A pretty notion is to introduce some unexpected feature into the high tea which will appeal to the imaginations of the guests as well as to their palates. A little ingenuity will suggest some novelty of this sort. The literary salad, which has become well known in certain localities, may yet be unfamiliar in others. This is made by cutting a number of slips of paper, writing on each one a prose or poetic quotation, and attaching each strip to a leaf of pale green tissue-paper, cut and crimped into the fashion of a lettuce leaf. Different shades of the paper should be selected, so that the tints may blend as they do in a veritable head of lettuce. These leaves are then arranged in a bowl, and at some point in the meal, usually just before the dessert, the bowl is passed, and each guest draws out at random two or three of the leaves. The endeavor then is to guess the authorship of the different quotations, and a prize is usually offered to the one who guesses the greatest number correctly. The prize may be the bowl or dish in which the salad is served. Or, instead of quotations, conundrums may be written on the slips, and puzzling out their answers usually affords a great deal of amusement.
A bright young hostess, who was always bubbling over with new and charming ideas, hit upon the clever one of having her guests' characters told by chirosophy. She obtained a specimen of the handwriting of each of those whom she had invited, and sent the samples to a specialist, who deduced from each an estimate of the characteristics of its writer. The verdicts thus obtained were enclosed each in an envelope bearing the name of the person whose peculiar bias was therein described. The envelopes were then bound with ribbons, tied, and sealed. One was laid at the place of each guest at the table, and after providing a fruitful source of wonder and comment during the early part of the meal, the seals were broken when the fruit was passed. Each read aloud the statement contained in her envelope, and it was curious and amusing to observe with what accuracy many idiosyncrasies and singular traits of disposition had been indicated.
SOME HINTS ABOUT SUPPER
IN these days of theatre and opera parties the matter of late suppers assumes more importance than it possessed in the time when these amusements were less universally popular. Upon the occasions when a young man escorted his "best girl" to the play or the concert, he took her afterwards, as a natural sequence, to a restaurant, where they partook of some such light refreshment as ice-cream, cake, and coffee, this style of supper being varied sometimes by the introduction of oysters in one form or another. But when a company of young people go to the theatre nowadays, and return afterwards to the house of their chaperon or of some other member of the party, they are usually hungry with the healthy appetite that it is no longer the foolish fashion to conceal.
The members of whist clubs, of literary or dramatic circles, of small dancing classes, of amateur orchestras, and of a variety of other similar social organizations, feel a like desire for food after an evening's busy occupation, while even in the family the sensible custom is gaining ground of eating something not long before retiring—a something which, if not equal in extent and weight to the late supper of our English cousins, is yet more substantial than the caramels and chocolate creams with which school-girls, and often their seniors, solace the hunger that is apt to attack them about bedtime.
When one gives only an occasional reception or evening party it is taken for granted that the refreshments will be rather elaborate in their nature. But when the meetings of a club of any sort are of weekly, fortnightly, or even monthly recurrence, the expense becomes an object. There may be some members of the body to whom the disbursement of a few dollars more or less is a matter of trivial moment, but there is very rarely any club of this sort where there are not some who would feel seriously the cost of entertaining in a showy fashion. For the sake of these weak brothers or sisters, a certain amount of consideration should be shown, and no display made by the wealthy ones which would throw into the shade the simpler entertainment which is all many can afford to offer. A supper need not be poor because it is not costly, but it must make up in daintiness and unusualness for what it lacks in price.
A chief object to be sought in planning these suppers is to select something which can be made ready beforehand, so that the hostess can enjoy her evening without being handicapped in her pleasure-seeking by the thought of possible complications arising in the preparation of the supper which may require her absence from the room. Unless she has a practised cook, she should not attempt dishes of oysters, or of anything of the kind which demands careful supervision at the last moment. Instead of this, she should content herself with chocolate or coffee and bouillon for the hot items of her menu, and for the rest take her choice from among the many salads and other cold dishes which are generally popular. Cold chicken or duck, jellied tongue or fowl, or a really fine galantine, or a dish of salad, and rolls or sandwiches at discretion, may be chosen. For sweets, ices are always excellent if they can be procured; or if not, there are jellies, which, with whipped cream and light cakes, coffee, or chocolate, are quite enough—indeed, more than enough in many cases. Often sandwiches, cake, and coffee are sufficient; but let the sandwiches be of something besides ham and tongue, the cake be light and delicious, and the coffee strong and clear, and served with whipped cream.