II. INTRODUCTIONS
III. GREETINGS
IV. WORDS, PHRASES AND PRONUNCIATION
IX. CARDS AND VISITS
XI. INVITATIONS, ACCEPTANCES AND REGRETS
XII. LUNCHEONS, BREAKFASTS AND SUPPERS
XVII. THE DÉBUTANTE
XIX. Conventions were established from the first to regulate the rights of the
individual and the tribe. Nevertheless, to some the very word etiquette is an irritant. Trifles are unimportant, it is true, but then
life is made up of trifles. Still, no
one can get along without money; and few of us get along very well with
what we have. Besides grossness, there is also the meaner selfishness. And, in these days, with the added responsibility of
the vote. They are the
persons and the places of her own world; and whether we can or can not
penetrate the incognito of the Worldlys, the Gildings, the Kindharts, the
Oldnames, and the others, is of no importance. Fictionally, they are real
enough for us to be interested and instructed in their way of living. Best Society
abroad is always the oldest aristocracy; composed not so much of persons
of title, which may be new, as of those families and communities which
have for the longest period of time known highest cultivation. Cultivation is always the basic attribute of Best Society,
much as we hear in this country of an "Aristocracy of wealth." But this is
because Puritan America, as well as the general public, mistakes the
jester for the queen. or,
"Mr. The younger person is always presented to the older or more distinguished,
but a gentleman is always presented to a lady, even though he is an old
gentleman of great distinction and the lady a mere slip of a girl. To a Cardinal,
is,
"Your Eminence, may I present Mrs. Jones." But a Foreign Ambassador is presented, "Mr. Jones." The Honorable is merely Mr.
Lordson, or Mr. Holdoffice. A senator is always introduced as Senator, whether he is
still in office or not. Use the same inflection exactly and
say, "Mrs. Worldly?"--"Mrs. Mrs. Worldly?--Mrs. The unmarried lady is presented to the married one, unless the latter is
very much the younger. "Mrs.
Smith; Mrs. Norman." "Mr. Brown; Mr. Green." A man is also often introduced, "Mrs. Mr. To a young man, however, she should say, "Mr. Struthers, have you met my
daughter?" If the daughter is married, she should have added, "My
daughter, Mrs. =OTHER FORMS OF INTRODUCTION=
Other permissible forms of introduction are:
"Mrs. Jones, do you know Mrs. or,
"Mrs. Jones, you know Mrs. Robinson, don't you?" Best Society always says "don't you?") or,
"Mrs. Robinson, have you met Mrs. or,
"Mrs. Jones, do you know my mother?" or,
"This is my daughter Ellen, Mrs. Jones." These are all good form, whether gentlemen are introduced to ladies,
ladies to ladies, or gentlemen to gentlemen. Smith." Upon leading Mr. Smith up to Mrs. Jones, you say "Mrs.
Jones may I present Mr. Smith" or "Mrs. Jones; Mr. Smith." Smith." Mrs. To say
each name once is quite enough. Most people of good taste very much dislike being asked their names. The next time you see her you can say "How do you do, Mrs. ----" (calling
her by name). It literally accepts no other. When Mr. Bachelor says,
"Mrs. Worldly, may I present Mr. Mrs. To sweetly echo "Mr. is not good form. All affectations are bad form. Persons of position do not say: "Charmed," or "Pleased to meet you," etc.,
but often the first remark is the beginning of a conversation. Worldly. Worldly," especially if his
answer would otherwise be a curt yes or no. Mrs. King is sitting quite close to you, Mrs.
Lawrence also near. Mrs. Jones enters. If she apparently knows no one, you say,
"Mrs. King, do you know Mrs. Mrs. King being close at hand
(usually but not necessarily) rises, shakes hands with Mrs. Jones and sits
down again. Mrs. Lawrence,
if she is young, rises and shakes hands with Mrs. Jones, and the other two
bow but do not rise. At a very big luncheon you would introduce Mrs. Jones to Mrs. King and
possibly to Mrs. Lawrence, so that Mrs. Jones might have some one to talk
to. But if other guests come in at this moment, Mrs. Jones finds a place
for herself and after a pause, falls naturally into conversation with
those she is next to, without giving her name or asking theirs. And, of course,
and happily, there are other men and women like him in this. Nearly all people of the Atlantic Coast dislike general introductions, and
present people to each other as little as possible. Or showing her his place card, "I have to introduce
myself, this is my name." Or the lady says first, "I am Mrs. Hunter
Jones." And the man answers, "How do you do, Mrs. Jones, my name is
Titherington Smith." "Mrs. Worldly, this is Mr. Robinson, whom you said I might bring." Robinson." The third, however, must not join them unless
invited to do so. At a very large dinner, people (excepting the gentlemen and ladies who are
to sit next to each other at table) are not collectively introduced. When you are introduced to some one for the second time and the first
occasion was without interest and long ago, there is no reason why you
should speak of the former meeting. As said above, introductions in very large cities are unimportant. Mrs. Jones says:
"Why, my dear child, I am so glad you spoke to me. Mrs. Worldly, looking rather freezingly, politely says "Yes" and waits. Mrs. "Oh, yes, indeed, I am
devoted to Millicent! "I'm Alice." "Oh, of course, Millicent has often talked of you, and of your lovely
voice. It
would be in very bad taste for Alice to introduce herself to Mrs. when they meet, even though they never become acquaintances. The polite thing--unless his manner
does not ring true, is to say "Why, of course, I do." If
the person should prove actually to be unknown, it is very easy to repel
any further advances. The lady can say "Yes"; or, "I'd rather
not." Most people prefer to
leave their cards without asking to be received. If your letter is to a man, you mail it to his house, unless the letter is
a business one. If the recipient of
your letter leaves her card on you, you in return leave yours on her. If Mrs. Mrs. or merely bow. If you have, through friends in common, long heard of a
certain lady, or gentleman, and you know that she, or he, also has heard
much of you, you may say when you are introduced to her: "I am very glad
to meet you," or "I am delighted to meet you at last!" Or, if in his own office: "Very glad to see you!" or "Good evening." The weather, too, fills
in with equal faithfulness. or "Horrid weather,
isn't it?" In bidding good-by to a new acquaintance with whom you have been talking,
you shake hands and say, "Good-by. =IN CHURCH=
People do not greet each other in church, except at a wedding. But you do not greet anyone until you are out on the
church steps, when you naturally speak to your friends. All people who know each other, unless merely passing by, shake hands when
they meet. But at the opera, or at a ball, or if he is
usher at a wedding, he keeps his glove on. and pass on. What is more, the elevators in such business structures are
usually so crowded that the only room for a man's hat is on his head. Then he sits down again. When she rises to leave, he must get up instantly and stand until
she has left the office. If he didn't, some other more loyal citizen would take it off for him. As she makes
room for him to pass, he lifts his hat and says: "Thank you!" Too devoted a manner is
always conspicuous, and so is loud talking. All people in the streets, or anywhere in public, should be careful not to
talk too loud. They should especially avoid pronouncing people's names, or
making personal remarks that may attract passing attention or give a clue
to themselves. Such, for instance, might be a square, smoothly
wrapped box of cigars, candy, or books. The going is
pretty bad." She quite as usually
answers: "Don't bother, I have it!" It
would be awkward for him to protest, and bad taste to press the point. But
usually in small matters such as a subway fare, he pays for two. His answer should be: "Indeed, I'd love to any time
you telephone her"; or, "I know she'd love to come if you'd ask her." Or, he merely evades the issue, and does not bring her. He wears white gloves nowhere else except at a ball,
or when usher at a wedding. If there are two ladies besides
the hostess, the latter places her most distinguished or older guest in
the corner nearest the stage. The older guest takes her seat first, then the hostess takes her
place, whereupon the third lady goes forward in the center to the front of
the box, and stands until one of the gentlemen places a chair for her
between the other two. Worldly's or Mrs. Jones' or Mrs. Town's boxes. At the opera the world of fashion is to be seen in the parterre boxes (not
the first tier), and in boxes at some of the horse shows and at many
public charity balls and entertainments, but those in boxes at the theater
are usually "strangers" or "outsiders." When Mr. and Mrs. Oldname "accept with pleasure" a second message is
given: "Dinner will be at 7.30." Or she can accept. Going down the aisle is not a question of
precedence, but a question of seating. When their places are
shown him, he stands aside for his wife to take her place first and then
he takes his. Though you can say "I beg your
pardon." But
"Beg pardon," which is an abbreviation, is one of the phrases never said
in best society. If there are five
acts, they should at most go out for two entr'actes and even then be
careful to come back before the curtain goes up. If they still persist, you can ask
an usher to call the manager. Full dress is not correct,
but those going afterwards to a ball can perfectly well go to the theater
first if they do not make themselves conspicuous. If fifty or more are to be asked, invitations are sometimes
engraved. After the theater, big motor busses drive them all either to the house of
the hostess or to a hotel for supper and to dance. At outdoor games, or at the circus, it is not necessary to
stop talking. In fact, a good deal of noise is not out of the way in
"rooting" at a match, and a circus band does not demand silence in order
to appreciate its cheerful blare. If they
won't stay "down," then all those behind have to stay "up." And the rule is merely, to stop and think. The older woman is even worse, unless something occurs (often when it is
too late) to make her wake up and realize that she not only bores her
hearers but prejudices everyone against her children by the unrestraint of
her own praise. 's child, which having already told A. you can then tell B.,
and later C. in A. 's presence. If you know
any one who is gay, beguiling and amusing, you will, if you are wise, do
everything you can to make him prefer your house and your table to any
other; for where he is, the successful party is also. "No, hate the theater." "Neither. mockingly. "Obviously it has." Full stop. "Oh, it's just one of those children's names that stick sometimes for
life." "Perfect rot. Ought to be called by his name," etc. Then there is the vulgarian of fulsome compliment: "Why are you so
beautiful? If you have any ambition to be sought after in society you must not talk
about the unattractiveness of old age to the elderly, about the joys of
dancing and skating to the lame, or about the advantages of ancestry to
the self-made. To
put it cynically, life is too short to waste it in drawing blanks. Mrs. Never "Mr. Older." Mr. Worldly in the same way speaks
of Mrs. Worldly as "my wife" to a gentleman, or "Edith" in speaking to a
lady. "You are all wrong," says the man of millions, "It is this
way----". The cleverest
woman is she who, in talking to a man, makes _him_ seem clever. This was
Mme. This is really the first,
last and only rule. The person who looks glad to see you, who is seemingly eager
for your news, or enthralled with your conversation; who looks at you with
a kindling of the face, and gives you spontaneous and undivided attention,
is the one to whom the palm for the art of conversation would undoubtedly
be awarded. I beg your pardon. Or,
Excuse me! Or, sorry! Allow, meaning agree. Folks, meaning family. Cute, meaning pretty or winsome. Well, I declare! Box party, meaning sitting in a box at the theater. Visiting with, meaning talking to. "Refined" is on the verge. And "bone" and "coat"--"bawn," "cawt," to rhyme with awe! Then South, there is too much salt--rather too much sugar. N'Yawk is supposed to say "yeh" and "Omurica" and "Toosdeh," and
"puddin'." of it does, but as a whole it has no
accent, since it is a composite of all in one. Or do they not know, whether their inflection is right or
wrong? Do not talk at the top of your head, nor at the top of your
lungs. As a nation we do not talk so much too fast, as too loud. Pronunciation is the proper sounding of consonants, vowels
and the accentuation of each syllable. And the bank honors
your deposit, and no more. The more you put in, the more
will be paid out to you. By and by, if she gives a general tea or ball, she can
invite whom, among them, she wants to. And from being seen at one house, they are invited to another. If
they go nowhere, they do not lose position but they are apt to be
overlooked until people remember them by seeing them. That is not "toadying," it is being merely
polite. As said in another chapter, people of position are people of position the
world over, and all the cities strung around the whole globe are like so
many chapter-houses of a brotherhood, to which letters of introduction
open the doors. However, this is off the subject, which is to advise those who have no
position, or letters, how to acquire the former. In New York people could live in the same house for generations, and
do, and not have their next door neighbor know them even by sight. But no
other city, except London, is as unaware as that. When people move to a
new city, or town, it is usually because of business. The husband at least
makes business acquaintances, but the wife is left alone. Never grin weakly, and--cling! But not
again, until the lady has returned the visit, or asked her to her house. The better, and the only way if she has not the key of birth, is
through study to make herself eligible. The Lovejoys, for instance, who are clamored for
everywhere, have every attribute--except money. Both are amusing, both are interesting, both do everything well. Or usually, whom? In New York, for instance, the visiting card has entirely taken
the place of the written note of invitation to informal parties of every
description. The engraving most in use to-day is shaded block. All people who live
in cities should have the address in the lower right corner, engraved in
smaller letters than the name. Example:
The plate:
Mr. and Mrs. Gilding
Miss Gilding
00 FIFTH AVENUE
GOLDEN HALL
may be printed. Smith, or Mr. J.H. Titherington Smith, as suits his
fancy. She is Mrs. John Hunter Titherington Smith, or, to compromise, Mrs.
J.H. Titherington Smith, but she is _never_ Mrs. Sarah Smith; at least not
anywhere in good society. It, however, illustrates the point. Some people have the "Jr." written
out, "junior." and Mrs., etc. Usually she prefers, if her name was Alice Green, to call herself Mrs.
Green Smith; not Mrs. Alice Smith, and on no account Mrs. Alice
Green--unless she wishes to give the impression that she was the guilty
one in the divorce. =THE P.P.C. on it and require an answer), one should
mail cards to the hostess so as to arrive on the morning of the
entertainment. But
within the walls of society itself, the visit of formality is decreasing. If
one does not care to continue the acquaintance, one need not pay a second
visit. Mrs. They go. Some
evening at all events, the Gildings dine with the Normans. Someday, if
Mrs. Gilding happens to be leaving cards, she may leave them at the
Normans--or she may not. Some people leave cards almost like the "hares"
in a paper chase; others seldom if ever do. Some people say "Not receiving," which means actually the same
thing, but the "not at home" is infinitely more polite; since in the
former you know she is in the house but won't see you, whereas in the
latter case you have the pleasant uncertainty that it is quite possible
she is out. The visitor can either wait or say she is pressed for
time. At all events, each neighborhood on the day of its own,
suggested a local fête. But the men went to the country and the women to the
opera, and she gave it up. If a relative announces his engagement, you must at once go to see his
fiancée. Should she be out, you do not ask to see her mother. "To inquire" is often written on a card left at the house of a sick
person, but not if you are received. Won't you come
in to tea, or to lunch--just you." Mrs. Kindhart answers, "Yes, I'd love
to. She says, "Yes, but not until a quarter of six." He says, "Fine, I'll come then." He says, "All right, I'll
come to-morrow." The younger people rarely ever go to see each other without first
telephoning. The older residents always call on the
newer. Or two ladies of equal age or position may either one say, "I wish you
would come to see me." More usually the first one offers "I should like to come to see you, if I
may." And the other, of course, answers "I shall be delighted if you
will." But if other visitors are announced, the first one--on a very
formal occasion--may cut her visit shorter. A hostess always rises when a visitor enters, unless the visitor is a
very young woman or man and she herself elderly, or unless she is seated
behind the tea-table so that rising is difficult. As said before, few men pay visits without first telephoning. He, of course, shakes
hands with any who are friends, and with all men to whom he is introduced,
but with a lady only if she offers him her hand. The place to pause is on the
threshold--not half-way in the room. No lady should cross her knees so
that her skirts go up to or above them; neither should her foot be thrust
out so that her toes are at knee level. This is, however, not so much a rule of
etiquette as a question of beauty and fitness. If she insists on your coming in, you should stay only a moment. Do not,
however, fidget and talk about leaving. Sit down as though your leaving
immediately were not on your mind, but after two or three minutes say
"Good-by" and go. You should wait for an opportunity
when the latter is not included in your conversation. But if the gentleman who
has given a dinner has his mother (or sister) staying with him and if the
mother (or sister) chaperoned the party, cards should of course be left
upon her. Having risen to go, _go_! In other days a hostess thought it necessary to change quickly into a best
dress if important company rang her door-bell. The engraving may be in script, block, shaded
block, or old English. (Honour is spelled in the old-fashioned way, with a "u" instead
of "honor.") And we want all of you to come afterward to Aunt
Mary's, for a bite to eat and to wish us luck. Affectionately,
Helen. With much love from us both,
Affectionately,
Helen. Like the wedding
invitation it has an embossed crest without color, or nothing. The request
for a reply is often omitted, since everyone is supposed to know that an
answer is necessary. But if the dance, or dinner, or whatever the
entertainment is to be, is given at one address and the hostess lives at
another, both addresses are always given:
Mr. and Mrs. Sidney Oldname
request the pleasure of
company at a dance
on Monday evening the sixth of January
at ten o'clock
The Fitz-Cherry
Kindly send response to
Brookmeadows
L.I. Example:
Dear Mrs. Very sincerely yours,
Caroline Robinson Town. Sincerely yours,
Edith Worldly. Or
if she knows Mrs. Worldly's dance." The spacing of the model shown below, the proportion of the words, and the
size of the card, are especially good. Also, except on
very unusual occasions, a man's name does not appear. This does
not. If you have
a dozen or more invitations a day, if you have a hundred, hire a staff of
secretaries if need be, but answer "by hand." Dancing at 10. o'ck. Bridge at 4. o'ck. =MRS. Example:
Dear Mrs. Smith:
Will you and Mr. Smith dine with us on Thursday, the seventh of
January, at eight o'clock? Hoping so much for the pleasure of seeing you,
Very sincerely,
Caroline Robinson Town. Wednesday. With many thanks for your kindness in thinking of us,
Very sincerely,
Ethel Norman. I am sure the country
will do you and the baby good, or at least it will do me good to
have you here. With much love, affectionately,
Ethel Norman. Very sincerely,
Alice Jones. Affectionately,
Muriel. Hoping so much that camping appeals to you and that we shall see
you on the evening of the sixth,
Very sincerely yours,
Martha Kindhart. Mrs. Jones' telephone number is Plaza, one two
ring two." Or
"Will you please tell Mrs. Jones that Mr. and Mrs. Huntington
Smith are very sorry that they will be unable to dine with her
next Tuesday, and thank her for asking them." We are dining with Mabel." Or
"We have people coming here." This is Alice. That's Friday. etc." And for those that dwell within it there are meals to be
prepared and served; linen to be laundered and mended; personal garments
to be brushed and pressed; and perhaps children to be cared for. The personality of a house is indefinable, but there never lived a lady of
great cultivation and charm whose home, whether a palace, a farm-cottage
or a tiny apartment, did not reflect the charm of its owner. Every visitor
feels impelled to linger, and is loath to go. She wears what is
becoming to her own type, and she puts in her house only such articles as
are becoming to it. But to an amazing number of
persons, proportion seems to mean nothing at all. "If you call a cotton-flannel effigy, a dog! Be very careful though. Second, has it _really_ beauty of form and line and color? Or is it merely striking, or amusing? Fourth, if it were eliminated would it be missed? The only safe measure of what is good, is to choose
that which has best endured. ), than appointments
meaning _service_. Not one of the family but
mourned for what she truly was, their humble but nearest friend. Beginning with the greatest and most
complicated establishments possible, the employee of highest rank is:
=THE SECRETARY WHO IS ALSO COMPANION=
The position of companion, which is always one of social equality with her
employer, exists only when the lady of the house is an invalid, or very
elderly, or a widow, or a young girl. Miss Brisk, who is Mrs. Gilding's secretary, has little time for any one
else. Conspicuous clothes are out of
keeping as they would be out of keeping in an office; which, however, is
no reason why she should not be well dressed. The cook, butler,
nurses and lady's maid do not come under her supervision. The cook is in charge of the kitchen, under-cook and kitchen-maids. In a great establishment, the butler works very much
with his head, and with his hands not at all. (The husband by the way is "head of the
house," but the wife is "head of the table.") Worldly into his coat, and hands him his hat and
stick, which have previously been handed to the butler by one of the
footmen. Where he is
alone, he does all the work--naturally. In fashionable houses, the butler does not put on his dress suit until
six o'clock. A butler never wears gloves, nor a flower in his buttonhole. But if formal
company is expected, the butler himself is in the front hall with one or
two footmen at the door. Maroon and buff, for instance, are the colors of the
Gildings; all their motor cars are maroon with buff lines and
cream-colored or maroon linings. The house footmen, for everyday, wear ordinary footmen's
liveries, maroon trousers and long-tailed coats with brass buttons and
maroon-and-buff striped waistcoats. The coat is of maroon broadcloth with frogs and
epaulets of black braiding. Mrs. Knee breeches are more usual, but even those
are seen in none but very lavish houses. She sees the
lady of the house every morning, and submits menus for the day. (None, of course, if the family are to be out for
all meals.) She also takes care
of the housekeeper's rooms, and carries all her meals up to her. If there
is no housekeeper, the hall girl is under the direction of the cook. The useful
man brings up the wood for the fireplaces, but the parlor-maid lays the
fire. The second housemaid does the nurseries, extra spare rooms, and the
servants' floor. Her first duty is to keep her lady's clothes in
order and to help her dress, and undress. And the maid at home can then be "maid for two." In traveling, a lady's maid always wears a small black silk apron and some
maids wear black taffeta ones always. In the afternoon, she puts on a
black waist with white collar and cuffs. Or "Some bread, please." In refusing a dish at the table, one must say "No, thank you," or "No,
thanks," or else one shakes one's head. As said in another chapter,
a well-bred person always lives within the walls of his personal reserve,
a vulgarian has no walls--or at least none that do not collapse at the
slightest touch. If you don't know whether she has had time or
not, you could give her the benefit of the doubt and say (trustfully, not
haughtily) "You have not had time to clean the silver, have you?" If she
has reason to think they are not all this, a lady does not keep them in
her house. In answering a bell, she asks "Did you ring, sir?" At an afternoon tea in houses where dressing-rooms have not been installed
by the architect, the end of the hall, if it is wide, is sometimes
supplied with a coat rack (which may be rented from a caterer) for the
gentlemen. It will only be a moment." He then leads the way into the room where the
hostess is receiving, and says distinctly: "Mr. and Mrs. Jones." At a very large party such as a ball, or a very big tea or musical, he
does not leave his place, but stands just outside the drawing-room, and
the hostess stands just within, and as the guests pass through the door,
he announces each one's name. At a very large function such as a ball or tea, a hostess who
has no butler at home, always employs one for the occasion. He never says,
"Dinner is ready." At an evening party, the door is opened by the waitress, assisted by the
parlor-maid who directs the way to the dressing-rooms. A guest who may not be known by sight does not wait for her
hostess to recognize her but says at once, "How do you do, Mrs. Town." She does not add her husband's
name as it is taken for granted that the gentleman following her is Mr.
