Alice Ben Bolt regrets that, owing to an ulcerated tooth in the
left side of her mouth, and severe neuralgic pains all up and
down her left side, she will be unable to accept the kind
invitation of Major General and Mrs. Hannafield for Wednesday
evening at half after eight, at “The Bananas.”
This is not, however, always necessary.
This is an admirable picture with which to test the “kiddies’” knowledge of good manners at a dinner table. It will also keep them occupied as a puzzle picture since the “faux pas” illustrated herewith will probably not be apparent to the little ones except after careful examination. If, however, they have been conscientiously trained it will not be long, before the brighter ones discover that the spoon has been incorrectly left standing in the cup, that the coffee is being served from the right instead of the left side, and that the lettering of the motto on the wall too nearly resembles the German style to be quite “au fait” in the home of any red-blooded American citizen.
Dessert has been reached and the gentleman in the picture is perspiring freely—in itself a deplorable breach of etiquette. He has been attempting all evening to engage the ladies on either side of him in conversation on babies, Camp’s Reducing Exercises, politics, Camp’s Developing Exercises, music or Charlie Chaplin, only to be rebuffed by a haughty chin on the one hand and a cold shoulder on the other. If he had taken the precaution to consult Stewart’s Lightning Calculator of Dinner Table Conversation (one of the many aids to social success to be found in PERFECT BEHAVIOR) he would have realized the bad taste characterizing his choice of topics and would not have made himself a marked figure at this well-appointed dinner table.
CHAPTER NINE:
THE ETIQUETTE OF DINNERS AND BALLS
FORMAL DINNERS IN AMERICA
Eating is an extremely old custom and has been practiced by the better classes of society almost without interruption from earliest times. And “society,” like the potentate of the parable whose touch transformed every object into gold, has embellished and adorned the all-too-common habit of eating, until there has been evolved throughout the ages that most charming and exquisite product of human culture—the formal dinner party. The gentleman of today who delightedly dons his dress suit and escorts into a ten-course dinner some lady mountain climber or other celebrity, is probably little aware of what he owes to his forefathers for having so painstakingly devised for him such a pleasant method of spending his time.
But “before one runs, one must learn to walk”—and the joys of the dinner-party are not to be partaken of without a long preliminary course of training, as many a young man has learned to his sorrow when he discovered that his inelegant use of knife and fork was causing humorous comment up and down the “board” and was drawing upon himself the haughty glances of an outraged hostess. The first requisite of success in dining out is the possession of a complete set of correct table manners—and these, like anything worth while, can be achieved only by patient study and daily practise.