<h2><SPAN name="DINNER-PARTIES" id="DINNER-PARTIES"></SPAN><i>DINNER-PARTIES.</i></h2>
<div class="sidenote">Invitation.</div>
<p class="nind">“<span class="smcap">Mrs</span>. X. requests the pleasure of Mr. L.’s company at dinner on
Thursday, the 16th of February, at eight o’clock.”</p>
<div class="sidenote">Acceptance.</div>
<p>“Mr. L. accepts with pleasure Mrs. X.’s kind invitation to dinner on
Thursday, the 16th of February.”</p>
<div class="sidenote">Address of the hostess.</div>
<p>These are the preliminaries; the lady’s address being on the sheet of
paper or card on which her invitation has been written.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The usual interval.</div>
<p>Three weeks’ notice is usual, but sometimes, in the season, when many
parties are going on, invitations are sent out four, five, or six weeks
beforehand, in order to secure the guests. In the case of “lions” even
longer invitations have been given; but as one of the first principles
of good breeding is never to “corner” anybody, it is scarcely fair to
invite those who are in much request without giving them the option of
refusal.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Unfairly long invitations.</div>
<p>An invitation of seven or<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_056" id="page_056"></SPAN>{56}</span> eight weeks’ length scarcely allows one to
plead a pre-engagement, and often defeats the eager hostess’s own end by
inducing the “lion” to accept without any intention of being present,
writing later on to “renage,” to use a good old whist term.</p>
<p>But as our young man is scarcely yet a “lion,” and probably not
over-burdened with engagements for dinner or any other social function,
we may imagine him accepting with a free mind.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Breaking the engagement.</div>
<p>Should anything intervene to prevent him carrying out his engagement, he
is in duty bound to let his hostess know as early as possible that he
cannot be present at her dinner-party. This is more especially and
particularly necessary with dinners, though it holds good with regard to
all invitations.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Peculiar obligation of the diner-out.</div>
<p>But with dinner there is a peculiar obligation laid upon the guests. The
choice and arrangement of them involves care on the part of the
dinner-giver, more so than in the case of any other meal. In fact,
dinner stands alone as an institution sacred to the highest rites of
hospitality. To be invited is an honour to the young man who is just
beginning his social life. To absent himself would be a gross rudeness,
unless he could plead circumstances of a pressing nature. It is
considered a great infraction of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_057" id="page_057"></SPAN>{57}</span> good manners to wire on the very day
of the party that one cannot dine as arranged, unless something has
occurred to justify such conduct.</p>
<div class="sidenote">On declining at the last moment.</div>
<p>The hostess can with difficulty find a substitute at short notice, and
the whole plan of her table is destroyed by the absence of one person.
There are few people who would not feel offended at being invited to
fill a gap of the kind, and this is what makes it so extremely
discourteous to disappoint at the last moment, as it were.</p>
<div class="sidenote">A “fill-up” invitation.</div>
<p>The unfortunate hostess thinks, “Is there any one good-natured enough to
come and fill the vacant place?” Sometimes this is the <i>raison d’être</i>
of a young man’s first invitation. Let him accept it by all means, even
though he is perfectly aware that he was not his entertainer’s first
choice.</p>
<div class="sidenote">One’s first dinner-party.</div>
<p>Many a young man feels nervous about his first dinner-party. There are a
few puzzling things that trouble him in prospect. He wonders if he
should wear gloves, as ladies do, taking them off at the dinner-table.