Town. A "tea," even though it be formal, is nevertheless friendly and inviting. The younger people, as soon as they have shaken hands with the hostess,
dance. The older ones sit about, or talk to friends or take tea. But if the tea is of any size, from twenty upwards, the table is set in
the dining-room and two intimate friends of the hostess "pour" tea at one
end, and chocolate at the other. The one pouring should answer very, responsively, "Certainly! But as soon as she has
finished, she should give her place up to a newer arrival. In New York smart people always do at
dinners or luncheons, but never at a general entertainment. Mrs. Mrs. Kindhart
on the other hand, talks to everyone, everywhere and always. Worldly's every bit, but perhaps
she can be more relaxed; not being the conspicuous hostess that Mrs. Worldly is, she is not so besieged by position-makers and
invitation-seekers. Perhaps Mrs. A cloth must always be first placed on the table, before putting down the
tray. The tea cloth may be a yard, a yard and a half, or two yards square. It may barely cover the table, or it may hang half a yard over each edge. In any case, on it should be: a kettle which ought to be
already boiling, with a spirit lamp under it, an empty tea-pot, a caddy of
tea, a tea strainer and slop bowl, cream pitcher and sugar bowl, and, on a
glass dish, lemon in slices. A second slice, unspread,
makes the other side of the sandwich. Afternoon tea at a very large house party or where especially invited
people are expected for tea, should include two plates of hot food such as
toast or hot biscuits split open and buttered, toasted and buttered
English muffins, or crumpets, corn muffins or hot gingerbread. As said above, if jam is to be eaten on toast or bread, there must be
little butter knives to spread it with. If there are no little tables, she
either draws her chair up to the tea-table, or manages as best she can to
balance plate, cup and saucer on her lap--a very difficult feat! There are
often berries with cream, especially in strawberry season, on an estate
that prides itself on those of its own growing, as well as the inevitable
array of fancy sandwiches and cakes. Some people have the gift of hospitality;
others whose intentions are just as kind and whose houses are perfection
in luxury of appointments, seem to petrify every approach. Introspective people who are fearful of others, fearful of themselves, are
never successfully popular hosts or hostesses. She does not have especial cards engraved but
uses the dinner blank described in the chapter on Invitations. The Smartlings won't do
either, for the same reason, nor the Gaylies. The list being settled, Mrs. Worldly's own work is done. She never sees or thinks about her table, which is in the butler's
province. The others she fits in
between, trying to seat side by side those congenial to each other. When the cards are arranged, the secretary attends to putting the name of
the lady who sits on each gentleman's right in the envelope addressed to
him. Fifteen minutes before the dinner hour, Mrs. Worldly is already standing
in her drawing-room. You
have not very experienced servants, but they would all be good ones with a
little more training. That it
may be the same in name only, does not occur to you. You order flowers for
the table, and candy for your four compotiers. The table, set with your
wedding silver and glass, looks quite nice. So
you straighten a candlestick that was out of line, and put the place cards
on. You don't light the fire until the last
moment, because you want it to be burning brightly when your guests
arrive. They are
very polite, but the smoke, growing each moment denser, is not to be
overlooked. Everyone's eyes are red from the
smoke, and conversation is getting weaker and weaker. Mrs. Worldly also sits, both
hold their eyes shut and say nothing. And again you
wait, but the oyster course is all right. And then comes the soup. You taste it, fearing the worst, and the worst is
realized. Then there is a
wait. You
realize that not only is the food itself awful, but that the quantity is
too great for one dish. You don't know what to do next; you know there is
no use in apologizing, there is no way of dropping through the floor, or
waking yourself up. You have to bite your lips to keep from crying. When they have all gone, you drag yourself miserably up-stairs, feeling
that you never want to look in that drawing-room or dining-room again. Mrs. This is of first
importance. Food. (Hot food to be
_hot_, and cold, _cold_.) Service. A hostess of charm. Some people have this
"sense"--others haven't. Brilliant men
and women who love to talk want hearers, not rivals. Very silent people
should be sandwiched between good talkers, or at least voluble talkers. Most people think two brilliant people should be put together. Often they
should, but with discretion. You put down what _they_ will (you hope) like, not what
you like. Under the
general heading "Dinners," she has older married, younger married, girls,
men. Puritan, has no "new" list. Perhaps he
calls up a dozen before he finds one disengaged. Mr. Married people are seldom on this list, because the butler need
not undertake to fill any but an odd place--that of a gentleman
particularly. Having declined the Nobody
invitation in the first place, you are then free to accept Mrs. Worldly's,
or to stay at home. And the other answers, "I'd love
to--and you let me know too, if you want to do anything else." and the other says, "Go, by all means! We can dine Tuesday
next week if you like, or come Sunday for supper." This privilege of
intimacy can, however, be abused. Hors d'oeuvre
2. Soup
3. Fish
4. Entrée
5. Roast
6. Salad
7. Dessert
8. Some people love highly
flavored Spanish or Indian dishes, but they are not appropriate for a
formal dinner. One hating garlic and onions
would be very wretched if onions were put in each and every course, and
liberally. The
knives are "ivory" handled. However, to go back to table setting: A cloth laid straight; then a
centerpiece put in the middle; then four candlesticks at the four corners,
about half-way between the center and the edge of the table, or two
candelabra at either end halfway between the places of the host and
hostess and the centerpiece. If she can't, she would better be something
else. At all events, pickles and tomato sauces and other cold
meat condiments are never presented at table in a bottle, but are put in
glass dishes with small serving spoons. Pickles, jellies, jams, olives, are
all put into small glass dishes. Napkin rings are unknown in fashionable houses outside of the nursery. The moment fish is
passed them, they expect the cucumbers or sauce, or whatever should go
with the fish, to follow immediately. No service is good in this day unless swift--and, of
course, soundless. is what she used to say, and what her household had to live
up to. In New York, when dining and
going to the opera, one is usually asked for seven-fifteen, and for
seven-thirty before going to a play. If there are footmen enough, the chair of each lady is held for her;
otherwise the gentleman who takes her in to dinner helps her to be seated. The place plate merely becomes a hot fish plate, but it is
there just the same. Glasses are
poured and additional knives placed at the right, but forks are put on as
needed from the left. In other days
people evidently did not mind looking at their own dirty plates
indefinitely, nor could they have minded sitting for hours at table. One to the lady on the
right of the host, and the other to the lady at the opposite end of the
table. Where there are three services they start with the lady of honor
and the sixth from her on either side and continue to the right. "Grape
fruit cup, madam?" Or in a house which has the remains of a cellar,
"Champagne?" or "Do you care for whiskey and soda, sir?" Corn on the cob
is taken with the fingers, but is _never_ served at a dinner party. In the present world of fashion the "dessert" is ice-cream, served in one
mold; not ices (a lot of little frozen images). Pie, however, is not a "company" dessert. Ice cream on the other hand is
the inevitable conclusion of a formal dinner. After the inevitable ice
cream has been eaten, a fruit plate with a finger bowl on it, is put on in
exchange. A doily goes under the finger bowl, and a fruit knife and fork
on either side. Some people think this service confusing because an occasional guest, in
lifting off the finger bowl, lifts the glass plate too, and eats his
dessert on his china plate. Most often there is only one which is placed
in front of the host; but sometimes there is one between every two guests. This card just
fits in the envelope, which is an inch or slightly less high and about two
inches long. If it does not rain, he merely opens the doors of
vehicles. If
the butler knows the guests, he merely announces the wife's name first and
then the husband's. If he does not know them by sight he asks whichever is
nearest to him, "What name, please?" And whichever one is asked, answers:
"Mr. and Mrs. Lake." Lake." Married people are
usually announced separately as above, but occasionally people have their
guests announced "Mr. and Mrs. ----." Harding." Coolidge." Edwards." Thompson." Other announcements are "The Chief Justice and Mrs. Taft," "The Secretary
of State and Mrs. Hughes." But a First Secretary and his wife are
announced, if they have a title of their own, "Count and Countess
European," or "Mr. and Mrs. American." Or if it
is raining, she very likely tells you that you were very unselfish to
come out in the storm. To give hectic directions,
merely accentuates the awkwardness. She says, "I am so
sorry, but I will have it fixed at once!" Entirely off. It is hideous to leave them on the arm, merely turning back
the hands. You _must_, that is all there is about it! If this is true, you should be doubly careful to take
at least a little on your plate and make a pretence of eating some of it,
since to refuse course after course can not fail to distress your hostess. If there are six or more, the chances are
they are edible, and that one or two of a kind are embellishments only. You should not try to cut a section from anything that has
already been divided into portions in the kitchen. The
one who happens to be observing also stands up, and in a moment everyone
is standing. It is perfectly correct for a gentleman to talk to any other who happens
to be sitting near him, whether he knows him or not. In any case, the hostess must see that no one is left to sit
alone. If one of her guests is a stranger to the others, the hostess draws
a chair near one of the groups and offering it to her single guest sits
beside her. Usually, however, the ladies
on the ends, being accessible, are more apt to be joined by the first
gentleman entering than is the one in the center, whom it is impossible to
reach. At informal dinners, and even at many formal ones, bridge tables are set
up in an adjoining room, if not in the drawing-room. Or if
less, a center table of twelve and four smaller tables of eight. No
one resents being grouped according to "age," but many do resent a
segregation of ultra fashionables. After the performance the leave-taking is the
same as at all dinners or parties. or "I'm sorry, but I must. Usually, however, each one merely says, "Good night, thank you so much." When one guest leaves, they all leave--except
those at the bridge tables. "Thank you so much; good night," is the usual expression. And the hostess
answers, "It was so nice to see you again," or "I'm glad you could come." But most usually of all she says merely, "Good night!" When Mr. and
Mrs. Jones are ready to leave, he goes out on the front steps and calls,
"Mr. Jones' car!" The Jones' chauffeur answers, "Here," the butler says to
either Mr. or Mrs. Jones, "Your car is at the door!" and they go out. or "Good night, and thank
you _so_ much." And the hostess smiles and says, "So glad you could come!" If one of them is much older than the others, the younger ones wait
for her to go ahead of them, or one who is much younger goes last. The men
stroll in the rear. "Mary, will you sit next to Jim, and Lucy on his other side; Kate, over
there, Bobo, next to me," etc. For a wife to come downstairs and receive the guests for him, can not be
too strongly condemned as out of place. Lamb has mint sauce--or mint jelly. And celery salad, which goes with all game, need not be
especially hurried. The fewer the dishes to be passed, the fewer the hands needed
to pass them. Oysters, on the other hand, have to be followed by tabasco
and buttered brown bread. If she can make
certain dishes that are pretty as well as good to taste, so much the
better. You can make a specialty of asking people
to "supper." Suppers are necessarily informal, but there is no objection
in that. Or, "You have forgotten the fork
on that dish." Hoping so much to see you,
Sincerely (or affectionately),
Jane Toplofty. Eminent, for
instance--the phrase "to meet Mrs. At a very large luncheon for which
the engraved card might be used, "To meet Mrs. Oct. 2. Or, if the hostess prefers, a personal note is always courteous:
Dear Mrs. Golden Hall
Sept. 27. A written
answer is more polite, if the hostess is somewhat of a stranger to you. Where there is a waitress instead of a butler, guests
greet the hostess unannounced. The place mats
are round or square or rectangular to match, and are put at the places. Most people, however, like a sparsely ornamented table. It is a very small plate about five and a half to
six and a half inches in diameter, and is put at the left side of each
place just beyond the forks. Fruit, or soup in cups
