Slapping a gentleman with your handkerchief, or tapping him with your fan. Allowing him to take a ring off your finger, to look at it. Permitting him to unclasp your bracelet, or, still worse, to inspect your brooch. When these ornaments are to be shown to another person always take them off for the purpose.
Introductions.
Where the company is large, the ladies of the house should have tact enough to avoid introducing and placing together persons who cannot possibly assimilate, or take pleasure in each other's society. The dull and the silly will be far happier with their compeers. To a woman of talent and a good conversationalist it is a cruelty to put her unnecessarily in contact with stupid or unmeaning people. She is wasted and thrown away upon such as are neither amusing nor amusable. Neither is it well to bring together a gay, lively woman of the world, and a solemn, serious, repulsive dame, who is a contemner of the world and all its enjoyments.
Avoid giving invitations to bores. They will come without.
We saw no less a person than Charles Dickens compelled at a large party to devote the whole evening to writing autographs for a multitude of young ladies—many of whom, not satisfied with obtaining one of his signatures for themselves, desired half a dozen others for "absent friends." All conversation ceased with the first requisition for an autograph. He had no chance of saying anything. We were a little ashamed of our fair townswomen.
DINNERS THAT CONSISTED OF BOOKS.
Some Authors Have Been Compelled to Eat Their Printed Volumes—Tartars Tried to
Acquire Knowledge That Way.
With the exception of minerals it is difficult for one to find on the earth's surface substances that do not tempt the appetite of some sort of animal. The list of queer articles of diet includes the earth, which is munched with satisfaction by the clay-eater, and the walrus hide, which the Eskimo relishes as much as does John Bull his joint of beef.
It is not generally known, however, that men, as well as mice and book-worms, have eaten dinners that have consisted only of books. This tendency has been described as "bibliophagia," though the word has not yet gained scholarly approval. An interesting account of some of these extraordinary meals appeared in a recent issue of the Scientific American, and is as follows: