Never fail to rise when the ladies are leaving the table, and to remain standing somehow, no matter how unsteadily, until the last petticoat has disappeared. Then, your duty having been performed, you can roll under the table, if you want to, or see-saw back to your anchorage, and see if you can hold any more wine.
Never drink too much wine. True, there are a variety of opinions as to how much is too much; but be prudent, be resolved, never make an exhibition of yourself, at least try to knock off before being paralyzed, and be happy.
Never, however, yield to the jocular propensities of your brother guests. Should they prop you in a corner of the room, with your hair drawn over your eyes and a lamplighter in your mouth for a cigar, and then jocosely vociferate “Speech! speech!” heroically reach for the nearest bottle, back with your head, and guzzle away. A philosopher, a real gentleman, will never be laughed down, sneered under, or rubbed out.
Never, if called on for a speech in a complimentary way, however, make a rostrum of the table at which you have dined. Rather essay your own chair, the window-sill, or even the mantel-piece.
Never fail in courtesy, even when grossly intoxicated. Apologize, even if you have slumbered on your neighbor’s shoulder, and murmur your excuses even while disappearing under the table. An exponent of high breeding never forgets to be a gentleman under the most adverse circumstances.
Never whistle, sing ditties, or jeer irrelevantly while another guest is responding to a popular toast. You surely should not wish to monopolize the entire oratorical effects of the occasion; and, moreover, boorish interruption is always in equivocal form.
V.
While Walking.
Never fail to maintain a firm but easy attitude. The willow, not the lightning-rod, will afford you the best suggestions.