrupulous\nabout his personal appearance and his clothes, remembering the adage that\nthe most successful marriages are those in which both parties to the\ncontract succeed in \"keeping up the illusion.\" It is of importance also\nthat he refrain from burdening his wife with the cares and worries of his\nbusiness day. Many writers insist that the wife should be ready to receive\na complete consignment of all his troubles when the husband comes home at\nthe end of the day. It is a sounder practise for him to save her as much\nas possible from the trials of his business hours; and, incidentally, it\nis the best kind of mental training for him to put all business cares\nbehind him as he closes the door of his office and goes home. When it is\nsaid that a husband should not fling all the day's trifling annoyances\ninto the lap of his wife without reflecting that she may have some cares\nof her own, there is no intention to indicate that a wife should not have\na thorough understanding of her husband's affairs. Complete acquaintance\nand sympathy with his work is one of the foundation stones of the domestic\nedifice.\n\n\n=THE FAMILY AT TABLE=\n\nWhether \"there is company\" or whether the family is alone, the linen must\nbe as spotless, the silver as clean, and the table as carefully set as\nthough twenty were coming for dinner. Sloppy service is no more to be\ntolerated every day at home than at a dinner party, and in so far as\netiquette is concerned, you should live in exactly the same way whether\nthere is company or none. \"Company manners\" and \"every-day manners\" must\nbe identical in service as well as family behavior. You may not be able to\nafford quantities of flowers in your house and on your table, or perhaps\nany, but there is no excuse for wilted flowers or an empty vase that\nmerely accentuates your table's flowerlessness. There are plenty of table\nornaments that need no flowers. In the same way the compotiers can be\nfilled with candies or conserves of the \"everlasting\" variety;\nsilver-foiled chocolates or nougat, or gum drops or crystalized ginger or\nconserved fruits--will keep for months! But the table must be decorated\nand a certain form observed at the dinner hour; otherwise gray flannel\nwrapper habits become imminent. Letters, newspapers, books have no place\nat a dinner table. Reading at table is allowable at breakfast and when\neating alone, but a man and his wife should no more read at lunch or\ndinner before each other or their children than they should allow their\nchildren to read before them.\n\n\n=THE TABLE NOT A PLACE FOR PRIVATE DISCUSSION=\n\nOne very bad habit in many families is the discussion of all of their most\nintimate affairs at table--entirely forgetting whoever may be waiting on\nit; and nine times out of ten those serving in the dining-room see no harm\n(if they feel like it) in repeating what is said. Why should they? It\nscarcely occurs to them that they were \"invisible\" and that what was\nopenly talked about at the table was supposed to be a secret!\n\nApart from the stupidity and imprudence of talking before witnesses, it is\nbad form to discuss one's private affairs before any one. And it should be\nunnecessary to add that a man and his wife who quarrel before their\nchildren or the servants, deprive the former of good breeding through\ninheritance, and publish to the latter that they do not belong to the\n\"better class\" through any qualification except the possession of a bank\naccount.\n\nFurthermore, parents must never disagree before the children. It simply\ncan't be! Nor can there be an appeal to one parent against the other by a\nchild.\n\n\"Father told me to jump down the well!\"\n\n\"Then you must do it, dear,\" is the mother's only possible comment. When\nthe child has \"jumped down the well,\" she may pull him out promptly, and\nshe may in private tell her husband what she thinks about his issuing such\norders and stand her own ground against them; but so long as parents are\nliving under the same roofs that roof must shelter unity of opinion, so\nfar as any witnesses are concerned.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVII\n\nTRAVELING AT HOME AND ABROAD\n\n\nTo do nothing that can either annoy or offend the sensibilities of others,\nsums up the principal rules for conduct under all circumstances--whether\nstaying at home or traveling. But in order to do nothing that can annoy or\ngive offense, it is necessary for us to consider the point of view of\nthose with whom we come in contact; and in traveling abroad it is\nnecessary to know something of foreign customs which affect the foreign\npoint of view, if we would be thought a cultivated and charming people\ninstead of an uncivilized and objectionable one. Before going abroad,\nhowever, let us first take up the subject of travel at home.\n\nSince it is not likely that any one would go around the world being\ndeliberately offensive to others, it may be taken for granted that\nobnoxious behavior is either the fault of thoughtlessness or\nignorance--and for the former there is no excuse.\n\n\n=ON A RAILROAD TRAIN=\n\nOn a railroad train you should be careful not to assail the nostrils of\nfellow passengers with strong odors of any kind. An odor that may seem to\nyou refreshing, may cause others who dislike it and are \"poor travelers\"\nto suffer really great distress. There is a combination of banana and the\nleather smell of a valise containing food, that is to many people an\nimmediate emetic. The smell of a banana or an orange, is in fact to nearly\nall bad travelers the last straw. In America where there are \"diners\" on\nevery Pullman train, the food odors are seldom encountered in parlor cars,\nbut in Europe where railroad carriages are small, one fruit enthusiast can\nmake his traveling companions more utterly wretched than perhaps he can\nimagine. The cigar which is smoldering has, on most women, the same\neffect. Certain perfumes that are particularly heavy, make others ill. To\nat least half of an average trainful of people, strong odors of one kind\nor another are disagreeable if not actually nauseating.\n\n\n=CHILDREN ON TRAINS=\n\nPeople with children are most often the food-offenders. Any number not\nonly let small children eat continuously so that the car is filled with\nfood odors, but occasional mothers have been known to let a child with\nsmeary fingers clutch a nearby passenger by the dress or coat and\nseemingly think it cunning! Those who can afford it, usually take the\ndrawing-room and keep the children in it. Those who are to travel in seats\nshould plan diversions for them ahead of time; since it is unreasonable to\nexpect little children to sit quietly for hours on end by merely telling\nthem to \"be good.\" Two little girls on the train to Washington the other\nday were crocheting doll's sweaters with balls of worsted in which were\nwound wrapped and disguised \"prizes.\" The amount of wool covering each\nmight take perhaps a half hour to use up. They were allowed the prize only\nwhen the last strand of wool around it was used. They were then occupied\nfor a while with whatever it was--a little book, or a puzzle, or a game.\nWhen they grew tired of its novelty, they crocheted again until they came\nto the next prize. In the end they had also new garments for their dolls.\n\n\n=LADIES DO NOT TRAVEL WITH ESCORTS=\n\nIn a curiously na\u00efve book on etiquette appeared a chapter purporting to\ngive advice to a \"lady\" traveling for an indefinite number of days with a\ngentleman escort! That any lady could go traveling for days under the\nprotection of a gentleman is at least a novelty in etiquette. As said\nelsewhere, in fashionable society an \"escort\" is unheard of, and in decent\nsociety a lady doesn't go traveling around the country with a gentleman\nunless she is outside the pale of society, in which case social\nconvention, at least, is not concerned with her.\n\nLadies are sometimes accompanied on short, direct trips by gentlemen of\ntheir acquaintance, but not for longer than a few hours.\n\nIf a lady traveling alone on a long journey, such as a trip across the\ncontinent, happens to find a gentleman on board whom she knows, she must\nnot allow him to sit with her in the dining-car more often than a casual\nonce or twice, nor must she allow him to sit with her or talk to her\nenough to give a possible impression that they are together. In fact she\nwould be more prudent to take her meals by herself, as it is scarcely\nworth running the risk of other passengers' criticism for the sake of\nhaving companionship at a meal or two. If, on a short trip, a gentleman\nasks a lady, whom he knows, to lunch with him in the dining-car, there is\nno reason why she shouldn't.\n\n\n=THE YOUNG WOMAN TRAVELING ALONE=\n\nIn America, a young woman can go across every one of our thousands upon\nthousands of railed miles without the slightest risk of a disagreeable\noccurrence if she is herself dignified and reserved. She should be\nparticularly careful if she is young and pretty not to allow strange men\nto \"scrape an acquaintance\" with her. If a stranger happens to offer to\nopen a window for her, or get her a chair on the observation platform, it\ndoes not give him the right to more than a civil \"thank you\" from her. If,\nin spite of etiquette, she should on a long journey drift into\nconversation with an obviously well-behaved youth, she should remember\nthat talking with him at all is contrary to the proprieties, and that she\nmust be doubly careful to keep him at a formal distance. There is little\nharm in talking of utterly impersonal subjects--but she should avoid\ngiving him information that is personal.\n\nEvery guardian should also warn a young girl that if, when she alights at\nher destination, her friends fail to meet her, she should on no account\naccept a stranger's offer, whether man or woman, to drive her to her\ndestination. The safest thing to do is to walk. If it is too far, and\nthere is no \"official\" taxicab agent belonging to the railroad company,\nshe should go to the ticket seller or some one wearing the railroad\nuniform and ask him to select a vehicle for her. She should never--above\nall in a strange city where she does not even know her direction--take a\ntaxi on the street.\n\n\n=REGISTERING IN A HOTEL=\n\nA gentleman writes in the hotel register: \"John Smith, New York.\"\n\nUnder no circumstances \"Mr.\" or \"Hon.\" if he is alone. But if his wife is\nwith him, the prefix to their joint names is correct: \"Mr. and Mrs. John\nSmith, New York.\"\n\nHe never enters his street and house number. Neither \"John Smith and Wife\"\nnor \"John Smith and Family\" are good form. If he does not like the \"Mr.\"\nbefore his name he can sign his own without, on one line, and then write\n\"Mrs. Smith\" on the one below. The whole family should be registered:\n\n    John T. Smith,                     New York\n    Mrs. Smith,                           \"\n     and maid\n              (_if she has brought one_)\n\n    Miss Margaret Smith,                  \"\n    John T. Smith, Jr.,                   \"\n    Baby and nurse,                       \"\n\nOr, if the children are young, he writes:\n\n    Mr. & Mrs. John T. Smith, New York, 3 children and nurse.