2. Eggs
3. Salad
5. Dessert
or
1. Fruit
2. Soup
3. Salad
5. Dessert
or
1. Fruit
2. Soup
3. Eggs
4. 1 or No. 2 or No. 5. Or with fruit and soup,
omit eggs, especially if there is to be an aspic with salad. In fact, although
tea is never served hot at formal New York luncheons, iced tea is
customary in all country houses in summer; and chocolate, not poured by
the hostess, but brought in from the pantry and put down at the right of
each plate, is by no means unusual at informal lunch parties. Plain
cold tea may be passed in glasses, and lemon and sugar separately. Guests, however, do not take off their hats at a lunch party even
in the country. A hostess in a veil does not give her
guests the impression of "veiled beauty," but the contrary. When one
guest gets up to go, the others invariably follow. They say "Good-by" and
"Thank you so much." She then says: "I had to have the car
announced, because I have an appointment at the doctor's. The only rule about such
an informal gathering as this is, that no one should ever go and spend the
day and make herself at home unless she is in the house of a really very
intimate friend or relative, or unless she has been especially and
specifically invited to do that very thing. The food is all put on the dining table and every one helps himself. The most "informal"
dishes are suitable for this sort of a meal, as for a picnic. There are
two hot dishes and a salad, and a dessert which may be, but seldom is, ice
cream. Stand-up luncheons are very practical for hostesses who have medium sized
houses, or when an elastic number of guests are expected at the time of a
ball game, or other event that congregates a great many people. At twelve-thirty it is breakfast, at one
o'clock it is lunch. Of the two, music is of more importance than rooms. At all balls, there must be two orchestras, so that each time one finishes
playing the other begins. She does not usually invite a lady with whom she may work on a
charitable committee, even though she may know her well, and like her. So that if a hostess
knows the parents personally of, let us say, eighty per cent. of young
society, she can quite properly include the twenty per cent. she does not
know, so that the hundred per cent. Third, the buffet supper which is served at dances but not
at balls. In fact, champagne was the heaviest item of expenditure always. 2. 3. 4. Salad, which includes every variety known, with or without an aspic. 5. 6. And the hostess shakes hands and says "How do you do, I am
very glad to see you." If other young men or any young girls are standing
near, the hostess very likely introduces him. She takes steps of medium length, and,
like all people who move and dance well, walks from the hip, not the knee. Nor when walking, does she wave her hands about in gesticulation. Each young girl, if she had a
partner, had a place where she belonged and where she sat throughout the
evening. When the cotillion
began, the girl who had no partner--went home. She had to. She danced badly. No one
"cut in" and they danced and danced, sat down and danced again. Mary
arrived. From half-past ten until supper at half-past one, Jim
was "planted." In New York there are often two or three dances given on the same
evening, and he likes to drift from one to the other just as he likes to
drift from one partner to another, or not dance at all if he does not want
to. If a man knows
that having asked a girl to dance, one of her group will inevitably "cut
in," he is eager to dance with her. One might
almost say they form a little club; they dance as much as they like, but
come back "home" between whiles. And for
this, especial talents are needed just as they are for art or sport or any
other accomplishment. Almost always
she is pretty. The girl who is
beautiful and dances well is, of course, the ideal ballroom belle. All things being more or less equal, the girl who dances best
has the most partners. If she can become possessed with
the idea that she is having a good time and look as though she were, the
psychological effect is astonishing. Or, the one, who was
first dancing with her, may "cut in on" the partner who took her from him,
after she has danced once around the ballroom. (Not in London, nor on the
Continent.) But this is neither customary nor
even a generally known practise. After the dinner the
pathways of grass were taken up to permit dancing by the guests." Music need not be an orchestra but it must be good, and the floor must be
adequate and smooth. Subscription dances such as these are managed and all invitations are
issued by patronesses who are always ladies of unquestioned social
prominence. The list may be a hundred, or it may stay at the
original group of a half dozen or so. The members of the organization are elected just as the others
are, for life. They always stand in line and bow to each person who is
announced, but do not shake hands. Fourth, is a small tea without music. Worldly, my daughter." Or
"Cynthia, I want to present you to Mrs. Worldly." If there are no others entering at the moment,
each guest makes a few pleasant remarks. Personal compliments, however, are proper only from a close friend. =THE DÉBUTANTE RECEIVES=
At a ball, where the guests begin coming about half past ten, the
débutante must stand beside the hostess and "receive" until at least
twelve o'clock--later if guests still continue to arrive. Those of smaller means, or those who object to hotel rooms, ask only
younger people, and give the tea in their own house. Where there are two
rooms on a floor--drawing-room in front, dining-room back, and a library
on the floor above, the guests are received in the drawing-room, but
whether they dance in the dining-room or up in the library, depends upon
which room is the larger. In the present day, however, at least in New York, there is a growing
tendency to eliminate these general or "impersonal" invitations. In New York last winter
there were scarcely a dozen private balls all told. =THE DÉBUTANTE'S DRESS=
At a ball, the débutante wears her very prettiest ball dress. For a young girl to whom white is unbecoming, a
color is perfectly suitable as long as it is a pale shade. Her
mother, of course, wears as handsome a ball dress as possible, and "all
her jewels." At an afternoon tea the débutante wears an evening dress--a very simple
evening dress, but an evening dress all the same. Her
mother wears an afternoon dress, not an evening one. Both mother and
daughter wear long gloves, and neither they, nor the young girls
receiving, wear hats. Almost before this page
comes from the printer, the trend may quite likely change. You are
excited, of course you are! It is your evening, and you are a sort of
little princess! Then suddenly, half way up the stairs you see Betty and Anne and Fred and
Ollie. The lady and gentleman of whom you are so rudely
unaware, happen to be Mr. and Mrs. Worldly, my
daughter." You look directly at Mrs. Worldly, put out your hand, say "How
do you do, Mrs. Worldly." And she passes on. But to
your family or your own intimate friends, the verbal thanks--if not too
casually made--are sufficient. Don't talk or laugh
loud enough to attract attention, and on no account force yourself to
laugh. A girl's popularity in a ballroom is of importance to be sure, but not
greatly more so than the dancing popularity of a youth. In other days beauty was worshiped for itself alone, and it has
votaries of sorts to-day. Her position, if she is not a
relative, is very like that of a companion. She can perfectly well be reasonably
young, and a spinster. If her father is alive, the invitations go out in his name of course, and
he receives with her. But if it should happen that she has no near family
at all, or if her chaperon is her social sponsor, the chaperon's name can
be put on invitations. or, "On the sixteenth?" If the time is afternoon, very likely she pours tea and when
everyone has been helped, she goes into another room. She does not stay
with them ever, but she is never very far away. It is an unforgivable breach of decorum to allow a
young girl to sit up late at night with a young man--or a number of them. On returning home from a party, she must not invite or allow a man to
"come in for a while." As said above, interpretation of what is proper shifts according to
locality. And, eagle-eyed, protective of
Mary, they watch him. If her father refuses, the engagement cannot exist. But even so, there is no
excuse for the most unfilial act of all--deception. If this is impossible, she at least refuses
to give her word that she will not marry. If illness or
absence prevents one of them, the other must go alone. In the present day, precious stones having soared far out of reach of all
but the really rich, fashion rather prefers a large semi-precious one to a
microscopic diamond. She is not "welcomed by the family" until their
cards, left upon her in person, assure her so. She must, of course, return
all of these visits, and as soon as possible. But I certainly am lucky
and I know it." Where there is no money, it is necessary to wait for better finances. A long engagement is trying to everyone--the man, the girl, both
families, and all friends. It is an unnatural state, like that of waiting
at the station for a train, and in a measure it is time wasted. His family never see him. He has no time between business
and going to see her to stop at his club or wherever friends of his may
be. Once they are married, they no longer belong in a backwater, but find
themselves again sailing in midstream. They should take a chaperon if they motor to road-houses for
meals--and it goes without saying that they cannot go on a journey alone
that can possibly last over night. It is perfectly suitable for her to drive his car, or ride his horse, and
she may select furniture for their house, which he may buy or have built. He may give her all the jewels he can afford, he may give her a fur
scarf, but not a fur coat. The scarf is an ornament, the coat is wearing
apparel. But the superstition
that Friday and the month of May are unlucky, is too stupid to discuss. Each name is clearly marked, of course,
whether for "house" or "church" invitation. When a poor girl marries, her wedding must be in keeping with the means of
her parents. It was in June in the country. She was very young, and divinely beautiful, and fresh
and sweet. Later on, she had all the
clothes that money could buy, but in none of them was she ever more lovely
than in her fashionless wedding dress of tarlatan and tulle, and the plain
little frock in which she drove away. The bride and
bridesmaids wear dresses that are perhaps more elaborate and "evening" in
model, and the bridegroom as well as all men present wear evening clothes,
of course. The bride should, of
course, not wear satin and lace; she could wear organdie (let us hope the
nine o'clock wedding is in summer! ), or she could wear very simple white
crêpe de chine. Notes of thanks can be very short, but they should be written with as
little delay as possible. Some people write "All good wishes" or "With best wishes," but most people
send cards without messages. The only reason for not showing
them, is lack of room in an apartment house. It has happened more than once. Six to twelve blankets. One or two dozen damask tablecloths, plain, with monogram, and a dozen
napkins to match each. Is she
going to travel, or live quietly in the country? Certain things
such as footwear and gloves have to be bought, and are necessary. There can, however, be no
objection to her so doing, if it is the custom of the place in which she
lives. Flower girls
and pages are dressed in quaint old-fashioned dresses and suits of satin
with odd old-fashioned bonnets--or whatever the bride fancies as being
especially "picturesque." "No," said the uncle, "I did not think it was lovely at all. Why this is so, is a mystery. Her sister is always maid of honor; if she
has no sister, she chooses her most intimate friend. Or she may have none at all. The bride returns the compliment by asking the sister of the groom who is
nearest her own age, to be bridesmaid, or if he has no sister, she asks a
cousin or even occasionally shows her courtesy by asking the groom to name
a particular friend of his. The bride in asking her does not say:
"Will you be one of my bridesmaids because Jim wants me to ask you." As to his tie, he may choose an "Ascot" of black
and white or gray patterned silk. Plain black silk socks. Boutonnière will be at the church. Be at the church yourself at three o'clock, sharp." The bride usually goes to oversee the last fittings of the bridesmaids'
dresses in order to be sure that they are as she wants them. A boisterous picture, but
scarcely a vicious one! The impulse to break more glass is
natural to youth, and probably still occurs. Cuff links are the most popular gift; scarf-pins in
localities where they are still fashionable. Some one else--anyone who
happens to be present--is appointed understudy. They line up at
the door, walk forward two and two. It must not be fast enough to look brisk, or so slow as to be
funereal. At the foot of the chancel, the ushers divide. The second two go to a step or two below the first. If there are more, they stand below again. Flower girls and pages are put above or below the
bridesmaids wherever it is thought "the picture" is best. They never stand all on the bride's side, and
the ushers on the groom's. At a few paces behind him follows the groom, who in turn is
followed by the best man. After the procession has practised "marching" two or
three times, everything ought to be perfect. It is much better
