MARION HARLAND’S COMPLETE ETIQUETTE

CONTENTS

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CHAPTER I
SENDING AND RECEIVING INVITATIONS

THE sending and receiving of invitations underlies social obligations. It therefore behooves both senders and recipients to learn the proper form in which these evidences of hospitality should be despatched and received.

In the majority of cases an invitation demands an answer. If one is in doubt, it is well to err on the side of acknowledging an invitation, rather than on that of ignoring it altogether.

We will consider first such invitations as demand no acceptance but which call for regrets if one can not accept. Such are cards to “At Home” days, to teas and to large receptions. Unless any one of these bears on its face the letters “R. s. v. p.” (Répondez, s’il vous plaît—Answer if you please) no acceptance is required. If one can not attend the function, one should send one’s card so that one’s friend will receive it on the day of her affair.

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The cards for an “At Home” are issued about ten days before the function. They bear the hostess’ name alone, unless her husband is to receive with her, in which case the card may bear the two names, as “Mr. and Mrs. James Smith.” The average American man does not, however, figure at his wife’s “At Homes” when these are held in the afternoon. The exigencies of counting-room and office hold him in thrall too often for him to be depended on for such an occasion.

A plain, heavy cream card, simply engraved, is now used for most formal invitations in preference to the engraved notes that were the rule ten years ago.

The card bears in the lower right-hand corner the address of the entertainer; in the lower left-hand corner the date and the hours of the affair,—as “Wednesday, October the nineteenth,” and under this “From four until seven o’clock.”

If the tea be given in honor of a friend, or to introduce a stranger, the card of this person is enclosed with that of the hostess, if the affair be rather informal. If, however, it be a formal reception it is well to have engraved upon the card of the hostess, directly under her own name, “To meet Miss Smith.”

If a woman wishes to be at home for a guest[3] unexpectedly arrived, and there is not time for the engraving of cards, or if she prefers to be informal, she may simply use her visiting-card, writing the name of her guest beneath her own, and adding the date on which she will receive, and the hours, in the lower left-hand corner. It is understood, of course, that abbreviations—with the exception of “P. p. c.” and “R. s. v. p.”—are never to be used on invitations and social notes.

The recipient, if sending cards instead of attending, encloses a card for the guest or friend whom she has been invited to meet.

The cards for an evening reception may be issued in the same style. If not, they are in the form of a regular invitation, and in the third person, as:

“Mr. and Mrs. James Smith
Request the pleasure of Mr. and Mrs.
Brown’s company
On Wednesday evening, October the nineteenth,
From eight to eleven o’clock.
2 West Clark Street.”

If this formal invitation bears “R. s. v. p.” in one corner, it should be accepted in the same person in which it is written, thus:

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The reply to an invitation, whether formal or informal, should, to guard against misunderstanding, always explicitly repeat the date and the hour.

It is hardly to be supposed that any person who reads this book will be guilty of the outrageous solecism of signing his or her name to an invitation written in the third person. But such things have been done!

The letters “R. s. v. p.” are often written or engraved entirely in capitals. This is incorrect. Some people prefer to dispense with them altogether and to express themselves in the simpler fashion, “The favor of an answer is requested.” It will be noticed that figures are avoided. The day of the week, and such words as “street” and “avenue” must appear in full. Some people even write out the year in words, but this looks heavy. Never use “City” or “Town” on an envelope in place of the name of the city.

To announce an “At Home” through the newspapers is to be avoided. In case of the sudden descent of a friend who will remain for two or three days only it may be done. In that case one must[5] add that there are no invitations, otherwise one’s friends may not understand.

Invitations to dances are often issued in the same form as those to teas, with “Dancing” written or engraved in the corner of the card. As with teas, so with evening receptions, a declinature must be sent in the shape of a card delivered on the day of the function. The custom that some persons follow of writing “Regrets” on such a card is not good form.

An invitation to a card-party, no matter how informal, always demands an answer, as the entertainer wishes to know how many tables to provide, and the number of players she can count on.

Cards to church weddings demand no answer unless the wedding be a small one and the invitations are written by the bride or one of the relatives, in which case the acceptance or regret must be written at once, and thanks expressed for the honor. A “crush” church wedding is the one function that demands no reply of any kind. If one can go, well and good. If one does not go one will not be missed from the crowd that will throng the edifice. An invitation to a home wedding or a breakfast demands an answer and thanks for the honor.

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While on the subject of invitations to large or formal affairs, it may be well to touch on a point concerning which many correspondents write letters of agonized inquiry,—the addressing of envelopes to the different members of a family. The question, “May one invitation be sent to an entire family, consisting of parents, sons and daughters?” is asked again and again. To each of these an emphatic “No!” is the answer. If any person is to be honored by an invitation to a function, he should be honored by an invitation sent in the proper way. One card should be sent to “Mr. and Mrs. Blank”; another to the “Misses Blank,” still another to each son of the family. One can foresee the day when each unmarried daughter will expect her own card, so rapidly is feminine individuality developing. Each invitation is enclosed in a separate envelope, but, if desired, all these envelopes may be enclosed in a larger outer one addressed to the head of the house.

The most important invitation,—one demanding an immediate answer,—is that to a dinner or luncheon, be this formal or informal. For stately formal dinners, engraved invitations in the third person are sent. But it is quite as good form, and in appearance much more hospitable and complimentary, for the hostess herself to write personal notes[7] of invitation to each guest. These may be in the simplest language, as:

An invitation to a married woman should always include herself and her husband, but it is addressed to her because it is the woman who is supposed to have charge of the social calendar of the family. This note may read:

A note of invitation to a single man is written in the same way. If the dinner be given to any particular guest or guests, this fact should be mentioned[8] in the invitation. As, for instance, “Will you dine with us to meet Mr. and Mrs. Barrows,” and so forth.

Single men who are warmly appreciative of dinner invitations and who foresee no opportunity in the near future to return the hospitality offered to them, frequently send a box of flowers to their hostess on the day of her entertainment.

As soon as practicable after the receipt of a dinner invitation, the recipient should write a cordial note. If accepting she should express thanks and the pleasure she (or her husband and she) will take in being present at the time mentioned. As a rule the decision to accept or decline should be as absolute as it is immediate. Only the greatest intimacy and extraordinary circumstances warrant the request that an invitation be held open even for a day. The hostess must make her arrangements and she can not do so until she has heard definitely from all those she has asked.

If a declinature is necessary, let it be in the form of a recognition of the honor conveyed in the invitation, and genuine regret at the impossibility of accepting it. This may be worded somewhat in the following way:

No matter how informal a dinner is to be, if the invitation is once accepted, nothing must be allowed to interfere with one’s attendance unless one is so ill that one’s physician absolutely forbids one leaving the house.

Some wit said that a man’s only excuse for non-attendance at such a function is his death, in which case he should send his obituary notice as an explanation. Certain it is that nothing short of one’s own severe illness or the dangerous illness of a member of the family should interfere with one’s attendance at a dinner. Should such a contingency arise, a telegram or telephone message should be sent immediately that the hostess may try to engage another guest to take the place of the one who is unavoidably prevented from being present.

When it becomes necessary to ask a guest to fill such a vacancy, the hostess will do best to explain the situation frankly, while the guest on his part need feel no slight at the lateness of his invitation. A clever woman always has several persons on[10] whom she can rely for such emergencies and whose good nature she does not fail to reward.

All the rules that apply to the sending and receiving of invitations to a dinner prevail with regard to a luncheon. It is next in importance as a function, and the acceptance or declinature of a letter requesting that one should attend it must be promptly despatched.

In planning any social affair the hostess should think twice about asking together people who have for a long time lived in the same neighborhood or who are old residents of the city in any part but who are not apparently in the habit of seeing one another. Sometimes it is safer to ask one’s prospective guests outright if it will be agreeable for them to meet.

Before closing this chapter we should like to remind the possible guest that an invitation is intended as an honor. The function to which one is asked may be all that is most boring, and the flesh and spirit may shrink from attending it. But if one declines what is meant as a compliment, let one do so in a manner that shows one appreciates the honor intended. To decline as if the person extending the invitation were a bit presumptuous in giving it, or to accept in a condescending manner, is a lapse that shows a common strain under a recently-acquired polish. A thoroughbred accepts[11] and declines all invitations as though he were honored by the attention. In doing so he shows himself worthy to receive any compliment that may under any circumstances be extended to him. Would that more of the strugglers up Society’s ladders would appreciate this truth!

If a woman wishes to give any other special form of entertainment than a dance, she writes the suitable word, “Music,” “Bridge,” “Garden-party,” etc., in place of the word “Dancing.”

For a dinner dance one sends a note or an engraved card with “Dancing at ten” or “Cotillion at eleven” in the corner, to the comparatively small number asked to dine. The guests asked for the dance receive only an “At Home” card, with the announcement “Dancing at ten” in the corner.

The tea-dance or thé-dansant has recently been revived. This calls for an “At Home” card and the word “Dancing” in the corner. It is merely an ordinary afternoon tea at which space and music are provided for the young people to whirl about.

Some people who entertain formally a great deal keep on hand a supply of large engraved cards with a space left blank in which the name of the guest is written. This is certainly a time-saving custom, but the appearance of such a card is less elegant than one wholly engraved, while on the other hand[12] it lacks the real cordiality of the written note. Aiming at a combined effect, it hardly achieves either of the things desired.

A minor but amusing blunder sometimes made by thoughtless persons consists in inviting guests “for” dinner. The ducks and salad, ices and cakes are for dinner; the guests should be asked to it.

A woman may take an out-of-town visitor to any large affair without obtaining permission beforehand, but she will of course, in speaking to her hostess, express appreciation of the pleasant opportunity thus afforded to her guest.

After a death has taken place, one will not for a month or six weeks intrude on the seclusion of the family by sending any social invitations. After that time, however, they should be sent as usual. It is the personal privilege of the bereaved to determine how soon and to what extent they will resume their relations with society. If one is in mourning one can not of course with propriety become a member of any gay company, but nowadays mourning is not always assumed even by the most grievously stricken. If such persons find their burden more easily borne by the resumption, as far as may be, of their normal activities, it is the part of kindness to aid them in making this resumption as easy and natural as possible.

[13]

It is now considered correct to send all invitations by mail, though in some southern places the more elegant—if difficult—method of delivering them by the hand of a servant is still cherished. Many informal invitations are now extended by telephone.

Dinner and wedding invitations and cards for evening receptions are issued in the names of both host and hostess. For a ball or a garden-party the name of the hostess may appear alone, though this is not usual. A young girl should never announce any but the smallest and most informal parties in her own name. Yet many young girls do so, ignoring their mothers and contributing unwittingly to our national reputation for bad manners.

A bishop and his wife, if they are issuing cards to a large reception, often do it in this way: “The Bishop of Indiana and Mrs. Hereford request the honor,” etc.

An invitation should never begin “You are cordially invited,” etc. It should always be issued in the name of some person or persons. “The Men’s Club invites you” or “The Diocesan Society requests the honor of” is good form.

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CHAPTER II
CARDS AND CALLS

THE styles of calling-cards change from year to year, even from season to season, so that it is impossible to make hard-and-fast rules as to the size and thickness of the bits of pasteboard, or the script with which they are engraved. Any good stationer can give one the desired information on these points.

In choosing a card plate it is well to select a style of script so simple yet elegant that it will not be outré several seasons hence, unless one’s purse will allow one to revise one’s plate with each change of fashion. It should not be necessary to remark that a printed card is an atrocity. Even a man’s business-card should be engraved, not printed.

It is no longer considered proper for one card to bear the husband’s and wife’s names together, as was a few years ago the mode, thus,—“Mr. and Mrs. Charles Sprague.” Still, some persons have a few cards thus marked and use them in sending[15] gifts from husband and wife. As a rule, however, the husband’s card is enclosed in an envelope with that of his wife in sending gifts, regrets and the like.

The card of a matron bears her husband’s full name unless she is a divorcée, thus,—“Mrs. George Williams Brown.” Even widows retain this style of address. In the lower right-hand corner is the address, and in the lower left-hand corner one’s “at home” days are named, as “Tuesdays until Lent,” or “Wednesdays in February and March,” or “Thursdays until May.”

Nicknames and abbreviations are for intimate use only and should never appear on cards or invitations. A girl should distinguish between “Kitty” and “Katharine,” “Sarah” and “Sallie.” However, in the south many girls are christened “Sallie,” and this is accepted as her full and proper name accordingly.

A young woman’s cards bear her name, “Miss Blank,” if she be the oldest or only daughter in the family. The address on her cards is in the lower left-hand corner. If she has an older sister the card reads “Miss Mary Hilton Blank.”

A man’s card is much smaller than that of a woman and often has no address on it, unless it be[16] a business-card, which must never be used for social purposes. The “Mr.” is put before the signature as, “Mr. James John Smith.” By the time a boy is eighteen he is considered old enough to have his cards marked with the prefix “Mr.” Until that time, he is, on the rare occasions when he is formally addressed, “Master.”

A clergyman’s card is correctly engraved thus: “The Reverend James Vernon Smith.” A bishop is entitled to the greater distinction, “The Right Reverend.” A physician or a judge may use his title or not as he prefers. Army and navy officers invariably employ theirs except when the rank is as low as that of a lieutenant, when the full name, prefixed by “Mr.” is used, and below it, “Lieutenant of Third Cavalry, United States Army.”

A woman with a daughter-in-law moving in society in the same city as herself may with propriety have her card engraved simply “Mrs. Brown.” Or she may follow the graceful foreign custom and be known as “Madame Brown,” which gives a pretty touch of dignity and makes it easy for callers to designate which of the two ladies they wish to see if both are living in the same house.

A married woman never takes her husband’s title, no matter what that may be. She is never “Mrs. Judge ——” or “Mrs. Colonel ——.” Even the[17] president’s wife is simply “Mrs. Cleveland” or “Mrs. Harrison.”

In direct address, the president of the United States is “Mr. President.” The vice-president is “Mr. ——.” Members of the cabinet are “Secretary A.” or “Secretary B.,” when introduced, and are addressed as “Mr. Secretary.” Senators are always addressed by their titles, but representatives are “Mr.” Except in naval and military circles titles expire with office. The man who was governor or mayor last year should not be introduced as “Ex-governor ——,” “Ex-mayor ——.”

Perhaps there is no social obligation that is more neglected and ignored than that of calling at proper times and regular intervals. In the rush and hurry of American life, it is well-nigh impossible for the busy woman to perform her duty in this line unless she have a certain degree of system about it. To this end she should keep a regular calling-list or book, and pay strict heed to the debit and credit columns. It will require much management and thought to arrange her visits so that they will always fall on the “At Home” days of her acquaintances. When a woman has an “At Home” day it is an unwarrantable liberty for any one to call at any other time unless it be on business, or by special invitation, or permission. As many women[18] have the same day at home one must limit the length of a call to fifteen or twenty minutes upon a casual acquaintance, never making it longer than half an hour even at the house of a friend.

One should learn to take one’s departure on a remark of one’s own, not hurrying away the moment one’s friend ceases to talk. On the other hand lingering good-bys in ordinary intercourse are a mistake and suggest that one lacks the finesse necessary to manage a polite withdrawal. An amusing story was told in a recent magazine—and vouched for as true—in which two young southern lads making their first formal call, were driven to stay all night because they could not get away—they were so timid.

Some persons seem to feel that there is a certain amount of pomp and circumstance about calling on an “At Home” day, and the novice in society asks timidly what she is to do at such a time. She is to do simply what she would do on any other day when she is sure of finding her hostess in and disengaged. The caller hands her card to the servant opening the door; then enters the parlor, greets her hostess, who will probably introduce her to any other guests who happen to be present, unless there be a large number of these, in which case she will[19] probably be introduced to a few in her immediate vicinity. The caller will chat for a few minutes, take a cup of tea, coffee or chocolate offered her, with a biscuit, sandwich or piece of cake, or decline all refreshment if she prefers. At the end of fifteen or twenty minutes, she will rise, say “Good afternoon” to her hostess, murmur a “Good afternoon” to the company in general and take her departure. If her card has not been taken by the servant who opened the door for her, the caller may lay it on the hall table as she goes out.

When a woman is at home one day a week for several months, she is expected to make very little preparation in the way of refreshment for her chance guests. The tea tray is ready on the tea-table at one side of the room, and upon it are cups and saucers, teapot, canister and hot-water kettle. A plate of thin bread and butter, or sandwiches, or biscuits, and another of sweet wafers or fancy cakes, stand on this table. Sugar and cream and sliced lemon complete the outfit. The kettle is kept boiling that fresh tea may be made when required, and a servant enters when needed to take out the used cups. If there are many callers, the services of this maid may be required to assist in passing cups, and sugar and cream. Otherwise the hostess may attend to such matters herself, chatting[20] pleasantly as she does so. It is not incumbent on a caller to take anything to eat or drink unless she wishes to do this. When one attends half-a-dozen such “At Homes” in an afternoon one would have to carry a bag like that worn by Jack the Giant-Killer of fairy lore, if one were to accept refreshments at each house. The hostess should, therefore, never insist that a guest eat and drink if she has declined to do so.

In calling on a married woman a matron leaves one of her own cards and two of her husband’s. Her card is for the hostess, one of her husband’s is for the hostess and the other for the man of the house. If there be several ladies in the family, as for instance, a mother and two daughters, the caller leaves one of her own and one of her husband’s cards for each woman, and an extra card from her husband for each man of the household.

This is the general rule, but it must have some exceptions. For instance, in a household where there are five or six women it is ridiculous to leave an entire pack of visiting-cards. In this case a woman leaves her card for “the ladies,” and leaves it with her husband’s, also for “the ladies.” One of his cards is also left for the man of the family. Or if there be several men it may be left simply for “the gentlemen.”

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If one knows that there is a guest staying at a house at which one calls, one must send in one’s card for this guest. Or, if one have a friend staying in the same town with one, and one calls on her, it is a breach of good breeding not to inquire for the friend’s hostess and leave a card for her whether she appear or not.

When an engagement is made known the members of the man’s family should immediately call on his fiancée and her family, and a formal dinner should be given for them within two weeks.

Custom clings to the black-edged card for those in mourning. It has its uses and surely its abuses. For those in deep mourning it is a convenience to send in the form of regrets, as the black edge gives sufficient reason in itself for the non-acceptance of invitations. It may also be sent with gifts to friends. If one uses it as a calling-card the border should be very narrow. If one is in such deep mourning that one’s card must appear with a half-inch of black around it, one is certainly in too deep mourning to pay calls. Until the black edge can be reduced to the less ostentatious eighth-of-an-inch width, the owner would do well to shun society.

Nor should a black-edged card accompany an invitation[22] to a social function. Several seasons ago a matron introduced to society in a large city a niece who had, eighteen months before, lost a brother. With the hostess’ invitations to the reception was enclosed the card of the young guest, and this card had a black border an eighth of an inch wide. The recipients of the invitations were to be pardoned if they wondered a bit at the incongruity of a person in mourning receiving at a large party. Under the circumstances she should have declined to have the social function given in her honor, or should have laid aside her insignia of dolor.

If, then, one has reached the point where one is ready to reenter society, let one give up the mourning-cards and again use plain white bits of pasteboard.

In calling at a house after a bereavement, it is well, except when the afflicted one is an intimate friend, to leave the card with a message of sympathy at the door. One may, if one wishes, leave flowers with the card. A fortnight after the funeral one may call and ask to see the ladies of the family, adding that if they do not feel like seeing callers they will please not think of coming down. Under such circumstances only a supersensitive person will be hurt by receiving the message that the[23] ladies beg to be excused, and that they are grateful for the kind thought that prompted the call.

The rule that we have just given applies to the household in which there is serious illness. A call may consist of an inquiry at the door, and leaving a card. This may be accompanied by some such message as, “Please express my sincere hope that Mrs. Smith will soon be better, and assure Mr. Smith that if I can be of any service to him, or Mrs. Smith, I shall be grateful if he will let me know.”

One should always return a first call within three weeks after it has been made. After a dinner, luncheon or card-party, a call must be made within a fortnight. An afternoon tea requires no “party call.” After a large reception one may call within the month. After a wedding reception one must call within a fortnight on the mother of the bride, and on the bride on her “At Home” day as soon as possible after her return from the wedding trip. If one is in doubt as to the propriety of calling after an invitation, it is better to err on the side of making the call. One’s courteous intention will surely be appreciated while not to call may seem an unpardonable omission.

In the case of an invitation extended without[24] a first call having been made, women sometimes express doubt as to the course they should pursue. In the first place they will do well to realize that some of the people who entertain most delightfully are extremely busy people to whom the rigid routine of formal etiquette would be an intolerable burden. A clever woman is known by nothing more certainly than by the unerring instinct with which she relaxes her demands in such instances. If the woman who wishes to entertain encloses her own card this may be accepted as a substitute for the usual first call. The social value of one dinner invitation transcends many calls. Even if the visiting-card is not enclosed the recipient of the invitation will—if she be a sensible woman—accept if she really wishes to do so. At this point, however, social usage should begin to assert itself and the invited one should not fail to make the customary call of appreciation after the “party.” If one does not wish to make the acquaintance offered a formal note of declination will serve to discourage further intrusion.

A rather surprising question sometimes asked is whether one should call after a dinner or dance invitation that has been declined. Certainly, the call should be made. One has been honored by one’s friends and the fact that one was prevented by circumstances from actually enjoying their hospitality[25] makes no difference whatever with one’s responsibility for expressing appreciation.

A card with a message written on it fills many convenient social needs but it should never be used to take the place of a formal note. So employed it suggests haste and a degree of indifference that are contrary to the best breeding. The corners of cards are no longer turned down for any purpose.

If one, on calling, is told by the servant opening the door that “Mrs. Brown is not at home,” this does not mean literally that Mrs. Brown is of necessity out of the house, neither does it mean that the servant has been instructed to tell an untruth. “Not at home” is an accepted abbreviation for “Not at home to visitors.” There are those to whom the phrase will, however, always have a disagreeable ring, and if Mrs. Brown have more tact and originality than the conventions demand she will probably direct her maid to say instead, “Mrs. Brown is not receiving to-day. She receives on Mondays.”

Who calls first? The custom of residents calling on the newcomer is so firmly established in almost all communities that one may wonder at the question being asked. Yet in Washington—that is to say, in official Washington, this custom is reversed,[26] and it is the newcomer who calls at the White House, on the vice-president, members of the cabinet, etc. In the case of the highest officials a return call is not expected but the courtesy is recognized by an invitation to some general reception.

The hours for calling vary according to the community one is in—though no afternoon call should be made before three o’clock. In small towns and villages where supper is eaten at six o’clock, one should not prolong a call after five-thirty. Evening calls in most American cities are usually made at eight o’clock or soon after, though in large eastern places where dinner is not served until seven, seven-thirty or eight, the nine o’clock call is not unusual.

Calls on the sick should be made with the greatest discretion. One should ascertain in the first place whether or not one’s friend will really be equal to seeing one, and then stay for a few moments only. Sick-bed visits especially should not be allowed to become visitations. Many a person with a chance for recovery has literally been talked into his grave by well-meaning callers. Intelligent nurses will quietly ask such people to remain away.

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CHAPTER III
LETTER-WRITING

THE writing of letters, of the good old-fashioned kind, is rapidly becoming a thing of the past. People used to write epistles. Now they write notes. Before the days of the stenographer, the typewriter, the telegraph and telephone, when people made their own clothes by hand, wove their own sheets and had no time-saving machines, they found leisure to write epistles to their friends. Some of us are so fortunate as to have stowed away in an old trunk a bundle of these productions. The ink is pale and the paper yellowed, but the matter is still interesting. All the news of the family, the neighborhood gossip, the latest sayings and doings of the children and of callers, an account of the books read, of the minister’s last sermon and of the arrival of the newest of many olive branches, filled pages. What must these same pages have meant to the exile from home! And how much there was in such letters to answer!

Still, even in this day and generation, there are[28] a few people who have so far held to the good old traditions that they write genuine letters. And—wonder of wonders!—they answer questions asked them in letters written by their correspondents. Only those who have written questions to which they desired prompt answers, appreciate how maddening it is to receive a letter that tells you everything except the answers to your queries. And this ignoring of the epistle one is supposed to be answering is a feature of the up-to-date letter-writer. There is, even in friendly correspondence, a right and a wrong way of doing a thing.

The wrong, and well-nigh universal, way of treating a letter is as follows: It is read as rapidly as possible, pigeonholed and forgot. Weeks hence, in clearing out the desk it is found, the handwriting recognized, and it is laid aside to be answered later. When that “later” comes depends on the leisure of the owner. At last a so-called answer is hastily written without a second reading of the letter to which one is replying. Such a reply begins with an apology for a long and unavoidable silence, an account of how cruelly busy one is nowadays, a passing mention of the number of duties one has to perform, a wish that the two correspondents may meet in the near future and a rushing final sentence of affection followed by the signature. Such is the modern letter.

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If a correspondent is worth having, she is worth treating fairly. Let her letter be read carefully, and laid aside until such time as one can have a half-hour of uninterrupted writing. Then, let the letter one would answer be read, and the questions it contains be answered in order, and first of all. This is common courtesy. After which one may write as much as time and inclination permit. If one has not the time to conduct one’s correspondence in this way, let one have fewer correspondents. It is more fair to them and to one’s self.

Colored letter-paper is in bad form unless the color be a pale gray or a light blue. From time to time, stationers have put upon the market paper outré in design and coloring, and the persons who have used it were just what might be expected. It reminds one of what Richard Grant White said of the words “gents” and “pants”—he noticed “that the one generally wore the other.” So, paper that is such bad form as this is usually used by persons who are “bad form.” All good-looking notes have a considerable margin at the left hand; punctilious people insist on a right-hand margin also.

Plain white or cream paper of good quality is always in fashion. For social correspondence this paper must be so cut that it is folded but once[30] to be slipped into an envelope. At the top of the page in the middle may be the address, as “123 West Barrows Street,” and the name of the city. Just now, this is the only marking that is used on the sheet, although some persons have the initials or monogram, or crest, in place of the address. It is no longer fashionable to have the crest or monogram and the address also. The envelope is marked or not, as one chooses. The use of sealing-wax gives a touch of distinction for which a few persons still take time. Only white or delicately colored wax is acceptable, unless at holiday time, when the festive touch given by scarlet is in season.

Letter-heads, such as are used for business correspondence, should never be used for social purposes. Even the business man may keep in his office desk a quire or two of plain paper upon which to write society notes and replies to invitations. Nor is it permissible for him to use the typewriter in inditing these. All his business correspondence may be conducted with the aid of the invaluable machine, and he may, if he ask permission to do so, send letters to members of his own family on the typewriter. But all other correspondence should be done with pen and ink.

Unfortunately, mourning stationery is still in[31] vogue. The recipient of a black-edged letter is often conscious of a distinct shock when she first sees the emblem of dolor, and wonders if it contains the notice of a death. For this reason many considerate followers of conventionalities do not use the black-edged stationery, but content themselves with plain white paper marked with the address or monogram in black lettering.

A social or friendly letter is frequently dated at the end, at the left-hand lower corner of the signature. A business communication is dated at the upper right-hand corner.

The expression “My dear Mr. Blank” is more formal than is “Dear Mr. Blank,” and is, therefore, used in society notes. Do not—as some have done—begin “dear” with a capital. Unsophisticated persons sometimes hesitate to use the prefix “dear,”—they may be assured that in this connection it is merely a polite form, with no sentimental flavor whatever. Business letters addressed to a man should begin with the name of the person to whom they are intended on one line, the salutation on the next, as: “Mr. John Smith” on the upper line, and below this, “Dear Sir.” In addressing a firm consisting of more than one person, write the name of the firm, as “Smith, Jones and Company,” then below, “Dear Sirs.” The salutation “Gentlemen”[32] in such a case is old-fashioned but is preferred by some ceremonious persons who also like to put “Esq.” after a man’s name on an envelope in place of putting “Mr.” before it.

It should be unnecessary to remind women not to preface their signatures with the title “Mrs.” or “Miss.” Such a mistake stamps one as a vulgarian or an ignoramus. The name in full may be signed, as: “Mary Bacon Smith.” If the writer be a married woman, and the person to whom she writes does not know whether she be married or single, she should write her husband’s name with the preface “Mrs.” below her signature, or in the lower left-hand corner of the sheet, as (“Mrs. James Hayes Smith”). An unmarried woman will save her correspondent embarrassment by putting “Miss Brown” in parentheses in this corner.

To sign one’s name prefaced by the first letter is no longer considered good form. “J. Henry Wells” should be “John Henry Wells.” If one would use one initial letter instead of the full name, let that letter be the middle initial, as “John H. Wells,” or “J. H. Wells.”

I wish I could impress on all followers of good form that a postal card is a solecism except when[33] used for business purposes. If it is an absolute necessity to send one to a friend or a member of one’s family, as, when stopping for a moment at a railroad station one wishes to send a line home telling of one’s safety at the present stage of the journey, the sentences should be short and to the point, and unprefaced by an affectionate salutation. All love-messages should be omitted, as should the intimate termination that is entirely proper in a sealed letter. “Affectionately” or “Lovingly” are out of place when written upon a postal card. Expressions such as “God bless you!” or “I love you,” or “Love to the dear ones,” are in shockingly bad taste except under cover of an envelope. A good rule to impress on those having a penchant for the prevalent post-card is as follows: “Use for business when brevity and simplicity are the order of the day; never use for friendly correspondence unless the purchase of a sheet of paper, envelope and postage stamp is an impossibility.”

The friendly letter may be as long as time and inclination permit. The business communication should be written in as few and clear sentences as possible. Some one has said that to write a model business letter one should “begin in the middle of it.” In other words, it should be unprefaced by any unnecessary sentences, but should begin immediately[34] on the business in hand, continue and finish with it. For such letters “Very truly yours” is the correct ending, unless, as in the case of a man or firm addressing a letter to a person totally unknown to the writer, and of marked eminence, when the expression “Respectfully yours” may be used.

Many people consider letters of congratulation and condolence the most difficult to write. This is because one feels that a certain kind of form is necessary and that conventional and stilted phrases are proper under the circumstances. This is a mistake, for, going on the almost unfailing principle that what comes from the heart, goes to the heart, the best form to be used toward those in sorrow or joy is a genuine expression of feeling. If you are sorry for a friend, write to her that you are, and that you are thinking of her and longing to help her. If you are happy in her happiness, say so as cordially as words can express it.

It happens now and then that even the quietest person wishes to write to a man of political prominence. Such persons, whether they be diplomats or members of Congress, may properly be addressed as “Honorable Mr. ——.” The president is “The[35] Honorable, the President of the United States.” To use the article before the title is more elegant. Bishops of any church are entitled to the prefix, “The Right Reverend.” In conversation, the rector of a “high” Episcopal church is often affectionately addressed as “Father ——,” but this form of greeting would not be used on an envelope. The dean of a cathedral should be addressed as “The Very Reverend ——.”

Very small paper and envelopes for society notes are less used than formerly, many persons preferring what are called correspondence cards, heavy cream-white single cards on which a few lines may be written and which are slipped into their envelopes without folding.

Letters of introduction should bear on the outside of the envelope, in the lower left-hand corner the words, “Introducing Miss ——,” in order that the two thus brought together may be saved any momentary embarrassment. They should not be sealed. One should be very careful not to give these letters unless one is reasonably warranted in making a demand on the time and courtesy of the person on whom one is making the social draft. To give one’s card by way of introduction makes[36] less of a demand on one’s friend than does a letter. A woman does not present a letter of introduction in person; a man does.

When one avails one’s self of a member of one’s family or a friend as messenger, one should write on the envelope in the lower left-hand corner, “Kindness of Mary” or “Politeness of Miss Briggs.”

We can not close this chapter on letter-writing without a word to the person who writes a letter asking a question on his own business, and fails to enclose a stamp. This is equivalent to asking the recipient on whom one has no claim to give one the time required for writing an answer to one’s query, and a two-cent stamp as well. When the matter on which one writes is essentially one’s own business, and not that of the person to whom one writes and from whom one demands a reply, one should always enclose a stamp, thus making the favor one asks of the least possible trouble to one’s correspondent. Some people enclose a stamped and self-addressed envelope but as the other person’s paper may not fit the envelope, the well-meant courtesy often defeats itself.

In all business and society correspondence a letter should be answered as soon as possible after it is received. One may afford to take a certain[37] amount of liberty with one’s friends, and lay aside a letter for some days before answering it. But the acceptance or declinature of an invitation, and the answer to a business communication, should be sent with as little delay as possible.

[38]

CHAPTER IV
INTRODUCTIONS

THIS matter of introductions is one rather too lightly considered on our free American soil. Unless the social exigencies are such as to make the atmosphere formal and unpleasant if people are unknown to each other, it is taking a liberty to present a man to a woman without first and privately asking her permission. It is a woman’s privilege to decline or to accept masculine acquaintance as she chooses. If she grants permission for the introduction, the person who has asked such permission brings the man in question to her and says: “Miss A., may I have the pleasure of presenting Mr. B. to you?” We have all been witnesses at some time or other of that most unconventional performance where the woman in the case allows herself to be dragged across the floor to the man concerned. We have all, on occasion, heard the proper form so twisted as to make the woman the person presented instead of the man.[39] This is the worst sort of no-form. The social convention prescribes that the man shall take the initiative in requesting the introduction, that he shall seek the lady, that he shall be the person presented.

An American woman in presenting her husband will usually say, “My husband, Mr. Smith.” An English woman would be more formal. She would say simply, “Mr. Smith.” When a man is presented to a woman, if she is seated she need not rise but may merely bow. In case the man is distinguished or elderly or if he be a warm friend of her husband, or her guest, she will rise and shake hands.

Never awkwardly drag a newcomer around to every person in a large circle. Introduce him to several of those nearest and later such further introductions as are desirable will naturally follow. When the group includes a half-dozen only, it is necessary to introduce all round. In this case the ceremony may be gracefully shortened by repeating two or three names together, thus: “Mrs. Brown, Mrs. Smith, may I present Mr. James?”

Never introduce your sister or your daughter, if she be grown, merely as such. The other person will be confused, not knowing whether the one introduced is married or single, and hence in doubt as to what name to use.

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At a reception given to an archbishop of the Roman Catholic church, it is customary for devout Catholics to kiss the ring but Protestants may merely shake hands. A cardinal ranks as a prince of the Roman Catholic church and is addressed as “His Eminence.” Women as well as men are presented to him, not he to them. A woman is also presented to a bishop.

When two women of about equal age and importance are to be introduced merely mention the two names, thus: “Mrs. A., Mrs. B.” The general rule in all introductions is to present the woman to the man, the young man or young woman to the elderly, the unmarried woman to the matron, when of about the same age. One may say “May I present” or with two men of near the same age, “I want you to know.” Never say, “Let me make you acquainted with.” That is provincial.

The American who goes abroad expecting to be presented at court must, of course, acquaint himself with the etiquette of that court. He will receive such advice as he needs from his ambassador but it may be useful for him to know ahead of time some of the things that are required of him, or more precisely of her, for court presentations are much more coveted and sought after by American women than by men. However, it is understood[41] that a man whose wife has been presented is himself eligible to attend the king’s next reception for gentlemen only. The English queen is addressed simply as “Ma’am” by all Americans who have the honor of presentation. King George would be addressed as “Sir.” The Prince of Wales is “Prince” and his wife “Princess.” The phrase “Your Majesty” is reserved for use by the lower English classes. An American, by virtue of his having no rank at all, takes rank with the highest when he is introduced at court. A duke is addressed simply as “Duke,” and a marquis by his title, “Lord ——.” The daughters of dukes, marquises and earls must be given their Christian names, as “Lady Mary Towers.” The sons should be addressed as “Lord John Towers,” “Lord Henry Towers.” An archbishop is properly addressed as “Your Grace” or “My Lord,” but his wife is plain “Mrs. ——.” Members of foreign royal families have the title of “Prince” and “Princess.”

A baron visiting in this country would be presented to the American ladies he meets quite like any other gentleman, and his wife would not take precedence of them unless she happened to be elderly.

When in a friend’s house one should bear in mind that introductions are the natural prerogative of the host and the hostess. One should not,[42] however, allow an awkward situation to develop from a too rigid observance of this rule.

Remember that many professional men do not like to be called “Professor” because of the cheap ways in which this title has in recent years been used. By a little tact in individual instances one can learn which is preferred—“Professor,” or “Mr.,” or “Doctor,” if the person in question be entitled to that distinction.

In making introductions a clever man or woman often adds a word of comment that will help the two meeting to start their acquaintance on a friendly and intelligent basis.

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CHAPTER V
AFTER SIX O’CLOCK

FOR most of us the active business of the day is over at sundown. Mothers of large families, physicians and occasionally other workers are employed over time; but most of us can count on leisure after six o’clock. Much of our happiness depends upon how this leisure is employed. That it should afford recreation of one sort or another is a commonly accepted opinion, though one that is accepted usually without appreciation of the obligations involved. Recreation implies something more than idleness. One can not be amused in any worth-while sense without sitting up and paying attention. Foreigners complain habitually that Americans take their pleasure sadly, that they do not go in for gaiety with spirit. We are much more vital in our attitude toward work than toward play. We know that we must pay for success in labor of any sort, but the debt we owe to amusement is a point not yet so widely grasped. Pleasure is shy of the person who makes only[44] occasional advances to her. She must be courted habitually in order to give a full return. We are all acquainted with the dull unhappy appearance of the sedulous man of business off for a rare holiday. He is out of his element. He knows how to behave himself at work but he is not acquainted with the fundamental principles of having a good time. These can not be learned in a minute. One must have practise in enjoyment in order to carry off the matter easily; and this practise should be a habit of every-day life. Many people who stand shyly off from the delights of the world and wonder why they are deprived of them, fail to realize that diversion of any sort worthy the name, is a thing for which one must make some effort.

It is at home that one should cultivate the graces that make one attractive abroad; and this is only preliminary to saying that planning for the every-day recreation of a household should be as much a matter of course as devising ways and means for the purchase of food and clothing.

The first requisite for bringing about an atmosphere of festivity and good cheer at home is to adopt in some degree the methods that one uses away from home. If one is invited out to dinner, one makes some preparation for it, and so one[45] should do for dinner at home. Externals have much to do with coaxing gaiety to live as a guest in the house. A pretty table and food managed with some regard to esthetic values as well as to the palatable quality, have a happy effect upon the mind and temper of the diners. A few flowers properly distributed assist still further. If all the inmates of a house are in the habit, as they should be, of making some change in their toilet for dinner, this of itself makes a sharp line of demarcation between the work-time and the play-time of the twenty-four hours. The hint of festivity in attire induces a happy and a festive frame of mind, imparts just that touch of difference from the habit of prosaic daylight necessary to send the mind sailing off into pleasant channels.

The care for the dinner-table, for the personal appearance and, generally speaking, for pretty environment implies effort. Lazy people can not hope for these delightful effects of a material kind. Neither can they expect the happiness which comes to those who take some pains at home for the mental entertainment of themselves and their household. There are many people who regard it as deceitful and insincere to forecast what one shall talk about and it is quite true that formally planned talk is a foe to spontaneity and naturalness. But usually the[46] man or woman who entertains by his conversation is the person who, in a general way, has taken some thought about what he shall say. Given the opportunity, conversation, charming in its spontaneity, rises out of the mental habit of noting down for future reference pleasant or odd personal experiences, good stories, the quirks in one’s own mind. One must not intrude these in a place where they do not fit, but it is not in the least a social sin to guide the talk toward your own thought provided you do not thereby push out something better. We are all given tongues and with them a certain conversational responsibility. If each member of the family made it his business and his pleasure during the day to remember the best part of his experience that he might relate it at the dinner-hour some part of that gloom which descends upon so many American families at the evening meal would be dissipated.

If one cultivates the prettier touches of personal appearance for that part of the day after six o’clock, whether at home or abroad, one should also cultivate the pleasanter and more agreeable states of mind. Business should be put behind one. The petty cares of the day should go unmentioned. The ills of body and mind should be, as far as possible, forgot. Those little courtesies and formalities of manner that we admire in the practised man or[47] woman of society are as decorative at home as away and equally creative of a festive atmosphere. In one of the magazines of the last decade there is a homely effective story of a young girl, just home from a house-party and full of its gaiety, to whom the idea occurred that the methods employed by her hostess might make a delightful week in her own large family circle. She took the matter in hand, and invited her mother to be the guest of honor for the seven days. Some entertainment was planned for each evening in the week, sometimes with visitors and sometimes not. The women of the family wore their best frocks frequently during the week. The prettiest china and the best silver were used as freely as if for company. The result of it all was that the family voted visiting at home a signal success.

There are many specific ways of providing amusement for evenings at home. One has space only for the mention of a few of these in a short article on the subject. Games of various kinds are an excellent resource for making the after-dinner time pass pleasantly. They cultivate quickness of decision, sociability, a friendly rivalry. Success in games is partly a matter of chance but much more of attention and skill. Many people sniff at them who are too lazy to make the conquest of their methods.

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Charades, of which English people never grow tired, as a means of diversion, have their ups and downs in the more quickly changing fashions of America. They provide one of the easiest and merriest means of entertainment. They may be of any degree of simplicity or elaboration, and they call forth as much or as little ingenuity as is possessed by the actors in any given case. They are usually popular because almost everybody has latent a little talent for the actor’s art at which he is willing to try his luck. Many people who are afraid to join in formal theatricals find an outlet for this taste in charades; and so informal usually is this kind of entertainment that the spectators enjoy the acting whether well done or otherwise. It is enough to see one’s friends and acquaintances struggling with a part. If well done, one enjoys the success; if not, one applauds the absurdity of the conception.

Reading aloud to a congenial home party has much to be said in its favor, in spite of its present reputation as a stupid means of passing an evening. “The world may be divided into two classes,” runs an old and favorably known joke, “those who like reading aloud and those who do not. Those who like it are those who do the reading; those who dislike it are those who do the listening.” The half-truth[49] in this witticism must not be accepted for more than it is worth. As an occasional means of passing an evening, reading aloud is diverting and stimulating. The habit of spending one’s evenings in that way is not an encouragement to variety and liveliness of mind. One gets into the way of depending upon the author in hand for entertainment instead of depending upon the action of one’s own mind. Small doses of reading aloud are good. Continual doses are fatal to a proper social ideal.

The people who make their own houses a center of attraction are, generally speaking, happy people. The house where the evening is accepted as a time of diversion is the popular house. The atmosphere there begets gaiety and naturalness of manner. We have all had the experience of making evening calls where we were compelled to stand in the hall till the gas was lighted in the drawing-room or the electricity turned on, where we must pass a dreary fifteen minutes before the members of the family are ready to receive. This kind of preliminary puts a damper upon the spirits of host and guests from which they do not easily recover. To be ready for pleasant evenings, to meet them half-way by one’s attitude is a good recipe for insuring their arrival.

A pleasant and informal method of insuring good times in one’s own house is to make a feature of the[50] Sunday night supper. This is not so formal or expensive a mode of entertainment as dinner-giving. It is a jolly and pleasant method. One may have everything in the way of edibles prepared for the meal in the morning except perhaps one article to be made on the chafing-dish. One may serve this meal with or without servants. Often the guests enjoy the freedom implied in helping the hostess carry off successfully the details of serving. The Sunday evening supper is one of those festivities that imply some elasticity in numbers. This is the sort of meal to which the unexpected guest is welcome, at which the person who “happens in” may feel entirely at ease. Where there are young people in the house, the Sunday night supper is an especially popular institution. They appreciate the delights of entertaining without the care or the formality of more elaborate functions.

The ways of enjoying life away from home after six o’clock in the evening, readily suggest themselves. There are the various functions to which one is invited. There is the theater, the most delightful of resources, but unfortunately one which by reason of its expense is available frequently only by the rich. Receptions, dinners, card-parties and the theater all go to make this earth a more agreeable place to those who have the social instinct. But[51] it must never be forgot that the fundamental place for the cultivation of this instinct is at home, which is the practise ground for formal and general society.

[52]

CHAPTER VI
FUNCTIONS

THE rules that apply to a dinner hold good at a luncheon, to which function ladies only are usually invited, although when served at twelve o’clock, and called “breakfast,” men are also bidden.

At a luncheon the women leave their coats in the dressing-room, wearing their hats and gloves to the table. The gloves are drawn off as soon as all are seated. Just why women elect to sit through an entire meal in a private house with their hats on is not readily explained and some independent hostesses request that hats be removed. But if they are retained, the gloves also should be worn to the table, not taken off up-stairs, as is often done. When the gloves are long, some women merely pull off the lower part and tuck it into the wrist, an ugly habit.

In giving luncheons, hostesses with beautifully polished tables often prefer to use doilies of linen or lace instead of a cloth. More precise women never serve a meal without using a table-cloth, but[53] from an artistic point of view the shining surface of bare mahogany is charming.

Luncheon guests should remember that their hostess may have engagements for the late afternoon, and not ordinarily prolong their stay after three o’clock—if luncheon has been at one.

At an evening reception, the guests ascend to the dressing-rooms, if they wish, or may leave wraps in the hall, if a servant be there to take them. When one comes in a carriage with only an opera wrap over a reception gown, it is hardly worth while to mount the stairs. But this must be decided by the arrangements made by the entertainers. Before one enters the drawing-room one deposits one’s cards on the salver on the hall table. If there be a servant announcing guests the new arrival gives his name clearly and distinctly to this functionary, who repeats it in such a tone that those receiving may hear it. The guest enters the parlors at this moment, proceeds directly to his hostess, and after greeting her, speaks with each person receiving with her. He then passes on and mingles with the rest of the company.

An afternoon reception is conducted in the same manner, the only difference being that, at an evening function refreshments are more elaborate than[54] at an afternoon affair, and frequently the guests repair to the dining-room, if this be large. At some day receptions, this is also done, but at a tea refreshments are usually passed in the drawing-rooms. A friend of the hostess usually pours the tea and the chocolate, and other friends are asked to assist. At successful receptions these ladies do not seek their especial friends among the guests, but are rather on the lookout for any who may be strange or timid.

Refreshments so elaborate that they will spoil the appetite for dinner are not to be served at afternoon affairs. At the tea proper, only tea, bread and butter and little cakes are offered. If more than this is served the occasion is more properly called a reception. In any case the entertainment given in the afternoon should not take on the elaborate nature of an evening party and only in provincial communities is it allowed to do this. Many women in such places do not properly distinguish between afternoon and evening dress. While a woman may suitably wear before six a gown slightly low in the neck, she should not until after that hour wear one that is lower or whose sleeves do not come to the elbow.

The “high tea” is a sit-down affair, really a very late luncheon. It is said to have originated in[55] Philadelphia and is, as one would expect, a formal stately affair with an elaborate menu. The guests have a delightful time—but do not want any dinner that evening.

It is useful to know that when on the afternoon of a reception or dinner flowers intended for decoration arrive from the florist in a wilted condition they may often be revived by plunging the stems in boiling water.

At a very large reception it is not now required that one force one’s self on the attention of the hostess for the sake of taking formal leave. One may instead depart whenever one is ready to do so.

Music at a reception should not be so loud as to make talking difficult. In any but the largest houses a harp stationed in a side room or hall is ample. Foreigners find our babel of voices at such affairs subjects of criticism but often indeed one must shout if one is to be heard. Oliver Wendell Holmes is said to have described the average afternoon tea in four words, thus: “Gibble, gabble, gobble, git.” It can not be denied that they often merit the satire.

The “coming-out” party or reception, at which the débutante makes her entrance in the world of society, is conducted as is any other reception, but[56] the débutante stands by her mother and receives with her. Each guest speaks some pleasant word of congratulation on shaking hands with the girl. Her dress should be exquisite, and she should carry flowers. These flowers are usually sent to her. When more are received than she can carry, they are placed about the room. If the coming-out party be in the evening, it is often followed by a dance for the young people.

In sending out invitations for such an affair, the daughter’s card is enclosed with that of the mother, or her name is engraved below that of her mother on the latter’s card.

One may leave such a function as has just been described as soon as one likes, and may take refreshments or not as one wishes. Just before departing the guest says good night to his hosts.

The hour at which one goes to a reception may be at any time between the hours named on the cards issued. One should never go too early, or, if it can be avoided, on the stroke of the first hour mentioned. If the cards read “eight-thirty to eleven o’clock,” any time after nine o’clock will be proper and one will then be pretty sure not to be the first arrival of the company.

A card-party is a function at which one should arrive with reasonable promptness. If the invitations[57] call for eight-thirty, one must try not to be more than ten or fifteen minutes late, as the starting of the game will be thus delayed and the hostess inconvenienced. After the game is ended, refreshments are served, and as soon after that as one pleases one may take one’s departure.

It is surprising how many people, at other times well-bred, quite lose their tempers at bridge or whist. The scent of a prize seems to arouse in them a spirit of vulgarity one would not discredit them with possessing if one met them away from the card table. The only proper attitude in all games is one or serenity and courtesy no matter what unspeakable blunders your partner may commit.

The same rule of promptness applies to a musicale. After greeting the hostess, guests take the seats assigned to them, and chat with those persons near them until the program is begun. During the music not a word should be spoken. If one has no love for music, let consideration for others cause one to be silent. If this is impossible, it is less unkind to send a regret than to attend and by so doing mar others’ enjoyment of a musical feast.

At a ball or large dance, one may arrive when[58] one wishes. The ladies are shown to the dressing-room, then meet their escorts at the head of the stairs and descend to the drawing-rooms or dance-hall. Here the host and hostess greet one, after which one mingles with the company.

At a formal dance, programs or orders of dance are provided, each man and each woman receiving one as he or she leaves the dressing-room or enters the drawing-room. Upon this card a woman has inscribed the names of the various men who ask for dances. As each man approaches her with the request that he be given a dance, she hands him her card and he writes his name on it, then writes her name on the corresponding blank on his own card. As he returns her program to her the man should say “Thank you!” The woman may bow slightly and smile or repeat the same words.

No woman versed in the ways of polite society will give a dance promised to one man to another, unless the first man be so crassly ignorant or careless as to neglect to come for it. Should a man be guilty of this rudeness he can only humbly apologize and explain his mistake, begging to be taken again into favor. If he be sincere the woman must, by the laws of good breeding, consent to overlook his lapse, but she need not give him the next dance he asks for unless she believes him to be excusable.

