F AT HOME"

XV. "AS THE TWIG IS BENT"

XVI. SOCIAL YOUNG AMERICA

XVII. THE AMERICAN CHAPERONE

XVIII. GREETINGS. RECOGNITIONS. INTRODUCTIONS

XIX. BEHAVIOR IN PUBLIC THOROUGHFARES

XX. IN PUBLIC ASSEMBLIES

XXI. BEARING AND SPEECH

XXII. SELF-COMMAND

XXIII. A FEW POINTS ON DRESS

XXIV. PERSONAL HABITS

XXV. SOCIAL CO-OPERATION

XXVI. ON THE WING

XXVII. ETIQUETTE OF GIFTS

XXVIII. GALLANTRY AND COQUETRY

XXIX. IN CONCLUSION

INTRODUCTION

As a rule, books of etiquette are written from the standpoint of the
ultra-fashionable circle. They give large space to the details of
behavior on occasions of extreme conventionality, and describe minutely
the conduct proper on state occasions. But the majority in every town
and village are people of moderate means and quiet habits of living, to
whom the extreme formalities of the world of fashion will always remain
something of an abstraction, and the knowledge of them is not of much
practical use except to the few who are reflective enough to infer
their own particular rule from any illustration of the general code.

Though it is interesting as a matter of information to know how a state
dinner is conducted, still, as a matter of fact, the dinners usually
given within this broad zone of "the average" are served without the
assistance of butler, footman, or florist; innocent of wines and minus
the more elaborate and expensive courses; and though served _a la
Russe_ the service is under the watchful supervision of the hostess
herself and executed by the more or less skillful hand of a demure
maid-servant. Yet, in all essential points, the laws of etiquette
controlling the conduct of this simple dinner of the American democrat
are the same as those observed in the ceremonious banquet of the
ambitious aristocrat. The degree of formality varies; the quality of
courtesy is unchanging.

Well-mannered people are those who are at all times thoughtfully
observant of _little_ proprieties Such people do not "forget their
manners" when away from home. They eat at the hotel table as daintily
and with as polite regard for the comfort of their nearest neighbor as
though they were among critical acquaintances. They never elbow
mercilessly through crowded theatre aisles, nor stand up in front of
others to see the pictures of a panorama, nor allow their children to
climb upon the car seats with muddy or rough-na