Let me set his mind at rest on this small point, at once.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Gloves not worn by men.</div>
<p>He need not wear gloves. In fact, he must not. Another little matter to
be remembered is that a quarter of an hour’s grace is always understood
in dinner invitations. Should the hour<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_058" id="page_058"></SPAN>{58}</span> indicated be 8 o’clock, then
care must be taken to time the arrival at five or ten minutes past the
hour.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Punctuality imperative.</div>
<p>But it is better to be too early than too late. A want of punctuality at
this meal is unpardonable. It is the very height of rudeness, annoying
to the host and hostess, displeasing to the guests, and regarded as
outrageous by the cook.</p>
<div class="sidenote">One’s first duty to one’s hostess.</div>
<p>When our young man is shown into the drawing-room, he at once goes up to
his hostess, no matter whether there is any one he knows nearer to the
door than the lady of the house. This is always a fixed rule, whether it
be on the occasion of a call or visit, or on having been invited to a
party of any kind. When he has been greeted by his hostess he looks
round the room to see if there is anyone present whom he knows.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Then acquaintances.</div>
<p>If so, he goes up to the ladies first, if there are any of his
acquaintance present, and afterwards greets the gentlemen. His host will
probably have shaken hands with him immediately after his wife has done
so.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Introduction to partner.</div>
<p>He will then be told what lady he is to take down to dinner, and be
introduced to her, if he does not already know her. He must bow, not
shake hands, and make small talk for her during the interval between his
introduction and the announcement of dinner.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_059" id="page_059"></SPAN>{59}</span></p>
<div class="sidenote">Making small talk.</div>
<p>Here is his first real difficulty. To converse with a perfect stranger
is always one of the initial social accomplishments to be learned, and
it is not at all an easy thing at first. It needs practice.</p>
<div class="sidenote">If possible, avoid talking about the weather.</div>
<p>Ninety men out of every hundred offer a remark upon the weather; but
unless there has been something very extraordinary going on in the
meteorological line, it is better to avoid this subject if possible. A
girl at Ascot said to me one lovely day, “That’s the eighth man who has
informed me that it’s a beautiful day.” Up came a ninth with the very
same observation, and both she and I felt inclined to titter like very
schoolgirls. It is far better to start with something more original.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The first person singular not a good topic.</div>
<p>It is as well to keep the pronoun “I” in the background just at first.
If your partner is as nice as she might be, she will soon give you
abundant opportunity for talking about yourself.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The beginner’s partner.</div>
<p>By the way, a man must not at his very first dinner-party expect to be
given a pretty girl to take down. He may possibly be so fortunate, but
those prizes are usually reserved for men of more experience in social
life. The young man has probably been invited to make up the necessary
number of men, and an unmarried<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_060" id="page_060"></SPAN>{60}</span> lady of uncertain age or an elderly
woman without much claim to consideration will probably fall to his
share.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Compensations.</div>
<p>However, there is this consolation, she will be excellent for practising
upon. He would not mind making small mistakes so much as if his partner
were a young and charming girl.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The small-talk art not so difficult.</div>
<p>Nor is the art of making small talk so difficult as it would be with a
pair of bright and youthful eyes beaming into your own, and confusing
you into forgetfulness of all but their own delightful language.</p>
<p>But what to talk about is the puzzle of the moment.</p>
<div class="sidenote">A good beginning.</div>
<p>I have known a good beginning made with some such, remark as, “Do you
know everybody here?” This leads perhaps to the acquisition of some
information as to the other guests.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Some useful topics.</div>
<p>At table there will be more to suggest topics. The floral decorations
often lead up to conversation. The colours of the flowers remind one of
pictures, and the lady on one’s right may be asked if she has been to
any exhibitions that may be open. If so, what pictures she liked best.
Does she paint? Has she read the novel of the hour? What she thinks of
it? Does she bike? At this rate our novice gets on swimmingly, and may
safely be left to himself.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_061" id="page_061"></SPAN>{61}</span></p>
<div class="sidenote">A few details.</div>
<p>I must not omit some small details dealing with the guest on his
arrival, and on his way afterwards from the drawing-to the dining-room.</p>
<div class="sidenote">On arrival.</div>
<p>The servant who admits him takes his overcoat and hat, either in the
hall or in a room set apart for the purpose.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The lady precedes her escort.</div>
<p>Should he be accompanied by a lady he follows her upstairs, and she
enters the room slightly in advance of him, probably about a yard or so.
