"It ain't any trouble to get along in Europe, whether you know the language or not," said the man who had been on a "personally conducted." "Take Germany, for instance. One day I wanted a drink, and I went into one of the gardens and said to the waiter: 'Look here, old man, I'm dry; do youunderstand? Dry!' and the next minute he came back with three beers."
Mrs. Smith—"I'm afraid you'll have to look for a new place the first of the month, Bridget." Fat Bridget—"What fur, Ma'am?" Mrs. Smith—"Mr. Smith objects to so much waste in the kitchen." Fat Bridget—"Lor, Ma'am, if that's all, I'll lace mesilf widin an inch of my life."
"I want you to come and dine with me," said John to Pat, "though I can only offer you a nice piece of beef and boiled potatoes." "Don't make the laist apology about the dinner," said Pat, "it's the very same I should have had at home, barrin' the bafe."
"You must find that impediment in your speech rather inconvenient at times, Mr. Brown."
"Oh, n-o—everyb-body has his little p-peculiarity. Stammering is m-m-mine; what is y-yours?"
"Well, really, Mr. Brown, I am not aware that I have any."
"W-which hand d-do you stir y-your tea with?"
"The right hand, of course."
"W-well, that is y-your p-peculiarity; most p-people u-use a t-teaspoon."
The second course of the table d'hote was being served.
"What is this leathery stuff?" demanded the corpulent diner.
"That, sir, is filet of sole," replied the waiter.
"Take it away," said the corpulent diner, "and see if you can't get me a nice, tender piece of the upper, with the buttons removed."
"Gracious," exclaimed Mr. Swellman, "The baby has eaten a lot of that dog biscuit."
"Never mind, dear," replied Mrs. Swellman. "It just serves Fido right, for he's often stolen the baby's food—haven't you, Fido? 'Oo naughty 'ittle rogue, 'oo!"
Once upon a time there was a young man who felt sure that within his bosom burned the incandescent light of dramatic fire. To assure the world of this fact he secured a position as supernumerary in a theatrical combination which was presenting a repertoire of classical tragedies.
Of course, all great careers have an humble start; so had his. All that was required of him was to come on R. U. E., when the lordly baron was about to take his regal bride to his proud ancestral halls, and inform him, and the audience:
"My lord, the carriage waits."
The leading lady, who played the fair young bride, was rather inclined to embonpoint, as we say when we wish to insinuate as delicately as possible that some one is fat.
The budding genius had rehearsed his lines—or line—until he felt that he was letter perfect. He haunted the wings all evening until he heard his cue. Then he strutted onto the scene, struck a tragic pose, and announced excitedly:
"My Lord! She carries weights!"
Frank Stockton tells a fish story. A gentleman asked a question of a boy who was fishing. The boy mumbled an indistinct response. "Why don't you speak plainly?" said the gentleman. "What have you in your mouth?"
"Wums—wums for bait," answered the boy.
"That was the first instance I ever knew," remarked Mr. Stockton in telling the story, "of anybody really speaking with baited breath."
Smith—"Did you ever see a woman trying to pull a cork out of a bottle, colonel?"
Col. Drinker—"No, suh; and no gentleman will stand idly by and see a lady struggling to take a cork out of a bottle. It takes her too long, suh?"
Wife—"We have been married twelve years, and not once during that time have I missed baking you a cake for your birthday. Have I dear?"
Hubby—"No, my pet I look back upon those cakes as milestones in my life."
Jones—"You don't usually say grace at meals?"
Bones—"No; only when the minister is present."
Jones—"Ah, I see. He not alone graces the occasion, but he occasions the grace."
Doctor—"My dear young lady, you are drinking unfiltered water, which swarms with animal organisms. You should have it boiled; that will kill them."
Patient—"Well, doctor, I think I'd sooner be an aquarium than a cemetery."
A tiny girl of seven gave a dinner party the other day, for which twelve covers were laid, and that number of small maidens sat down to dine. It was a real little girl's dinner, and the little hostess herself presided, sitting at the head of the table. She had been very anxious, in looking forward to it, to do everything as it should be done.
"Mamma," she asked, "shall we say grace?"
"No," said mamma, "it will be a very informal dinner, and I think you need not do that."
