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At a house party every lady of prominence is sure to bring at least one Pomeranian dog. Many think it wiser to bring a black and a brown, so that, no matter what gown they may wear, one of the darlings is sure not to clash with it. These pets are, of course, extremely expensive. A smart week-end on the Hudson will usually average about six thousand dollars’ worth of Poms.
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In nearly all guest rooms the hostess is sure to provide white enamel writing desks, chiffoniers, and tables. By leaving lighted cigarettes on such articles of furniture you are almost certain to secure a very curious and amusing stain, or burn. Sometimes, if your visit is long enough, you can etch, in this way, a complete pattern around a fair-sized table. The Greek fret and egg-and-dart designs are neat and extremely popular.
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The passage through a country house of the framed photograph of a friend is often an instructive spectacle to witness. Such a trophy usually begins its career in the drawing-room. It is then moved to the library, and subsequently to the smoking room. After that it begins a heavenly flight into one of the guest rooms, from which place it ascends on its last earthly pilgrimage to the attic.
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The English have rather a clever way of “chucking” a week-end engagement in the country. They merely telegraph as follows:
“Impossible to come to-day: lie follows by mail.”
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An unprotected lady should be careful not to employ convivial or tippling butlers. We are acquainted with a widow who was recently petrified with horror when her drunken butler entered her sleeping apartment in the dead of the night and proceeded to lay the table for six—upon her bed.
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Sunday morning in the country is usually rainy. This is invariably the fault of the hostess. When you descend in the morning, look at her reproachfully; mention the rain; remark on the fact that it has always rained when you have visited her before; sink hopelessly on a sofa, and sigh.
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Hostesses very often have a distressing way of asking you how you slept. Under such circumstances it is permissible to speak the truth and to mention, quite frankly, the mosquitoes and the topographical whimsicalities of your bed.
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In a country house, if you find, on going up to your room to dress for dinner, that no studs have been put into your evening shirt, complain at once to the stud groom.
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Beware of inviting fashionable bachelors for the week-end unless you maintain an adequate ménage. The recent and distressing case of a lady (with but one spare room and a very small establishment) may serve as a terrible example.
Her visitor arrived rather late on a rainy night. His belongings looked like those of a traveling theatrical company, and included one forty horse power Mercedes car, a Swiss valet, a violin case, one trunk, two hat boxes, five pounds of bonbons, a fur overcoat, a photographic camera, a bag of golf clubs, a talking machine, two boxes of health cocoa, an Austrian chauffeur, an oxygen jar, two polo ponies, an air cushion, a wire-haired fox terrier, and a box of one hundred clay pigeons.
CONVERSATION
CONVERSATION
The conversation at a club should be simple and conventional. It is vulgar to go into long or prolix discussions. Only a few remarks are comme il faut, such as “Hello!” “Deuced cold!” “Have a drink?” “Who has a cigar?” “How about one rubber?”
Perhaps the safest and most refined remark for constant use is: “Waiter, take the orders.” Even this may be dispensed with—if you make certain to ring the bell.
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It is not modish to speak kindly to the servants either in your own or in other people’s houses. In addressing them, simply say: “A napkin,” “The cigars,” “Where the devil are my boots?” Remember that they “get even” in the servants’ hall.
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It is customary, in alluding to ladies in the ultra-fashionable set (provided they are not present) to speak of them by their pet names: “Birdie,” “Baby,” “Tessie,” “Posy”; but, when face to face with these ladies, the utmost formality had best be observed.
Manners for the Metropolis · The Wunder Library — complete classics, free to read, with narration.