The young man must not have the appearance of hanging back, however. He
walks steadily and rather briskly up the room.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Taking down to dinner.</div>
<p>When the move to the dining-room is made, the gentlemen offer to the
ladies the arm which will place them on the wall side of the staircase,
thus avoiding the contact of their dresses with the balusters. But
should the dining-room be, as it very frequently is, on the same floor
as the drawing-room, then the right arm is offered.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Positions at table.</div>
<p>The lady sits on the right of her escort at table. The servants usually
indicate the seats that the guests are to occupy. Sometimes the host,
previously instructed by the hostess, comes to the rescue with, “Your
seat is here, I believe, Mr. So-and-so,” who immediately takes his lady
to the chair on the right of the two the couple are to occupy. The
system of name-cards<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_062" id="page_062"></SPAN>{62}</span> is observed in some circles, but it is not a good
one.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Name-cards.</div>
<p>It is distressing, in these days of short sight and small rooms, to see
several couples wandering about endeavouring to decipher the names on
the small cards.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The better plan.</div>
<p>It is much better for the host to have made himself master of the order
in which the guests are to be seated, and as he enters the dining-room
first with the lady of highest social importance, he is ready to point
out their places to each couple as they enter.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Preliminaries at table.</div>
<p>The first thing to be done on sitting down is to unfold the table napkin
and place it across the knee. The menu is then consulted, and a mental
note made of any favourite dish, so that it may not be refused. But all
the time a flow of small talk must be kept up with one’s partner of the
hour. Sometimes she turns to talk with the man on her right. Then her
escort may converse with the lady on his left, if she is disengaged. But
he must always remember that his first duty is to her whom he took down.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The wineglasses.</div>
<p>There will probably be three or four wineglasses on our young friend’s
right. One of these—either a long-stemmed, wide-cupped glass or a small
tumbler—is for champagne. The coloured glass is for hock, the
slenderest and smallest is for sherry,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_063" id="page_063"></SPAN>{63}</span> and the claret-glass occupies in
dimensions a midway between those of the champagne and claret-glass.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Knives and forks.</div>
<p>With regard to the knives and forks, everything is now made very easy
for the novice by the way in which the table is laid.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Taking soup.</div>
<p>The tablespoon is for soup, which must be eaten from the side of the
spoon close to the point. The fish knife and fork are placed outside the
others, so as to be ready to the hand, the fish course coming directly
after the soup.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Carving.</div>
<p>The dishes are usually all handed round at dinner-parties, the carving
being done at the sideboard or in an immediately adjoining room, but
sometimes the host carves the joint and game.</p>
<p>There is occasionally a subtle reason for this preference, not wholly
unconnected with a taste for those morsels that especially appeal to the
gourmand. The host may desire to secure these for some special,
appreciative guest—or for himself! In some families the principal
dishes are always placed before the master of the house to be carved.
Maidservants can rarely carve well, and butlers have gone considerably
out of fashion in the upper middle classes of society of late years.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Choice of dishes and wines.</div>
<p>When offered the usual choice of dishes or wines, the guest must decide
at once and indicate his choice without delay. Any hesitation gives him
the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_064" id="page_064"></SPAN>{64}</span> air of being unable to reject either; of being in the position,
with regard to food, occupied by the poet who wrote—</p>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">“How happy could I be with either,<br/></span>
<span class="i1">Were t’other dear charmer away!”<br/></span></div>
</div></div>
<p class="nind">So he must be prompt, and, should the dish be handed round, help himself
without delay.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Helping oneself.</div>
<p>On this very point of helping himself I have seen young men endure
excruciating agonies of shyness. Sometimes they take the merest morsel
of some excellent dish, though they would like very well to have some
more. At other times they help themselves to far too much, because they
are so confused that they will not take the necessary time to separate
for their own share a moderate quantity. Occasionally they drop the
spoon or fork with a clatter into the dish, after which they look
intensely miserable for ten minutes or so.</p>
<div class="sidenote">A useful reflection.</div>
<p>The best way to avoid all this is to preserve absolute self-possession
by reflecting that the other guests are all too well occupied to pay any
attention to such trifling matters. The self-consciousness of which
shyness is the outward and visible sign, makes a young man feel that
every one is observing him, especially when he is awkward in handling<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_065" id="page_065"></SPAN>{65}</span>
things. But he may console himself with the conviction that he is of
much less importance to them than their own dinner, to say nothing of
the ladies who sit beside them.</p>
<p>When asked to choose between claret or hock, he may either mention one