That meant one less ceremony to be gone through, and was a relief, but the little lady was anxious to have all her small guests understand it. So, as they were gathered about the table, she explained:
"Mamma says this is such an infernal dinner that we need not have grace today."
Three different waiters at a hotel asked a prim, precise little man at dinner if he would have soup. A little annoyed, he said to the last waiter who asked the question:
"Is it compulsory?"
"No, sir," said the waiter. "I think it's mock turtle."
Mistress—"Now, remember, Bridget, the Joneses are coming for dinner tonight."
Cook—"Leave it to me, mum. I'll do me worst! They'll never trouble yez again!"
Murphy—"Oi tell yez, Flaherty, th' saloon is th' poor mon's cloob. Troth, Oi don't see how he could git on widout it."
Flaherty—"He couldn't. Iv there wor no saloons there'd be no poor min."
A member of the police force came across a boy the other day who was wheeling home a load of oyster cans and bottles, and, curious to know what use the lad could put them to, he made a direct inquiry.
"Going to throw them into our back yard," replied the boy. "I took two loads home yesterday."
"But what do you use them for?"
"I'd just as lief tell," continued the boy, as he spit on his hands to resume hold on the barrow. "We are going to have some relashuns come in from the country. We may not have much to eat, but if they see these cans and bottles and boxes they'll think we've had isters, champagne, figs and nuts till we've got tired of 'em, and are living on bread and taters for a healthy change."
Col. Sam Reed was breakfasting at Delmonico's. After looking over the French menu he said to the waiter:
"You may bring me some eggs blushing like Aurora, and some breeches in the royal fashion, with velvet sauce; and for dessert be sure you bring a stew of good christians, and a mouthful of ladies."
The astonished waiter said:
"Sir, we don't serve such dishes."
"Yes, you do," said the guest, pointing to the bill of fare—"Oeufs a la Aurore—culottes a la royale sacque veloute—compote de bon cretiens—bouchee de dames."
"All right," said the waiter—"ready in two minutes, sir."
"Patrick, you were on a bad spree yesterday."
"Yis, Mr. Ellis, I was. Bless me if I weren't a-layin' in the gutter wid a pig. Father Ryan came along, looked at me, and says says he 'One is known by the company he kapes."
"And did you get up, Patrick?"
"No, but the pig did."
Gladstone was a marvelous conversationalist and particularly alive at dinner parties, where, by the way, in his more vigorous days, he came rightly near monopolizing the conversation. Two well-known men about town who prided themselves on their ability to be interesting at the dinner table were invariably eclipsed when Gladstone was present. No matter what the subject broached, before it had proceeded far, the G. O. M. forged to the front, and by his familiarity with the question, became the focus of all eyes and ears. Tired of being thus overshadowed, the gentlemen referred to hit upon a plan for getting even, at least for the once. Selecting an abstruse and very unfamiliar subject, they delved into the Encyclopædia Britannica and thoroughly posted themselves. The question was one on which scientists differed and so the conspirators took opposite sides, each prepared to maintain his view. At a convenient moment during the next dinner when they met Mr. Gladstone, the subject was sprung and immediately the twodisputantswent at it, hammer and tongs. For some time the fight raged hotly, no one else venturing to take part in the discussion. The trick was working capitally and the triumphant pair cast congratulating looks at one another. Mr. Gladstone hadn't spoken a word. Finally the hostess, in a momentary lull in the conflict, said: "What are your views about this matter, Mr. Gladstone; which do you think right now?" "There is very little choice," returned the sly old fox, turning with a good natured smile to the disputants, "I made up my mind as to that when I wrote the article on the subject in the Encyclopædia Britannica, which, by the way, gentlemen, I see you have been studying very carefully." There was a moment of embarassing silence and then a roar. The conspirators acknowledged themselves fairly beaten and since then they allow Mr. Gladstone the floor whenever he signifies a wish to occupy it.
The dinner in private house or club where the ladies are at table during the toasts, is perhaps the most tryingof all ordeals to the man not blessed with nerve.
Toasts at dinner which are given in honor of some special guest are necessarily of the most informal kind. A bit of interesting personal reminiscence, with as much of the ego eliminated as possible, a good story (always and always the good story) a compliment to the guest of honor a few well chosen words (never fulsome) of praise for host and hostess, and in closing a few lines complimentary to the ladies. This pre-supposes one is expected to give a somewhat extended toast. Ordinarily a story is sufficient. On one point never make a mistake—sit down before your friends have had quite enough of you, never keep on talking until the ladies vote you a bore and the men something more decided.
