Part 17

When bidding good-bye to a lady after an "open-air" conference, when the hat has been worn. Punctilious etiquette requires a man to stand with head uncovered in the presence of ladies, until requested to replace the hat. But in our changeable climate, the risk of "taking cold" suggests the good sense of wearing the hat out-of-doors, and allowing the graceful lifting of the same at greeting and parting to express all the deference that the uncovered head is meant to symbolize.

The greater the crowd, the shorter the range at which greetings are exchanged. One might "halloo" to an old acquaintance forty rods distant, down a country lane; but on Broadway he bows only to the ones whom he meets point blank.

If two friends meet and pause to shake hands, they should step aside from the throng, and not blockade the sidewalk. Ladies should make these pauses very brief, and beware of entering into exhaustive interchanges of family news. Two men may linger, if they choose, and hold a few moments' conversation. But if a man meets a lady, and wishes to chat with her, he should, after greeting her, ask permission to join her, and walk with her for a short distance; he should by no means detain her standing on the sidewalk. He should not accompany her all the way to her destination, nor prolong such a casual conversation beyond a few moments. He should leave her at a corner, and lift his hat respectfully as he bids her good-bye.

If several people walking together on a sidewalk of average width meet other groups of promenaders, both parties should fall into single line as they pass, allowing each group a fair share of the walk. This is especially incumbent when on a narrow crossing. It is very rude for groups of three or more to walk abreast without heeding the people whom they meet, and often crowding the latter off the curbstone. Young girls are sometimes very thoughtless in this matter. "Turn to the right, as the law directs" is an injunction that holds good for the crowded sidewalk.

If one, walking briskly, overtakes slower walkers ahead, and the crowd allows no space to get past them, one should watch for a chance to slip through a gap in the phalanx, rather than "elbow through." If no chance seems likely to occur, and haste is imperative, a polite man has no recourse but to step outside the curb and walk rapidly ahead, returning to the sidewalk a few paces in advance. A lady similarly hurried may slip through a small space, if one offers, with an apologetic "I beg pardon." But in no case should pushing be resorted to. It is very unmannerly for a party of loiterers to string themselves thus across the width of a sidewalk, and then saunter slowly, regardless of the fact that they are impeding the progress of busier people. A policeman should call their attention to the fact.

If the sidewalk is "blocked" by an orderly crowd, as it frequently is on the occasion of parades and other public demonstrations, a man may push his way through gently, saying, "I beg pardon" to those whom he is compelled to jostle. The fine breeding of a gentleman never shows more conspicuously than in his manner of getting through a crowd. The beauty of it is, or, perhaps, I might say, the utility of it is, that courtesy in such a case is very much more effective than "bluff," for the majority in an orderly crowd are inclined to be obliging, and quickly respond to a good-humored request; whereas, if one aggressive elbow begins to push, a hundred other elbows are set rigidly akimbo, and the solid mass becomes ten-fold more unyielding than before.

If accosted by a stranger with a request for information as to streets, directions, etc., one should kindly reply, and, if not able to give the desired information, should, if possible, direct the stranger where to make further inquiries. Cheerful interest in the perplexities of a bewildered sojourner in the city costs nothing and is always highly appreciated. Only a pessimist or a snob would dismiss such a question curtly.

If a lady's dress has been torn, or trimming or braid ripped and left trailing after contact with the nails in a packing-box on the sidewalk, or from some similar accident, it is polite to call her attention to the disaster. A gentleman may do this with perfect propriety if he sees that she is not aware of it. He should preface the information with "Pardon me," and should lift his hat, as always when offering any civility.

When attending to business at banks, post-office, railroad ticket-offices, etc., one should pay no attention to other people, further than to guard against allowing one's absorbing interest in one's own affairs to make one regardless of the just rights of others in the matter of "turn" at ticket or stamp windows, or in the use of the public desk, pens, etc.--trifling tests of good manners that distinguish the well-bred, and which illustrate very pointedly the truth that selfishness is always vulgar, and that an unfailing habit of considering other people's comfort is a mark of gentle breeding.

A lady should say "Thank you" to a gentleman who gives up a seat to her in a street-car or other public conveyance, where, having paid for a seat, he has a right to it, and his voluntary relinquishment of it is a matter of personal courtesy on his part. The woman who slides into a place thus offered without acknowledging the obligation is very thoughtless, or else she has erroneous ideas of how far chivalry is bound to be the slave of selfishness. If the lady is accompanied by a gentleman, he, too, should say "Thank you," and lift his hat. He should also be thoughtful not to take the next vacated seat himself without first offering it to the polite stranger.