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A man invited to a dance will properly pay particular attention to the young ladies of the family whose guest he is, and will not neglect to ask their mother for one number if she be dancing. A convenient phrase covering any doubt as to whether a girl or woman wishes to take active part in the festivities is, “Are you dancing to-night?”

The hostess at a dance must deny herself all dancing, unless her guests are provided with partners—or, at least, she should not dance during the first part of the evening if other women are unsupplied with partners. At a large ball the hostess frequently has a floor committee of her men friends to see that sets are formed and that partners are provided for comparative strangers. No hirelings will do this so skilfully or with so much tact as will the personal friends of the entertainers.

A young girl may, after a dance, ask to be taken to her chaperon, or to some other friend. She should, soon after the dance given to one man, dismiss him pleasantly, that he may ascertain the whereabouts of his next partner before the beginning of the next dance.

At a small house dance or other informal party the hostess sometimes provides for the proper attendance for the girls going home but it is not often wise to depend on this. A girl, if she is[60] going to the home of an intimate friend, need not have a chaperon, but she should arrange that some one call for her and thus relieve her hostess of what is sometimes a trying responsibility. If the guest be a mature woman she may enjoy absolute independence by taking a cab.

The etiquette governing weddings and wedding receptions will be explained in the chapters on “Weddings.”

In our foremothers’ day the publicity of the declared engagement was a thing unknown. Now, the behavior of the affianced pair and what is due to them from society deserve a page of their own.

Perhaps the most ill-at-ease couple are the newly-married, but the engaged couple presses them hard in this line. To behave well under the trying conditions attendant upon a recently-announced engagement demands tact and unselfishness. It should not be necessary to remind any well-bred girl or man that public exhibitions of affection are vulgar, or that self-absorption, or absorption in each other, is in wretched taste. The girl should act toward her betrothed in company as if he were her brother or any trusted man friend, avoiding all low-voiced or seemingly confidential conversation. The man, while attentive to every want and wish of the woman he loves, must still mingle with others and[61] talk with them, forcing himself, if necessary, to recollect that there are other women in the world besides the one of his choice. The fact that romantic young people and critical older ones are watching the behavior of the newly-engaged pair and commenting mentally thereon, is naturally a source of embarrassment to those most nearly concerned in the matter. But let each remember that people are becoming engaged each hour, that no strange outward transformation has come over them, and that all evidences of the marvelous change which each may feel has transformed life for him or her may be shown when they are in private. If they love each other, their happiness is too sacred a thing to be dragged forth for public view.

It is customary, when an engagement is announced, for the friends of the happy girl to send her flowers, or some dainty betrothal gift. She must acknowledge each of these by a note of thanks and appreciation.

It is not good form for a girl to announce her own engagement, except to her own family and dear friends. A friend of the family may do this, either at a luncheon or party given for this purpose, or by mentioning it to the persons who will be interested in the pleasant news. When a girl[62] is congratulated, she should smile frankly and say “Thank you!” She should drill herself not to appear uncomfortably embarrassed. The same rule applies to the happy man.

The conventional diamond solitaire ring is not worn until the engagement is announced.

The happily married often consider the Great Event of their lives of sufficient interest to the world-at-large to be commemorated by yearly festivities.

Cards for wedding anniversaries bear the names of the married pair, the hours of the reception to be given and the two dates, thus:

June 15, 1880——June 15, 1905.

If the anniversary be the Silver Wedding the script may be in silver; if a Golden Wedding, in gilt. Wooden Wedding invitations, engraved or written on paper in close imitation of birch bark, are pretty. At one such affair all decorations were of shavings, and the refreshments were served on wooden plates. The Wooden Wedding is celebrated after an interval of five years. At a Tin Wedding, tinware was used extensively, even the punch being taken from small tin cups and dippers. This wedding marks the flight of ten years of married life.

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The reception is usually held in the evening, and husband and wife receive together, and, if refreshments are served at tables, they sit side by side. It is proper to send an anniversary present suitable to the occasion. Such a gift is accompanied by a card bearing the name of the sender, and the word “Congratulations.” It is customary to send such a gift only a day or two before the celebration of the anniversary.

An anniversary reception is just like a reception given at any other time, and rules for conducting such a one apply to this affair. To repeat the wedding ceremony, as is sometimes done, is in bad taste.

In close sequence to weddings and wedding anniversaries we give a few general directions for the conduct of christening-parties.

As the small infant is supposed to be asleep early in the evening, the christening ceremony should take place in the morning or afternoon. As it is not always convenient for the business men of the family to get off in the daytime on week days, Sunday afternoon is often chosen for such an affair.

Every prayer-book contains a description of the duties of godfathers and godmothers, if one belongs to a church having such. If not, the father holds the child, and the father and mother take[64] upon them the vows of the church to which they belong. After the religious service the little one is passed about among the guests, and is then taken by the nurse to the upper regions, while those assembled in its honor regale the inner man with refreshments provided for the occasion.

The godfather and godmother make a gift to the child—usually some piece of silver or jewelry. This is displayed on a table in the drawing-room with any other presents that the invited guests may bring or send. It is the proper thing for the guests to congratulate the parents on the acquisition to the family and to wish the child health and happiness.

Handsome calling gowns are en règle at a christening.

Refreshments are often served en buffet at home weddings and at receptions but there is always some awkwardness attached to this method. To provide small tables for one’s guests to be seated at is much the better way when it is practicable. You will seem more hospitable and your guest will be more comfortable. The person who eats standing always has a catch-a-train look.

If obliged for any reason to leave unusually early at any party, go as quietly as possible. No hostess[65] likes to have her entertainment broken off unseasonably.

Never hesitate at any social gathering to speak pleasantly to any one you chance to be thrown with or to respond to any one who speaks to you, even though no introduction has taken place. In England, few formal introductions are made,—as the phrase goes, “the roof is the introduction.” A passing courtesy of this sort commits you to nothing while it has a broad social value. Never indulge in snubs. If you are open to no higher appeal, remember that it pays to be civil all round. James has spoken of “the margin of manners,”—it is a useful asset.

In recent years it has become permissible for the woman who wishes to give a large entertainment to do it at a club-house or in a hotel ballroom hired for the occasion. Frequently the room is made more attractive by the addition of rugs and other furnishings from the home of the hostess. While the hired hall is a convenience, and to the woman living in an apartment a necessity for receptions and dances, it can never take in elegance and the spirit of true hospitality the place of entertaining under one’s roof. When one sees women of wealth and leisure resort to it—“Because it[66] saves bother, you know”—one feels that these women must regard the events of social life as disagreeable duties rather than delightful opportunities.

With us “Bonnets before six but not after” is the rule, and this is also the custom in England. But at formal receptions in the evening in France the hat is retained. The combination of picture-hat and low-cut gown is particularly attractive and one wishes that American women would occasionally, at least, copy it.

If you give a musicale be sure you provide plenty of chairs. To do this one must, unfortunately, rent folding chairs and these always have a slight funereal aspect. But that is better than compelling people to stand. One wonders why women of large means, who entertain on a corresponding scale, do not buy several dozen of these chairs and stain them dark. A woman who spoke of a certain house as hospitable in appearance, being asked what she meant, answered, “There are so many places in it to sit.”

A woman who is not willing to take the trouble to be a hostess should not ask people to her house. In order to make even a simple entertainment a success it is necessary that there should be a directing though quiet influence. Some women are too[67] strenuous as hostesses, others are merely guests at their own parties. Here as elsewhere there is a medium course that is most to be desired.

The spirit of an ideal society has been well expressed by Amiel in his famous Journal: “In society people are expected to behave as if they lived on ambrosia and concerned themselves with nothing but the loftiest interests. Anxiety, need, passion, have no existence. All realism is suppressed as brutal. In a word, what we call ‘society’ proceeds for the moment on the flattering illusory assumption that it is moving in an ethereal atmosphere and breathing the air of the gods. All vehemence, all natural expression, all real suffering, all careless familiarity, or any frank sign of passion, are startling and distasteful in this delicate milieu; they at once destroy the common work, the cloud palace, the magical architectural whole, which has been raised by the general consent and effort. It is like the sharp cock-crow which breaks the spell of all enchantments, and puts the fairies to flight. These select gatherings produce, without knowing it, a sort of concert for eyes and ears, an improvised work of art. By the instinctive collaboration of everybody concerned, intellect and taste hold festival, and the associations of reality are exchanged for the associations of imagination. So understood,[68] society is a form of poetry; the cultivated classes deliberately recompose the idyll of the past and the buried world of Astrea. Paradox or no, I believe that these fugitive attempts to reconstruct a dream whose only end is beauty represent confused reminiscences of an age of gold haunting the human heart, or rather aspirations toward a harmony of things which every-day reality denies to us, and of which art alone gives us a glimpse.”

Speaking of a certain soirée, the same writer emphasizes the fact that the most beautiful social groups are not confined to any one age or sex. “About thirty people representing our best society were there, a happy mixture of sexes and ages. There were gray heads, young girls, bright faces—the whole framed in some Aubusson tapestries which made a charming background, and gave a soft air of distances to the brilliantly-dressed groups.”

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CHAPTER VII
THE HOME WEDDING

TO a home wedding, invitations may be issued two weeks in advance. Their style depends upon how formal the function is to be. If a quiet family affair, the notes of invitation may be written in the first person by the bride’s mother, as:

This kind of note is, of course, only permissible for the most informal affairs. For the usual home marriage, cards, which read as follows, may be issued:

Or the invitations may read:

“R. s. v. p.” may be added if desired. Some people prefer to “request the honor of,” etc., as more elegant.

Wedding-cards are enclosed in two envelopes, with the inner one bearing the name only and left unsealed.

Sunday weddings are not good form, and Friday is, owing to the old superstition, not popular. Probably more weddings take place on Wednesday than on any other day.

At a home wedding, the bride often has but one girl attendant, and that one is the maid of honor. The bride tells her what kind of dress she wishes her to wear, and the bridegroom provides her bouquet for her. He also sends the bride her bouquet.

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The wedding expenses of the bridegroom are the flowers for the bride and her maid of honor or bridesmaids, the carriage in which he takes his bride to the train, the carriages for best man and ushers, and the clergyman’s fee. Besides this, he usually provides his ushers and best man with a scarf-pin. In some cases he gives these attendants also their gloves and ties; sometimes he does not. The bride’s family pays all other expenses, including the decorating of the house, the invitations and announcement cards and the caterer. If guests from a distance are to be met at the train by carriages, the bride’s father pays for these.

We will suppose that at the house wedding with which we have to do the only attendants are the best man, two ushers and the maid of honor, and that the ceremony is at high noon, or twelve o’clock.

The matter of lights at this function is largely a question of taste. If the day be brilliantly clear, it seems a pity to shut the glorious sunshine from the house. Therefore many brides decline to have the curtains drawn at the noon hour. Many persons prefer the light from the shaded lamps and candles, as being more becoming than the glare of day.

The wedding-breakfast is provided by a caterer always when such a thing is possible. It may consist[72] of iced or jellied bouillon, lobster cutlets, chicken pâtés, a salad, with cakes, ices and coffee. This menu can be added to or elaborated, as inclination may dictate. Sweetbread pâtés may take the place of chicken pâtés. A frozen punch may take the place of the ordinary ices, and, if one wish, a game course be introduced. A heavy breakfast is, however, a tedious and unnecessary affair.

The bride’s dress, if she be a young girl, must be white with a veil. A train is advisable, as it adds elegance and dignity to the costume. The waist is made with a high neck and long sleeves and white gloves are worn. The veil is turned back from the face and reaches to the bottom of the train where it is held in place by several pearl-headed pins. A single fold of tulle hangs over the face, being separated from the main veil. This is thrown back after the ceremony.

The bridegroom wears a black frock coat, gray trousers, white waistcoat, white tie, light gray or pearl gloves and patent leather shoes. His ushers dress in much the same fashion.

The maid of honor wears a gown of white or very light color, with a slight train, and a picture hat, or not, as she wishes. When becoming, an entire costume of pale pink, with a large hat trimmed with long plumes of the same shade, is very striking.[73] The bouquet carried by the bridesmaid will harmonize with the color of her gown. Of course, the bride’s bouquet will be white, and is usually composed of her favorite blossoms.

The old fashion of ripping the third finger of the bride’s left-hand glove, so that this finger might be slipped off for the adjusting of the ring, is no longer in vogue. Instead of this the left-hand glove is removed entirely at that part of the ceremony when the ring is placed on the bride’s finger by the bridegroom.

At a house wedding the guests assemble near the hour named, leave their wraps in the dressing-rooms, then wait in the drawing-room for the wedding. The whole parlor-floor is decorated with natural flowers, garlands of these being twisted about the balustrades, and making a bower of the room in which the marriage is to take place. If one can afford to do so, one may prefer to leave the matter of floral decorations to an experienced florist, but any person with taste can successfully decorate the rooms. A screen of green, dotted with flowers, may stand at the end of the room in which the marriage is to be solemnized, and an arch of flowers is thrown over this. Within this arch the clergyman, the bridegroom and the best man may[74] await the arrival of the wedding guests, as the wedding march begins.

The portières, shutting off the drawing-room from the hall, are closed when the time arrives for the bridal party to descend the stairs. As they reach the hall the strains of the wedding march sound.

One word as to the orchestra. This should be stationed at such a distance from the clergyman and bridal party that its strains will not drown the words of the service. Since Fashion decrees that music should be played during the service, it should be so soft and low that it accentuates, rather than muffles the voices of the participants in the ceremony. Loud strains detract from the impressiveness of the occasion, and cause a feeling of irritation to the persons who would not miss a single word of the solemn service.

Through the door at the opposite end of the room from that in which the bridegroom stands, enters the wedding procession. The two ushers come first, having a moment or two before marked off the aisle, by stretching two lengths of white satin ribbon from end to end of the room. Following the ushers walks the bridesmaid alone, and, after her, on the arm of her father, comes the bride. At the improvised altar, or at the cushions[75] upon which the bridal couple are to kneel, the ushers separate, one going to each side. The maid of honor moves to the left of the bride, and the father lays the bride’s hand in the hand of the bridegroom, then stands a little in the rear until he gives her away, after which point in the ceremony he steps back among the guests, or at one side, apart from the bridal group. The best man stands on the bridegroom’s right. It is he who gives the ring to the clergyman, who hands it to the bridegroom, who places it on the finger of the bride.

When the ring is to be put on, the bride hands her bouquet to the maid of honor, and draws off her left-hand glove, giving that also to the maid of honor, who holds both until after the benediction. After congratulating the newly-wedded pair, the clergyman gives them his place, and they stand facing the company, to receive congratulations. The bride’s mother should have been in the parlor to receive the guests as they arrived, and during the ceremony stands at the end of the room near the bridal party. She should be the first to congratulate the happy couple, the bridegroom’s parents following those of the bride. The maid of honor stands by the bride while she receives.

After congratulations have been extended, the wedding-breakfast is served at little tables placed[76] about the various rooms. The bride and her party may, if desired, have a table to themselves, and upon this may be a wedding-cake, to be cut by the bride. This is not essential and has, of late years, been largely superseded by the squares of wedding cake, packed in dainty boxes, one of which is handed to each guest on leaving.

When the time comes for the bride to change her dress she slips quietly from the room, accompanied by her maid of honor. The bridegroom goes to an apartment assigned to him and his best man to put on his traveling suit. Later, the maid of honor may come down and tell the bride’s mother in an “aside” that she may now go up and bid her daughter good-by in the privacy of her own room. Afterward the young husband and wife descend the stairs together, say good-by in general to the guests awaiting them in the lower hall, and drive off, generally, one regrets to say, amid showers of rice.

I would say just here that the playing of practical jokes on a bridal pair is a form of pleasantry that should be confined to classes whose intellects have not been cultivated above the appreciation of such coarse fun. To tie a white satin bow on the trunk of the so-called happy pair so that all passengers may take note of them, is hardly kind. But[77] jesting compared to some of the deeds done. A few weeks ago the papers gave an account of a groomsman who slipped handcuffs upon the wrists of bride and bridegroom, then lost the key, and the embarrassed couple had to wait for their train, chained together, until a file could be procured, by which time their train had left. Such forms of buffoonery may be diverting to the perpetrator; they certainly are not amusing to the sufferers.

this is refined A girl who is to be married quietly with only relatives or intimate friends present often says, in explaining this fact, “I’m not going to have a wedding.” The expression is not well chosen, for it inevitably suggests that the glitter of the ceremony is in her eyes more important than the solemn words which are the wedding.

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CHAPTER VIII
THE CHURCH WEDDING

THERE is about a church wedding a formality that is dispensed with at a home ceremony. The cards of invitation may be engraved in the same form as those described in the last chapter, but the church at which the marriage is to take place is mentioned instead of the residence of the bride’s parents. If in a large city where curiosity seekers are likely to crowd into the edifice, it is customary to enclose with the card of invitation a small card to be presented at the door. Only bearers of these bits of pasteboard are admitted. With the invitations may be cards for the reception or the wedding-breakfast to follow the ceremony. These cards demand acceptances or regrets, which should always be addressed to the mother of the bride, never to the bride-elect.

The decorations for a church wedding may be elaborate. As a rule, one color scheme is chosen, and carried out through all the arrangements. For[79] example, the coloring is pink and white, and if the wedding is in the autumn, chrysanthemums may be the chosen flowers, if in the summer, roses. The matter of decorations is usually put into the hands of a florist.

White satin ribbon is stretched across the pews to be occupied by the members of the two families or, more courteously, large bows of it are fastened at the end of each, and to these pews the destined occupants are conducted by the ushers a short time before the bridal party enters the edifice. A list of the persons entitled to sit in these pews should be given to the chief usher.

At a large and elaborate wedding six or eight ushers are often needed. Sometimes an usher follows the older custom of giving his arm to a lady, but he may be less formal if he choose and merely precede her down the aisle. There is an equal number of bridesmaids, a maid of honor and a best man. The best man, the bridegroom, and the clergyman enter the church by the vestry door, and await at the altar the coming of the bride and her attendants. The organ, which has been playing for some moments, announces the arrival of the wedding party by the opening strains of the wedding march.

When the carriages containing the party arrive at the church door the ushers go down the canopy-covered[80] walk and help the girls to alight, convey them into the vestibule and close the outer doors of the church while the procession forms. Then the inside doors are thrown open and as the organ peals forth the wedding march, the procession passes up the aisle at a dignified pace, but not, let us hope, at the painfully slow gait some persons think necessary. First, come the ushers, two by two, next, the bridesmaids in pairs, then the maid of honor, walking alone, and the bride on the arm of her father, or other masculine relative if her father is not living. As the altar is reached the ushers divide, half the number going to the right, the other half to the left, then the bridesmaids do the same, passing in front of the ushers and forming a portion of a circle nearer the altar. The maid of honor, who is sometimes now, instead, a matron of honor, stands near the bride, on her left hand, and the best man stands near the bridegroom’s right. The bridegroom, stepping forward to meet the bride, takes her hand and leads her to their place in front of the clergyman, the father remaining standing a little in the rear of the bride and to one side until that portion of the service is reached when the clergyman asks, “Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?” He then takes his daughter’s hand, and laying it in the hand of the bridegroom, replies, “I do.” After this he steps[81] quietly down from the chancel and takes his place in the pew with his wife, or the other members of the family. If the bride’s father is dead his place may be taken by any middle-aged man relative or family friend.

During the ceremony the best man stands at the right of the bridegroom, and a trifle behind him, taking charge of his friend’s hat and handing him the ring when it is needed. It is he, also, who pays the clergyman and if a register is to be signed, he signs it. The final responsibility for a ceremony without an awkward hitch rests on his shoulders and on those of the maid of honor.

The maid of honor, standing near the bride, holds her bouquet and takes her glove when the ring is put on, and continues to hold them until after the benediction, which the bridal pair kneels to receive. Then the organ again sounds the wedding march, and the guests remain standing as the party assembled at the altar moves down the aisle. First, comes the bride on her husband’s arm, then the best man and the maid of honor together, then the ushers and the bridesmaids, each girl on the arm of an usher. After that the families of the bride and bridegroom leave. The bridal party is driven directly to the home of the bride’s parents, where the wedding-breakfast is served or, if a reception[82] follows the wedding, where the bride awaits the arrival of her guests.

The conventional dress for the bride married in daylight is the same as for an evening wedding, a trained white gown with lace or tulle veil. The same is true of the costumes of the bridesmaids and maid of honor. These are selected by the bride. At one pink-and-white wedding the bridesmaids wore pink dresses with pink picture-hats, while the maid of honor wore a gown of palest green with hat to match,—hers being the only touch of any color but pink in the assembly, and serving to accentuate the general rose-like scheme. The bridesmaids’ bouquets are of flowers to harmonize with their costumes. The bride’s bouquet is always white, bride roses being favorites for this purpose. Brides with artistic natures who find white satin and orange blossoms unbecoming, sometimes arrange a softer costume that is still sufficiently bride-like to satisfy sentiment. Often little children are used as attendants for the bride. They precede the maid of honor and may scatter flower petals down the aisle as they go. The effect is charming. A matron of honor must wear a colored costume.

At a day wedding the bridegroom wears a frock coat, light gray trousers, white waistcoat, white satin or silk tie and patent leather shoes. Of course, the only hat permissible with a frock coat[83] is a high silk one. The gloves are white, or pale gray. The ushers’ dress is the same except that their ties need not be white.

At an evening wedding full dress is, of course, necessary. Then the bridegroom wears his dress suit, white waistcoat, white lawn tie and white gloves. The ushers are dressed in the same manner.

It is customary for the bride to give her bridesmaids some little gift. This may be a stick-pin or brooch bearing the intertwined initials of the bridal pair. This pin is usually worn by the recipient at the wedding.

The bride and the bridegroom with the bridesmaids stand together at the end of the drawing-room to receive the guests. An usher meets each guest at his, or her arrival, and offering his arm, escorts the newcomer to the bridal pair, asking for the name as he does so. This name he repeats distinctly on reaching the bride, who extends her hand in greeting, and receives congratulations. The bridegroom is then congratulated, and the guest straightway makes room for the next comer.

One is often asked what should be said to the newly-married pair,—what form congratulations should take, and so on. Stilted phrases are at all times to be avoided, and the greeting should be as[84] simple and straightforward as possible. It is good form to wish the bride happiness, while the bridegroom is congratulated. Thus one says to the bride, “I hope you will be very happy,—and I am sure you will.” And to the bridegroom one may say,—“You do not need to be told how much you are to be congratulated, for you know it already. Still I do want to say that I congratulate you from my heart.”

A pretty custom followed by some brides is that of turning, when half-way up the stairs, after the reception or breakfast is over, untying the ribbon fastening the bouquet together, and scattering the flowers thus released among the men waiting in the hall below. This disposes of the wedding bouquet which one has not the heart to throw away, and yet which one can not keep satisfactorily.

If gifts are displayed at a reception, it should be in an upper room, and all cards should be removed. The bride may keep a list of her presents and of the donors, but to display cards gives an opportunity for invidious comparisons. More and more the custom of showing gifts, except to intimate friends in private, is going out.

The tables for the wedding-breakfast may be placed about the drawing-rooms, and the guests are seated informally at them. The only exception to[85] this rule is the bride’s table at which the bridal party sits. As artificial lights are usually used at elaborate functions, even at high noon, pretty candelabra are upon each table. Or, if preferred, fairy lamps may take the place of the candelabra.

The menu for the wedding-breakfast may consist of grapefruit with Maraschino cherries, or of oyster cocktails, or of clams on the half-shell, as a first course; next, hot clam bouillon (unless clams have already been served) or chicken bouillon; fish in some form, as fish croquettes with oyster-crab sauce; sweetbread pâtés with green peas; broiled chicken or French chops with potato croquettes or with Parisian potatoes; punch frappé; game with salad; ices, cakes, coffee. If wines are used, champagne is served with the breakfast. Slices of the wedding-cake packed in dainty satin-paper boxes are given to the guests as they leave.

The breakfast over, the bride slips away quietly, to change her dress for the wedding journey, and departs as after a home wedding.

The guests at a wedding-breakfast must call on the mother of the bride within three weeks after the marriage. They will, of course, call on the bride on one of her “At Home” days, the dates of which are given with the wedding invitations or with the announcement cards.

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Announcement cards are issued immediately after the wedding, so must be addressed and stamped ready to be mailed at once. The text usually used is this:

Another form that is sometimes seen is the following:

This last form is seldom used except in cases where the bride is so unfortunate as to have no relatives in whose names she may announce her marriage.

With the announcement cards may be enclosed another card bearing the dates of the bride’s “At Home” days, and the hours at which she will receive. Announcement cards are usually issued after a small or private wedding to which only a limited number of guests have been invited. If the wedding[87] has been large or was followed by a large reception to which all one’s calling acquaintances may be bidden, the announcement cards are unnecessary and the “At Home” cards are issued with the invitations to the marriage, or are sent out after the bride returns from her trip.

The dress for a widow at her second marriage should be made of some elegant colored fabric and she should wear a hat if the ceremony is performed in a church. There should be no attendants except the father or brother or an intimate friend.

A young girl without parents and of limited income may quite properly be married in her traveling costume and with the utmost simplicity. If she have a proper sense of the delicacy and solemnity of the occasion she will not, however, go to the house of a strange clergyman for the ceremony but have it performed in the parlor of her nearest friend or relative. In this way she shows her own good breeding and protects herself from any idle remarks. For a girl to join her fiancé in a distant city and marry him there is a step seldom taken in wisdom, whatever the circumstances.

Notes to all who have sent gifts must be written by the bride before she leaves home.

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CHAPTER IX
THE DINNER PARTY

THE dinner is the most important and the most delightful of social functions. It is the most civilized of entertainments, and to say of a town that it is a dinner-giving town means that it has arrived socially. This flower of hospitality blooms slowly. In many western places where the reception, the afternoon tea, the theater party and the ladies’ luncheon flourish like a green bay tree, the dinner is an unknown function. A young hostess is often afraid of attempting it, as is also the unaccustomed diner-out. Yet it is not a formidable entertainment, rightly considered, and when happily managed the return it brings far outweighs the outlay of time and trouble.

The dinner, height of hospitality as it is, is yet within the reach of most of us as far as expenditure is concerned. The cost of a dinner may be much or little. The menu may be simple or elaborate. Five courses is enough for a dainty satisfying meal, yet eighteen and twenty are sometimes[89] served. The table decorations may be of the most expensive sort; yet a half-dozen roses and candles in keeping are sufficient to give a properly festive touch.

The number of servants required depends, of course, upon the elaborateness or simplicity of the menu and upon the number of guests to be served. The size of the dinner party is elastic, though eighteen at the table is usually regarded as the maximum.

The little dinner party has the advantage of being in some ways a more attractive function than the big one, as well as one in which people of small incomes may safely indulge. When a dinner is so large that general conversation is impossible, it defeats its own purpose. Eight guests are a good number. Why it should be that ten guests are still so few as to form a little dinner party and that twelve guests undoubtedly make a big dinner party is one of those inscrutable truths that it takes something more than arithmetic to explain. But so it is. If the guests are properly chosen for a small dinner there should be in the atmosphere a combination of pretty formality and agreeable familiarity about this function that no other can give in so large a degree.

The choice of guests is, of course, the first and[90] most important consideration. Upon this more than upon any other consideration depends the success of your party. It does not do to invite people together for commercial reasons simply or from any other purely selfish motive. It does not do to go through one’s list and invite people, by instalments, straight through the alphabet. The hostess must exercise all the tact and discrimination of which she is possessed. It is not always necessary that the people chosen should be friends and acquaintances but it is necessary that they have interests, broadly speaking, of the same sort, that they have enough in common to make a basis for easy informal talk. If the people chosen like one another or have the capacity for interesting and diverting one another, the hostess should feel that the weightiest business is off her hands.

Dinner invitations should be sent out at least a week before the date of the function. In places where social life is of a strenuous character and people are likely to have many engagements ahead, two weeks should be allowed. In New York and Washington, invitations for formal dinners are issued four weeks before the event. The invitation to a dinner should be answered immediately. As the number of guests invited in any case is small, the hostess should know as soon as possible the[91] intention of those invited, so that, in case of a regret, she may fill the place so quickly that the person next chosen may not realize that he is an alternate. The letters R. s. v. p. should not be put on a dinner invitation. Any one who receives such a card or note is supposed to understand that an answer is expected.

When the guests are selected, the invitations delivered and the proper number of acceptances received, the hostess may then turn her attention to the other arrangements. The important matter of deciding upon the menu is next in order. If the hostess has an admirably trained cook or is in a position to engage an expert cateress, a consultation with one or the other settles the affair. In case she has not the one and is not financially able to engage the other, she must depend upon her own resources. She must select a menu which she and her maid can together carry out successfully.

The composition of a dinner menu is an employment that gives scope for talent and originality. The range of possible dishes is large, the variety in the way of combination inexhaustible. To plan a dinner that is at once palatable and pleasing to the eye requires no mean ability. To a woman who has a genius for culinary feats, this sort of accomplishment may be an exercise of the artistic faculties;[92] and the effect produced upon the partakers of the feast goes far beyond mere physical satisfaction. If one is in the habit of studying cook-books, which make more interesting reading than they are generally given credit for, the opportunity afforded by a dinner party for the display of one’s knowledge should be as eagerly welcomed as the opportunity offered a violinist for the exhibition of his art. Novelties are to be indulged in sparingly. Queer highly-colored dishes make the guests nervous as to the hygienic results.

Sometimes fashion decrees that a square or oblong table is the appropriate form. Again she approves the round table. At the present time the round table has the preference and, as far as the present writer can see, with reason. The round table puts all the diners on an equal footing instead of establishing a sometimes embarrassing distinction between guests and hosts. Its use makes it possible for each guest to have a good view of every other guest and this promotes general conversation. Added to these merits is another of importance, namely, that a round table is more susceptible of attractive decoration.

Many people who employ a square table for family use, employ on formal occasions a round top, capable of seating twelve or fourteen people, which[93] top can be placed above the table commonly in use. This top when not in use folds together on hinges in the center. On occasion it can be clamped to the table in ordinary so that it holds perfectly firm.

One should not ask more guests than the table will roomily accommodate. A woman guest will often be glad of a footstool.

On the morning of the dinner the silver and china necessary should be looked over and later in the day properly placed. The table should be arranged with cloth, the napkins, the various knives, forks and spoons, the flowers, the candles, and the service plates, if such are used. The china to be employed for the various courses should be placed, before the dinner, in the butler’s pantry in a way to promote, as far as possible, swift and deft service with the maid. She should be instructed exactly where she can lay her hands on the dishes for each item in the menu so that her attendance may be expert and noiseless. For her benefit it is well also to make out in good legible writing, the menu for the meal and hang it in the kitchen in full view of her and any other servants employed for the occasion. In giving a dinner nothing should be left to chance. Every emergency should be taken into consideration and planned for. In small[94] households where only one maid is employed, a trained waitress may be hired at small expense to help serve.

The flowers to be used should have some relation to the color of the candles if candles are used. A few flowers skilfully arranged are sometimes quite as effective as a profusion. A clear glass jar which shows stems and leaves as well as blooms is a good investment for the woman whose love of beauty goes further than her ability to pay. The importance of foliage is not always appreciated. One of the cleverest minor inventions for making a few blossoms appear to their best advantage is the cross-bar of wire which one finds now in the shops, in various sizes and fitted to the tops of various ornamental vases. By the use of this device each flower stands out in individual beauty. The effect of no single blossom is lost.

Avoid a centerpiece that is so high as to obstruct the view across the table.

The table-cloth and napkins should be of pure white and of the finest napery that one can afford. Silk and lace contraptions that will not stand washing are in bad taste. The table-cloth is not starched and preferably is never folded by the laundress but rolled so that when used it shows no creases except one down the center. First on the table is[95] laid a heavy felt cloth known as the silence cloth, which, besides deadening sounds, serves to make the damask lie more smoothly and gives it a richer, handsomer appearance than if it were spread on the bare boards. If the game or joints are to be served from the table, a carver’s square should be laid at the head of the table and beneath it a thick mat for the protection of the table surface. Beside this square are laid the carving knife and fork, a table spoon and a gravy ladle. At each guest’s place, is set a “service plate,” insisted on by the punctilious who choose to obey the unwritten rule of hospitality that a guest once seated is never without a plate. This plate is exchanged by the waitress for the one bearing the food when it is served. To the left of this plate will be arranged the forks, tines upward. These will ordinarily consist of two large forks for the main meat course and the salad, then a third fork for the fish and outside of these a small oyster fork if there is to be a course of raw oysters. At the right of the plate will be two dinner knives with the edges of the blades turned toward the plate, a fish knife, and the spoons, including first a small spoon for the after-dinner coffee. The spoon that will be used first is placed on the outside for obvious reasons. The soup spoon with the bowl uppermost will be placed either at right angles to the knives or from right to left back[96] of the plate. The water glass and the glasses for wine, if these are used, stand to the right and back, a little beyond the knives. As butter is not served at formal dinners the bread and butter plate and butter spreader are omitted. The folded napkin containing the dinner roll is laid to the right of the knives or on the service plate. Fancy foldings of the napkin are not approved.

When the waitress hands a dish from which the guest must serve himself she offers it on the left so that he may use his right hand freely. However, when she puts a plate before him, she should do it from the right. Many hostesses decree that on clearing the table, the large meat and vegetable dishes should be taken first and the soiled plates last. A reversal of this procedure would seem to be an improvement as the untidy plates are the least sightly things about the table. If the maid is skilful she will notice whether any guest has by chance already used the spoons or other silver required for the dessert course and supply those without a request being made.

In clearing the table the maid must not stack the dishes. She should take a plate in each hand and no more.

Avoid using heavily scented flowers on a dinner table.

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Menu cards do not belong in private houses. They have the somewhat vulgar effect of laying too much stress on the food. The ideal dinner is, indeed, a delightful repast, but it should be first of all what has been wittily described as “a feast of reason and a regular freshet of soul.”

A fruit centerpiece is not often seen but it is handsome. A large silver plate or basket heaped with pink and white winter grapes or even with rosy apples and “glove” oranges is most effective.

If candles are used these should be kept on ice until near the dinner hour, then lighted and the wicks cut, to prevent smoking and dripping. Many persons who like to put shades on their candles have difficulty in preventing them from catching fire. It is worth knowing that this is more likely to occur when the holders are fitted to the top of the candle than where they clasp it below the heated part.

When a dessert dish is placed on a larger plate, or a finger-bowl is set before the guest, a small lace paper mat may be laid between plate and dish.

If the dining-room floor is of hard wood rubber tips may be bought at any department store and put on the chair-legs to prevent the noise of scraping.

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The table should be carefully set so that the centerpiece is exactly in the center and the guests’ places precisely opposite each other.

As a rule the china used throughout a dinner exactly matches, but if a hostess prefers she may use different sets for different courses.

In serving soup be careful not to give too much. A half ladleful is an “elegant sufficiency.”

If a dinner is very formal and several wines are to be served, it is correct to use white wine with the fish, sherry with the soup, claret with the roast and champagne or Burgundy with the game. The white wine, sherry and champagne should be kept cold; champagne, indeed, should be very cold and is served from a bottle wrapped in a napkin. Claret and Burgundy are most agreeable at a temperature of about seventy. All these wines are served from the bottle except claret and sherry, which are usually decanted, that is to say, they are poured from the original bottle into a cut-glass bottle or decanter intended especially for table use.

Much of the success of a dinner depends upon the serving. A well-trained maid or man is indispensable, and it is not to be denied that the training, for this purpose, of the average servant to be found in the West is difficult. But with patience[99] it can be done. If one is in the habit, as one should be, of insisting that the home dinner be served with proper formality, the extra duties involved in the service of a larger number of people and of a greater range of dishes need not be viewed with terror.

If there are ten or twelve guests the services of two maids or men become necessary, lest the portions on the plates become cold before the sauces and vegetables that are to accompany them can be passed. For elaborate dinners the rule is one waiter to every three guests.

In punctilious households the unwritten law that a guest should never be without a plate before him is observed, and this is known as the service or place plate. At an informal meal this plate may be dispensed with.

A maid should be taught to move quietly, to keep her eyes and thoughts on what she is doing, and in an emergency to go directly to her mistress for a quiet word of instruction. It is particularly important that the domestic in the kitchen should also be as quiet as possible in her movements. Nothing is more annoying during a dinner conversation than a crash of crockery in the culinary regions.

As a rule dinner is served in most American cities at seven o’clock. In New York, however,[100] where long distance makes it difficult for men to reach home, dress for the evening and arrive at any stated place, eight o’clock is frequently the hour.

In not a few houses the fine old fashion of saying grace is still observed and the guest should carefully watch his hostess for a cue as to how to conduct himself. A young woman who happened to be visiting in one of the older New England families chanced to take her first meal at the dinner hour. After a moment’s pause she was asked by her hostess to start the meal, and with best intentions she did so by passing a bread plate near her. To her dismay she afterward learned that she had been expected to say grace. Of course, such an incident could occur only at an informal dinner, but it serves to bring up the point that many a hostess embarrasses a guest by directly asking him to perform this service which a natural timidity or his being unaccustomed to it may make an ordeal for him. If a clergyman is present, respect to his position, whatever one’s own religious convictions or want of them, demands that he be asked to say grace.

At informal dinners the roast may be carved at the table if the hostess prefers this plan and if the host can be persuaded to do the carving and[101] is able to do it skilfully and quietly. This plan, which is English in its origin, seems more hospitable in a way than the more formal custom of serving everything from side-tables, a la Russe. Undoubtedly there is a flavor of the hotel and restaurant about the Russian style that is less agreeable, though simpler and more expeditious. It may be remarked, however, that while it is of first importance that a dinner service should move promptly and that it should not at the outside take up more than two hours, anything that actually suggests haste is contrary to the spirit of the occasion.

When the meats are carved at the table the vegetables should be passed by the maid, as the guests may have a choice. For the person at the head of the table to serve both meat and vegetables is permissible only at a family dinner. In some households the host or hostess makes a specialty of salad dressing, and this course, also, is served at the table. As the salad bowl may be so arranged as to present a beautiful, as well as a delicious sight, the custom has more than one reason to recommend it.

As to who is served first there has been considerable discussion. The plan has recently come into favor in some houses to hand the first plate in each instance to the hostess in the thought that[102] if there is anything wrong with the dish she may detect it before the guests are served. The usual plan, however, is to serve first the lady sitting at the host’s right hand, then all the other ladies, and lastly the men. Or, if two maids are serving, one may take one side of the table and one the other. The maid should hand the dishes on the left side of the guest. A clever maid can wait on eight people, provided the dinner is not too elaborate.

The dress of a maid waiting at dinner should be in winter of a plain black stuff, in summer of plain white. Over this is worn a white bib apron with bands going over the shoulders. The skirt of the apron should be large so that the front of the dress is protected. A plain white collar and white cuffs and a white cap without strings or crown complete this costume. No ornaments of any sort are permissible.

A butler should wear the ordinary dress suit with a white tie. It is a matter of wonder to the thoughtful why society has not yet found a way to clothe her butlers and waiters in some manner that shall prevent strangers from taking them for guests, but as yet no such way seems to have been found. In default of a butler many families keep what is known as a house-man, who performs the duties of both butler and footman; that is to say,[103] he opens the door and also assists at table. Such a servant has a white linen jacket and dark trousers, though some women who have negro house-men and a taste for the picturesque prefer that they shall wear dark colored coats with brass buttons and a scarlet or other bright colored waistcoat. While one sees in certain nice houses white gloves on the hands of a house-man when he is waiting at table, the best taste is against their use, as they undeniably suggest that they are worn to hide dirty hands.

At formal dinners a woman is expected to wear a dress cut moderately low in the neck, while for men what is known as evening dress is imperative. Sometimes an invitation contains the word “informal,” but unless one has explicit direction to the contrary, no departure should be made from the usual method of dressing.

When a dinner is hastily arranged for an out-of-town guest, who is perhaps passing through the city for the day only, or for some distinguished man or woman on a tour of lectures, the hostess may particularly request the guests not to wear evening clothes out of consideration for the guest of honor who, not expecting any social courtesies, is not prepared so to dress himself. In such cases the men will wear their day clothes, though a[104] woman is always privileged to make her evening toilet somewhat more dainty and elaborate than her daytime one. Not to appear in one’s best when the occasion is suited to happy raiment is to do both one’s self and the occasion an injustice. Most people are at their best when they have the consciousness of being attractively attired, and one may be sure that the hostess always appreciates any effort made by her guests toward increasing the charm of the social picture which she has composed. A dark or dowdy dress is an ugly note in such a group and reveals in the woman who causes it an insufficient sense of the compliment that has been extended to her.

The dinner coat, or Tuxedo, was designed to be worn only on the most informal occasions, though there is a tendency to widen its field of usefulness. The theory is that it should never be worn where there are ladies, but the modern practise has broken the theory down so that at small dinners, the theater, club affairs, etc., the dinner coat is worn by men who give the subject of dress intelligent consideration. With the dinner coat a black silk string tie should be worn; this the wearer should tie in a bow, tightly drawn at the center. Gray ties have been urged by the fashion makers, but they are not so good as the black. The white lawn tie should never[105] be worn with the dinner coat. Gold studs and gold link cuff buttons, or the newer dark enamel should be used, in shirts of plaits or tucks of various widths. These softer styles of shirts are now in high favor and are a sensible and proper innovation. Extremes of styles should be avoided, and many men of conservative tastes still wear the stiff plain linen or piqué bosoms. A black waistcoat of the same material as the coat is preferable to the fancier forms.

It is gratifying to note that in the best houses neither the hostess nor any woman guest is seen to appear with a dress improperly low. A woman, not long used to the better social circle into which she married, was once invited to meet an actress at a private dinner party. To the amazement and distress of her hostess she appeared in a gown that evidently carried out her idea of what is “Bohemian.” She had quite clearly been determined not to be outdone by the actress. To her chagrin she found this woman in a gown much higher than her own and wholly modest in every particular. To govern one’s dress or conduct in society by any notion of outdoing some one else is an indication of the parvenu and likely to meet with dire results.

Those who entertain often soon learn to discriminate[106] between the guest whose presence helps to make a dinner a success and one who is an undigested lump in the social leaven. The desirable guest is not necessarily a wit or a beauty but she comes with a glad mind and heart, arrayed in her prettiest and with the sincere intention of trying to give pleasure. She realizes the compliment of her invitation and that it can not be acknowledged merely by extending a similar one. She must, as some one recently put it, “pay her scat” before she leaves the house. If her dearest enemy is present nothing in her manner will betray that fact to the hostess.

The meal should be announced by the servant in charge opening the door or doors leading into the dining-room and saying, “Dinner is served.” It saves confusion even at a small dinner to mark the places at table by cards inscribed with the appropriate name, but this is not obligatory.

The host, with the lady who is to sit at his right, is the first to leave the drawing-room. The order of the other couples does not matter, except that the hostess, with the man who is to sit at her right, leaves last. The places of honor are those at the right of the host and the hostess. If the President were a guest, the hostess would lead the way to the dining-room with him, the President’s wife coming immediately after with the host. If two ladies[107] are entertaining, one must play the part of host. At very large and formal dinners trays on which are small envelopes are placed in the men’s dressing-room, each envelope bearing the name of the woman the guest to whom it is addressed is to take in, and indicating by the letter L. or R. in the corner of the card on which side the two will sit.

A dinner party demands that the guest be not more than ten minutes early, and ordinarily not a half-minute behind the time mentioned in the invitation. In large cities, however, on account of the great distances, ten or fifteen minutes’ grace is allowed. After that interval has passed, the hostess—or her butler if she have one—should see that the cover laid for this person is removed, and the usual announcement made that “Dinner is served.” The servant at the door directs the women to their dressing-room, the men to theirs. In the dressing-room the women leave their wraps, but do not remove their gloves. Each woman, accompanied by her escort, descends to the drawing-room, greets the hosts, and the man who is to take her out to dinner is then introduced to her.

Where there are many courses a guest may, if he wish, sometimes decline one or more of these. He may also show by a gesture that he will not[108] take wine, or, if his glasses are filled, he may simply lift them to his lips, taste the contents, then drink no more. As a glass will be filled as soon as emptied, the guest may say in a low voice, “No more, please!” when he has had enough. None of these refusals should be so marked as to attract the attention of his entertainers. A wine-glass should never be turned down.

After the ladies have removed their gloves and the dinner-roll or slice of bread has been taken from the folded napkin and the napkin laid in the lap, the dinner conducts itself. The chapter headed “At Table” will answer any doubtful questions as to the manner of eating at home or abroad.

After the dinner is ended, the hostess gives a slight signal, or makes the move to rise. The gentlemen stand while the ladies pass out of the room, then sit down again for their cigars, coffee and liquors. The chairs, on rising from a dinner-table, should not be pushed back in place. Coffee and cordials are served to the ladies in the drawing-room, where they are soon joined by the gentlemen.

When the time for departure approaches it is the place of the woman who goes first to rise, motion to her husband, and then as soon as she and he have said good night to the host and hostess,[109] they bow to the other guests, and retire to the dressing-rooms. After this they go directly from the house, not entering the drawing-room again. If there are guests of honor they should be the first to go.

In saying good night it is perfectly proper, extremists to the contrary notwithstanding, to thank the entertainers for a pleasant evening. Such thanks need not be profuse, but may be simply—“Good night, and many thanks for a delightful evening!” or “It is hard to leave, we have had such a pleasant time!” One need never be afraid to let one’s hosts know that the time spent in their presence has passed delightfully.

Given well-prepared food, whether simple or elaborate, proper service, a room not too warm and a current of fresh air that does not blow on any one, guests sympathetically chosen, the dinner can not fail to be a success. A young married belle of a western city who was visiting in a smart New York set was asked at her first dinner what people in the West did for after-dinner entertainment. “They talk,” she said. The people present looked at her as if they thought that a dull way of spending the time, and to a query of hers regarding their methods of entertainment, replied[110] that they usually “had in” a professional or professionals of some sort for the amusement of the guests after the eating and drinking were over. To her taste this indicated an unenviable mental poverty, as it will to most sensible people. The best flavor of a successful dinner party lies not in the food, however grateful that may be to the palate, but in the talk. A dinner is the entertainment at which sprightly natural talk counts for the most; and this is probably the reason that the world over the dinner is considered the most elegant and distinguished form of entertainment.

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CHAPTER X
THE EDUCATION OF A YOUNG GIRL

IS IT a good thing to send a young girl away to school, and, if so, shall one send her to boarding-school or college? are the questions that agitate many a household where the daughter or daughters are old enough to make these questions pertinent. Over-conscientious and fearful mothers sometimes decide that the risk is too great in sending girls away from home. They fear, with the loosening of home ties, a lessening of a sense of responsibility, while at the same time they doubt a girl’s power to get on without maternal supervision. The judgment and experience of the world is against this point of view. “Homekeeping youths have ever homekeeping wits,” is no more true of boys than of girls. Going away to school should be one of the richly vitalizing influences of life. To a certain extent a girl is thrown on her own resources when away as she would not be at home, yet the conditions in any school worthy of the name are such that she is guarded and protected. At home, her[112] friendships and acquaintances have been made largely through the connection of her family with the community in which she lives. Away, she must make her own friends. At home, it is probable that mother, older sister or a kindly aunt have done her darning and other mending. Away, she must do these things for herself or they remain undone. In many ways the opportunity is given her by a year or two away at school to prove herself, yet to do so without danger, as the amateur swordsman fences with a button on his foil. Outside of these considerations one of the most important is the development that comes through delight in change. Novel conditions have charm for all ages, and in youth, much more than in age, they are a spur to endeavor. Happiness of a healthful kind stimulates the mind, and it is commonly true that the years spent away at school are pleasant ones.

The advocates of the different sorts of training represented by boarding-school and college life are often hostile to each other. There is much to be said in favor of both educational methods, and the decision concerning which shall be adopted for a young girl should depend largely upon her own temperament, tastes and inclinations. The advocates of college life are too apt to assume that the texture of boarding-school learning is flimsy, which[113] it sometimes is. The friends of boarding-school life assume that a college training means an absence of regard for the feminine graces; and it is true that some of its representatives are not social successes. But such comment goes a short way in helping one to a decision as to whether boarding-school or college shall be the destination of one’s daughter.

The character of the girls’ colleges in our country is much more generally known than that of boarding-schools. The colleges are few in number, and to their proceedings is given a degree of publicity not accorded the proceedings of smaller educational enterprises. There are boarding-schools and boarding-schools. Investigation can not be too careful before placing a girl in one of them. The best offer advantages of an admirable kind. The courses of study, while not so diverse as those of college, are particularly adapted to feminine tastes, while the accomplishments which tend to make social life more interesting and agreeable are given a large share of attention. History, literature, the modern languages, music and drawing have perhaps the foremost places in the curriculum. Many of these schools are in cities where opportunities are given, under proper chaperonage, for girls to see the best theatrical performances and to hear concerts of value. In these schools girls come into[114] more intimate relations with their teachers than is possible in a college, and they are also much more strictly chaperoned. Matters of form and deportment, details of manner, so far as they can be taught, are given thought and attention often with happy results. One may say that a girl should learn these things at home, but sometimes her surroundings there are not favorable and again she needs the impetus of just such criticism as she receives at a good boarding-school to make her aware of the value of form. The aim of a good boarding-school is to make of a girl an attractive member of society as well as to make her mentally appreciative. The stamp of certain admirable boarding-schools upon the manners of the women who have attended them is unmistakable. I once heard a man say that he could always “spot” a pupil of Miss Porter’s famous Farmington School within half an hour after introduction, by certain delicate formalities in her manner.

A woman’s college offers a much wider sphere for a girl’s energies and abilities than does boarding-school. If she loves study, is fond of athletics and is interested widely in human nature, college is the place for her. Here she has a chance for the development of her best mental powers. Deportment is not one of the unwritten branches of the curriculum[115] as it is in the girls’ boarding-school. Nevertheless it is taught by the social preeminence of those who bring the best breeding with them. Though the surveillance is not what it is in boarding-schools, it is not so necessary, because the girls are somewhat older than those in boarding-schools and because the sentiment of the students generally is for law and order.

The best-known girls’ colleges in the United States are situated in the country, and the opportunity thus given for sport and for a healthy appreciation of nature is an invaluable asset for those institutions. At no time in life is the love of beauty at once so delicate and so keen as in those years when one is eligible to college life. To foster this perhaps latent appreciation by a direct contact with the beauties of nature is one of the opportunities offered by Bryn Mawr, Vassar, Wellesley, Smith and other well-known women’s colleges.