\n\nA lady never signs her name without \"Miss\" or \"Mrs.\" in a hotel register:\n\n\"Miss Abigail Titherington\" is correct, or \"Mrs. John Smith,\" never \"Sarah\nSmith.\"\n\n\n=LADIES ALONE IN AMERICAN HOTELS=\n\nIf you have never been in a hotel alone but you are of sufficient years,\nwell behaved and dignified in appearance, you need have no fear as to the\ntreatment you will receive. But you should write to the hotel in\nadvance--whether here or in Europe. In this country you register in the\noffice and are shown to your room, or rooms, by a bell-boy--in some hotels\nby a bell-boy and a maid.\n\nOne piece of advice: You will not get good service unless you tip\ngenerously. If you do not care for elaborate meals, that is nothing to\nyour discredit; but you should not go to an expensive hotel, hold a table\nthat would otherwise be occupied by others who might order a long dinner,\nand expect your waiter to be contented with a tip of fifteen cents for\nyour dollar supper! The rule is ten per cent, beginning with a meal\ncosting about three or four dollars. A quarter is the smallest possible\ntip in a first class hotel. If your meal costs a quarter--you should give\nthe waiter a quarter. If it costs two dollars or more than two dollars,\nyou give thirty or thirty-five cents, and ten per cent on a bigger amount.\nIn smaller hotels tips are less in proportion. Tipping is undoubtedly a\nbad system, but it happens to be in force, and that being the case,\ntravelers have to pay their share of it--if they like the way made smooth\nand comfortable.\n\nA lady traveling alone with her maid (or without one), of necessity has\nher meals alone in her own sitting-room, if she has one. If she goes to\nthe dining-room, she usually takes a book because hotel service seems\nendless to one used to meals at home and nothing is duller than to sit\nlong alone with nothing to do but look at the tablecloth, which is\nscarcely diverting, or at other people, which is impolite.\n\n\n=ON THE STEAMER=\n\nIn the days when our great-grandparents went to Europe on a clipper ship\ncarrying at most a score of voyagers and taking a month perhaps to make\nthe crossing, those who sat day after day together, and evening after\nevening around the cabin lamp, became necessarily friendly; and in many\ninstances not only for the duration of the voyage but for life. More often\nthan not, those who had \"endured the rigors\" of the Atlantic together,\njoined forces in engaging the courier who was in those days indispensable,\nand set out on their Continental travels in company. Dashing to Europe and\nback was scarcely to be imagined, and travelers who had ventured such a\ndistance, stayed at least a year or more. Also in those slower days of\ncrawling across the earth's surface by post-chaise and diligence and\nhorseback, travelers meeting in inns and elsewhere, fell literally on each\nother's neck at the sound of an American accent! And each retailed to the\nother his news of home; to which was added the news of all whom they had\nencountered. It is also from these \"traveling ancestors\" that families\ninherit their Continental visiting lists. Friends they made in Europe, in\nturn gave letters of introduction to friends coming later to America. And\nto them again their American hosts sent letters by later American friends.\n\nBut to-day when going to Europe is of scarcely greater importance than\ngoing into another State, and when the passenger list numbers hundreds,\n\"making friends with strangers\" is the last thing the great-grandchildren\nof those earlier travelers would think of.\n\nIt may be pretty accurately said that the faster and bigger the\nship, the less likely one is to speak to strangers, and yet--as\nalways--circumstances alter cases. Because the Worldlys, the Oldnames, the\nEminents,--all those who are innately exclusive--never \"pick up\"\nacquaintances on shipboard, it does not follow that no fashionable and\nwell-born people ever drift into acquaintanceship on European-American\nsteamers of to-day--but they are at least not apt to do so. Many in fact\ntake the ocean-crossing as a rest-cure and stay in their cabins the whole\nvoyage. The Worldlys always have their meals served in their own\n\"drawing-room\" and have their deck chairs placed so that no one is very\nnear them, and keep to themselves except when they invite friends of their\nown to play bridge or take dinner or lunch with them.\n\nBut because the Worldlys and the Eminents--and the Snobsnifts who copy\nthem--stay in their cabins, sit in segregated chairs and speak to no one\nexcept the handful of their personal friends or acquaintances who happen\nto be on board, it does not follow that the Smiths, Joneses and Robinsons\nare not enlarging their acquaintance with every revolution of the screws.\nAnd if you happen to like to be talked to by strangers, and if they in\nturn like to talk to you, it can not be said that there is any rule of\netiquette against it.\n\n\n=DINING SALOON ETIQUETTE=\n\nVery fashionable people as a rule travel a great deal, which means that\nthey are known very well to the head steward, who reserves a table, or\nthey engage a table for themselves when they get their tickets. Mr. and\nMrs. Gilding for instance, if they know that friends of theirs are sailing\non the same steamer, ask them to sit at their table and ask for a\nsufficiently large table on purpose. Or if they are traveling alone, they\narrange to have one of the small tables for two, to themselves.\n\nPeople of wide acquaintance in big cities are sure to find friends on\nboard with whom they can arrange, if they choose, to sit on deck or in the\ndining saloon, but most people, unless really intimate friends are on\nboard, sit wherever the head steward puts them. After a meal or two people\nalways speak to those sitting next to them. None but the rudest snobs\nwould sit through meal after meal without ever addressing a word to their\ntable companions. Well-bred people are always courteous, but that does not\nmean that they establish friendships with any strangers who happen to be\nplaced next to them.\n\nIn crossing the Pacific, people are more generally friendly because the\nvoyage is so much longer, and on the other long voyages, such as those to\nIndia and South Africa, the entire ship's company become almost as\nintimate as in the old clipper days.\n\n\n=THE TACTICS OF THE CLIMBER=\n\nThere are certain constant travelers who, it is said, count on a European\nvoyage to increase their social acquaintance by just so much each trip!\nRichan Vulgar, for instance, has his same especial table every time he\ncrosses, which is four times a year! Walking through a \"steamer train\" he\nsees a \"celebrity,\" a brilliant, let us say, but unworldly man. Vulgar\nannexes him by saying, casually, \"Have you a seat at table? Better sit\nwith me, I always have the table by the door; it is easy to get in and\nout.\" The celebrity accepts, since there is no evidence that he is to be\n\"featured,\" and the chances are that he remains unconscious to the end of\ntime that he served as a decoy. Boarding the steamer, Vulgar sees the\nLovejoys, and pounces: \"You must sit at my table! Celebrity and I are\ncrossing together--he is the most delightful man! I want you to sit next\nto him.\" They think Celebrity sounds very interesting; so, not having\nengaged a table for themselves, they say they will be delighted. On the\ndeck, the Smartlys appear and ask the Lovejoys to sit with them. Vulgar,\nwho is standing by (he is always standing by) breaks in even without an\nintroduction and says: \"Mr. and Mrs. Lovejoy and Celebrity are sitting at\nmy table, won't you sit with me also?\" If the Smartlys protest they have a\ntable, he is generally insistent and momentarily overpowering enough to\nmake them join forces with him. As the Smartlys particularly want to sit\nnext to the Lovejoys and also like the idea of meeting Celebrity, it ends\nin Vulgar's table being a collection of fashionables whom he could not\npossibly have gotten together without just such a maneuver.\n\nThe question of what he gets out of it is puzzling since with each hour\nthe really well-bred people dislike him more and more intensely, and at\nthe end of a day or so, his table's company are all eating on deck to\navoid him. Perhaps there is some recompense that does not appear on the\nsurface, but to the casual observer the satisfaction of telling others\nthat the Smartlys, Lovejoys and Wellborns sat at his table would scarcely\nseem worth the effort.\n\n\n=THOSE ACQUISITIVE OF ACQUAINTANCE=\n\nThere is another type of steamer passenger and hotel guest who may, or may\nnot, be a climber. This one searches out potential acquaintances on the\npassenger list and hotel register with the avidity of a bird searching for\nworms. You have scarcely found your own stateroom and had your deck chair\nplaced, when one of them swoops upon you: \"I don't know whether you\nremember me? I met you in nineteen two, at Countess della Robbia's in\nFlorence.\" Your memory being woefully incomplete, there is nothing for you\nto say except, \"How do you do!\" If a few minutes of conversation, which\nshould be sufficient, proves her to be a lady, you talk to her now and\nagain throughout the voyage, and may end by liking her very much. If,\nhowever, her speech breaks into expressions which prove her not a lady,\nyou become engrossed in your book or conversation with another when she\napproaches. Often these over-friendly people are grasping, calculating and\nobjectionable, but sometimes like Ricki Ticki Tavi they are merely\nobsessed with a mania to run about and see what is going on in the world.\n\nFor instance, Miss Spinster is one of the best-bred, best-informed, most\ncharming ladies imaginable. But her mania for people cannot fail on\noccasions to put her in a position to be snubbed--never seriously because\nshe is too obviously a lady for that. But to see her trotting along the\ndeck and then darting upon a helpless reclining figure, is at least an\nillustration of the way some people make friends. It can't be done, of\ncourse, unless you have once known the person you are addressing, or\nunless you have a friend in common who, though absent, can serve in\nmaking the introduction.\n\nAs said in \"Introductions,\" introducing oneself is often perfectly\ncorrect. If you, sharing Miss Spinster's love of people, find yourself on\na steamer with the intimate friend of a member of your family, you may\nvery properly go up and say, \"I am going to speak to you because I am\nCelia Lovejoy's cousin--I am Mrs. Brown.\" And Mrs. Norman, who very much\nlikes Celia Lovejoy, says cordially, \"I am so glad you spoke to me, do sit\ndown, won't you?