Novices in lobster sometimes eat it simply with salt, or with vinegar only, or with black pepper. This betrays great ignorance of the article. To prepare it according to the usual custom,—cut up, very small, the pieces of lobster, and on another plate make the dressing. First, mash together some hard-boiled yolk of egg, and some of the red coral of the lobster, with a little salt and cayenne. Mix in, with a fork, mustard to your taste; and then a liberal allowance of salad-oil, finishing with vinegar. Transfer the bits of lobster to the plate that has the dressing, and combine the whole with a fork. Lettuce salad is dressed in the same manner.

At a public table, a lady should never volunteer to dress salad for others of the company. Neither should she cut up a pie, and help it round. These things ought only to be done by a gentleman, or a servant.

If a gentleman with whom you are acquainted has dressed a salad, and offers the plate to you, take what you want, and immediately return to him the remainder; and do not pass it on to persons in your vicinity. It is his privilege, and not yours to offer it to others, as he has had the trouble of dressing it. And it is just that he should have a portion of it for himself, which will not be the case if you officiously hand it about to people around you. Leave it to him to dispose of as he pleases.

It was formerly considered ill-manners to refuse to take wine with a gentleman. Now that the fortunate increase of temperance has induced so many persons to abjure, entirely, the use of all liquors, it is no longer an offence to decline these invitations. If you have no conscientious scruples, and if you are acquainted with the gentleman, or have been introduced to him, (not else,) you may comply with his civility, and when both glasses are filled, look at him, bow your head, and taste the wine. If you are placed between a lady and gentleman who are taking wine together, lean back a little that they may see each other's faces. It is not customary, in America, for a lady to empty her glass,—or indeed, at a hotel, or boarding-house, to take wine with the same gentleman after the first day. Next time he asks, politely refuse, simply desiring him to excuse you. If he is a true gentleman, he will regard your refusal in its proper light, and not persist. We have often, at a public table, regretted to see ladies in the daily practice of taking wine with the same gentleman as often as invited. This "daily practice" is improper, indelicate, and we will say mean—for wine is expensive, and no lady should every day place herself under the same obligation to the same gentleman, even for a single glass. He will not respect her the more for doing so. On no consideration let any lady be persuaded to take two glasses of champagne. It is more than the head of an American female can bear. And she may rest assured that (though unconscious of it herself) all present will find her cheeks flushing, her eyes twinkling, her tongue unusually voluble, her talk loud and silly, and her laugh incessant. Champagne is very insidious; and two glasses may throw her into this pitiable condition.

If a stranger whom you do not know, and to whom you have had no introduction, takes the liberty of asking you to drink wine with him, refuse at once, positively and coldly, to prove that you consider it an unwarrantable freedom. And so it is.

If you are helped to any thing whose appearance you do not like, or in which you are disappointed when you taste it, you, of course, at a hotel table, are not obliged to eat it. Merely leave it on your plate, without audibly giving the reason; and then, in a low voice, desire the waiter to bring you something else. It is well, while at table, to avoid any discussion of the demerits of the dishes. On the other hand, you may praise them as much as you please.

In refusing to be helped to any particular thing, never give as a reason that "you are afraid of it," or "that it will disagree with you." It is sufficient simply to refuse; and then no one has a right to ask why? While at table, all allusions to dyspepsia, indigestion, or any other disorders of the stomach, are vulgar and disgusting. The word "stomach" should never be uttered at any table, or indeed anywhere else, except to your physician, or in a private conversation with a female friend interested in your health. It is a disagreeable word, (and so are all its associations,) and should never be mentioned in public to "ears polite." Also, make no remarks on what is eaten by persons near you, (except they are children, and under your own care,) such as its being unwholesome, indigestible, feverish, or in any way improper. It is no business of yours; and besides, you are not to judge of others by yourself. No two constitutions are alike, and what is very bad for you, may be perfectly innoxious to others. If persons are with you in whom you are much interested, and over whom you have influence, and they seem inclined to eat what is bad for them, refrain from checking them in presence of strangers. Above all, do not open your eyes, and hold up your hands, and exclaim against their folly, and want of self-control, and predict their certain sufferings from that cause. But if you must remonstrate, wait till you have quitted the table, and find yourself alone with the delinquent.

Never, while at table, (whether in public or private,) allow yourself to talk on painful or disgusting subjects. Avoid all discussions of sicknesses, sores, surgical operations, dreadful accidents, shocking cruelties, or horrible punishments. A love of such topics, evinces a coarse and unfeminine mind. It is rude in gentlemen at any time to introduce them before ladies; and a polished man never does so. The conversation at table should be as cheerful and pleasant as possible. Political and sectarian controversies ought to have no place there. Shakspeare truly says, "Unquiet meals make ill digestion."

Avoid the discussion at table of private affairs; either your own, or those of other people. Remember that "servants have ears," and frequently much more quickness of comprehension and retentiveness of memory than is generally supposed. So have children.

Abstain from picking your teeth at table. Notwithstanding that custom has allowed this practice in Europe, (even in fashionable society,) it is still a very disagreeable one, and to delicate spectators absolutely sickening to behold. Delay it till you are alone, and till you can indulge in it without witnesses. We know that it is quite possible to go on through a long life, and to have clean teeth, without ever once having been seen to pick them; and yet those teeth are really picked after every meal.