or indicate the glass.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The order of the wines.</div>
<p>“Sherry, sir,” is the first wine handed round. Then comes the choice
between claret and hock.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Indicating.</div>
<p>Afterwards “champagne, sir?” usually answered by slightly drawing the
champagne-glass forward, or by a nod; sometimes by a shake of the head.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Thanking servants.</div>
<p>An occasional “Thanks” to the servant is not amiss, but it is
unnecessary to keep on expressing gratitude. Some people never dream of
saying “Thank you.” Others say it out of pure graciousness of manner and
gentleness of mind. So our young man may take his choice.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Maidservants at table.</div>
<p>I have observed that when a neat and pretty parlourmaid waits at table
she is more likely to be thanked than a manservant; and this not only by
gentlemen, but by ladies as well. I offer no explanation of why this
should be so. I merely record the fact as I have noted it.</p>
<p>The perfection of service resolves itself into absolute accuracy of
machinery united to the observant watchfulness of long training. One
barely<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_066" id="page_066"></SPAN>{66}</span> discovers that one needs bread when it is presented at one’s
elbow.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The perfection of service.</div>
<p>In the same way, vegetables, wine, aërated waters, or whatever one may
be drinking, arrives at exactly the right moment. The mechanism or
organisation of such waiting is so good that there is no interruption of
conversation. The servants understand that a mere turning away from the
dish means rejection. Should any guest find a difficulty in helping
himself, they simplify matters for him as much as possible.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Studying the menu.</div>
<p>As the dishes are not named when they are handed round, it is necessary
to study the menu in order to know what they are. Some young people
appear to think that it looks “greedy” to pay much attention to the
information given on the dainty little bill of fare; but this, of
course, is one of youth’s delusions. I have seen a short-sighted young
man straining his eyes in the endeavour to read furtively the names of
the dishes on his menu. He would have done far better if he had boldly
taken it up in his hand to examine it.</p>
<p>However hungry one may be, the duty of keeping up a conversation must
not be neglected. The</p>
<div class="sidenote">A topic to be avoided.</div>
<p>The viands must never be chosen as a topic, for either praise or blame.
If one knows a girl very well, one may ask, “Do you like<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_067" id="page_067"></SPAN>{67}</span> sweets?” or
some such question, but it is safer with strangers to avoid the subject
of the food provided.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Moderation in wines.</div>
<p>It is scarcely necessary to remark that drinking too much wine is a very
bad phase of ill manners. At one time it was actually fashionable to
become intoxicated after dinner, but those days are gone, I am thankful
to say. The young man who exceeds in this way is soon made aware of the
fact that he has given his hostess dire offence. He is never invited
again, or not for a long time.</p>
<p>The wineglass is never drained at a draught in polite society; nor is it
considered polite to eat very quickly.</p>
<div class="sidenote">As little noise as possible.</div>
<p>The knife, fork, and spoon are handled as noiselessly as possible.
Scraping the edge of the knife against the plate is unpardonable. It
produces a grating noise that is excessively unpleasant. In sending a
plate away to be replenished, the diner leaves his knife and fork or his
spoon, as the case may be, upon it.</p>
<p>In dealing with bread, use neither knife nor fork.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Bread must be broken.</div>
<p>It must be broken with the fingers. There is a story of an absent-minded
and short-sighted prelate who, with the remark, “My bread, I think?” dug
his fork into the white hand of a lady who sat beside him. He had been
badly brought up, or he<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_068" id="page_068"></SPAN>{68}</span> would not have used his fork, and the white
hand would have experienced nothing worse than a sudden grasp.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The moustache and soup.</div>
<p>It requires some expertness and practice for a man with a moustache to
take soup in a perfectly inoffensive manner. The accomplishment is worth
some trouble.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The mouth.</div>
<p>Some men, who should know better (and some women, too), forget that the
mouth should be kept closed while mastication is going on. This is a
very important matter.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Nature not a good guide in this matter.</div>
<p>Nature teaches us to keep the mouth open, as any one may see from the
way in which children and uncultivated persons eat, but good manners
enjoin upon us that to adopt the natural mode is to disgust and annoy
those with whom we sit at meat. If these little things have not been
learned in childhood, it is difficult to master them afterwards. Mothers
should also teach their boys (and girls) never to speak while food is in
the mouth, and never to drink until it is quite empty. Who would not be
mortified if he were to choke ignominiously at the dinner-table?</p>
<div class="sidenote">How to eat a curry, &c.</div>
<p>The correct way to eat a curry is with a spoon and fork; but this is the
only meat dish that is eaten in this way. Sweetbreads and many other
entrées are eaten with the fork alone. It is then held in the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_069" id="page_069"></SPAN>{69}</span> right
hand. Should a knife be found necessary it can, of course, be used.