frankly to tell the proprietor, or room clerk, at the same time asking
him to "keep the secret." Bright and early in the morning he hurries to the house of the groom,
generally before the latter is up. He
takes note of his patient's general condition; if he is normal and "fit,"
so much the better. He must see that the clothes
the groom is to "wear away" are put into a special bag to be taken to the
house of the bride (where he, as well as she, must change from wedding
into traveling clothes). If he is very thoughtful, he may himself put flowers about the rooms. Or, if they are going at once by boat or train, the best man takes the
baggage to the station, checks the large pieces, and fees a porter to see
that the hand luggage is put in the proper stateroom or parlor car chairs. He must see that the groom is dressed and
ready early, and plaster him up if he cuts himself shaving. A very careful best man carries a duplicate ring, in case of one
being lost during the ceremony. Even if the wedding is to be at four o'clock, it will still be early in
the morning when the business of the day begins. They will, however, not be allowed
to linger long at the table. Next, excited voices in the hall announce members of the family who come
from a distance. They all want to kiss the bride, they all want rooms to
dress in, they all want to talk. And for the third time, the florist agrees about the
advantage of the window but points out that the library has only one
narrow door and that the drawing-room is much better, because it has two
wide ones and guests going into the room will not be blocked in the
doorway by others coming out. Best man very important, also very noble and silent. More presents arrive. The house is as cold as open windows can make it, to keep the flowers
fresh, and to avoid stuffiness. She at least is on time. The time is too short, nothing will be ready! Some one else says the
bridesmaid is far too early, there is no end of time. Or, if the wedding is a small one, she wears no
gloves at all. "Dearest, you are too lovely!" and
"Darling, how wonderful you look!" 'Borrowed,' and 'blue'?" A chorus of voices: "Wear my ring," "Wear
my pin," "Wear mine! The bride drives to the church with
her father only. They leave their hats in the vestry, or coat room. Their boutonnières,
sent by the groom, should be waiting in the vestibule. They should be in
charge of a boy from the florist's, who has nothing else on his mind but
to see that they are there, that they are fresh and that the ushers get
them. Each man puts one in his buttonhole, and also puts on his gloves. The right hand side
of the church is the groom's side always, the left is that of the bride. An usher
offers his arm to each lady as she arrives, whether he knows her
personally or not. But this is not done unless the crowd is great and the time short. Such
as:
"I am so sorry you came late, all the good seats are taken further up." or "Too bad it is
raining." Or, perhaps the lady is first in making a similar remark or two
to him. The second, and far better method, is to have a pew card sent, enclosed
with the wedding invitation, or an inscribed visiting card sent by either
family. A guest who has a card with "Pew No. 12" on it, knows, and the
usher knows, exactly where she is to go. The groom's mother and father also are waiting in the
vestibule. The moment the entire wedding party is at the
church, the doors between the vestibule and the church are _closed_. No
one is seated after this, except the parents of the young couple. The sound of the music is also the cue for the clergyman to enter the
chancel, followed by the groom and his best man. Usually she
carries a bridal bouquet of white flowers, either short, or with streamers
(narrow ribbons with little bunches of blossoms on the end of each) or
trailing vines, or maybe she holds a long sheaf of stiff flowers such as
lilies on her arm. The bride relinquishes her father's
arm, changes her bouquet from her right to her left, and gives her right
hand to the groom. =HER FATHER GIVES HER AWAY=
Her father has remained where she left him, on her left and a step or two
behind her. The bride and groom
follow slowly, the fingers of her right hand on his left arm. She alone can decide. The wedding ring must not be put above the engagement ring. The bride takes her bouquet from
her maid of honor (who removes the veil if she wore one over her face). The bride and groom go on down
the aisle. Inside the house the florist has finished, an orchestra is
playing in the hall or library, everything is in perfect order. The bride stands on her husband's right and her bridesmaids are either
grouped beyond her or else divided, half on her side and half on the side
of the groom, forming a crescent with bride and groom in the center. and pass on. If you know them fairly well, you may say to him "I hope your good luck
will stay with you always!" To all the above, the groom and bride answer merely "Thank you." A man might say to the groom "Good luck to you, Jim, old man!" Or, "She is
the most lovely thing I have ever seen!" And to her, "I hope you will
have every happiness!" Or, "Mrs. Neighbor, you know Jim, don't you?" Or formally, "Mrs.
Faraway, may I present my husband?" Or, "Mrs. Denver, do you know Mary?" Or, "Hello, Steve,
let me introduce you to my wife; Mary, this is Steve Michigan." Steve says
"How do you do, Mrs. The bride with a good memory thanks each arriving person for the gift sent
her: "Thank you so much for the lovely candlesticks," or "I can't tell you
how much I love the dishes!" The person who is thanked says, "I am so glad
you like it (or them)," or "I am so glad! I hoped you might find it
useful." Or "I didn't have it marked, so that in case you have a
duplicate, you can change it." Your subject must not deviate from the young
couple themselves, their wedding, their future. If you have anything particular to tell them, you can return
later when there is no longer a line. But even then, long conversation,
especially concerning yourself, is out of place. The groom's father is a guest and it is not necessary for strangers to
speak to him, unless he stands beside his wife and, as it were,
"receives," but there is no impropriety in any one telling him how well
they know and like his son or his new daughter-in-law. Place cards are not put on any of the small tables. Example:
[Illustration:
Bouillon
Lobster Newburg
Suprême of Chicken
Peas
Aspic of Foie Gras
Celery Salad
Ices
Coffee]
Instead of bouillon, there may be caviar or melon, or grape fruit, or a
purée, or clam broth. For lobster Newburg may be soft-shell crabs or
oyster pâté, or other fish. Or the chicken or squab may be the second course, and
an aspic with the salad, the third. The bride always cuts the cake, meaning that
she inserts the knife and makes one cut through the cake, after which each
person cuts herself or himself a slice. If there are two sets of favors
hidden in the cake, there is a mark in the icing to distinguish the
bridesmaids' side from that of the ushers. The groom's father always sits on the right of the
bride's mother, and the groom's mother has the place of honor on the
host's right. Ice cream is quite as fashionable as individual "ices." The bride and
groom dance at first together, and then each with bridesmaids or ushers or
other guests. The groom's
clothes should be "apparently" new, but need not actually be so. They seemingly count "one,
two, three, go!" The wedding guests stand out on the street or roadway looking after them
for as long as a vestige can be seen--and then gradually disperse. Or, it may be that they choose a novel journey,
for there is, of course, no regulation vehicle. Usually she does, or he does. So they wait,
feeling sure that in good time they will be sent for. These,
though all necessary, are external attributes. There is something glad yet
sweet, shy yet triumphant, serious yet--radiant! And a happy groom looks first of all protective--he, too, may have
the quality of radiance, but it is different--more directly glad. They
both look as though there were sunlight behind their eyes, as though their
mouths irresistibly turned to smiles. A small space near the altar is
fenced off with other ribbons, for the family. It can be made in roughest fashion by any carpenter, or
amateur, as it is entirely hidden under leaves and flowers. The wedding march
begins and the ushers come down two and two, followed by the bridesmaids,
exactly as in a church, the bride coming last on her father's arm. The
clergyman and the groom and best man have, if possible, reached the altar
by another door. If the room has only one door, they go up the aisle a few
moments before the bridal procession starts. After the ceremony, there is no
recessional. Why this is so, is hard to
determine. The bride wears an afternoon street
dress and hat. 2. 3. 4. This may be omitted at the house in good
weather, at the church, and also in the country. 5. 6. Choir, soloists and organist at church. (Choir and soloists
unnecessary.) 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. The bride gives a "wedding present" or a "wedding" ring or both to the
groom, if she especially wants to. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. To each of the above he gives their wedding ties, gloves and
boutonnières. 7. In New York's smart world, the
bridesmaids' bouquets are looked upon as part of the decorative
arrangement, all of which is in the province of the bride's parents. 8. The wedding ring. 9. 10. Most often it is a dinner,
and occasionally, an afternoon tea. Affectionately,
Lucy Gilding. I arrived last night and my mother and father were very glad to
see me, and I am now eagerly waiting to see you. Your loving godson,
Robert Gilding, 3d. It's a boy. Gilding. Godparents should, however, be chosen
from among friends rather than relatives, since the sole advantage of
godparents is that they add to the child's relatives, so that if it
should be left alone in the world, its godparents become its protectors. Godparents must, of course, give the baby a present, if not before,
at least at the christening. And you can scarcely expect a self-respecting baby who
is hauled and mauled and taken to a strange place and handed to a strange
person who pours cold water on it--not to protest. it has only
one means. If not, the baby's father or another member of the family
clears an aisle. But however much or little its
trimming, it must be exquisite in texture. In fact, everything for a baby
ought to be hand-made. It can be as plain as a charity garment, but of
fine material and tiny hand stitches. If the baby is very little, it is
usually laid on a lace trimmed pillow. (This lace, too, must be
valenciennes.) If he is not, then an outside funeral director
is sent for.) Persons they normally like, they often turn from. If they feel unequal to going
to the table, a very little food should be taken to them on a tray. A cup
of tea or coffee or bouillon, a little thin toast, a poached egg, milk if
they like it hot, or milk toast. Near relatives are never chosen, as their place is with
the women of the family. For a young woman, her own friends or those of
her family are chosen. Alterations, if
required, are made later. The house is always full of
people, family and intimate friends occupy all available accommodation,
but it is a rare household which does not give sympathy as generously
below stairs as above; and he or she would be thought very heartless by
their companions who did not willingly and helpfully assume a just share
of the temporary tax on energy, time and consideration. They should always take extra pencils in case the
points break, and write on the outside of each envelope a description of
the flowers that the card was sent with. The women wear small hats or toques and long
crepe veils over their faces, so that their countenances may be hidden. And fortunately, such
encounters are few. Uncut velvet is as deep
mourning as crepe, but cut velvet is not mourning at all! Nor is satin or
lace. Fancy weaves in stockings are not mourning, nor is bright jet or silver. They never wear veils of any sort,
nor are their clothes trimmed in crepe. Young children are rarely put into mourning, though their
clothes are often selected to avoid vivid color. The more absolutely
plain, the more appropriate and dignified is the mourning dress. Or "Little she seems to have cared for her mother--and such a lovely one
she had, too." The sleeve band, from three and a half to four and a half inches
in width, is of dull broadcloth on overcoats or winter clothing, and of
serge on summer clothes. The sleeve band of mourning is sensible for many
reasons, the first being that of economy. The house footman is always put into a black livery with dull buttons and
a black and white striped waistcoat. Also no one expects a
long letter, nor does any one look for an early reply. It takes but a moment to write "Thank you," or "Thank you for all
sympathy," or "Thank you for your kind offers and sympathy." Many, many such notes can be written in a day. Most people find a sad comfort as well as pain, in the reading and
replying to letters and cards, but they should not sit at it too long; it
is apt to increase rather than assuage their grief. You should wear black clothes if you have them, or if not, the darkest,
the least conspicuous you possess. Many come in their own cars,
the others are met at the station--sometimes by the host or a son, or, if
it is to be a young party, by a daughter. Should any of them feel dusty or otherwise "untidy" they naturally ask if
they may be shown to their rooms so that they can make themselves