The host should be the real toastmaster, though his formidable title is concealed under the informal manner in which he draws out his guests. At such a dinner the talks are very short; and generally between courses, as no one can enter on a long dissertation and eat his dinner. Later when the dessert is removed, and the coffee, cigars and liqueurs brought in, the toasts come. If the guest of honor is a traveler the host may start him on his favorite topic by asking: "What do you consider the most dangerous journey you ever took?" Then naturally will follow tales of wrecks, floods, hold-ups, trains missed, traveling in different countries, etc. If the host knows that Jones has the star story and is too modest to assert himself, it is his duty to call on Jones, not in a marked way, but easily, gracefully, helping himalong by well-put questions until Jones forgets his embarassment and that he is telling a story.
A man at a formal dinner assigned to "take in" a lady whom he has never met before, should take his conversational cue from her—no Chinese desecration, of course—and thereby avoid pitfalls to which the diffident and embarrassed are often led. Besides, it is woman's admitted privilege to "do all the talking," and she best gives the key note at dinners.
For the informal dinner, be natural, good-natured and jolly. As ready to listen and to laugh heartily at the jokes of others as to talk.
Do not keep silent because you have no spread eagle oration at command, your friends do not expect it. Tell your own interesting experiences, always remembering how tiresome the repetition of the capital "I" becomes.
Avoid telling jokes at the expense of another guest present. This may do at a stag supper, but an enemy may be made by making a friend ridiculous before the ladies.
Make your talk very brief and in telling a story get to the point quickly without dragging in an endless number of uninteresting details.
After you have told your story and made your hit, be content to give others a chance even if you have a host of good stories at command.
If Brown is present do not steal his best story and tell it in his presence; he will not thank you if you do.
Good topics to avoid at a dinner where one does not know the personal history of each guest present, aredivorces, jokes on foreigners of any nationality, mixed marriages, politics, religion, in fact anything that could be taken as a personal attack by another guest.
The proposal of a health in an after-dinner speech dates back to mediæval times. At that time the loving cup was used at every banquet. It was filled to the brim with wine and in the center was placed a piece of toasted bread. The cup circulated the table, each one present taking a sip of the wine. When it came back to the host he drained the remaining wine and ate the piece of toast in honor of all the friends assembled at his table.
The ancient Greeks, the Romans, the Assyrians and the Egyptians drank each other's health at dinner, but post-prandial oratory was not adopted until modern times. The Greek toast was, "I salute you, be happy;" that of the Romans, "I drink your health."
It is highly improper for a person to drink to his own health, hence the only thing to do when one's health is being drunk by his friends is for the individual honored to leave his glass alone, and bow his thanks in a dignified manner, rising to talk only when he is called on for a speech.
Perhaps one of the wittiest toasts on record is that of Franklin. After the victories of Washington had made his name well known throughout Europe, Franklinchanced to dine with the French and English ambassadors, when these toasts were drunk. The son of Britain rose and proudly remarked: "England—the sun whose beams enlighten and fructify the remotest corners of the earth."
The Frenchman, glowing with national pride, drunk: "France—the moon whose mild, steady, cheering rays are the delight of all nations; consoling them in darkness and making their dreariness beautiful."
This furnished Franklin with a fine opening and his quaint humor bubbled over in his retort: "George Washington—the Joshua, who commanded the sun and the moon to stand still, and they obeyed him."
Little ter-day and little ter-morrer,Out o' meal and boun' ter borrer;Hoe cake an' dab o' dough,Dash her down an' say no mo'!Peace at home and pleasure abroad,Please your neighbor an' serve de Lord.God bless you.
Well may we ever be,Ill may we never be;Here's to the PresidentAnd good company.
May health and happiness both be yours,And fortune smile on all you do;And we hope you feel like wishing usThe same good things we're wishing you!—From Royal Blue.
God made manFrail as a bubble;God made love,Love made trouble.God made the vine,Was it a sinThat man made wineTo drown trouble in?
May love, like wine, improve as Time advances,May we always have old wines, old friends and young cares.