Vegetable entrées are always eaten with a fork, held in the right hand.
Fish is eaten with a silver (or plated) knife and fork.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Taking Sauces.</div>
<p>Sauces are never taken very plentifully. The sauce ladle, filled, will
be generally sufficient. I once saw a man, in helping himself to oyster
sauce, look scrutinisingly in the sauceboat and carefully fish about for
as many oysters as he could collect in the ladle. This caused some
covert amusement, except, perhaps, to the last persons to whom the sauce
was handed. They probably found few oysters.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Foods touched with the fingers.</div>
<p>Bread, biscuits, olives, asparagus, celery, and bonbons are the forms of
food that may be touched with the fingers. There used once to be a rule
that a bone might be picked, if only the finger and thumb were used in
holding it. But that was in the days when table cutlery was far from
having been brought to its present condition of perfection. There is now
no excuse for handling bones—knives and forks suffice; and it is only
in the lowest grades of society that they are found inadequate.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Salads.</div>
<p>In helping oneself to salad, it must be placed on the crescent-shaped
plate laid down for that purpose before it is handed round. This plate
is put at the left side of the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_070" id="page_070"></SPAN>{70}</span> round plate. Both knife and fork are
often necessary with salads, but if they are sent to table as they
should be, with the lettuce and other vegetables broken small, the fork
is quite sufficient. It is always disagreeable to see a steel knife used
with vinegar, and it should be avoided whenever possible to do so.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Oysters.</div>
<p>Oysters served on the shell are eaten with a fish-knife and fork. Other
fish hors d’œuvres are eaten with a fish-fork.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Hors d’œuvres</div>
<p>It is not always possible to tell, either from the appearance or name of
the hors d’œuvre, whether it consists of fish or meat. In that case
it is safer to use an ordinary fork; and for this reason: the fish-knife
has been laid for a fish course, and if it should have been previously
unnecessarily used for the hors d’œuvre, it will be needful for the
servant to bring another. Fish rissoles may be eaten with a fish-fork
only—in fact, any preparation that does not need the knife.</p>
<div class="sidenote">A safe rule.</div>
<p>It is a safe rule never to use either knife or spoon if the fork will
do. With ice-pudding or ices in any form a small spoon is used.</p>
<p>Now let us take the dinner from the very beginning, and go through the
courses.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The courses seriatim.</div>
<div class="sidenote">Hors d’œuvres.</div>
<p>First, there may be hors d’œuvres, small morsels of various kinds
which are found ready to hand when<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_071" id="page_071"></SPAN>{71}</span> the guests sit down. I have already
referred to these.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Soup.</div>
<p>Next comes soup, generally one thick and one clear. The attendant offers
the diner a choice, and he must promptly make it. When it is set before
him he begins at once, not waiting till every one is served.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Taste before salting.</div>
<p>He takes up the tablespoon, placed ready at his right hand, and it is
not considered very good form to immediately put some salt into the soup
before tasting it. People who pride themselves on the possession of a
clever cook sometimes feel annoyed at the distrust of her powers shown
in this simple action.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The addenda to soup.</div>
<p>With soup small addenda are often handed. The guest helps himself to
these, whether they are croûtons, fried bread-crumbs or other
supplementary provision, with the spoon handed round on the dish.</p>
<div class="sidenote">When to begin dining.</div>
<p>It is a very old-fashioned piece of good manners to wait till every one
is served. So old-fashioned is it that it survives at present only among
the uncultured classes. The correct thing to do nowadays is to begin
eating without reference to others. The old style must not only have
been trying in consequence of seeing one’s food grow cold before one’s
eyes, but it must<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_072" id="page_072"></SPAN>{72}</span> also have been responsible for making dinner a very
slow and tedious meal. Now the attendants remove the plates from the
guests first helped directly the fork is laid down, and this greatly
accelerates the service.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Tilting the soup-plate.</div>
<div class="sidenote">The direction of the tilt.</div>
<p>The soup-plate, if tilted at all, is raised at the side nearest the
eater, so that the soup collects at the furthest point from him. It is
generally unnecessary to tilt the plate, however. But the thing to avoid
is passing the left hand round it in a half-embrace and tilting it
towards the eater. This is highly incorrect; it is also dangerous. The
soup has been known to spill on the cloth, and even over the diner.</p>
<p>When the servant is removing your soup-plate he will sometimes ask, “Any
more, sir?” to which you must reply in the negative. A shake of the head
will suffice.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Neither soup nor fish may be helped twice.</div>
<p>Soup is never helped twice. Nor is fish. This is the next course. Bread
is always eaten with fish. I have already explained that a silver knife
and fork are used.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Fish and fish sauce.</div>
<p>The sauce handed is almost invariably accepted. Sometimes the cruet is
handed round, containing some sort of condiment suitable to the fish
served. It is, of course, a matter of choice whether this be accepted or
not.</p>
<p>Very few diners work straight through<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_073" id="page_073"></SPAN>{73}</span> a menu without omitting some
dishes.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Omitting dishes.</div>
<p>The idea of giving so many is that there may be some to suit all tastes.