\" But to have your next chair neighbor on deck insist on\ntalking to you, if you don't want to be talked to, is very annoying, and\nit is bad form for her to do so. If you are sitting hour after hour doing\nnothing but idly looking in front of you, your neighbor might address a\nfew remarks to you, and if you receive them with any degree of enthusiasm,\nyour response may be translated into a willingness to talk. But if you\nanswer in the merest monosyllables, it should be taken to mean that you\nprefer to be left to your own diversions.\n\nEven if you are agreeable, your neighbor should show tact in not speaking\nto you when you are reading or writing, or show no inclination for\nconversation. The point is really that no one must do anything to\ninterfere with the enjoyment of another. Whoever is making the advance,\nwhether your neighbor or yourself, it must never be more than tentative;\nif not at least met halfway, it must be withdrawn at once. That is really\nthe only rule there is. It should merely be granted that those who do not\ncare to meet others have just as much right to their seclusion as those\nwho delight in others have a right to be delighted--as long as that\ndelight is unmistakably mutual.\n\n\n=STEAMER TIPS=\n\nEach ordinary first class passenger, now as always, gives ten shillings\n($2.50) to the room steward or stewardess, ten shillings to the\ndining-room steward, ten shillings to the deck steward, ten shillings to\nthe lounge steward. Your tip to the head steward and to one of the chefs\ndepends on whether they have done anything especial for you. If not, you\ndo not tip them. If you are a bad sailor and have been taking your meals\nin your room, you give twenty shillings ($5.00) at least to the stewardess\n(or steward, if you are a man). Or if you have eaten your meals on deck,\nyou give twenty shillings to the deck steward, and ten to his assistant,\nand you give five to the bath steward. To any steward who takes pains to\nplease you, you show by your manner in thanking him that you appreciate\nhis efforts, as well as by giving him a somewhat more generous tip when\nyou leave the ship.\n\nIf you like your bath at a certain hour, you would do well to ask your\nbath steward for it as soon as you go on board (unless you have a private\nbath of your own), since the last persons to speak get the inconvenient\nhours--naturally. To many the daily salt bath is the most delightful\nfeature of the trip. The water is always wonderfully clear and the towels\nare heated.\n\nIf you have been ill on the voyage, some ship's doctors send in a bill;\nothers do not. In the latter case you are not actually obliged to give\nthem anything, but the generously inclined put the amount of an average\nfee in an envelope and leave it for the doctor at the purser's office.\n\n\n=DRESS ON THE STEAMER=\n\nOn the _de luxe_ steamers nearly every one dresses for dinner; some\nactually in ball dresses, which is in worst possible taste, and, like all\nover-dressing in public places, indicates that they have no other place to\nshow their finery. People of position never put on formal evening dress on\na steamer, not even in the _\u00e0 la carte_ restaurant, which is a feature of\nthe _de luxe_ steamer of size. In the dining saloon they wear afternoon\nhouse dresses--without hats--for dinner. In the restaurant they wear\nsemi-dinner dresses. Some smart men on the ordinary steamers put on a dark\nsack suit for dinner after wearing country clothes all day, but in the _de\nluxe_ restaurant they wear Tuxedo coats. No gentleman wears a tail-coat on\nshipboard under any circumstances whatsoever.\n\n\n=TRAVELING ABROAD=\n\nJust as one discordant note makes more impression than all the others that\nare correctly played in an entire symphony, so does a discordant incident\nstand out and dominate a hundred others that are above criticism, and\ntherefore unnoticed.\n\nIn every country of Europe and Asia are Americans who combine the\nbrilliancy which none can deny is the birthright of the newer world, with\nthe cultivation and good breeding of the old. These Americans of the best\ntype go all over the world, fitting in so perfectly with their background\nthat not even the inhabitants notice they are strangers; in other words\nthey achieve the highest accomplishment possible.\n\nBut in contrast to these, the numberless discordant ones are only too\nfamiliar; one sees them swarming over Europe in bunches, sometimes in\nhordes, on regular professionally run tours. This, of course, does not\nmean that all personally conducted tourists are anything like them. The\nobjectionables are loud of voice, loud in manner; they always attract as\nmuch attention as possible to themselves, and wave American flags on all\noccasions.\n\nThe American flag is the most wonderful emblem in the whole world, and\nours is the most glorious country too, but that does not mean that it is\ngood taste to wave our flag for no reason whatever. At a parade or on an\nespecial day when other people are waving flags, then let us wave ours by\nall means--but not otherwise. It does not dignify our flag to make it an\nobject of ridicule to others, and that is exactly the result of the\nceaseless flaunting of it by a group of people who talk at the top of\ntheir voices, who deliberately assume that the atmosphere belongs to them,\nand who behave like noisy, untrained savages trying to \"show off.\" In\nhotels, on excursions, steamers and trains, they insist on talking to\neveryone, whether everyone wants to talk or not. They are \"all over the\nplace\"--there is no other way to express it--and they allow privacy to no\none if they can help it.\n\nNumberless cultivated Americans traveling in Europe never by any chance\nspeak English or carry English books on railroad trains, as a protection\nagainst the other type of American who allows no one to travel in the same\ncompartment and escape conversation. The only way to avoid unwelcome\nimportunities is literally to take refuge in assuming another nationality.\n\nStrangely enough, these irrepressibles are seldom encountered at home;\nthey seem to develop on the steamer and burst into full bloom only on the\nbeaten tourist trails--which is a pity, because if they only developed at\nhome instead, we might be intensely annoyed but at least we should not be\nmortified before our own citizens about other fellow-citizens. But to a\nsensitive American it is far from pleasant to have the country he loves\nrepresented by a tableful of vulgarians noisily attracting the attention\nof a whole dining-room, and to have a European say mockingly, \"Ah, and\nthose are your compatriots?\"\n\nSome years ago, a Russian grand duke sitting next to Mrs. Oldname at a\nluncheon in a Monte Carlo restaurant, said to her:\n\n\"Your country puzzles me! How can it be possible that it holds without\nexplosion such antagonistic types as the many charming Americans we are\nconstantly meeting, and at the same time--\" looking at a group who were\nactually singing and beating time on their glasses with knives and\nforks--\"those!\"\n\nA French officer's comment to an American officer with whom he was talking\nin a club in Paris, quite unconsciously tells the same tale:\n\n\"You are _liaison_ officer, I suppose, with the Americans? But may I be\npermitted to ask why you wear their uniform?\"\n\nThe other smiled: \"I am an American!\"\n\n\"You an American? Impossible! Why, you speak French like a Parisian, you\nhave the manner of a great gentleman!\" (_un grand seigneur_,) which would\nindicate that the average American does not speak perfect French nor have\nbeautiful manners. There is much excuse for not speaking foreign\nlanguages, but there is no excuse whatever for having offensive manners\nand riding rough-shod over people who own the land--not we, who seem to\nthink we do.\n\nAs for \"souvenir hunters,\" perhaps they can explain wherein their\npilfering of another's property differs from petty thieving--a distinction\nwhich the owner can scarcely be expected to understand. Those who write\ntheir names, defacing objects of beauty with their vainglorious smudges\nand scribblings, are scarcely less culpable.\n\nIn France, in Spain, in Italy, grace and politeness of manner is as\nessential to merest decency as being clothed. In the hotels that are \"used\nto us\" (something of a commentary!) our lack of politeness is tolerated;\nbut don't think for a moment it is not paid for! The officer referred to\nabove, who had had the advantage of summer after summer spent in Europe as\na boy, was charged just about half what another must pay who has \"the\nrudeness of a savage.\"\n\nBut good manners are good manners everywhere, except that in Latin and\nAsiatic countries we must, as it seems to us, exaggerate politeness. We\nmust, in France and Italy, bow smilingly; we must, in Spain and the East,\nbow gravely; but in any event, it is necessary everywhere, except under\nthe American and British flags, to _bow_--though your bow is often little\nmore than a slight inclination of the head, and a smile--and to show some\nceremony in addressing people.\n\nWhen you go into a shop in France or Italy, you must smile and bow and\nsay, \"Good morning, madam,\" or \"Good evening, monsieur,\" and \"Until we\nmeet again,\" when you leave. If you can't say \"Au revoir,\" say \"Good\nafternoon\" in English, but at all events say _something_ in a polite tone\nof voice, which is much more important than the words themselves. To be\ncivilly polite is not difficult--it is merely a matter of remembering. To\nfail to say \"good morning\" to a _concierge_, a chambermaid, or a small\ntradesman in France, treating him (or her) as though he did not exist, is\nnot evidence of your grandeur but of your ignorance. A French duchess\nwould not _think_ of entering the littlest store without saying, \"Good\nmorning, madame,\" to its proprietress, and if she is known to her at all,\nwithout making enquiries concerning the health of the various members of\nher family. Nor would she fail to say, \"Good morning, Auguste,\" or\n\"Marie,\" to her own servants.\n\n\n=EUROPE'S UNFLATTERING OPINION OF US=\n\nFor years we Americans have swarmed over the face of the world, taking it\nfor granted that the earth's surface belongs to us because we can pay for\nit, and it is rather worse than ever since the war, when the advantages of\nexchange add bitterness to irritation.\n\nAnd yet there are many who are highly indignant when told that, as a type,\nwe are not at all admired abroad. Instead of being indignant, how much\nsimpler and better it would be to make ourselves admirable, especially\nsince it is those who most lack cultivation who are most indignant. The\nvery well-bred may be mortified and abashed, but they can't be indignant\nexcept with their fellow countrymen who by their shocking behavior make\nEurope's criticism just.\n\nUnderstanding of, and kind-hearted consideration for the feelings of\nothers are the basic attributes of good manners. Without observation,\nunderstanding is impossible--even in our own country where the attitude of\nour neighbors is much the same as our own. It is not hard to appreciate,\ntherefore, that to understand the point of view of people entirely foreign\nto ourselves, requires intuitive perception as well as cultivation in a\nvery high degree.