A young woman, strong and well, may properly give up her seat to a fragile woman, or a mother with a baby, or to an elderly man or woman.

Young ladies of leisure, who are not weary, should not be too ready to "oust" tired clerks and laboring men whose ride home at six o'clock is their first chance to sit down, for ten hours. A gentleman is chivalrous; and there is a corresponsive quality in a lady, which makes her delicately sensitive about unjustly imposing on that chivalry, or which, in emergencies of sickness or disaster, enables her to be the chivalrous in spirit, and bear on her slender shoulders the burden that is temporarily dropped when some stroke of Providence lays the strong man low.

On the other hand, there are women of coarse fibre, who imagine that they vastly increase their own importance by being selfishly exacting in the matter of men's self-sacrificing attentions. They may browbeat the men who are in their power; but, outside of this narrow world of their own, they are held in thorough contempt by the very men whose admiration they had hoped to gain by their aggressive and ill-tempered demands.

Men who smoke on the street should avoid the crowded promenade, where ladies "most do congregate;" since it is nearly impossible to avoid annoying some one with the smoke.

In most towns, the Board of Health ordinance forbidding spitting on floors, sidewalks, etc., is not only a hygienic safe-guard, but a much needed enforcement of good manners. Comment is superfluous.

Based upon an idea borrowed from olden days--that the right arm, the "sword arm," should be free for defense--a custom formerly prevailed for a man, walking with a lady, to place her always at his left side. Then later--also with some idea of shielding her from danger--it was the custom for a man to walk next to the curbstone, whether it happened to be left or right. This is still the rule, unless the sidewalk is crowded; in which case a man walks at the side next the opposing throng, in order to shield a lady from the elbows of the passers-by.

Authorities are divided on the subject of elevator etiquette, some denouncing in round terms the man who is so rude as to keep his hat on in an elevator where there are ladies; arguing that the elevator is a "little room," an "interior," not a thoroughfare. Others are equally emphatic in asserting that the elevator is a thoroughfare, merely; and that hats are not to be removed, except under the same conditions that would call for their removal in the street--as the greeting of acquaintances, or the exchange of civilities. The good sense of this view is apparent. A hat held in the hand in a crowded elevator is sure to be in the way, and liable to be crushed. A gentleman who wishes to compromise between stolid ignoring of the ladies who are strangers, and superfluous recognition of their presence, may lift his hat and replace it immediately, when a lady enters the elevator, or when he enters an elevator where ladies already are. Such a courtesy differs from a greeting in this: a stranger offering this elevator civility does not look at the lady, nor does he bend his head; and his lifted hat is an impersonal tribute to the sex. A lady makes no response to such a courtesy; yet there is in her general bearing a subtle something, hard to describe, but which every gentleman will readily recognize, that shows whether or not she observes and appreciates his little act of deference. The atmosphere of good manners may be as invisible as the air about us; but we know when we are breathing it.

During a promenade in the day-time, a lady does not take a man's arm unless she is feeble from age or ill-health, and needs the support. In the evening, a gentleman walking with a lady may offer her his arm. On no account should a man take a woman's arm. This is a disrespectful freedom, that might be supposed to be the specialty of the rustic beau, if it were not so frequently observed in city thoroughfares.

The "cut direct" is the rudest possible way of dropping an acquaintance; and is allowable only in the case of some flagrant offender who deserves public and merciless rebuke. Ordinarily, the result sought--of ending an undesired acquaintance--is attained by a persistently cold courtesy, supplemented by as much avoidance as possible; drifting apart, not sinking each other's craft without warning.

As crowds are distracting, and people bent on their own errands are often oblivious of their surroundings, it is quite possible for a seeming cut to have been an unconscious oversight. When an acquaintance seems not to see one, though close at baud, it is possible that something closer yet to his consciousness is absorbing all his thoughts. Only clear and unmistakable evidence of intention should lead one to infer a slight. It is not only more polite, but more self-respecting, to "take offense" slowly.