No one is expected to take of all, though it is quite permissible to do
so.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Entrées.</div>
<p>After the soup and fish the entrées are handed round. The dishes are
presented at the left side of the diner, and he helps himself with his
right hand, a tablespoon being placed on the dish for that purpose; or
with both hands, using spoon and fork, should the nature of the dish
render this necessary.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Accompaniments to dishes.</div>
<p>When slices from a joint, or game, or poultry are handed round, the
vegetables, gravies, and sauces accompanying them are handed after. It
is usual to wait for these etceteras before beginning upon the meat,
fowl, venison, or game. For instance, no one would commence upon a slice
of roast beef or mutton without potatoes or gravy, nor upon a piece of
pheasant without browned bread-crumbs, or bread sauce, or gravy. I say
“no one” would do it, but I have seen it done, whether in absence of
mind or from pressure of appetite I cannot pretend to say. It is a
mistake, however.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Sweets and cheese.</div>
<p>Cheese is handed round after the sweets in order to prepare the palate
for the enjoyment of dessert wines. This, at<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_074" id="page_074"></SPAN>{74}</span> least, was the original
meaning of introducing it at this stage of the meal.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Ice-pudding.</div>
<p>But now ice-pudding, when served, follows it, thus contradictorily
re-establishing the reign of sweets.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Savouries.</div>
<p>Savouries are handed round with the cheese course. These are eaten with
a fork. Even a cheese fondu is eaten with a fork, though the cook
occasionally fails to bring it to the requisite firmness of consistency,
in which case it looks more suited to a spoon; but the fork must do.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Celery.</div>
<p>Celery is eaten with the fingers, like asparagus.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Asparagus.</div>
<p>This last-named, by the way, if too much cooked, and consequently very
soft and unmanageable, may be eaten with the fork, but must not be
touched with the knife. And again, should asparagus be served with the
melted butter thrown over it, it must be eaten with a fork. It very
seldom is so served, but I have met with this mode in some houses.</p>
<p>Cheese ramequins are eaten with the fingers.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Cheese, how served.</div>
<p>Cheese itself is handed round on a dish or plate with the pieces cut
ready to one’s hand.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Cheese, how eaten.</div>
<p>The diner helps himself with the knife laid ready beside the pieces of
cheese, not with his own knife. If watercress is handed round, it is
taken up in the fingers and eaten in the same way. Cheese is cut in
small pieces and conveyed to the mouth on a<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_075" id="page_075"></SPAN>{75}</span> piece of bread or biscuit.
Very few persons continue to eat it in the old-fashioned way by carrying
it to the mouth with the knife. I have seen it taken up with the
fingers, but as cheese is apt to smell rather strongly it is better to
avoid touching it.</p>
<div class="sidenote">A safe rule with sweets.</div>
<p>With regard to sweets, it is a safe rule to use the fork only when it
suffices for the work in hand. With tarts, as a rule, both spoon and
fork are necessary, especially when there is syrup. Cold tart can often
be comfortably eaten with a fork. Jellies and creams are eaten with a
fork only; ice-pudding with an ice-spoon, or, failing that, a teaspoon.</p>
<p>From the moment one has unfolded one’s napkin and placed the bread it
contained at one’s left, there is nothing more to do that concerns the
“cover,” as the preparation for each diner’s convenience is called,
until the dessert-plate, with its d’oyley, finger-glass, silver knife
and fork—and perhaps ice-plate and spoon in addition—is set down
before one.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Placing the dessert knife and fork.</div>
<div class="sidenote">D’oyley and finger-glass.</div>
<p>Before the or dessert are handed round, one must place the dessert-knife
and fork at right and left, respectively, of one’s plate, and, taking up
the finger-glass carefully in one hand, with the other place the d’oyley
on the cloth to the left of one’s plate, then setting the finger-glass<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_076" id="page_076"></SPAN>{76}</span>
down upon it. I say “carefully,” because these glasses are often of the
lightest possible kind, and are occasionally of a costly description.