The three or four years in college among a hundred or more other girls often form one of the happiest and most fruitful periods of a girl’s life. She makes interesting and valuable friendships. Often her knowledge of the world is broadened by visits paid to her schoolmates in vacation time. The advantages she derives from properly directed study are great; the advantages in other directions are possibly even greater. A women’s college is a little[116] world in which every variety of femininity may be observed. The life there gives opportunity for the development of the most diverse talents. Any sort of capability eventually finds scope for action in college life. The serious side and the recreative side of life find expression there. A girl who lends herself freely to the opportunities of a college should quit its doors prepared for social and domestic life and able also to take care of herself financially if exigencies require.

The comparative cost of college and boarding-school is often an important point in the matter of deciding a girl’s educational destination. The best boarding-schools are more expensive than the colleges as far as formal expenditure is concerned. A girl’s personal expenses, though they are regulated in some boarding-schools, are in college and at most boarding-schools what she and the family council choose to make them.

If college and boarding-school exercise a beneficial influence upon the development of a girl’s mind and manners, travel is a happy third in the list. Unfortunately travel is an expensive luxury. If, however, the financial circumstances of a girl’s parents are such that she may travel for six months or a year after her schooling is over, this puts the[117] finishing touch upon her educational opportunities. Travel is the easiest, the quickest and the most delightful manner of gaining knowledge in the world, while, at the same time, it is what study is not always, an encouragement to social facility.

The young girl must be educated at home as well as away from home. The foundation for such accomplishments as she has a preference for must be laid there and she must prepare there, in however slight a way, for the responsibilities that may rest upon her shoulders when she has a house of her own. For her own training, as well as the relief of her mother, every girl should assume some household duty or duties. But these, unless necessity commands, should not be severe, and occasional laxity in performance should not be dealt with harshly. Young girlhood is a growing time and a dreaming time; and a too stern insistence upon household duties sometimes blights important capabilities of mind and body.

It was an old-fashioned idea that every girl should be equipped with an accomplishment, should cultivate some definite ability to please. The idea was much abused, and resulted in the torture of many innocent persons who were compelled to look at crude sketches, to admire grotesque embroideries and to listen to mediocre performances on the piano.[118] But there was at the bottom of the idea something sound and wholesome. It is vitally important that women should please, should help to make the wheels of life go easily. That was not an ignoble epitaph discovered on an old tombstone in an English churchyard, “She was so pleasant.” Perhaps in the matter of education we are now swinging too far away from the old-fashioned ideal and are too much inclined to regard as trifling a young girl’s special efforts to please. Do we not somewhat puritanically regard the studies one does not like as necessarily more efficacious than those pursued with joy? Drawing, music, the modern languages, the art of reciting or conversation—we speak of these usually not only as secondary in importance to the study of Greek, Latin and mathematics, but as involving little in the way of labor, while the truth is that the pursuit of these subjects not only involves endless labor but a labor that in the end unveils personality and individuality, and makes for original interpretation of life to a degree far exceeding results from the so-called severer branches.

The theory is generally disseminated that those studies which give most pleasure to one’s self and to others when actually transformed into accomplishments are easy of attainment and demand only the careless and dilettante touch. The elders as well[119] as the youth are much impregnated with this idea. Let a girl understand when she begins to study drawing, the violin, the pianoforte or the art of singing that no success is possible without hard work, that the privilege of lessons will be withdrawn if she does not put effort and determination into her work, and results of a correspondingly good character may be forthcoming.

For the happiness of themselves and their friends, it is well that young girls should pursue any accomplishment toward which they may have a leaning. Certainly such a pursuit, if entered into with delicacy and vivacity, must increase the sweetness of life by adding to one’s sense of beauty; and it is never trite to say that a thing of beauty is a joy forever.

Pursuit of an accomplishment does not always mean possession, but where it does, even measurably, it means also the power of imparting pleasure to one’s friends, and pleasure that is touched upon and mingled with one’s own individuality. In a day when wealth counts for so much in relation to the bestowal of pleasure, one can scarcely overestimate for those who do not have wealth the value of the personal touch in the entertainment of one’s friends.

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CHAPTER XI
THE DÉBUTANTE

A CLEVER young girl, when asked by an acquaintance if she had “come out” yet, answered, “I didn’t come out. I just leaked out.” Doubtless this states the case, in a somewhat slangy manner, for a large number of young women who, gradually and without any set function to serve as introduction, take their places in society. Even for them, however, the year following the close of school duties marks a change in their relation to the social world, while the distinction is much emphasized in the case of young girls to whom the affairs of balls, receptions, teas and calls are a novelty. The date of a girl’s formal entrance into the larger world marks her individual recognition in that world. Before this time she has been a person without social responsibility, not accountable in the social sense. She has been considered in relation to her family, perhaps. Now she stands for herself. She is an object of some curiosity to the public, and the pleasures and duties to which she falls heir deserve some special mention.

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The age at which a girl makes her formal appearance on the scene of society varies in different places and with varying conditions. It is rarely under eighteen, seldom over twenty-two, the first being the age at which a girl not desirous of extended education escapes, usually, from the schoolroom, the second being the average age of graduation for the college girl. A girl younger than eighteen is commonly too immature to be considered an interesting member of society, and a certain degree of absurdity attaches to the idea of introducing to the world a girl older than the age last mentioned.

The special function by which a young woman’s family signalizes her entrance to society varies little in different places. In many cities the custom is for the family of the débutante and also for the friends of the family to give some entertainment in her honor. A dinner, a luncheon, a tea, a ball—any one of these festivities is a proper manner of announcing one’s interest in the new member of society and of emphasizing her arrival.

Everything should be done to facilitate for her an extension of acquaintance among those whom it is desirable she should know. It is said that a number of years ago when telephones were a luxury instead of being, as now, a necessity, in southern cities, the advent of the débutante in a house meant[122] always the addition of a name to the telephone directory. This is a somewhat extravagant and florid comment on the idea advanced. But it will serve as an illustration. Particularly is it desirable that the débutante should become acquainted with the older members of the society in which she moves. She is now not only a part of the particular set to which her age assigns her; she is also a part of that larger society to which many ages belong. Her attitude on this question distinguishes her as well-bred or ill-bred. There is nothing more crass and crude than the young girl who has no eyes or ears for anybody out of the particular set of young people to which she belongs. It is the mark of the plebeian.

The clothes of the débutante are a matter of importance and her wardrobe should be carefully planned. It is natural that she should wish to look pretty and, as youth itself makes for beauty, given good health and the usual number of features properly distributed, there is no reason why she should not so appear, if some discretion be exercised in the selection of her clothes. It does not lie within the province of this book to stipulate in detail concerning the outfit necessary for this happy result. The purpose of this paragraph is to insist on simplicity of style in the gowns chosen for a girl’s first year in society. Elaborate styles and heavy materials are[123] opposed to the quality of a young girl’s beauty. They kill the loveliness which it is their object to bring out. All her clothes should be made without perceptible elaboration. In ball gowns she should be careful to select light, diaphanous materials,—materials that she can wear at no other time of life to such advantage. Of party gowns she should have a number. Three or four frocks of thin inexpensive materials are far better, if a choice be necessary, than one heavy silk or satin. They are more becoming and the number of them guarantees to their owner perfect freshness and daintiness of appearance. A soiled, bedraggled ball gown is a sorry sight on anybody. It looks particularly ill on a young person whose age entitles her to be compared to lilies and roses.

If the truth be told, despite the gaiety and the novelty of a girl’s first year in society, it is not usually so pleasant a year as her second. She has much to learn, and it is the exceptional girl who does not feel a little awkward in her new position. She is prone to exaggerate the importance of small social blunders, and trifles, light as air, occupy a disproportionate place in her horizon. A certain timidity, the result of her unaccustomed position, is characteristic of her. This timidity shows itself either in a stiffness that modifies considerably her proper[124] charm, or in an unnatural bravado of manner, the reverse of pleasing. “Why are you so down on débutantes?”—the writer of this chapter asked of an accomplished young society man. “Because they think it’s clever to be rude,” was the answer. The desire to be very apt, to be “on the spot” and “all there,” as the slang phrase has it,—this is often at the bottom of the apparent rudeness of the young girl. She does not care to show her newness. As a bride wishes it to seem that she has always been married, so a débutante likes to present the appearance of thorough familiarity with the ground upon which she has just arrived.

Nothing will assist the débutante to self-control and a surer footing so much as contact with people who are somewhat older than herself and who have gained a proper perspective. From them she will learn to be less self-conscious, and this means to be happier and more interesting.

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CHAPTER XII
MEN AND WOMEN

THERE is some difference of opinion as to whether properly a man should ask permission to call upon a woman or the woman should confer the favor of her own volition. Sometimes this depends on the age of the woman under consideration. The invitation to call of a mature woman of society is the bestowal of a social favor in a sense different from the same request coming from a young girl. A young girl must be very sure indeed that a man would feel flattered by her invitation before she asks him to call. It is usually safe to assume that, if he does wish the acquaintance to go further than chance meetings, he will find a way to make it known to her, thus saving her the embarrassment of taking the initiative.

The time for making calls upon young women varies in different parts of the country. In the larger cities of the East the conventional time is between four and seven o’clock in the afternoon.[126] In smaller towns of the East and in most southern and western places, evening calls are the mode. When the acquaintance between the young man and the young woman in question is slight, a call of half an hour is considered a proper length. When the acquaintance has mellowed into friendship, the length of the call is not prescribed. A sense of propriety will suggest to both when it should come to an end.

If a servant is in waiting when the caller arrives, this domestic should take care of the young man’s hat, coat and stick, or should designate where the caller may place these things. If the young woman herself should chance to open the door, she must designate where he is “to rest his wraps,” as the negroes say. She must not, on any account, assist him in ridding himself of these articles, nor, later, when he leaves, aid him in getting them together. Nice but socially uninstructed girls lay themselves open to severe criticism through exactly such mistaken actions.

If the call is a first call, the young man should be presented to the girl’s mother, and if the girl chooses, to other members of the family. In succeeding calls, according to conventional usage in America, it is merely a happen-so whether members of the young woman’s family are present or not.

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One can prescribe no rule as to what young men and young women should talk about. The subjects they may discuss are as numerous as the sands of the sea, and depend upon taste, temperament and education.

As to manner, it is well to insist a little, in these days of brusk camaraderie between the sexes, on the fact that courtesy has many charming opportunities of exhibition in the conversation between men and women. There is a kind of deference that, with no lack of frankness, should be cultivated in the attitude of one sex to the other, a quality that makes for agreeable friendship to a rare degree. If one selects this rather than other agreeable qualities of manner as one to be cultivated in the relation of the sexes, it is because it is one so often neglected.

When a young woman and young man have grown up in the same place and have known each other from childhood, it is proper for them to call each other by their first names, but with acquaintances of maturer years, the occasions for the adoption of this custom should be rare. Nothing is more vulgar for a young woman than an easy and promiscuous habit of addressing Tom, Dick and Harry as such.

A girl should not accept an invitation from a[128] young man before he has called and has been presented to her mother. The invitation once accepted, there are little courtesies which he may pay to her on the occasion of the festivity for which he has asked to accompany her. These courtesies he should not neglect to offer, and she should be gracious in accepting. He may assist her in putting on her wraps. He may put on her overshoes if the weather is damp and a maid be lacking for that purpose. If an extra wrap is demanded he should carry it for her.

In going up-stairs, the girl precedes the man, but in descending, he goes first. In the street a man who is punctilious walks on the outside of the walk, but this rule is less observed than it was formerly. Of course, a man allows a girl to precede him through any doorway. In leaving a street-car, however, he gets off first in order that he may help her alight.

It is the duty of a young woman’s escort to be looking after her pleasure and comfort in various ways. If he takes her to a dance, he must see, if possible, that her card is filled. If it is not filled, he should sit out with her the unclaimed dances. Ordinarily, a girl does not cross a ballroom unless accompanied by her escort or her chaperon.

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If a man takes a girl to the theater he should procure a program for her and should assist her in the removal of her wraps. Whenever accidentally or by arrangement, a man accompanies a woman he should not permit her to carry a package, umbrella or wrap, unless the latter be a light summer wrap which she may prefer to retain. The various opportunities offered men for small services, for little gallantries of conduct, can not be registered in detail. They are too many. It is sufficient to say that young women should encourage men in such amiable habits. Favors of the sort indicated are without cost and yet beyond price. If accepted graciously they react on manners to the advantage of both sexes. They help to make of society the pleasing spectacle which we imagine it to be in our dreams.

Young women who are guests at a box party should sit in the front seats with the men behind them. The writer was witness during the current year of a small-town box party straggling into a city theater, where each girl was awkwardly ranged alongside of her escort. The clumsy unsophisticated air of the party, each Jack beside his Jill, needs no comment.

A young girl should not grant a request for an[130] interchange of letters with a young man without consulting her mother. A young woman should remember in writing to a young man that written words are not like spoken ones and are far more capable of misinterpretation. Though prudence is not a generous quality, it is one to be observed in all letter-writing but that arising out of the most intimate relations.

The subject of letter-writing suggests the miniature accomplishment of note-writing. The art of brief sprightly expression on paper is one that is worth striving for. It is capable of yielding pleasure in many of the relations of life, in none more conspicuously than in the relation between young men and young women. A military man of some distinction was interviewing the lady principal of a girls’ school with reference to placing his daughter there. “What would you like to have her taught?” said the principal. “Some history;” he said meditatively, “an appreciation of good literature, and the art of writing as agreeable a note as her mother did before her.”

A young woman should hesitate to isolate herself from general society by accepting too great an amount of attention from any one man unless she intends to marry him. As long as she is in doubt[131] on this head she has, prudery to the contrary, a right to accept the usual attentions from those men whom she likes. If she is so imprudent as to shut herself off from general companionship before she has reached a decision as to marriage and then decide in the negative, she is likely to suffer for her imprudence. By a ludicrous chance dependent upon the relation of the sexes, the man in the case, if he cares to reenter society, regains it much more easily than she. He can go about and take up dropped threads while she is waiting at home for callers who do not arrive. He is welcomed back with enthusiasm by the girls who thought him lost forever, while her recent avoidance of general society is counted against her.

When a young man finds his affections engaged he should formally ask the girl’s father for her hand and should state his financial condition. This rule of an older civilization than ours is much ridiculed in many sections of our country; and it is true that there are instances where it would not apply, where, for reasons, the young man should make his initial plea to the girl herself. But, generally speaking, the custom is to be commended. A young man may well suppose that a girl’s father will have her best interests at heart. If the young man is serious in his[132] desire for her happiness he will have the courage to ask her of one of the two persons to whom she is dearest.

The whole matter of acquaintance between young men and young women is one of supreme importance in that it may lead to results of supreme importance. In view of this fact it is amazing that parents and guardians so often leave this matter to the action of chance, that they do not feel the wisdom of exercising a guiding hand in the choice of associates for the young people under their care. We have a prejudice against the European custom of social espionage over the young. But it is safe to assume that if we had more of such espionage sentimental disasters would not be so frequent as they now are, and more true and lasting friendships between young men and young women would be formed. The older members of the household should take a part in creating the social atmosphere in which their children move. They should cultivate the friendship and acquaintance of young people so that they may be able the more easily and wisely to exert an influence in the right direction. Only the opinion and taste of the person most concerned should be final and decisive in the matter of personal relations, but persuasion and direction are mighty forces to be employed. Especially should parents of attractive young women make it their[133] business to know something about the young men who frequent the house. Said a father of five well-married young women: “I made it a rule in my daughters’ girlhood to allow no young man the entrée to my house who was not eligible in the sense of character and breeding.” It is true that youth and age will not always agree on the qualities of desirable companionship, and it is also true that in these disagreements age is sometimes wrong and youth is right; but this does not interfere with the truth of the statement that maturity should give to youth all the help possible in the frequently momentous choice of friends, particularly of those belonging to the opposite sex.

It is customary, shortly before a wedding, for a girl to give a farewell luncheon to her intimate girl friends, including her bridesmaids, and for a man to entertain his ushers at a dinner or supper party.

It is expected at parties that the gentlemen present will attend on the ladies, in the old-fashioned word “wait” on them. Yet at many such affairs one sees the men congregated in the hall, eating their salads and ices, while the women are ungallantly left to themselves. Servants may supply them with refreshments if the hostess has so planned, but the attendance is required just the same.

A well-bred man will not in general society make[134] a marked distinction in the courtesy he shows to a woman who is unusually attractive and her companion who is less fortunate. He will ask the plainer woman to dance and will see that she has ices, and he may find, after all, some unexpected reward in a quality of hidden charm beneath the unpromising exterior. Generosity in social situations is a severe test of character and for that reason it is seen less often than one would wish. The man who joins a woman sitting conspicuously alone and devotes himself to her entertainment if for only a quarter of an hour deserves all the warm unspoken gratitude that is sure to be felt by the woman.

A girl should be careful not to mistake the merely polite attentions of a man for the advances of a lover. Men are afraid of such a girl because of the embarrassments that ensue, while they feel “safe” with a sensible one who can be friendly without becoming sentimental and who does not view every man she dances with as a possible husband.

A woman who is invited by a man to take luncheon with him at his club will find a side entrance reserved for the use of ladies, and a parlor where she may be joined by her escort.

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When a man is saying good-by to a group of ladies, he should, on leaving the room, turn his back as little as possible.

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CHAPTER XIII
COEDUCATION SOCIALLY CONSIDERED

THE idea of coeducation is a peculiarly American idea. Perhaps nowhere else in the world do such large bodies of young men and young women meet together for purposes of study and, at the same time, enjoy together such social freedom as is the case in the coeducational institutions of the United States. One may question the wisdom of the coeducational idea, but as to its popularity there can be no doubt. Coeducation is not only with us, but, if indications are correct, it has come to stay.

Its opponents say that men and women do not work together so well as apart, that the distraction of sex in coeducational institutions is such as to prevent both men and women from making the highest intellectual effort in their power. The advocates of the system contend that the contact of the sexes in school is a source of improvement to the manners of both, that it makes young men more courteous and young women less sentimental. The[137] friends of the movement also say that men and women are stimulated to their best endeavor by the presence of the opposite sex; and that, as the masculine and the feminine intellects differ, one being complementary to the other, so men and women, studying together, gain a rounded conception of the subject in hand not possible otherwise.

This article is not concerned with the pros and cons of the argument, only with the questions suggested by the freedom and facility with which young people meet one another in coeducational schools. It is easy to say that the usual social conventions should be observed, as of course they should; but it is not hard to see that the somewhat informal conditions under which young people meet in these institutions, make a strict adherence to the code a matter of difficulty. Eighteen is the average age at which young people enter college. They are scarcely men and women, yet they are too old for schoolboy and girl pranks, in which, however, they often feel tempted to indulge. Many young men and young women start to college without social experience. They may belong to good families whose essential ideals of conduct are stanch and fine, but to families in which hard work and financial stress have crowded out the knowledge and practise of social amenities. The youth of[138] the students concerned, the inexperience of many, the variety in previous training and inheritance make the question of social relations much more complicated than it would be in the towns or cities from which the various students come and where each one belongs by custom and birth to a well-defined circle of friends.

A golden piece of advice for those entering college, though one not easy to follow, is: “Be slow in forming your friendships.” The friendships you make with the members of your own sex influence decidedly your friendships with the other and both should be entered into with deliberation. Better be somewhat lonely in the beginning of college life than precipitate relations with those whom you may later come to distrust. Let a young woman wait, take time to survey the situation coolly and dispassionately, before she decides which one, if any, of the Greek societies which solicit her attention she will enter. Do not let her be carried away by the “rushing,” the spreads, the flatteries, the flowers that may be used to influence her decision. She will be all the more valued by the sorority that gets her if she holds off a little until her own mind and judgment have rendered an answer to invitation. And, in the same relative situation, the same word of warning applies to[139] young men. It is in place here to say in regard to the Greek societies that the pleasure and profit derived by the members from such membership should not lead them to a selfish disregard of those outside. The tendency to work only for one’s fraternity or sorority and to find fellowship or friendship nowhere else is recognized as a narrowing influence in these organizations.

Each college, coeducational or otherwise, has its local etiquette that has risen out of its history. Certain things can be done by seniors, for instance, that would not be tolerated in freshmen; certain other things that have no reference to the general rules of society are barred because of a collegiate caprice that has been transformed into law. With this unwritten but binding etiquette the student soon becomes acquainted. If he runs counter to it, he is brought up sharply and made to realize the penalty. The etiquette of common sense, which should guide the relations between young men and women, is of another sort and, owing to the exigencies of the case, must largely be expressed by negative admonitions. The first of these is, do not feel that absence from home gives you privileges to do what you would not do at home. The word “lark” is an enticing one, but young men and young women do not indulge in “larks” together without paying up. Anything that involves secrecy in the[140] good times of young men and young women away at school should be avoided.

The frequency with which young people of two sexes meet one another in coeducational schools leads them easily into the habit of calling each other by their first names, and into the worse one of adopting nicknames. The advice of Punch is in place. Don’t. Friendship does not mean familiarity. Indeed familiarity is its greatest foe. When a young girl allows a young man to call her by her first name, unless engaged to him, she cheapens his regard for her by just so much.

It often happens that the dormitories or boarding-houses where students live do not afford attractive reception rooms. A young woman shrinks from receiving calls from her young men acquaintances in ugly surroundings and in a room filled perhaps with uncongenial girls or those indifferent to her. It is not improper, under these circumstances, that she should see her men friends elsewhere,—at the college library, at the house of some married friend or in the course of a walk planned beforehand. But it is in wretched taste for her to loiter on the streets with a young man, to stop on corners for talk, to walk back and forth repeatedly from college to boarding-place in his company. Again good sense says, “Don’t.”

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Exchanging photographs is regarded as one of the special privileges of college life. It would be interesting to know how large a per cent. of the income made by photographers in the United States comes from college students. The exchange of photographs between young men and young women in the same class in college is allowable. Such exchange is, in a sense, official and impersonal, and is warranted by that fact. When a young woman bestows her photograph under such circumstances she should write upon it the name of the college and the date of the class. This will indicate clearly that the giving is not a matter of sentiment. The promiscuous exchange of photographs between young men and young women at college is bad. Only a brother or a lover or an old friend should be the recipient of a young woman’s likeness. There is something too intimate about such a gift to make it an object of general distribution.

One more “Don’t” occurs to the writer as applicable to the relations of young men and women as fellow students. Don’t use the college slang or jargon when you talk together. If it is impossible to keep it altogether out of the talk, use as little of it as possible. Men students may carry on conversation through this medium and it is sometimes very funny, but it was not intended for feminine[142] purposes. It is disgusting to hear a young man speak to a young woman in the terms he would use in addressing his chum. On the other hand it is the attempted mannishness of tone popular with some women students that prejudices many worthy people against coeducational schools. The use of college slang outside the boundaries of college life is bad form even for a man, and gives a provincial tone to his talk.

The opportunities for special festivities are many in coeducational life, and there is a strong temptation to overdo on the social side. Class dances and receptions, fraternity and sorority parties, commencement gaieties offer frequent allurement. A student, woman or man, should sift out this matter of recreation in his own mind and should determine how much pleasure of this kind he can afford financially and without detriment to his health or his class standing. Some social diversion he needs. To develop on the mental side only is a mistake. Too much diversion is a far more serious mistake.

It goes without saying that, at the parties given by students, there should be proper chaperonage. This is particularly necessary in entertainments, often quite elaborate in character, given in chapter houses of the fraternities. The fact that young[143] men are hosts to the young women on such occasions makes it the more necessary that chaperons should be numerous and not too vivacious in character.

There should be in every coeducational school a dean of women. The duties of such a position include regulation, as far as possible, of social relations between the young men and young women of the institution as well as actual instruction, if necessary, on the more important matters of social etiquette. In this official, young girls of the institution should find a friend to whom they may go for advice on vexed questions. Where there is no formal office of the kind named, the service indicated may sometimes be rendered by women members of the faculty. Some years ago, in a western town, the Chair of English Literature was occupied by a woman who took upon herself the burden of improving the manners of the student body, largely composed of sturdy young farmers and girls from country towns. Once a year in the college chapel, she gave a lecture on this subject in which she stated plainly what she thought necessary for the social improvement of the school. Many a young man was helped over awkward places by her advice; many a young woman saved from some[144] escapade which she might have blushed later to own. The value of such instruction is inestimable.

When opportunity offers for consultation with such a guide and teacher, the uninstructed student should avail himself of it. When such a privilege is not procurable, one’s own sense of propriety, if diligently sought for and obeyed, will often lead one out of an awkward situation for which one does not know the formal rule.

Many parents who intend to send their daughters to women’s colleges allow them to take a preparatory course in a coeducational high school. The best high schools of that character now take the very important precaution of hiring a dean, whose duty it is especially to watch over the girl students. High-school sororities and all secret organizations are frowned on if not positively prohibited in these schools, as it has been demonstrated that they interfere with proper attention to studies and lead to many undesirable relationships. Class hops and receptions suitably chaperoned furnish sufficient diversion. One hopes that one of the results of the appointing of deans in the high schools will be a change in the manner of dressing of many high-school girls. It is too often both inartistic and in bad taste. A schoolgirl should be dressed prettily, but in a quiet and appropriate way.

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CHAPTER XIV
THE CHAPERON

IN some parts of America the chaperon is, like Sairey Gamp’s interesting friend, “Mrs. Harris,”—a mere figment of the imagination. Nowhere in America does she occupy the perfectly defined position that she holds in Europe; nowhere in America are her duties so arduous as those imposed on her in older countries. The idea that a chaperon for young people is necessary on all occasions offends the taste of the American. It is even opposed to his code of good manners. That a young woman should never be able in her father’s house to receive, without a guardian, the young men of her acquaintance, is alien to the average American’s ideal of good breeding and of independence in friendship. In addition, his sense of humor sets down constant attendance on the very young as a bore and wearisome in the extreme.

A young business or professional woman dispenses with any protection except that afforded her[146] by her work itself. Some years ago a young southern woman, forced to earn her living, and who had become a reporter in Washington, made herself absurd by taking a duenna with her whenever she went out to gather news. Perhaps it is unnecessary to say that no girl can afford to call on a man at his office except on an errand of business or charity.

Because of these prejudices current concerning the idea of chaperonage, because of this mode of considering the subject, characteristically American, it is all the more necessary that the line should be sharply drawn as to the occasions where the consensus of usage and good sense declares a chaperon to be indispensable. The sense of the best American conventionalities, broadly speaking, is that a young woman may have greater liberty in her father’s house than elsewhere. A young man who frequents a house for the purpose of calling on a young woman should be on terms with the members of her family, but it is not taken for granted that he must spend every minute of his visits in their presence, or that the young woman should feel that she is acting unconventionally in receiving his calls by herself. It is unconventional, however, for her to take with him long evening drives without a chaperon, or to go on any sort of prolonged outdoor excursion, be the party large or small, without[147] a chaperon. Driving parties, fishing parties, country-club parties, sailing parties, picnics of every kind,—here the chaperon is indispensable. No one can tell what accidents or delays may occur at festivities of this kind that might render a prolonged absence embarrassing and awkward without the chaperon.

Any married woman may act as chaperon. “Young and twenty” may chaperon “fat and forty” if the former has the prefix “Mrs.” before her name and the latter is still of the “Miss” period. It is often very amusing to hear young matrons talk of their experience in chaperoning their elders. The office is one that the newly married woman likes to assume both because of its privileges and because it seems to emphasize her new dignities.

In consequence of the fact that the frivolous and light-minded young married woman is quite as apt to be called upon to fill the office of chaperon as a person of more responsible qualities, the duties of this position are often less considered than its advantages. To some extent the duties and the privileges melt together, but not entirely. When, for instance, a bachelor, or a married man whose wife is out of town, entertains young unmarried people with a theater party and a supper afterward at restaurant or club, and asks a married woman[148] of his acquaintance to act as chaperon, he expects to pay her more attention and courtesy than he will give to other guests, while at the same time expecting from her an assumption of some of the duties of hostess for the occasion. He may send her flowers if he chooses. She must have the seat of honor in the front of the box engaged at the theater and, later, the seat of honor at the supper party.

In return she must exercise her power of pleasing generally and not for the benefit only of the two or three of the party whom she likes best. Her surveillance of the company is, of course, merely nominal. It is taken for granted in civilized society that young people will behave properly. A chaperon is merely the official sign that the proprieties are observed. She is not an instructress and is not likely to be asked to fill the position of chaperon more than once if she assumes to be. Her presence prevents embarrassment and embarrassing situations. It should also act upon the guests as an amalgamating agent. At a party of the description given, her business is to mix agreeably the different elements of the company.

The duties and privileges of acting as chaperon, in such circumstances, are of so pleasant a kind that the office is a coveted one. Attractive women are much more apt to be asked to fill the position[149] than unattractive ones, except when a chaperon is regarded simply as an offering on the altar of propriety.

Generally speaking, the duties of a chaperon are somewhat various, and more or less arduous, according to the quality of those chaperoned. These duties depend so largely upon circumstances that they are not easily classified. It is, of course, the part of the chaperon to smooth over awkward situations, to arrange and make smooth the path of pleasure. It is the duty of the chaperoned to agree without demur to whatever the chaperon may suggest. On any debatable point her decision must be regarded as final.

A personal and individual chaperon for every young girl is not necessary at a ball. It is expedient, however, that there should be some one present who, on demand, can act in that capacity for her,—some married woman with whom she may sit out a dance, if she be not provided with a partner, or whom she may consult in any of the small difficulties possible to the occasion. If a young woman attend a ball in company with her mother or some other matron, she should return each time, after a dance, to the seat occupied by her chaperon and should direct her several partners to find her there. In case she dances with any one unknown[150] to her chaperon, it goes perhaps without saying that the man in the case should be presented properly to the friend in charge of her.

The question as to whether a young man must ask the services of a chaperon when he invites one young woman to accompany him to the theater is answered differently in different parts of the country. In the East a man who asks a young woman to go with him to the opera or the play, often invites her mother or some feminine married friend to accompany them. In the West this usage is not so common. Those who do not observe it are not regarded as outside the pale of good form.

In the case of outdoor excursions the chaperon should fix the hour of departure to and from the place of festivity; she should group the guests for the journey there and back, and should designate their positions at the table if a meal or refreshments be served. The duty of the chaperoned, is, in return, to make the position of chaperon as agreeable as possible, to defer to her in every way. The favor, in the case of chaperonage, is conferred by the chaperon, though the actions of certain crude young people are no recognition of this fact. A case in point occurs to the writer where a young man and his wife were asked to chaperon a party[151] of young people to a popular rendezvous twelve or fourteen miles from the city in which they lived. The married people, after much urging, consented with some reluctance, thereby sacrificing a cherished plan of their own. Going and coming they were asked to take the back seat, which they occupied by themselves,—a seat over the wheels of the large vehicle provided. During the country supper they sat at one end of the table where their presence was conversationally ignored. When the time came for returning home the married man was approached by one of the originators of the party, who said that the affair was a “Dutch treat,” and would he (the married man) please pay his share of the bill. This is, of course, an extraordinary case, but in a gross way it illustrates the lack of consideration often incident to the relation between chaperon and chaperoned. That the obligation to the chaperon should be properly recognized is an important part of social training.

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CHAPTER XV
THE MATTER OF DRESS

TO be comfortably and becomingly clothed is an acknowledged aspiration of most women and many men. The time to be ashamed of such an aspiration is now happily gone by with some other detrimental puritanical notions, and we cheerfully give ourselves to the love of pretty things for personal adornment as we do to beauty in other directions. That too much time may be spent in the thought about, and selection of, clothes is true, also that extravagance of expenditure and other vices are the price of such vanity. On the other hand, it is as true, though not so directly and obviously so, that a lack of attention to dress leads equally to disaster. The badly-gowned woman is apt to be self-conscious, not in possession of her best self; and too often she carries the thought of dress exactly to the place where her mind should be free of such reflections. One should not wear more than one can successfully “carry off.” Care about the details of dress should be left behind when[153] one goes visiting or appears anywhere in public. If one’s toilet has been thought out and attended to properly before leaving home, one’s mind is then free for the entertainment of other subjects. If this important matter is suggested to one only by the unhappy contrast between one’s appearance and that of the people about one, then unless one is possessed of a particularly strong mind, the pleasure of the occasion in question is nullified, the possible profit to be derived from it is cut off.

Self-consciousness does away with the easy use of one’s faculties and renders them stiff and unpliable. Trim appropriate clothing has a tendency to make the wearer happy and is an encouragement to a comfortable and lively temper of mind. I remember hearing a humorous old clergyman say that he was frequently called upon to endure the recital of her miseries from a very untidy woman of his congregation and to prescribe advice therefor. At last with him truth came to the surface, and a thought that had long lain dormant in his mind found expression on the final occasion of her request for counsel from him. “Madam,” he said, “I believe you would be a much happier woman if you combed your hair becomingly and put on a fresh gown oftener.” The matter of dress is at once a serious and, to a beauty-loving temperament,[154] a charming consideration. To some extent it has to do with character and much to do with happiness. Some moralists to the contrary notwithstanding, the becomingness or the unbecomingness of what one wears reacts upon the wearer and makes her distrustful or confident, timid or courageous, and this in a not unworthy sense.

If the subject of dress is important, the consideration we give to it should be of a correspondingly dignified and orderly character. There is a happy medium between spending too much and too little time on the thought of what we wear. At regular periods, say at least twice a year, the matter should be taken up with some care, the needs of one’s wardrobe investigated, the amount of money at one’s disposal for such purposes be determined upon.

If one’s purse is so large that the question is only one of purchase, of consulting good outfitters and dressmakers, there is still room for neat and methodical management. If one’s purse is small, orderly and businesslike management is a necessity. One should study one’s appearance and find out for one’s self what colors, what tendencies in fashion are becoming to one, and resolutely strike others off the list. Reason, not fancy, nor altogether fashion,[155] should guide one in the choice of fabrics and tints. One’s manner of life should be considered in the selection of gowns, and the appropriate thing picked out for the anticipated occasion. A train on the street, velvet in the morning, no matter what may seem to be worn by extremists, could never be in taste. Veils that are so heavy as to seem disguises or so ornamented that they give the wearer, at a little distance, the appearance of having a skin disease, should be left to the women who wish to startle.

The most important gown to be taken into account is the street gown, the garb in which one appears every day and before the largest number of people. That one should look well all the days of the week is more important and convincing than that one should look well for the particular and infrequent occasion. If one must choose between a good day-in-and-day-out gown and one of a more elaborate and decorative description, the preference should be given to the tailor or street gown. One would better invest in a cloth costume of good material and cut, and wear this unchanged through more than one season than indulge in two or three of cheaper mold that reflect unsteadily the passing mode. This gown may serve not only for street but, with various waists, may develop other uses[156] than that of outdoor wear. The changes possible in accessories will make it available for calls, teas, afternoon receptions and the theater.

Many women who dress fairly well in summer and in winter, fail to provide themselves with suitable attire for the intervening seasons. Spring finds them with only a fur-trimmed cloak, and in early fall they are still wearing thin midsummer frocks. In our changeable climate, clothing of various weights is absolutely necessary to make a good appearance. All fur coats are seldom suitable, and for this reason should be left for those who can buy as many garments as they choose. Good separate furs are a much wiser investment for a woman of limited means. White kid gloves for marketing and shopping, even if one can afford them, are out of taste because out of place.

For a woman who goes to balls and dinners, however infrequently, a good low-cut gown of some description is indispensable. Women who have lived quiet provincial lives and are called upon to grace a wider social sphere are not always aware of this. They provide themselves with appropriate gowns of other descriptions, but they feel afraid of the gown made especially for evening wear. They have a foolish fear sometimes of trying,[157] by this means, to look younger than they are or of making themselves conspicuous in the wearing of such a frock. Conspicuousness lies in the other direction. Full dress is the proper wear for metropolitan entertainments after six o’clock in the evening, and full dress means a dress coat for a man and a low-cut frock of appropriate material for a woman. Avoidance of embarrassment means the adoption of this conventional wear. A woman who has reached an age when her neck has begun to wither in front is not, however, an object of beauty when décolleté. She will do well to wear a jeweled collar or a band of velvet or tulle.

To the indispensable items just mentioned may be added theater gowns, dinner gowns, ball gowns, outing costumes, tea gowns, negligees,—a bewildering variety of attire suited not only to every feminine need but answering to every feminine caprice. Few words are necessary to those women whose purse is equal to the purchase of all the feminine fripperies dear to a woman’s heart. Dealers and experienced modistes are always at hand to offer serviceable advice to those who have the wherewithal to pay for it, though one should not take, without weighing it, even the best advice of this sort. Try to be intelligent about your clothes and to show a little individuality. Only this bit of counsel is perhaps in season to those who may have measurably[158] what they choose in the way of wearing apparel. Preserve some sort of equality between the different items of your toilet. Do not have a splendid theater gown and a shabby negligee. Do not wear fine furs over an inferior street gown. Do not wear heavy street boots with a velvet evening gown. Arrange the articles of your wardrobe so that they bear some sort of happy relation to one another, so that one article may not be ashamed to be found in the company of any other, so that your clothes may seem to be the harmonious possession of one person, not the happen-so belongings of a half-dozen varying temperaments.

There are persons,—we all know them,—whose happy attire is always calling forth some such remark as,—“That looks precisely like her,” or “She and the gown were made for each other.” This sort of relation between person and wardrobe is the most charming outcome possible to the consideration of personal adornment. It gives dignity and distinct esthetic value to the subject of clothes. Let us have no more red on blondes, and let over-stout women leave plaids and checks alone. Thin girls should wear frills and leave plain-tailored clothes to plumpness. With the woman of means, this harmony need not be, though it often is, occasional. It may be constant and if she is a person of esthetic temperament[159] she may gain from this happy relation between herself and her clothes a soul-satisfying sense of bliss not to be gained from any other source in the world. Over-dressing is, of course, avoided by women of taste.

Many women who have little to spend put nearly the lump sum into gowns. This is a mistake of the gravest sort. The effect of the prettiest gown may be spoiled by an ill-fitting corset, by gloves that are no longer fresh and by shoes that are not trim and suitable to the occasion. White gloves should be white, and white shoes likewise, or they should not be worn. The proper accessories of dress, among which are veils, belts, ruchings and collars, often give to an otherwise plain costume, the effect of something chic and telling.

Becoming head-gear is of the utmost importance. “A hat,” said an apt society woman of the writer’s acquaintance, “should bear the same relation to other parts of one’s costume that the title of a story does to the story itself. This article of dress should be at once the key and the consummation of the effect intended.” The fashion in hats varies with great rapidity from year to year, and one should be careful to avoid the extremes of style. Only a face of great beauty can stand the precipitous, fantastic slants and curves that mark the ultra fashionable[160] in millinery. If one is so fortunate as to find sometime a shape that is decidedly becoming, one should follow through life its general outline with modifications sufficient to conform in a general way to passing modes. Form the habit of putting your hats on from the back, thus pushing the loose hair about the face slightly forward. The plainest face is softened and beautified by a fluffy arrangement of the hair about the temple. Nothing is more fatal to good looks than a high bald forehead. Many women make a fatal mistake in their preference for big hats. The picture-hat is only suited to the large and picturesque type. Large hats make little women look like mushrooms, and frequently they take away all distinction and individuality from the face beneath.

Many a charming costume is spoiled by a failure to realize that the feet must be dressed in harmony with the rest of the costume. Too many women, otherwise attractive in appearance, wear shoes with scuffed toes and run-down heels, the latter due to a bad habit of turning the foot over in walking. This can be corrected easily by having the shoe built up at the sole on the opposite side by the insertion of a piece of thick leather, which any shoe-mender will do very cheaply. One is then forced to use the foot properly.

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Women otherwise tasteful in dress are often careless and unthoughtful in the jewels they wear. In gowns and millinery they would not think of wearing colors that clash and fight, yet they do not establish a correspondence between clothes and jewels worn, between trinkets and the quality of personal appearance. They wear the contents of their jewel-boxes irrespective of suitability, indifferent as to season of night or day. A profusion of jewels, or the wearing of various and hostile stones at one time, is to be avoided as the pestilence. A jewel, like a fine picture, needs background, space to show it off. In the company of many other jewels it loses identity and distinction, and fails in conferring these qualities upon the wearer. In choosing precious stones it is a good rule to establish some sort of relation between their color and the eyes of the wearer. Turquoise intensifies the hue of blue eyes, topaz that of brown ones, and emeralds are particularly becoming to women whose eyes have a greenish tinge.

Color is so important an element of success in every department of dress that its study should be a part of the education of every woman who wishes to be well gowned. The correspondence between the color of the gown and the appearance of the person who is to wear it is of more importance than the quality of the texture employed. Hue and fit[162] make for becomingness to a greater extent than elegance in material, though the latter is also an element of beauty in an all-round conception of the subject. A feeling for textures is rare, but it may be cultivated, and the effort to do this is worth making.

Some women who are timid as to their ability to combine colors and tones, plunge into black as a safe refuge or adopt a standard color which they regard as “safe” for all occasions. This is a poor way out of the difficulty. Resolute study and a little experimenting will yield better results and an agreeable variety. A woman should study her “points” in the light of day before a full-length mirror, and once she has really learned what becomes her she should allow no milliner or modiste to coax her into “the latest cry.” There is no such thing as the “tyranny of fashion” for the woman who dresses intelligently. She will never be either in or out of the mode.

Neatness is unquestionably an element of that indefinable thing we call style, though many women who are neat are not modish. Neatness is the integrity of dress, the essential foundation to which all good things may be added. To a woman whose love for dress is allied to the thirst for perfection in that branch, untidiness is more than distasteful. If “extra” hair must be worn, it should be moderate[163] in quantity, of the best quality and most skilfully arranged. Face powder, carelessly put on, makes a woman look ridiculous. An open placket is viewed by a fastidious woman as something like disgrace. Broken shoe-laces, gaps between belt and skirt, soiled neckwear, crookedness in the arrangement of gowns and other evidences of careless dressing are abhorrent to her. Neatness, freshness and suitability in the wardrobe are more important items than elaboration and cost. The person who suggests these desirable qualities in the manner of her attire, whether she has a large or a small amount of money to be expended in clothes, is sure to present an agreeable appearance. If to these qualities she adds a scent for novelty and style, she may hope to be, as far as clothes are concerned, “very smart indeed.” If beyond this she have the artist’s gift, she may make herself better than “smart,” she may be beautiful.

One minor point: the handkerchief, when not in actual use, should be invisible. It is a concession to nature, and to carry it in the hand, tuck it in the belt or up the sleeve is provincial. A muff or a party bag of dainty texture may serve to hide it in lieu of a pocket.

At women’s parties in this country one sees a variety of costumes not all suited to the occasion.[164] The hostess at a luncheon may wear a white lingerie dress, one of her guests will be in a shirt-waist costume, a second in white satin and the rest in quiet silks or in elegant chiffon waists and cloth or velvet skirts. The picture is spoiled by this haphazard dressing. The majority were correctly attired but the shirt-waist and the white satin were equally wrong. The hostess who knows that any one of her guests may be compelled to dress with exceptional plainness will help to make that person comfortable by wearing a quiet gown herself. Except at very intimate affairs it is wiser, however, to decline an invitation than to make an embarrassingly poor appearance.

At afternoon receptions one often sees the hostess and her assistants in elaborate gowns, while many of the callers are in tailored street costume. This again spoils the picture. If a woman expects to attend afternoon affairs she should have an afternoon gown.

Highly polished finger-nails of a length to suggest claws, are bad form though one sees them on women who ought to know better. The nails should be carefully filed—not trimmed—to a shape only slightly pointed, they should show the pretty half-moon at the base and may bear a slight polish but no artificial coloring. To keep the half-moon plainly[165] visible, gently push back the scarf-skin at the base of the nail daily with an orange-wood stick. A little cold cream rubbed in nightly around the edges of the nails is a great help. No sharp instrument should ever be used to clean the nails. The orange-wood sticks are best adapted to this purpose. Peroxide will remove stains.

Suède gloves are softer in appearance and more elegant than the glacé ones, but as they soil more quickly and clean less readily they should not be attempted by women of limited means. A delicately colored glove is more artistic with many costumes than a pure white one, but here again practicability must be counted, as the light-colored glove will seldom clean well and the white one does. A woman who must carefully consider the cost of her dressing will, if she is clever, plan mezzo-tinted costumes which are artistic and becoming and which do not demand light or white gloves.

Transparent blouses that display the under-clothing are bad form. If very sheer material is used, a special slip should be worn under the blouse. Very thin hose are equally objectionable. Perfume of any sort is now taboo beyond the elusive scent of lavender or violet sachets in one’s dresser drawers, or a dash of toilet water in the bath.

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One’s dress at church should invariably be quiet. This is prescribed not only by taste but by consideration for others who may be present and who may be of more limited means. A church is of all places the one in which to avoid exciting envy by costly apparel.

One of the mistaken ideas held by women who are just becoming sensitive to effects in dress is that everything should match. The result in such cases if not positively bad is usually dull and monotonous. The woman who wears with her blue suit a blue hat with a blue feather and a blue veil, a blue waist and blue gloves and shoes, is a nightmare. A black hat, an écru veil, gray gloves perhaps—in these ways relief and variety must be obtained. In choosing colors, the skin, hair and eyes should all be considered. It is an exploded idea that brunettes should cling to brown. Much depends on the complexion.

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CHAPTER XVI
MAKING AND RECEIVING GIFTS

WEDDING gifts may be sent any time after the wedding cards are issued. They are sent to the bride, and may be as expensive and elaborate, or as simple and inexpensive, as the means of the sender make proper. An invitation to a church wedding, and not to the reception, precludes the necessity of making a wedding-present. Indeed the matter of wedding-presents admits of more freedom each year and many people make it a rule to send gifts only to intimate friends and relatives. Perhaps this state of affairs has been brought about by the fact that among a certain—or uncertain—class, invitations were sometimes issued with the special purpose of calling forth a number of presents,—in fact, for revenue only. Few persons acknowledge this of themselves, but sometimes a bride was met who was so indiscreet or so void of taste as to confess her hope that all the persons whom she invited to her nuptials would be represented by remembrances in gold, silver, jewelry or napery. The[168] pendulum has swung as far in the opposite direction, and fewer wedding gifts than of old are sent from politeness alone.

Suitable gifts for a bride are silver, cut-glass, table linen, pictures, books, handsome chairs or tables, rugs, bric-à-brac and jewelry. In fact, anything for the new home is proper. It is not customary to send wearing apparel, except when this is given by some member of the bride’s family. A check made out to the bride is always a handsome gift. The parents of the wife-to-be frequently give the small silver.

How should the silver be marked? is sometimes asked. Good form demands that if the donor wishes to have his gift marked, it must be engraved with the bride’s maiden initials. Some persons are so thoughtful that they send silver with the request that it be returned after the ceremony by the bride for marking as she sees fit. She then returns it to the firm from which it was bought,—said firm having received an order from the donor to engrave it according to the owner’s wishes.

Still, if silver must be given marked, it is safe to have the initials of the bride put upon it. Even should she die, good taste and conventionality would forbid the use of her silver by the second wife,—should there be one. While on this melancholy[169] side of the subject it would be well to state that when a wife dies, leaving a child, and the husband remarries, her silver is packed away for the child’s use in future years. This is demanded by custom and conventionality. This rule is especially to be regarded if the child be a girl, as she then has a right to the mother’s silver, marked with that mother’s name.

A wedding gift is accompanied by the donor’s card,—usually enclosed in a small card-envelope. As soon as possible, the bride-to-be writes a personal letter of thanks. This must be cordial, and in the first person, somewhat in this form:

If a gift arrives so late that it can not be acknowledged before the wedding, the wife must write[170] as soon as possible after the ceremony,—even during the first days of her honeymoon. To neglect to do this is an unpardonable rudeness.

The wedding gifts may be displayed in a room by themselves on the wedding-day, but must not be accompanied by the cards of the donors. In spite of arguments pro and con, it is certainly in better taste to remove the cards before the exhibition. If there are so many present that there is any danger of the bride’s forgetting from whom the different articles came, let some member of the family keep a list, or take an inventory, before the cards are taken off. Some persons attach to each gift a tiny slip of paper bearing a number. In a little book is a corresponding number after which is written the name of the sender.

The rules that apply to wedding-presents apply also to the gifts sent at wedding anniversaries, be they wooden, tin, crystal, silver or golden anniversaries.

Engagement presents are frequently sent to the fiancée, but this is entirely a matter of taste or inclination, and is not demanded by fashion or conventionality. Contributions to linen showers may be included among the engagement gifts. The fashion of such “showers” is ephemeral,—a fact not to be regretted.

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A word or more is not out of place concerning the kind of gifts that a young man may make with propriety to a young woman with whom he is on agreeable terms. Flowers, books, candy,—these are gifts that he may make without offense, and she may receive without undue or unpleasant sense of obligation. If he be an old and intimate friend of her family, he may offer her small trinkets, or ornamental, semi-useful articles, such as a card-case, or a bonbonnière. Anything intended solely for use is proscribed. If a young man is engaged to a young woman the possible choice of gifts is, of course, much enlarged. Even then, however, very expensive gifts are not desirable. They lessen somewhat the charm of the relation between the two.

When a baby is born, the friends of the happy mother send her some article for the new arrival. It may be a dainty dress or flannel skirt, a cloak, cap or tiny bit of jewelry. These gifts the young mother is not supposed to acknowledge until she is strong enough to write letters without fear of weariness. As a rule some member of her family writes in her stead, expressing the mother’s thanks.

When a baby is christened, it is customary for the sponsors to make the little one a present. This is usually a piece of silver,—as a cup, a bowl,[172] marked with the child’s name; or a silver spoon, knife and fork may be given. The godparents give as a rule, something that will prove durable, or a gift that the child may keep all his life, rather than an article of wearing apparel.

A guest invited to a christening party may bring a gift, if he wishes to do so. This may be anything that fancy dictates. A pretty present for such an occasion is a “Record” or “Baby’s Biography,” handsomely bound and illustrated, containing blanks for the little one’s weight at birth and each succeeding year, for the record of his first tooth, the first word uttered, the first step taken, and so on, as well as spaces for the insertion of a lock of the baby-hair, progressive photographs, and other trifles dear to the mother’s heart. All christening gifts may be orally acknowledged by the mother when the guest presents them.