IN PUBLIC ASSEMBLIES

At the theatre or opera, at concerts, or popular lectures, at "commencements," and other prosperous and happy public entertainments, a certain gayety of manner may be in harmony with the occasion; but it should be under control, a smiling cheerfulness, not a free-and-easy jollity. Before the play, or the programme, begins, social conversation is usually allowable in quiet tones that do not disturb the surrounding people. A gentle hum of lively voices is not an unpleasant overture on such occasions. But the moment the orchestra begins, if at the theatre, or the instant that the meeting is called to order by any initial feature of the programme, silence should fall upon the assembly, and not a whisper be heard. Polite attention should be given to each feature of the hour. Programmes should be folded and arranged for easy reference before the exercises begin, so that no rustling of papers shall mar the effect of the music, or interfere with the speakers or listeners. The noisy handling of programmes is a most exasperating exhibition of thoughtlessness, and can easily be avoided by a little caution.

It should be accounted a matter of good form not to be late in arriving at the theatre, opera, etc. People sometimes think that because their seats are secured by their ticket-coupons, it makes no difference whether they are in their places before the curtain rises or not. But it is inconsistent for people who would be thought to be well-mannered, to inflict on others so much annoyance as is the result of coming late and making a commotion arranging seats, etc., after a drama is in progress, or a lecture or concert begun. When this happens, it should be the rare and unavoidable accident of detention, not the habitual and perhaps even ostentatious custom that it seems to be with some people. The noise about the swing-doors, and the rustle in the aisles, the banging of hinged seats, and the occasional parley with the usher, render the seats under the galleries practically valueless during the first half of the performance, since the speakers cannot be heard in the midst of the confusion. The "sense" of the opening act being lost, the entire play is marred simply because forty or fifty people are ten or fifteen minutes late. If managers would combine and agree to order the doors closed several minutes before the performance begins, it would soon remedy the trouble, and a host of patrons would applaud their course. The most aggravating thing about annoyances of this kind is that they are inflicted by the very few, and suffered by the very many.

In crowded theatres and lecture halls, heavy coats and wraps must be disposed within each owner's own territory. They should not lie over the top of the seat or bulge over into the adjoining seats to encroach upon other people. Nor should the owner of a big overcoat double it up into a cushion and sit upon it, to raise himself six inches higher, to the disadvantage of the person seated back of him--a selfish preparation to see the sights which we sometimes observe, even in the parquet centre.

The fashion, now almost universal, of removing hats at all spectacular entertainments, does away with what was formerly a conspicuous source of annoyance. For awhile this downfall of view-obstructing millinery promised a "square deal" to the occupants of the back rows. But of late vanity has re-asserted itself in the guise of elaborate hair-dressing, until the aigrette and the bow have become as great an imposition as was their predecessor, the flaring hat. This evasion of the issue will be more difficult to control by public prohibition. It remains for the polite woman to avoid adopting, for such occasions, the towering head-dress that evokes not admiration but execration from the people seated behind her. No woman need risk annoying others in order to be attractive herself; there are numerous styles that are both unobtrusive and becoming. Moreover, the woman in good society has ample opportunity to exhibit her elaborate coiffure at private social functions.

People who wish to leave the theatre between the acts should make it a point to secure end seats and not scrape past half a dozen other people three or four times during the performance. If it is necessary to trouble other people to rise and step aside to allow one to take or to leave his seat, the person thus obliged should preface the action with "I beg pardon," or "May I trouble you to allow me to pass;"--and should acknowledge the obligation by saying "Thank you." This may not lessen the inconvenience to other people, but it may mollify the feeling of irritability that such things naturally arouse.

It ought to be superfluous to say that talking aloud, or continuous whispering during the progress of a play or opera or concert, usually on topics foreign to the occasion, is a rudeness to the performers and a bold impertinence to the rest of the audience. Some people are guilty of this insolence wittingly and unblushingly. For such we have no word of advice. Such instances should be met by something more effective than "gentle influence." But many, especially young people, talk and laugh thoughtlessly, and from mere exuberance of animal spirits. It is to be hoped that on pausing to reflect they will carefully avoid forming a habit of public misbehavior that will ultimately rank them in the social scale as confirmed vulgarians. An intelligent listener never interrupts. Between the scenes of a play, or the successive numbers of a concert programme, there are pauses long enough for a brief exchange of comment between two friends who are sharing an entertainment, and they may enjoy the pleasure of thus comparing notes without once disturbing the order of the time and place.

At a spectacular entertainment, it is very rude for those in front to stand up in order to see better, thus cutting off all view for those back of them. The disposition to do this is very strong in rural audiences, where the flat floor of the school-house or hall gives little chance for the observers seated back of the first few "rows." But one may better lose part of the "tableau" on the stage than to furnish another one on the floor of the house.