training in my youth it is not at all strange that
I now consider myself rather an adept in the prevailing social
usages. At a musicale I applaud fit to blister my hands, even though
I feel positively pugnacious. But I know the singer has an encore
prepared, and I feel that it would be ungracious to disappoint her.
Besides, I argue with myself that I can stand it for five minutes
more if the others can. Professor James, I think it is, says that we
ought to do at least one disagreeable thing each day as an aid in the
development of character. Being rather keen on character
development, I decide on a double dose of the disagreeable while
opportunity favors. Hence my vigorous applauding. Then, too, I
realize that the time and place are not opportune for an expression
of my honest convictions; so I choose the line of least resistance
and well-nigh blister my hands to emphasize my hypocrisy.

At a formal dinner I have been known to sink so low into the depths
of hypocrisy as to eat shrimp salad. But when one is sitting next to
a lady who seems a confirmed celibate, and who seems to find nothing
better than to become voluble on the subject of her distinguished
ancestors, even shrimp salad has its uses. Now, under normal
conditions my perverted and plebeian taste regards shrimp salad as a
banality, but at that dinner I ate it with apparent relish, and tried
not to make a wry face. But, worst of all, I complimented the
hostess upon the excellence of the dinner, and extolled the salad
particularly, although we both knew that the salad was a failure, and
that the dinner itself convicted the cook of a lack of experience or
else of a superfluity of potations.

When the refreshments are served I take a thimbleful of ice-cream and
an attenuated wafer, and then solemnly declare to the maid that I
have been abundantly served. In the hallowed precincts that I call
my den I could absorb nine rations such as they served and never bat
an eye. And yet, in making my adieus to the hostess, I thank her
most effusively for a delightful evening, refreshments included, and
then hurry grumbling home to get something to eat. Such are some of
the manifestations of social hypocrisy. These all pass current at
their face value, and yet we all know that nobody is deceived. Still
it is great fun to play make-believe, and the world would have
convulsions if we did not indulge in these pleasing deceptions. In
the clever little book "Molly