'Twas nectar fedOf old, 'tis said,Their Junos, Joves, Apollos;And man may brewHis nectar too,The rich receipts as follows:Take wine like this,Let looks of blissAround it well be blended;Then bring wit's beamTo warm the stream,And there's your nectar, splendid!So, wreathe the bowlWith flowers of soulThe brightest wit can find us;We'll take a flightTowards heaven tonight,And leave dull earth behind us!—Thomas Moore.
May every joy the traveler knows,Be yours upon the trip,May favoring winds fill out your sailsAnd safely speed your ship.May rest and recreation bringTheir meed of health and strengthWhile under alien skies you roam,Then homeward turn at length.
To those who have passed me on the highway and gave greeting,To the possible friends who have come my way, whose eyes lingered as they fell on mine,May they ever be eager with youth, and strong with fellowshipMay they never miss a welcome or want a comrade.—Marie McGee.
Here's to man, God's first thought.Here's to woman, God's second thoughtAs second thoughts are best—Here's to woman.Drink, for you know notWhence you came nor why;Drink, for you know not whyYou go, nor whence.—Omar Khayyam.
Here's to the press, the pulpit and the petticoat, the three ruling powers of the day. The first spreads knowledge, the second spreads morals, and the third spreads considerably.
Here's to the press, the pulpit and the petticoat, the three ruling powers of the day. The first spreads knowledge, the second spreads morals, and the third spreads considerably.
The Lord gave teeth to men, that they might eat,And then, to use them on, he gave us meat;But here's a health to that great man who tookAnd brought the two together—to the cook!
Here's a toast to the host who carved the roast; And a toast to the hostess—may none ever "roast" us.
The soldiers of America.Their arms our defense, our arms their reward;Fall in, men, fall in.
Here's to the chaperone,May she learn from CupidJust enough blindnessTo be sweetly stupid.—Oliver Herford.
If we drink to China, we drink the poison of the "Sick Man of the East;" if we drink to Italy, we put "The Boot" on the wrong foot; if we drink to Peru, we burn our lips on the equator; so let us drink to him who hath not harm in his heart, venom in his veins, nor flaw in his flag—Uncle Sam.
If we drink to China, we drink the poison of the "Sick Man of the East;" if we drink to Italy, we put "The Boot" on the wrong foot; if we drink to Peru, we burn our lips on the equator; so let us drink to him who hath not harm in his heart, venom in his veins, nor flaw in his flag—Uncle Sam.
Let us toast our huddled little brothers of the frigid North—the Esquimaux. They need it.
Far renowned for larnin' and piety,Still I'd advance ye widout impropriety,Father O'Flynn as the flower of them all.Here's a health to you, Father O'Flynn,Slainte and slainte and slainte agin.Pow'rfulest preacher and tenderest teacherAnd kindliest creature in ould Donegal.
To the stars and the stripes,To the land of our birth,The American girl—The best things on earth.
Here's to the lying lips we meet,For truthful lips are bores.But lying lips are very sweetWhen lying close to yours!—Smart Set.
Drink to Life and the passing show,And the eyes of the prettiest girl you know!
Drink, Drink, Drink!Drink to the girl of your heart;The wisest, the wittiest, the bravest, the prettiest;May you never be far apart.
Here's to the girl—With dash and whirl—Who rides about in an auto;Here's to the manWho'll bridle herTo ride about as she "ought to."
Here's to love, the only fire against which there is no insurance.
Here's to the lasses we've loved, my lad,Here's to the lips we've pressed;For of kisses and lassesLike liquor in glasses,The last is always the best.
To Woman—When she is neither too young to be wise, nor too old to be careful.—Minnie Thomas Antrim.
To Woman—A paradox who puzzles when she pleases and pleases when she puzzles.—Minnie Thomas Antrim.
Here's to her whose presence is ever and always near,Here's to her whose large brown eyes make life forever dear;Here's to her whose fair white skin is clear as the whitest snow,Here's to the sweetest of her sex—The finest girl I know!
Here's to the rim of my lady's glass,But tipped by her beautiful lip,And here's to the thrill that must certainly passFrom the rim to the base of that fortunate glassWhenever she takes a sip.—Bayard Bacon.
