TABLE ETIQUETTE.
IT is impossible for a lady or gentleman to act with perfect ease and graceful manner at table when in company, at a hotel or any public place, unless they habitually pay attention to those minor points of etiquette, which form so distinctive a mark of perfectly good breeding. Habitual neglect of the courtesies and etiquette of the table will make them appear awkward restraints upon occasions when they are important. If the father or mother of a family accustom the children, by example as well as precept, to be attentive and polite to each other at every meal, they need never fear that they will shame them by rudeness or awkwardness when they go abroad.
Even when a person habitually eats alone, it is better to do so gracefully and with attention to the rules of etiquette, that habits of awkwardness may not be formed, which it will be difficult to shake off when in company.
To make noises when eating, sucking soup with a gurgling sound, chewing meat noisily, swallowing as if with an effort, smacking the lips, or breathing heavily while masticating food, are all marks of low breeding.
It is a bad habit to put large pieces of food into the mouth. If you are addressed suddenly with your mouth so filled, you are obliged to make an awkward pause before answering, or to run the risk of choking by swallowing the great mouthful too hastily.
Never open the napkin entirely, but let it lie on the lap, partly folded.
Sit neither very near nor very far from the table.
It is rude to move your arms at table so as to incommode those on either side of you.
Ladies should, after seating themselves, endeavor to draw their skirts into a space that will not crowd those seated beside them.
To lean back in the chair is rude, and surely no gentleman would ever be guilty of tipping his chair at table. Sit erect, not stiffly, but in an easy position.
Bread must always be broken, never cut, and certainly never bitten.
If a plate is sent to you filled with the food you have selected, keep it, as others may not have the same choice; if the plate contain one dish, such as pie or pudding, you may pass it on to those beside you, and wait till others above you are served before reserving a plate for yourself.
To eat very fast is inelegant; to eat very slowly bears an air of affectation. Try to preserve the happy medium.
It is a good plan to accustom yourself to eat with the left hand, and thus avoid shifting your knife and fork from one hand to the other.
A gentleman will always see that ladies are served before eating himself,
Avoid making any noise on your plate with your knife and fork.
It is against all rules of etiquette to soak up gravy with bread, to scrape up sauce with a spoon, or to take up bones with the fingers.
Never cross the knife and fork on a plate until you have finished eating. Never hold your knife and fork erect in your hands at each side of your plate, when conversing at the table.
Never ask for a second helping. It is the duty of those at the head and foot of the table to offer it.
To blow soup to cool it, or to pour tea or coffee into a saucer for the same purpose, are acts of awkwardness never seen in polite society. Wait until they are cool enough to be pleasant.
Use the salt-spoon, butter-knife, and sugar-tongs even when you are alone.
If you want to cough, sneeze, or blow your nose, leave the table. If you have not time, turn away your head, and lean back in your chair.
To pass a plate with a knife or fork upon it, or a cup with a spoon in it, are acts of rudeness. Put your spoon in the saucer, and your knife and fork on the table, until you are served.
Never hurry away from the table as soon as you finish eating, if others remain to converse. If you are obliged to leave before a meal is finished or immediately after, ask to be excused for so doing, and apologize for the necessity.
Never mention at the table any subject that is likely to disgust others. It is a piece of rudeness only too common, and is to be severely censured. Many who are utterly without affectation are really sensitive on such points, and their meal and comfort are both spoiled if disgusting associations are suggested at table.
At home, if you use a napkin-ring, fold your napkin and replace it in the ring when you have done with it. If you are dining out, never fold your napkin, but place it beside your plate.
None but a clown would use the table-cloth for a napkin, pick his teeth with his fork, put his fingers in his plate, or wipe his face with his napkin.
If you are unfortunate enough to find anything disgusting in your food—a hair in the soup, a coal in the bread, a worm in the fruit, or a fly in your coffee—do not loudly exclaim, or disturb the appetite of others by mention of your mishap. Remove the disgusting object quietly, or change your cup or plate without remark.
The French poet, Delille, tells of an interview between himself and Marmoutel, which rather humorously points out how table etiquette may change.
Delille and Marmoutel were dining together, in the month of April, 1786; and the conversation happened to turn upon dinner table customs. Marmoutel observed how many little things a well-bred man was obliged to know, if he would avoid being ridiculous at the table of his friends.
"They are, indeed, innumerable," said Delille, "and the most annoying fact of all is, that not all the wit and good sense in the world can help one to divine them untaught. A little while ago, for instance, the Abbe Cosson, who is Professor of Literature at College Mazarin, was describing to me a grand dinner to which he had been invited at Versailles, and to which he had sat down in the company of peers, princes, and marshals of France.
"'I'll wager now,' said I,'that you committed a hundred blunders in the etiquette of the table.'
"'How so?' replied the Abbe, somewhat nettled. 'What blunders could I make? It seems to me that I did precisely as others did.'
"'And I, on the contrary, would stake my life that you did nothing as others did. But let us begin at the beginning, and see which is right. In the first place, there was your table napkin—what did you do with that when you sat down to table?'
"'What did I do with my table napkin? Why, I did like the rest of the guests: I shook it out of the folds, spread it before me, and fastened one corner to my button-hole.'
"'Very well, mon cher, you were the only person who did so. No one shakes, spreads, and fastens a table napkin in that manner. You should have only laid it across your knees. What soup had you?'
"'Turtle.'
"'And how did you eat it ?'
"'Like every one else, I suppose. I took my spoon in one hand and my fork in the other.'
"'Your fork? Good heavens! None but a savage eats soup with a fork. But go on. What did you take next?'
"'A boiled egg.'
"'Good. And what did you do with the shell?'
"'Not eat it, certainly. I left it, of course, in the egg-cup.'
"'Without breaking it through with your spoon?'
"'Without breaking it.'
"'Then, my dear fellow, permit me to tell you that no one eats an egg without breaking the shell, and leaving the spoon standing in it. And after your egg?'
"'I asked for some boulli.'
"'For boulli!' It is a term that no one uses. You should have asked for beef; never for bouilli. Well, and after the bouilli?'
"'I asked the Abbe de Badenvillais for some fowl.'
"'Wretched man! Fowl indeed! You should have asked for chicken or capon. The word "fowl" is never heard out of the kitchen. But all this applies only to what you ate; tell me something of what you drank, and how you asked for it.'
"'I asked for Champagne and Bordeaux from those who had the bottles before them.'
"'Know, then, my good friend, that only a waiter, who has no time or breath to spare, asks for Champagne or Bordeaux. A gentleman asks for Vin de Champagne and Vin de Bordeaux. But now inform me how you ate your bread.'
"'Undoubtedly like all the rest of the world: I cut it up into small square pieces with my knife.'
"'Then let me tell you that no one cuts bread; you should always break it. Let us go on to the coffee. How did you drink yours?'
"'Pshaw! At least, I could make no mistake in that. It was boiling hot; so I poured it, a little at a time, in the saucer, and drank it as it cooled.'
"'Eh bien! Then you assuredly acted as no other gentleman in the room. Nothing can be more vulgar than to pour tea or coffee into a saucer. You should have waited till it cooled, and then have drunk it from the cup. And now you see, my dear cousin, that so far from doing precisely as the others did, you acted in no one respect according to the laws prescribed by etiquette.'"