CHAPTER XIX
THE VISITED
IT has been said,—and with an unfortunate amount of truth, that the gracious old-fashioned art of hospitality is dying out. Those who keep open house from year’s end to year’s end, from whose doors the latch-string floats in the breeze, ready for the fingers of any friend who will grasp it, are few.
The “entertaining” that is done now does not compensate us for the loss of what may be called the “latch-string-out” custom of the days gone by. Luncheons, teas, dinners, card-parties, receptions and the like, fill the days with engagements and hold our eyes waking until the morning hours, but this is a kind of wholesale hospitality as it were, and done by contract. Such affairs remind one ludicrously of the irreligious and historic farmer-boy who, reminiscent of his father’s long-winded “grace before meat,” suggested when they salted the pork for the winter that he “say grace over the whole barrel” and pay off a disagreeable obligation all at one time.
SERVANTS AND GUESTS
Perhaps if our hostess were frank she would acknowledge a similar desire when she sends out cards by the hundreds and fills her drawing-rooms to overflowing with guests, scores of whom care to come even less than she cares to have them. But there seems to be a credit and debit account kept, and once in so often it is incumbent on the society woman to “give something.” Florists and caterers are called to her aid, and, with waiters and assistants hired for the occasion, take the work of preparation for the entertainment off my lady’s hands.
In speaking of hospitality in this chapter, we refer especially to the entertaining of a visitor for one, or many days in the home. Not long ago we made a point of asking several housekeepers why they did not invite friends to visit them. Three out of four interviewed on the subject agreed that the servants were the main drawback. The fourth woman, who was in moderate circumstances, confessed that she did not want guests unless she could “entertain them handsomely.”