You should then take out the dice and “shoot.” Your grandmother will look at your “throw” and say, “Oh, boy! He fives—he fives—a three and a two—never make a five—come on, you baby seven!” You should then take up the dice again and shake them in your right hand while your grandmother chants, “A four and a three—a four and a two—dicety dice, and an old black joe—come on, you SEVEN!” You should then again “shoot.” This time, as you have thrown a six and a one, your grandmother will then exclaim, “He sevens—the boy sevens—come on to grandmother, dice—talk to the nice old lady—Phoebe for grandma, dice, for grandpa needs a new pair of shoes—shoot a dime!”
She will then “throw,” and so the game will go on until the old lady evidences a desire to stop, or, possibly, until either you or she are “cleaned out.” In this latter case, however, it would be a customary act of courtesy towards an older person for you to offer to shoot your grandmother for her shawl or her side combs, thus giving her several more chances to win back the money she has lost. It should be recommended that young men never make a mistake in going a little out of their way on occasion to make life more pleasant and agreeable for the aged.
CORRECT BEHAVIOR ON A PICNIC
There often comes a time in the life of the members of “society” when they grow a little weary of the ceaseless round of teas, balls and dinners, and for such I would not hesitate to recommend a “picnic.”
A day spent in the “open,” with the blue sky over one’s head, is indeed a splendid tonic for jaded nerves. But one should not make the mistake of thinking that because he (or she) is “roughing it” for a day, he (or she) can therefore leave behind his (or her) “manners,” for such is not the case. There is a distinct etiquette for picnics, and any one who disregards this fact is apt to find to his (or her) sorrow that the “shoe” in this case is decidedly “on the other foot.”
A young man, for example, is often asked by a young lady to accompany her on a “family picnic.” To this invitation he should, after some consideration, reply either “Yes” or “No,” and if the former, he should present himself at the young lady’s house promptly on the day set for the affair (usually Sunday).
A “family picnic” generally consists of a Buick, a father, a mother, a daughter, a small son, beef loaf, lettuce sandwiches, a young man (you), two blow-outs, one spare tire, and Aunt Florence.
The father drives with his small boy beside him; in the rear are the mother, the daughter, Aunt Florence, the thermos bottles, the lunch baskets and you. As you take your seat you must remember that it is a distinct evidence of bad breeding to show in any way that you are conscious of the fact that the car has been standing for the last hour and forty-four minutes in the hot July sun.
“We’re off!” cries father, pressing his foot on the self-starting pedal. Thirty minutes later you roll away from the curb and the picnic has begun. The intervening time has, of course, been profitably spent by you in walking to the nearest garage for two new sparkplugs.
It should be your duty, as guest, to see that the conversation in the rear seat is not allowed to lag. “It’s a great day,” you remark, as the car speeds along. “I think it’s going to rain,” replies Aunt Florence. “Not too fast, Will!” says mother. “Mother!” says the daughter.