\n\n\n=AMERICANS IN EUROPEAN SOCIETY=\n\nIt is only in musical comedy that one can go into a strange city and be\npicked out of the crowd and invited to the tables of the high of the land,\nbecause one looks as though one might be agreeable! To see anything of\nsociety in the actual world it is necessary to have friends, either\nAmericans living or \"stationed\" or married abroad; or to take letters of\nintroduction. Taking letters of introduction should never be done\ncarelessly, because of the obligation that they impose. But to go to a\nstrange country and see nothing of its social life, is like a blind\nperson's going to the theater, and the only way a stranger can know people\nis through the letters he brings.\n\nUnder ordinary circumstances no knowledge whatsoever beyond the social\namenities the world over are necessary. A dinner abroad is exactly the\nsame as one here. You enter a room, you bow, you shake hands, you say,\n\"How do you do.\" You sit at table, you talk of impersonal things, say\n\"Good-by\" and \"Thank you\" to your hostess, and you leave.\n\nThe matter of addressing people of title correctly is of little\nimportance. The beautiful Lady Oldworld (who was Alice Town) was asked one\nday by a fellow countryman, what she called this person of title and that\none, and she replied:\n\n\"I'm not sure that I know! Why should I call them at all?\" which was a\nperfectly sensible answer. One never says anything but \"you\" to the person\nspoken to; and it might be an excellent thing not to know how to speak\nabout anyone with a title, as it would prevent one's mentioning them.\n\nHaving gone into the subject thus far, however, it may be added that if at\na dinner you are put next to a Duke, if it is necessary to call him\nanything except \"you,\" you would say \"Duke.\" Unless you are waiting on the\ntable instead of sitting at it, you would not say, \"Your Grace\" and not\neven _then_ \"My Lord Duke.\" Neither, unless you are a valet or a\nchambermaid, would you say \"Your Lordship\" to an Earl! If you are a lady,\nyou call him \"Lord Arlington.\" If you know him really well, you call him\n\"Arlington.\" To a knight you say, \"Sir Arthur,\" which sounds familiar, but\nthere is nothing else you can call him.\n\nIn England a stranger is not supposed to introduce anyone, so that titles\nof address are not necessary then either; but if you happen to be the\nhostess and French or Americans are present, who like introductions, you\nintroduce Sir Arthur Dryden to the Duke and Duchess of Overthere, or to\nPrince and Princess Capri. In talking to her, the latter would be called\n\"Princess\" and her husband \"Prince Capri\" or \"Prince\" or by those who know\nhim well, \"Capri.\"\n\n\n=PRESENTATION AT COURT=\n\nFrequently American men are presented at the British Court at levees held\nby the King for the purpose. Such men are of course distinguished citizens\nwho have been in some branch of public service, or who have contributed\nsomething to art, science, history or progress.\n\nAn American lady to be eligible for presentation at a foreign Court should\nbe either the wife or daughter of a distinguished American citizen or be\nherself notable in some branch of learning or accomplishment.\n\nIt is absolutely necessary that such a candidate take letters of\nintroduction to the American Ambassador,[C] or Minister if in a country\nwhere we have a Legation instead of an Embassy. She would enclose her\nletters in a note to the Ambassadress asking that her name be put on the\nlist for presentation. The propriety of this request is a very difficult\nsubject to advise upon, in that it is better that the suggestion come from\nthe Ambassador rather than from oneself. It is, however, perfectly\npermissible for one whose presentation is appropriate, but who may perhaps\nnot know the Ambassador or his wife personally, to do as suggested above.\nIt must also be remembered that rarely more than three or perhaps five\npersons are presented at any one time, so that the difficulty of obtaining\na place on the list is obvious.\n\nAn American lady is presented by the American Ambassadress (or the wife of\nthe American Minister) or by the wife of the Charg\u00e9 d'Affaires if the\nAmbassadress be absent; or occasionally by the Doyenne of the diplomatic\ncorps at the request of the American Embassy.\n\nIt would be futile to attempt giving details of full court dress or\nespecial details of etiquette, as these vary not alone with countries, but\nwith time! If you are about to be presented, you will surely be told all\nthat is necessary by the person presenting you. These details, after all,\nmerely comprise the exact length of train or other particulars of dress,\nthe hour you are to be at such and such a door, where you are to stand,\nand how many curtsies or bows you are to make. In all other and essential\nparticulars you behave as you would in any and every circumstance of\nformality. In general outline, however, it would be safe to say that on\nthe day of the ceremony you drive to the Palace at a specified hour,\nwearing specified clothes and carrying your card of invitation in your\nhand. Your wraps are left in the carriage (or motor-car), you enter the\nPalace and are shown into a room where you wait, and wait and WAIT! until\nat last you are admitted to the Audience Chamber where you approach the\nreceiving Royalties; you curtsy deeply before them and then back out.\n\nOr else--you stand on an assigned spot while the King or Queen or both\nmake the tour of those waiting, who curtsy (or bow) deeply at their\napproach and again at their withdrawal.\n\nIf you are spoken to at length, you answer as under any other\ncircumstances, exactly as a polite child answers his elders. You do not\nspeak unless spoken to. If your answer is long you need say nothing except\nthe answer; if short, you add \"Sir\" to the King and \"Madam\" to the Queen.\nThis seemingly democratic title is as a matter of fact the correct one for\nall Royalty. \"Yes, sir.\" \"Very much indeed, Madam.\" \"I think so, Madam.\"\n\n[Footnote C: In South America alone, where out of courtesy to those who\nalso consider themselves \"Americans,\" the Embassies and Legations of our\ncountry are known as those of The United States of America. But in all\nother countries of the world we are known simply as \"Americans\"--it is the\nonly name we have. We are not United Staters or United Statian--there is\nnot even a word to apply to us! To speak of the American Minister to this\ncountry or that, and of the American Embassy in Paris for instance, is\nentirely correct.]\n\n\n=FOREIGN LANGUAGES=\n\nIn the Latin countries, grace and facility of speech is an object of\nlifelong cultivation--and no one is considered an educated person who can\nnot speak several languages well. Those who speak many fluently, by the\nway, are seldom those who constantly interlard their own tongue with words\nfrom another.\n\nNot to understand any foreign languages would be a decided handicap in\nEuropean society, where conversation is very apt to turn polyglot,\nbeginning in one tongue and going on in a second and ending in a third. So\nthat one who knows only English is often in the position of a deaf person,\neven though Europeans are invariably polite and never let a conversation\nrun long in a language which all those present do not understand. It might\neasily happen that a French lady and an American, neither understanding\nthe tongue of the other, meet at the house of an Italian, where there is\nalso an Italian monolinguist, so that the hostess has to talk in three\nlanguages at once.\n\nIt is unreasonable to expect the average American to be a linguist; we are\ntoo far removed from foreign countries. As a matter of fact, if you would\nmake yourself agreeable, it is much better (unless your facility was\nacquired as a child or you have a talent amounting to genius for accent\nand construction), to make it a rule when you lunch or dine with Europeans\nto talk English, since all Latins acutely suffer at hearing their language\ndistorted. English, on the other hand, is not beautiful in sound to the\nforeign ear; it is a series of esses and shushes, lumped with consonants\nlike an iron-wheeled cart bumping over a cobble-stoned street. The Latin's\naccent in English is annoying even to us at times, but the English accent\nin French, Italian or Spanish is murderous! Furthermore, the Latin\npassionately loves his language in the way the Westerner loves his city;\nhe simply can not endure to have it abused, and execrates the person who\ndoes so. And, proportionately, he loves the few who prove they share his\nlove by speaking it creditably.\n\n\n=TO IMPROVE ONE'S ACCENT=\n\nIf you want to improve your accent, nothing can so help you as going to\nthe theater abroad until your ears literally absorb the sounds! All people\nare imitative. There are few who do not gradually lose the purity of a\ngood foreign accent when long away from Europe, and all speak more\nfluently when their ears become accustomed to the sound.\n\nThe theater is not only the best possible place to hear correctly\nenunciated speech, but a play of contemporary life is equally valuable as\na study in manners. There is also a suavity of grace in the way Europeans\nbow and stand and sit, and in the way they speak, that is unconsciously\nimitated. These \"manners\" need not--in fact, should not--be gushing or\nmincing, but you gradually perceive that jerking ramrod motions and\nstalking into a drawing-room like a grenadier are less impressive than\nawkward.\n\n\n=THE SPOILED AMERICAN GIRL=\n\nThe subject of American manners, as they appear to Europeans, cannot be\ndismissed without comment on a reprehensible type of American girl who\nflourishes on shipboard, on tours, and in public places generally--but\nmost particularly in the large and expensive hotels of Continental\nresorts.\n\nIf she and her family have a \"home,\" they are never in it, and if they\nhave any object in life other than letting her follow her own unhampered\ninclinations, it is not apparent to the ordinary observer. Such a girl is\nalways over-dressed, she wears every fashion in its extremest\nexaggeration, she sparkles with jewelry, and reeks of scent, she switches\nherself this way and that, and is always posing in public view and playing\nto the public gallery. She generally has a small brother who refuses to go\nto bed at night, or to stop making the piazza chairs into a train of cars,\nor to use the public halls as a skating rink. When he is not making a\nnoise, he is eating. And his \"elegant\" sister looks upon him with disdain.