presentable. They should not, however, linger longer than necessary, as
their hostess may become uneasy at their delay. Gentlemen,
needless to say, leave theirs in the hall when they come in. About an hour before dinner the hostess asks how long
every one needs to dress, and tells them the time. The three exceptions are:
1. 2. 3. If
she does not do this actually, she should do so in imagination. Not just a
decorative glow-worm effect, but a light that is really good to lie in bed
and read by. In a hunting country, there should be a bootjack and boothooks in the
closet. The rooms should also, if possible, be away from
the kitchen end of the house and the nursery. But if the guest card is used, a specimen is
given below. If the guest says, in her room, she is then asked what she would
like to eat. She is also asked whether she cares for milk or fruit or
other light refreshment at bedtime, and if there is a special book she
would like to take up to her room. X." If
not, will you ring?" If some of them are going, she "accepts with pleasure," but if not,
the chances are she "regrets." Golden Hall is not an imaginary place, except in name. The house is a palace, the grounds are a park. The second floor has nothing but bedrooms, with bath for
each. The third floor has bachelor rooms, and rooms for visiting valets. "Oh, it's just a little farmhouse. "Evidently plain people," thought his wife. asked her husband, "Is that the red you had on the other
night? It is much too handsome, much! I tell you, Mrs. Oldname never wears
a dress that you could notice. The visitor noticed that
the flowers were all of one color, all in perfect bloom. "Oh," said he abashed, "I told you it was a little house--it was you who
insisted on bringing that red dress. Why, the window curtains are as fine as the best
clothes in my trousseau." The two houses contrasted above are two extremes, but each a luxury. If there are no men servants the
waitress has to carry up the tray. No woman gets as much as that,
for such short service. The notice is signed by the host. Secondly,
they can absolutely count that so many visitors will bring them precisely
such an amount. Most people who breakfast "in bed" take only coffee or tea,
an egg, toast and possibly fruit. It is unforgivable to criticize
your host, or in his presence to criticize his friends. It is unforgivable
to be rude to any one under your own roof or under the roof of a friend. If you take some one under your roof, he
becomes part of, and sharer in, your life and possessions. You give him the
best "spare" room, you set before him the best refreshments you can offer,
and your "best" china and glass. They are told there is bathing, fishing, golf; and if they want to
do any of these things, it is arranged for them. If there are thirty guests
it makes no difference. As
said before, a big house is run very much like a country club, and guests
are supposed to look after themselves. He can then start his day all by himself in the
barnyard hours without disturbing any one, and in comfort to himself. No
effort is assumed for his amusement, or responsibility for his
well-being. They've put you in the Chinese room, I
think. If not, you'll have to telephone and get out
of it yourself. I want you to dinner to-morrow night and for lunch on
Sunday. Sorry to leave you, but I'm late for bridge now. Good-by." And she
is off. =THE ENERGETIC HOSTESS=
The energetic hostess is the antithesis of the one above, and far more
universally known. After twenty
minutes at the golf club, they are all taken to a church fair. Soon,
however, their hostess leaves. think they. Not at all. Unless she is actually unable to stand up, she should not mention
physical ills any more than mental ones. Should she herself or some one in her family become suddenly
ill, she should make as light of it as possible to her guests, even though
she withdraw from them. Nor are men the only offenders. If you know anyone who is always in demand, not only for dinners, but for
trips on private cars and yachts, and long visits in country houses, you
may be very sure of one thing: the popular person is first of all
unselfish or else extremely gifted; very often both. She never for one moment thinks of herself, but of the other people she is
thrown with. At games she is a good loser, and a quiet
winner. She has more than mere beauty; she has infinite charm, and she is so well
born that she is charming to everyone. If not, think very, very
carefully before you embark! No one declined, not even the
Worldlys, though there is a fly in the amber of their perfect
satisfaction. Mrs. Kindhart wrote "not to bring a maid." Mrs. Worldly is
very much disturbed, because she cannot do her hair herself. Mr. The women also give thought
to their wardrobes--consisting chiefly in a process of elimination. One or two decide to take tea
gowns in dark color and plainest variety. Finally the day arrives. Her enthusiasm is
contagious, the children look blooming. Inside they vary in size; most have two, some
have four rooms, but each is merely one pointed-roofed space. Mrs. Before she has had much time to reflect, Mrs.
Kindhart reports that lunch is nearly ready. Guides come with canisters of
hot water, and everyone goes to dress. Town clothes disappear, and woods
clothes emerge. Mrs. One or two of the others who have not been there before, look mildly
surprised. Mrs. Kindhart smiles, "I'm sorry, but I told you it was 'roughing it.' Mrs. Worldly tries to
look amiable, all the rest succeed. The food is limited in variety but delicious. The women go with their
husbands, or two together, with a guide. Should any not want to go out,
she can take to one of the hammocks, or a divan in the living-room, and a
book. The food is abundant and delicious,
whether cooked in the house or by the guides in the woods. Men put on flannel trousers, soft
shirts, and flannel or serge sack coats. Or if it is stormy, they sit in front of a
fire, almost as big, in the living-room. If it is hard for you to
write in a straight line, use the lined guide that comes with nearly all
stationery; if impossible to keep an even margin, draw a perpendicular
line at the left of the guide so that you can start each new line of
writing on it. Some people use smaller paper for
notes, or correspondence cards, cut to the size of the envelopes. The name
of the place should be engraved, in the center usually, at the top of the
first page. With heavy or tissue-lined envelopes, the fourth is used as
often as the third. It is undoubtedly a good idea, but makes a stuttering
impression upon one not accustomed to it. Smith." No lady should ever sign a letter "respectfully," not even were
she writing to a queen. _Closing a Formal Note_
The best ending to a formal social note is, "Sincerely," "Sincerely
yours," "Very sincerely," "Very sincerely yours," "Yours always
sincerely," or "Always sincerely yours." Believe me
Very sincerely yours,
or
Believe me, my dear Mrs. Smith, instead, or perhaps, at the end of
personal letters, John H.T. Smith. It is, after all, his
own name to sign as he chooses, and in addressing him deference to his
choice should be shown. Thus:
Very truly yours,
Sarah Robinson Smith. (Mrs. J.H. Titherington Smith.) John Smith, esquire, is John Smith, gentleman. If her son's wife should have the same name, she becomes Mrs.
James Town, Sr., or simply Mrs. Town. The eldest daughter is Miss Smith; her younger sister, Miss Jane Smith. Even if the Jones children are young, the Misses Jones
should receive a separate envelope, and so should Master Jones. Paint & Co.,
22 Branch St.,
New York. Very truly yours,
C.R. Town. Complimentary close,
Signature. I do hope the addresses will be of some use to you, and that you
will have a delightful trip,
Very sincerely,
Martha Kindhart. Thursday. Very sincerely,
Ethel Norman. Tuesday morning. =II=
Dear Mrs. Always sincerely yours,
Katherine de Puyster Eminent. Martin, Agnes
Repplier, John Galsworthy and Max Beerbohm. E.V. Thank you, very, very much. Looking forward to seeing you on the tenth,
Very sincerely,
Mary Smith. Usually, however, "you" is
understood to mean "you both." =II=
Dear Mrs. Affectionately,
Mary Smith. Hoping that you are surely coming to the wedding,
Very sincerely,
Mary Smith. Devotedly,
Mary. And I am so
excited oven it, I hardly know what I am doing. You are too good
to me and you spoil me, but I do love you, and it, and thank you
with all my heart. Mary. I appreciate your lovely gift more than I can
tell you, both for its own sake and for your kindness in making
it for me. Don't forget, you are coming in on Tuesday afternoon to see the
presents. Lovingly,
Mary. They
were a great surprize, but it was more than kind of you to think
of us. Very sincerely,
Mary Smith. Yours affectionately,
Mary Smith Smartlington. At all events, I am perfectly enchanted
with it, and thank you ever and ever so much. Affectionately,
Sally. Rosalie. Thank you, dear. Ethel. Thank you, as usual, you dear
Mrs. Kindhart, for your goodness to
Your affectionate,
Sally. Do come in and see him, won't you? We are both allowed visitors
(especial ones) every day between 4 and 5.30! Affectionately always,
Lucy. Town." Dear Mrs. Always sincerely,
Constance Style. "Suppose they don't like me," was all that I could think. Of
course, I knew you loved Dick--but that only made it worse. How
awful, if you _couldn't_ like me! With best love from us both,
Your affectionate niece,
Helen. Devotedly always,
Caroline. You and John and the
children, and your place, which is the essence of all that a
"home" ought to be, have put me on my feet again. Fred. David sends "his best" to you and Charlie, and you know you
always have the love of
Your devoted
Pat. We enjoyed, and appreciated, all your kindness to us
more than we can say. It is, of course, proper to give your personal
representative a letter of introduction to whomever you send him. Faithfully,
Arthur Norman. Any kindness that you can show him will be
greatly appreciated by
Yours as always,
Ethel Norman. He used to be
on the Yalvard football team, perhaps you remember. I don't
want to put you to any trouble, but do ask him to your house if
you can. He plays a wonderful game of golf and a good game of
bridge, but he is more a man's than a woman's type of man. Maybe
if Tom likes him, he will put him up at a club as he is to be in
Chicago for some weeks. Affectionately always,
Ethel. Yours affectionately,
Sylvia Greatlake. I hope I am not putting you to any trouble about her, but she is
really a darling and you will like her I know. Devotedly yours,
Sylvia. January 6. Smith. Very sincerely,
Ethel Norman. I have found her honest, sober, industrious, neat in her person
as well as her work, of amiable disposition and a very good cook. Josephine Smith. (Mrs. Titherington Smith)
October, 1921. I have found
him/ her ----. Jim's family and ours are very close, as you
know, and we have always been especially devoted to Jim. Affectionately,
Ethel Norman. Just a line, dear Jim, to tell you how glad we all are to hear of
your happiness. I can't tell you, dearest Mary, of all the wishes I send for your
happiness. Give Jim my love and tell him how lucky I think he is,
and how much I hope all good fortune will come to you both. Lovingly,
Aunt Kate. We are both so glad for him and for you. Please give him our love and congratulations, and with
full measure of both to you,
Affectionately,
Martha Kindhart. Please give my love to
Alice, and with renewed congratulations to you from us both. Yours always,
Ethel Norman. John Kindhart. One rule, and one only, should guide you in
writing such letters. Say what you truly feel. Sit down at your desk, let your thoughts dwell on the person you are
writing to. Or suppose that you are a returned
soldier, and it is a pal who has died. If I can be of any service to you, you know how grateful
I shall be. | Washington, D.C. |
| | (There is only one |
| | "President") |
| | |
| | |
---------------+---------------------+----------------------------+-------------
The | Mr. | Washington, D.C. |
| | |
---------------+---------------------+----------------------------+-------------
Justice of | Mr. Justice | The Hon. | or
| | | Sir:
---------------+---------------------+----------------------------+-------------
Cardinal | Your Eminence | His Eminence John Cardinal | Your
| | Gibbons, Baltimore, Md. | Yours faithfully. | Associate Justice,
| | remain, | | Mr. Justice
| | Yours very truly. | Same as above. | of Commerce. | Same as above. | and unusual
| | | | occasions,
| | | | Senator Lodge of
| | | | Massachusetts. | Mr. Bell: | Believe me, | |
| or | Yours very truly. | Yours faithfully. | or, (out of it,)
| | Yours faithfully. | Mayor Rolph. | Rolph: | Very truly yours. Geo. or | Saintly. (If you do | or
| LL.D., you call him | not know his first | My dear Sir:
| Dr. Saintly.) | name, write The |
| | Rev. ... Saintly. |
| | rather than the |
| | Rev. Mr. Saintly) |
---------------+----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------
Rabbi | Rabbi Wise | Dr. Stephen Wise, | Dear Sir:
| (If he is D.D. or | or Rabbi Stephen |
| LL.D., he is called | Wise, or Rev. |
| Dr. Wise) | Stephen Wise. |
| | |
| | |
| | |
---------------+----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------
Minister | In English he is | The Hon. J.D. The | His Excellency, The | used in
| title "Excellency" | American Minister, | courtesy. John Smith, |
| | otherwise: |
| | John Smith, Esq., |
| | American Consul, |
| | Rue Quelque Chose, |
| | Paris. | Manning. | Duffy. |-------------------+-------------------------+----------------+----------------
| Dear Dr. Saintly: | Same as above, | Faithfully | Dr. (or Mr.)