The custom of making Christmas presents is so universal that it would seem superfluous to offer any suggestion with regard to them, had not the dear old custom been so abused that the lovers of Christmas must utter their protest. It should be borne in mind that the only thing that makes a Christmas gift worth while is the thought that accompanies it. When it is given because policy,[173] habit or conventionality demands it, it is a desecration. If we must make any presents from a sense of duty, let it be on birthdays, on wedding-days, on other anniversaries,—never on the anniversary of the Great Gift to the World. If the spirit of good will to man does not prompt the giving, that giving is in vain. Nor should a present at this time be sent simply because one expects to receive a reminder in the shape of a present from a friend. A quid pro quo is not a true Christmas remembrance.

Let us suppose then, that the making of holiday presents is a pleasure. To simplify matters we would suggest that those who have a large circle of friends to whom they rejoice to give presents retain over to another year the list made the year previous. Not only will this keep in mind the person whom they would remember, but it will prevent duplicating presents. One woman learned to her dismay that for two years she had sent the same picture—a favorite with her—to a dear friend, while another sent a friend silver button-hooks for three consecutive Christmases.

All gifts, those of the holiday season included, should be promptly acknowledged, and never by a card marked “Thanks.” If a present is worth any[174] acknowledgment, it is worth courteous notice. When one says “Thank you!” either verbally or by letter, it should be uttered with sincerity, and from the heart. To omit the expression of cordial gratitude is a breach of good breeding.

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CHAPTER XVII
BACHELOR HOSPITALITY

THE day is past when the bachelor is supposed to have no home, no mode of entertaining his friends, no lares and penates, and no “ain fireside.” He is now an independent householder, keeping house if he choose to do so, with a corps of efficient servants, presided over by a competent housekeeper,—or, in a simpler manner having a small apartment of his own, attended by a manservant or maid, if he takes his meals in his apartment. Oftener, however, he prefers to dispense with housekeeping cares and live in a tiny apartment of two or three rooms, going out to a restaurant for his meals. He is then the most independent of creatures. If he can afford to have a man to take care of his rooms and his clothes, well and good. If not, he pays a woman to come in regularly to clean his apartment, and she takes charge of his bed-making and dusting or,—if he be very deft, systematic and industrious,—he does this kind of thing himself.

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In any of the cases just cited he is at liberty to entertain. He may have an afternoon tea, or a reception, or an after-theater chafing-dish supper. Unless he has his own suite of dining-room, kitchen and butler’s pantry, he can not serve a regular meal in his rooms. But there are many informal, Bohemian affairs to which he can invite his friends. For the after-theater supper, for instance, he may engage a man to assist him and to have everything in readiness when the host and his party arrive at the apartment. The host, himself, will prepare the chafing-dish dainty, and with this may be passed articles supplied by a near-by caterer, such as sandwiches, ices and cakes. He may make his own coffee in a Vienna coffee-pot. The whole proceeding is delightful, informal and Bohemian in the best sense of the word.

A sine qua non to all bachelor entertaining is a chaperon. The married woman can not be dispensed with on such occasions. The host may be gray-headed and old enough to be a grandfather many times over, but, as an unmarried man, he must have a chaperon for his women guests. If he object to this, he must reconcile himself to entertaining only those of his own sex.

The age of this essential appendage to the social party makes no difference, so long as the prefix[177] “Mrs.” is attached to her name. She may be a bride of only a few weeks’ standing,—but the fact that she is married is the essential.

The host, then, first of all, engages his chaperon,—asking her as a favor to assist him in his hospitable efforts. She should accept graciously, but the man will show by his manner that he is honored by her undertaking this office for him. She must be promptly at his rooms at the hour mentioned, as it would be the height of impropriety for one of the young women to arrive there before the matron. If she prefer she may accompany a bevy of the girls invited. To her the host defers, from her he asks advice, and to her he pays special deference. If there is tea to be poured, as at an afternoon function, it is she who is asked to do it, and she may, with a pretty air of assuming responsibility, manage affairs somewhat as if in her own home, still remembering that she is a guest. In this matter tact and a knowledge of the ways of the world play a large part. The chaperon is bound to remain until the last girl takes her departure, after which it is quite en règle for the host to offer his escort, unless she accompanies the last guest, or a carriage be awaiting her. The host thanks her cordially for her kind offices, and she in turn expresses herself as honored by the compliment he has paid her.

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Perhaps the simplest form of entertainment for the unmarried man to give in his own quarters is the afternoon tea in some of its various forms. For this function the man must not issue cards, but must write personal notes, or ask his guests orally. He may invite several friends who will supply music. If he have some friend who is especially gifted musically, and whom he would gladly bring before the eyes of the public, he may make the presence of this friend an excellent reason for this afternoon reception. After having secured the chaperon’s acceptance he may write some such note as the following:

There should, if possible, be a maid, or a man in livery to attend the door, but, if this is not practicable, and the affair be very informal, the host may himself admit his guests, and escort them to the door when they leave.

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The only refreshments necessary are thin bread and butter, and some dainty sandwiches, small cakes and tea with sugar, cream and thin slices of lemon. These things are arranged upon a prettily set table in one corner of the room, and are presided over by the chaperon, who also, when the opportunity affords, moves about among the guests, chatting to each and all as if she were in her own drawing-room. If the man has several rooms, one may be opened as a dressing-room in which the women may lay their wraps. The men guests may leave their coats and hats on the hall table or rack.

When the guests depart it is pretty and deferential for the host to thank the women for making his apartment bright and attractive for the afternoon. It is always well for a man to show by his manner that his woman guest has honored him by her presence.

An evening reception may be conducted in a similar way, but at this time coffee and chocolate take the place of tea. Or, if the host prefer, he may serve only cake and coffee, or punch, or ices in addition to the cake and coffee.

If a bachelor be also a householder to the extent of running a regular ménage, he may give a dinner in his home just as a woman might. He[180] first engages his chaperon, then invites his guests. The chaperon is the guest of honor, is taken out to dinner by the host and sits at his right. It is also her place to make the move for the women to leave the men to their cigars and coffee, and proceed to the drawing-room. Here, after a very few minutes, the women are joined by the men or, at all events, by the host, who may, if he like, give his men guests permission to linger in the dining-room a little longer than he does. They will, however, not take long advantage of this permission, but, at the expiration of five or ten minutes, will follow their host to the drawing-room.

The man who can not entertain in his own rooms may return any hospitality shown to him by giving a supper or dinner at a restaurant or hotel. In this case he must still have a chaperon,—if the party is to be made up of unmarried persons. For such an affair as this he engages his table and orders the dinner beforehand, seeing for himself that the flowers and decorations chosen are just what he wishes. It is his place to escort the chaperon to the restaurant and to seat her at his right. Everything is so perfectly conducted at well-regulated restaurants that the course of the dinner will progress without the host’s concerning himself about it. If, however, the host wishes to give an order,[181] he should beckon to a waiter, and in a low tone make the necessary suggestion or give the requisite order. It is, at such a juncture, the part of the chaperon to keep the conversational ball rolling,—in short, to act as if she were hostess.

The dinner over, the host escorts his guests as far as the door of the restaurant, going to the various carriages with the women, then calls up the chaperon’s carriage and, himself, accompanies her to her home.

At a bachelor dinner the host may provide corsage bouquets for the ladies and boutonnières for the men. It is also a pretty compliment for him to send to the chaperon at his afternoon or evening reception, flowers for her to wear. But this is not essential, and is a compliment that may be dispensed with in the case of a man who must consider the small economies of life.

Of course, no dinner call is made on the bachelor entertainer. It is hardly worth while to suggest that the women whom he has honored make a point of soon inviting him to their homes. In this day there is little need to remind women of the attentions they may with propriety pay to an eligible and unattached man.

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CHAPTER XVIII
THE VISITOR

AN invitation to visit a friend in her home must always be answered promptly. The invited person should think seriously before accepting such an invitation, and, unfortunately, one of the things she has to consider is her wardrobe. If the hostess has a superb house, and the guest is to be one of many, all wealthy except herself, all handsomely gowned except herself, and if she will feel like an English sparrow in a flock of birds of paradise, she would better acknowledge the invitation, with gratitude, and stay at home. If she does go, let her determine to make no apologies for her appearance, but to accommodate herself to the ways of the household she visits.

One woman, visiting in a handsome home, was distressed to the point of weeping by the fact that, on her arrival, her hostess’ maid came to the guest’s room and unpacked her trunk for her, putting the contents in bureau-drawers and wardrobe. It would have been better form if the visitor had taken what seemed to her an innovation as a matter of course,[183] and expressed neither chagrin nor distress at the kindly-meant and customary attention.

If, then, our invited person, after taking all things into consideration, decides to accept the invitation sent her, let her state just when she is coming, and go at that time. Of course she will make her plans agree with those of her future hostess. The exact train should be named, and the schedule set must not be deviated from.

It may be said right here that no one should make a visit uninvited. Few persons would do this,—but some few have been guilty of this breach of etiquette. One need not always wait for an invitation from an intimate friend, nor member of one’s family with whom one can never be de trop, but, even then, one should, by telegram or telephone, give notice of one’s coming. If I could, I would make a rule that no one should pay an unexpected visit of several days’ duration. If one must go uninvited, one should give the prospective hosts ample notice of the intended visit, begging, at the same time, that one may be notified if the suggested plan be inconvenient.

When a letter of invitation is accepted, the acceptance must not only be prompt, but must clearly state how long one intends to stay. It is embarrassing[184] to a hostess not to know whether her guest means to remain a few days or many. As will be seen in the chapter on “The Visited,” the hostess can do much to obviate this uncertainty by asking a friend for a visit of a specified length. But, in accepting, the guest must also say how long she will remain.

An invitation should be received gratefully. In few things does breeding show more than in the manner of acknowledging an invitation to a friend’s house. She who asks another to be a member of her household for even a short time is paying the person asked the greatest honor it is in her power to confer, and it should be appreciated by the recipient. He who does not appreciate the honor implied in such an invitation is unmannerly.

An invitation once accepted, nothing but such a serious contingency as illness must prevent one’s fulfilling the engagement. One must never arrive ahead of time. Once in the home of a friend the guest makes herself as much a member of the household as possible. The hours of meals must be ascertained, and promptness in everything be the rule. To lie in bed after one is called, and to appear at the breakfast table at one’s own sweet will, is often an inconvenience to the hostess, and the cause of vexation and discontent on the part of the servants,[185] for which discontent the hostess—not the guest—pays the penalty. Unless, then, the latter is told expressly that the hour at which she descends to the first meal of the day is truly of no consequence in the household, she must come into the breakfast-room at the hour named by the mistress of the house.

On the other hand, one should not come down a half-hour before breakfast and sit in the drawing-room or library, thus keeping the maid or hostess from dusting these rooms and setting them to rights. The considerate guest will stay in her own room until breakfast is announced, then descend immediately. If the weather is fair, she may, of course, walk in the grounds close to the house.

If amusements have been planned for the guest, she will do her best to enjoy them, or, at all events, to show gratitude for the kind intentions in her behalf. She must resolve to evince an interest in all that is done, and, if she can not join in the amusement, give evidence of an appreciation of the efforts that have been made to entertain. The guest must remember that the hosts are doing their best to please her, and that out of ordinary humanity, if not civility, gratitude should be shown and expressed for these endeavors.

If the hostess be a busy housewife, who has many[186] duties about the house which she must perform herself, the visitor may occasionally try to “lend a hand” by dusting her own room or making her own bed. If, however, she is discovered at these tasks, and observes that the hostess looks worried, or objects to the guest thus exerting herself, it is the truest courtesy not to repeat the efforts to be of assistance. It disturbs some housewives to know that a visitor is performing any household tasks.

It is safe to say that a guest should go home at the time set unless the hostess urges her to do otherwise, or has some excellent reason for wishing her to change her plans. To remain beyond the time expected is a great mistake, unless one knows that it will be a genuine convenience to the hosts to have one stay. The old saying that a guest should not make a host twice glad has sound common sense as its basis. If a visitor is persuaded to extend her visit, it must be only for a short time, and she must herself set the limit of this stay, at which time nothing must in any way be allowed to deter her from taking her departure.

The visitor in a family must exercise tact in many ways. Above all she must avoid any participation in little discussions between persons in the family. If the father takes one side of an argument, the mother the other, the wise guest will keep silent, unless[187] one or the other appeal to her for confirmation of his or her assertions,—in which case she should smilingly say that she would rather not express an opinion, or laugh the matter off in such a way as to change the current of the conversation.

Another thing that a guest must avoid is reproving the children of the house in even the mildest, gentlest way. She must also resist the impulse to make an audible excuse for a child when he is reprimanded in her presence. To do either of these things is a breach of etiquette.

If she be so fortunate as to be invited to a house-party or a week-end party, she should accept or decline at once, that the hostess may know for how many people to provide rooms. For such an affair one should take handsome gowns, as a good deal of festivity and dress is customary among the jolly group thus brought together. A dinner or evening gown is essential, and if, as is customary, the house-party be given at a country-home, the visitor must have a short walking-skirt and walking-boots, as well as a carriage costume.

Once a member of a house-party, the rule is simple enough. Do as the others do, and enter with a will on all the entertainment provided by the host and hostess for the party.

If you make a visit of any length you must not[188] fail, if you are conventional, to leave a little money for each servant who has, by her services in any capacity, contributed to your comfort. This will, of course, include the maid who has cared for the bedroom, and the waitress. By one of these servants send something to the cook, and a message of thanks for the good things which she has made and you have enjoyed. The laundress need not be inevitably remembered, unless she has done a little washing for you; still, when one considers the extra bed and table linen to be washed, it is as well to leave a half dollar for her also. The amount of such fees must be determined by the length of one’s purse; and must never be so large as to appear lavish and unnecessary. A dollar, if you can afford it and have made a visit of any length, will be sufficient for each maid. The coachman who drives you to the train must receive the same amount.

There is, one is glad to say, an occasional household in which the idea of tips is regarded as contrary to the spirit of true hospitality. In such homes the mistress herself sees that the servants receive extra pay for the extra work entailed by guests, and the hotel atmosphere suggested by tipping is fortunately done away with.

After the guest has returned to her own home, her duties toward her recent hosts are not at an[189] end until she has written what is slangily known as “the bread-and-butter letter.” This is simply a note, telling of one’s safe arrival at one’s destination, and thanking the hostess for the pleasant visit one has had. A few lines are all that etiquette demands, but it requires these, and decrees that they be despatched at once. To neglect to write the letter demanded by those twin sisters, Conventionality and Courtesy, is a grave breach of the etiquette of the visitor.

Hospitality as a duty has been written up from the beginning of human life. The obligations of those who, in quaint old English phrase, “guesten” with neighbors, or strangers, have had so little attention it is no wonder they are lightly considered, in comparison.

We hear much of men who play the host royally, and of the perfect hostess. If hospitality be reckoned among the fine arts and moral virtues, to “guesten” aright is a saving social grace. Where ten excellent hosts are found we are fortunate if we meet one guest who knows his business and does it.

The consciousness of this neglected fact prompts us to write in connection with our cardinal virtue of giving, of what we must perforce coin a word to define as “Guestly Etiquette.” We have said elsewhere that the first, and oftentimes a humiliating step, in the acquisition of all knowledge, from[190] making a pudding to governing an empire, is to learn how not to do it. Two-thirds of the people who “guesten” with us never get beyond the initiatory step.

The writer of this page could give from memory a list that would cover pages of foolscap, of people who called themselves well-bred and who were in the main well-meaning, who have deported themselves in hospitable homes as if they were registered boarders in a hotel.

Settle within your own mind, in entering your friend’s doors, that what you receive is not to be paid for in dollars and cents. The thought will deprive you at once of the right to complain or to criticize. This should be a self-evident law. It is so far, however, from being self-evident that it is violated every day and in scores of homes where refinement is supposed to regulate social usages.

Taking at random illustrations that crowd in on memories of my own experiences,—let me draw into line the distinguished clergyman who always brought his own bread to the table, informing me that my hot muffins were “rank poison to any rightly-appointed stomach”; another man, equally distinguished in another profession, who summoned a chambermaid at eleven o’clock at night to drag his bed across the room that he might lie due east and[191] west; an author who never went to bed until two o’clock in the morning, and complained sourly at breakfast time that “your servants, madam, banked up the furnace fire so early that the house got cold by midnight”; the popular musician who informed me “your piano is horribly out of tune”; the man and wife who “couldn’t sleep a wink because there was a mosquito in the room”; the eminent jurist who sat out an evening in the library of my country-house with his hat on because “the room was drafty”;—ah! my fellow housemothers can match every instance of the lack of the guestly conscience by stories from their own repositories.

The guest who is told to consider himself as one of the family knows the invitation to be a figure of polite speech as well as he who says it knows it to be an empty form. One man I wot of sings and whistles in the halls and upon the stairs of his host’s house to show how joyfully he is at home. Another stretches himself at length upon the library sofa, and smokes the cigar of peace (to himself) at all hours, an ash-cup upon the floor within easy distance. A third helps himself to his host’s cigars whenever he likes without saying “by your leave.” Each may fancy that he is following out the hospitable intentions of his entertainers when, in fact, he is selfishly oblivious of guestly duty and propriety.

One who has given the subject more than a passing[192] thought might suppose it unnecessary to lay down to well-bred readers “Laws for Table Manners While Visiting.” Yet, when I saw a man of excellent lineage, and a university graduate, thump his empty tumbler on the table to attract the attention of the waitress, and heard him a few minutes later call out to her “Butter—please!” I wished that the study of such a manual had been included as a regular course in the college curriculum.

A true anecdote recurs to me here that may soothe national pride with the knowledge that the solecisms I have described and others that have not added to the traveled American’s reputation for breeding, are not confined to our side of the ocean.

Lord and Lady B——, names familiar some years back to the students of the “high-life” columns of our papers, were at a dinner party in New York with an acquaintance of mine who painted the scene for me. Lady B——, tasting her soup as soon as it was set down in front of her, calls to her husband at the other end of the table: “B——, my dear! Don’t eat this soup! It is quite filthy! There are tomatoes in it!”

We Americans are less brutally frank than our English cousins. Yet I thought of Lady B—— last week when my vis-à-vis,—a slim, pretty, accomplished matron of thirty, or thereabouts—at an admirably-appointed family dinner, accepted a plate of[193] soup, tasted it, laid down her spoon and did not touch it again, repeating the action with an entrée, and with the dessert of peaches and cream. She did not grimace her distaste of any one of the three articles of food, it is true, being, thus far, better-mannered than our titled vulgarian. In effect, she implied the same thing by tasting of each portion and declining to eat more than the tentative mouthful.

To sum up our table of rules: Bethink yourself, from your entrance to your exit from your host’s house, of the sure way of adding to the comfort and pleasure of those who have honored you by inviting you to sojourn under their roof-tree. If possessed of the true spirit of hospitality, they will find that pleasure in promoting yours. Learn from them and be not one whit behind them in the good work. If they propose any especial form of amusement, fall in with their plans readily and cordially. You may not enjoy a stately drive through dusty roads behind fat family horses, or a tramp over briery fields with the hostess who is addicted to berrying and botanizing—but go as if that were the exact bent of taste and desire. A dinner party, made up of men who talk business and nothing else, and their over-dressed wives, who revel in the discussion of what Mrs. Sherwood calls “The Three Dreadful[194] D’s”—Disease, Dress and Domestics—may typify to you the acme of boredom. Comport yourself as if you were in your native element and happy there. The self-discipline will be a means of grace in more ways than one.

On Sunday accompany your hosts to their place of worship with the same cheerful readiness to like what they like. You may be a high church Episcopalian and they belong to the broadest wing of Unitarians or the straitest sect of Evangelicals. Put prejudice and personal preference behind you and find consolation in the serene conviction of guestly duty done—and done in a truly Christian spirit.

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CHAPTER XIX
THE VISITED

IT has been said,—and with an unfortunate amount of truth, that the gracious old-fashioned art of hospitality is dying out. Those who keep open house from year’s end to year’s end, from whose doors the latch-string floats in the breeze, ready for the fingers of any friend who will grasp it, are few.

The “entertaining” that is done now does not compensate us for the loss of what may be called the “latch-string-out” custom of the days gone by. Luncheons, teas, dinners, card-parties, receptions and the like, fill the days with engagements and hold our eyes waking until the morning hours, but this is a kind of wholesale hospitality as it were, and done by contract. Such affairs remind one ludicrously of the irreligious and historic farmer-boy who, reminiscent of his father’s long-winded “grace before meat,” suggested when they salted the pork for the winter that he “say grace over the whole barrel” and pay off a disagreeable obligation all at one time.

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Perhaps if our hostess were frank she would acknowledge a similar desire when she sends out cards by the hundreds and fills her drawing-rooms to overflowing with guests, scores of whom care to come even less than she cares to have them. But there seems to be a credit and debit account kept, and once in so often it is incumbent on the society woman to “give something.” Florists and caterers are called to her aid, and, with waiters and assistants hired for the occasion, take the work of preparation for the entertainment off my lady’s hands.

In speaking of hospitality in this chapter, we refer especially to the entertaining of a visitor for one, or many days in the home. Not long ago we made a point of asking several housekeepers why they did not invite friends to visit them. Three out of four interviewed on the subject agreed that the servants were the main drawback. The fourth woman, who was in moderate circumstances, confessed that she did not want guests unless she could “entertain them handsomely.”

To obviate the first-mentioned difficulty, every housekeeper should, when engaging a servant, declare boldly that she receives her friends at will, in her home, and have that fact understood from the outset of Bridget’s or Gretchen’s career with her.[197] At the same time she should remember that extra work should mean extra pay or its equivalent in help. It is astonishing how inconsiderate many women, otherwise kindly, are in their relation to domestic servants.

As to the reason given by the fourth housekeeper, it is too contemptible to be considered by a sensible woman. Our guests come to see us for ourselves, not for the beauty of our houses, or for the elegance of our manner of living. The woman whose house is clean and furnished as her means permit, who sets her table with the best that she can provide for her own dear ones, is always prepared for company. There may be times when the unlooked-for coming of a guest is an inconvenience. It should never be the cause of a moment’s mortification. Only pretense, and seeming to be what one is not, need cause a sensation of shame. If a friend comes, put another plate at the table, and take him into the sanctum sanctorum—the home. With such a welcome the simplest home is dignified.

But as to the invited guest. The hostess knows when she wishes to receive her friend, and, in a cordial invitation, states the exact date upon which she has decided, giving the hour of the arrival of trains, and saying that she or some member of her family will meet the guest at the station. One who[198] has ever arrived at a strange locality, “unmet,” knows the peculiar sinking of heart caused by the neglect of this simple duty on the part of the hostess.

The letter of invitation should also state how long the visitor is expected to stay. This may be easily done by writing—“Will you come to us on the twenty-first and stay for a week?” or, “We want you to make us a fortnight’s visit, coming on the fifteenth.” If one can honestly add to an invitation, “We hope that you may be able to extend the time set, as we want to keep you as long as possible,” it may be done. If not meant, the insincere phrase is inexcusable.

Elaborate preparations should be avoided—preparations that weary the hostess and try the tempers of servants. The guest-chamber will be clean, sweet and dainty. No matter how competent a chambermaid is, the mistress must see for herself that sheets, pillow-slips and towels are spotless, and that there are no dusty corners in the room. A trustworthy thermometer should hang in full view, that the guest may regulate by it the temperature of her room. If the visitor be a woman, and flowers are in season, a vase of favorite blossoms will be placed on the dressing-table. The desk or writing-table will be supplied with paper, envelopes, pens, ink, stamps and a calendar. Several interesting novels or magazines[199] should be within reach. All these trifles add to the home-like feeling of the new arrival.

A welcome should be cordial and honest. A hostess should take time to warm her guest’s heart by telling her that she is glad, genuinely glad, to have her in her home. She should also do all she can to make the visitor forget that she is away from her own house.

All this done, the guest should be let alone! We mean this, strange as it may seem. Many well-meaning hostesses annoy guests by following them up and by insisting that they shall be “doing something” all the time. This is almost as wearing and depressing as neglect would be. Each person wants to be alone a part of the time. A visitor is no exception to this rule. She has letters to write, or an interesting book she wants to read, or, if she needs the rest and change her visit should bring her, it will be luxury to her to don a kimono and relax on the couch or bed in her room for an hour or two a day. The thought that one’s hostess is noting and wondering at one’s absence from the drawing-room, where one is expected to be on exhibition, is to a nervous person akin to torture.

Allow all possible freedom as to the hour for rising, provide a certain amount of entertainment for the visitor in the way of outdoor exercise (if[200] she likes it), callers, amusements and so forth, and then (again) in plain English, let her alone!

One must never insist that a guest remain beyond the time set for her return, if the guest declares sincerely that to remain longer is inadvisable. To speed the parting guest is an item of true hospitality. The hostess may beg her to stay when she feels that the visitor can conveniently do so, and when her manner shows that she desires to do so. But when the suggestion has been firmly and gratefully declined, the matter should be dropped. A guest who feels that she must return to her home for business, family or private reasons, is embarrassed by the insistence on the part of her entertainers that such return is unnecessary.

Of course, the visitor in one’s house should be spared all possible expense. The porter who brings the trunk should be paid by the host, unless the guest forestalls him in his hospitable intention. Car-fares, hack-hire and such things, are paid by the members of the family visited. All these things should be done so unobtrusively as to escape, if possible, the notice of the person entertained.

If a woman have two maids, the second maid should, shortly before the retiring hour, go to the guest’s room, turn down the covers of the bed and[201] provide a pitcher of fresh drinking-water. In the event of having one maid only, the hostess will perform these offices herself.

No matter what happens—should there be illness and even death in the family—a hospitable person will not allow the stranger within her gates to feel that she is in the way, or her presence an inconvenience. There is no greater cruelty than that of allowing a guest in the home to feel that matters would run more smoothly were she absent. Only better breeding on the part of the visitor than is possessed by her hostess will prevent her leaving the house and returning to her home. Should sudden illness in the family occur, the considerate person will leave. But this must be permitted only under protest. To invite a friend to one’s house, and then seem to find her presence unwelcome is only a degree less cruel than confining a bird in a cage, where he can not forage for himself, and slowly starving him. If one has not the hospitable instinct developed strongly enough to feel the right sentiment, let him feign it, or refuse to attempt to entertain friends. The person under one’s roof should be, for the time, sacred, and the host who does not feel this is altogether lacking in the finer instincts that accompany good breeding.

We know one home in which hospitality is dispensed[202] in a way no guest ever forgets. From the time the visitor enters the doors of this House Beautiful she is, as it were, enwrapped in an atmosphere of loving consideration impossible to describe. One guest, visiting there with her children, was horrified at their being taken suddenly ill with grippe,—so ill that to travel with them just then was dangerous. She was hundreds of miles away from home with the possibility of the children’s being confined to the house for some days to come. The physician summoned confirmed her fears. The distressed mother knew only too well what an inconvenience illness is,—especially in a friend’s house instead of in one’s own home.

All the members of the household united in making the disconcerted woman feel that this home was the one and only place in which the little ones should have been seized with the prevailing epidemic; that it was a pleasure to have them there under any circumstances; that to wait on them and their mother was a privilege. The sweet-voiced, sweet-faced hostess, herself an invalid at this time, drew the anxious visitor down on the bed beside her and kissed her as she said:

“Dear child! try to believe that you and yours are as welcome here as in your own dear mother’s home.”

Surely of such is the Kingdom of Heaven!

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CHAPTER XX
HOSPITALITY AS A DUTY

IF ours were a perfect state of society, constructed on the Golden Rule, animated and guided throughout by unselfish love for friend and neighbor, and charity for the needy, there would be no propriety in writing this chapter. Home, domestic comfort and happiness being our best earthly possessions, we would be eagerly willing to share them with others.

As society is constructed under a state of artificial civilization, and as our homes are kept and our households are run, the element of duty must interfere, or hospitality would become a lost art. Even where the spirit of this—one of the most venerable of virtues—is not wanting, conscience is called in to regulate the manner and the seasons in which it should be exercised.

As a corner-stone, assume, once for all, that a binding obligation rests on you to visit, and to receive visits, and to entertain friends, acquaintances and strangers in a style consistent with your means,[204] at such times as may be consistent with more serious engagements. Having once issued an invitation, you are sacredly bound on the day named to give yourself completely to your guests. To invite people to dinner and then ask them to leave early in order that one may accept an invitation that one has received in the meantime, would seem impossible to a woman of right instincts—but it has been done, at least by women of social prominence.

It may sound harsh to assert that you have no right to accept hospitality for which you can never make any return in kind. The principle is, nevertheless, sound to the core.

Those who read the newspapers forty years ago will recall a characteristic incident in the early life of Colonel Ellsworth, the brilliant young lawyer who was one of the first notable victims of the Civil War. His struggles to gain a foothold in his profession were attended by many hardships and humiliating privations. Once, finding the man he was looking for on a matter of business, in a restaurant, he was invited to partake of the luncheon to which his acquaintance was just sitting down. Ellsworth was ravenously hungry, almost starving, in fact, but he declined courteously but firmly, asking permission to talk over the business that had brought him thither, while the other went on with the meal.

The brave young fellow, in telling the story in[205] after years, confessed that he suffered positive agony at the sight and smell of the tempting food.

“I could not, in honor, accept hospitality I could not reciprocate,” was his simple explanation of his refusal. “I might starve, I could not sponge!”

Sponging—to put it plainly—is pauperism. The one who eats of your bread and salt becomes, in his own eyes—not in yours—your debtor. For the very genius of hospitality is to give, not expecting to receive again. (This by the way!)

I do not mean if your wealthy acquaintance invites you to a fifteen-course dinner, the cost of which equals your monthly income, that you are in honor or duty bound to bid her to an entertainment as elaborate, or that you suffer in her estimation, or by the loss of your self-respect. But by the acceptance of the invitation you bind yourself to reciprocation of some sort. If you can do nothing more, ask your hostess to afternoon tea in your own house or flat, and have a few congenial spirits to meet her there. It is the spirit in such a case that makes alive and keeps alive the genial glow of good will and cordial friendliness. The letter of commercial obligation, like for like, in degree, and not in kind, would kill true hospitality.

Your friend’s friend, introduced by him and calling on you, has a proved claim on your social offices.[206] If you can not make a special entertainment for him, ask him to a family dinner, explaining that it is such, and make up in kindly welcome for the lack of lordly cheer. If it be a woman, invite her to luncheon with you and a friend or two, or to a drive, winding up with afternoon tea in some of the quietly elegant tea-rooms that seem to have been devised for the express use of people of generous impulses and slender purses. It is not the cost in coin of the realm that tells with the stranger, but the temper in which the tribute is offered.

“I do not ‘entertain’ in the sense in which the word is generally used,” wrote a distinguished woman to me once, hearing that I was to be in her neighborhood. “But I can not let you pass me by. Come on Thursday, and lunch with me, en tête-à-tête.”

I accepted gladly, and the memory of that meal, elegant in simplicity, shared with one whom my soul delights to honor, is as an apple of gold set in a picture of silver.

The stranger, as such, has a Scriptural claim on you, when circumstances make him your neighbor. In thousands of homes since the day when Abraham ran from his tent-door to constrain the thirsting and hungering travelers to accept such rest and refreshment as he could offer them during the heat of[207] the day, angels have been entertained unawares in the guise of strangerhood.

“Did you know the B——’s before they came to our town?” asked an inquisitive New Englander of one of her near neighbors.

“No.”

“Then—you won’t mind my asking you?—why did you invite them to dinner on Thanksgiving Day? It’s made a deal of talk.”

Abraham’s disciple smiled.

“Because they were strangers, and seemed to be lonely. They are respectable, and they live on my street.”

Poetical justice requires me to add that the B——’s, who became the lifelong friends of their first hostess in the strange land, proved to be people of distinction whom the best citizens of the exclusive little town soon vied with one another in “cultivating.” In ignorance of their antecedents the imitator of the tent-holder of Mamre did her duty from the purest of motives.

Not one individual or one family has a moral or a social right to neglect the practise of hospitality. Unless one is confined to the house or bed by illness, one should visit and invite visits in return.

We are human beings, not hermit crabs.

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CHAPTER XXI
THE HOUSE OF MOURNING

THE observance of mourning is a difficult matter to treat, for individual feeling enters largely into the question. Still, there are certain rules accepted by those who would not be made remarkable by their scorn of conventionalities.

The matter of mourning-cards and stationery has been treated in the chapter on “Calls and Cards,” and on “Letter-Writing.” A word may here be added with regard to the letter of condolence. This should be written to the bereaved person as soon as practicable after the death for which she mourns. It must not be long, but should express in a few sincere words the sympathy felt, and the wish to do something to help alleviate the mourner’s distress. This letter does not demand an answer, but some persons try, some weeks after such letters have been received, to reply to them. This is not really necessary, except when the writer is a near friend of the family. In many cases, a black-edged card bearing the words, “Mr. and Mrs. —— wish to thank[209] you for your kind sympathy in their recent bereavement,” is mailed to the writer.

If one does not write a letter, one may send to or leave at the house of mourning a card, bearing the words, “Sincere sympathy,” upon it.

The funeral notice in the daily papers is now sometimes accompanied by the request, “Kindly omit flowers.” To send flowers after the appearance of such a notice is the height of rudeness and shows little respect to the dead and none for the family.

If there are more flowers than can be taken to the cemetery, those left may be sent to the inmates of hospitals, who need not know that they were intended for a funeral. Those who attend a funeral should dress quietly, but they need not wear black unless they prefer to do so.

While few persons would be guilty of attending a funeral out of curiosity, there are undoubtedly some who do. Sensitive people are growing to realize that the last ceremony for the dead is too sacred to be shared except with those who are really entitled by close ties to be present and have signified by personal messenger those whom they desired should be present.

In attending a funeral one should be prompt, and yet not so far ahead of the hour set as to arrive before[210] the final arrangements are completed. At a church or house funeral, one should wait to be seated as the undertaker or his assistant directs. Nor should one ever linger after the services to speak to any members of the family, unless one is particularly requested to do so. One should not expect to look on the face of the dead unless one is asked to do so.

In churches of two denominations it is not customary to have the coffin opened to the public gaze. It is a pity that this law is not universal, but it is becoming more common to have the casket left closed through the entire service. It certainly spares the mourners the agonizing period during which the long line of friends, and strangers who come from vulgar curiosity, file past and look on the unshielded features of the dead. Some one has said that the custom of allowing the curious who did not know the deceased, and who cared nothing for him, to gaze on his face after death, seems to be taking an unfair advantage of the dead.

Many persons prefer a quiet house funeral for one they love, for there are few persons vulgar or bold enough to force themselves into the house of mourning, where only those who knew and loved the departed are welcome. But the method of personal[211] invitation makes the presence of such people impossible.

At a house funeral the clergyman stands near the head of the coffin while he reads the service, the audience standing or sitting as the custom of the special service used demands.

At a church funeral, the clergyman meets the coffin at the door and precedes it up the aisle, reading the burial service. As he begins to read, the congregation rises and stands as the procession moves forward. When, after the services, the coffin is lifted by the bearers, the congregation again rises and remains standing until the casket has been taken from the church. A private interment, or one at the convenience of the family, is now almost universal. Unless invited, no outsider, even if he be a friend of the family, will go to the cemetery under such circumstances.

After the funeral, and when one’s friends have begun to realize sorrow, is the time when it is the hardest to bear. It is then that the sympathetic person may do much toward brightening the long and dreary days in the house of mourning. Flowers left at the door occasionally, frequent calls, an occasional cheering note, a bright book lent, are a few of the small courtesies that amount to actual benefactions.[212] Only those who have had to learn to live with a grief that is almost forgot by others know what such tokens of thoughtful sympathy mean. All who count themselves friends should call within a month, always telling the maid that if the ladies do not feel like appearing they are not to do so.

The heaviest mourning demanded by conventionality is worn by a widow, but even she is now allowed to dispense with the heavy crape veil. In its place is the long veil of nun’s veiling, which is worn over the face only at the funeral. With it is a face-veil, trimmed with crape, and a white ruche or “widow’s cap” stitched inside of the brim of the small bonnet. The dress is of Henrietta cloth, or other lusterless material, and may be trimmed with crape. Black suède gloves and black-bordered handkerchiefs—if these are liked—are proper. The widow seldom discards her veil under two years,—some widows wear it always. After the first year it is shortened.

It is a matter for congratulation that crape, that most expensive, unwholesome, perishable and inartistic of materials, is worn less and less with each passing year. Surely to have to wrap one’s self in its stiff and malodorous folds adds discomfort to grief. It is now seldom worn except by widows, although a daughter may wear it for a parent, a mother for her child.

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The matter of the mourning-veil is one each person must settle for herself, although the strictest followers of fashion deprecate its use for any women except widows. Some bereaved daughters and mothers wear it, but not for a long period, seldom longer than six months.

Mourning for the members of one’s immediate family may be worn for a year, then lightened. Mourning for a relative-in-law is lightened at the end of three or six months.

While on this subject it would be well to call attention to the fact that one should either wear conventional black, or no black at all. For a widow to wear, as a well-known woman did recently, a long veil and gray suède gloves, borders on the ridiculous. Nor should velvet, cut jet, satin and lace be donned by those wearing the insignia of grief. Nor are black-and-white combined deep mourning. They may be worn when the weeds are lightened, but not when one is wearing the strictly conventional garb of dolor. Even widows may wear all white, but not with black ribbons, unless the heavy black has been laid aside for what may be called the “second stage” of bereavement. At first, all materials either in black or white, must be of dull finish. Dresses may be of nun’s veiling, Henrietta cloth, and other unshining wool fabrics, or of dull, lusterless[214] silks. Simple white muslins, lawns and mulls are proper, but must not be trimmed with laces or embroidered.

For men, black or gray suits, black gloves and ties, and a black band upon the hat, are proper. The tie should be of taffeta or grosgrain silk, not of satin or figured silk. I would lay especial stress on the poor taste of the recent fad of wearing a black band upon the sleeve of a colored coat. The same rule applies to the would-be-smart young woman who sports a narrow black strip upon the left arm of her tan rain-coat or walking-jacket. If she can not wear conventional and suitable mourning, she would better wear none.

The matter of the period of time in which a mourner should shun society is a subject on which one may hesitate to express an opinion, as there are too many persons whose views would not coincide with ours. In this case, as in others, one must, to a certain extent, be a rule unto one’s self. One who is very sad shrinks naturally from going into gay society for the first few months after bereavement. The contrast of the gaiety with the mourner’s feelings must, of necessity, cause her pain. To such a one we need suggest no rules. To those less sensitive or less unhappy, it would be well to say that[215] deep black and festive occasions do not form a good combination. While one wears crape and a long veil one should shun receptions, opera boxes, teas and all such places. Later, as one lightens one’s mourning, one may attend the theater, small functions and informal affairs. Even the very sad may go to the theater when they would shrink from attending an affair at which they would meet strangers and where they would be obliged to laugh and be gay. After the first few months of the conventional retirement are past the sufferer must decide for herself what she may and may not do. We would add, rather as a suggestion than as a law of etiquette, that the onlooker forbear to judge of the behavior of the recently-bereaved. The heart knoweth its own bitterness, and if that bitterness can be sweetened by some genial outside influence, let others hesitate to condemn the owner of the heart from seeking that sweetness. Those whom we have lost, if they were worth loving, would be glad to know that our lives were not all dark.

The seemly custom followed in France of sending to relatives and friends of the family a letter advising them of a death is not, unfortunately, known in this country, where we, with less propriety, advertise our griefs and our gaieties alike in the public prints.

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CHAPTER XXII
AT TABLE

THE matter with which we have especially to do just now is the manners of the eater. The table may be simply or elaborately laid, as circumstances and taste dictate. It goes without saying that every housekeeper will have her board as attractive in appearance as possible, and that she will never omit the bowl or vase of flowers from the center of it. If her purse will not allow this decoration in midwinter she may substitute a potted plant or a vase containing a few sprays of English ivy, or wandering-jew.

The men never sit down until the women are seated. Each man draws out for her the chair of the woman who sits next him. Even in the quiet home-life this practise should be observed, and husband or son must always draw from the table the chair in which the wife or mother is to sit, and remain standing until she is seated. The host is seated last. As soon as all are at the table the napkin is[217] unfolded and placed across the knees. It need not be opened wide, unless it is a small breakfast or luncheon serviette.

If a man undertakes to carve game or a roast he should learn to do it well and quietly, never sharpening his knife to the annoyance of his guests or rising from his seat for a better “hold.” Many women carve excellently, but as there is a feeling that it is a difficult thing to do, a clever guest who knows his hostess well, will sometimes beg leave to take her place for the performance of this task. When the hostess begins to eat, the others follow her example. All food must be eaten slowly, and, above all, noiselessly. Many a fastidious person has had her enjoyment of her soup spoiled by the audible sipping of it by her vis-à-vis or her next neighbor. The soup should be lifted from the plate by an outward sweep of the spoon, and taken quietly from the side, not the tip, of the spoon. It is bad form to break bread or crackers into the soup, and the plate containing the liquid should never be tipped in order to obtain every drop of the contents.

Fish is not to be touched with the knife. There is reason for this. The cutting of some delicate sea-food with a steel knife affects the flavor of it, and renders it less delicate. The flesh is so tender[218] that it may be cut with a silver fork, and this is the only implement permitted in its manipulation. The same rule applies to salads, which are never, by the followers of conventionality, touched with the knife. Lettuce is, before serving, broken into bits of a convenient size to be carried to the mouth. If this is not done, the eater should cut it with the side of the fork, or fold each bit over into a convenient size for eating.

It should not be necessary to remind people in this day that the knife must only be used for the purpose of cutting food. When it has fulfilled this duty, being wielded by the right hand, the food being held in place by the fork in the left, the fork is then taken in the right hand, and the knife laid, with the edge turned outward, across the back of the plate. It is generally supposed that all classes know the use of the knife, yet in a fashionable restaurant there recently sat a handsomely-attired woman carrying French peas to her mouth with the blade of her knife. However, it is not so long since Chesterfield gave elaborate directions as to the proper way to eat with the knife! “Other times, other manners!”

It is an atrocity to pile several kinds of food upon the fork, mold them into a small mound with the knife, and then “dump” the load into wide-open[219] jaws. Each kind of viand should be lifted, a small bit at a time, upon the fork. Mastication should be absolutely noiseless, and the process conducted with the lips closed.

Bread, even when hot, may be broken off, a small piece at a time, buttered upon the plate, then eaten. All hot bread should be torn open or broken with the fingers, never cut into bits. To butter a slice of bread by laying it upon the table or, more disgusting still, upon the palm of the hand, is a relic of barbarism. At breakfast and luncheon the small bread and butter plate, with a small knife, is set at the upper left-hand side of the place and the bread should be kept on it.

Such fruits as apples or peaches are peeled with a small silver fruit knife, cut into quarters and eaten with the fingers. Oranges are peeled and then pulled apart or they may—at breakfast—be cut in halves and eaten with the aid of the sharp-toothed orange spoon. Grapes should be eaten from behind the half-closed hand into which skin and the seeds then fall.

It is permissible to use one’s knife to convey salt from one’s individual salt-cellar, if no tiny spoon for this purpose is supplied. But the salt shaker is a much more convenient device, though in damp weather the maid must see that the salt will “shake.”

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A mouthful must never be so large as to make it impossible for the eater to speak if a question be addressed to him while he is disposing of it. Nor can too great stress be laid upon the duty of slow eating and thorough mastication of all kinds of food. Not only does it add to the grace of the table-manners, but it prevents indigestion.

Never touch the food on the plate with the fingers, to push it upon the fork. If anything must be used for this purpose, let it be a bit of bread, but, if possible, dispense altogether with assistance of any kind. The fork should be equal to getting up all that is absolutely essential, and comfort does not depend upon securing every particle of meat or vegetables with which the plate is supplied.

Every year the spoon has fewer uses, and the fork has more. Now, when it is possible, desserts are taken with the fork where a spoon used to be employed. Pie, cake, ice-cream and firm puddings, with all kinds of fruit, are eaten with the fork. Some persons hold a fork awkwardly in an up and down fashion instead of in the proper graceful horizontal one. Of course the spoon is still essential for semi-solids, such as custards, creams and jellies.

There are a few things besides breads of all varieties which one is allowed to eat with the fingers.[221] Such are Saratoga chips, olives and small bird-bones,—these last to be taken daintily in the fingertips. It is no longer considered good form to eat asparagus with the fingers, although some very well-bred persons still do it. It is certainly an ugly sight to witness one’s opposite neighbor eating asparagus in this manner. It is possibly not so unattractive as to see him eat corn from the cob. But no better way of disposing of this last vegetable has as yet been invented. If corn is served on the cob, the cob should be broken into two or three pieces before it is lifted to the mouth. If one is so unlucky as to drop a fork or spoon, allow the maid to pick it up and to bring a fresh one, without making any comment whatever. A glass of wine overturned, however, demands apology and the hope that the hostess’ cloth will not be irremediably stained.

At breakfast, one may drink coffee with sugar and cream, but when black, or after-dinner coffee is served in a small cup, which is known as a demi-tasse, cream should be omitted. To ask for this when it is not on the table is the height of rudeness. One should learn to drink one’s after-dinner coffee without cream. Sugar is, of course, permissible. There is sense in this dictate of Fashion, as in many of the other rules laid down by this seemingly arbitrary dame. The coffee taken at the end of a hearty[222] meal is intended to act as a “settler” to the repast and to aid the work of digestion. This it does much more easily when clear than when “qualified” with milk or cream. Before drinking from a glass of water one should brush one’s lips with the corner of the napkin.

After the salad course at a dinner, and before the dessert is brought in, the waitress removes the crumbs from the table, using a tray or plate and folded napkin for this purpose. When she does this it is bad form for the guest to lay in the tray any bits of bread that may be left at his place or to assist the waitress by moving his glass, salt-cellar, or any other article that may be left on the table. A good waitress removes salt-cellars, pepper-cruets and such articles, before crumbing the table, leaving only the glasses at each place. It is her business to do all this so quietly and deftly that the guests are scarcely conscious of it. To further this end, let the whole affair be attended to by the waitress, and do not seem to notice any lapses on her part.

At the end of the meal the finger-bowls are used. The ends of the fingers are dipped in the water, and the lips touched with these; then mouth and hands are wiped upon the napkin which is left, unfolded, at the side of the plate, if one is taking only one[223] meal in the house. If a longer stay is expected, one may watch one’s hosts to see what they do with their napkins, and follow their example.

Dinner over, the hostess makes the movement to rise, and she, with the other ladies, proceeds to the parlor. There they are joined later by the gentlemen. At an informal or family dinner, the men and women may leave the table together, the men standing aside to let the women pass out first, and in the drawing-room cigars may be lighted by the men after they have asked permission of the women to smoke.

All these rules with regard to the company dinner apply to the family dinner as well. One can not be too careful in observing the laws of table etiquette in the family circle if one would be at ease in company.

One warning I would give to the hostess or homemaker: Do not apologize unless necessary! If a dish is a signal failure, say with an apologetic smile that you regret that such a thing was spoiled in the baking, or that you fear the meat is very rare, and, unless the matter can be remedied, let it go at that. You but embarrass your guests and put them to the disagreeable necessity of reassuring you, if you dwell upon the matter.

The host should never insist that one be served[224] to any dish after it has been positively declined. To do this is a mistake no matter how kindly the intention. There is an old saying that one man’s meat is another man’s poison. If your host insists, however, on helping you after your refusal, you must for decorum’s sake accept the food but you need do no more than taste it.

At a formal dinner one is not served a second time to any dish, but at an informal dinner, what are called “second helps,” are quite permissible and convey a compliment to the hostess. When a plate is sent back to the carver for a fresh supply of meat, the knife and fork should be laid side by side upon it, not held in the hand, as some persons insist. And when one has finished eating, the knife and fork are laid in the same manner upon the plate, the tines of the fork up.

The napkin must never be tucked into the neck of gown or shirt, nor must it be fastened to the belt or the waistcoat button. After one leaves the nursery one should be able to eat without a bib.

One of the characteristics of a well-appointed house is an abundance of fresh linen, including clean napkins, if possible, at every meal, certainly every day at dinner. A large napkin for dinner use is handsome, but it may be too large for convenience. No one wishes to be smothered by a “young table-cloth,”[225] as some one has called these immense serviettes. Breakfast napkins are distinctly smaller than dinner napkins.

At breakfast a blue and white service is often liked and is certainly pretty. At dinner the china may be as costly as one can afford. If the purse is limited, the plain white or gold-band is a good choice, making a quietly elegant appearance and being easily replaced.

In drinking coffee use the spoon to stir it slightly and to sip from, but never leave the spoon in the cup.

When a fowl is carved if your host asks which piece you prefer it is entirely correct to express a preference, and indeed you will probably embarrass him if you decline to do so.

A wine-glass should be lifted to the lips by the stem, not by the bowl.

A waitress should be cautioned against the common practise of handing dishes and particularly water glasses with the thumb stuck inside the rim.

Never tip the soup plate to get the last mouthful.

The nervous habit some people have of playing with the silver or crumbling bread on the cloth looks very bad.

Artichokes are broken apart with the fingers, the heart being conveyed to the mouth on the fork.

One should sit easily erect at table at a convenient[226] distance from the board. Do not sit on your spine.

If you are in doubt as to how to proceed with any course, take a cue from your hostess.

Eggs, when boiled, should be served in individual egg cups, opened by lightly cracking the top of the shell with the knife, and eaten from the shell by the aid of tiny egg spoons.

It should go without saying that when a dish is passed, one should always take the portion one touches; do not presume to make a choice of rolls or of fruit.

Never put salt on the cloth.

To attempt to assist the waitress by gathering together the articles before you, is a mistake. Leave that to her, and appear unconscious of her presence while she is so engaged.

To hand a dish across the table is distinctly bad form. This habit has been designated as “the boarding house reach.”

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CHAPTER XXIII
IN THE HOME

“AS a man thinketh in his heart, so is he,” declares the Book of books. And as a man is in his home, so will he be abroad, when the “company manner” rubs off.

One frequently becomes involved in some quite unexpected circumstance that scratches off the beautiful surface-coloring, if it be only as deep as the hue on the stained wood.