\n\nSister, meanwhile, jingling with chains and bangles, decked in scarfs and\ntulle and earrings, leans on or against whatever happens to be convenient,\nflirting with any casual stranger who comes along. She invariably goes to\nher meals alone--evidently thinking her parents should be kept apart from\nher. She is never away from the Kurhaus or Casino, abroad or the hotel\nlobby in America. She is nearly always alone, and the book she is\nperpetually reading is always opened at the same page, and she is sure to\nlook up as you pass. She is very ready to be \"picked up\" and to confide\nher life's history, past, present and future, to any stranger, especially\na young one of the opposite sex. She is rude only to her mother and\nfather. She is also (we know, but Europe doesn't) a perfectly \"good\" girl.\nHer lack of etiquette is shocking, but her morals are above reproach. She\ndoes not even mean to be rude to her parents, and she has no idea that the\nthings she does are exactly those which condemn her in the opinion of\nstrangers. If she were constantly with, and obviously devoted to her\nmother, she would make an infinitely better impression, both as to good\nform and as to heart, than by segregating herself so that she can be\njoined by any haphazard youth who strolls into view, and thereby\ncheapening not only herself but the name of the American girl in general.\n\nCuriously enough, if she marries in Europe, she is apt to \"settle down\"\nand become an altogether admirable example of American-European womanhood,\nbecause she is sound fruit at heart--merely wrapped in tawdry gilt paper\ntrimming by her adoring but ignorantly unwise parents who, in their effort\nto show her off, disguise the very qualities which should have been\naccentuated.\n\n\n=LADIES TRAVELING ALONE IN EUROPE=\n\nEuropeans can not possibly understand how any lady of social position can\nbe without a maid. A lady traveling alone, therefore, has this trifling\nhandicap to start with. It is a very snobbish opinion, and one who has the\ntemerity to attempt traveling all by herself has undoubtedly the ability\nto see it through. She need after all merely behave with extreme quietness\nand dignity and she can go from one end of the world to the other without\nmolestation or even difficulty--especially if she is anything of a\nlinguist.\n\nIn going from one place to another, it is wiser to write as long as\npossible ahead for accommodations--possibly giving the name of the one (if\nany) who recommended the hotel. But in going far off into Asia or other\n\"difficult\" countries, she would better join friends or at least a\npersonally conducted tour, unless she has the mettle of a Burton or a\nStanley.\n\n\n=MOTORING IN EUROPE=\n\nMotoring in Europe is perfectly feasible and easy. A car has to be put in\na crate to cross the ocean, but in crossing the channel between England\nand France, no difficulty whatever is experienced. All information\nnecessary can be had at any of the automobile clubs, and in going from one\ncountry to another, you have merely to show your passports at the border\nproperly vis\u00e9d and pay a deposit to insure your not selling the car out of\nthe country, which is refunded when you come back.\n\nGarage charges are reasonable, but gasoline is high. Roads are beautiful,\nand traveling--once you have your car--is much cheaper than by train.\n\nOnce off the beaten track, a tourist who has not a working knowledge of\nthe language of the country he is driving through, is at a disadvantage,\nbut plenty of people constantly do it, so it is at least not\ninsurmountable. With English you can go to most places--with English and\nFrench nearly everywhere. The Michelin guide shows you in a little\ndrawing, exactly the type of hotels you will find in each approaching town\nand the price of accommodation, so that you can choose your own stopping\nplaces accordingly.\n\n\"And etiquette?\" you ask. There is no etiquette of motoring that differs\nfrom all other etiquette. Except of course not to be a road hog--or a road\npig! People who take up the entire road are not half the offenders that\nothers are who picnic along the side of it and leave their old papers and\nfood all over everywhere. For that matter, any one who shoves himself\nforward in any situation in life, he who pushes past, bumping into you,\nwalking over you, in order to get a first seat on a train, or to be the\nfirst off a boat, any one who pushes himself out of his turn, or takes\nmore than his share, anywhere or of anything--is precisely that sort of an\nanimal.\n\n\n=ON A CONTINENTAL TRAIN=\n\nEuropeans usually prefer to ride backwards, and as an American prefers to\nface the engine, it works out beautifully. It is not etiquette to talk\nwith fellow passengers, in fact it is very middle-class. If you are in a\nsmoking carriage (all European carriages are smoking unless marked \"Ladies\nalone\" or \"No smoking\") and ladies are present, it is polite to ask if you\nmay smoke. Language is not necessary, as you need merely to look at your\ncigar and bow with an interrogatory expression, whereupon your fellow\npassengers bow assent and you smoke.\n\n\n=THE PERFECT TRAVELER=\n\nOne might say the perfect traveler is one whose digestion is perfect,\nwhose disposition is cheerful, who can be enthusiastic under the most\ndiscouraging circumstances, to whom discomfort is of no moment, and who\npossesses at least a sense of the ridiculous, if not a real sense of\nhumor! The perfect traveler furthermore, is one who possesses the virtue\nof punctuality; one who has not forgotten something at the last minute,\nand whose bags are all packed and down at the hour for the start. Those\nwho fuss and flurry about being ready, or those whose disposition is\neasily upset or who are inclined to be gloomy, should not travel--unless\nthey go alone. Nothing can spoil a journey more than some one who is\neasily put out of temper and who always wants to do something the others\ndo not. Whether traveling with your family or with comparative strangers,\nyou must realize that your personal likes and dislikes have at least on\noccasion to be subordinated to the likes and dislikes of others; nor can\nyou always be comfortable, or have good weather, or make perfect\nconnections, or find everything to your personal satisfaction; and you\nonly add to your own discomfort and chagrin, as well as to the discomfort\nof every one else, by refusing to be philosophical. Those who are bad\nsailors should not go on yachting parties; they are always abjectly\nwretched, and are of no use to themselves or any one else. Those who hate\nwalking should not start out on a tramp that is much too far for them and\nexpect others to turn back when they get tired. They need not \"start\" to\nbegin with, but having once started, they must see it through.\n\nThere is no greater test of a man's (or a woman's) \"wearing\" qualities\nthan traveling with him. He who is always keen and ready for anything,\ndelighted with every amusing incident, willing to overlook shortcomings,\nand apparently oblivious of discomfort, is, needless to say, the one first\nincluded on the next trip.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVIII\n\nGROWTH OF GOOD TASTE IN AMERICA\n\n\nGood taste or bad is revealed in everything we are, do, or have. Our\nspeech, manners, dress, and household goods--and even our friends--are\nevidences of the propriety of our taste, and all these have been the\nsubject of this book. Rules of etiquette are nothing more than sign-posts\nby which we are guided to the goal of good taste.\n\nWhether we Americans are drifting toward or from finer perceptions, both\nmental and spiritual, is too profound a subject to be taken up except on a\nbroader scope than that of the present volume. Yet it is a commonplace\nremark that older people invariably feel that the younger generation is\nspeeding swiftly on the road to perdition. But whether the present younger\ngeneration is really any nearer to that frightful end than any previous\none, is a question that we, of the present older generation, are scarcely\nqualified to answer. To be sure, manners seem to have grown lax, and many\nof the amenities apparently have vanished. But do these things merely seem\nso to us because young men of fashion do not pay party calls nowadays and\nthe young woman of fashion is informal? It is difficult to maintain that\nyouth to-day is so very different from what it has been in other periods\nof the country's history, especially as \"the capriciousness of beauty,\"\nthe \"heartlessness\" and \"carelessness\" of youth, are charges of a too\nsuspiciously bromidic flavor to carry conviction.\n\nThe present generation is at least ahead of some of its \"very proper\"\npredecessors in that weddings do not have to be set for noon because a\nbridegroom's sobriety is not to be counted on later in the day! That young\npeople of to-day prefer games to conversation scarcely proves\ndegeneration. That they wear very few clothes is not a symptom of decline.\nThere have always been recurring cycles of undress, followed by muffling\nfrom shoe-soles to chin. We have not yet reached the undress of Pauline\nBonaparte, so the muffling period may not be due!\n\nHowever, leaving out the mooted question whether etiquette may not soon be\na subject for an obituary rather than a guide-book, one thing is certain:\nwe have advanced prodigiously in esthetic taste.\n\nNever in the recollection of any one now living has it been so easy to\nsurround oneself with lovely belongings. Each year's achievement seems to\nstride away from that of the year before in producing woodwork, ironwork,\nglass, stone, print, paint and textile that is lovelier and lovelier. One\ncan not go into the shops or pass their windows on the streets without\nbeing impressed with the ever-growing taste of their display. Nor can one\nlook into the magazines devoted to gardens and houses and\nhouse-furnishings and fail to appreciate the increasing wealth of the\nbeautiful in environment.\n\nThat such exquisite \"best\" as America possessed in her Colonial houses and\ngardens and furnishings should ever have been discarded for the atrocities\nof the period after the Civil War, is comparable to nothing but Titania's\nMidsummer Night's Dream madness that made her believe an ass's features\nmore beautiful than those of Apollo!\n\nHappily, however, since we never do things by halves, we are studying and\ncultivating and buying and making, and trying to forget and overcome that\nterrible marriage of our beautiful Colonial ancestress with the\ndark-wooded, plush-draped, jig-sawed upstart of vulgarity and ignorance.\nIn another country her type would be lost in his, forever! But in a\ncountry that sent a million soldiers across three thousand miles of ocean,\nin spite of every obstacle and in the twinkling of an eye, why even\ncomment that good taste is pouring over our land as fast as periodicals,\nbooks and manufacturers can take it. Three thousand miles east and west,\ntwo thousand miles north and south, white tiled bathrooms have sprung like\nmushrooms seemingly in a single night, charming houses, enchanting\ngardens, beautiful cities, cultivated people, created in thousands upon\nthousands of instances in the short span of one generation. Certain great\nhouses abroad have consummate quality, it is true, but for every one of\nthese, there are a thousand that are mediocre, even offensive. In our own\ncountry, beautiful houses and appointments flourish like field flowers in\nsummer; not merely in the occasional gardens of the very rich, but\neverywhere.