| (or Dear Mr. | | yours, or | Saintly
| Saintly if he is | | Sincerely |
| not a D.D.) Wise: | I beg to remain, | Yours | Rabbi Wise. or very | |
| | formally: I have the | |
| | honor to remain, sir, | |
| | your obedient servant. | Yours | Mr. Prince,
| Minister: | | faithfully, | the American
| or Dear | | | Minister, or
| Mr. Prince: | | | merely, The
| | | | American
| | | | Minister as
| | | | everyone is
| | | | supposed to
| | | | know his name
| | | | or find it
| | | | out. is probably advertisement or appeal,
forty per cent. business, and scarcely ten per cent. It may be, too, that in other days the average
writing was no better than the average of to-day. Once they are started, the middle goes smoothly enough, until
they face the difficulty of the end. You don't know, dear
Mary, how many letters I have written you in thought." Devotedly,
Kate." Lovingly,
Mary." So good-by, dear Mary,
for to-day." Or:
"We have had a wonderful trip, but I do miss you all at home, and long to
hear from you soon again." I do hope you are coming
back soon." There is scarcely any one who has not one or more
relatives or friends whose letters belong in one of these classes. I am worried
to death about her, as there are so many sudden cases of typhoid and
appendicitis. You can mark my words, the night of bad times isn't much more
than begun." Or, "I have scarcely slept for nights, worrying about whether Junior has
passed his examinations or not." Mentally, he seems to say: "Well,
here I am--and now what?" I am certainly not dark, and yet fair hair suggests a
sort of straw color. Gray
certainly looks pretty in the spring, it is so clean and fresh looking. Maybe it won't be as pretty though as the gray,"
etc., etc. Admiration for the quickness of a spoken quip,
somewhat mitigates its cruelty. Without
the interpretation of the voice, gaiety becomes levity, raillery becomes
accusation. Or, "we all hope you
are coming back in time for the Towns' dance. Carrie will write you very soon, she says, and we
all send love. "Affectionately,
"Ruth." For the best selection of words to use, study the King James
version of the Bible. He whose manners are only put
on in company is a veneered gentleman, not a real one. Nobody cares whom she
knows--nobody that is, but a climber like herself. to a
butler; and to a sister duchess's maid, "Good morning, Jenkins." The friend says,
"I'll be very glad to," and Dick says the same. The
other says, "I think I should like to," and the first replies, "Let me put
you up, and Dick will be only too glad to second you." Example:
Board of Governors,
The Nearby Club. He is now in his father's firm (Jones, Smartlington & Co.). Yours very truly,
Donald Lovejoy. Later on, if the objection to him is disproved or overcome, his
name can again be put up. Or
"That's Double coming in now, avoid him at bridge as you would the
plague." "The roasts are always good and that waiter is the best in the
room," etc. If not, he is not admitted. Nearly all country clubs have, however, one open door--unknown to city
ones. But this is unusual. If a new member happens to find no one in the club whom he knows, he goes
about his own affairs. In some clubs guests may be put up for a day
only, in others the privilege extends for two weeks or more. Example:
Secretary,
The Town Club. Yours very truly,
Clubwin Doe. 7.] to [HW: Jan. 14.] He
may ask a member whom he knows well to lunch with him in the club rooms,
but he must not ask one whom he knows only slightly. He has no right to criticise the management,
the rules or the organization of the club. In New York you take your hat off and behave as though the rooms were
empty; but as though you were being observed through loop-holes in the
walls." In New York you are introduced occasionally, but you may never ask to be
introduced, and you speak only to those you have been introduced to. and often succeed in "putting it over," when it is quite
possible that they might not be his if the hand were played out. If you have not these cards you not only lose
that particular hand, but destroy his confidence in you, and the next time
when he has a legitimate raise for you, he will fail to give it. When you are dummy you have
certain duties to your partner, and so do not wander around the room until
the hand is over. If you don't know what your duties are, read the rules
until you know them by heart and then--begin all over again! Don't be offended if your partner takes you out of a bid, and don't take
him out for the glory of playing the hand. If she can't afford to hire one of
her own, she must either carry her own clubs or not play golf. Unless it is literally impossible for
you to go on, you must stick it out. In a room, an office, or an elevator, when a lady enters. In any short conversation where he is standing near, or talking with a
lady. And if she replies, "Not at all" or "Do,
by all means," it is then proper for him to do so. He should, however,
take his cigar, pipe, or cigarette, out of his mouth while he is speaking. A pipe on the street in a city, on the
other hand, is less appropriate than a cigar in the country. Perhaps he is told, "Mr.
President is in conference just now. He not only gained the good will of his visitor, but
arrived at his own appointment in plenty of time. To listen attentively when one is spoken to, is merely one of the rules
of etiquette. He who says, "That does not interest me," or "That bores me," defines his
own limitations. Etiquette, in
reverse, prescribes this necessity for complete knowledge in every contact
in life. Through knowledge alone, does one prove one's right to authority. Awkward he may have
been, but the essence of him was courtesy--unfailing courtesy. Would he be sorry that the big man
thought, "Fine boy that! He is an authority they grant, but in limited
lines only. In New York, for
instance, a woman must dress well, to pay her way. Clothes. Good clothes. Much. Comfort, convenience, becomingness, adaptability, beauty are of no
importance. Not different in being
behind fashion, but always slightly apart from it. and keeps her word, soon finds herself not at all an example of
dignity but an object of derision. No powder, not a nail
manicured. However, there
are certain rules that seem pretty well established. It is, of course, very often true,
but not invariably. To one sufficient to buy the tapestry, the flowers are
not an extravagance at all. But if it is not becoming, don't. Ladies of fashion, by the way, do not have their hair especially dressed
for formal occasions. It is low in front and high in the back, with long or
elbow sleeves--or perhaps it is Dutch neck and no sleeves. When trains are in fashion, all older women should wear them. Fashion or
no fashion, no woman who has passed forty looks really well in a cut-off
evening dress. On gala
nights, ball dresses are worn in the boxes and head-dresses and as many
jewels as one chooses--or has. If you don't know whether to put on a ball dress or a dinner
dress, wear the dinner dress. Or, whether to wear cloth or brocade to a
luncheon, wear the cloth. The grease paint withstands hot sun and water, but
it is messy. And you can look divine
too, if you choose! Next, the best habit possible. And best habits are expensive, and there
are no "second best." A habit is good or it is bad. Get boots like those of a man, low-heeled and with a
straight line from heel to back of top. If you have a great quantity of hair, you should take all the inner part
of it, coil it on top of your head so it will go under your hat out of the
way. If you have short hairs likely to blow,
you must wear a hunting hair net. Never wear a
hat that would be incorrect on a man, and don't wear it on the back of
your head or over your nose. This
one can perfectly well be a country dress, but not a "sports" one. It can have a lace slip to go over it, and
make another dress. In fact, a black
tulle can be changed almost as easily as though done with a magician's
wand. There is scarcely anywhere that you can
not, fittingly go in plain clothes. Very few, if any, people _need_ fancy
things; all people need plain ones. If in the city where you live, people wear day
clothes in the evening, you can only very slightly differ from them. But if
you have very few clothes, you can perfectly well wear any sort of day
dress that may be in fashion. Unless, of course, the waist is of a color to match the skirt so that it
has the appearance of a dress. No one has to be told what to wear to church. Quality not effect, is
the standard to seek for. A very warm, long wrap is necessary. An old fur one is
much the best, and a small, close hat that does not blow. You enter the lower reception hall and mount the bronze balustraded stairs
half way when already Mlle. She greets
you not only as though you are the only customer she has ever had, but as
though your coming has saved--just saved in time--the prestige of the
house. she coos. But the old spell works. You show that you are hypnotized by remarking absently, "It is the
color of the grass." Instantly, Mlle. And for the spring, green. It is as Madame
herself said, the color of the grass. See this shell pink chiffon, how lovely it would
look under trees of apple blossoms. Oh, what an escape. Oh, a very big Never Again! This
latter method is the easiest, and, by all odds, the safest. This last
is a dangerous phrase; "fit" means perfect set and line, not plaster
tightness. And wear it on your head,
not on the back of your neck. Have your overcoat of plain black or dark
blue material, for you must wear an overcoat with full dress even in
summer. Your stick
should be of plain Malacca or other wood, with either a crooked or
straight handle. (A full dress coat, naturally, hangs open.) The
lapels are satin faced, and the collar left in cloth, or if it is
shawl-shaped the whole collar is of satin. Fancy ties are bad form. The coat is made with two buttons
instead of one, because no waistcoat is worn with it. The coat
may be bound with braid, or, even in better taste, plain. If you
can get boots built on English lines, wear them; otherwise wear leggings. Have your breeches fit you. The coat is less important, in fact, any odd
coat will do. Shirts are of cheviot or silk or flannel, all with soft
collars attached and to match. White woolen socks are correct with white buckskin shoes in the country,
but not in town. He may have only two suits, but he wears them
alternately; if he has four suits he should wear each every fourth day. The longer time they have "to recover" their shape, the better. If ever in
doubt what to wear, the best rule is to err on the side of informality. Thus, if you are not sure whether to put on your dress suit or your
Tuxedo, wear the latter. At the opera. 2. At an evening wedding. 3. 4. At a ball, or formal evening entertainment. 5. At the theater. 2. At most dinners. 3. At informal parties. 4. Dining at home. 5. At a noon or afternoon wedding. 2. On Sunday for church (in the city). 3. 4. 5. 6. 2. Traveling. 3. The coat of a blue suit with white flannel or duck trousers for a
lunch, or to church, in the country. 4. _Only_ in the country. =THE SPOON=
In using the spoon, he holds it in his right hand like the fork. It is perfectly correct,
however, to sip a little at a time, of hot liquid from a spoon. In his left
hand is put his fork with the prongs downward, held near the top of the
handle. His index finger is placed on the shank so that it points to the
prongs, and is supported at the side by his thumb. The
knife must never be used to scoop baked potato out of the skin, or to
butter potato. And
the child then has his say. If there are no boys, girls
perform this office; very often they both do. If many people are present
and the children are not spoken to, they leave the room unobtrusively and
quietly. If it is her birthday and
other children bring her gifts, she must say "Thank you" politely. When she herself goes to a party, she must say, "How do you do," when she
enters the room, and curtsy to the lady who receives. A boy makes a bow. They should have equally good manners as when at home, and not try to grab
more than their share of favors or toys. the child
answers, "Yes, Mrs. Smith." Both boys and girls must therefore answer, "No, Mrs. Smith,"
"Yes, Miss Jones." A girl says "Yes, Mr. Smith," rather than "sir." All
children should say, "What did you say, mother?" "No, father," "Thank you,
Aunt Kate," "Yes, Uncle Fred," etc. They need not insert a name in a long sentence nor with "please," or
"thank you." "Yes, please," or "No, thank you," is quite sufficient. Or in
answering, "I just saw Mary down in the garden," it is not necessary to
add "Mrs. Smith" at the end. If food is too hot, quickly take a swallow of water. If food has been taken into your mouth, no matter how you hate it,
you have got to swallow it. It is unforgivable to take anything out of
your mouth that has been put in it, except dry bones, and stones. You cut off as much of
the meat as you can, and leave the rest on your plate. A steel knife must not be used
for salad or fruit, because it turns black. As said above,
one eats with a fork or spoon "finger-foods" that are messy and sticky;
one eats with the finger those which are dry. At home, when there is no
reason for leaning across the table, there is no reason for elbows. In the present day of rush and hurry, there is little time for "home"
example. is very, very far from being "an influence" on your children's
morals, minds or manners. Or, "That old dress will do!" Nor need there be really. Reading at table is allowable at breakfast and when
eating alone, but a man and his wife should no more read at lunch or
dinner before each other or their children than they should allow their
children to read before them. "Then you must do it, dear," is the mother's only possible comment. The cigar which is smoldering has, on most women, the same
effect. When they grew tired of its novelty, they crocheted again until they came
to the next prize. The safest thing to do is to walk. =REGISTERING IN A HOTEL=
A gentleman writes in the hotel register: "John Smith, New York." if he is alone. But if his wife is
with him, the prefix to their joint names is correct: "Mr. and Mrs. John
Smith, New York." If he does not like the "Mr."
