f plated ware, but it should be
inconspicuous in style and not too profuse in quantity, since its
utility, rather than its commercial value, should be suggested. Any
ostentation in the use of plated ware is vulgar. But one may take a
pride and satisfaction in the possession of solid silver. Every
ambitious housekeeper will devise ways of securing, little by little,
if not all at once, a neat collection of solid spoons and forks. The
simplest table takes on dignity when graced with these "sterling"
accompaniments. The fancy for collecting "souvenir" spoons, one at a
time, suggests a way to secure a valuable lot of spoons without feeling
the burden of the expense. Yet, on the other hand, these spoons are
much more expensive than equally good plain silver, the extra price
being paid for the "idea;" but the expenditure is worth while to those
who value historical associations. One may find in the silver-basket
salient reminders of all important epochs in our national life, a sort
of primer of United States history, to say nothing of the innumerable
"souvenirs" of Europe. Its subtle testimony to the intelligent taste
of its owner gives the souvenir collection its chief "touch of
elegance."

The towering "castor," once the central glory of the dinner table, is
out of style. The condiments are left on the sideboard, and handed
from there in case any dish requires them, the supposition being that,
as a rule, the several dishes are properly seasoned before they are
served. Individual salt-cellars are placed on the table, and may be
accompanied with salt spoons; if these are omitted, it is understood
that the salt-cellar is emptied and refilled each time that it is used.
On the family dinner-table the condiment line is not so severely drawn;
vinegar in cut-glass cruets, mustard in Satsuma pots, and individual
"peppers"--in silver, china, or glass, and of quaint designs--are
convenient and allowable.

A table covered with white damask, overlaid with sparkling china and
cut-glass, and reflecting the white light of polished silver, is a
pretty but lifeless sight. Add one magic touch--the centre-piece of
flowers--and the crystallized beauty wakes to organic life.

In arranging the modern dinner-table, when the service is to be _a la
Russe_, floral decorations are almost indispensable. Without something
attractive for the eye to rest upon, the desert stretch of linen looks
like the white ghost of famine mocking the feas