When dishing a sirloin, place it on the platter with the tenderloin underneath, and carve thin slices lengthwise from the side next to you; then turn the piece over, and carve the tenderloin carefully, cutting across the piece, serving equally from both parts.
In carving a fore-quarter of lamb, divide the shoulders from the ribs; then separate the ribs. The fore-quarter of pork and mutton should be carved in the same way. When carving the hind-quarter, cut neatly between the ribs to the joint, which must then be carefully separated, so as not to bring a jagged, mangled piece to the plate. To do this you will be obliged to charge your butcher particularly to crack the joints, not only of the hind, but also of the fore-quarter. He has the implements to do it more expertly than you can, and unless this is well done, it is quite impossible to carve the ribs neatly. Serve a bit of the kidney and the fat to each guest if agreeable. Some do not relish the kidney, and could eat with more relish if it were not on their plate, and for this reason it is safest to ask each one before helping.
In carving a fillet of veal, begin at the top to cut, serving a portion of the dressing to each guest. When carving the breast of veal, cut the upper portion of the brisket, or that part of the breast that lies next to the ribs, separately, and in helping, inquire what part is preferred.
Some like to send a young pig whole to the table, with a lemon or bunch of parsley put into the mouth. We think it much nicer to take off the head, and cut the pig in halves or quarters, before sending it to the table, and then carve it. It would be very unpleasant to many to see such a revolting caricature of a live pig brought before them. But each one must judge for himself.
LI.
PARENTAL EXAMPLE.
PARENTS may give “line upon line and precept upon precept,” in their assiduous watchfulness over the manners and morals of their children, yet, if they do not constantly bear in mind that example has more influence over the young than precept, their efforts will be of little avail. If you reprove a child for careless usage of books, show them how they are injured and defaced, by turning down corners, scribbling on the margin, or throwing them down on the face, how much good will such lectures do, if, when he enters your library, or comes where you have been reading, the child sees your books tossed about, the bindings strained, and the corners in a most undesirable condition?
You endeavor to inculcate a habit of neatness in your daughter; you insist that when she returns from a walk or ride she shall smooth out her bonnet-strings, brush the dust from it, and put it at once in the bonnet-box; you tell her to fold her shawl neatly, hang up her sack, pull the fingers of her gloves straight, fold them up and lay them in their appropriate place; and this you request her to do, not once or twice, but habitually, not only because it is tidy, but also a great saving of time and garments in the course of a year. But if you come in, and toss your street garments about in the most careless manner, how much good, think you, will all your words of instruction have accomplished? You may enforce obedience, but compulsory habits are not usually abiding; and, when old enough to cast off restraint, it will be, not so much the words you have spoken, as the things your child has seen you do habitually, which will influence and guide her womanhood.
You resolutely object to your children using low phrases,—what is termed slang; but if your own conversation is largely interspersed with foolish or needless ejaculations, fight against it as you may, you will find it impossible to prevent them from copying your mode of speaking, and it will be very strange if they do not carry it to a much greater extent than you have done.
Nowhere is this force of example so strikingly exemplified as at the table. It is always disagreeable to see a child sitting with its arms on the table, or resting its elbow there while carrying the food to its mouth. There is some excuse for the little ones, as their short limbs grow weary, and the position, though a very awkward one, seems to them a rest from the restraint of the table; and no doubt it is so. It is exceedingly annoying to see children filling their mouths too full, and then washing the food down by drinking, before the food is half masticated. If a child reaches over another’s plate for some article of food, instead of politely asking for it, who can help feeling disturbed by the rudeness? It is disagreeable to all present to see any one stand upon the round of the chair, or on the floor, and spring after a piece of bread or meat, or push a dish across the table instead of handing it. You shrink from the child who helps itself to butter with the knife from its own plate. All this is annoying in children, but it is intolerable when practiced by the parents. They are as much disgusted as any “lookers-on” can be, when they notice such rude, ill-mannered actions in their children; but while they severely blame these young things, they forget that these are always watching and imitating their parents’ faults.
We have seen those who were in most respects truly refined, whose great anxiety seemed to be to guard their children from any contact with rude associates, and to teach them as much refinement of manner and character as was possible; and in most things we have observed that such parents most scrupulously and conscientiously conformed to their own instructions; but when we have had a seat at their table, we have sometimes been amazed to observe that they felt themselves exonerated from the observance of the simplest forms of table etiquette, yet held their children in strict bondage to such rules, and made the hours spent at what should be the social, cheerful board very uncomfortable by continued reproofs.