The manner that one puts on when one goes into a friend’s house, or dons when one is “in company,” is what may be called “adjustable courtesy.” If it is not made of the best material it seldom fits well.

Not long ago a friend drove with us by the house of a man whose society manners, when first seen, call forth admiration. Upon this particular spring afternoon, he sat upon the veranda of his home. As we approached, and he met our glance, he sprang to his feet, bowed low and remained standing until we had passed.

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“What a pretty attention to pay to two women!” we exclaimed.

Our friend gave a significant shrug, and called our notice to the fact that the man’s wife had, before we came by, driven up to the end of the veranda, and that she was, unaided, climbing from a high trap in which she and her two little girls had been driving, while her husband lolled at ease in a steamer chair. It took the presence of a woman who did not belong to him to bring him to his feet. Looking back, after we had passed, we noted that he had again resumed his lounging attitude, and that his wife was lifting the second child from the carriage.

Such is adjustable courtesy! It is not an every-day garment, and is, consequently, worn only to impress strangers.

No one can afford to do the injustice to his better self of allowing himself to become careless toward those with whom he lives, or to neglect the small sweet courtesies that should be found in the home, if anywhere. It is the home etiquette that makes the public etiquette what it should be. This reminder can not be repeated too often.

In many houses men forget to show the respect due to wife, mother and sisters. Parents should train their sons to stand when a woman enters the room, and to remain standing until she sits down.[229] The considerate husband rises and offers his wife the easy chair in which he is seated. She, knowing that he is weary after a hard day at the office, will not take the chair, but she will appreciate the little attention, and love him the better for it.

In the talk on table etiquette, we have touched on many points, but not on certain things that seem too petty to be mentioned, as it is not supposed that persons of polite breeding need to be reminded of them. It is only when one looks in on the home-life of some so-called “nice” people that one feels that perhaps after all to call attention to these points would not be superfluous.

One of these is the use of the toothpick. To wield this in company is barbarous; to produce it at table is disgusting. The idea of having a glass full of toothpicks upon the family board is as disagreeably suggestive, and more disgusting, than would be the presence of a bowl of water, flanked on one side by a cake of soap, on the other by a wash-cloth. Cleansing of all parts of the body should take place in the privacy of one’s own apartment or in the bath-room.

Tipping back the chair at table or in company is bad form. One small child was broken of this habit when she lost her balance while swaying backward[230] from the table on the two hind-legs of her chair, and gave her head a furious bump on the floor. Sobbing, she was lifted to her feet, and met the stern gaze of her father.

“I am very glad,” he said, “to see that you are badly enough hurt to be reminded never to tip your chair again. It is rude! If some grown persons I know had received a similar lesson in childhood, they might not offend the taste of others as they now do.”

Taking butter from one’s butter-plate with the tip of a fork that has been already in one’s mouth is another disagreeable trick. The like may be said of the same way of helping one’s self to salt. If a small butter-knife and salt-spoon are not provided, the tip of the knife may be used in their stead.

Bolting food and pushing back one’s chair without the preliminary and apologetic “Excuse me!” is the custom of some otherwise estimable householders. It would be better to eat less, if one’s time be limited, and eat slowly, as food thus taken in a rush is of small use in the internal economy. A few mouthfuls, well masticated, will possibly do more good, and certainly produce less discomfort, than three times as much swallowed in indigestible chunks. And after the short repast has been partaken[231] of, let the master of the house set the example of common decency by uttering the conventional “Excuse me!”

One hopes that it would be a difficult matter to find anybody so far oblivious of ordinary good manners as to clean his nails before others, but, let us blush to say it! one does meet many men who clean and pare their nails in the presence of family and intimate friends. Perhaps it is due to the fact that a woman does not carry a pocket-knife that she is seldom seen doing this. Her manicure instruments are kept upon her dressing-table, and it is in her own room that she performs this very necessary part of her toilet.

The ugly habit that many children acquire of biting the nails can be overcome by requiring them to wear gloves until they master it.

Young people should be taught that the question of age, in general conversation, is tabooed, that too much manner is as bad as too little, and that a good manner is even more to be desired than good manners. They should be instructed to say “Thank you,” not “Thanks,” to avoid “photo,” “auto,” etc., saying instead “photograph,” “automobile,” or better, “motor-car,” or simply “car.” “Crowd,” as “our crowd,” is very bad for “circle,” “set” or[232] “group of friends.” A girl should never say “hello,” and no one should use it at the telephone. “Good morning,” “yes,” “well” or the mention of one’s name are courteous methods of beginning a telephone conversation. “Waistcoat” is to be preferred to “vest.” Modern usage trains children to say “Yes, mother,” “Yes, Aunt Clara,” “No, Miss Smith,” instead of “Yes, ma’am,” “No, ma’am,” as of old. Only in the remoter districts of the South does the earlier fashion survive among grown people where it must be admitted to have a quaint charm. When a child sneezes, if he is well taught he will say quietly, “Excuse me.”

A rudeness that a man will perpetrate in his own home, from which he would shrink in the home of another person, is that of wearing his hat in the presence of women. Every mother should train the small boy of the house to remove his hat as soon as he enters the front (or back) door. To do this will then become second nature, and it would not be probable that he could ever be guilty of the rudeness of standing in hall or parlor and talking to mother, sister or other feminine relative with his hat on his head. One mother at least positively refuses to hear what her little son has to say if he addresses her with his head covered. One may regret that with older men other women have not the like[233] courage of their convictions. A man’s hat is so easily removed we wonder just why he should leave it on in the house, even if he is going out again in a moment. The man whose courtesy is not of the adjustable type will not do this, and these remarks are absolutely superfluous as far as he is concerned.

Nor will it be necessary to remind him to pick up the handkerchief, thimble, scissors or book that the woman in his presence lets fall,—even if she be his wife. To assist the feminine portion of humanity comes natural to the thoroughbred.

And just here I would say a word to the young person of the so-called weaker sex. It is to remind her that she, as well as her brother, owes the duty of respect to her elders. She is too prone to think that the boys of the family should rise for the older people, should remain standing until parents are seated, and should always be ready to run errands, or to deny themselves for their seniors. The duty to do all these things is incumbent on the girl or woman in the presence of those who are her elders or superiors. The girl or young matron who reclines in an easy chair, while her grandparent, mother, father, or woman-guest stands, is as guilty of rudeness as her brother would be were he to do the same.

It is not on the men alone that the etiquette of[234] the home depends. Indeed, it is the place of the mother to see that little lapses in good breeding are not overlooked. And she is the one who should, by her unselfishness, her gentle courtesy, and unfailing politeness in even the smallest items, show forth the spirit of true kindness, on which all good manners are founded.

We are all united in thinking that a well-trained voice ministers to the happiness of those about in a rare degree. Yet it is too infrequently remembered that the place to cultivate clear enunciation, low tones and amiable inflections is at home. Teachers in elocution and voice culture may do a large part in bringing out latent powers, but the foundation for the culture of the speaking voice should be laid at home. High shrill voices, choppy pronunciation, a nervous speaking manner will render unattractive matter of a high mental quality. Mothers should begin early and work late on this important matter of cultivating the voices of their children. Voice quality and enunciation, it should be realized, are more important than pronunciation. It is not a vital question whether a man pronounce the word “exquisite” with the accent on the first or the second syllable, but “childern” is a vulgarism, though one hears it often. Truly of one who uses it, it may be said, “his speech bewrayeth him.”

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Respect for books is one of the lessons to be taught in a properly regulated house. And by this phrase, I do not mean respect for the contents. That goes without saying. I mean respect for the proper care of those best ministers to minds and souls. Children should be taught to handle books carefully, to cut the leaves properly, to open books without breaking the leaves apart at the back. They should be instructed not to soil or to mark them and to put them back in place when not in use.

The person who lends books may keep a list of them, and it is not discourtesy if the volumes lent are not returned within a reasonable length of time to ask for them. Many people who are quick to borrow are careless about returning. The standard of ethics in regard to returning books is with many people as low as the general standard in regard to the return of umbrellas. A book-plate is a great aid to the possessor of a library in keeping it together. Moreover, a pretty book-plate seems to give a touch of individuality to one’s volumes. The next best thing to individual bindings and tooled leather is this slighter mark of identity in one’s library.

One thing that makes for peace and etiquette in the home is the recognition of the rights of others. For this reason one member of the family should never inquire into another’s correspondence, into[236] his engagements, social or otherwise, or ask questions even of his nearest and dearest. The fact that a man is one of a family, every member of which is dear to him, does not mean that he has no individuality, or that he must share the secrets of his friendships or business matters with any one. He should always feel in the home that any confidences he may care to give are most welcome, but that such confidences are never demanded or expected.

In recognizing these rights of others, one must remember that each person’s own room is sacred to himself. It is inexcusably rude for one member of a family to enter the room of any other member without first knocking at the door and receiving permission to “come in.” Each human being should feel that he has one locality that belongs to him, where he can be alone unless he decrees otherwise. To further this end the wife should knock at her husband’s door before she enters his room, and the husband should show her the same consideration, while brothers and sisters should always give the warning tap, which is virtually a request for permission to enter, before opening the door that the occupant of the room has closed.

Americans are much criticized for their fondness for rocking chairs. Certainly there are many of us who should learn to use them less violently. The[237] woman who rocks steadily back and forth while she is talking to her friends is lacking in the repose that is an essential element of charm. Equally bad habits are the snapping and unsnapping of a purse and twisting a handkerchief or a theater program into a roll. To hum below the breath when some one else is talking is extremely rude, and not less so when any two people are together.

For little girls, the courtesy of our grandmothers has been revived. It is certainly a charming mark of respect for them to show to older people.

A courtesy that should never be omitted is the asking of permission to open and read letters received while one is in conversation with others.

Children should be rigidly instructed not to ask for delicacies of food when they are visiting, otherwise they may become a nuisance.

The habit children often acquire at school, of sticking their lead pencils into their mouths to moisten them, is unhygienic and ugly, and should be broken up.

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CHAPTER XXIV
IN PUBLIC

THE subject of this chapter is so large that we almost despair of doing more than touch on a few of the many points it should cover.

Perhaps it would be well to give first a few rules for that most public of places,—the street.

The question as to the etiquette of raising the hat is one that demands attention,—and yet the rules are simple.

A man always uncovers his head completely when he returns a woman’s bow. He does the same when he meets a man he knows walking with a woman, whether she be known to him or not. When a man is walking or driving with a woman and she bows to a man or woman she meets, her escort lifts his hat. On parting with a woman he bares his head. If he stand and talk with her, he should hold his hat in his hand unless she asks him to cover his head, or unless the day be cold,—in which case he says, “Will you pardon me if I put on my hat?” Then, when he leaves her, he again uncovers.

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As a safe rule in whist is, “When in doubt, lead trumps,” so a safe rule for a man in public would be, “When in doubt, take off your hat.”

Some men of fine feeling take off their hats when a funeral procession passes them in the street, indeed in Europe this is an established custom. In the South, in this country, old-fashioned gentlemen sometimes raise their hats to each other. Abroad, men who pass women on a stairway invariably lift their hats. In hotel elevators, gentlemen always take off their hats when ladies are present,—some men do it in all elevators under these circumstances.

When a man meets a woman on the street, and wishes to talk with her for a moment, he should, if time allow, turn and walk a little way with her, rather than stop and thus hinder her. If he have a business engagement that makes this impossible, he should apologize for not doing so, in a few words, as—“Pardon me for not walking with you instead of stopping you, but my train leaves in fifteen minutes,” or, “I have an appointment in ten minutes.”

On a cold day, when a man stands talking with a woman with his head uncovered, she should say, “Pray put on your hat! I am afraid you will catch cold.” He should accede to her request, saying “Thank you!” as he does so.

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It is a woman’s place to bow first, when she meets a man. Unless they are old friends, the man does not lift his hat until he has received this sign of recognition from a woman.

Men who were called on to shake hands with women formerly murmured an apology for the glove, but this is no longer customary. A man waits for a woman to make the first move to shake hands unless he knows her very well.

When men meet each other on the street they may recognize each other as they please,—by a nod, a wave of the hand, or by touching the hat. For a man to touch his hat to a woman is an insult, unless he be a servant—as a coachman receiving an order from his mistress—when he acknowledges the order by touching the brim of his hat with his hand. Did more men appreciate that they were giving the “coachman’s salute” to a woman, mortification, if not courtesy, might prevent a repetition of the offense.

When a man is a woman’s escort and they board a street-car, she should, without comment, allow him to pay her fare. When they get on the same car by chance, she should make the move to pay her fare, but if the man hands the money to the conductor before she does so, she should simply bow[241] and say “Thank you!” To dispute about who shall pay car-fare is bad form.

Meaningless introductions in street-cars or other public places are to be avoided. It is not desirable to bring two people together in such a place unless some real purpose is served.

Women should be careful as to the way in which they sit. The woman who spreads her knees looks as awkward as the man who keeps his tightly together. Recently it became a fad in certain places for women to lounge in the street-car and to cross one knee upon the other. Needless to say, really well-bred women did not follow the fad. Even men who have been strictly trained will not cross the knees when calling on ladies.

When all seats are taken in a car and a woman enters, a gentleman will rise and give her his seat, lifting his hat as he does so, which courtesy she should always acknowledge by saying “Thank you!” cordially and audibly. Women are much criticized for taking seats in cars without an acknowledgment of the courtesy, and, undoubtedly, they often do. On the other hand, men as frequently, by turning their backs, make acknowledgment impossible.

If the car be full and a woman enters carrying a baby in her arms, any girl or young matron present[242] should resign her seat to the burdened passenger, unless some masculine passenger has manliness enough to do so. To the credit of human nature, be it said that we have never seen a mother with a child in her arms stand for two minutes, no matter how crowded the car might be.

Of course a young woman should resign her seat to an elderly woman, as she will do the same for a very old or infirm man.

The custom of a man and a woman walking arm in arm at night is rapidly falling into disuse. For couples to walk in this way in the daylight has not been customary for years, unless the woman be so aged or invalided as to need the support of her escort’s arm. Now, even after dark, there is hardly any need of a man’s arm for a woman’s guidance in the brilliantly lighted streets. If the couple be walking through a poorly illuminated street, or on a country road, or climbing a steep hill, the man offers the woman his arm. He should also do this at night when he holds an umbrella over her head. Even in the daylight, when they cross a crowded thoroughfare together, he should lightly support her elbow with his hand to pilot her over. He should never, unless they be members of the same family, take her arm in order to guide her.

In public a man must never attract a woman’s[243] attention by clutching her arm, or—odious action!—by patting her on the shoulder or back, or nudging her. If there is such a noise about them that the mere speaking her name in a low voice will not reach her ears, he may respectfully touch her on the arm saying at the same time, “Excuse me, please!” Personal liberties are always in poor taste, but never more vulgar than in a place where they are noted by all observers.

If a man escort a woman home, she may utter a brief “Thank you!” to him on parting with him. Profuse expressions of gratitude on such an occasion are bad form. On parting from him, after he has taken her to the theater, opera or any other entertainment, she may, when she bids him good night, say cordially, “I am indebted to you for a very pleasant evening,” and, if she wish, she may add, “We shall be glad to have you call at any time.”

A man must never linger at a woman’s door to utter his good-bys, or to speak a few final sentences. Door-step chats may do for nurse-maids and their attendants. They are out of place in higher circles. A man rings the bell for the woman he is accompanying, sees that she is safely admitted, and, if it be too late for him to enter the house for a few minutes, removes his hat, says good night and takes his leave.

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So much fun has been made of the custom that some women have of kissing each other in public places on meeting and parting, it is surprising that even gushing girls still adhere to the ridiculous fashion. When people embrace, let it be in the sanctity of the home, or where there are no amused observers. If a kiss has no meaning, then let Fashion do away with it; if it means tender affection, it is too sacred a token to be exchanged where dozens of people may look on and comment on it. It is hardly too sweeping an assertion to make when one says that among mere acquaintances, kisses are best omitted altogether. Do let us have some method of salutation for those we really love that is not given as frequently and freely to every chance acquaintance or casual friend! One woman declares that beyond her relatives there is no grown person she willingly kisses, except two women whom she has known for years, and she respects them too much to embrace them in the presence of an unsympathetic world. A warm hand-clasp will suffice until the people who love each other can be alone.

Of course there are exceptions to this rule, as to many others. When a man puts his family upon the train or boat which is to carry them from him, he will uncover his head, and kiss each one of the beloved group. Other such exceptions will suggest themselves. Common sense and good taste[245] should keep one from making a mistake in these matters.

It is in wretched form for a man to speak of a woman by her first name when talking to casual acquaintances. It is as bad form, or nearly as bad, for a woman to speak of a man by his last name, as “Brown” or “Smith.” It takes very little longer to say “Miss Mary” or “Mr. Brown,” and the impression produced is worth the extra exertion. Nor, unless they be members of the same family, does a man address a girl by her first name in a crowd of outsiders. In her home she may be “Mary” to him. In public, let him address her as “Miss Smith.”

One of the most annoying habits indulged in in public is that of being late at the theater. It is trying to have to lose whole lines of a play while one rises, gathering up bonnets and wraps to do so, to allow the belated person to pass who sits beyond one. It is a pity that theater-goers do not take more pains to show one another the kindness of being in their places before the curtain rises.

In entering a theater, the man stands aside to allow the woman to go into the door ahead of him, then steps forward to show his tickets to the usher, at the same time taking two programs from the[246] table, or from the boy holding them. The coupons are handed back to the man, and kept by him, in case any mistake should arise in regard to the seats. Then the woman follows the usher down the aisle, followed by her escort. In some western cities the man goes first down the aisle, standing aside to allow the woman to take the inner seat. It is well for both men and women to remove their coats and wraps, either in the vestibule of the theater or before going into their seats. After sitting down, the woman takes off her hat and holds it in her lap throughout the performance.

A better custom in theaters large and modern enough to have ample dressing-rooms is for the woman to remove all her wraps there. The house looks much prettier than when each woman is piled with her belongings, the woman is more comfortable, and she has had besides the opportunity of a glance in the mirror at her hair. If she is at all sensitive to drafts she may prefer to take a light scarf with her as when the curtain rises there is often a very cold air, especially on those sitting close to the stage. In most cities in this country women do not wear full dress unless they are to sit in a box.

At all evening entertainments a woman’s head is uncovered. A woman who retains her hat even[247] when sitting in a box inevitably suggests that she wishes to be conspicuous. If a woman is invited to be one of a box-party she need not bother to go to the dressing-room, as in most cases each box has hooks on which cloaks may be hung and a mirror convenient for the single glance that is desired.

The same rules hold good with regard to a musicale or a concert.

I wish there were any chance that anything anybody might say could impress on women that their habit of talking or, worse still, whispering, during a musical performance is abominably rude! Let those who have suffered by this almost universal practise testify to the misery it causes. To have one’s favorite passage from a beloved composer marred by “Now this is where he dies, you know,” or “Just hear the thunder in that orchestra, and now just listen to the chirping of the dear little birds!” or,—“I don’t think I can lunch with you to-morrow, dear, but perhaps the next day,” “Do you think those long coats are becoming to short women?”—who that has undergone the agony of being in the vicinity of such a talker can fail to utter a fervent “Amen” to the frenzied petition that they be suppressed.

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The person who has seen the play before and who obligingly keeps his neighbors informed of what is coming next is an equal offender.

At public meetings when the national hymn is played, it is proper for every one to stand and to remain standing until it is ended.

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CHAPTER XXV
HOTEL AND BOARDING-HOUSE LIFE

THERE is no better place than a hotel in which to study the manners, or lack of manners, of the world at large. It is here that selfishness is rampant, and unselfishness hides its diminished head.

Before we discuss the ethics of hotel life it will be well to give a few general directions as to what one does from the time one enters the door of the building which will, for a long or short time, be his place of abode. He proceeds at once to the office, makes known his desires with regard to a room or rooms, and writes his name in the register handed to him by the clerk. He is then assigned to his room, and a page directs him thither, carrying hand luggage. To this page he hands his trunk-check, and the trunk is soon brought to his room.

Upon the inside of the door in every hotel room is tacked a set of rules of the house, and these are in themselves sufficient to instruct our uninitiated traveler in most of what is expected of him. He[250] here learns that the hotel is not responsible for valuables left on the bureau or table of the room, that the guest is requested to keep his trunk locked, and to lock his door upon going out, and to leave his key at the office; that valuable papers and jewelry can be left in the safe of the hotel; at what hours meals are served and so on. All these directions the considerate person will observe. None of them is unreasonable. There are many things for which no printed rules are given which are none the less essential to the correctness of demeanor on the part of a guest.

Loud talking is one of the things to be avoided. One must remember that in a hotel more than in any other place is the warning of the Frenchman likely to be proved true,—“The walls themselves, my lord, have ears!” Each room has another room next to it, and the partitions are thin. The transoms all open upon a general hall in which can be heard any loud remark spoken in any one of the rooms. If one does not discuss affairs one wishes kept secret, one must bear in mind the fact that other people may be annoyed while resting, reading or talking, by fragmentary bits of conversation wafted to them. At the hotel table one must also bear this in mind. Loud talking in a public place stamps the speaker as a vulgarian, or a person[251] who has seldom been outside of his own home, and has never learned to modulate his voice.

On entering a hotel dining-room, the traveler pauses until the head waiter, or one of his assistants, indicates a table at which he may sit. If this table be too near the radiator or window, or otherwise undesirable, the guest may courteously ask if he can not be placed in another locality. When a man and a woman are together the man enters the room first, and leads the way to the table, on the first occasion of their taking a meal at the hotel. After that, if they occupy the same table each day, the woman enters the room first and proceeds to her seat, followed by the man. He, or the waiter, draws back her chair for her and seats her. The man, of course, remains standing until she is seated.

The menu card is handed to the man, with a pad or slip of paper and pencil. Upon this, after discussion with the woman, he writes his order. As a rule he orders the entire meal, except the dessert, at once. The sweets can be decided on later.

I wish I could impress on the minds of persons in a hotel that it is wretched form to criticize audibly the viands set before them. The person sitting[252] near you is not edified to hear you remark that the soup is wretched, the beef too rare, the coffee lukewarm. If you have any fault to find, do so to the waiter and in such a tone that the other guests can not hear it.

Above all, do not scold the waiter for that for which he is not to blame. He does not purchase the meat, nor does he fry the oysters. Show him that you appreciate this fact, and ask him politely if he can not get you a better cut, or oysters that are not burned. Some persons seem to think that it elevates them in the opinion of observers if they complain of what is set before them. They fancy, apparently, that others will be impressed with the idea that they are accustomed to so much better fare at home than that they now have that it is a trial for them to descend to the plane on which others are eating. The fact of the case is that the person who is accustomed to dainty fare, and to even-threaded living, is too well-bred to call the attention of strangers to the fact.

While we are on this subject it would be well to remind the thoughtless person that when he dines with a friend at that friend’s hotel, on his invitation, he is a guest. It is therefore rude for him to comment unfavorably on the dishes on the table. When, under such circumstances, a guest says to[253] his host pro tem., “My dear fellow, they do not give you good veal here!” or, “Are you not tired of the mean butter you eat at this hotel?” he is criticizing in an offensive manner the best that his host can offer him, since he has no house of his own in which to entertain. The guest should act as if it were his friend’s private table, and forbear to criticize fare or service.

One of the often unconsidered items of expense in hotel life is the “tips” that one must give. In no other place is one’s hand so often in one’s pocket. A porter carries a bag, and he must be tipped; another carries up a trunk, he must be tipped; one rings for iced water, and the boy bringing it expects his ten cents; one wants hot water every morning, and in notifying the chambermaid of this fact, must slip a bit of silver into her palm. The waiter at one’s table must be frequently remembered, and the head waiter will give one better attention if he finds something in his hand after he shows the new arrival to a table, and, of course, on leaving, one will also give a fee. So it goes! When, however, one is staying by the week at a hotel, “tips” need be given only once a week,—unless some unusual favor is asked. We may rebel against the custom, and with reason. But as not one of us can alter the state of affairs, it is well[254] to accept it with a good grace, or reconcile one’s self to indifferent service.

The matter of children in a hotel is one on which so much has been said and written that there is little left to say. At the first glance one is tempted to resent the fact that many hotel proprietors object to having children accompany their parents to the public table, and that some even demur at their presence in the house. Child-lovers have said bitterly that the celestial “many mansions” seem to be the only abodes in which the little ones are welcome,—and all these opinions have a great deal of truth on their side. But it is not until one has undergone the annoyance of ill-governed children in a house where there are no restrictions enforced on them that one sees the other side of the shield. One large boarding-house at a fashionable summer resort is popular to mothers of large families because the proprietor does not object to children. A guest there last season decided that if that were the case said proprietor had no nerves. She soon learned that childless guests declined to stay at the place. Children raced up and down the long corridors, screaming as they went; they played noisily outside of bedroom doors; they ate like little pigs at the hotel tables. In short, they[255] made the house a purgatory for all except other children and their mothers.

There are two types of mothers in this land of ours that are greatly at fault. One is the mother who hands the management of the children over to a nurse or several nurses, and she is, of course, the rich woman whose children see her seldom, and that not often enough to bother her. The other type is the woman who has nerves toward all things except her own children’s noise. She is such a doting parent that she is, to all appearances, blind and deaf to the fact that her own offspring drive to the verge of insanity other “grown-ups” with whom they come in contact. Verily the American youngster is having everything his own way in private and public nowadays! Dwellers in hotels are to be pardoned if they beg that he be kept in private until his parents learn to govern him, and by thus doing, show mercy to other people.

While the rules that govern propriety should be adhered to everywhere, there is no other place where they should be more strictly observed than at the summer hotel, or the boarding-house of a fashionable watering-place. It may not be an exaggeration to state that there are few decent places where they are more openly disregarded. With the trammels of city life one seems to lay down[256] an appreciation of the fitness of things generally. The free intercourse, the rapidly-made acquaintances, the mingling of many sorts of peoples in the huge caravansary—tend to make us cast aside conventionalities. Husbands, running down from the city for a Sunday with their wives, find them absorbed and happy in the gay life about them, and quite sufficient unto themselves when the husbands return to counting-room and office on Monday morning. There is always a class of men who, having nothing else to do, are habitués of the summer hotel, where they flirt with the wives of other men and make themselves generally useful and talked about.

There may be no harm in all this sort of thing, but it is well for the discreet maiden and matron to avoid giving any cause for the enemy to blaspheme,—in other words, for the gossip to make herself busy and dangerous. To this end, late hours in shaded corners of verandas, moonlight sails and walks, and beach-promenades well on toward midnight, are to be shunned. While these may be innocent per se, they give rise to scandal. The young girl may always have a chaperon to whom to refer as to the proprieties, but it is not the young girl who is most talked about. The married woman whose husband lets her have her own way is a law unto herself, and she must be careful[257] not to make that law too lax. It takes very little to set silly tongues wagging; it takes months and years to check the commotion they have made.

Promiscuous intimacies at summer resorts are a great mistake. Unless a woman knows all about a fellow guest, she should not get into the habit of running into her room, or of talking with her as with a lifelong friend. She may be pleasant toward all, and intimate with none.

It is a well-known fact that there is no other hotbed of gossip equal to a hotel or a boarding-house. Women, released from the cares and anxieties of housekeeping and home-making, turn their time and thoughts to fancy work and scandal. Each arrival runs the gantlet of criticism and comment, and afterward becomes the subject of “confidential” conversations upon veranda and in parlors. Here, as everywhere else, work that will occupy the mind is a sovereign cure for this habit. One can usually sit in one’s own room, but if one does not, there is always a book to be read in parlors or on the veranda, which will show the would-be gossip or retailer of scandal that one is too much occupied to engage in conversation.

Certainly in a hotel no one lives unto himself, but each must consider the comfort of his neighbor. Such a semi-public life is at the best a poor[258] substitute for a home existence. Two rules to be observed will make other rules of hotel or boarding-house etiquette sink into insignificance compared with their importance.

First: Do nothing that will make others uncomfortable.

Second: Pay attention to your own business, and pay no attention to that of other people.

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CHAPTER XXVI
IN THE RESTAURANT

THE woman who, for the first time, is taken to dinner in a large restaurant is naturally slightly confused by the experience. She needs, however, to know only a few essential points in order to be able to conduct herself with propriety and to enjoy her evening. She and the man who has taken her will leave their wraps in charge of the maid or hat man at the door. If she has worn a hat, she will retain this, but if she has gone in a carriage or a car with only a light scarf about her head, she need not be embarrassed, for many of the women in the room will be without head-gear. In this country, it is not customary for women dining in public places to wear gowns cut more than slightly low.

When the two are shown to their table, the woman should remove her gloves, keeping them in her lap or perhaps putting them on an empty chair that is near. Neither the gloves nor a hand-bag should ever be placed on the table. The man[260] should do the ordering, but as he will consult his guest’s wishes, she should be prepared to express these definitely and with sufficient promptness not to keep the waiter standing too long. Unless something very elaborate is desired, a plate of raw oysters, a little fish or a bit of bird, a salad and a sweet with coffee, with the things that go with them, will suffice. The custom as to ordering is not the same in all restaurants and if two women be alone, the one who is acting as hostess should ask whether the waiter wants the entire order at once or not. Usually a slip of paper and pencil are given which saves the possibility of mistake on the part of the waiter. Frequently, the portions of meat and salad and of some other dishes are abundant for two persons, but it will be well to make a friend of the waiter to the extent of asking if this is the case.

The habit of certain fussy people when eating in a restaurant of wiping off their plates before they are served is intolerable—and foolish. It is unpleasant for other people,—besides, if the plates are not clean, there is no ground for faith in the napkins.

To snap the fingers at a waiter is to stamp one’s self as a vulgarian.

Order within your means and display no anxiety[261] when toward the end of the meal the waiter lays your bill face downward on the table. When you are ready to pay it, satisfy yourself that it is correct and place on the waiter’s tray a sum sufficient to cover it and the amount of the tip custom says you must give. If a mistake has been made, a quiet word will usually prove a sufficient remedy.

For the benefit of the woman, who for the first time is confronted with the elaborate menu card of an expensive restaurant, the following explanation of terms is given:

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CHAPTER XXVII
WHEN TRAVELING

THE selection of proper receptacles for one’s baggage is the first point to be considered in making preparations for a journey. The trunk-makers offer great variety in the material, quality and price of their wares. The indispensable requisite of a trunk, whatever be the material of its composition, is that it shall be strong. Look well to hinges, lock and corners before buying. A trunk that will not stand wear and tear is not worth having. One need not purchase an expensive trunk, but one can not afford to purchase a cheap one. The material employed must be good, though the appearance need not be luxurious. If one can afford the price, one may find trunks where separate trays are provided for each gown or where indeed frocks may be hung at full length and come forth at the end of a journey as they might come from my lady’s closet. But for those who can not or do not care to put sizable sums of money into the carriers[269] of their clothes, there are good sensible receptacles at a moderate price. A steamer trunk, by reason of its shape and size, is a convenient general-purpose piece of baggage and is especially to be commended for short journeys.

The bag one selects has much to do with one’s comfort in traveling. It should be large enough to hold a nightrobe, a kimono, one’s toilet articles, also an extra shirt-waist and a change of underclothing in case of detention. The size of the bag is important. It must not be so large that it is a burden to carry if necessity compels. It must not be so small that the articles mentioned may not rest comfortably and without crowding within. As with trunks, so in bags, one finds a large variety in values. It pays to get a good bag of nice leather, conveniently arranged for carrying the articles necessary to one’s comfort. Such a bag, one that pleases the eye and in which one may find one’s things without a distracting search for them, gives an amount of satisfaction to a traveler beyond the power of words to convey. One of the most acceptable gifts that can be made to a person who is not of the stay-at-home type is a generously fitted traveling-bag. As thousands of bags are made precisely alike, the stamping of one’s initials at the end or side may save time and trouble.

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One should wear dark inconspicuous clothing in traveling, and of a weight suitable to the season of the year. Beflowered hats, light gowns, light gloves—unless these are washable—and jewelry are in the worst of taste and proclaim the unsophisticated or the parvenu. To be dressed comfortably and modestly is the aim of the experienced traveler. In summer a dark silk dress of light weight with a silk rain-coat makes an ideal traveling costume, as neither holds dust. A woman so attired will arrive at the end of her journey in much better condition than her less experienced companion who clings to white (?) blouses. If a fresh veil and a pair of white gloves are tucked into her bag to be put on at the last moment, she will be charmingly immaculate. A black silk bag for the protection of one’s hat is a good idea though most Pullmans supply paper sacks for this purpose.

If possible, it is well on a journey to carry with one something more in the way of money than one’s traveling expenses. One can not tell what emergency may arise or what unexpected demands may be made upon one. Many women carry the funds not immediately in use, in some sort of pocket fastened on or made into the petticoat they wear. One can buy very pretty separate pockets of this sort made of leather or one can make them of a[271] stout silk fastened down by a clasp on the flap. Elaborate preparation in caring for one’s wealth is the penalty a woman pays for being without pockets in her clothes. While it is wise for her to put the funds unnecessary for immediate use in some such safe place as that described, she should not keep articles which she may be at any moment called upon to deliver, in a spot which it is embarrassing for her to reach. Train conductors and baggage agents have many a grin and sly smile over the woman who must reach under her petticoat before she can deliver up ticket and trunk checks. An amusing instance of this overcaution, so much more characteristic of women than of men, occurs to the writer. An acquaintance, starting on a European voyage, took the most elaborate means for the hiding of her valuables upon her person. In transit she stayed the night at a New York hotel and woke in the morning to discover, to her horror, that she had slept all night with the door of her room unlocked and the key on the outside. A considerable amount of change in a separate purse from one’s bills is a convenience and a safeguard.

A man may, if he chooses, make acquaintances on a journey, and a woman also, though with less frequency and freedom. The exigencies of travel may sometimes make it pleasant for her to render or[272] receive aid from another woman or possibly a man; and this may be the starting-point for acquaintance. As a usual thing, it is best for a young girl traveling alone, to avoid all communication with strangers, as she can not know into what complications it may lead her.

If one is making a journey that compels night travel, one must secure one’s section or half-section in the Pullman or sleeper beforehand. In order to get good accommodations it is well to do this several days in advance. The difficulty of getting into an upper berth makes most women choose the lower, though it is more costly and decidedly stuffier. When one climbs aboard a train the porter follows with one’s belongings, finds one’s section or half-section and deposits the hand luggage in its place. Some travelers are very thoughtless in appropriating more than their share of the space appointed for wraps, bags, etc. If one has paid for a half-section only, one has no right to take more than that, unless the other half of the section remains unsold.

When a traveler wishes his bed made up he should summon the porter and so declare. Usually an electric bell between the windows of his section will enable him to call the porter at any time. If the traveler is a woman and is for any reason dissatisfied with her berth or section, she may consult with the[273] porter about a change which, if the car is not full, he is often able to arrange for her. For instance, if a woman having a lower section finds that the upper is to be occupied by a man, it is often possible, by the payment of a small sum to the porter, to move her quarters.

Many women who find themselves compelled for the first time to take a sleeping-car, feel timid at the prospect. But the process is simple though not necessarily comfortable. Once behind the curtains a woman may remove all her clothing precisely as she does at home if she feel equal to the physical ordeal of putting it on again in a crowded space in the morning to the accompaniment of rapid motion and the nausea it often induces. Unless one is a good traveler, it may be preferable to remove one’s dress, pinning the skirt to the inside of the curtain to save its freshness, putting small articles in the swinging hammock next the windows and for the rest merely loosening bands. Directly above the head one will find in all first-class trains a button that when pressed will give a light by which one can read or which will help one the better to endure an hour of nervous wakefulness. A small bottle of brandy or spirits of ammonia is carried by delicate women to ward off train sickness. A woman should not hesitate to summon the porter for extra covers, a glass[274] of water or any other service that contributes to her real comfort. To send for him with too great frequency shows lack of experience and consideration. If one is to be called before daylight it is wise to give one’s self ample time for dressing and so the porter should be instructed to call one at a certain time considerably ahead of the hour for leaving the train. Experienced women travelers do not don white night-dresses in sleeping-cars, but keep a dark silk robe for this purpose, insuring equal comfort and a better appearance in case of illness or accident.

There are many small offices for which one may call upon the porter if so inclined. One must, however, keep it in mind that he should be rewarded proportionately at the end of the journey after he has performed his last office of brushing one off. Twenty-five cents is the usual amount given to him for the services rendered in twenty-four hours. An occasional wary traveler bestows his tip for the first rather than the last service asked. If a porter appears sullen this method will be found to have advantages.

Before leaving one’s berth in the morning, one should, as far as possible, get into one’s undergarments over which one slips a bathrobe or kimono before going to the toilet-room. One should take[275] with one to the toilet comb, brush, tooth-brush, clothes-brush, wash-cloth, a cake of soap (it is never wise to use the public cake) and the gown one intends wearing, with its accessories. All the toilet articles should be carried in a silk waterproof “companion,” or better still, in a crash apron with rubber-lined pockets for soap and towels, to be tied about the waist. Arrived there one should be as expeditious as possible in order not to keep others waiting. One woman’s selfishness in out-staying her time in the toilet-room may keep ten others in misery. It is not the time and place for a complete bath. Nowhere is the quality of true courtesy more needed than in the toilet-room of a Pullman. When one has finished one’s ablutions, combed one’s hair and fastened one’s gown, one should clean the basin and place the soiled towels out of the way. When one leaves the room it should be ready for the next comer.

When the announcement is made that breakfast, dinner or luncheon, as the case may be, is served, the passenger makes his way to the diner. If this is crowded he must wait his time patiently and with courtesy to those about him. Sometimes the meal is served a la carte (literally, by the card), in which case a separate charge is made for each article on the bill of fare or menu. (Menu, by the way, is[276] pronounced “may-noo,” not “meyn-you” as one often hears it.) Many dining-cars serve meals table d’hote (tah-bul-dote) and for these a fixed charge of one dollar is made. Some train dinners are very good indeed, others are execrable. If a dish is particularly bad and one complaint does not produce a better, the diner should not brow-beat his waiter—who is not to blame—but may if he choose speak to the steward in charge. Having been served he should fee the waiter. The usual fee is one-tenth the price of the meal, though men, more frequently than women, give more than this.

Arrival in a strange city is bewildering to a person who has traveled little. There are always, however, in the city railway stations, bureaus of information where one may find out the necessary things. If one is desirous of a cab, one may discover there the most trustworthy line; or, if a car is wanted, what direction one must take to find the proper one. Usually the traveler, if intending to go to a hotel, will have made himself acquainted, before arrival in the city, with the relative value and expense of the different ones. A person is much better treated at such places if he writes or telegraphs ahead for accommodations. A woman should choose the side entrance, if there is one, as this is reserved for ladies. If a woman arrives in a strange city, unaccompanied,[277] it is sometimes difficult for her to get the hotel accommodations she desires. At some hotels they will not admit unaccompanied women after nightfall. Under these circumstances the traveler would better go to the hostelries established by the Young Women’s Christian Association, where she may feel certain of the character of the place and entertainment. These places invariably require that one shall be introduced and one will do well, therefore, to take a letter from one’s clergyman. The length of one’s stay is usually limited but it is sufficient for the ordinary holiday or shopping visit.

If you are arriving in a city and expect to be “met,” do not, if you can possibly avoid it, take a train that pulls in at an unearthly hour of the night or early morning. If you must take such a train, tell your hostess she is not to meet you, that you will stay the night at a down-town hotel or at least will take a carriage. An intelligent woman need have no fear of danger in arriving in a strange city alone. She may possibly be annoyed by a bold stare, even by a question, but the chances are that if she be quiet in dress and manner she will not suffer even inconvenience.

Policemen and station officials are always willing to answer the questions of perplexed travelers. A[278] little fee sometimes helps them speak more eloquently. It is not wise to depend upon the chance passer-by for information. The person whose business it is to inform you is not likely to tell you what is untrue. Of him you have a right to expect something. Of others you have a right to expect nothing, and you may come in for less than the value of your expectations.

The general etiquette of steamboat travel does not differ from that on board a train. Boat travel is of a more leisurely sort and begets somewhat less formality as relates to one’s fellow travelers. Otherwise the rules of behavior are the same.

As a parting injunction to the traveler, let me say,—don’t look worried, cross and over-careful even if you feel that way. Courtesy to subordinates will win you attention and service, will straighten out your difficulties more quickly than any other method. If you take the ills of traveling with some sense of humor, with a give-and-take spirit, you will get more than the benefit of the money your journey may cost you. If you do not carry an elastic spirit with you, the finest trip that ever was planned will bring you little return.

A woman who travels abroad must remember that the rules of chaperonage are much stricter in[279] Europe than they are in this country, and that she is expected to have a companion or a maid. If she wishes to dispense with these, she must reconcile herself to foregoing social invitations. If she makes inquiry she can always learn of particularly desirable pensions where she may count on finding among the guests a congenial person to accompany her on many of her short excursions.

On board the steamship the luckiest passengers in the dining-salon are those who are fortunate enough to be allotted seats at the captain’s table.

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CHAPTER XXVIII
IN SPORT

SPORT, scientists tell us, is a relic of prehistoric pursuits; and the so-called sporting instinct is a stirring of the primeval nature within civilized breasts. Perhaps that is why more people forget the first tenets of good breeding when competing in various forms of outdoor exercise than in nearly all the other walks of life put together.

The man who would view with an amiable smirk the spilling of a glass of Burgundy over his white waistcoat at a dinner, will often exhibit babyish rage at the breaking of a favorite golf-club or the stupidity of a caddie. The girl whose self-control permits her to smile and murmur: “It’s really of no consequence!” when a dance-partner’s foot tears three yards of lace off her train, will seldom show the same calm good-humor when her opponent at tennis serves balls that are too swift and too hard-driven for her to return.

There are many concrete and a few general rules[281] for behavior in sport of all sorts, the observance or neglect of which denotes the “thoroughbred” or the boor far more accurately than would a week full of ordinary routine.

The general rules apply to every form of sport. They are, briefly:

First, last and always—keep your temper! Remember the word “sport” means “pastime.” When it becomes a cause of annoyance or impatience, or an occasion for loss of temper, it misses its true aim and you are not worthy to continue it.

Second; the “other fellow” has quite as much right to a good time as you have. Do not play selfishly, or vaunt your superiority over him. In all contests, show no elation at victory, or chagrin at defeat. This is the first and great law. Its observance differentiates the true sportsman from the mere sporting-man.

Third; play fairly. The man or girl who will take an undue advantage of any description over an opponent, not only breaks the most sacred rules of good breeding, but robs himself or herself of the real enjoyment of the game.

Fourth; no sport in which people of breeding can participate demands loud talking, ill-bred language or actions, or the abridgment of any of the small sweet courtesies of life.

To sum up,—good breeding, fairness, self-control[282] and patience are needful equipments. Without any and all of these no man or woman should take part in sports.

Golf, perhaps, more than any other outdoor pastime, demands a thorough and judicious blend of the foregoing qualities. The old story of the Scotch clergyman, whose conscience would not allow him to continue both golf and the ministry, and who therefore abandoned the latter, was of course an exaggeration. But the idea it expresses is by no means absurd. When a crowd of people throng the links—when novice and adept, crank and mere exercise-seeker are jumbled together in seeming confusion—it is not always easy to keep a cool head, a sweet temper and a resolution neither to give nor to take offense.

Many a golf-player errs in behavior less through ill-intent than through heedlessness and ignorance of what the etiquette of the occasion demands. Such enthusiasts may profit by the ensuing rules which cover the more salient points of decorum, and which may enable the beginner to avoid many a pitfall:

When two players “drive off” from the tee they should always wait until the couple in front of them have made their second shot and walked off from it. Thus confusion is averted and the proper distance[283] maintained. It is a simple rule, but one often broken.

Three players should always let a pair of players pass them. Not only should they grant the desired position, but they should offer to do so before the question, “May we pass?” can be asked. The pair in question should (in case such permission is not volunteered) ask politely to be allowed to move forward. The yell of “Fore!” is all the strict rules of the game demand, but the rules of breeding should come first.

A single player must give way to all larger parties. This is but fair, since golf is, preeminently, a match; and those actively engaged in the contest should have the right of way over a man who is merely practising. The “single player” must recognize and yield with good grace. If he desires unobstructed practise, let him choose some time when the links are vacant.

Never drive on the “putting green” when other players are there “putting out.” Players should not neglect to get off the green the moment they have “holed out.” The place is not intended as an isle of safety, or a club-house corner where scores may be computed, gossip exchanged, or the work of others watched.

If you are at the tee waiting for others to “drive[284] off,” never speak, cough, or in any way distract the attention of the player who is addressing the ball. Inconsiderate or ill-bred people in this way spoil hundreds of good drives and thousands of good tempers every year.

When a man and a woman are playing golf, the latter should always be allowed to precede on the first drive off from the first tee.

A man, playing against a woman, should not allow himself to get too far ahead of her. Do not leave her to plod on alone. This same rule applies when playing with another man. Do not go after the ball after a drive until your opponent drives. Then walk together in pursuit. Never go ahead of your partner.

Use no undue haste in golf. Never run!

If you are not employing a caddie, always offer to carry the clubs of the woman with whom you are playing. In the same circumstances offer to make the tee from which she is to drive off. It is optional with her whether or not to accept your offer.

When you have no caddie allow players who have caddies to pass you. They will go faster than you and should have the right of way.

Never make unfavorable criticisms of others’ play. Never, above all, laugh at any of their blunders.

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Automobiling has so increased in popularity that it is almost a national pastime. And with its growing favor has sprung up a noxious and flourishing crop of bad manners. There seems to be something about the speed, the smell of gasoline or the sense of superiority over slower vehicles, that robs many an otherwise well-bred automobilist of all consideration. Yet the utmost consideration is due, not only to mere mortals but to fellow “motormen.”

Common humanity, as well as civility, should always prompt a chauffeur to stop at sight of a disabled car and to ask if he can be of assistance; to offer the loan of any necessary tools or extra gasoline; or even, if necessary, to volunteer a “tow.”

Do not presume on the community of interests to address the chauffeur or passengers of a passing car, any more than the passengers of one ordinary vehicle would address those of another. Do not stare at another’s car, nor, if at a standstill, examine the mechanism. This is the height of rudeness. The fact that you are so lucky as to own a car gives you no license to investigate the workings of another man’s machine, or in other ways to make yourself obnoxious.

When passing a car of inferior horse-power, do not choose that moment to exhibit your own greater speed. Be careful also not to give such a car your[286] dust nor (so far as you can avoid) to sicken its occupants with the smell of your motor’s gasoline.

Do not boast of the phenomenal runs you have made. You are not a record-holder. And when you become one, the newspapers will gladly exploit the fact without any viva voce testimony from you.

When meeting a horse vehicle watch closely to see if the horse shows signs of fear. If he does, completely stop your car, and if the driver of the horse be a woman, dismount and lead the horse past your car.

Do not violate the speed ordinance. The ordinance was made for public safety, not to spite you. Do not frighten animals or pedestrians, nor carelessly steer too near to some farmer’s live stock which may happen to be in the road. Remember the owner of the chickens or dogs you may run over is helping to pay for the smooth road you are traversing. The road is partly his, and you are in a measure his guest.

Tennis offers fewer opportunities for “breaks” than do many other of the sports of the hour. Yet good breeding is here as necessary as when playing any other game.

If you have a woman for a partner and it is her “serve,” do not neglect to pick up and hand her the balls before each service. Second her more carefully[287] than if she were a man, and take charge of the extra balls for her.

If a woman is your opponent, remember she has not the strength and endurance of a man. Serve gently. Do not slam balls over the net at cannonball speed and force. Oppose only moderate strength to her lesser power. Give her the benefit of the doubt in case of a “let,” or when the ball may or may not be over the back line.

In “double service” do not serve the second ball until she has recovered her position from pursuing the first. The choice of rackets should also, of course, be hers; and any work, such as putting up the nets, hunting the lost ball, and so on, devolves on you.

The yachtsman is of two classes,—the man who delights in the dangers and seamanship incident on a cranky “wind-jammer” in a heavy sea, and the man whose boat is a floating club-house. Both types are prone to forget at times that their guests are not so enthusiastic as themselves; that they may be nervous or inclined to seasickness, and that the amusements of their host may not always appeal to them. The man who would never think of causing inconvenience to a guest on land will show impatience or lack of sympathy at that same guest’s timidity or mal de mer, when afloat.

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The same rules of behavior that obtain between host and guest ashore should prevail on the yacht. The tastes of the latter should be as scrupulously considered and his or her likes and dislikes be as considerately met.

Similar laws of social usages apply to boating and canoeing. “The fool that rocks the boat” has received so many warnings and such just and wholesome condemnation that there is no use wasting further words on him. No man who values the safety and comfort of his companion will do anything to imperil either. A man should always offer to row, but should give the girl who is with him the option of doing so if she wishes. He should hold the boat steady for her and assist her to embark, having previously arranged the cushions in the stern and made all other possible plans for her comfort.

The course they are to take should always be left to her choice, and her wishes should be consulted in every way. A girl would also do well to remember that the man who has taken her boating is doing all the work and is trying to give her a pleasant time. She should meet him half-way, and should try to repress any nervousness she may experience in being on the water and should welcome the opportunity[289] to help when occasionally requested by her “skipper” to “trim boat.”

Swimming is essentially a man’s sport. While many women are good swimmers, they usually lack the strength and endurance to make them men’s equals in this line. A man should therefore be careful to avoid overtaxing the strength of the girl who is swimming with him; should be content to remain near the shore if she so desire, and, in surf-bathing, should lift her over the breakers, or try to shield her from their force.

In teaching others to swim, infinite patience, good temper and tact are needful. Allow for the nervousness and awkwardness which are the almost inseparable attributes of beginners.

In driving always ask your companion if she or he would prefer to handle the reins. Do not, by bursts of speed, or by “fights” with a fractious horse, endanger the safety or composure of your guest.

In riding horseback, never remain mounted when addressing some friend who is on foot. If your initial salute is to be followed by any conversation, dismount and remain on foot until you take your[290] leave. In helping a girl to the saddle, extend your hand that she may place her left foot in the palm, and on the same instant that you raise the hand she will spring into the saddle; always adjust the curb and snaffle, hand them to her and arrange her riding-habit before you mount your own horse.