Here's health to you and wealth to you,Honors and gifts a thousand strong;Here's name to you and fame to you,Blessing and joy a whole life long.But, lest bright Fortune's star grow dim,And sometimes cease to move to you,I fill my bumper to the brimAnd pledge a lot of love to you!
I fill this cup to one made upOf loveliness alone,A woman, of her gentler sexThe seeming paragon.Her health! and would on earth there stoodSome more of such a frame,That life might be all poetry,And weariness a name.—Edward Coate Pinckney.
To my lady fairI fill my cup!To my lady fairWith the cheeks so rareWhere the dimples dareTo tarry;To her footsteps brightSo like the flightOf a swallow lightAnd airy—To my lady fairI fill my cup,To my lady fairI drink it up!—Bayard Bacon.
Oh, lovely woman! man's great baneAnd joy! You ne'er can pall!Source of all pleasure and all pain,And—bless you! worth it all!—Lewis.
Drink to fair woman, who, I think,Is most entitled to it;For if anything could ever drive me to drink,She certainly could do it.—B. Jabez Jenkins.
Here's to woman, lovely woman—Gladdest in her gladness when she's glad;Saddest in her sadness when she's sad;But her gladness when she's glad,And her sadness when she's sad,Aren't in it with her badness when she's bad.
I've toasted your eyes of blue, Marie,I've toasted your hair of brown;I've toasted your name with joyous gleeTo every man in town.I've done my best, so here's my plea.Fair lady of winsome frown,Could you decide to make for meMy toast of golden brown?
A slice of love; a piece of joy;A chunk of adoration;A sliver of unfailing health,And bridal concentration;An atom of the groom's content;The sweetness of the bride—And may the crumbs of comfortWith both of them abide.
She has planted a family tree that branches forever; let us drink to the dew of its roots and sip the April showers on its buds, and the golden sun that shall never cease to shine on its ripening fruit.
She has planted a family tree that branches forever; let us drink to the dew of its roots and sip the April showers on its buds, and the golden sun that shall never cease to shine on its ripening fruit.
Happy is the bride whom the sun shines on,And happy today are you;May all of the glad dreams you have dreamedIn all of your life come true;May every good there is in lifeStep down from the years to you.
Here's to the stork,A most valuable bird,That inhabits the residence districtsHe doesn't sing tunes,Nor yield any plumes,But he helps out the vital statistics.—Portland Oregonian.
Here's hoping that the little totWe christened at the waterMay live to take another nameAnd name another daughter.
We haven't all had the good fortune to be ladies; we have not all been generals, or poets, or statesmen; but when the toast works down to babies, we stand on common ground—for we've all been babies.—Samuel L. Clemens(Mark Twain).
We haven't all had the good fortune to be ladies; we have not all been generals, or poets, or statesmen; but when the toast works down to babies, we stand on common ground—for we've all been babies.—Samuel L. Clemens(Mark Twain).
To the hour he found his courage;To the smile that won his heartWith a little look of sweetnessAnd a dainty Cupid dart;To the bachelor's broken pledges;To the venial little sinThat he cannot do without her—To the girl that took him in.
Bring frost bring snow,Come winter; bring us hollyBring joy at Christmas,Off with melancholy.Sing ho, sing heyFor the holiday.
Sing hey for good Christmas cheerBut quaff one glassTo the days that passThe last of the grand Old Year.
Here's to the old year, drink boys, drink.Here's to the days that have fled.Old friends, old wine, old memories;Drink to the joys that are dead.Here's to the New Year stretching ahead,To the days that are blithesome and gay,May the joys of the old be the joys of the new,Its sorrows fade gently away.
Here's good-bye to the old year—Here's regret.It has done the best it could—Let's not forget.Here's greeting to the New Year—Hold out a hand.Let's do the best that we know how—Make a good stand.
A basket of Parma violets or of valley lilies makes a delightful gift to carry home to the children of the family after it has beautified a woman's luncheon table. Pale daffodils are exquisite in a grass green frame, and so on.
The bottom of each basket is fitted out with a tin plate filling it exactly. Upon this is placed the damp moss which keeps the blossoms fresh throughout the meal. The flowers are arranged in upright position to look exactly as if growing out from the wicker-work receptacle.
Centerpieces are either very low or very high. There seems to be no intermediate stage. A number of fashionable women whose table fashions are watched and copied still cling to the low bed of flowers which allows one to see the face of the vis-a-vis.