\n\nAnd all this means? Merely one more incident added to the many great facts\nthat prove us a wonderful nation. (But this is an aside merely, and not to\nbe talked about to anyone except just ourselves!) At the same time it is\nno idle boast that the world is at present looking toward America; and\nwhatever we become is bound to lower or raise the standards of life. The\nother countries are old, we are youth personified! We have all youth's\nglorious beauty and strength and vitality and courage. If we can keep\nthese attributes and add finish and understanding and perfect taste in\nliving and thinking, we need not dwell on the Golden Age that is past, but\nbelieve in the Golden Age that is sure to be.\n\n\n\n\n=INDEX=\n\n    Acceptance of an invitation, 122-123;\n      to a formal dinner, 187-188;\n      to an informal dinner, 125;\n      to a wedding, 111.\n\n    Acknowledgment of Christmas presents, 407-408;\n      of wedding presents, 320;\n      of messages of condolence, 406-408.\n\n    Address, forms of. See: Forms of address.\n\n    Address, notification of, 180;\n      by bride and groom, 108-109.\n\n    Address on envelopes, 460, 486, 488;\n      on letters, 450, 455, 460, 461;\n      on visiting cards, 74-76.\n\n    Afternoon parties, chapter on, 165-176.\n\n    Afternoon teas. See: Teas.\n\n    Ambassador, close of letter to, 456;\n      function of in presentation at court, 609;\n      how to address, 488;\n      how to announce as a guest, 214;\n      how to introduce, 4, 489.\n\n    Americans abroad, 604-616.\n\n    Announcement of a death, 390;\n      of an engagement, 89, 304-306, 309;\n      of a second marriage, 108;\n      of a wedding,106-107.\n\n    Announcing dinner, 217.\n\n    Announcing guests, at afternoon tea, 167;\n      at dinner, 214-215.\n\n    Answering the door, 145. See also:\n      \"Not at home.\"\n\n    Anthem, national, 23.\n\n    Apology, form of, 23-24;\n      letters of, 462-463;\n      at the theater, 41.\n\n    Archbishop, close of letter to, 489;\n      how to address, 488;\n      how to introduce, 489.\n\n    Argumentativeness, 50.\n\n    Arm, etiquette of offering and taking, 30.\n\n    Artichokes, how to eat, 583.\n\n    Asking for a dance, 267, 270.\n\n    Asparagus, how to eat, 582.\n\n    Assemblies, 272-275.\n\n    Assemblyman, 486, 487.\n\n    At home with dancing, invitations to an, 112-116.\n\n    Au revoir, avoidance of use of, 19.\n\n    Automobiles. See: Motoring; Vehicles.\n\n\n    Baby, clothes for, at a christening, 385;\n      letters of thanks for gifts to, 468;\n      training in table manners, 571.\n\n    Bachelor's apartment, tea in, 292;\n      dinner, 230, 336-337, 375;\n      party, 71, 296-298;\n      theater party, 38.\n\n    Bachelor girl, 295.\n\n    Ball dress, 541, 546-547, 557, 603;\n      in opera box, 37.\n\n    Ballroom, etiquette in, 258-262;\n      for an afternoon tea, 167.\n\n    Balls, chapter on, 250-275;\n      clothes for, 569;\n      gloves at, 20;\n      hand-shaking at, 20;\n      introductions at, 10, 16;\n      invitations to, 112-116;\n      for a d\u00e9butante, 276-279;\n      public, 271-275.\n\n    Beginning a letter, 492-494.\n\n    Behavior, good, fundamentals of, 506-510.\n\n    Best man, 331, 344;\n      clothes of, 333;\n      duties of on wedding day, 345-346;\n      during the marriage ceremony, 358, 359, 360;\n      after the marriage ceremony, 361;\n      in rehearsal, 341, 342;\n      at the wedding breakfast, 368.\n\n    Best Society, chapter on, 1-3;\n      definition of, 3.\n\n    Beverages at afternoon teas, 167, 168,\n      169, 170, 173, 174;\n      at ball suppers, 257;\n      at formal dinners, 205, 209;\n      at luncheons, 244-245;\n      at wedding breakfasts, 365, 368.\n\n    Big dinners, 225-226.\n\n    Birds, how to eat, 584, 585.\n\n    Bishop, close of letter to, 489;\n      how to address, 488;\n      how to introduce, 5, 489.\n\n    Bones, management of, at table, 583-584.\n\n    Boots, 551, 568.\n\n    Bouquet, bridal, 344, 358, 359;\n      of bridesmaid, 328.\n\n    Boutonni\u00e8re, 334, 344, 354, 357, 551, 563.\n\n    Bowing, etiquette of, 20, 21, 23, 24-27, 93, 508;\n      at court, 610.\n\n    Bread and butter, how to eat, 583.\n\n    Bread and butter letters, 468-470.\n\n    Breakfast, invitations to, 238-239;\n      for country house guests, 427-429;\n      wedding, 364-368.\n\n    Bridal procession, 339-342, 357-358.\n\n    Bridal veil, 350, 351.\n\n    Bride, acknowledgment of gifts by, 320-321;\n      acquiring of social position by, 66-68;\n      calls of, 66;\n      calls on, 67-91;\n      gifts of to bridesmaids, 336;\n      gifts to by groom, 344;\n      giving away of, 353, 359;\n      house of on wedding day, 347-350;\n      letters of thanks to relatives-in-law, 471;\n      during the marriage ceremony, 358, 359, 360;\n      in rehearsal, 338-342;\n      at the wedding breakfast, 362, 368;\n      as a chaperon, 289;\n      as a guest of honor, 11.\n\n    Bride's going away dress, 370.\n\n    Bride's mother, cards left with, 87.\n\n    Bride's parents, 340-342, 353, 357-360, 366;\n      expenses of for wedding, 377-378.\n\n    Bride's table, 365.\n\n    Bridegroom, 341-342, 357-360;\n      clothes of, 332, 333;\n      expenses of, 337, 342-344, 378;\n      as a guest of honor, 11;\n      parents of, at wedding reception, 364;\n      wedding given by, 316-318.\n\n    Bridegroom's mother, card left with, 87.\n\n    Bridesmaids, 328-332, 339-340, 342, 351, 353, 358-361, 368.\n\n    Bridesmaids' luncheon, 335-336.\n\n    Bridesmaids' and ushers' dinner, 336.\n\n    Bridge, 524-527;\n      introduction at, 12;\n      invitation to, 124, 128-129.\n\n    Buffet at afternoon teas, 167;\n      luncheons, 248-249.\n\n    Bundles, carrying of, 29.\n\n    Burials, women at, 327.\n\n    Business etiquette, 530-539;\n      letters, 455, 460-461;\n      relations between men and women, 23, 506, 530-532;\n      suits, 152, 246, 566-567, 570;\n      visits, 15, 23, 533-534.\n\n    Butler, 142-144, 161-163, 167, 186-187, 201-202, 214, 425.\n\n    Butter, avoidance of at formal dinner, 206, 585.\n\n\n    Cabaret, supper at, 293.\n\n    Cabinet, member of, close of letter to, 456, 487;\n      how to address, 486;\n      how to announce as a guest, 214;\n      how to introduce, 487.\n\n    Cardinal, close of letter to, 487;\n      how to address, 486; how to introduce, 4, 487.\n\n    Calls. See: Visits.\n\n    Camp, house party in, chapter on, 440-447;\n      invitation to, 127.\n\n    Cards, of address, 108;\n      of admittance to church weddings, 102;\n      of general invitation, 118;\n      of introduction to a club, 521;\n      as invitations, 124, 168, 169;\n      at funerals, 408;\n      with gifts, 321, 322;\n      menu, 210;\n      place, 210;\n      visiting, chapter on, 73-97.\n\n    Carriages. See: Vehicles.\n\n    Cars. See: Street cars; Motoring; Vehicles.\n\n    Carving, 229-230.\n\n    Cereal, how to eat, 573.\n\n    Celebrities, afternoon teas in honor of, 168.\n\n    Chaperon, 138;\n      chapter on, 288-298;\n      at public balls, 271.\n\n    Chic woman, 542.\n\n    Chicken, how to eat, 584, 585.\n\n    Children, cards of, 78;\n      conversation about, 49;\n      invitations to, 459, 460;\n      parties for, 580-581;\n      table manners of, 571-582;\n      training of, 587-588, 592;\n      at afternoon tea, 579-580;\n      on railway trains, 594.\n\n    Christenings, chapter on, 380-386.\n\n    Christmas presents, 467-468.\n\n    Church, greetings in, 19-20;\n      leave-taking at, 20.\n\n    Church weddings, 102-103; 314-316; 339-342;\n      invitations to, 99-100.\n\n    Cigars. See: Smoking.\n\n    Circus, etiquette at, 46.\n\n    Clergy, how to introduce, 4-5.\n\n    Clergyman, close of letter to, 456, 489;\n      how to address, 488;\n      how to introduce, 489;\n      visiting card of, 78;\n      wedding fee of, 344.\n\n    Closing a letter, 455-458, 460, 487, 489-490, 494-496.\n\n    Clothes, at an afternoon tea, 165, 547, 556;\n      at a christening, 385-386;\n      at a concert, 547;\n      at a funeral, 408;\n      at a house party in camp, 441-442;\n      at luncheon, 246;\n      at the opera, 35, 547, 549;\n      at theater, 42-43, 547, 569;\n      on a visit, 97;\n      at a wedding, 328-330, 332-334, 556, 569-570;\n      for a d\u00e9butante, 281;\n      for a gentleman, chapter on, 562-570;\n      for a lady, chapter on, 540-570;\n      for servants, 138, 140, 143-144, 151-152, 246-247;\n      for people with limited incomes, 543-545, 553-557.\n\n    Clubs, chapter on, 511-523;\n      conversation in, 508.\n\n    Colloquial language, 62.\n\n    Colors, passing of the, 23.\n\n    Companion, 138.\n\n    Concert, clothes for, 547.\n\n    Condolence, 406-408;\n      letters of, 483-485;\n      visits of, 88, 93.\n\n    Congratulations, to bride and groom, 362;\n      letters of, 481-483.\n\n    Congressman, 486, 487.\n\n    Consul, 488, 489.\n\n    Contradiction, 50-51.\n\n    Conspicuousness, avoidance of, 28.\n\n    Conventions for the young girl, 292-294.\n\n    Conversation, 506-508;\n      chapter on, 48-57;\n      foreign words in, 19;\n      how to begin, 8;\n      at afternoon tea, 170;\n      at dinner, 216, 221, 223-225;\n      at the home table, 592;\n      at the opera, 37;\n      on a railway train, 595;\n      on a steamer, 599, 600, 602;\n      on the street, 28;\n      at the table, 10, 12, 576-577;\n      at the theater, 40-41;\n      at a wedding, 355, 362-363;\n      without an introduction, 10, 12, 599-600.\n\n    Cook, 146-147, 178, 234-235.\n\n    Corn, how to eat, 573.\n\n    Corn on the cob, when to eat, 582.\n\n    Correct usage of words and phrases, 58-62.\n\n    Correspondence. See: Letters.\n\n    Country clothes, 548-550; 568, 570; 603.\n\n    Country clubs, 516-517, 520.\n\n    Country house, chapter on, 410-439;\n      invitations to, 126;\n      letters of thanks for visits to, 468-473;\n      stationery, 451-453.\n\n    Court, presentation at, 609-610.\n\n    Courtship, 299-301.\n\n    Crests, 451.\n\n    Cuff links, 144, 152, 567.\n\n    Cup, use of, 573.\n\n    Cut direct, 26-27.\n\n    Cutaway coat, 246, 332, 566, 569.\n\n    Cutting in at a dance, 269-270.\n\n\n    Dances, chapter on, 250-275;\n      introductions at, 16;\n      invitations to, 112-116, 124, 128, 251-254, 259-260;\n      at an afternoon tea, 166;\n      at a wedding, 369.\n\n    Dating a letter, 453.\n\n    Day dress, 555-556.\n\n    Days at home, 82, 86-87.\n\n    Death, notice of, 387, 390.\n\n    Debts, 506, 509, 523.\n\n    D\u00e9butante, 11, 80, 114-116, 252, 257;\n      chapter on, 276-287.\n\n    D\u00e9butante's card, 79;\n      theater party, 43-46.\n\n    Dessert, 207-209, 573.\n\n    Devices on stationery, 451-453.\n\n    Dining-room, appointments of, 192-194.\n\n    Dining-saloon etiquette, 509-10.