Cross-saddle riding for women is now so common that it is generally accepted. Still a girl who makes a visit where she expects to ride should make sure her hostess approves this method before she adopts it. Those who hold that a lady should use a side-saddle feel strongly on the subject.

There are countless pitfalls for the unwary in all forms of sport; but none that can not be readily bridged by consideration for others, by good temper, and by the commonest rules of breeding. One general rule for all sports and games is, do not take part unless you can play reasonably well. To do so otherwise is sure to embarrass you and to interfere with the pleasure of others.

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CHAPTER XXIX
MRS. NEWLYRICH AND HER SOCIAL DUTIES

WE have ridiculed our newly-rich woman’s fads, pretensions and failures so sharply and for so long that we find it hard to do justice to the solid virtues she often possesses. The average specimen is fair game, and we—one and all, from the gentlest to the most sarcastic—unite in “setting her down.”

Except perhaps the mother-in-law, no other woman supplies fun-makers with such abundant—and cheap—material. She might retaliate on her persecutors more frequently than she does by attributing much of the ridicule, fine and coarse, heaped on her, to envy, far meaner than the meanest of her pretensions.

Thus much for the average specimen at her worst. The exceptions to the ignoble parvenu are numerous enough to form a class by themselves. It is not a disgrace in this country of dizzying down-sittings and bewildering uprisings, for miner, mechanic,[292] merchant or manufacturer to make money fast. It is to his credit when he insists that the girl who was poorer than himself when they were married, and who has kept him at his best physical and mental estate ever since by wise management of their modest household—making every dollar do the work of a dollar-and-a-quarter while feeding and clothing her family—should get the full benefit of his changed fortunes. In house, furniture, clothing, company, and what he names vaguely “a good time generally,” he means that she shall ruffle it with the bravest of her associates. He means also that these associates shall be in accord with his means. And the intention need not be in vain. A woman who is by instinct a lady, and who is at all clever in observing the little things she lacks and acquiring them, will find herself “received” by as many delightful people as she has time for. And inwardly she may take courage from a witty woman’s remark, “I’d as soon be the newly-rich as the always-poor.”

However, the odds are all against the chances that our worthy money-maker himself will conform his personal behavior to the new conditions. Husbands of his type leave “all that sort of thing” to wives and daughters, and make the social advancement of these women harder thereby. Not the least formidable obstacle in their upward journey is the[293] stubborn fact that “your father is quite impossible.”

Men, as a whole, do not take polish readily. As John Newlyrich did not wear a dress coat before he was twenty-one he is seldom quite at ease in a “swallow-tail” at forty. As a millionaire of fifty, he rebels against the obligation to wear it to the family dinner every evening in the week. If he has read Dickens, which is hardly likely, he echoes Mrs. Boffin’s “Lor’! let us be comfortable!” He butters a whole slice of bread, using his knife trowel-wise, and if busy talking of something that interests him particularly, he lays the slice upon the cloth during the troweling. He cuts up his salad, and makes the knife a good second to a fork while eating fish. Loyal to the memories of early life, he never gets over the habit of speaking of dinner as “supper,” and observes in conversation at a fashionable reception, “As I was eating my dinner at noon to-day.” In like absent-mindedness, he tucks his napkin into his collar to protect the expanse of shirt-front exposed by the low-cut waistcoat of his dress suit. He says “sir,” to his equals, and addresses facetious remarks to the butler, or draws the waitress into conversation while meals are going on. Anxious wife and despairing daughters are grateful if he does not put his knife into his mouth when off-guard.

Trifles—are they? Not to the climbers who are[294] exercised thereby. They are gravel between the teeth, and pebbles in the dainty foot-wear of Mrs. Newlyrich. The history of her social struggles would be incomplete without the mention of this drawback. She has learned the by-laws of social usage by heart, and, loving and loyal wife though she is, she sometimes loses patience with John for not doing the same.

In this, and in many another perplexity, more or less grievous, our heroine has our sympathy and deserves our respect. We use the word “heroine” advisedly. We have put the wealthy pushing vulgarian, who is part of the stock company of caricature and joke-wright, entirely out of the question. She has her sphere and her reward. Our business is with the woman of worthy aspirations and innate refinement, raised by a whirl of fortune’s wheel from decent poverty to actual wealth. She has a natural desire to mingle on equal terms with the better sort of rich people. She is glad of her wealth, but not purse-proud. It has introduced her to another world. Of her social life it may be truly said that old things have passed away and all things have become new. It would be phenomenal if she fitted at once and easily into it. Money has bought her fine house, and for money the artistic upholsterer has furnished it. Money has hired[295] a staff of servants, whereas up to now, a maid-of-all-work was her sole “help.”

Money does not enable her to master the “shibboleth” that would be her passport to the land she would possess. And to mangle it into “sibboleth”—as the least sophisticated of us know—means social slaughter at the passages of Jordan. One’s speech and manner of speaking are of the first importance socially, and fortunately it is not difficult to improve them if one earnestly determines to do so. One may frankly take private lessons, or one may learn much by listening closely to the talk of people of high social finish. One should not, however, imitate slavishly or attempt the impossible. To use the “broad a” gracefully one must either have been born to it or assiduously trained in one’s younger days. Otherwise it is bound to seem an affectation. An error heard with surprising frequency even from well-educated people is the use of “don’t” for “doesn’t.”

In Sesame and Lilies Ruskin remarks, “A false accent or a mistaken syllable is enough in the parliament of any civilized nation, to assign a man to a certain degree of inferior standing forever.” This is an extreme statement, of course, but there is much truth in it.

One thing Mrs. Newlyrich sometimes mistakenly[296] permits is the correcting of her grammatical blunders and her husband’s by their better-educated children. To allow this shows a wrong sense of proportion. It is infinitely more important for a child to respect his parents and to show them respect than that the laws of Lindley Murray be observed.

Seldom use a foreign phrase even if you have perfectly mastered its meaning and pronunciation. The “well of English undefiled” is usually sufficient for all needs. People who constantly sprinkle their conversation and letters with “dictionary” French or Latin lay themselves open to the charge of affectation. Certain foreign words once accorded their original pronunciation are now habitually Anglicized. One of the commonest of these is “valet,” which is now spoken as if it were an ordinary English word.

Engage no servant who patronizes you. Give your maids to understand at the outset that you are the head of the house, and know perfectly well what you want each one to do, and how your household is to be run. Be kind with all—familiar with none. They are your severest critics. Never speak to them of your husband by his Christian name. Your daughter should be “Miss Mary” and your son “Master John” in this connection.

“Breakfast is on,” “Luncheon is ready,” “Dinner is served” are the correct formulas that you[297] should require at the announcement of a meal. Assert yourself with dignity, never defiantly. Your servants have nothing to do with your past, or with anything connected with your personal history beyond the present relation existing between you and them. They will discuss and criticize you below-stairs and on “evenings out,” and, in the event of “changing their place,” to the next mistress who will stoop to listen to them. They would do the same were you a princess with a thousand-year-old pedigree. Stand in your lot and be philosophical.

You can not be too punctilious in not questioning them about how “things” were done in other houses in which they have been employed. Every such query will be construed into ignorance and diffidence. Be a law unto yourself and unto them.

Learn to speak of your “maid” or “maids,” not of your “girl.” If you have two, call one the cook and the other the housemaid. “Girl” is in itself a perfectly good word but it has, like some other good words as “genteel,” become debased by getting into indifferent company. In referring to your family avoid the word “folks” which has been decreed inelegant. Substitute “folk” or “people.” Do not overwork the word “lady,”—never speak of a “saleslady,” though this does not mean that any particular girl or woman serving behind a shop[298] counter may not be a lady in every essential of the word. Train yourself in the nice distinctions that dictate when one shall say “woman” or “lady,” when “man” and when “gentleman.” The terms “lady friend” or “gentleman friend” are never to be used. Never say “Excuse me!” Leave that to the person who calls herself a “saleslady.”

Yet you must learn how the people live whom you would meet upon common ground as old to them as it is new to you. You blush in confessing that you are bewildered as to the order in which the various forks are to be used that lie beside your plate at the few state dinners you attend. Entrées are many, and some appallingly unfamiliar. You wonder mutely what these people would think of you if they knew that you were never “taken in” to dinner by a man until to-night, and how narrowly you watch the hostess, or the woman across the way before you dare advance upon the course set before you. Dreading awkward stiffness that would betray preoccupation, you attract attention by a show of gaiety unlike your usual behavior and unsuited to time and place. Should you make a mistake—such as using a spoon instead of the ice-cream fork—you are abashed to misery. Don’t apologize, however gross the solecism! In eighteen times out of twenty, nobody has noticed the misadventure. In[299] twenty cases out of a score, if it were observed you are the one person who would care a picayune about it, or ever think of it again.

Another cardinal principle is to learn to consider yourself as a minute fractional part of society. When your name is bawled out by usher or footman at a large party, it sounds like the trump of doom in your unaccustomed ears. To your excited imagination all eyes are riveted upon you. In point of fact, you are of no more consequence to the eyes, ears and minds of your fellow guests than the carpet that seems to rise to meet your uncertain feet. Stubborn conviction of your insignificance is the first step that counts in the acquisition of well-mannered composure among your fellows.

In forming new acquaintances, be courteous in the reception of advances, and slow in making them until you have reason to think that you are liked for yourself, and not because your husband represents six, or it may be seven numerals. There are sure to be dozens of critics who will accuse you of parading these figures, as vessels fly bunting in entering a strange harbor. Stamp on your mind that adventitious circumstance has nothing to do with the worth of YOU, YOURSELF!

For a long while after you embark upon your new[300] life, be watchful and studious—yet covertly, lest your study be noted. Return calls promptly, sending in the right number of cards, and bearing yourself in conversation with gentle self-possession. Never be flattered by any attention into a flutter of pleasure. Above all, do not be obsequious, be the person who honors you by social notice a multi-millionaire, or the Chief Magistrate of these United States. Servility is invariably vulgarity. Familiarity is, if possible, a half-degree more repulsive. Self-respect and a wholesome oblivion of dollars and cents are a catholicon amid the temptations of your novel sphere.

If you chance to entertain some one who is still as obscure as you were once yourself, avoid all temptation to make a display or to be patronizing. “I am so glad you could come to-night,” effusively commented such a hostess to one of her guests. “I know you go out so seldom!” The guest in question showed by her silence that she did not relish being publicly reminded that she was of limited social opportunities.

When you begin to entertain in your turn avoid, scrupulously, startling effects and novelties of all kinds. Until you are used to the task, be strictly conventional in arrangements for your guests’ reception and pleasure. Let floral decorations and “souvenirs” be modest and tasteful. Mantels banked[301] with orchids, boutonnières of hothouse roses at a dollar apiece, and cases of expensive jewelry as favors, may express a generous hospitality on your part and a desire to gratify the acquaintances you would convert into friends. They will surely be set down to ostentatious display of means that few of the guests possess.

There are manuals of etiquette which will keep you from open solecisms in social usages. Follow their rules obediently, curbing all disposition to originality—for a while, at least. If possible, keep the greedy society reporter at a distance, without angering her. Do not give away the list of those invited, much less the menu. As Dick Fanshawe’s eulogist said of men who “jump upon their mothers,”—“Some does, you know!” Some even send in to the newspapers unsolicited descriptions of their entertainments with lists of guests, to the amusement of the editorial office.

These mistakes give occasion to the aforementioned cartoonists and joke-venders to deride the name of hospitality dispensed by the Newlyrich clan. Let the aforesaid manual of etiquette be followed with obedience, but not with servile and unthinking obedience. Unfortunately, it is true that the person unaccustomed to precise social regulations and to a formal manner of living, is inclined to consider the[302] rules governing such life as arbitrary, inexplicable and mysterious. If the uninitiated woman will disabuse herself of this idea, she has taken a long step in the right direction. Once you accept the fact that there is reason behind the forms employed by society, it will not be long before you will be searching for the reason itself. The laws governing the conventional world will then acquire for you a meaning that will make adherence to them simple and natural, instead of stiff and mechanical.

The matter of discriminating properly in questions of taste is a thing much more difficult to learn than the set and definite rules governing definite exigencies of social life. Yet taste,—taste in clothes, taste in the objects surrounding one, taste in all matters with which expenditure is concerned,—this is a necessity in the attainment of any social position worthy of the name. In this direction something may be gained by observation, though not until the eye is sufficiently trained to make it a trustworthy guide. The sense of beauty is somewhat a matter of cultivation, and its application to every-day life is the result of experience and judgment. Do not imagine that a color is becoming to you merely because you happen to like it. Do not buy a chair or a couch simply because the one or the other may happen to please your fancy. The color[303] you wear, the furniture you buy must have reference, the one to your appearance, the other to its surroundings.

When one is unversed in these matters it is best to submit problems to an authority. It is wiser to allow a clever modiste to select the color, style and material of one’s gown than to do it one’s self. It is better to put the scheme of decoration for your house into the hands of some accomplished person, educated to that end, than to attempt it yourself. In large cities persons competent in this matter of household decoration may easily be found, people whose business it is to act as paid agents of the more beautiful and esthetic way. Many architects have in their employ persons who are capable of advising as to interior decoration and of superintending the work. If one is resident in a small place, the difficulty is obviated by the intelligent aid offered to the questioner through the columns of the better magazines devoted to esthetics as applied to every-day living. The advice given in the best of these publications is conscientious, careful, expert advice.

One especial point in house-furnishing is worth noting. Do not crowd your beautiful Oriental rugs together, but leave a surface of polished floor about each. Rugs are floor pictures and should have[304] frames as well as wall pictures do. The effect of putting them close upon one another, though seen in many houses otherwise well ordered, is inartistic.

Mrs. Newlyrich is frequently criticized for her frequent fondness for lion-hunting. This is not always fair. If she hunt because of the glory she hopes to heap on herself, she deserves ridicule, but if she do it in the spirit of genuine appreciation and a desire to give rare pleasure to her friends she performs a real service to art and to society and merits praise for her courage and kindness, not censure.

If the woman who is now wealthy was once a trained nurse or a stenographer, do not let her be ashamed of the fact now. If she is frank and simple about the matter, sensible people will respect her for having been honorably employed. If she tries to hide the truth, every one will despise her for it. If she avoid the phrase—and the thought back of it—so often heard, “getting into society,” and will remember that all gentle aspiring persons are already members of the best society, she will be helped to steer her bark aright.

Beware of any person who attempts to exploit you “for revenue only.” On the other hand, if you find some one who for reasons of sincere liking undertakes to show you the social ropes, you will be fortunate.

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I have said that it is not your fault that you were not born in the purple. Neither is it of your merit and to your honor that you now walk in silk attire, and may freely gratify dreams you would once have considered wildly impossible. A certain steadiness of attitude should be striven for. Don’t be like a bell, answering helplessly to every contact. Imitate in your manner that large nobility of Horatio of whom Hamlet said,

The best of all books enjoins on the suddenly-exalted to be mindful of the pit from whence they were digged. Purse-pride is contemptible in its meanness and folly. You are safe from ridicule if you keep this fact in mind. Set up “me” and “mine” in “pearl” type, and not in capitals.

A final injunction: do not assume knowledge of what you are really ignorant. To do this is to lay traps for yourself and to multiply embarrassments. Try to forestall the situation by private questioning; if you can not do this say frankly that you do not know.

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CHAPTER XXX
DELICATE POINTS FOR OUR GIRL

THIS chapter is, perhaps, rather a Familiar Talk with Our Girl on the proprieties—which she may not recognize as such—than the emphasizing of various points of etiquette. But the violation of the essentials of self-respect is so common that a book of this character should have a chapter devoted to a bit of plain speaking to the young woman of to-day. We may call her actions, under certain circumstances, a violation of the proprieties, or of etiquette, or of conventionality. Or, perhaps, it is a sin against all three.

We are accustomed to seeing the sign “Hands off!” hung upon dainty fabrics,—pure spotless materials that would be injured and stained by the touching of a gloved or bare hand. People who admire the pure beauty of the article thus marked do not resent the sign. They see the wisdom of it and are willing to obey the mandate. For a fabric once soiled never looks the same again. All the chemicals in the country can not give it the peculiar[307] pristine freshness that was once its chief beauty.

To those who appreciate the beauty of youth, its pure freshness, the thought of its being touched by indiscriminate hands is abhorrent.

We have, happily, passed the Lydia Languish age, the day in which the young girl was a fragile creature, given to fainting and hysterics, clothed in innocence that was ignorance, good because she was afraid to be naughty, or because she was so hedged in by conventionalities that she did not have the opportunity to stray near the outer edge of the pasture bars. In her place we have a healthy, fearless, clear-eyed young person, looking life and its possibilities square in the face, good because she knows from observation or hearsay what evil is, and abhors it because it is evil. She is a sister, a chum, a jolly companion to the boy or man with whom she associates. She rides, walks, golfs or dances with him. She may do, and she does, all these things, and she still keeps his respect.

Thus far we go, and then creeps in the sinister question: Does she always do this?

The answer comes promptly: It is her own fault if she loses any man’s respect.

To those of us who have outstepped girlhood, who have begun to live deeply these lives of ours that are full of potentialities for good or evil, there comes a keen insight, and, with that insight, our[308] outer sight becomes more clear; and, sometimes, in looking at young people, we find our hearts, and almost our lips, crying out, “Don’t!”

We would not be—we are not—prudes, but the bloom of the peach is beautiful, and once rubbed off it can not be replaced. The snow-white fabric is too fair to be carelessly handled.

Last winter I sat in a train-seat behind a girl of eighteen and a young man a few years her senior. She was pretty and bright. She chatted gaily with her companion, who, after a few minutes, threw his arm over the back of her seat. To the initiated, it was evidently done as a trial as to whether that kind of thing would be allowed. The girl, intent on the conversation, appeared not to notice the action. In a few moments the hand resting against the girl’s shoulder was laid over the shoulder. The owner flushed, made some laughing protest, but evidently administered no rebuke, as the offending member continued to rest where it was, then gradually crept up toward her neck; finally, at some teasing remark of hers, it tweaked her ear. Had the child been older, the look in the man’s eyes, as he watched the fluctuations of color in her pretty face, would have warned her that she was playing with fire; that his respect for her would have been greater had she shown in the beginning that the[309] sign, “Hands off!” was on her person, although invisible to the vulgar eye.

This is but one of the many instances of the free-and-easy actions on the part of men, permitted by well-meaning girls.

In nine hundred and ninety-nine cases out of a thousand a man will not take a liberty with a girl unless she allows it.

I wish girls would bear this fact in mind! Men are what they make them, what they allow them to be. When a young fellow told a man in my presence last week that such and such a girl was a “jolly sort,” and, while out driving, had stopped at a roadhouse with him, gone into the parlor of the house and taken a glass of ginger ale while he had one of whisky, I was not surprised that the man of the world to whom he imparted this fact, remarked, “Crookéd, eh?”

That the young fellow (who, had he been older or less easily flattered, would not have related the occurrence) flushed and laughingly denied the allegation—did not alter the fact that the conclusion drawn was inevitable. The young girl may not, probably did not, deserve the stricture passed on her, but by her free-and-easy behavior she lost something she never can regain.

Men may pay attention to girls who ignore the conventionalities, who allow them doubtful liberties,[310] but they like them because they are what they term “fun.” Such girls are not those for whom men live, for whom they sacrifice bad habits, for whom they look in seeking a wife, and for whom they would bravely give up life if necessary. The true love of a good man is worth winning. It is not won by the girl who lowers herself in a man’s eyes. To her might apply the time-worn toast of man to “The New Woman,—once our superior, now our equal.”

Another point to which I would draw the attention of our girl is that the man should make the advances, should do the seeking and the courting. To this she would reply, “Why, of course! All girls know that.” They may know it theoretically, but does every girl live up to that knowledge? Does she always wait to be sought, to be won, without taking a hand herself at assisting destiny? I think observation will not prove that she does.

In this very free-and-easy age, when men are too busy seeking the elusive mighty dollar to be over-eager to show marked attention to girls, it is often the young woman who pays heed to some of the preliminaries of the courting period. It is frequently she who suggests to a man, after meeting him several times, that she would be glad to have him call. It is she who, when he is going on a journey, asks[311] him if he will not write to her. It is she who asks him for his picture and, on occasion, offers him one of hers.

It is, and it has been through centuries, the place of the man to take the initiative in such matters. If he wants to call on a girl, let him, as a rule, have the courage to ask her if he may do so; if he wishes to correspond with her, he should ask her permission to write to her. And if he does none of these things of his own volition, they may go undone. The girl who, through love of admiration, or the desire for men’s attention, takes these initial steps, loses her self-respect, and, unless the man in question be an exceptional instance, awakens in his breast a sensation of amused interest. He is flattered, and a bit contemptuous. As time goes on and he likes the girl more and more, that feeling may be forgot, but it is always lying there dormant, and may arise sometime just when the young woman would most wish for respect and love.

Men prize that which they have had difficulty in winning. The apple that drops, over-ripe, at one’s feet is never quite so tempting as that which hangs just beyond reach.

It is well for the matter of sex to be put out of mind in many of the dealings between young men and young women, but in the question of loverly attentions[312] it can not be ignored. And in this matter it is the man, and the man only, who should make advances. It is better for her peace of mind that a girl should never have the marked attention of any man, than that she should forget her maidenly dignity in order to acquire it. Such acquisition is certainly not worth the price paid for it.

A man must look up to that which he loves. And a hard-and-fast rule is the slangy one that declares that one does not run after a car when he has already caught it, or when it stands at the corner waiting for him, and ready to start or stand at his will. The girls for whom men find life worth living are those who are ideals as well as companions.

Dear girls, be happy, be merry, have all the harmless fun that the good God, who wishes you to be happy, sends your way. But for the sake of the man who may one day seek you and win you—for the sake of the womanhood that he would honor—let all men know that you are labeled—“HANDS OFF!” and that you are not to be cheaply gained. They will love you better, respect and honor you more for that knowledge.

A serious mistake often made by girl students and working girls is taking the men who call on them to their rooms. In most cases these rooms are fitted up with couches to look much like sitting-rooms,[313] but the men know they are not sitting-rooms, and the girl who receives men thus suffers for it in name if not in fact. It is a thing that a self-respecting girl can not afford to do, even once. If she expects to have men call on her, she must choose a room in a house where she may occasionally have the use of a parlor. The ruling may seem hard, but there is no getting round it.

No young girl can afford to accept a luncheon or dinner invitation from a married man or, indeed, any attention whatsoever. It does not matter that he may be an “old friend of the family,”—those who see her may not know this and, even if they do, may not acquit her of harm. For similar seasons, a girl employed as secretary in a man’s office should take care that the relation between her and her employer is purely one of business.

One of the unfailing tests of good breeding is what one laughs at. Without becoming priggish, a girl should discriminate between what is a fit subject for jest and what is entitled to her reverence. As a rule, jests about birth, death and marriage are to be avoided. A special word of suggestion must be given in connection with the first of these subjects. If you are to speak of a woman who is to become a mother, say frankly that she is expecting or bearing a child. The euphemisms employed in[314] place of this plain phrase are unspeakably vulgar. It is never vulgar to be frank if the person and the circumstances justify the introduction of the subject at all. One must often wish for more of the old-fashioned reserve on intimate topics. A critic of modern women said of them recently: “Among themselves, women lose more delicacy than any man could take from them.” When one listens aghast to the talk of some modern women, one can but echo the statement. Akin to this unbecoming freedom of speech is the lack of consideration sometimes shown to an expectant mother by her friends. Comment in such instances one would suppose would be recognized as the height of indelicacy, but thoughtlessly, and in a spirit of jest, remarks are made that cause a sensitive person to wince. Unless the mother-to-be confides her sacred expectations, she has every right to have them treated with the respect of silence, and only a vulgar-minded woman will intrude upon her.

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CHAPTER XXXI
OUR OWN AND OTHER PEOPLE’S CHILDREN

CONSTANCE FENIMORE WOOLSON, in one of her novels, thus describes a discourtesy to which mothers of young children are much given:

“Talking with a mother when her children are in the room is the most trying thing conversationally; she listens to you with one ear, but the other is listening to Johnnie; right in the midst of something very pathetic you are telling her she will give a sudden, perfectly irrelevant smile over her baby’s last crow, and your best story is hopelessly spoiled because she loses the point (although she pretends she hasn’t) while she arranges the sashes of Ethel and Totsie.”

There is a protest in the paragraph quoted that will find an answering groan in many a heart. Who of us does not wish that mothers of small children would adopt a few rules of ordinary politeness and courtesy, and, when talking to a guest, give attention that is not shared and almost monopolized by the child who happens to be present?

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Parents make the mistake of thinking that their children must be as absorbingly interesting to all visitors and acquaintances as they are to those to whom they belong. This is a vast mistake. No matter how fond one may be of the young of his species, one does enjoy a conversation into which they are not dragged, and talks with more freedom if they are not present. Certainly it is far better for the child to learn to run off and amuse himself than to sit by, listening to talk not meant for his ears. Those of us who were children many years ago were not allowed to make nuisances of ourselves to the extent that children of to-day do, and surely we were happy. In one home there is a small boy, very good, and very affectionate, whose mother can not receive a caller without the presence of the ubiquitous infant. He sits still, his great eyes fixed upon the face of the caller, and she feels ashamed for wishing that he would get out of the room. Occasionally he varies the monotony by saying, “Mother, don’t you want to tell Mrs. Blank about what I said the other day when I was hurt and did not cry?” Or, “Mother, do you think Mrs. Blank would like me to recite my new poem to her?”

This may be annoying, but it is still more pitiful. To talk so much to a child and of him in the presence of others that he is a poseur at the early age of five, is cruel to the little one himself. We frown[317] on the old adage which declared “children should be seen and not heard,” but there are homes in which the guest wishes that they might be invisible as well as inaudible.

One mother defers constantly to her fourteen-year-old son, and allows him to be present during all chats she has with her friends. She says, “You do not mind Will, I am sure. You may say what you like where he is, for he is the soul of discretion, and I talk freely with him.” But the visitor does not feel the same confidence in “Will,” and certainly objects to expressing all her opinions with regard to people and things in his presence.

Our own children are intensely interesting; the children of other people are, as a rule, not! Let us, once in a while, put ourselves in the place of another person, and think if we are willing to have that person’s child always in the room when we would talk confidentially with her. I think if we are frank we shall acknowledge that while we do not mind the presence of our own children, we do talk more freely when other people’s children are not present. Said a man not long ago:

“Mrs. Brown is a marvelous woman. She is one of the most devoted mothers I know. Her children are with her a great part of the time. Yet, whenever I call there, alone or with a friend, a signal from her empties the drawing-room or library of[318] the entire flock of five infants, and she is just as much interested in what her callers have to say as if she had no youngsters cruising about in the offing.”

It is not to be supposed that children are never to be allowed to come into the drawing-room. They should be trained to enter the room, greet the guests politely and without embarrassment, answer frankly and straightforwardly, and to speak when spoken to. Then, they should be silent unless drawn into the conversation. The truest kindness is, after a few moments, to let the little ones run away and play with their toys or in the outdoor air.

The child who hangs his head shyly, and refuses to speak politely to any one who addresses him, should be taught the courtesy of friendliness. From the cradle a baby may be taught to “see people,” and, as soon as he is old enough to return a greeting, he must be trained to do so.

The only way to make small ladies and gentlemen of children is to teach, first of all, perfect obedience. This is, in this day, an unpopular doctrine, for there is prevalent a theory that the child must be allowed to exercise his individuality,—in other words, to do as he pleases. Why the child should develop his individuality, and the parents curb theirs, may be matter for wonder to those not educated up[319] to this twentieth-century standard of ethics. If “days should speak, and multitude of years should teach wisdom,” the father and mother are better fitted to dictate to the child than the child to dictate to them. And yet, in the average home, the last-mentioned form of government often prevails.

Nothing is more unkind than to allow a child to do always as he pleases, for, as surely as he lives, he must learn sooner or later to yield to authority and to exercise self-control. The earlier the training begins, the easier it will be. The child creeping about the room soon knows that the gentle but firm “No!” when spoken by the mother means that he must not touch the bit of bric-à-brac within reach. And even this lesson will stand him in good stead later on.

The basic principle of home government must be love enforced by firmness. A punishment should seldom be threatened, but if threatened, must be given. The time for threat and punishment is not in public. In the parlor, on the train or boat, it is the height of ill-breeding to make a scene and to threaten a punishment of any kind. Were the child properly trained in private, parents and beholders would be spared the humiliating spectacle that too often confronts them in visiting and traveling.

One word here as to the child on train or boat.[320] The person who is truly well-bred will not turn and frown on the mother of the tiny baby who, suffering with colic, or sore from traveling, is wailing aloud. Of course the sound is annoying, but it is harder on the poor mortified mother than on any one else. I already hear the question, “Why doesn’t she keep the infant at home then?” Frequently she can not do this. The child may be ill, and be on its way to seashore or mountains to gain health; or the mother may be summoned to see some relative, and can not go unless the baby goes too. Whatever the cause of her going, the fact remains that she derives no pleasure from holding a screaming baby, and her discomfort is turned into positive anguish by the disgusted looks of the women, and the muttered imprecations of the men.

I saw once under such circumstances a woman who was an honor to her sex. Opposite her in the train sat a young mother, and in her arms was a fretful wailing baby. It was evidently the first baby, and the poor girlish mother was white and weary. At every scream the baby gave she would start nervously, change the little one’s position, look about at the passengers with an expression of pathetic apology,—all the time keeping up a crooning “Sh-h-h!” that produced no effect on the crying atom of humanity. And, as is often the case, the[321] more nervous the mother became, the more nervous did the baby grow, and the louder did he scream. An exclamation of impatience came from a woman seated behind the suffering twain, and, at the same moment, a man in front threw down his paper with a slam and rushed out of the car and into the smoker. Then the woman who was an honor to her sex came across from the seat opposite, and laid a gentle hand on the mother’s shoulder, smiling reassurance in the tear-filled eyes lifted to hers.

“My dear,” said the soft voice, “you are worn out, and the baby knows it. Let me take him for a minute. No, don’t protest! I have had four of my own, and they are all too big for me to hold in my arms now. I just long to feel that baby against my shoulder! Give him to me! There, now! you poor, tired little mother, put your head down on the back of the seat, and rest!”

She took the baby across the aisle, laid him over her shoulder with his head against her cheek, in the comforting way known to all baby-lovers, and in three minutes the cries had subsided and the baby was asleep in the strong motherly arms, where he lay until Jersey City was reached. And the tired little mother fell into a light slumber, too, comforted by the appreciation that she was not alone, nor an intolerable nuisance to all her fellow passengers.

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Was not such an act as this woman’s the perfection of true courtesy, the courtesy that forgets itself in trying to make another comfortable?

This same spirit spoken of by Saint Paul as “in honor preferring one another” can be inculcated in the children in our homes. The small of the human species are, like their elders, naturally selfish, and must be taught consideration for others. It is the grafting that makes the rose what it is. You may graft a Jacqueminot or Maréchal Neil upon the stump of the wild rose. The grafting, the pruning, and the training are the work of the careful gardener. The mother can never be idle, for, while the stock is there, she does the grafting.

Obedience must be taught in small things as well as in great. The tiny child must be taught to remove his hat when he is spoken to, to give his hand readily in greeting, to say “please” and “thank you”; not to pass in front of people, or between them and the fire; to say “excuse me!” when he treads on his mother’s foot or dress; to rise when she enters the room; and to take off his hat when he kisses her. The mother who insists that her child do these things at home need not fear that he will forget her training when abroad.

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CHAPTER XXXII
OUR NEIGHBORS

THE fact that people live next door to you does not make them your neighbors in the higher and better sense of that word. There may be nothing in their persons or characters to commend them to you, or for that matter, to commend you to them. “Neighborhood” in literal interpretation signifies nearness of vicinity. You have the right to choose your associates and to elect your friends.

Presuming on this truth, dwellers in cities are prone to vaunt their ignorance of, and indifference to, those who live in the same street, block and apartment-house with themselves. If newly come to what is a kingdom by comparison with their former estate, they make a point of seeking society elsewhere than among residents of their neighborhood. “Let us be genteel or die!” says Dickens of Mrs. Fielding’s struggles to eat dinner with gloves on. “Let us be exclusive or cease to live!” says Mrs. Upstart,[324] and refuses to learn the names of her neighbors on the right and left.

One of the hall-marks of the thoroughbred is his daily application of the maxim, “Live and let live.” His social standing is so firm that a jostle, or even a push from a vulgarian who chances to pass his way, can not disturb him. When the mongrel cur bayed at the moon, “the moon kept on shining.” If he be a gentleman in heart as well as in blood and name, he has a real interest in people who breathe the same air and tread the same street with himself—interest as far removed from vulgar curiosity in other people’s concerns as the gentle courtesy of his demeanor is removed from the familiar bumptiousness of the forward and underbred.

Entering ourselves as learners in his school—and we could not study manners in a better—we recognize our neighbors as such. If we live on the same block and meet habitually on the street, a civil bow in passing, a smile to a child, in chance encounters in market or shop, a word of salutation, be it only a “Good morning,” or “It is a fine day!” or, after a few exchanges of this sort—“I hope your family keeps well in this trying weather”—are tokens of good-will and appreciation of the fact that we are dwellers in the same world, town and neighborhood.

None of these minute courtesies which you owe[325] to yourself and to your neighbor lays on you any obligation to call, or to invite her to call on you. Failure to comprehend this social by-law often causes heart-burnings and downright resentment. You may thus meet and greet a woman living near you every day for twenty years, and if some stronger bond than the accident of proximity does not draw you together, you may know nothing more of her than her name and address at the end of that time—perhaps the address alone. Unless, indeed, casualty in the way of fire, personal injury or severe illness, makes expedient—and to the humane such expediency is an obligation—further recognition of the tie of neighborhood. In either of the cases indicated, send to ask after the health of the sufferer, and if you can be of service. If there be a death in the house, a civil inquiry to the same effect and a card of sympathy will “commit” you to nothing.

We are working now on the assumption that each of us has a sincere desire to brighten the pathway of others, to make this hard business of daily living more tolerable. Of all the passive endurances of life, strangerhood is one of the hardest to the sensitive spirit. Your neighbor’s heart is lighter because you show that you are aware of her existence and, in some sort, recognize her identity. She may not be your congener. Your bow and smile remind her that you are her fellow human being. Stranger

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ships meeting in mid-ocean do not wait to inspect credentials before exchanging salutes.

If your neighbor be an acquaintance whom you esteem, do not let her be in doubt on this point.

In ante-bellum days at the South, neighborhood was a powerful bond of sympathy. Miles meant less to them in this respect than so many squares mean to us now. A system of wireless telegraphy connected plantations for an area of many miles. Joy or sorrow set the current in motion from one end to the other. What I have called elsewhere being “kitchenly-kind,” was comprehended in perfection in that bygone time. When the house-mother sent a pot of preserves to her neighbor with her love, and “she would like to know how you all are to-day,” it was the outward and substantial sign of the inward grace of loving kindness, and not an intimation that the recipient’s preserve-closet was not so well-stocked as the giver’s. When opened hamper and unfolded napkin showed a quarter of lamb, or a steak, or a roll of home-made “sausage meat,” enough neighborly love garnished the gift to make it beautiful.

Out-of-fashion nowadays?

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Enough of the old-time spirit lives among our really “best people” to justify the “kitchenly-kind” in proffering gifts that presuppose personal liking and active desire to please a neighbor. A cake compounded by yourself; a plate of home-made rolls taken from your own table; a dainty fancy dish of sweets of home-manufacture, express more of the “real thing” than a box of confectionery or a basket of flowers put up by a florist. It is the personal touch that glorifies the gift, the consciousness that your neighbor thinks enough of you to give of her time and service for your pleasure. The home-made offering partakes of her individuality, and appeals to yours.

Neighborliness does not, of necessity, imply familiarity of manner and speech that may become offensive, or a continuous performance of visits, calls and “droppings-in” that must inevitably become a bore, however congenial may be the association. Those friendships last longest where certain decorous forms are always observed, no matter how close the mutual affection may be. Mrs. Stowe, in one of her New England stories, describes the intercourse between two families as “a sort of undress intimacy.” Reading further, we find that this dishabille companionship involves visits by way of the back door and at all sorts of unconventional hours.

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Such abandonment of the reserves that etiquette enjoins on every household is a dangerous experiment. The back porch is for family use. Your next-door neighbor may not meddle therewith. Personally, I do not want my own son, or my married daughters, to enter my house through the kitchen. If you, dear reader, would retain your footing in the house of the friend best-loved by you, come in by the front door, and never without announcing your presence as any other visitor would. Steady persistence in this rule will avoid the chances of divers unpleasant possibilities. Your hostess—or her husband—or grown son—may be as much in dishabille as the intimacy which, in your opinion, warrants you in running in and up, without knock or ring. You may happen on a love-scene, or a family quarrel, or a girl may be in the hands of the treasure of a hair-dresser who shampoos her twice a month with pure water that looks like peroxide of hydrogen, and “restores” the subject’s dark brown tresses to the guileless flaxen of her forgotten babyhood; or your clattering heels upon the stairway may break the touchy old grandmother’s best afternoon nap.

There is but one place on earth where it is safe to make yourself “perfectly at home,” and that is your own house—or apartment—or chamber.

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CHAPTER XXXIII
CHURCH AND PARISH

THEORETICALLY, the church is a pure democracy, a mighty family. There, if anywhere, the rich and the poor meet together on terms of absolute equality.

In that least poetical of pious jingles,—

“Blest be the tie that binds,”—

we declare that

These and other Pietistic platitudes, whether tame or tuneful, are technical, and so nearly meaningless as not to provoke debate. Every reasonable man and woman knows and does not affect to conceal his or her consciousness of the truth that social distinctions are not effaced by the enrolment of rich and poor, educated and illiterate, refined and boorish, in impartial order upon the “church books.”[330] True religion does refine feeling and engender benevolence and charitable judgment of our fellows. In doing this, it creates a common ground of sympathy, as of belief. It elevates the moral and spiritual nature. Of itself, it does not enrich the intellect, or polish manners. One may have a clean heart and dirty flesh-and-blood hands; may be a sincere and earnest Christian, yet double his negatives, shove his food into his mouth with his knife, prefer the corner of a table-cloth to a napkin, and be an alien in the matter of finger-bowls.

It is possible that two women may work together harmoniously in church and parish associations, each esteeming the other’s excellent qualities of heart and enjoying the fellowship of her “kindred mind,” and yet that both should be intensely uncomfortable if forced into reciprocal social relations that have nothing to do with church or charity.

These are plain facts no reasonable person will dispute. In view of them the fact, equally patent, that the Newlyrich clan sometimes resort to church connection as a lever to raise them to a higher social plane, is one of the anomalies of human intercourse that may well stir the satirist to bitter ridicule and move compassionate beholders to wonder.

“When they begin to feel their oats they go off to you!” laughed the keen-witted, sweet-natured pastor of a down-town church to a brother clergyman[331] whose flock worshiped in a finer building and a fashionable neighborhood. “The sheep with the golden fleece always finds a breach in our church-wall.”

It takes him, his ewe and his lambs, a long time to learn that pew proximity does not bring about social sympathy. It is not a week since I saw a girl, a thoroughbred from crown to toe, flush in surprise and draw herself up in unconscious hauteur, when a flashily-dressed young person greeted her across the vestibule of a concert-room with “Hello, Nellie! didn’t we have a bully time last night?”

They had attended a Sunday-school anniversary, and, as their classes were side by side, had exchanged remarks in the intervals of recitations, songs and addresses. The parvenu’s clothes were more costly than “Nellie’s;” her father was richer; they were members of the same church! To her vulgar mind these circumstances gave her the right to take a liberty with a slight acquaintance such as no well-bred person would have dreamed of assuming.

First, then, I place among the maxims of church and parish etiquette: Do not imagine that your next-pew neighbor must be your friend. If she be a newcomer and a stranger in the congregation, bow to her in meeting in lobby or in aisle cordially,[332] recognizing her as a fellow worshiper in a temple where all are welcome and equal. If you can be of service to her in finding the place of hymn or psalm, should she be at a loss, perform the neighborly service tactfully and graciously,—always because you are in the House of the All-Father, and are His children,—not that you seek to court a mortal’s favor for any ulterior purpose.

In meeting her on the street, let your salutation be ready and pleasant, but not familiar. Don’t “Hello, Nellie!” her, then or ever, while bearing in mind that non-recognition of one you know to be a regular attendant at the same church with yourself, yet a comparative stranger there, is unkind and un-Christian.

The case is different if you are the stranger. Friendly advances should come from the other side. If they are not made, there is nothing for you to do but to content yourself with the recollection that you go to church to worship God, not to make acquaintances. Never depend on your church-connection for society. If you find congenial associates there, rejoice in the happy circumstance and make the most of it. If you do not, do not rail at the congregation as “stiff and stuck up,” at the church as a hollow sham, and the pastor as an unfaithful[333] shepherd. The expectation on the part of some people that he should neglect the weightier matters of the law and the gospel, and prostitute his holy office by becoming a social pudding-stick for incorporating into “a jolly crowd” the divers elements of those to whom he is called to minister, disgraces humanity and civilization—not to say Christianity.

Pew hospitality has fallen into disuse to a great extent of late years, principally on account of the usher-service. The tendency of this partial desuetude is to make pew owners utterly careless of their obligation to entertain strangers. Regard for the best interests of your particular church-organization should suggest to you as a duty that you notify the usher in your aisle of your willingness to receive strangers into your pews whenever the one or two vacant seats there may be needed. If your family fills them all every Sunday, you can not exercise the grace of hospitality.

When one or two, or three, are to be absent from either service, however, take the trouble to apprise the oft-sorely-perplexed official of the fact, and give him leave to bring to your door any one he has to seat. When the stranger appears, let him see at once that you esteem his coming a pleasure. Give him a good seat, a book and a welcome generally.

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By this behavior you commend to his favor your church, human nature and the cause dearest to your heart.

If you are the visiting worshiper, and it is evident that the other occupants of the pew are the owners thereof, make courteous and grateful acknowledgment at the close of the service, of the hospitality you have received. I hope the return you get will not be the cold supercilious stare one true gentlewoman had from the holder of a pew in the middle aisle of a fashionable church in New York. The guest put into Mrs. Haut Ton’s pew thanked the latter simply and gracefully for the opportunity given her of hearing an admirable sermon.

“Who are you that dare address me!” said the silent stare. “It is bad enough to have my pew invaded by an unvouched-for stranger without being subjected to the impertinence of speech!”

The last place upon God’s earth where incivility and the arrogance of self-conceit are admissible is His house. “Be pitiful,” writes the apostle who learned his code of manners from One who has been not irreverently called “the truest gentleman who ever lived.” “Be pitiful; be courteous!”

The relations of parishioner and the pastor’s family are often strained hard by the popular misconception of the social obligations existing—or[335] that should exist—between them. In no “call” that I ever heard of is the clergyman enjoined to cater to the whims and vanities of exacting members by visits that are not demanded by spiritual or temporal needs, and which minister to nothing but the aforesaid jealous vanity. Send for a clergyman when his priestly offices are required. For the rest of his precious time let him come as he likes, and go whither he considers his duty calls him. He was a man before he took orders, and the man has social rights. Let him “neighbor,” as old-fashioned folk used to say, with his kind.

The aforesaid “call” makes no mention of his family. If you like to call on them when they come to the parish, and if you find them congenial—your congeners, in fact—keep up the association as you would with your doctor’s, or your lawyer’s family. That you belong to Doctor Barnabas’ parish, that you are the wife or daughter of an officer in his church, gives you absolutely no claim on his wife or daughters beyond what you, individually, possess. To demand that Mrs. Barnabas, refined in every instinct, highly educated and with tastes for what is best and highest in social companionship, should be bullied and patronized by Mrs. Million, a purse-proud vulgarian, unlearned and stupid, is sheer barbarity. Yet we see it—and worse—in many American churches.

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Do you, sensible and amenable reader, lead the way to better things; loosen at least one buckle of the harness that bows many a fine spirit to breaking, and makes the church a smoke in the nostrils of unprejudiced outsiders. Separate ecclesiastical from social relations. Owe your right to call a fellow parishioner “friend,” and to visit at manse or parsonage, or rectory, to what you are—not to the adventitious circumstance of being a member in good standing in a fashionable, or an unfashionable, church. Exact no consideration from those who belong with you to the household of faith on the ground of that spiritual “fellowship.” The position is false; the claim ignoble.

No matter what church one is in, one should always try to conform as far as possible to its order of worship. Not to do this shows a want of proper reverence.

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CHAPTER XXXIV
THE WOMAN’S CLUB

THE popularity of women’s societies for literary study, for economic discussion, for the consideration of municipal and social improvement, is enormous. They are to be found all over the country, but particularly do they flourish in the Middle West, where every town and hamlet in the region boasts a woman’s club of some sort. Both ridicule and praise are showered upon these organizations; and they deserve both. Some of their manifestations are crude, absurd and tiresome; others are fine in themselves, exert a broadening influence over those intimately concerned, and are helpful indirectly to the whole community represented by them. However much particular societies may lay themselves open to adverse criticism by reason of priggishness, superficiality or a mistaken sense of their importance in the scheme of things, it must be acknowledged that the general tendency of these organizations is good. They lift women out of the consideration of the commonplace, domestic side of[338] existence; they encourage toleration and a give-and-take attitude toward life, in which attitude women are often lacking; they open a way for the development of latent talent of various kinds; they are often stepping stones to improvement in the social life of a community. It would be hard to estimate how much they have done in creating an atmosphere for the truly artistic and literary element in various communities throughout the United States. No doubt they have in this way encouraged the production of literature and other forms of art; while, in humbler fashion, they have brought pleasure and an outlook into many narrow circumscribed lives.

An English woman, visiting in a western city of our country, was asked what one of our institutions she admired the most. “The Woman’s Club,” she replied without hesitation, and added that she would like to transplant it to her native land where, it was true, there were associations of women banded together for various purposes, but none in which women met in such easy and happy intellectual relations as in the women’s clubs of America. Such praise from an unprejudiced observer of our country consoles the woman who believes in the mission of the woman’s club despite many an ugly newspaper fling. The English woman in question was fortunate in attending a club of particular interest and value where, to a degree, the ideal of what a[339] woman’s club should be was realized. Such a club indicates the possibilities of the institution, however; and many organizations of women are working with crude material through absurd phases toward accomplishment as happy.

In small communities where the opportunities are infrequent for theater, for social diversion of various kinds, the woman’s club is of the greatest help. It serves at once to focus and distribute all the better social and intellectual interests of the neighborhood. It may be a means of lifting a whole community to a livelier and more interesting social and intellectual level.

Many women’s clubs become important factors in municipal legislation along the lines most amenable to feminine influence. Through such clubs women have helped to solve educational questions, have influenced public sentiment in the direction of cleaning and beautifying the streets, and in many other ways have helped to promote law and order. The literary club is, however, the form most often taken by feminine organizations.

The formation of a literary club is not a difficult matter, though the amount of red tape with which it is sometimes covered up makes the project seem formidable. The woman most interested in the organization of such a club should call a meeting at her house of those she thinks most likely to enter[340] into the scheme with energy and profit. A perusal of Robert’s Rules of Order or of any other good manual of parliamentary law, will show how such a meeting should be conducted, how officers should be elected and a constitution adopted. It may be said in this connection that there are few matters harder for a woman to digest gracefully than a knowledge of parliamentary usages. Such knowledge is for use only, not for display. To make a show of it is like using a kitchen utensil for a drawing-room ornament. Many women seem to regard the rules governing societies as important in themselves. They are only important as the knowledge and use of them quickens the business proceedings leading up to the real purpose of the organization. Business in a woman’s club, founded for study and improvement, is only a means to an end. It is disastrous to consider it otherwise.

The membership having been decided upon, the officers selected and constitution adopted, the next and most important thing in a literary club is to make out the program. For this purpose an executive committee of three or more is appointed by the president or elected by the club. Sometimes this committee makes out the entire program, merely notifying each member of the part she is expected to take in its performance. Sometimes the members are consulted as to what subjects they prefer. The[341] more arbitrary method is often necessary in order to procure unity of design in the program. If, for instance, the program for the day includes two papers and a discussion following, the subjects considered should be related, so as to make some sort of harmony. If each member is allowed to choose her subject, regardless of anything but her own desire, small pleasure or profit follows. In some clubs the executive committee sends out cards to the members, asking for suggestions, accepts the best of these, and, when possible, assigns the topics preferred.

If the first mentioned and more arbitrary method is followed, the committee should be careful to select subjects according to the persons for whom they are designed. Mrs. Brown, who loves poetry, but knows nothing of science, should not be asked to handle the wonders of electricity in the twentieth century; and Mrs. White, who has a delicious touch in narrating personal experiences, but knows little of continental fiction, would better be asked to write a paper on her summer vacation than one on the great Russian novelists, Turgenieff and Tolstoi. Of course, the practise for Mrs. Brown and Mrs. White, in considering subjects opposed to their knowledge and taste, might be salutary for them, but it might also send the other members of the club to sleep. And the ambition of the executive committee should[342] be to avoid as much dulness as possible in the atmosphere it partly creates.

Whether the program shall be miscellaneous in character, or shall be devoted to progressive study in one direction, is a question to be considered by the committee. If the club is small, compact in spirit, and on improvement bent, the study of some one period, author or movement is often most advantageous. If the club is large, and entertainment is largely the motive for meeting, a program that varies to meet the various demands of the membership is better.

Usually, the number of papers on a given day should not exceed two. Sometimes, owing to the light or easily divisible nature of the theme for the day, three papers, of fifteen or twenty minutes each, may be assigned.

For the discussion that should follow the paper, or papers, it is the custom generally in women’s clubs to appoint a leader. The selection of leaders for conversation should be carefully made. Not every woman who writes a good paper talks well, though it is possibly within her power to do so if she makes sufficient effort. The leader of a conversation should be one who has been tried in general discussion and found successful. Upon the leader depends the guidance of the talk. If it drifts into foolish and unprofitable channels, it is her[343] business to call it back to better issues, yet to do so with what shall not seem a meddling or arbitrary touch. The cultivation of the gift of speech is, in the minds of many competent judges, the best thing offered us by the woman’s club. Only a skilled person should undertake leadership in a discussion, but the floor of the club is a school where all may learn something of the art. To learn to think quickly, to express one’s self standing and facing an audience,—this is an accomplishment worth having, and one which many a club woman owes to years of progressive effort in a woman’s club.