A charming centerpiece which smart florists are suggesting is of white hyacinths and violets. The violetsused are either of the pale double varieties or the large single flower—usually the latter.
Violets and hyacinths are not mingled. Either one-half of the centerpiece is formed of each with its own foliage, or large clusters of each are massed together. There is no scattering of the single blossoms.
As for the rose basket. It is entirely lovely. It is in use everywhere. It has one fault. It is sure to cut off one side of the table from the eyes of the other half. Women who must have what is newest use it for every kind of social entertaining—dinners, luncheons—wherever a table is used. More conservative hostesses have one for a wedding breakfast or other affair where there is no question of cutting off the view of any guest.
These baskets are really among the daintiest bits of table furniture that the florists have yet devised. Usually the body of the basket is more or less shallow. The handle curving over it is very high and carried out in some artistic design of wicker-work.
Long rose sprays are loveliest for filling these baskets. When well arranged the sprays appear to spring from the body of the basket, to climb wildly upward along the handle and to meet at the top in a mad tangle of spicy blossoms.
For decorations for a summer luncheon have a large gilt basket of white sweet peas in the center of the table and tiny baskets of gilt wicker filled with white sweet peas at each plate. For ice cream have a boat of plain vanilla filled with luscious fresh strawberries. Red raspberries, ripe peaches or any desiredfruit can be used to fill the boat. A pretty conceit would be to have the lower part of the boat of pistachio to represent the sea and the upper part vanilla.
A very effective centerpiece consists of a swinging basket supported by ribbons attached to the chandelier or the ceiling. The baskets, which are filled with cut flowers, are sometimes made of birch bark, and can be made without resorting to the aid of a professional. A square, shallow birch bark basket filled with pansies and suspended by means of yellow, violet or green ribbons is exquisite.
The smartest down-town flower shops are offering pussy willow boughs for table decoration. The soft, downy brown of the buds is often chosen for an entire luncheon decorative scheme, and nothing could be more delicious to the eye. The branches are cut long and are massed together in tall vases. Glass does nicely for this purpose, but porcelain—especially gray, blue or buff-colored porcelain—is ideal.
A masterpiece for the table is a combination of white sweet peas, and the feathery white gypsophilum. All decorations are made low, springing from almost invisible foundations, every leaf and every bloom asserting its individuality, and never were orchids more in demand. For those who cannot afford to invest in them the long iris intermixed with grasses will serve.
A unique and effective decoration for a luncheon table is made of long, narrow bouquets of white carnations, tied with bows of yellow satin ribbon and arranged so that the ribbons all meet in the center of the table, while the points are directed toward theguests. The effect is of a great golden-hearted daisy.
Violets, lovely as they are, do not make a pretty table decoration, being too dull in color. A few scattered in the finger bowls give an air of daintiness and bring with them a delicate fragrance.
For the centerpiece for the Thanksgiving dinner table, this day of days, take a toy wagon, the kind which represents a farm wagon is best, and place it in the center of the table on a mat of wild grasses and berries and fill it to overflowing with luscious fruits, peaches, grapes, oranges, lemons, apples, whatever your larder affords. Entwine the wheels and tongue with smilax or grape leaves. If one is in a city and can afford the expense one can buy one of the larger toy turkey candy boxes and harness it to the cart with red ribbons, or another pretty way is to buy a different sort of animal, or bird candy box for each guest and fasten it with gay ribbons to the front of the toy wagon. A doll dressed as a farmer in blue overalls and big straw hat can be placed on the seat for driver and hold the ribbons.
Another pretty centerpiece is a massive silver bowl, or a fancy Indian basket piled high with pretty fruits, nuts, nut burrs and the vine and berries of the bittersweet. If the dinner is to be late in the afternoon use Colonial candlesticks of brass or glass without shades. At each plate have a toy garden implement tied with a ribbon, the guests' names written on the ribbons.