\n\n    Dinner, announcement of, 162-163, 217;\n      clothes for, 546-547, 559, 569, 589, 603;\n      introductions at, 10, 12-13;\n      invitations to, 119, 124-125, 128, 188;\n      seating at, 162, 178-179, 196, 210-212, 229;\n      taking in to, 12, 217-218;\n      formal, chapter on, 177-230;\n      before the opera, 35;\n      before the theater, 38;\n      for bridesmaids and ushers; for engaged couples, 305-306;\n      for parents of groom-elect, 310;\n      for week-end guests, 418-419;\n      in camp, 444;\n      with limited equipment, chapter on, 231-237.\n\n    Dinner coat, 42.\n\n    Dishes, how to present, 206.\n\n    Dishing, 235.\n\n    Divorce, 507, 509.\n\n    Divorced woman, name of, 459;\n      visiting card of, 78.\n\n    Doctor, how to introduce, 5;\n      visiting cards of, 78.\n\n    Don'ts for d\u00e9butantes, 284;\n      for a hostess at country house, 431-435;\n      for setting the table, 199-200;\n      for writing a letter, 493, 502-503, 505.\n\n    Double cards, 79.\n\n    Drawing-room, 94, 184, 214, 224-225.\n\n    Dress. See: Clothes.\n\n    Drinking, 573-574.\n\n    Drinks. See: Beverages.\n\n    Duke, how to address, 608.\n\n\n    Earl, how to address, 608.\n\n    Eating difficult foods, 223, 582-585.\n\n    Eggs, how to eat, 574-584.\n\n    Elbows on the table, 585-586.\n\n    Elevator, removal of gentleman's hat in, 22.\n\n    Elopements, 301.\n\n    Engaged couples, afternoon tea in honor of, 168;\n      dinner for, 305-306;\n      entertainments for, 304;\n      photographs of in newspapers, 304;\n      visits of, 32.\n     See also: Fianc\u00e9e.\n\n\n    Engagements, chapter on, 299-311;\n      announcement of, 89;\n      congratulations on, 481-482;\n      letters to relatives on, 303.\n\n    Engraved cards of thanks, 474;\n      pew cards, 103;\n      visiting cards, 73-76.\n\n    English clothes, 553, 561-562.\n\n    Entertainments, introductions at, 10;\n      service at, 159-164;\n      after dinner, 225;\n      at camp, 445-446;\n      at country house, 430, 433-434;\n      for engaged couples, 304.\n\n    Envelopes, 450, 454.\n\n    Escorts, 31-32, 594-595.\n\n    Etiquette, scope of, 3.\n\n    European travel, 604-616.\n\n    Evening clothes, 144, 281, 318, 549, 557, 559, 563-564, 603.\n\n    Expenses, clothing, 543-545, 553-557;\n      funeral, 390-391;\n      wedding, 317, 329, 342-344, 376-378.\n\n    Ex-President of the United States, how to introduce, 5.\n\n    Family affairs, conversation about, 49, 506-507, 509, 592.\n\n    Fare, payment of, 31.\n\n    Fashion, 541-543, 557-558.\n\n    Father's consent to an engagement, 301.\n\n    Fianc\u00e9e, asking invitations for to a ball, 253;\n      etiquette for, 308;\n      gifts to by groom-elect, 310-311;\n      visits of, 95;\n      visits to, 88, 303.\n\n    Finger bowl, 208-209, 585.\n\n    Finger food, 582-585.\n\n    Flower girls, 330, 358.\n\n    Flowers, cards with, 79;\n      for d\u00e9butante, 277-278;\n      for fianc\u00e9e, 310-311;\n      for funerals, 394-395;\n      for the guest room, 417;\n      for the table, 193, 195, 591;\n      for a wedding, 315-316, 348-349.\n\n    Folding a note, 454.\n\n    Food, at an afternoon tea, 167-170, 172-173;\n      at a ball supper, 256-257;\n      in camp, 444-445;\n      for country house guests, 418, 427-428;\n      for formal dinner, 184, 188-190, 232-235;\n      for luncheon, 243-244;\n      on a train, 592-593;\n      for a wedding breakfast, 365, 368;\n      how to eat difficult foods, 223, 582-585.\n\n    Footmen, house, 144-146.\n\n    Foreign language, 610-612.\n\n    Foreigners, shaking hands with, 20;\n      titled, how to address, 608-609;\n      how to announce as guests, 215;\n      letters to, 490.\n\n    Fork, 196-197, 203-204;\n      use of, 573-575, 584-585.\n\n    Forms of address, 455, 486-489, 608-609.\n\n    Frock coat, 332, 566, 569.\n\n    Full dress, 35, 42, 569.\n\n    Funerals, chapter on, 387-409.\n\n    Furnishings, of a camp, 443;\n      of a dining-room, 192-194;\n      of a guest room, 414-417.\n\n    Furniture, 132-135.\n\n    Games, 12;\n      outdoor, 46-47;\n      and sports, chapter on, 524-529.\n     See also: Entertainments.\n\n    Garden party, 174-175;\n      dress for, 556.\n\n    Gentleman, The, 506-508.\n\n    Gentleman's stick, 22, 143, 45, 358, 360, 564.\n\n    Gifts, Christmas, 468;\n      wedding, 319-323;\n      to baby, 382, 468;\n      to bride by groom, 344;\n      to bridesmaids, 336;\n      to engaged couple, 306;\n      to fianc\u00e9e by groom-elect, 310-311;\n      to wedding ushers, 337;\n      of tickets for balls, concerts, etc., 43.\n\n    Girls. See: Young girl.\n\n    Gloves, 220, 246, 333-334, 344, 357, 544, 552, 554-556, 563;\n      removal of when shaking hands, 20;\n      bridegroom's, 333;\n      white, when worn by a gentleman, 35.\n\n    Godparents, 380-382.\n\n    Golf, 527.528;\n      invitation to, 128;\n      clubs, 517.\n\n    Good-bys. See: Leave taking.\n\n    Governor, close of letter to, 487;\n      how to address, 486;\n      how to announce as a guest, 214;\n      how to introduce, 487.\n\n    Greetings, chapter on, 18-21;\n      abroad, 606-607;\n      to mourners, 399.\n\n    Guest cards, 417-418;\n      lists, 186-187;\n      rooms, 413-417, 425-427.\n\n    Guests, announcement of, 161-162, 214-215;\n      introduction of, 11-12, 487, 489;\n      selection of, 72;\n      to country house, 419-420;\n      to d\u00e9butante's party, 280;\n      to formal dinner, 178, 185-186;\n      to a wedding, 312-314;\n      tipping by, 426-427.\n\n    Guests, distinguished, 11, 216.\n\n    Guests at an afternoon tea, 170;\n      at a christening, 380, 383;\n      at a country house, 410-412, 429-431, 435-439, 470;\n      at a club, 520-523;\n      at a formal dinner, 184, 210-212;\n      at a garden party, 175;\n      at luncheon, 240;\n      in opera box, 35;\n      on private car, 439;\n      on yacht, 439.\n     See also: Precedence;--Seating.\n\n\n    Handwriting, 448-449, 460.\n\n    Hanging the bell, 390.\n\n    Hat, 35, 245-246, 357, 544, 549, 555-556, 564, 566;\n      lifting of, 23-24;\n      removal of by a gentleman, 22-23, 25.\n\n    Headdress, 42, 319, 347, 544, 546-547, 552.\n\n    Healths to the bride, 337;\n      to an engaged couple, 305.\n\n    \"Hello\" as a greeting, 19-20.\n\n    Home, manners in the, 587-592.\n\n    Hospitality at parties, 175-176;\n      in a country house, chapter on, 410-439.\n\n    Host, bachelor as, 295-298;\n      payment of restaurant checks by, 32;\n      introductions by, 12;\n      at a ball, 260;\n      at a country house, 429;\n      at a dinner, 184, 211-212, 217;\n      at a garden party, 175.\n\n    Hostess, manners of, 218;\n      payment of restaurant checks by, 32;\n      presentation to at a dance or at the opera, 12.\n\n    Hostess at an afternoon tea, 167-170;\n      at a ball, 258-259;\n      in a country house, 411-413, 431-435;\n      at a dinner, 177-184, 210-212, 215-220, 227;\n      at a garden party, 175;\n      at a luncheon, 240.\n\n    Hotels, 596-597.\n\n    Hour, dinner, 201;\n      wedding, 314, 318-319;\n      week-end party, 411.\n\n    House, the well-appointed, chapter on, 131-164;\n      formal entertaining in, 159-164;\n      furniture in, 132-135;\n      organization of, 145-155;\n      servants in, 155-159;\n      service in, 135-145.\n\n    House party, introductions at, 10;\n      invitations to, 124, 130;\n      bachelor's, 296-298;\n      camp, 440-447,\n      country house, 411-439.\n\n    House suit, 565.\n\n    House wedding, 373-375.\n\n    Housekeeper, 140-141.\n\n    Housemaid, 148, 425-426.\n\n    Hunting clubs, 517.\n\n    Husband and wife, 54, 214, 413, 507,\n      509, 589-591.\n\n\n    Ice cream as dessert, 207-208.\n\n    Initials, in the signature of a letter, 458;\n      on visiting cards, 76-77;\n      on wedding presents, 322-323.\n\n    \"Introduce,\" when used in introductions, 4.\n\n    Introductions, chapter on, 4-17;\n      greetings at, 18-19;\n      letters of, 16-17, 475-478;\n      at a ball, 10, 16;\n      at bridge, 12;\n      at a dinner, 10, 12-13;\n      at a house party;\n      at a luncheon, 9-10;\n      at the opera, 36;\n      on a steamer, 601-602;\n      on the street, 13;\n      at a wedding, 11, 363;\n      of guests of honor, 11;\n      of important personages, 487, 489;\n      of titled foreigners, 608-609;\n      of a visitor to a club, 520-522;\n      self, 12, 602.\n\n    Invalids, return visits of, 96;\n      visits to, 88, 93.\n\n    Invitations, chapter on, 98-130;\n      asking for, 117-118;\n      cards in connection with, 83-84, 87, 118, 124, 168, 169;\n      by a chaperon, 291;\n      by telephone, 128-130, 238-239, 380;\n      to an at home with dancing, 112-116;\n      to a bachelor's party, 297-298;\n      to a ball or dance, 112-116, 124, 128, 251-254, 259-260;\n      to a breakfast, 238-239;\n      to bridge, 124, 128-129;\n      to camp, 127;\n      to children, 459-460;\n      to a christening, 380;\n      to country house, 419;\n      to a dinner, 119, 124-125, 128, 188;\n      to golf, 128;\n      to a luncheon, 120, 125-126, 238-239;\n      to a picnic, 124-128;\n      to a house party, 124, 130;\n      to a reception, 119;\n      to theater, 38-39;\n      to a wedding, 98-109, 111, 312-314;\n      to a wedding anniversary, 110.\n     See also: Guests, selection of.\n\n    Jewelry, 144, 544, 546-548, 567, 612;\n      for the bride, 344;\n      of mourners, 401;\n      at the opera, 37;\n      at the theater, 42.\n\n    Journeys of engaged couples, 310.\n\n    Judge, how to introduce, 5;\n      visiting cards of, 78.\n\n    Justice of the Supreme Court, close of letter to 487;\n      how to address, 486;\n      how to announce as a guest, 214;\n      how to introduce, 487.\n\n\n    Keeping dinner engagements, 187-188.\n\n    King. See: Court; Royalty.\n\n    Kissing, 96, 307, 362-363.\n\n    Kitchen-maid, 147-148.\n\n    Knife, 207;\n      use of, 574-575.\n\n    Knight, how to address, 608.\n\n\n    Lady traveling alone in Europe, 613-614.\n\n    Lady's maid, 150, 425.\n\n    Language, 58-64, 610-612.\n\n    Leave taking, at church, 20;\n      after dinner, 226-227;\n      after an introduction, 9, 19;\n      after a luncheon, 247;\n      after the opera, 37;\n      after a visit, 97.\n\n    Letters, chapter on, 491-505;\n      shorter, chapter on, 448-491.\n     See also specific subjects, e.g.: Beginning a letter;\n       Condolence, letters of; Address on envelopes.\n\n    Liquid food, 573-574.\n\n    Little dinner, 228-229.\n\n    Livery of footmen, 143-146;\n      mourning, 406.\n\n    Living alone by young girls or women, 289, 294.\n\n    Love letters, 502-504.\n\n    Luncheon, chapter on, 258-249;\n      introductions at, 9-10, 12;\n      invitations to, 120, 125-126, 238-239;\n      bridesmaids, 238-239.\n\n    Maid of honor at a wedding, 328, 330, 339, 351, 353, 358-360.\n\n    Management of servants, 155-159.\n\n    Manners, 530-539;\n      definition of, 2;\n      in clubs, 518-520;\n      at home, 587-592;\n      at the table, 371-586;\n      at the theater, 40-43;\n      of Americans abroad, 604-607, 612-613;\n      of a hostess, 218-219.