Besides, rough handling might tend to spill the water they contain.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Dessert.</div>
<p>With regard to the dessert fruits, &c., there are a few puzzles to be
found among them for the inexperienced.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Grapes.</div>
<p>Grapes present one of these.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Expelling skin and seeds.</div>
<p>They are taken up singly, and afterwards the skin and seeds have to be
expelled as unobtrusively as possible. It is a matter of great
difficulty to accomplish this by any other method than using the hand,
therefore this is the accepted custom. The forefinger is curved above
the mouth in a manner which serves to conceal the ejectment, and the
skin and seeds are in this way conveyed to the plate, the fingers being
afterwards wiped with the napkin.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Bananas.</div>
<p>Bananas are peeled with the knife and fork, and the pieces are conveyed
to the mouth by means of the fork.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Oranges.</div>
<p>Oranges are cut in two, then in four, and with the aid of knife and fork
the contents of each section are extracted in two or more parts, and
carried to the lips on the fork.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Apples and pears, &c.</div>
<p>Apples and pears are peeled with the knife and fork; peaches, apricots,
and nectarines in the same way.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Strawberries.</div>
<p>Strawberries are taken by the stem,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_077" id="page_077"></SPAN>{77}</span> dipped in sugar and cream, and
carried to the lips with the fingers.</p>
<p>If the fruit has been picked free of husks and stem, it may be bruised
on the plate with sugar and cream, and eaten with a spoon. Preserved
ginger is eaten with the knife and fork.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Pines and melons.</div>
<p>A spoon is necessary with pines, melons, and very juicy strawberries,
after they have been prepared with the knife and fork.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Nuts.</div>
<p>Nuts are cracked with the nutcrackers, and then extracted by the
fingers. With filberts and Brazil nuts the knife and fork are called
into requisition in order to free them from skin, but walnuts are too
intricate for anything less wonderful in mechanism than the human hand.
In view of this, they are sometimes prepared before being sent to table,
and of late years they have been sold ready cracked and peeled for this
purpose.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Almonds.</div>
<p>Almonds are never sent to table in their shells, so that they present no
difficulties to the novice. At dessert they are usually accompanied by
raisins, which, like the almonds, are carried to the mouth in the
fingers.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Crystallised fruits.</div>
<p>Crystallised fruits are cut with the knife and fork, unless they happen
to be of a small size, such as cherries. In that<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_078" id="page_078"></SPAN>{78}</span> case they are eaten
whole, being carried to the lips on the fork.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Liqueurs.</div>
<p>Liqueurs are handed round at dessert, poured out ready into the small
glasses that are called after them. There is generally a choice, such as
“Chartreuse or Bénèdictine, sir?” to which it is unnecessary to reply,
“Both, please,” as a historic young man did once.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Passing the wines.</div>
<p>The servants often leave the dining-room when the dessert is placed on
the table, and when this is so, the wine is passed round from hand to
hand, each gentleman attending first to the lady he has escorted and
then helping himself before passing on the decanter, claret jug, or
champagne bottle. The good old fashion of using silver decanter-stands
has long disappeared, to the detriment of many a good tablecloth. So has
the genial and hospitable fashion of drinking wine with one’s guests,
and they with each other. But this may be rather a good thing in the
interests of temperance.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The water-drinker not singular.</div>
<p>Apropos to this subject, I may remark that there is now nothing singular
in drinking nothing but water. The days are gone when a man was thought
a milksop because he could not “drink his bottle,” or if he refused wine
or spirits. Should any young man prefer water, he asks for it when the
servants offer him wine. He is then offered<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_079" id="page_079"></SPAN>{79}</span> Apollinaris or distilled
water or soda-water, or some other preparation of filtered and distilled
water, and may choose some of these in preference to plain water.</p>
<div class="sidenote">“One wine” diners.</div>
<p>Claret is the favourite dessert wine of the day, but port is still seen
at some tables, and it is usual to offer champagne, as many prefer to
drink only one kind of wine throughout the meal, from start to finish.