The Colonial colors, blue and buff, can be usedin the celebration of Washington's Birthday. The floors in drawing-room, hall and dining-room are given an extra polish, and only candlelight from wax tapers in sconces, candelabra and Colonial candlesticks of brass allowed. For the table decorations take a long, narrow pasteboard box, round the ends, cover it smoothly with buff satin, and make a boat. Fill this with violets and yellow jonquils, resting on a sea of ferns in the center of the table. A tiny reproduction of the original Stars and Stripes made of silk and fastened to a gilded standard place in the prow of the boat. In one corner of the table have a miniature cherry tree with artificial cherries from the milliner's carefully wired on. On the opposite corner, diagonally, have an imitation stump with hatchet sticking in the wood. In the corresponding corners have white candles with shades in form of yellow jonquils.
Have simply a green plant in the center of the table, the pot being covered with a ruffle of green tissue paper tied with ribbon to match. Ferns or green leaves may be laid on the cloth around the little dishes holding nuts, olives and green candies.
Have a centerpiece of scarlet geraniums, poppies or nasturtiums, white geraniums, daisies, sweet peas and blue cornflowers. Or have a center basket of ferns, the handle tied with red, white and blue ribbons and tiny flags stuck in the ferns. Red and white and blue satin ribbons crossed on the tablecloth or a border offlags crossed in two's make a pretty table decoration. Or for the centerpiece use a large toy cannon decorated with flags. By the side of the cannon stack air guns or any sort of toy guns in stacks of three.
To decorate for Hallowe'en have in the center of the dining table a green jardiniere filled with red and yellow "button" chrysanthemums. Radiating from this have red and yellow ears of corn with green leaves between. At each corner of the table a jack-o-lantern and towards the center, baskets made of pumpkins full of red, green and yellow fruit. Cabbages and turnips hollowed out filled with chestnuts, and carrots used for candlesticks. All set upon mats of autumn leaves on a bare table. The effect is surprisingly artistic.
The centerpiece may consist of three wreaths joined together and laid along the "backbone" of the table. The central wreath must be considerably larger than the other two. All three may be of holly, or prettier still, the larger wreath of holly, the other two of some decorative ferns. In the center of each wreath is arranged a low flower bowl containing rich red carnations or roses.
One's dinner should be distinguished by that elusive element of informality, which tactfully introduced, is the making of a dinner, in quite the same proportion that its ineffectual simulation is the marring of the feast.
The housewife has many emergencies to face. How to work out of difficulties never met with before taxes all of her ingenuity. She must not allow her perplexity to appear if she is dealing with children or servants, as that would cause them to lose faith in her infallible wisdom.
Does company come in without warning and the sense of hospitality constrain one to invite them to lunch or dinner, the careful Martha is ready for the emergency, and if too late to send to market and what is prepared must be supplemented with something else, she has plenty of canned goods in her storeroom and improvises some dainty dish without a suggestion of flurry. If not so thoughtful she graciously serves her guest with what she has, and never by word or look implies that the call is inopportune.
The true "emergency mistress" is the quiet womanwhose friends characterize her as having "plenty of common sense." She stores her mind with useful knowledge and her pantry shelves with abundance of supplies; her work basket always has thread of all colors and needles of every size therein. She has patches to match every garment worn by her children.
The American eatertainer is prone to excess in the quantity which he offers to his guests. He does this out of a mistaken idea of hospitality, not from any fear of being called mean if he should give only a small repast.
As a rule a dinner should consist of not more than five or six chief courses, i. e., soup, fish,entree, roast and vegetable, each one served separately, followed by anentremetof some sort, and fruit.
The art of dinner-giving consists in properly combining such dishes as are appropriate to follow each other on the same evening. I have seen amenucomposed of turtle soup, salmon, venison and woodcocks, all excellent things in their way, but when brought together only leaving a sense of excessive oiliness and richness.
As anentreetherotishould consist of game, and vice-versa. The salad served with poultry and game should be green salad with a simple dressing of oil and vinegar. No set rules can be laid down.
It is true the caterer is an important element in the modern art of dinner-giving—he "saves all the trouble;" but he is a stereotyped quantity. You know just what he will serve, just how he will serve it, and how enthusiastically grateful you would be if he wouldoccasionally leave out croquettes, for instance, and surprise you with a less hackneyed delicacy.
Make no attempt to vary your usual bill of fare. Your guest will infinitely prefer the newness of your dishes to an imitation of her own. If you live in the country, the home-made bacon and ham will be a real treat; and a bass, fresh from the river, will be a revelation to one who has only eaten fish after it has been packed in ice. If you live in the city do not attempt to serve spring chicken to your country guest. It is impossible for a town chicken ever to become the tender, toothsome morsel she is used to at home. But the juicy steaks and roasts you are so tired of, are a treat she can seldom enjoy at her distance from markets.