Members should be taken into a club because they have qualifications which will add to the pleasure and profit of the membership at large. One should not vote for or against a candidate for purely personal reasons. Many kind people, who are yet ignorant of the proper law for limiting the membership of a club, consider it an act of enmity to blackball a candidate for membership whether she be fitted for that membership or not. This is a mistaken and a sentimental theory. It is indeed disagreeable to blackball, but it is sometimes necessary. Those who propose members for a club should feel the responsibility of such proposals and thus, as far as lies within their power, avoid for the membership, or committee controlling this matter, the unpleasant[344] necessity of refusing or blackballing a candidate.

The new member should be received with courtesy by the older members of the club. Her sponsors or guarantors should see to it that proper introductions, if introductions be necessary, are made. For several months, at least, after her admission to the club, the new member’s part should be a negative rather than a positive one. It is an unwritten law in the United States Senate that the new senator does not speak on any matter of importance for a year after his election. Exactly so, modesty demands that the new member in a woman’s club, unless specially requested, keep silent till custom has established her place in the organization. When the proper occasion arises for her to speak or to read, she begins her performance as others do theirs, by formally addressing the president and members of the club thus: “Madam president and women of the club.”

In many clubs, where the membership is not large and the dues are small, it is customary to meet from house to house. This should always be considered only a provisional method. It is much better to have a club home than to wander about from place to place. Papers and other properties accumulate in the life of a club, and it is advisable to have some[345] permanent place for the bestowal of them. The sense of getting acquainted with a new place each time interferes with ease of manner and freedom of discussion, while familiarity with one’s surroundings begets both these happy qualities. As soon as the funds warrant the expenditure, a club should rent a convenient and acceptable place, where its regular meetings can be held.

Once a year, usually at the beginning of the president’s term of office, it is customary for the club to give some sort of entertainment for its members. This may be a luncheon or breakfast, a high tea or merely an afternoon reception, where salad, ices and coffee are served. At this festivity, after the menu has been served, the retiring president bids good-by to her office and introduces her successor, who acts as toast-mistress for the occasion. The toasts should be few in number, not more than five or six, and the time occupied by each should be from five to seven minutes. Commonly, the subjects for toasts should be of a lively pleasing nature, and should be treated in a manner to correspond. To take advantage of a festive occasion for the delivery of a lamentation or a sermon is in very bad taste. It should be remembered by the speaker that she is expected to entertain and not to instruct.

The spirit of the members toward club performances should be kindly and genial, if good work[346] is to be expected. Nothing can be done in the face of ill-natured criticism. The standard of work can only be raised by each member doing her best, and keeping an open mind for the performances of her acquaintances. Frequently a special advantage in hearing club papers lies in one’s acquaintance with the writer, which makes it possible for one to interpret much more richly than would be possible in the printed page of a personally unknown author. This is the “unearned increment” of club membership, one of the best returns for its fellowship; and, in order to get the most out of one’s connection with a literary club where, in the nature of things, one can not be expecting literary masterpieces, one must be on the lookout for this personal quality which adds so largely to the written and spoken words heard there.

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CHAPTER XXXV
CHARITIES, PUBLIC AND PRIVATE

CHARITY begins at home, but it is a great mistake to suppose that it should end there. Indeed, in the last analysis, to do for one’s own family is not charity, but a form of selfishness. The truly generous spirit can not resist the call to help the poor and needy, the outcast and degraded.

One’s relation to charity should not be accidental, but should form a part of the plan of one’s life. It is not very creditable to give to a good cause only because one is besieged to do so, or because one is ashamed to say “no.” When the young married couple sit down together for their first discussion of finance, of how much they shall spend for house, for clothes, how much for food, how much for amusement and so on, this question of what shall be done for those poorer than themselves should have a place. No matter how small the sum possible, something should be given to philanthropic work.

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The woman of the family is very often, directly or indirectly, the dispenser of the money devoted to charity. She is the one who decides into what channels it shall go. She has the time for investigating the needs of societies and of individuals. The work, too, that accompanies gifts of charity more often falls to her lot than to a man. This is a department of service properly belonging to her. She has natural rights in this section of the world’s work, of which she should be proud.

Charities, broadly, are of two kinds, public and private; and activity in one should not preclude activity in the other. The ideal administration of charity would consist in every person comfortably established, having among his real friends several poor persons or poor families from whom he himself received a broadening knowledge of life, as well as to whom he gave of physical necessities. In the absence of this ideal situation, he must avail himself of the best means open to him. He must take advantage of the splendid organization of modern charities, but he must not forget also to be on the lookout for individual cases of need that are not likely to appear before the board of any philanthropic organization.

We hear it from the pulpit and the platform continually, yet not too often, that organized charitable[349] work is one of the finest achievements of our present civilization. Narrow-minded people sometimes say that our grandmothers got along very well without it, and did as much good as the women of the present day. They got on without it only because they did not have such complex conditions to cope with. It is not possible, no matter how good the intentions of the individuals concerned, that as valuable work can be done without modern methods as with them. In these days, each charity of a city or town attempts to cover one field, and to cover it as thoroughly and from as many different points of view as possible. Wherever possible, the aim of such organizations is to help people to help themselves. The idea is not only to tide the beneficiaries over temporary difficulties, but to aid them in building up character by means of self-respecting effort.

Membership in such organizations brings opportunity for action and knowledge also of the bearings of one’s action. It makes charity something more than a matter of sentimental impulse. The opportunity to do good offered by these societies is not only an opportunity to help the poor, but to help one’s self, and even in other ways than the one generally acknowledged of broadening one’s sympathies and cultivating one’s heart. The gain a woman derives in discipline from working in concert with other women is of inestimable value. This discipline[350] is sometimes accompanied by vexations, as discipline commonly is, but, taken in the right spirit, it is broadening.

Charitable societies are often made up largely of women whose ideas of business are chaotic, whose capacity for speech is not at all equal to their capacity for work. The time spent by such people in idle discussion at business meetings is wearing, but it is not altogether unprofitable. The better trained women must do what they can to improve the situation. When they can not improve it, they must grin and bear it. Even with the drawbacks named, organization pays. The experience of many is a richer thing than the experience of one; and, when it comes to action, concerted action is a more powerful thing than single and individual effort.

One can not help all the causes one would like to help, or belong to the organizations that represent them. One should select that charity which appeals to one most or where one feels one can do the most good, and one should make attendance upon its meetings and the other work of the society a part of one’s regular duties. The sorrows of one’s life often suggest the charity one cares most to aid. Women who have lost little ones feel a drawing of the heart toward the society that helps children. Women who have seen much of pain and suffering[351] in their own families wish to join a society that makes the burden of the sick poor as light as possible. Those who have seen sympathetically the loneliness and bitterness possible to old age, wish to help the aged poor. And the determining personal experience makes the work of charity so much richer and more effectual.

One should not leave the subject of one’s duty to organized philanthropy without a word concerning the work of the social settlement, the greatest philanthropic movement of the day. The idea at the bottom of settlement work, the idea that the rich or the comfortably situated must live with the poor, must know their lives by direct and continuous contact in order to exert any lasting influence for good, is a noble idea in itself and one that is singularly attractive to ardent spirits.

Unfortunately, fashion and the novelty of the life involved in the experiment has made social settlement work attractive to many people for somewhat selfish reasons. Such people should be discouraged from going into it—first, because they hurt the cause. They do not know how to get on with poor people, and often their ill-disguised curiosity amounts to insolence and hurts those whom it is intended the work should benefit. The second reason is that these people who, through excitement[352] and love of novelty, leave their homes for settlement work are often needed at home. It is much the vogue just now for young women just out of college to do a year of social settlement work. If they have what Methodists name “the call,” and have no more urgent and intimate duties behind them, this is very well. But if it means deserting home tasks because they are dull and unexciting, it is well enough to think twice before the mother of the family is left to face all the disagreeable issues of home life. This is one of those cases where charity at home is of more importance than charity abroad. Of social settlement work, seriously and earnestly considered, it is impossible to say too much in commendation.

The philanthropic impulse of a generous heart is not satisfied with giving to organizations or working for them. One must do in other and private ways in order to satisfy one’s heart and conscience. One should help many people through ties of service, of love or of friendship. In time of need, one should remember those people who have lived as domestics in one’s family, or who have been connected in some humble capacity with the business of the head of the house. These persons, if they have been faithful to one’s interests, one helps with a personal enthusiasm that is, of course, lacking in[353] the case of strangers. Faithful or unfaithful, one knows something about them, and can figure out easily what is the wisest as well as the most grateful manner of doing for them.

Then there is the poor relation whom we have always with us and, in the helping of whom, all the tact of which one is possessed is not too much to use. The very fact that he or she, as the case may be, must accept favors from one of the same blood and, therefore, in every sense but the financial, of the same rank in life, makes the graceful bestowal of the gift a matter that is hard to compass. To pass on the gown one has laid aside so that there shall seem to be no condescension in the act; to explain successfully that one sends money at Christmas because one was uncertain what would be the proper gift to buy; in fine, to give with a broad sympathy that, for the minute, gives the donor an insight into the other’s disappointments and vexations—this is what is needed in dealing with the poor relative.

A flavor of even greater grace and delicacy must go into the gift offered by the rich friend to the poor one. It is one of the privileges of the generous rich, not only to feed the starving body but sometimes to feed the starving soul, not only to provide bread and butter but to minister to a starved[354] sense of beauty and of joy. To give pictures and books to those who love them but can not buy, to give a year at college to some nice young fellow whose parents can not do for him, to give pretty trinkets to a pretty young girl who lives in a house where there is no money to spare for such things—these gifts of friendship are one of the greatest privileges of a large income. Though not counted commonly as charity, they come under the head of charity in its biblical significance of love and sympathy.

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CHAPTER XXXVI
COURTESY FROM THE YOUNG TO THE OLD

THE pessimist, reading the heading of this chapter, would be inclined to ask if one writes nowadays of a lost quantity. While we do not consider the grace of courtesy as entirely lost, we are at times tempted to think that it has “gone before,” and so far before that it is lost sight of by the rising generation.

The days have passed when the hoary head was a crown of glory, as the royal preacher declares. It is certain that if it is a crown, it is one before which the youth of the twentieth century do not always bow.

Before we condemn the young unsparingly for their lack of reverence, we must look at the other side of the question. To-day there are few old people. First, there is youth. That lasts almost until one is a grandparent; then one is middle-aged. No one is old,—at least few will acknowledge it. The woman of forty-five is on “the shady side of thirty,” she of sixty-five, is “on the down slope[356] from fifty.” And, even when the age is announced, one is reminded that “a woman is only as old as she feels.” There is sound common sense in all this. Can not we afford to snap our fingers at Father Time and his laws, when the law within ourselves tells us that we are young in heart, in feeling, in aims? So the principle that bids us shut our eyes at the figure on the mile-stone we are passing is a good one. As long as we feel fresh still for the journey, as long as every step is a pleasure, what difference if the walk has been five miles long or fifteen? We judge of the strain by the effect it has had on us. If we feel unwearied and ready for miles and miles ahead of us, who shall say that the walk has been ten miles long, when we are conscious in our energetic limbs that it has only been two delightful miles?

The fact that no one is now old has its effect on the Young Person in our midst. She hesitates to say to the matron, “Take this seat, please!” when she knows that in her soul the matron will resent the insinuation that she is on the downward grade. Not long ago I witnessed the chagrin of a woman of thirty-five who rose and gave her seat in a stage to a woman who was, if one may judge by the false standard of appearances, at least fifteen years her senior. The elderly woman flushed indignantly:

“Pray keep your seat, madam!” she commanded[357] in stentorian tones. “I may be gray-headed, but I am not old or decrepit!”

I fancy that one reason gray hair is becoming fashionable is this desire to cling to youth. Every year more young women tell us that they are prematurely gray, and their sister-women add eagerly, “So many women are, nowadays!”

Our Young Person must, then, be very careful how she displays the feeling of reverence for age which, we would like to believe, is inherent in every well-regulated nature. She must exercise tact, without which no person will have popularity.

One point in which Young America displays lamentable vulgarity is in the habit of interrupting older people. Interruptions, we of a former generation were taught, are rude. That is a forgotten fact in many so-called polite circles. And when people do not interrupt they seem to be waiting for the person speaking to finish what he has to say in order to “cut in” (no other expression describes it fitly) with some new and original remark. That is, apparently, the only reason that one listens to others,—just for the sake of having some one to answer. The world is full of things, and getting fuller every day, and unless one talks most of the time he will never be able to air his opinions on all points. And every one’s opinion is of priceless value,—at least to himself. This seems to be the[358] attitude of Young America. Yet in courtesy to the hoary head one should occasionally pause long enough to allow the owner thereof to express an opinion. Although one has passed fifty, one may, nevertheless, have sound judgment and ideas on some subjects that are worth consideration. I wish young men and women would occasionally remember this.

The woman of sixty, or over, can really learn little of value from her granddaughter,—even when that granddaughter is a college graduate, and has all the arrogance of twenty years. Of course, grandmother may need enlightenment on college athletics, on golf, even, perhaps, on bridge,—although that is very doubtful, if she lives in a fashionable neighborhood. But, after all, these are not the greatest things of life. She would, perchance, be glad to listen to her young relative’s accounts of her sports if she would take the trouble to tell the happenings that interest her in a loving respectful spirit. Our elderly woman does not like to be patronized, to be told that she dresses like an old fashion-plate, and that she is, to use the slang of the day, a “back number.” The grandmother knows better. She has lived and she is sure that from her store of knowledge of life—of men, women and things as they really are—she could bring forth treasures, new and old, that would be of great help[359] to the hot-headed, impulsive young girl about to risk all on the perilous journey that lies before her.

I would, therefore, suggest that Our Girl practise deference toward her elders. At first she may not find it easy, but it is worth cultivating. It is, moreover, much more becoming than arrogance and aggressiveness, too common nowadays. There is something wrong when a person feels no respect for one who has attained to double or treble her years. There is something lacking. The collegians of both sexes would do well to turn their analytical minds on themselves, and, as improvement is the order of the day, add to their fund of becoming attainments the sweet old-fashioned attribute of courtesy and reverence toward age.

It is easy, after all, if one will watch carefully, to do the little kind thing that makes for comfort, and not do it aggressively. It is not necessary to adjust a pillow at the elderly person’s back as if she needed it. I saw a sweet woman put a pillow behind an invalid with such tact that the sufferer, who was acutely sensitive on the subject of her condition, did not suspect that her hostess had her illness in mind.

“My dear,” said this tactful woman, “if you are ‘built’ as I am, you must find that chair desperately uncomfortable without a cushion behind you! I simply will not sit in it without this little bit of a[360] pillow wedged in at the small of my back. I find it so much more comfortable so, that I am sure you will.”

And the cushion was adjusted. Could even supersensitive and suspicious Old Age have resented such attention?

Of course elderly people like to talk. Why should they not be allowed to do it? The boy or girl listener is impatient of what he or she terms inwardly “garrulousness.” Is not the prattle of youth as trying to old people? But, to do them justice, unless they are very crabbed, they listen to it kindly.

Unfortunately, one seldom sees a young person rise and remain standing when an old person enters the room. Yet to loll back in a chair under such circumstances is one of the greatest rudenesses of which a girl or boy is capable.

Right here, may I put in a plea for the old man? In the first place, he is not so popular as the old woman. She is often beloved; he, poor soul! is too often endured. In very truth he is not so lovable as his lady-wife. He did not take the time while he was young to cultivate the little niceties of life as she did. Women have more regard for appearances than men have, and their life is not spent so often in counting-room and office; they are, in their daily life, surrounded by refined persons more[361] than are their husbands; they do not have to talk by the hour with rough men, give orders to surly underlings, eat at lunch counters, and join in the morning and evening rush-for-life to get a seat in the crowded car or train where the law is “Sauve qui peut!” or, in brutal English “Every man for himself”—no matter who—“for the hindmost!” All these things, after years and years, influence the man or woman. It is inevitable. It even affects the inner life. The Book of books tells us that though the outward man perish, the inward man is renewed day by day. Sometimes the inward man is hardly worth renewing at the end of a life of such rush and mad haste after the elusive dollar that there has been no place for the gentle amenities of existence. Therefore, as the man gets old, his nature comes to the front, and, too often, the courtesies that were pinned on him by a loving wife, and kept polished up by her, drop off and he does not want to bother to have them readjusted. Consequently, he often has habits that are not pretty. He is irascible; he is intolerant with youth, and, now that he is laid aside, he likes to tell of what he did when he was as active as the young men about him. Dear young people, let him talk! Listen to him, and remember that at your age he was just as agreeable as you. Consider, too, that if, when you are old, you would escape being the self-absorbed being you think him,[362] you would do well now to begin to avoid the selfishness and self-absorption that you find make the old man objectionable. Practise on him, and he will in his old age still be doing a good work.

It is not pleasant to feel old, to know that you are set aside in the minds of others as “a has-been.” There are few more cruel lessons given to human beings to learn in this hard school we call life. And this task has to be learned when strength and courage wane, and the grasshopper is a burden. If young people would only make it unnecessary for the older person to acquire it! It lies with youth to make the declining years of those near the end of the journey a weary waiting for that end, or a peaceful loitering on a road that shall be a foretaste of a Land in which no one ever grows old.

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CHAPTER XXXVII
MISTRESS AND MAID

THEY were not foreordained from all eternity to be sworn enemies. Could that fact be impressed on the mind of each, there would be less friction between them.

Where, in this day and in this country, is found the family servant who follows the fortunes of her employers through adversity and evil report, asking only to be allowed to live among those who have shown her kindness, who have taught her all she knows, and who have been kinder to her than her own family have been? She may exist in the imagination of the optimistic novelist,—but not in reality. Once in a great while such a servant, well-advanced in life, is found,—but she is a rara avis.

On the other hand, it should be remembered that the burden of blame and of responsibility for improvement rest with the woman of larger opportunity. If we heard considerably more of “the mistress problem,” we should probably hear less of the servant one.

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It is trite to say that in this country the servant matter is all askew. We know that, and it is incumbent on us to make the best of matters as we find them. To do this both mistress and maid should be impressed with the fact expressed in the opening sentence of this chapter. As matters now are, the maid sees in the mistress a possible tyrant, one who will exact the pound of flesh, and, if the owner thereof be not on her guard, will insist on a few extra ounces thrown in for good measure. The mistress sees in the suspicious girl a person who will, if the chance be offered her, turn against her employer, will do the smallest amount of work possible for the highest wages she can demand; break china, smash glass, shut her eyes to dirt in the corners, and accept the first opportunity that offers itself to leave her present place and get one that demands fewer duties and larger pay.

One of the great mistakes of the mistress is that she lets the state of affairs greatly disturb her. Why should she? The maid is not “her own kind,” and the woman is wrong who judges the uneducated, ill-reared hireling by the rules that govern the better-educated classes. The servant and the employer have been reared in different worlds, and to ignore this fact is folly. How often do we see the mistress “hurt” because of Norah’s lack of consideration for[365] her and her time, and vexed because the servant fails to appreciate any kindness shown her? Let her accept the condition of affairs as what the slangy boy would call “part of the game,” and not waste God-given nerve and energy in worrying over it. If she gets reasonably good return in work for the wages she pays, she should be content.

If a woman’s maid does something wrong or omits a duty, however important, if guests are present the mistake should be remedied as quietly as possible and without reproof. To rebuke a servant before others is a great unkindness to her and needlessly embarrasses the visitor.

The mistress should not expect a friend and counselor in the maid. Once in a while, one meets a servant who, by some accident, is capable of discerning the refinement of nature in her employer, and of respecting it. In this case, she will care more for the employer for knowing that she is trusted. It is a fact that, by appealing to the best in human nature—be that nature American, Irish, German or Scandinavian—we elicit the best from our fellow creatures. Let the mistress, then, try to believe in the good intentions of her servant, or, if she can not really believe in them, let her attempt to do so. Her attitude of mind will, unconsciously to herself, make itself felt upon her helper. Let her take it[366] for granted that the “new girl” means to stay, is honest, trustworthy and anxious to please, and let her talk to her as if all these things were foregone conclusions. She may show by gentle manner and kindly consideration that Norah or Gretchen is a sister-woman, not a machine. If a washing or ironing happens to be heavy, let her suggest a simple dessert of fruit, instead of the pudding that had been planned. And if the maid’s heavy eyes and forced smile show that she is not well, let the mistress, for a brief moment, put herself in the place of the hireling, and think what she would want done for her under similar circumstances. She will then suggest that some of the work that can be deferred be laid aside until the following day, or offer to give a hand in making the beds or dusting the rooms.

“But,” declares the systematic housewife, “I do not hire a servant,—and then do my housework!”

No! Neither did you hire your maid-of-all-work to be a sick nurse,—but were you ill it would be she who would cook your meals, carry up your tray and take care of you, unless you were so ill as to need the services of a trained attendant. Bear this in mind, and show the maid that you do bear it in mind.

It is a more difficult matter to get the servant to[367] look at the subject from this standpoint. She has not been educated to regard things from both sides. It is the custom of her cult to meet and, in conclave assembled, to compare the faults, foibles and failings of their employers. And when they do commend an employer for kind treatment it is, as a rule, only to make the lot of another servant look darker by contrast with the bright one depicted.

“Oh, me dear!” exclaims Bridget on entering Norah’s kitchen at eight-thirty in the evening and finding her still washing dishes. “And is this the hour that a poor hard-working girl is kept up to wash the dinner-things? There are no such doin’s in my kitchen, I tell ye! My lady knows that I ain’t made of iron, and she knows, too, that I would not put up with such an imposition!”

The fact that Norah’s mistress has helped her all day with the work, that she is herself the victim of unexpected company, that she regrets as much as Norah can that the unavoidable detention at the office of the master of the house has made dinner later than usual, does not deter the suddenly-enlightened girl from feeling herself a martyr, and the seed of hate and distrust is quick to bear fruit in an offensive manner and a sulky style of speech.

She does not pause to take into consideration that, while she may just now be doing extra work, she also receives daily extra kindnesses and consideration[368] that were not agreed upon in the contract of her hire.

There are just two rules that make the relations of mistress and maid tolerable or pleasant. One is that everything be put on a purely business basis—an arrangement hardly practical in domestic labor. The other rule, and the better, is that a little practical Christianity be brought into the relationship,—that the maid do her best, cheerfully and willingly, and that the mistress treat her in the same spirit, giving her little pleasures when it is within her power to do so, trying to smooth the rough places, and to make crooked things straight. Then, let each respect the other and make the best of the situation. If it is intolerable, it may be changed. If not intolerable, let each remember that there is no law, human or divine, that demands that the contract stand forever—and let each dissolve the partnership when she wishes to do so. Until this is done, mistress and maid should keep silence as to the faults of the other, trying to see rather the virtues than the failings of a sister-woman.

I wish that some word of mine with regard to this matter could sink into the mind of the mistress. I fear that it will never be possible to train the maid not to talk of her mistress to her friends. But the[369] employer should be above discussing her servants with outsiders. This is one of the most glaring faults of conversation,—one of the most flagrant breaches of conversational etiquette among women of refinement. The hackneyed warning that the three D’s to be banished from polite conversation are Dress, Disease and Domestics, has not been heeded by the average housewife, so far as the last D is concerned. She will fill willing and unwilling ears with the account of her servants’ impertinences, of their faults, of how they are leaving without giving warning, and of how ungrateful all servants are, until one would think that her own soul was not above that of the laundress, chambermaid and cook, whose failings she dissects in public. Such talk reminds one of the conversation with which Bridget regales an admiring and indignant coterie. With the uneducated hireling, it may be pardonable; in the case of the educated employer it is inexcusable.

The best-trained servants say “Yes, madam,” instead of “Yes, ma’am.” In England women as well as men servants are addressed by their surnames. The custom does not commend itself to our American ideas.

Women who keep only one maid should, if[370] possible, have the laundry work done out of the house. Only so can one be sure of a trim-looking servant to answer the door. And the appearance of the person who admits us to a house is taken, very justly, as a criterion of the domestic standards of the house. A popular novelist once divided the houses in a certain city into three classes: those that had maids, those that had maids without caps, and those who had maids with caps. A woman’s social standing need not depend on her having a maid at all,—she may “quite come to her own door,” as one snobbish woman puts it, but if she keep a maid, the maid should be properly dressed, and the cap is as essential a part of her dress as her apron.

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CHAPTER XXXVIII
THE WOMAN WITHOUT A MAID

THE thought of being without a maid strikes dismay to the heart of many a woman who can not be accused of laziness. She thinks of the manual toil connected with housekeeping as composed of a round of degrading tasks, and she can not imagine herself as performing these with dignity and attractiveness. The ugliness connected with doing Bridget’s work is what repels, and it must be confessed, at the start, that dust and dish-water are not agreeable things to contemplate, though hemmed squares of clean cheese-cloth for the one and plenty of good soap in the other tend to reduce disagreeable qualities to a minimum. One half, at least, of the prejudice many women, not financially prosperous, feel against “doing their own work,” as the phrase curiously goes, is the aversion to doing unbeautiful things. The other half rises from the sense of dismay in attempting that in which one has had no practise, for which one has had no previous preparation. The tasks connected with housekeeping[372] are many and various; and if one is called to face them without experience or a system, the result is apt to be pandemonium until the mistress-maid is broken in. It is a pity, however, to approach the work with the idea that it is necessarily distasteful and disagreeable. Most women have some natural aptitude for domestic service. When properly trained they like it, or, at least, parts of it. What they lack often is not aptitude but practise; and, instead of expecting to gain skill through practise, as they would in other departments of work, they expect it to come by inspiration. Housekeeping is a science and an art. More even than this, it is a business, and needs, exactly as the business of a man does, time and patience for its conquest.

A sub-professor on a small salary in one of our best eastern educational institutions married a charming young woman with a wise head on her pretty shoulders. Her thought was that she could best help him by doing the work of a maid. Her name wherever known had been a synonym for exquisite taste, and she lost nothing of this in the conduct of her new rôle. Ugliness of any sort was not in her scheme of things. She determined that she should be no less pretty in her husband’s eyes because of the part she was to play in his kitchen. She[373] had made for herself eight blue and white striped seersucker gowns with broad hems on the short skirts and with plain shirt-waists. The sleeves were made elbow length, so as not to incommode her in her work, and a turnover collar of white which left her throat free was at once comfortable and becoming. With these dresses she wore dark aprons or white ones, according to the work she was doing. Her husband and friends declared she had never looked more pleasing than while “in service.” She was an excellent refutation of the idea that a woman must look slovenly when doing household tasks. Though “dressing the part” seems a small beginning toward getting the work of a house done, it is a helpful beginning because it affects the spirits. A working woman needs working clothes. If they be pretty as well as comfortable and appropriate, they give an impetus toward cheerful labor that is not to be lightly estimated.

A woman who learns to be her own maid and makes a success of the work must adopt it as a business and must devote herself to her tasks with regularity and system. She must be firm against intrusion and interruption from the outside world. She must adopt housekeeping as a profession and aim not merely at completing the daily round but at achieving an excellence that will in time impart[374] interest to the work. Order and simplicity are the two laws she must obey if she is to get through with dignity and self-respect. An order of the day and an order of the week must be made out and followed as far as possible. System and arrangement are the great time savers. To sit down at one’s desk once a day or once a week and make out conscientiously a list of all the things necessary to be done in the time named, then divide and tabulate these according as seems best,—this use of the brain will economize time and will save many a weary step.

Orderliness in work leads most directly to that harmony and peace in housekeeping which the average woman is so fearful of losing when she takes up the labor for herself. The writer used frequently to take luncheon at the house of a clever friend who cooked and served the meals. Her cooking could always be counted on as delicious; but it was the serving, that Scylla and Charybdis in one, of most women who must “do” entirely for themselves, that astonished and delighted one. On a side-table, ready for her hand, were placed the extra dishes needed. On this, too, was room for those things only temporarily necessary on the dining-table. The occasions when the hostess must rise to serve her guests were reduced by the perfection of her arrangements to a minimum. When she was compelled to visit pantry or kitchen, she left the[375] table without a flurry and was back with the article in question almost before one realized her departure. This grace in service was partly, of course, a matter of nature, but it was largely due to trained and systematic habits of work. These oiled the wheels of housekeeping and made them run more or less smoothly.

The woman without a maid must cultivate simplicity as well as order in her household arrangements. To do this requires some originality of soul and mind. She must model her work not upon what her neighbors and friends do, but upon what she thinks necessary to be done for the comfort and good health of herself and those dependent upon her. She must not attempt more things than she can do well. Many a young woman who starts out with joyous intention to be cook for husband and family, fails in her intention by reason of planning too large a bill of fare. For beginners, at least, it is well to cut out made desserts and pretentious salads. A cream soup with a broiled steak, potatoes nicely cooked, lettuce with a French dressing, coffee and fruit, make a dinner which, if neatly served, affords nourishment and delight to the ordinary man. How much better to attempt nothing more than this and make a success of it than to try for roast, two or three vegetables, an intricate salad[376] and a pudding,—to have these imperfectly achieved and awkwardly served. For it goes without saying that it is much more difficult to serve an elaborate than a simple meal. Also the elaborate meal demands for serving many more dishes, and the extra dishes make added work in the dish-washing which follows a meal as the night the day. Simplicity of living must be the aim of the woman who does her own work. It is only by cultivating simplicity that she can live restfully and with the taste that makes for beauty.

In a household where no servant is employed each member of the family should regularly perform certain duties. Where there is a family of some size all the work should not be crowded upon the shoulders of the mistress. If one person does the dusting, another the mending, another the cooking, another the sweeping, and so on through the list of necessary employment in a household, the burden need not fall too heavily upon any one. No paid servant can feel the interest in successful achievement that rewards the effort of those who are laboring for the convenience and beauty of their own home. A household conducted on plans of the most rigid economy may still be cheerful and even charming if the members of it choose to view the matter in a sort of Bohemian, picnicking spirit. If[377] the duties are assigned with regard to the tastes and capacities of each, no real hardship is involved and a spirit of gaiety is invoked by the concerted effort at producing comfort with the expenditure of little money.

An utter absence of pretense is the only graceful attitude in a home conducted in the way described. To be ashamed of the work one does and to try to conceal it results in an uneasy, hypocritical manner and deceives no one. “I almost opened my own door when she called on me,” said a silly, snobbish, impecunious woman in telling of the visit paid her by a rich resident of the neighborhood. The remark blinded no one and made the speaker ridiculous.

There are books of various kinds written for the help of the woman who must get on without a maid. These often can make for her a quicker and better path to her goal than she can work out alone and unaided. One of the best-known stories about the great English statesman, Charles James Fox, is of his learning to carve. He determined to make a conquest of this branch of knowledge as he did of any other attempted by him. Day after day he brought to the dining-table with him a book on carving, and cut the fowl or joint placed before him[378] in accordance with the rules of the book. His subsequent beautiful carving was the result of this method, of his willingness to learn the best way of doing whatever he attempted.

Reliable books on cooking, on the relative values of foods, on sanitary housekeeping, are not hard to find, while the magazines and papers are full of happy suggestions on these and kindred themes. A woman who intends to be her own maid should possess some reliable volumes on her subject, should make her work more interesting to herself and more valuable to her family by a reference to authorities on her subject. The more one knows about the work one has in hand, the more one is apt to care for it. And enthusiasm for one’s task, in its turn, begets good work.

No woman on whom falls the burden of keeping her own house should feel permanently discouraged. She may learn to do her task not only with comfort but with grace. The difficulties in her way can be surmounted through experience and study. If she has a natural liking for the ordering and managing of a house, her work may become a delight. “Why do you look so sad?” said one woman to another. “Because I have a perfect maid,” said the second. “All my life until recently I kept house for my husband[379] and myself. Housekeeping was my passion as music is yours. Now my husband insists that I shall keep a maid. She knows her business. It would spoil her if I helped. I am a stranger in my own kitchen. Wouldn’t you be unhappy if you had no opportunity to play Chopin and Beethoven? Well, I am miserable because I can’t concoct salads and soups.” This testimony to the joys of housekeeping is extreme, but it may serve to cheer some beginner in domestic labor who sees only duty but no pleasure in the work.

To feel that because one is limited in means one can not entertain is wholly mistaken. The young lady in a southern family in aristocraite Charleston, herself the granddaughter of a governor of the state and a member of the famous St. Cecilia Society, told the writer, who was a “paying guest” in the simple home, how she entertained her friends. “In the morning we whip up a cake, order cream, telephone the girls, and when they come, that’s the party!” But her own delightful spirit of hospitality, the perfection of her breeding, were the largest element in that party’s undoubted success.

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CHAPTER XXXIX
WOMAN IN BUSINESS RELATIONS

THE number of women who enter into business life and the number of avenues open to them for earning a living are constantly increasing. And however much we may be disposed to ridicule the agitation concerning woman’s progress and the rights of woman, no fair-minded person can fail to recognize the happy changes such agitation in the last decade has wrought in the attitude of the world toward women who make their own way in it. The old-fashioned prejudice of gentility against a woman employing her powers to make money has very largely disappeared. Many a delicate-minded woman of the old school has lived in poverty or has incurred unwillingly financial obligations to family connections because of the prejudice against her doing something for herself, because of the feeling that her social position, a matter naturally of high importance to a woman, would be injured by her stepping out of the family niche and picking up something for herself on the highway open to all.[381] She feared more even than this, perhaps, the loss of those particularly feminine attributes and charms so dear to every real woman’s heart. In the old-fashioned conception of a woman who worked outside of her own home, it used to be taken for granted that she must be denied social consideration and must give up her share of fun in the world.

All this is now a matter of history, and is recalled only for the purpose of showing the contrast between her former outlook and her present one. Except in a few ultra fashionable communities in the United States, the social position of a woman in business is not affected unhappily by her work. Provided she has the qualities requisite for social recognition and consideration, her business is no detriment. She has the same general opportunities for social recreation that offer themselves to a man of business, and it often happens that her work gives a zest to the enjoyment of such opportunities, unknown to women of idler habits. The writer has in mind, as an example, an engaging young woman who serves most acceptably as attendant in the public library of a western city. Her duties keep her from nine in the morning till six in the evening, but they have not, in the least, obscured her charmingly agreeable personal quality. She is much in demand. The number of her masculine admirers is large enough to excite the envy of many a girl[382] whose father’s bank-account is a large one. The attention she gives to her work seems to impart an added vivacity to her playtime.

Notwithstanding the fact, however, that a woman may enjoy the leisure she has for social demands as much after entering business life as before, she must not carry the little graces and amenities of society into business life. Business is business with a woman as well as a man, and the woman who succeeds in the calling she has chosen is the one who does not attempt to mix its details with matters of a more recreative nature. She must not expect to win favors by any but the straightforward method of doing her work well. The prejudice which so long existed among men against women in business relations was partly caused by the thought that they could never forget that they were women, could never discuss work or business relations on impersonal and rational grounds. The first lesson a woman must learn in making her own way financially is to appreciate the fact that the office, the shop, whatever be her place of employment, is no place for superfluous courtesies. The cultivation of a cool, matter-of-fact, unsentimental way of looking at the work in hand, is the only path to honorable achievement.

[383]

What a woman wears, cheap moralists to the contrary, is always important. It is especially important in business relations because the impression she creates is, to a considerable degree, dependent upon it. The self-supporting woman, when about her work, should not dress elaborately or conspicuously. Bright colors, jewels, extreme hats should be rigidly barred from her wardrobe. She should be dressed quietly but becomingly, with exquisite neatness and, to a reasonable extent, in the prevailing mode. A quiet elegance in style, care in the manner of putting on her clothes,—these go a long way toward creating the proper appearance for the woman in business. Human nature being as it is, the properly gowned woman of business has a far better chance than the one who is dowdily dressed.

The habit of many young girls in the business world of wearing sleeves that do not come to the elbow and displaying an amount of chest that would be proper only at an evening party, is a serious mistake. Another mistake is the marked preference for wearing, even in winter time, white shirt-waists. If these waists are to be really fresh and fit for wear, a new one must be put on every day, and that is an expense that the wearers clearly can not afford.[384] Dark dresses, with touches of white at neck and wrists, are a much wiser choice when one must economize.

It is very commonly said that men have larger interests than women, and that one reason for this lies in the fact that, in their every-day work, they form, naturally and easily, relations with many people; whereas a woman’s relations with the world too often come through the more artificial channels of pleasure. A woman in business has the same opportunity for meeting people on real ground that a man has. She should take advantage of these openings to healthful communication with her kind. We have all come in contact with women who have been thus broadened and have realized in them a kind of attraction not to be found in women leading more secluded lives. It is well in summing up the pros and cons of the business woman’s life to lay stress on her advantages, and the one just named is one of which she should make the most.

Women, as a class, are sometimes accused of a lack of method in the performance of their tasks. This is owing to the fact that the duties of domestic life may often be performed at any hour the housekeeper chooses, and that attention to them is not rigidly fixed as to time. A business career is often an effectual remedy for desultory habits. And this[385] is the reason that many women who have served a time as wage-earners come back to housekeeping with renewed energy and ability. The best housekeepers the writer has ever known were retired women of business. They put into the tasks of the home the method, the promptness they learned in a more exacting field.

However, women who are engaged the greater part of the day in offices, libraries, in shops, should not be expected to engage to any large degree in household duties. It sometimes happens that the members of a family circle, in which one woman goes out to earn her bread and butter, have little consideration for her tired state of mind and body when she leaves her work and returns to her home. They expect of her a double duty, and this is manifestly unfair. It is most important that a business woman have rest or diversion in her spare time, so that she will not get into a rut, so that she may do justice to her work.

Her family should not forget that her money-making powers will be crippled by forced attention to other duties. Men are treated far more considerately in this regard than women. Nothing is allowed to interfere with the average business man’s arrangements. To facilitate these, everything possible is done by his family. This may be because[386] men are more insistent, because they have a way of demanding their rights. It would be well for women in business, well also for their families, that they should “look sharp” and pursue the same policy.

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CHAPTER XL
A FINANCIAL STUDY FOR OUR YOUNG MARRIED COUPLE

THIRTY years ago I held a heart-to-heart talk with reasonable, well-meaning husbands on the vital subject of the monetary relations between man and wife.

I quote a paragraph, the force of which has been confirmed to my mind by the additional experience and observation of three more decades than were set to my credit upon the age-roll when I penned the words:

“I have studied this matter long and seriously, and I offer you, as the result of my observation in various walks of life, and careful calculation of labor and expense, the bold assertion that every wife who performs her part, even tolerably well, in whatsoever rank of society, more than earns her living, and that this should be an acknowledged fact with both parties to the marriage contract. The idea of her dependence upon her husband is essentially false and mischievous, and should be done[388] away with, at once and forever. It has crushed self-respect out of thousands of women; it has scourged thousands from the marriage-altar to the tomb, with a whip of scorpions; it has driven many to desperation and crime.”

I have headed this chapter “A Financial Study for Our Young Married Couple,” because I have little hope of changing the opinions and custom of the mature benedict. Our youthful wedded pair should come to a rational mutual understanding in the first week of housekeeping as to an equitable division of the income on which they are to live together.

If you—our generic “John”—shrink from coming down to “cold business” before the echoes of the wedding-bells have died in ear and in heart, call the discussion a “matter of marriage etiquette,” and approach it confidently. And do you, Mrs. John, meet his overtures in a straightforward, sensible way, with no foolish shrinking from the idea of even apparent independence of him to whom you have entrusted your person and your happiness?

It is, of course, your part to harken quietly to whatever proposition your more businesslike spouse may make as to the just partition, not of his means, which are likewise yours, but of the sums you are respectively to handle and to spend. Do not accept what he apportions for your use as a benefaction.[389] He has endowed you with all his worldly goods, and the law confirms the endowment to a certain extent. You are a co-proprietor—not a pensioner. If, while the glamour of Love’s Young Dream envelops and dazes you, you are chilled by what seems sordid and commonplace, take the word of an old campaigner for it that the time will come when your “allowance” will be a factor in happiness as well as in comfort.

May I quote to John another and a longer extract from the thirty-year-old “Talk concerning Allowances”?

“Set aside from your income what you adjudge to be a reasonable and liberal sum for the maintenance of your household in the style suitable for people of your means and position. Determine what purchases you will yourself make, and what shall be entrusted to your wife, and put the money needed for her proportion into her care as frankly as you take charge of your share. Try the experiment of talking to her as if she were a business partner. Let her understand what you can afford to do, and what you can not. If in this explanation you can say ‘we’ and ‘ours,’ you will gain a decided moral advantage, although it may be at the cost of masculine prejudice and pride of power. Impress upon her mind that a certain sum, made over to her apart from the rest, is hers absolutely, not a present[390] from you, but her honest earnings, and that you would not be honest were you to withhold it. And do not ask her ‘if that will do?’ any more than you would address the question to any other woman. With what cordial detestation wives regard that brief query which drops, like a sentence of the Creed, from husbandly lips, I leave your spouse to tell you. Also, if she ever heard of a woman who answered anything but ‘Yes!’”

Carrying out the idea of co-partnership, should your wife exceed her allowance, running herself, and consequently you, into debt, meet the exigency as you would a similar indiscretion on the part of a young and inexperienced member of your firm. Treat the extravagance as a mistake, not a fault. Not one girl-wife in one hundred, who has not been a wage-earner, has had any experience in the management of finances. The father gives the daughter money when she (or her mother) tells him that she needs it, or would like to have it. When it is gone he is applied to for more. She has been a beneficiary all her life, usually an irresponsible, thoughtless recipient of what is lavished or doled out to her, according to the parental whim and means.

Teach her business methods, tactfully, yet decidedly.

One young wife I wot of began keeping the expense-book,[391] presented to her by her husband, with these entries:

“January fourth. Received $75.00 (Seventy-five dollars).

“January sixth. Spent $70.25 shopping, etc.

“Balance—$4.75 set down to Profit and Loss.”

After fifteen years of married life her husband died, bequeathing the whole of a large estate to her, and making her sole guardian of their three children,—a confidence fully justified by her conduct of the affairs thus committed to her.

“My husband trained me patiently and thoroughly,” she said to one who complimented her financial sagacity. “I was an ignoramus when we were married.”

Then, laughingly, she related the “profit and loss” incident.

It is the fashion to sneer at women’s business methods. Who are to blame for their blunders?

Should your wife play with her allowance, as a child with a new toy, let censure fall upon those who have kept her in leading-strings. Teach her gradually to comprehend her responsibilities. The sense of them will steady her unless she be exceptionally feather-brained. Be she wasteful or frugal, the allowance you have made to her is as honestly hers to have, to hold or to spend, as the third of your[392] estate which the law will give her in the event of your death.

“Settlements,” according to the English sense of the word, are not yet common in the United States. One American father, whose daughter was on the eve of marriage with an Englishman, ordered the prospective bridegroom out of the house when the foreigner queried innocently as to the “settlements” the future father-in-law intended to make upon his child.

A man with a reputation for fortune-hunting had nearly rid himself of the slur by insisting that his fiancée’s large estate should be settled absolutely upon herself. Her quondam guardian put a different complexion on the generous act by divulging the circumstance that the husband, by the same “settlement,” had made himself sole trustee of his wife’s property of every description.

While there are, perhaps, fewer purely mercenary marriages in our country than in any other, it can not be denied that a large proportion of enterprising young men act, consciously, or unwittingly, on the advice of the Scotchman who warned his son not to marry for money, but in seeking a wife, “to gae where money is.”

“Is he marrying her fortune, or herself?” asked[393] one gossip of another when an approaching bridal was spoken of.

“They say he is very much in love with her!” was the answer, uttered dubiously. “I fancy, however, that he would have repressed his passion, if she were a poor girl.”

Which brings us to a much more delicate matter than the division of the income earned, or inherited, by the bridegroom.

It is a fact that may have much significance—or none—that the bride makes no mention of endowing her husband with all, or any portion, of her worldly goods. It is likewise significant that laws (of man’s devising) take it for granted that her property goes with her, so that in most of our states it is his without other act of gift than the marriage ceremony.

The man who marries for money has no scruples as to the acceptance and the use of it. Sometimes it is squandered; sometimes, but not often, it is hoarded; most frequently “it goes into the husband’s business” and is invested by him for the benefit of himself and his family.

The nicer issue with which we have to do is how our conscientious John, who would have married his best girl if she had not possessed one penny in[394] her own right, is to comport himself with regard to the fortune, modest or considerable, which she brings to him as dowry.

Briefly and clearly—as a trust not to be committed to the chances and changes of his individual ventures. No investment should be made of his wife’s money without her knowledge and full consent. In all that he does, where her funds are involved, he should be her actuary, and what profits result from “operations” with her funds should be settled on herself and children. By this course alone can he retain his self-respect, his reputation as an honorable man, and certainly disabuse his wife’s mind of any possible suspicion that his affection was not wholly for her.

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CHAPTER XLI
MORE ABOUT ALLOWANCES

THE arrangement between husband and wife concerning money matters should be no more definite and businesslike than that subsisting between father and children. To be taught early the real value of money is a distinct assistance to financial integrity in later life. To have in one’s possession, even as a child, a sum wholly one’s own, conduces to a feeling of self-respect and independence. As soon as a child is old enough to know what money is and that, for money, things are bought and sold, he should have an allowance, be it only a penny a week. Suggestions, but not commands, as to its expenditure should accompany the gift. Gradually the weekly or monthly amount should be increased, and instructions should be given as to its possible use.

A child may be advised properly to divide his small funds between pleasure and charity, or between the things bought solely for his own benefit and those for the benefit of others, the value of the[396] expenditure, in each case, being dependent on the freedom of his choice. As he grows older he should be taught to expend money for necessities. He should be trained to buy his own clothes and other personal belongings. This sort of training, often disastrously neglected, is of far more practical value than many things taught in the schools. The feeling of responsibility engendered in children or young people by trusting them with a definite amount of money for certain general purposes, can scarcely fail of a happy result. It binds them to a performance of duty while it confers, at the same time, a delicious sense of freedom. An allowance for necessities gives its recipient liberty of choice in expenditure, but the choice must be judicious or the recipient suffers. This it does not take him long to find out.

Many a man who refuses his sons and daughters allowances, permits them to run up large bills at the various shops where they trade. Exactly what the amount of these bills will be he never knows, except that it is sure to be larger than he wishes. The children of such a man never have any ready money. They do not know what to count on and, in consequence, not being trusted, they exercise all their ingenuity to outwit the head of the family and[397] to trick from him exactly as much money as possible. A young woman with somewhat extravagant tendencies, who belonged to the class of the unallowanced, begged her father for a new gown. She pleaded and pleaded in vain. Finally, he said if she had anything that could be made over, he would stand for the bill. This word to the wise was sufficient. She took the waist-band of an old gown to her modiste who built upon it a beautiful frock for which she likewise sent in a beautiful bill. Fortunately, this daughter had a father who was a connoisseur in wit, and who could appreciate a joke even at his own expense. But the example will serve, as well as another, to illustrate the lengths to which a woman may resort when not treated as a reasonable and reasoning creature about money matters.

“I would rather have one-half the amount of money of which I might otherwise have the use, and have it in the form of an allowance,” said a young woman who was discussing, with other young women, the subject of expenditures. “If I know what I am to have, I can spend it to much better advantage. I can exercise some method in my purchases. If I don’t know, I am likely to spend a large sum on some two or three articles with the hope that more is coming. Suddenly and unexpectedly[398] father sets his foot down on further bills, and there I am with a dream of a hat but no shoes, or with a ball gown and not a coat to my back.”

Money plays some part in the life of every human being belonging to a civilized nation. The question of successful and skilful expenditure is a vital question for the majority of people. It is not a question that can be solved without training. Yet we educate children in various unimportant matters, and, for the most part, leave this of money untouched. In no way can a child or a young person be taught so readily and so quickly the proper use of money as by limiting his expenses to a certain sum, which sum he nevertheless controls.

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CHAPTER XLII
A FEW OF THE LITTLE THINGS THAT ARE BIG THINGS

SEEING the prevalence of rudeness in human intercourse, one is forced to believe that the natural man is a cross-grained brute. That breeding and culture often convert him into a creature of gentleness and refinement speaks volumes for the powers of such influence. The average man seems to take a savage delight in occasionally giving vent to brutal or cutting speech. To yield thus to a primal and savage instinct is to prove that breeding and refinement are lacking.

There are certain business men who, during business hours, meet one with a brusk manner that would not be pardoned in a petty tradesman. If we visit them on their own business,—not as intruders,—it is the same. They seem to feel that a certain disagreeable humor is an indispensable accompaniment to the occasion. Such insolence is usually taken as a matter of course by the recipient, who immediately feels penitent at the thought of his intrusion.

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Too often the physician who is not a gentleman at heart trades on the fact that his patients regard him as a necessity, and is as disagreeable as his temper at the moment demands that he shall be. He intimates that he is so busy that he has scarcely time to give his advice; that the person he attends had no business to get ill, and, in fact, makes himself generally so disagreeable it is to be wondered at that the sufferer ever calls in this man again. Yet in a drawing-room, and talking to a well person, this man’s manner would be charming. One sometimes feels that sick people and physicians might well be classed as “patients” and “impatients.”

It is but fair to remark that, to the credit of physicians, it is not always those who have had the largest experience, or who stand at the head of their profession who deserve to come under the above condemnation. The men to whom the world looks for advice in the matters of which they have made a study, and who are sure of their standing, are often the gentlest, the most courteous.

Our busy men have need to remember that the man who is gentle at heart shows that gentleness in counting-room and office as well as in drawing-room and dining-room, and the fact that the person calling on him for business purposes or advice is a[401] woman, should compel him to show the politeness which

On the other hand, common courtesy and consideration for another demand that the person who intrudes on a man when he is busy should state his business briefly, and then take his departure. Only the busy man or woman knows the agony that comes with the knowledge that the precious moments of the working hours are being frittered away on that which is unnecessary, when necessary work is standing by, begging for the attention it deserves and should receive. Let him who would be careful on points of etiquette remember that there is an etiquette of working hours as well as of the hours of leisure and sociability.

Perhaps the lapse from good breeding most common in general society is the asking of questions. One is aghast at the evidence of impertinent curiosity that parades under the guise of friendly interest. Interrogations as to the amount of one’s income, occupation, and even as to one’s age and general condition, are legion and inexcusable. Every one who writes—be he a well-known author or a penny-a-liner—knows only too well the query,[402] “What are you writing now?” and knows, too, the feeling of impotent rage awakened by this query. Yet, unless one would be as rude as one’s questioner, one must smile inanely and make an evasive answer.