In fact, this is becoming quite a fashion in some sets.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Cigars and cigarettes.</div>
<p>The host provides cigars and cigarettes for his guests, and it would not
be necessary or advisable to produce one’s own supply.</p>
<div class="sidenote">When the ladies leave the dining-room.</div>
<p>When the ladies rise to leave the dining-room, the gentleman nearest the
door opens the door for them, and stands beside it until they have all
passed through, when he closes it after them. However anxious he may be
to join them in the drawing-room, he must not do so until the others
make a move. Sometimes, if he is very young and rather “out of it” when
politics or sport are under discussion, his host says to him, “I’m
afraid you are bored. If you would like to join the ladies, don’t stand
on ceremony.” But on the other hand he may dread the ordeal of entering
the drawing-room alone, and feel that the safer way is to wait for a
convoy. This he must decide for himself.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_080" id="page_080"></SPAN>{80}</span></p>
<div class="sidenote">A hint from the host.</div>
<p>Perhaps his host may wish to talk confidentially with some other guest.
If he makes this apparent to the younger man, the latter must accept any
such intimation as the above, understanding it to be a courteous mode of
dismissing him.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The ordinary rule when rejoining the ladies.</div>
<p>The ordinary rule is that the gentlemen join the ladies all together,
the man of highest position leaving the dining-room first, the host
last. Tea is then carried round in the drawing-room, and the gentlemen
take the empty cups from the ladies and put them down in some safe
place, out of the way of risk of accident.</p>
<div class="sidenote">When a lady sings or plays.</div>
<p>Should any lady sing or play, the gentleman nearest to her escorts her
to the piano and helps her to arrange her music, to dispose of her
gloves, fan, handkerchief, &c.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Leaving early.</div>
<p>It is scarcely etiquette for young men to leave first after a
dinner-party. It is more usual for the elders of the party to make the
first move towards departure. But should the young man have an
engagement of a pressing kind, such as a promise to escort ladies to a
ball, he must withdraw in good time, explaining the position to his
hostess.</p>
<p>No one leaves after a dinner-party without saying “Good-night” to his
host and hostess. Even in the case of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_081" id="page_081"></SPAN>{81}</span> an early departure, before the
gentlemen have left the dining-room, the guest must visit the
drawing-room to make his adieux, not only to the lady of the house, but
to any others who may be of his acquaintance. Those whom he has met for
the first time that evening may be saluted with a parting bow.</p>
<p>At a formal dinner-party the evening suit is imperative, with
dress-coat, white or black waistcoat, black trousers, and white tie.
When dining with friends with whom one is on terms of familiarity, the
dinner-jacket may be substituted for the coat. Black ties often take the
place of white. Patent-leather shoes or boots must be worn. It would be
unpardonable to appear in thick walking-boots or shoes; and the
necessity for immaculately polished footgear has cost the young man of
the present day many a cab. His varnished shoes must show no trace of
mud or dust. To tell the truth, he often carries a silk handkerchief in
his pocket wherewith to obliterate the traces of the latter.</p>
<p>The pocket-handkerchief used with evening dress must be of white
cambric, and of as good a colour as one’s washerwoman will permit. It
ought to be of fine quality. The hair must be short and very well
brushed.</p>
<p>It used to be the custom to tip the servants on leaving the house where
one had dined as a guest, but this has<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_082" id="page_082"></SPAN>{82}</span> fallen into disuse. There are
many men who hand a silver coin to the butler, or footman, or
waiting-maid who helps them into their coats, calls up their carriage,
or hails a cab for them, seeing them into it, or rendering any other
service of a similar kind. This is a matter that each man must decide
for himself. It is only necessary to remark that the custom of giving
shillings or half-crowns to the servants after a dinner-party no longer
reigns; though there are always good-natured folk who will not let it
absolutely die out.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_083" id="page_083"></SPAN>{83}</span></p>
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