before his name he can sign his own without, on one line, and then write
"Mrs. Smith" on the one below. In this country you register in the
office and are shown to your room, or rooms, by a bell-boy--in some hotels
by a bell-boy and a maid. Or if they are traveling alone, they
arrange to have one of the small tables for two, to themselves. Better sit
with me, I always have the table by the door; it is easy to get in and
out." I want you to sit next
to him." On the
deck, the Smartlys appear and ask the Lovejoys to sit with them. As said in "Introductions," introducing oneself is often perfectly
correct. Brown." If not, you
do not tip them. If you have been ill on the voyage, some ship's doctors send in a bill;
others do not. Nor would she fail to say, "Good morning, Auguste," or
"Marie," to her own servants. You enter a room, you bow, you shake hands, you say,
"How do you do." If you know him really well, you call him
"Arlington." "Yes, sir." "Very much indeed, Madam." "I think so, Madam." All people
are imitative. When he is not making a
noise, he is eating. She is also (we know, but Europe doesn't) a perfectly "good" girl. Her lack of etiquette is shocking, but her morals are above reproach. It is a very snobbish opinion, and one who has the
temerity to attempt traveling all by herself has undoubtedly the ability
to see it through. Garage charges are reasonable, but gasoline is high. Roads are beautiful,
and traveling--once you have your car--is much cheaper than by train. you ask. They need not "start" to
begin with, but having once started, they must see it through. The
other countries are old, we are youth personified! Address, forms of. Afternoon parties, chapter on, 165-176. Afternoon teas. See: Teas. Americans abroad, 604-616. Answering the door, 145. See also:
"Not at home." Anthem, national, 23. Argumentativeness, 50. Arm, etiquette of offering and taking, 30. Artichokes, how to eat, 583. Asking for a dance, 267, 270. Asparagus, how to eat, 582. Assemblies, 272-275. Assemblyman, 486, 487. At home with dancing, invitations to an, 112-116. Au revoir, avoidance of use of, 19. Automobiles. See: Motoring; Vehicles. Bachelor girl, 295. Beginning a letter, 492-494. Best Society, chapter on, 1-3;
definition of, 3. Big dinners, 225-226. Birds, how to eat, 584, 585. Bones, management of, at table, 583-584. Boots, 551, 568. Boutonnière, 334, 344, 354, 357, 551, 563. Bridal veil, 350, 351. Bride's going away dress, 370. Bride's table, 365. Bundles, carrying of, 29. Butter, avoidance of at formal dinner, 206, 585. Cabaret, supper at, 293. Calls. See: Visits. Carriages. See: Vehicles. Cars. Carving, 229-230. Cereal, how to eat, 573. Celebrities, afternoon teas in honor of, 168. Chic woman, 542. Chicken, how to eat, 584, 585. Christenings, chapter on, 380-386. Christmas presents, 467-468. Church, greetings in, 19-20;
leave-taking at, 20. Cigars. See: Smoking. Circus, etiquette at, 46. Clergy, how to introduce, 4-5. Colloquial language, 62. Colors, passing of the, 23. Companion, 138. Concert, clothes for, 547. Congressman, 486, 487. Consul, 488, 489. Contradiction, 50-51. Conspicuousness, avoidance of, 28. Conventions for the young girl, 292-294. Corn, how to eat, 573. Corn on the cob, when to eat, 582. Correct usage of words and phrases, 58-62. Correspondence. See: Letters. Country clothes, 548-550; 568, 570; 603. Country clubs, 516-517, 520. Court, presentation at, 609-610. Courtship, 299-301. Crests, 451. Cuff links, 144, 152, 567. Cup, use of, 573. Cut direct, 26-27. Cutting in at a dance, 269-270. Dating a letter, 453. Day dress, 555-556. Days at home, 82, 86-87. Death, notice of, 387, 390. Debts, 506, 509, 523. Dessert, 207-209, 573. Devices on stationery, 451-453. Dining-room, appointments of, 192-194. Dining-saloon etiquette, 509-10. Dinner coat, 42. Dishes, how to present, 206. Dishing, 235. Divorce, 507, 509. Divorced woman, name of, 459;
visiting card of, 78. Doctor, how to introduce, 5;
visiting cards of, 78. Double cards, 79. Dress. See: Clothes. Drinking, 573-574. Drinks. Duke, how to address, 608. Earl, how to address, 608. Eating difficult foods, 223, 582-585. Eggs, how to eat, 574-584. Elbows on the table, 585-586. Elevator, removal of gentleman's hat in, 22. Elopements, 301. English clothes, 553, 561-562. Envelopes, 450, 454. Escorts, 31-32, 594-595. Etiquette, scope of, 3. European travel, 604-616. Ex-President of the United States, how to introduce, 5. Fare, payment of, 31. Fashion, 541-543, 557-558. Finger bowl, 208-209, 585. Finger food, 582-585. Flower girls, 330, 358. Folding a note, 454. Footmen, house, 144-146. Foreign language, 610-612. Frock coat, 332, 566, 569. Full dress, 35, 42, 569. Funerals, chapter on, 387-409. Furniture, 132-135. Gentleman, The, 506-508. Girls. See: Young girl. Godparents, 380-382. Golf, 527.528;
invitation to, 128;
clubs, 517. Good-bys. See: Leave taking. Guests, distinguished, 11, 216. Handwriting, 448-449, 460. Hanging the bell, 390. "Hello" as a greeting, 19-20. Home, manners in the, 587-592. Hotels, 596-597. House suit, 565. House wedding, 373-375. Housekeeper, 140-141. Hunting clubs, 517. Ice cream as dessert, 207-208. "Introduce," when used in introductions, 4. Invalids, return visits of, 96;
visits to, 88, 93. Journeys of engaged couples, 310. Judge, how to introduce, 5;
visiting cards of, 78. King. See: Court; Royalty. Kissing, 96, 307, 362-363. Kitchen-maid, 147-148. Knife, 207;
use of, 574-575. Knight, how to address, 608. Lady traveling alone in Europe, 613-614. Lady's maid, 150, 425. Language, 58-64, 610-612. See also specific subjects, e.g. : Beginning a letter;
Condolence, letters of; Address on envelopes. Liquid food, 573-574. Little dinner, 228-229. Living alone by young girls or women, 289, 294. Love letters, 502-504. Management of servants, 155-159. Married couples. See: Husband and wife;
young couples. Meeting, at church, 19-20;
in the Street, 20. Menus. Menu cards, 210. Military officer, visiting card of, 78. Mourners, how to address, 399. Moving pictures, 40, 293. Musicale, 124. Names, 54, 76-78, 458-459, 508. Napkin ring, 204. Napkins, 220-221, 241, 444, 575. National anthem, 23. Neighbors, new, afternoon tea in honor of, 168. "Not at home," 84-86. Note of apology, 462-463. Nurse, 152-153. Office buildings, etiquette in, 22. Open air gatherings, 46. Orange blossoms at second marriage, 375. P.P.C. cards, 79. Packages, 29. Pall bearers, 391-392, 569. Paris clothes, 353, 539-561. Parlor maid, 148. Party calls, 81. Passing of colors, removal of hat at, 23. Payment, etiquette of, 31. Peas, how to eat, 573. Personal letters, 455. Persons of rank. See: Rank, persons of. Pew cards, 102-103, 356. Picnics, 34, 124, 128. Pits, management of, at table, 584. Place cards, 128, 210. Plates, 200, 202-204, 242. Politeness to servants, 153-154. Political clubs, 517. Politics, etiquette of, 530-539. Position in the community, 410;
chapter on, 65-72. Presentation at court, 609-610. "Present," when used in introductions, 4. Priest, 488-489. Private affairs, conversation about, 592. Private car, guests on, 439. Private secretary, 139. Pronunciation, 62-64. Punctuality, 46, 219-220. Pusher, nursery, 571.573. Rabbi, 488-489. Reading at table, 591. Ready-to-wear clothes, 557, 562. Receptions, 10, 119, 165, 168. Referring to husband or wife in conversation, 54. Regard for others, rules of, 34. Rehearsal of a wedding, 338-342. Riding clothes, 550-552. Salutations, 461;
chapter on, 22-27. Secretary, 138-140, 178. Self-introduction, 12, 602. Senator, 5, 214, 486-487. Serving table, 206-207. Shirt, 143, 334, 568. Shirt studs, 144, 152, 567. Shirt waist, 151, 549, 556. Shoes, 333, 549, 555, 558, 564, 566, 568. Shops, etiquette in, 33. Sickness. See: Invalids. Signature of a letter, 458-459. Silk hat, 564, 566. Silver, 198-199. Sitting up with the deceased, 393. Sitting down at the table, 577. Skirt, 151, 548, 549, 552, 556, 558. Slang, 62. Slippers, 549, 555. Smart society, 2. Social position. See: Position in the community. Society, best,
chapter on, 1-3;
definition of, 3;
smart, 2. Speech, 64. Speaking to a lady, 22-23. Spoon, 197;
Use of, 571, 573. Sports clothes, 548. Sports clubs, 517. Stag dinner, 230. Stand-up luncheons, 248, 249. Steamer etiquette, 598-603. Stores, etiquette in, 27, 33. Story telling, 50. Street, chapter on the, 28-34. Street car etiquette, 23-24. Street clothes, 548. Subscription dances, 272-275. Summer dress, 549, 556. Superscription in letters, 459, 460. Tail Coat, 35. See: Leave taking. Tea gown, 547. Tennis, 128. Thanks, cards of, 474;
letters of, 463, 475. Third person in correspondence, 478-479. Topics of conversation, 51, 55-56. Train card, 105. Train of a dress, 547. Trains, railway, 31, 593-596, 615. Traveling, chapter on, 593-616. See also specific subjects, e.g. : Young girl, traveling of. Traveling clothes, 351, 559. Trousseau, 323-327, 332-333. Tuxedo, 42, 564-565, 569, 603. Uniforms of servants, 148-150. Vegetables, how to eat, 575. See also specific subjects,
e.g. : Engaged couples, visits of. Visiting cards. See: Cards. Vulgar woman, the, 544.345. Watch chain, 567. Wealth, display of, 506. White blossoms at second marriage, 375. Widow, 77, 107, 375, 402. Wife. See: Husband and wife. Words and phrases, correct usage of, 58-62. Writing paper, 449-453. Yacht, guests on, 439. Young couples, 71, 471. Young person, introduction of to older, 4;
greetings of to older, 21. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Etiquette, by Emily Post