To ask no question does not, of necessity, mean a lack of interest in the person with whom one is conversing. A polite and sympathetic attention will show a more genuine and appreciative interest than much inquisitiveness.

A lack of interest in what is being told one is a breach of courtesy that is all too common. Often one sees a man or woman deliberately pick up a book or paper, open it and glance over it while his interlocutor is in the midst of a story he means to make interesting. If the conversation is interesting, it deserves the undivided attention of both persons; if what is being said is not worth attention, the listener should at least respect the speaker’s intention to please. There is nothing more dampening to conversational enthusiasm, or more “squelching” to eloquence, than to find the eyes of the person with whom one is talking fixed on a book or magazine, which he declares he is simply “looking over,” or at whose pictures he is “only glancing.”

A good listener is in himself an inspiration. Even if one is not attracted by the person to whom one is[403] talking, one should assume interest. This rule also holds good with regard to the attention given to a public speaker. In listening to a preacher or to a lecturer, one should look at him steadily,—not allowing the eyes to wander about the building and along the ceiling and walls. This habit of a seemingly fixed attention is easily cultivated. If one is really interested in the address, it aids in the enjoyment and comprehension of it to watch the speaker’s facial play and gestures. If one is bored, one may yet fix the eyes upon the face of the person to whom one is supposed to be listening, and continue to think one’s own thoughts and to plan one’s own plans. And certainly the person who is exerting himself for the entertainment of his audience will speak better and be more comfortable for the knowledge that eyes belonging to some one who is apparently absorbed in his address are fixed upon him.

One of the difficult things to do is to pass a criticism or make a suggestion as to the speech or manner of another person. Yet there are times when to refrain is to do the greatest unkindness to a person sincerely eager to learn. A happy solution is to include one’s self if possible in the censure given. “I’m afraid we were all a little boisterous to-night,” said a tactful woman of the world to a young girl[404] who really had been boisterous. She caught the criticism intended and yet felt no hurt at the speaker.

Conditions under which otherwise polite persons feel that they can be rude are those attendant on a telephone conversation. With the first word many a man drops his courtesy as if it were a garment that did not fit him. And women do the same. If “Central” were to record all that she (it seems to be usually a “she”) hears, and all that is said to her, our ears would tingle. True it is, that she sometimes is surly, pert and ill-mannered. But if she is ill-bred, that is no reason for the person talking to follow suit. Were one really amenable to arrest for profanity over the wires, the police would be kept busy if they performed their duty.

But putting aside the underbred who swears, let us listen for a moment to the so-called courteous person,—for he is courteous under ordinary circumstances:

“Hello! Central! how long are you going to keep me waiting? I told you I wanted ‘3040 Spring.’ Yes! I did say that! and if you would pay attention to your business you would know it! I never saw such a worthless set as they have at that Central Office. Got them, did you? It’s time! Hello, 3040, is that you? Well, why the[405] devil didn’t you send that stuff around this morning? Going to, right away, are you? Well, it’s time you did. What ails you people, anyway? No!! Central!!! I’m not through, and I wish to heaven you’d let this line alone when I’m talking,” and so on, ad infinitum.

Is all this worth while, and is it necessary? And must women, who, as they call themselves ladies, do not give vent to expressed profanity, so far copy the manners of the so-called stronger sex that they scream like shrews over the telephone?

Calling one day on a woman whom I had met with pleasure half a dozen times, I was the unwilling listener to her conversation with her grocer. She began by rating Central for not asking “What number?” as soon as the receiver was lifted from the hook. Having warmed up to business on this unseen girl, she got still more heated with the grocer at the other end of the wire. She had ordered one kind of apples, and he had sent her another, and the slip of paper containing the list of her purchases had an item of a five-cent box of matches that she had not ordered. With regard to all of which she expostulated shrilly and with numerous exclamations that were as near as she dared come to masculine explosives,—such as “Great Heavens!” “Goodness gracious!” and so forth. After threatening to transfer her custom[406] to another grocer, and refusing to accept the apology of the abject tradesman, she compromised by saying that she would give him another trial, and hung up the receiver, coming into the parlor and beginning a conversation once more in the even society voice I had invariably heard before from her.

That the ways of telephones and the persons who operate them are sometimes trying, no one can deny,—least of all, the writer of this chapter, who lives in a house with one of these maddening essentials to human comfort. But the loss of temper that manifests itself in the outward speech is not a requisite of the proper appreciation and use of the telephone. It is nothing less than a habit, and a pernicious one,—this way we have of talking into the transmitter. Let us remember that courtesy pays better than curses, and politeness better than profanity. If not, then let us have poorer service from Central and preserve our self-respect.

Never speak of calling a friend on the “phone.” The abbreviation is vulgar though one sometimes hears it on the lips of delightful people. But one should not make the mistake of justifying a solecism by saying “Mrs. So-and-so says it!” To study the graces and avoid the blunders of other people[407] should be the aim of those who aspire to be well-bred.

The breeding of a woman is often shown by the manner she uses when shopping or marketing. Courtesy to clerks, to tradesmen of every sort is the mark of a “lady,” the word used in that beautiful old-fashioned sense to which, alas! we have grown a little callous. While a customer has the right measurably to see what a shop affords before she makes her choice, she has no right to give a clerk the trouble of taking out everything when she has no intention of buying. If she gives much trouble before her decision as to a purchase is reached she should thank the clerk in charge for his extra labor. The fact that he is paid for his time does not make this duty the less.

Altercations with clerks and other subordinates in a shop are in execrable taste, are often a sign of an hysterical as well as a choleric temper.

If women should be considerate in their manner toward employees of the shops where they trade, it is quite as true that clerks should be trained to civility by their employers. For instance, a part of the duty of clerks is, of course, to keep watch over the articles sold. To do this it is not necessary,[408] however, to watch the customer as if she were a prospective thief. This attitude on the part of the clerk is not pleasant for the customer and does not encourage trade.

The suspicious attitude is, however, no worse than the familiar one employed by some of the young women serving in shops. A clerk who urges a customer to buy because the article in question has proved so satisfactory in her own family, or the young woman who calls one “dearie” or “honey” as she fits a cloak upon one or manipulates one’s millinery, makes a mistake. The relation between clerk and customer should be always formal and courteous on both sides.

Marketing is a branch of shopping in which many women not fundamentally ill-natured, have the appearance of being so. There is a kind of ugly scrutiny which many women apply to the inspection of vegetables, meat and other edibles that is most unattractive. If these women had an idea of the way they look when they bend their hard cold eyes upon the innocent vegetables and fruits, they would, at any cost, cultivate a more agreeable manner. Beware of the marketing stare. As for a string bag, if you have one put it in the furnace.

A rudeness of which people who should know[409] better are frequently guilty is that of criticizing a dear friend of the person to whom one is talking. This is not only ill-mannered, but unkind, and one of many flagrant violations of the Golden Rule. If a man loves his friend, do not call his attention to that friend’s failings, nor twit him on his fondness for such a person. He is happier for not seeing the failings, and if the friendship brings him any happiness, or makes life even a little pleasanter for him, do not be guilty of the cruelty of clouding that happiness. If the man does see the faults of him he loves, and loyally ignores them, pretend that you are not aware of the foibles toward which he would have you believe him blind. The knowledge of the peccadillos of those in whom we trust comes only too soon; we need not hurry on the always disappointing, often bitter knowledge.

Perhaps lack of breeding shows in nothing more than in the manner of receiving an invitation. Should a man say, patronizingly, “Oh, perhaps I can arrange to come,”—when you invite him to some function, write him down as unworthy of another invitation. He is lacking in respect to you and in appreciation of the honor you confer on him in asking him to partake of the hospitality you have devised.

“Really,” protests one man plaintively, “I am[410] very tired! I have been out every night for two weeks, and now you want me for to-morrow night. I am doubtful whether I ought to come. I am so weary that I feel I need rest.”

The stately woman who had asked him to her house, smiled amusedly:

“Pray let me settle your doubts for you,” she said, “and urge you not to neglect the rest nature demands. Your first duty is to her, not to me.”

The man was too obtuse or too conceited to perceive the veiled sarcasm, and to know that the invitation was withdrawn.

Unless one receives special permission from the person giving an invitation to hold the matter open for some good and sufficient reason, one should accept or decline a verbal invitation as soon as it is given. If circumstances make this impossible, one should apologize for hesitating, saying, “I am so anxious to come that I am going to ask your permission to send you my answer later, after I ascertain if my husband has no engagement for that evening,”—or some such form. The hostess will readily grant such a request.

It may seem far-fetched to speak of ingratitude as a breach of etiquette, but the lack of acknowledgment of favors is very much like it. The man who accepts all done for him as his due, who forgets[411] the “thank you” in return for the trifling favors, is not a gentleman—in that respect, at least. The young men and young women of to-day are too often spoiled or heedless, taking pretty attentions offered them as matters of course, and as their right.

In this miscellaneous chapter it may be well to enforce what is said elsewhere with regard to the respect every man should show to women. For instance, every man who really respects the women of his family will remove his hat when he enters the house. There are, however, men who kiss these same women with covered heads.

In a well-known play acted by a traveling company some years ago in a small town, the hero, standing in a garden, told the heroine he loved her, was accepted by her, and bent to kiss her without removing the conventional derby from his blond pate. All sentiment was destroyed for the spectators when irate Hibernian accents sounded forth from the gallery with: “Suppose ye take off yer hat, ye ill-mannered blokey!”

The Irishman was in the right.

I would say a word to those who, through bashfulness or self-consciousness, do the things they ought not to do and leave undone those things which[412] they ought to do. They are so uncomfortable in society, so afraid of not appearing as they should, and so much absorbed in wondering how they look and act, and wishing that they did better, that they are guilty of the very acts of omission and commission they would guard against.

If I could give one rule to the bashful it would be: Forget yourself and your affairs in interest in others and their affairs. Be so fully occupied noticing how well others appear and trying to make everybody about you comfortable, that you have no time to think of your behavior. You will then not be guilty of any flagrant breach of etiquette. The most courteous women I have ever known, those whose manners were a charm to all whom they met, were those who were self-forgetful and always watching for opportunities to make other people comfortable. Such are the queens of society.

If you do make a mistake take consolation from the fact—which will be apparent to you in time—that others do the same. Perfect good breeding is a state to which few attain absolutely. One should not make one’s self thoroughly unhappy by too constant self-criticism, for to do this is to disobey—paradoxically—a fundamental social law. The old negro who, when asked to describe what he meant by “quality folks,” expressed this law when[413] he answered, “Quality never doubts theirselves.” The beginner must doubt, but he should not agonize about it.

“Talking shop” is usually alluded to as a decided breach of etiquette. In many cases it is so, yet there are people who are never so entertaining as when doing this very thing, and there are companies in which it is entirely proper they should do it. One must use discretion. Certainly, no one should be forced to talk of his daily work if he evidently prefers not to do so. Physicians in particular should not be compelled to play the professional when they are trying to relax socially.

A party is not the place for propaganda. The hostess who may be an ardent advocate of votes for women should be sure that all her guests share her views before she dogmatically propounds them. She may indeed politely introduce the topic and if she merely does this, no one present has a right to take offense or should hesitate in the same spirit to speak of her own view. But the subject is likely to prove dangerous. The writer has seen charming women utterly lose control of themselves and all but maul one another over a “discussion” on equal suffrage.

A social mistake to be avoided is that of being[414] “touchy.” To be so occasions one great unhappiness and leads to serious mistakes in conduct. Do not allow yourself to find slights and affronts in the demeanor of those with whom you are thrown unless there is real foundation for the feeling. The mental attitude of fancying that others intend to wound us grows if it is indulged in and finally leaves us hopelessly out of key.

One of the most valuable of social acquisitions is the habit of greeting people in a delightful way. Learn to say “Good morning!” audibly, heartily, as if you meant it. Unless one means to be very informal one should add the name, “Good morning, Miss Smith.” We all know men and women who possess this grace of salutation which lingers happily on those on whom it is bestowed.

In meeting people for the first time one should take pains to get their names exactly right. There is something very personal in one’s feeling about one’s name and one has a right to have it spoken and written as one elects. If a man is named “Davies” he can not be blamed for resenting it if people indifferently address him as “Mr. Davis.” If people who make introductions would take more trouble to speak the name distinctly, this would help greatly. If the name is indistinctly uttered[415] you may say, “Pardon me, I did not understand the name?” which will generally bring forth a clear repetition.

Small matters, such as quiet breathing, betoken gentlehood. Flowers, if one is inhaling their perfume, should be treated delicately,—the face should not be buried in them. Remember Browning’s word,

It is frequently said that the weather, as a topic of conversation, is tabooed. But how charmingly Chesterton has defended it: “There are very deep reasons for talking about the weather ... it is a gesture of primeval worship ... to begin with the weather is a pagan way of beginning with prayer. Then it is an expression of that elementary idea in politeness—equality ... in that we all have our hats under the dark blue spangled umbrella of the universe.” Surely after reading so fine a plea, no one need fear to begin the morning’s conversation with a word on the weather!

One of the things that most women need to learn is the correct way of getting off a street-car, which is to step off with the right foot, facing[416] front, which saves awkwardness in every case and sometimes, if the car starts too soon, an accident.

Nothing more absolutely marks a lady than her manner toward her social inferior. She is kindly but never patronizing. A woman who was once being fitted for new shoes and who had inquired of the clerk who waited on her how his family were—the man had been at his post for many years and she called him by name—turned to a woman acquaintance who was waiting her turn and said, explanatorily, “I always speak to the butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker.” If this was her custom, why apologize for it?

When strangers are served at the same table in a hotel, they should bow and say “Good morning” or “Good evening,” on sitting down and on leaving. This polite custom, often ignored in America, is universal abroad.

If one wishes to ask a social favor such as a card for a friend to a ball to which you yourself have been asked, or a letter of introduction, it is better to make the request by note if possible, as this gives the other person more freedom to refuse if that seems necessary.

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When one alludes to an entire family by name, respect requires that the article “the” be prefixed. One’s friends are “the Smiths,” “the Browns,” etc.

Profuse compliment is as much to be avoided as undue or untactful criticism. We are annoyed by those who persistently overwhelm us with admiring comment. On the other hand, one should not hesitate to speak a sincere word that will give pleasure; one may without apology tell a friend that her new hat is unusually becoming or her dress artistic. There are people who pride themselves on “never saying anything disagreeable” and they succeed in being so very often and quite unconsciously because they lack savor. Arthur Benson, the English essayist, has amusingly pointed out how dull society would be if we turned it into a chorus of indiscriminate praise of how delightful A is, what a charming person is B, how altogether lovely is C. Perhaps the wisest rule is to draw a sharp line between those who are entitled in a strict sense to the all-devoted attitude of affection and those whom we merely like and find entertaining. Even the most patent faults and shortcomings of the former must be sacred—“A friend conceals the weaknesses of a friend.” Of the second class one may speak frankly though of course always in taste and without malice.

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CHAPTER XLIII
ON MANNER

WHILE it is important to master the minutiæ that govern the conduct of social life, it is well to remember that a good manner is to be desired even above good manners. “Not what she says but the way she says it” was the clever explanation made by an experienced society woman of the charm of a débutante. If one doubts this for a moment, one has only to recall the impression made now and then by a fine-mannered workman or a country woman who has never attended a “function” in her life. Such persons, by virtue of a native dignity of bearing, by a beautiful simplicity and a kindness of heart toward all men, would be at home in any assembly worthy to receive them. One can fancy that Stella, whom Dean Swift loved, would have been at ease in any society, even had she lacked her protector’s instruction and fostering care. We are told that she has civility, repose and humor, three great qualities that make[419] for social success. A well-known woman, describing those who possess savoir-faire, says: “They have the genius of tact to perceive, the genius of finesse to execute, ease and frankness of manner, a knowledge of the world that nothing can surprise, a calmness of temper that nothing can disturb, and a kindness of disposition that can never be exhausted.”

To learn to talk well and to listen well and to do either with grace as the conversational situation demands is a real accomplishment. One writer on the subject of conversation has given excellent advice: “Socialize every thought before you utter it.” In other words, one should bear in mind as vividly as possible the probable direction and extent of the sympathies and interests of the person to whom one is speaking and endeavor not to let his words go far afield from those sympathies and interests. Conversation is essentially a partnership game and, as in playing golf, the one who is talking should not get too far away from his listener. There have been people like Coleridge who did not converse but who spoke habitually in monologues and spoke so brilliantly that society was glad to listen. With ordinary men and women, however, there should be give and take. In listening, try to catch plumply a ball tossed to you and in return try to pitch your[420] own ball neither too high nor too low, too soft nor too hard.

It is not necessary, in order to be pleasant, to make one’s self what Emerson has happily called “a mush of concession.” Do not be afraid to have convictions of your own and at the proper moment to express them clearly. At the same time, one should avoid a dogmatic manner and any assumption that one’s own view is the only view worth having. The saying “Stick your opinions in nobody’s sleeve” is to the point. Utter your own ideas frankly but do not force their acceptance on any one. Even a good idea is likely to lose by any suggestion of insistence. It is well to make frequent use of the question form in beginning a new topic of discussion, to ask, “Do you admire Forbes-Robertson?” rather than “I admire Forbes-Robertson because, etc.” In the one case, you courteously include in your talk the one whom you are addressing, and, in the other, you simply use him as an audience for your own benefit. People who are given to the latter form are usually those who are fond of talking constantly which—it may be remarked—is a dangerous thing to do. The man or woman who says a great deal at one time is pretty sure to say something he will be sorry for. Besides, from a strategic point of view, the man who[421] is always talking himself does not learn; he has no chance to be finding where the other person stands, while, all the time, he is setting himself up as a target. A great teacher once said, “A wise man will hear and will increase learning.”

Not to talk constantly of one’s self and one’s affairs is, of course, a fundamental rule of good breeding and yet there are persons who know how to talk about themselves—on occasions when it is proper to do so—in a delightful way, because they have the instinct for speaking simply and without conceit. To speak of one’s ills of any sort is ordinarily a mistake. “Consume your own smoke.” “To walk gently, humbly, and, if possible, gaily with other men” is a charming rule for social conduct. One should be a lover of harmony. To differ abruptly from the one who is speaking may, in rare instances, be necessary, but only then. After all, the person who is “agreeable” is one who agrees. While one may not share one’s neighbor’s views in the whole, one may often seize on some point of it with which to sympathize and on which to set the seal of one’s approval. The clergyman who, at an evening party where a well-known woman had read a paper on Sir Oliver Lodge and his experiments in the occult, vehemently denounced all occultism, doubtless felt that his office demanded[422] this attitude, but he made his hostess and the other guests exceedingly uncomfortable.

Avoid the unfortunate habit that some persons have of snuffing out the candles of conversation. If any one introduces a topic, the reasonable inference is that he is interested in that topic and remark number two from you should not throw cold water on it. Do not merely listen, but attend, stretch mentally toward your companion, be with him in thought. “Find out where people are and meet them there.” Only in this way will you yourself gain the full measure of what the other person has to give and be able to reply to the finer points of his remark. A good rule in conversation is “when in doubt keep still.” Never be betrayed into talking merely because you are nervous. Arthur Vincent speaks somewhere of the unhappy spectacle made by the shy man who attempts to cover his shyness by garrulity. When you do speak, take all the time there is. That is to say, do not feel hurried or flurried. Speak when you speak—without fear and with dignity. Never press unduly any slight advantage you may acquire in conversation. Your companion is not your victim nor are you to shine as his superior. A fine manner is made up of many slight sacrifices.

If, in spite of yourself, you are drawn into a[423] heated, wordy and futile argument, you are justified in assenting to any claims whatsoever your unwise companion may make. It was the practise of Stella, says one of her biographers, to agree with such persons, as she said, “to save noise.”

If you attempt to tell a story, be sure, in the first place, that it is worth telling, and in the second place, that you know it thoroughly, and in the third place, that you tell it reasonably well. But the social company that is transformed into a succession of “good stories” does not represent the highest social plane. A particularly good story is always desirable if it comes in naturally to point some phase of a discussion that is in progress, but a run of stories represents an intellectual descent. In whatever you are telling or describing, beware of too much detail. Remember the French proverb, “To tell all is to be tedious.”

Cheerfully accord the other person the last word in any discussion, giving your own view once quietly and if it does not arouse interest, do not insist on it. Never raise your voice to command attention. Never spoil a fine moment by any disagreeable allusions. There are always some people who have a gift for introducing the subject of ptomaine poisoning during the fish course, or who, on an outing,[424] make all the other women uncomfortable by talking about snakes. Remember that comparisons are dangerous and that superlatives are also often the forerunner of embarrassment. Be prepared for surprises and do not allow them to throw you off your balance. Never allow yourself to become a fussbudget. Serenity is one great element of social charm. Du Maurier tells us that Trilby knew “when to speak and when to keep silence.” George Meredith, in his delightful romance, Sandra Belloni, says of Sandra, “She moved softly as if she loved everything that she touched.” A certain softness of manner is undoubtedly a large part of attractiveness, but the sharp edge of self-assertion destroys. The gentleness of Hamlet’s unhappy love is shown in the warning spoken before one of her entrances: “Soft you now, the fair Ophelia.” “Remember,” says a modern writer on voice training: “that every time you speak you touch some one with your voice.”

Beware of giving out violent opinions before knowing where the other person stands. This does not mean that you should be untrue to your own beliefs, but that you should, with one newly met, cast about for at least a plank on which you two may stand in friendly relation. It is the people who most accurately measure the common ground[425] between them and other people who make the most and the happiest friendships.

Never command even one who is paid to serve you. The same words put in the form of a request are equally effective and are much more creditable to you and grateful to the persons to whom they are spoken. English servants invariably say “Thank you” for any information or direction given them, but this smacks of servility and one hopes the custom will not be taken up in this country.

Never begin a conversation with “Say,” as “Say, Marjorie.” In a group conversation be careful to include, by voice and glance, every one in it.

Finally, be sure, as Emerson says, “that people like a room better with you in it than out of it,” and when you leave the room, learn to do it in a way that adds to the pleasure your presence has already given. Do not, for one thing, neglect to say good-by to every one present if the number is small. The grace with which some people take leave amounts to an art. Some one has recorded with delight “the exquisite, laughing farewells” of Mrs. Browning.

[426]

CHAPTER XLIV
SELF-HELP AND OBSERVATION

TO the uninstructed, socially, the bare rules and conventions regulating social life seem often meaningless and arbitrary. A careful consideration of these conventions, such as it has been the aim of this book to give, shows that no one of them is without a reason for its being. The classification, however, of social forms, together with the reasons governing these forms, does not provide a body of knowledge sufficient to serve as guide in the matter of comporting one’s self easily and to advantage socially. There are many situations and points of behavior that it is impossible for a book of etiquette to cover. The laws laid down are only a small social capital. They discuss the more obvious matters of social contact. Numerous points,—and these of the finer sort,—must be left without comment. In the treatment of these points and problems the person desirous of solving them properly must rely largely on his own good sense. One must apply to social exigencies the same methods[427] of reasoning that one applies in meeting the other exigencies of life. In a word, one must resort to the principle of self-help.

Much, too, and this in the pleasantest fashion, may be done to extend one’s knowledge of good form by observation of people who have unusual tact and social discrimination. In every city, town and village, there are such persons who are distinguished above their fellow citizens by social instinct, by the talent for performing gracefully and acceptably the offices of society. In differing degrees, but still perceptibly, these people, like the painter, the musician, the poet, are marked by a taste and a thirst for perfection. To render social life as interesting, as charming, as beautiful as possible, to make the social machinery run smoothly and without friction,—this is their aim. Such people give quality to social intercourse. They observe the little amenities of life with grace. They know how to enter a room and how to leave it. They convey by the bow with which they greet one on the street the proper degree of acquaintanceship or friendship. They dress with propriety. They take time by the forelock in the adoption of new devices for the entertainment of their friends. Their parties are the prettiest; their houses are the most popular. Not necessarily clever of speech, they are clever in small and charming activities.[428] They have a marked talent for all the little graces that make social intercourse easy and delightful. This talent, of course, can not be communicated, but much may be learned by watching its operation. Certainly one can gain from it a knowledge of particulars, of how to perform certain definite acts, even if the conquest of the method is impossible.

It is not difficult in any community to discover people who approach more or less nearly the type described. They have a recognized distinction. To watch them, and, by this means, to wrest from them a part at least of their secret, is the surest way for the individual, timid or unversed socially, to discover his own social power and to increase it.

Doubtless some of those who read this book may be disposed to ask why, in social life, so much stress is laid on comparatively small matters and why one can not do as one pleases? To these we recommend Gilbert Hamerton’s delightful essay, Custom and Tradition, addressed “To a young gentleman who had firmly resolved never to wear anything but a gray coat.” We quote briefly: “The penalties imposed by society for the infraction of very trifling details of custom are often, as it seems, out of all proportion to the offense; but so are the penalties of nature.... Nature will be obeyed. Society will be obeyed.... Society does not[429] desire to exclude you because you will not wear evening dress; but the dress is customary, and your exclusion is merely a consequence of your non-conformity. The view of society goes no farther in this than the artistic conception (not very delicately artistic, perhaps) that it is prettier to see men in black coats regularly placed between ladies round a dinner-table than men in gray coats or brown coats. The uniformity of custom appears to represent uniformity of sentiment.... Society does not argue the point with you, but only excludes you.”

THE END

[430]
[431]
[432]
[433]

INDEX

• Abbreviations, 3, 4
• Accepting invitations, 183
• Accounts, keeping, 391
• Acknowledging favors, 410, 411
• Acknowledging gifts, 169, 170, 173, 174
• Acquaintance between young men and young women, 132
• Addressing invitations, 1, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9
• Addressing letters, 31
• Addressing persons of political prominence, 34, 35
• Addressing the nobility, 41
• Afternoon receptions, 53, 54
• Afternoon receptions, correct dress, 54
• Afternoon receptions, refreshments for, 54
• After six o’clock, 43
• Allowances: children’s weekly sums, 395
• Allowances, expenditure of, 396, 397, 398
• Allowances for charity, 347
• Allowances, importance of, 395
• Allowances, value of, 396
• Anniversaries, 63
• Announcements, wedding, 86, 87
• Answering letters, 29, 36, 37
• Arrival at functions, 56, 57
• Asking questions, 401, 402
• “At Home” announcement through newspapers, 4
• “At Home” days, 17, 18
• “At Homes,” invitations to, 2
• “At Homes” of brides, 89
• Attendants, wedding, 70, 79
• Automobiling, etiquette of, 285, 286
•  
• Bachelor after-theater supper, 176
• Bachelor dinners, 179, 180, 181
• Bachelor hospitality: chaperon required, 176
• Bachelor hospitality: engaging chaperon for, 177
• Bachelor hospitality: form of entertaining, 176
• Bachelor hospitality: issuing invitations, 178
• Bachelor receptions, 176, 179
• Bachelor restaurant supper, 180, 181
• Bachelor tea, 176, 178
• Bashfulness, 412
• Birthday gifts, 171
• [434]Boarding-house, etiquette of, 249
• Boarding-schools, 113
• Boating, etiquette of, 288, 289
• Books, care of, 235
• Books, borrowing, 235
• Bouquets, bridal, 73, 82, 84
• Bowing, 240
• Box-party, correct seating of, 129
• Breakfast, wedding, 71, 72, 75, 76, 84, 85
• Bridegroom’s dress, 72, 82
• Bride’s dress, 72, 82
• Bridesmaid’s dress, 72, 82
• Bruskness, 399
• Business courtesy, 401
• Butler’s dress, 102
•  
• Call, who makes first, 25, 26
• Callers, refreshments for, 19, 20
• Calling after a bereavement, 22
• Calling-cards, 4
• Calls, 14
• Calls: after an invitation has been declined, 24
• Calls: “At Home” days, 17, 18
• Calls: conversation during, 127
• Calls: hours for, 26, 125, 126
• Calls: length of, 126
• Calls: leaving cards, 18, 19, 20
• Calls: on fiancée, 21
• Calls, on the sick, 26
• Calls, returning, 23
• Calls, social obligation of, 17
• Calls to offer sympathy, 23
• Canoeing, etiquette of, 288, 289
• Card-party, the, 56, 57
• Cards, 14
• Cards, calling, 14
• Cards, correspondence, 35
• Cards for an “At Home,” 2
• Cards for clergymen, 16
• Cards for evening reception, 3
• Cards for home wedding, 69, 70
• Cards for matron, 15
• Cards for men, 15
• Cards for mourning, 21, 22
• Cards for wedding anniversaries, 62
• [435]Cards for young women, 15
• Cards: style for calling, 14
• Cards: when calling, 19, 20
• Ceremony, wedding, 74, 75, 80
• Chaperon, 145
• Chaperon at college parties, 142
• Chaperon at theaters, 150
• Chaperon, duties of, 147, 148, 149, 150, 177
• Chaperon, excursions with, 150
• Chaperon, necessity of, 146, 147
• Chaperon, obligation to, 147
• Chaperon: when traveling, 278, 279
• Charity, allowance for, 347
• Charity: delicacy in gift-making, 353, 354
• Charity, organized methods of, 347, 348, 349
• Charity, private, 352, 353
• Charity: settlement work, 351, 352
• Charity: special fields of, 350, 351
• Children, 315
• Children at hotels, 254, 255
• Children, authority over, 319
• Children, behavior of, 318
• Children, indulgence to, 316, 317
• Children, obedience of, 322
• Children, place of, 318
• Children, traveling with, 320, 321
• Christening gifts, 64, 178
• Christening parties, 63, 64
• Christmas gifts, 172, 173
• Church acquaintances, 330
• Church companionship, 330, 331
• Church etiquette, 329
• Church etiquette: making friends, 331
• Church etiquette: pastor and parish, 335
• Church etiquette: pew hospitality, 333
• Church etiquette: visiting congregations, 335
• Church etiquette: welcoming strangers, 331, 332
• Clerks and customers, 408
• Clerks: courtesy toward, 407
• Club, woman’s, 337
• Coeducation, 136
• Coeducation: “Don’ts” for girls, 140, 141, 142
• Coeducation: forming friendships, 138, 139
• Coeducation: local etiquette of, 139
• Coeducation: social amenities of, 137, 138
• [436]College festivities, 142
• College slang, 141, 142
• Coming out, 120
• Coming-out parties, 55, 56
• Companionship of one young man, 130, 131
• Compliments, profuse, 417
• Condolence, 34, 208, 209
• Conduct toward guest, 199, 200, 201, 202
• Congratulations, 34
• Congratulations, wedding, 75, 83, 84
• Correspondence cards, 35
• Correspondence, value of, 29
• Courtesy, 355
• Courtesy: aged men, 360, 361, 362
• Courtesy due elders, 355
• Courtesy: value of deference, 357, 358, 360
• Courtesy: value of discrimination, 356, 357
• Courtesies: at dance, 128
• Courtesies: at theater, 129
• Courtesies, young men may pay girls, 128
• Criticism, rudeness of, 409
• Criticism, tactful, 403, 404
•  
• Dance program, 58
• Dancing parties, 57, 58
• Dancing parties: the hostess, 59
• Dean of women, 143, 144
• Débutante, 120
• Débutante, age of, 121
• Débutante, apparel of, 122, 123
• Débutante: coming out, 120
• Débutante, conduct of, 123, 124
• Débutante, significance of, 121, 122
• Declining invitations, 8, 9, 10, 11
• Dinner coat, 104, 105
• Dinner, hour for serving, 99
• Dinner parties, 88
• Dinner parties: arrival, 107
• Dinner parties: choice of guests, 89, 90, 106
• Dinner parties: departure, 109
• Dinner parties, invitations to, 6, 7, 8, 9, 90
• Dinner parties: general suggestions, 89
• Dinner parties: leaving dining-room, 108
• Dinner parties: leaving drawing-room, 106
• Dinner parties: preparations for, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96
• [437]Dinner parties: serving, 100, 101
• Dinner parties: the small affair, 89
• Disagreeableness, 400
• Dowry, bride’s, 394
• Dress: between seasons, 156
• Dress, color in, 161, 162, 163
• Dress, consideration of, 154
• Dress for balls and dinners, 156
• Dress for bride, 72, 82
• Dress for bridegroom, 72, 82
• Dress for bridesmaids, 72, 82
• Dress for business woman, 383, 384
• Dress for butler, 102
• Dress for christening parties, 64, 105
• Dress for church, 166
• Dress for house-man, 102
• Dress for housework, 372, 373
• Dress for maid, 102
• Dress for maid of honor, 72, 82
• Dress for men at dinner party, 103
• Dress for traveling, 270
• Dress for ushers, 83
• Dress for various occasions, 54-157
• Dress for widow, 212
• Dress for widow at second marriage, 187
• Dress for women at dinner party, 103, 156
• Dress: individuality in, 162
• Dress: importance of accessories, 159, 160
• Dress: its influence on manner, 253
• Dress: neatness in, 162, 163
• Dress: street gown, 155
• Dress: suitable for occasion, 158, 163, 164
• Duty of hospitality, 203
• Duty of maid, 99, 363
• Duty of mistress, 363
• Duty to elders, 355
•  
• Education of young girl, 111
• Embracing, 244
• Engaged couple, 60, 61
• Engagements, 61
• Engagements, announcement of, 61
• Engagement gifts, 170
• Entertaining at club-house, 65
• Entertaining at hotel ballroom, 65
• [438]Escorting women, 242, 243
• Evening receptions, 53
• Exchanging photographs at college, 141
• Expenses, wedding, 71
•  
• Finances: accounts, 391
• Finances: advantages of agreement, 390, 391
• Finances: advice to wife, 388, 389
• Finances: allowance for wife, 389, 390
• Finances: exceeding allowance, 390
• Finances: investing wife’s money, 394
• Finances: marrying for money, 392, 393
• Finances of young married couples, 387
• Finances: wife earns allowance, 387, 388
• Finger-bowls, use of, 222
• Finger nails, 164, 231
• First names, use of, 127, 140
• Flowers for funerals, 209
• Forks, use of, 217, 218
• Forms of address, 34, 35, 41
• Functions, 52
• Functions: afternoon receptions, 53, 54
• Functions: anniversaries, 62, 63
• Functions: announcing engagements, 61, 62
• Functions: christening parties, 63, 64
• Functions: coming-out parties, 55, 56
• Functions: dancing parties, 57, 58
• Functions: dinner parties, 88
• Functions: evening receptions, 53
• Functions: high tea, 54, 55
• Functions: hour for arriving, 56, 57
• Functions: how to conduct one’s self, 52, 58, 59, 65
• Functions: leaving, 53, 55, 56, 57
• Functions: luncheons, 52
• Functions: music, 55
• Functions: musicale, 57, 66
• Funerals, 210, 211, 212
•  
• Gifts, 167
• Gifts, acknowledging, 169, 170, 173, 174
• Gifts, appropriate, 168
• Gifts, birthday, 171
• Gifts, christening, 171, 172
• Gifts, Christmas, 172, 173
• Gifts, display of wedding, 84, 170
• [439]Gifts for the baby, 171
• Gifts for engagements, 170
• Gifts for weddings, 167, 168
• Gifts for young women, 171
• Gifts, lists of, 170
• Gifts: marking silver, 168
• Girls: advantages of travel for, 116, 117
• Girls: boarding-school or college for, 112
• Girls: desirability of accomplishments for, 117, 118
• Girls: entertaining men in their room, 312, 313
• Girls: free and easy behavior, 307
• Girls, 306
• Girls: impropriety of advances, 310, 311
• Girls: jesting, 313, 314
• Girls: losing respect, 307
• Girls: maidenly dignity, 312
• Girls: permitting liberties, 308, 309, 310
• Girls: plain talk to, 306
• Girls: sending away to school, 111
• Gloves, 165
• Golf, etiquette of, 282, 283, 284
• Grace, saying, 100
• Greetings, 414
• Guests at hotels, 249
• Guests, choice of, 10
•  
• Harmony, 421
• Hat, lifting of, 238, 239, 411
• High tea, 54, 55
• Home dinner, 45
• Home diversion: planning for, 44, 45, 46
• Home diversion: games for, 47
• Home, in the, 227
• Home, in the: breaches of manner, 237, 238
• Home, in the: courtesy, 227, 228, 229
• Home, in the: courteous attentions, 229, 233
• Home, in the: family table, 229, 230
• Home, in the: good taste in speech, 231, 232
• Home, in the: politeness essential, 232, 233
• Home, in the: recognizing others’ rights, 235, 236
• Home, in the: respect for books, 235
• Home, in the: respect necessary, 233, 234
• Home, in the: well-trained voice, 234
• Home party, 47
• Home wedding, 69
• [440]Home wedding: decorations, 73, 74
• Home wedding: invitations to, 69, 70
• Home wedding: matter of lights, 70
• Home wedding: order of procession, 74, 75
• Horseback riding, etiquette of, 289, 290
• Hospitality, 201, 202, 203
• Hospitality, bachelor, 175
• Hospitality, duty of, 203
• Hospitality, mutual obligations of, 204
• Hospitality, return of, 205
• Hospitality to strangers, 206, 207
• Hostess at dance, 59
• Hostess at table, 217, 223
• Hotel, children in, 254, 255
• Hotel etiquette, 249
• Hotel etiquette: conduct toward waiter, 252
• Hotel etiquette: criticizing, 252
• Hotel etiquette: dining-room conduct, 251, 252
• Hotel etiquette: instructions for guest, 249, 250
• Hotel etiquette: loud talking, 250
• Hotel etiquette: tipping, 253
• Hotel gossip, 255, 256
• Hotel intimacies, 257
• Hotel, summer, 257
• Hotel table, at the, 416
• House-man, dress of, 102
• House-man, duties of, 103
•  
• Ideal society, the, 67
• Indulgent parents, 316, 317
• Ingratitude, display of, 409
• Interest, display of, 402, 403
• Introductions, 38
• Introductions: an American presented at court, 40, 41
• Introductions: clerical, 40
• Introductions: man the one presented, 38
• Introductions: should be made by host, 41, 42
• Introducing a person in a large circle, 39
• Introducing a sister or daughter, 39
• Introducing one’s husband, 39
• Introducing professional men, 42
• Introducing two women of about equal age, 40
• Invitations, 1
• Invitations, acknowledging, 1, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9
• [441]Invitations, addressing, 6
• Invitations, appreciation of, 409
• Invitations, bachelor’s, 178
• Invitations, declining, 8, 9, 10
• Invitations for an “At Home,” 2
• Invitations for bridge, 11
• Invitations for card-parties, 5
• Invitations for coming-out parties, 56
• Invitations for church weddings, 5
• Invitations for dances, 5
• Invitations for dinners, 6, 7, 8, 9
• Invitations for evening receptions, 3
• Invitations for garden parties, 11
• Invitations for luncheons, 6, 10
• Invitations for musicales, 11
• Invitations for tea-dance, 11
• Invitations for weddings, 5, 69, 70, 78
• Invitations in honor of friend, 2
• Invitations: issued in name of, 13
• Invitations: manner of receiving verbal, 409, 410
• Invitations requiring no acceptance note, 1
• Invitations: sent after a death, 12
• Invitations: without first call having been made, 23, 24
• Inviting a visitor, 197-198
•  
• Jesting, 313, 314
•  
• Leave-taking, a man’s, 135
• Leaving cards, 20, 21
• Letter-heads, 30
• Letter-writing, 27
• Letters, answering, 29, 36, 37
• Letters: colored letter paper, 29
• Letters, dating, 31
• Letters: enclosing stamps, 36
• Letters, how to write, 27
• Letters: interchange of, 130
• Letters, length of, 33
• Letters: mourning stationery, 30
• Letters of condolence, 34, 208, 209
• Letters of congratulation, 34
• Letters of introduction, 35, 36, 416
• Letters: plain white paper, 29
• Letters: postal cards, 33
• Letters: signatures, 32
• [442]Letters: social forms, 29, 30
• Letters: wrong way of treating, 28
• Listening, value of, 402, 403
• Little things, 399
• Lunching at a club, 134
• Luncheons, 52
• Luncheons: the table, 52
•  
• Maid, dress of, 102
• Maid, duties of, 99
• Maid of honor, 70
• Maid of honor’s dress, 72, 82
• Maid, without a: division of tasks, 376, 377
• Maid, without a: dressing for work, 372, 373
• Maid, without a: importance of order, 373, 374, 375
• Maid, without a: simplicity, 375, 376
• Maid, without a: studying housework, 377, 378, 379
• Maidenly dignity, 312
• Manner, 418
• Manner: beginning conversation, 425
• Manner: candles of conversation, 422
• Manner: harmony, 421
• Manner: learn to talk well, 419
• Manner: leaving a room, 425
• Manner: serenity, 423, 424
• Manner: telling a story, 423
• Manner: the question form, 420
• Manner: violent opinions, 424
• Manner of lady toward social inferior, 416
• Marketing: ill manners while, 408
• Marriage, ceremonies of, 74, 75, 80, 81
• Marrying for money, 393
• Menu cards, 97, 261, 262, 263, 264, 265, 266, 267
• Mistress and maid, 363
• Mistress and maid: duty to maid, 356, 366
• Mistress and maid: duty to mistress, 366
• Mistress and maid: making confidante of maid, 366, 367
• Mistress and maid: making friend of maid, 365, 366
• Mistress and maid: relations between, 363, 368
• Mistress, conduct of, 363, 364
• Mourning: attending funerals, 209, 210
• Mourning: cards of, 21
• Mourning: church funerals, 212
• Mourning: closing casket, 210
• Mourning: conduct of bereaved, 215
• [443]Mourning: extending sympathy, 211, 212
• Mourning: flowers, 209
• Mourning for men, 214
• Mourning: funeral notices, 215
• Mourning: home funerals, 210, 211
• Mourning, house of, 208
• Mourning stationery, appropriate, 21, 22
• Mourning, time of, 214, 215
• Mourning veil, 212, 213
• Mourning: widow’s dress, 212, 213, 214
• Mrs. Newlyrich, ambitions of, 294, 295
• Mrs. Newlyrich, apparel of, 303
• Mrs. Newlyrich: conduct toward servants, 297
• Mrs. Newlyrich: engaging servants, 296
• Mrs. Newlyrich: forming new acquaintances, 299
• Mrs. Newlyrich, house of, 303, 304
• Mrs. Newlyrich, husband of, 292, 293, 294
• Mrs. Newlyrich, manners of, 298, 299
• Mrs. Newlyrich: mastering forms, 300, 301, 302
• Mrs. Newlyrich: purse-pride, 294
• Mrs. Newlyrich, speech of, 296
• Mrs. Newlyrich, social duties of, 291
• Music at a reception, 55
• Musicale, 57, 66
• Music, wedding, 74
•  
• Napkin, use of, 217, 222, 224
• Neighbors, 323
• Neighbors, addressing, 324
• Neighbors, courtesy to, 325
• Neighbors, familiarity with, 327, 328
• Neighbors, higher significance of, 326, 327
• Note-writing, as an accomplishment, 130
• Notices, funeral, 215
•  
• Obedience, children’s, 322
• Observation, value of, 427, 428
•  
• Paper, letter, 29, 35
• Parents, indulgent, 316, 317
• Parish, etiquette of, 329
• Party calls, 23
• Parties, anniversary, 63
• Parties, christening, 63, 64
• Parties, coming-out, 55, 56
• [444]Parties, dancing, 57, 58
• Parties, dinner, 88
• Parties, gentlemen should attend on ladies, 133, 134
• Parties, house, 187
• Pastor and parish, 334, 335, 336
• Perfect social group, 68
• Photographs, exchange of, 141
• Politeness in home, 232, 238
• Postal cards, use of, 32, 33
• Presentation at court, 40-41
• Privacy, respect for others’, 235, 236
• Public, addressing women in, 243, 245
• Public, assisting women in, 242
• Public, boarding a car in, 240, 241
• Public, bowing in, 240
• Public, embracing in, 244
• Public, escorting women in, 242, 243
• Public, etiquette in, 240, 241
• Public, kissing in, 244
• Public, lifting hat in, 238, 239
• Public, removing hat in, 239
• Public, resigning seat in, 241, 242
• Public: theater conduct, 245, 246
• Purse-pride, 294
•  
• Receiving a caller, 126
• Receptions, afternoon, 53, 54
• Receptions, evening, 53
• Receptions, invitations for, 3
• Recreation, 43
• Refreshments for callers, 19, 20
• Refreshments for home wedding, 64
• Refreshments for receptions, 64
• Restaurant, in the, 259
• Restaurant, in the: conduct, 259, 260, 261
• Restaurant, in the: menu card, 261, 262, 263, 264, 265, 266, 267
• Restaurant, in the: ordering, 259, 260
• Returning calls, 23
• Rowing, etiquette of, 288, 289
• Rudeness, 399
• Rules of social life, 426
•  
• Self-criticism, 412
• Self-help, 426
• Serving guests, 101, 102
• [445]Settlements, 392
• Settlement work, 351
• Social favors, asking, 416
• Spoon, use of, 220
• Sports, etiquette in, 280
• Sports, etiquette in: automobiling, 285, 286
• Sports, etiquette in: boating, 288, 289
• Sports, etiquette in: canoeing, 288, 289
• Sports, etiquette in: driving, 289
• Sports, etiquette in: golf, 282, 283, 284
• Sports, etiquette in: horseback riding, 289, 290
• Sports, etiquette in: politeness necessary, 280
• Sports, etiquette in: rowing, 288, 289
• Sports, etiquette in: swimming, 289
• Sports, etiquette in: tennis, 286, 287
• Sports, etiquette in: yachting, 287
• Sports, general rules of, 281, 282
• Street-car, getting off, 415
• Summer hotel, etiquette of, 257
• Suppers, Sunday night, 49, 50
• Suppers, after the theater, 176
• Swimming, etiquette of, 289
• Sympathy, cards of, 22
• Sympathy, expressions of, 211, 212
•  
• Table, at, 216
• Table, at: carving, 217
• Table, at: drinking coffee, 221, 222
• Table, at: eating, 216, 220
• Table, at: salad, 222
• Table, at: second service, 224
• Table, at: the hostess, 217, 223
• Table, at: the waitress, 222
• Table, at: use of finger-bowls, 222
• Table, at: use of fork, 217, 218
• Table, at: use of knife, 217, 218, 219
• Table, at: use of spoon, 220
• Table, at: using fingers, 220, 221
• Table: fruit centerpiece for, 97
• Table laws, 225, 226
• Table, setting the, 93, 94, 95, 98, 225
• Table, sitting at, 216
• Telephoning, politeness of, 404, 405, 406
• Tennis, etiquette of, 286, 287
• Tipping, 188, 253
• [446]Titles, 17, 42
• Titles: husband’s never taken by wife, 16
• Traveling: arrival in a strange city, 276, 277, 278
• Traveling: by boat, 278
• Traveling: chaperons, 278, 279
• Traveling: funds, 270, 271
• Traveling: in the dining-car, 275, 276
• Traveling, making acquaintance while, 271, 272
• Traveling: Pullman car preparations, 272, 273, 274
• Traveling, suitable clothing for, 270
•  
• Uniformity of custom, 429
• Uninvited visitor, 12, 183
• Use of first names, 127, 245
• Ushers, wedding, 74, 79
• Ushers, dress for, 83
•  
• Value of allowances, 396
• Visited, the, 195
• Visited, the: conduct toward guest, 199, 200, 201, 202
• Visited, the: decline of hospitality, 195, 196, 197
• Visited, the: inviting a visitor, 197, 198
• Visited, the: preparing for visitor, 198, 199
• Visited, the: welcoming visitor, 199
• Visitor, the, 182
• Visitor, the: accepting invitations, 183, 184
• Visitor, the: assisting hostess, 186
• Visitor, the: examples of misbehavior, 190, 191, 192
• Visitor, the: expenses of, 200, 201
• Visitor, the: house-parties, 187
• Visitor, the: keeping engagements, 184
• Visitor, the: meal time, 184, 185
• Visitor, the: promptness essential, 185
• Visitor, the: proper mode of conduct, 193, 194
• Visitor, the: thanking hostess, 188, 189
• Visitor, the: tipping servants, 188
• Visitor, the: what to avoid, 190
• Visitor, uninvited, 183
• Visitor, wardrobe of, 182, 187
• Voice, speaking quality of, 234
•  
• Waitress, 222
• Weddings, 69, 70, 78
• Wedding anniversaries, 62, 63
• Wedding announcements, 86, 87
• [447]Wedding apparel, appropriate, 72, 82, 83
• Wedding at home, 69, 70
• Wedding attendants, 70, 79
• Wedding-breakfasts, 71, 72, 75, 76, 84, 85
• Wedding calls, 85
• Wedding-cards, 70
• Wedding ceremony, 74, 75, 80, 81
• Wedding, church, 78
• Wedding decorations, 73, 78, 79
• Wedding, evening, 83
• Wedding expenses, how divided, 71
• Wedding invitations, form of, 69, 70, 78
• Wedding jokes, impropriety of, 77
• Wedding music, 74
• Wedding procession, order of, 74, 75, 80
• Wedding ushers, 74, 79
• Weddings: “At Home” days, 89
• Weddings: expressing congratulations, 75, 83, 84
• Weddings: days for, 70
• Weddings: maid of honor, 70
• Week-end party, 187
• Wines, serving of, 98
• Women’s clubs, broadening influence of, 337, 338, 339
• Women’s clubs, candidates for membership in, 343, 344
• Women’s clubs, discussion in, 342, 343
• Women’s clubs, formation of, 339, 340
• Women’s clubs, making the program of, 340, 341, 342
• Women’s clubs: reception of new members, 344
• Women’s clubs, social functions of, 345, 346
• Women’s colleges, 114, 115
• Women in business, 380
• Women in business: after working hours, 385, 386
• Women in business, broadened life of, 384, 385
• Women in business: conduct during working hours, 382
• Women in business, proper dress for, 383, 384
• Women in business, social position of, 381
•  
• Yachting, etiquette of, 287
• Yachting: the guest, 288
• Yachting: the host, 287
• Young women, and young men, 125
• Young women: calling on, 126
• Young women, introductions to, 138
• Young women: invitations from men, 125
• Young women, proposing for, 131, 132