\n\n    Married couples. See: Husband and wife;\n      young couples.\n\n    Married woman, how to introduce, 6;\n      how to shake hands with, 20;\n      name of, 458-459;\n      visiting card of, 77.\n      See also: Husband and wife.\n\n    Mayor, close of letter to, 487;\n      how to address, 486;\n      how to announce as a guest, 214;\n      how to introduce, 487.\n\n    Meeting, at church, 19-20;\n      in the Street, 20.\n\n    Men and women, relations between, 292-293, 502-303, 505-509.\n\n    Menus. See: Beverages; Food.\n\n    Menu cards, 210.\n\n    Military officer, visiting card of, 78.\n\n    Minister Plenipotentiary, 215, 488-489.\n\n    Mr. and Mrs. in conversation, 54;\n      Money, conversation about, 506;\n      and social position, 71-72, 410.\n\n    Motoring, 128, 293, 614-615.\n\n    Mourners, how to address, 399.\n\n    Mourning, 399-406;\n      bridesmaid in, 329;\n      for funeral, 392-393;\n      stationery, 453.\n\n    Moving pictures, 40, 293.\n\n    Music at a ball, 225;\n      at a dinner, 250, 251;\n      at a funeral, 396;\n      at a wedding, 315-316, 338-342, 357-359.\n\n    Musicale, 124.\n\n\n    Names, 54, 76-78, 458-459, 508.\n\n    Napkin ring, 204.\n\n    Napkins, 220-221, 241, 444, 575.\n\n    National anthem, 23.\n\n    Neighbors, new, afternoon tea in honor of, 168.\n      See also: Strangers, 168.\n\n    Newspapers, 304, 390, 417, 509.\n\n    \"Not at home,\" 84-86.\n\n    Note of apology, 462-463.\n\n    Nurse, 152-153.\n\n\n    Office buildings, etiquette in, 22.\n\n    Open air gatherings, 46.\n\n    Opera, 12, 20, 310, 546-547, 569;\n      chapter on, 33-37.\n\n    Orange blossoms at second marriage, 375.\n\n\n    P.P.C. cards, 79.\n\n    Packages, 29.\n\n    Pall bearers, 391-392, 569.\n\n    Paris clothes, 353, 539-561.\n\n    Parlor maid, 148.\n\n    Party calls, 81.\n\n    Parties, attendance of a lady at, 32;\n      kissing at, 96;\n      non-return of, 71;\n      afternoon, chapter on, 165-176;\n      children's, 580-581;\n      engaged couples, 306-307;\n      opera, 35;\n      theater, 38, 43.\n      See also: House party.\n\n    Passing of colors, removal of hat at, 23.\n\n    Payment, etiquette of, 31.\n     See also: Debts.\n\n    Peas, how to eat, 573.\n\n    Personal letters, 455.\n\n    Persons of rank. See: Rank, persons of.\n\n    Pew cards, 102-103, 356.\n\n    Photographs of engaged couples in newspapers, 304.\n\n    Picnics, 34, 124, 128.\n\n    Pits, management of, at table, 584.\n\n    Place cards, 128, 210.\n\n    Plates, 200, 202-204, 242.\n\n    Politeness to servants, 153-154.\n\n    Political clubs, 517.\n\n    Politics, etiquette of, 530-539.\n\n    Position in the community, 410;\n      chapter on, 65-72.\n\n    Precedence, 40, 204-205, 214-215, 360-361.\n\n    Presentation at court, 609-610.\n\n    \"Present,\" when used in introductions, 4.\n\n    President of the United States,\n      close of letter to, 456, 487, 490;\n      as a guest, 214, 430;\n      how to address, 486;\n      introduction of and to, 4, 5, 487.\n\n    Priest, 488-489.\n\n    Private affairs, conversation about, 592.\n\n    Private car, guests on, 439.\n\n    Private secretary, 139.\n\n    Pronunciation, 62-64.\n\n    Public places, 96, 307,\n      chapter on, 28-34.\n\n    Punctuality, 46, 219-220.\n\n    Pusher, nursery, 571.573.\n\n\n    Rabbi, 488-489.\n\n    Rank, persons of,\n      how to announce as guests, 214-215;\n      how to address, 486, 488;\n      how to introduce, 487, 489;\n      close of letter to, 487-489.\n\n    Reading at table, 591.\n\n    Ready-to-wear clothes, 557, 562.\n\n    Receptions, 10, 119, 165, 168.\n\n    Recommendation, letters of, 479-481.\n\n    Referring to husband or wife in conversation, 54.\n\n    Regard for others, rules of, 34.\n\n    Registering at a hotel, 346, 596-597.\n\n    Rehearsal of a wedding, 338-342.\n\n    Restaurants,\n      clothes in, 556, 569;\n      dinner in before the theater, 38;\n      engaged couples in, 310;\n      headdress in, 546;\n      payment in, 32;\n      rising in to greet a lady, 23;\n      young girl in, 293.\n\n    Riding clothes, 550-552.\n\n    Rings, 544, 567;\n      engagement, 302-303, 311;\n      wedding, 343, 346, 359.\n\n    Rising,\n      to a lady, 22-23;\n      to relatives, 587;\n      from table, 577.\n\n    Royalty,\n      how to address, 610;\n      letters to, 490;\n      presentation to, 4, 609-610.\n\n\n    Salutations, 461;\n      chapter on, 22-27.\n\n    Seating,\n      at an afternoon tea, 168, 170;\n      at a ball supper, 256;\n      in drawing-room, 94-95;\n      at a formal dinner, 162, 178-179, 196, 210-212;\n      at a funeral in church, 409;\n      at an informal dinner, 229;\n      in an opera box, 35-36;\n      at a wedding in church, 354-357;\n      in a steamer dining-salon, 599-600;\n      at the theater, 40-41;\n      in vehicles, 30-31;\n      of children at table, 575.\n\n    Second marriage, 107-108, 375-376.\n\n    Secretary, 138-140, 178.\n\n    Self-introduction, 12, 602.\n\n    Senator, 5, 214, 486-487.\n\n    Servants, 135-138, 141-164;\n      attitude to, 438-439, 510;\n      at formal dinner, 184;\n      in country house, 420-421, 425-427.\n\n    Service,\n      in country house guest room, 425-427;\n      in the well-appointed house, 135-164;\n      dinner, 200-209, 236-237.\n\n    Serving table, 206-207.\n\n    Serving tea, 168-171, 173-174.\n\n    Setting the table, 194-200, 591.\n\n    Shaking hands, 20-21;\n      at an afternoon tea, 167;\n      at a formal dinner, 215;\n      on a visit, 93;\n      at a wedding, 362-363;\n      when introduced, 7-8, 9, 12.\n\n    Shirt, 143, 334, 568.\n\n    Shirt studs, 144, 152, 567.\n\n    Shirt waist, 151, 549, 556.\n\n    Shoes, 333, 549, 555, 558, 564, 566, 568.\n\n    Shops, etiquette in, 33.\n\n    Sickness. See: Invalids.\n\n    Signature of a letter, 458-459.\n\n    Silk hat, 564, 566.\n\n    Silver, 198-199.\n\n    Sitting up with the deceased, 393.\n\n    Sitting down at the table, 577.\n\n    Skirt, 151, 548, 549, 552, 556, 558.\n\n    Slang, 62.\n\n    Sleeping arrangements in country house, 413.\n\n    Slippers, 549, 555.\n\n    Smart society, 2.\n\n    Smoking, 22, 28, 47, 209, 223-224, 530, 594.\n\n    Social letters, 455-456, 461-463.\n\n    Social position. See: Position in the community.\n\n    Society, best,\n      chapter on, 1-3;\n      definition of, 3;\n      smart, 2.\n\n    Speech, 64.\n\n    Speaking to a lady, 22-23.\n\n    Spoon, 197;\n      Use of, 571, 573.\n\n    Sports clothes, 548.\n\n    Sports clubs, 517.\n\n    Stag dinner, 230.\n\n    Stand-up luncheons, 248, 249.\n\n    Steamer etiquette, 598-603.\n\n    Stores, etiquette in, 27, 33.\n\n    Story telling, 50.\n\n    Strangers,\n      cards left with, 83;\n      invitations for, 117, 254;\n      social position of, 67-70;\n      visits, 70-71, 83, 90;\n      at afternoon tea, 170.\n\n    Street, chapter on the, 28-34.\n\n    Street car etiquette, 23-24.\n\n    Street clothes, 548.\n\n    Subscription dances, 272-275.\n\n    Summer dress, 549, 556.\n\n    Sunburn, dress for women who mind, 549-550.\n\n    Superscription in letters, 459, 460.\n\n    Supper, 249;\n      at a ball, 255-257;\n      at a cabaret, 293;\n      after theater, 45.\n\n\n    Table,\n      dinner, 191, 591;\n      luncheon, 240-242;\n      supper, 249;\n      tea, 167-174.\n\n    Table\n      furnishings, 184, 591;\n      hostess, 169-170;\n      manners, 220-224, 571-586;\n      setting, 180-181, 194-200, 591.\n\n    Tail Coat, 35.\n\n    Taking leave. See: Leave taking.\n\n    Tea gown, 547.\n\n    Teas, chapter on, 165-176;\n      clothes for, 165, 547, 556;\n      invitations to, 119, 124;\n      bachelor's, 292;\n      children's, 579-580.\n\n\n    Telephone, invitation by, 128-130, 238-239, 380.\n\n    Tennis, 128.\n\n    Thanks, cards of, 474;\n      letters of, 463, 475.\n\n    Theater, 31, 38-46, 310, 547, 569, 611-612.\n\n    Third person in correspondence, 478-479.\n\n    Tickets for theater, opera, etc., 39-40, 43.\n\n    Tie, gentleman's, 35, 143-144, 246, 333-334, 363, 565-566.\n\n    Tips, in a hotel, 597;\n      to servants, 426-427;\n      on steamboats, 602-603.\n\n    Titled foreigners, 215, 490, 607-608.\n\n    Titles, 5, 486-489;\n      on visiting cards, 76-78.\n\n    Topics of conversation, 51, 55-56.\n\n    Train card, 105.\n\n    Train of a dress, 547.\n\n    Trains, railway, 31, 593-596, 615.\n\n    Traveling, chapter on, 593-616.\n     See also specific subjects, e.g.: Young girl, traveling of.\n\n    Traveling clothes, 351, 559.\n\n    Trousers, 143, 246, 332, 334, 564-565, 567, 569.\n\n    Trousseau, 323-327, 332-333.\n\n    Tuxedo, 42, 564-565, 569, 603.\n\n\n    Uniforms of servants, 148-150.\n\n    Ushers, at a ball, 265;\n      at a wedding, 331, 333-335, 337, 339-340, 342, 354-356, 368, 569.\n\n    Valet, 143, 152, 425-426, 441-442, 608.\n\n    Vegetables, how to eat, 575.\n\n    Vehicles, 30-31;\n      at a formal dinner, 162-163, 212;\n      at a funeral, 395-396;\n      at the opera, 37;\n      at the theater, 39;\n      at a wedding, 353-361.\n\n    Veil, 246, 549;\n      bridal, 350-351;\n      mourning, 399-401.\n\n    Vice-President of the United States,\n      close of letter to, 487, 490;\n      how to address, 486;\n      how to announce as a guest, 214;\n      how to introduce, 487.\n\n\n    Visits, 36, 70-71, 302-303, 310;\n      chapter on, 73-97.\n     See also specific subjects,\n      e.g.: Engaged couples, visits of.\n\n    Visiting cards. See: Cards.\n\n    Vulgar woman, the, 544.345.\n\n\n    Waistcoat, 35, 143, 246, 333, 563, 565-566.\n\n    Walking, across a ballroom, 261-262;\n      down the aisle of a theater, 40;\n      with a lady, 28.\n\n    Watch chain, 567.\n\n    Wealth, display of, 506.\n\n    Wedding anniversaries, 110, 378-379;\n      announcements, 106-107;\n      breakfast, 364-368;\n      ceremony, 357-358;\n      day, chapter on, 345-379;\n      dress, 350-351;\n      expenses, 317, 329, 342-344, 376-378;\n      list, 313-314,\n      pictures, 352;\n      preparations, 312-344; 347-352;\n      presents, 79, 319-323, 464-467;\n      trip, 342-343, 345-346.\n\n    Weddings, 19, 20;\n      clothes for, 328-330, 332-334, 556, 569-570;\n      guest rooms at, 413;\n      invitations to, 98-109, 111; 312-314.\n     See also: Bride; Bridegroom; and other specific subjects.\n\n    White blossoms at second marriage, 375.\n\n    Widow, 77, 107, 375, 402.\n\n    Wife. See: Husband and wife.\n\n    Woman's clubs, 514, 517-318.\n\n    Words and phrases, correct usage of, 58-62.\n\n    Writing paper, 449-453.\n\n    Written invitations, 120.121, 124.127.\n\n\n    Yacht, guests on, 439.\n\n    Young couples, 71, 471.\n\n    Young girl, 288-298;\n      guest room for, 413;\n      letters of, 502-503;\n      traveling of, 595-596, 612-613.\n\n    Young person, introduction of to older, 4;\n      greetings of to older, 21.","title":"Etiquette","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":205198}