Oriental sweetmeats have become so popular for afternoon tea tables in New York that many shops keep an extensive selection of these piquant novelties. Among the first favorites are candied Chinese oranges; dates, plums and other stone fruit crystallized by foreign processes and stuffed with nut mixtures; Turkish pastes and East Indian goodies of unpronouncable names.
When a plate is taken to be replenished always leave the knife and fork on it.
Don't drink green chartreuse. Take the yellow. Also beware of the man who takes sweet soda with his brandy, and a man who wants claret from the ice box.
Use your napkin with a finger behind it, drawing it around or across the mouth. Don't use it like a mop and your mouth as if it were the deck of a fishing sloop.
When two or more forks are at your plate, use the smaller one for fish, or whatever the first course may be. The steel knife is for meat. When you have finished, place the knife and fork on your plate crossing each other. Any good servant will know that you have finished.
Don't fold your napkin unless you are dining at home and intend using it again. And if you are entertaining guests, do not do it then, as you thus indicate that you are determined to save the washing of at least one bit of linen.
Tucking a napkin under the chin as if the user was now to be stuffed like a turkey, is in very bad taste. Lay your napkin across your lap. If it falls to the floor, quietly beckon the servant at a convenient time to restore it.
It is no longer the thing to perfume the water in finger glasses, or to offer thebowlswith slices of lemon in them. So many people have a positive objection to perfume of any kind that its use in this way is discontinued. The pretty Japanese custom of dropping a flower or flower petals in the glass is, however, growing in favor. Usually the flower chosen corresponds with those used in the centerpiece. A few rose petals floating in the clear water are most attractive. Two or three scented violets are charming. At a little luncheon given in honor of an English woman visiting in this country, each bowl contained a water lily.
Some time ago it was necessary to eat asparaguswith one's fingers, while to do so today would be to commit an unpardonable sin in the eyes of society.
Don't decorate with strong scented flowers.
Don't serve boiled fish without potatoes.
Don't serve hotentreeson cold plates.
Don't serve more than two vegetables with meat.
Don't serve asparagus with meat.
Don't force a guest to eat more than he wishes.
Don't apologize for the cook.
Don't make excuses for anything.
Don't mention the cost of any dish.
Don't talk politics or religion at dinner, where guests are of miscellaneous beliefs.
Don't pronouncemenu"may-nu," but "men-ue."
Don't pronounce the a long in "a la."
Don't decorate the table with too many flowers.
Don't place more than one plate at each place.
Don't use individual butter dishes.
Don't use the same knife for more than one course.
Don't use the same fork for more than one course.
Don't use a spoon for ices or ice-cream.
Don't serve peas, beans, cauliflower, etc., with meat.
Don't eat too much.
Don't eat too fast.
Don't eat too soon after exercise.
Don't eat much for breakfast.
Don't eat much when traveling.
Don't eat between meals.
Don't eat after 10 o'clock P. M.
Don't eat fish with a knife.
Don't eat ices with a spoon.
Don't eat boiled eggs from a tumbler.
Don't eat everything that you like.
Don't eat anything that you don't like.
Don't eat to please anyone but yourself.
Don't drink when over-heated.
Don't always drink when thirsty.
Don't drink ice-water with hot food.
Don't drink water from a city river.
Don't drink tea with meat.
Don't drinkcafe-au-laitfor dinner.
Don't drink beer after wine.
Don't drink wine after beer.
Don't drink much at meals.
Don't drink much between meals.
Don't serve oysters after fish.
Don't serve soup twice to any guest.
Don't use a knife for green salads.
Don't overload either the table or the guest with food.
Don't bite off a piece of bread.
Don't scold the servant at the table.
The host and hostess drink first from the loving cup, then the guest of honor drinks and then the others. The cup is passed around the table and each takes a sip and gives a sentiment or toast. If it is an affair given for a guest and not a wedding anniversary, the guest of honor drinks first and christens the cup, then the host and hostess and the guests drink. It is passed at the close of the dinner and may be wine, cider, claret cup or fruit punch.