in a circle the circumference of which is forty-two yards.

A. What is the diameter of the circle?
B. How fast is the current flowing in the stream?
C. At what point would the swimmer land if there were no current
in the stream?
D. At what point does the swimmer actually land?
E. But suppose that he has no bathing suit on?

And so, when the young person has reached the age for his first formal
dinner party, he will undoubtedly be able to handle the fundamentals of
correct etiquette in a satisfactory manner. But, as in every sport or
profession, there are certain refinements--certain niceties which
come only after long experience--and it is with a view of helping the
ambitious diner-out to master these more complex details, that I suggest
that he study carefully the following "unwritten laws" which govern
every dinner party.

In the first place, a guest is supposed tacitly to consent to the menu
which the hostess has arranged, and the diner-out who makes a habit of
saying "Squab, you know, never agrees with me--I wonder if I might have
a couple of poached eggs," is apt to find that such squeamishness does
not pay in the long run.

Practical jokes are never countenanced at a formal affair of this sort.
I do not mean that a certain amount of good-natured fun is out of place,
but such "stunts" as pulling the hostess' chair out from under her--or
gleefully kicking the shins of your neighbor under the table and
shouting "Guess who?"--are decidedly among the "non-ests" of correct
modern dinner-table behaviour.

Then, too, it is now distinctly bad form to practise legerdemain
or feats of sleight-of-hand at a dinner party. Time was when it was
considered correct for a young man who could do card or other tricks to
add to the gayety of the party by displaying his skill, but that time
is past, and the guest of today, who thinks to make a "hit" by pulling a
live rabbit or a potted plant from the back of the mystified hostess or
one of the butlers, is in reality only making a "fool" of himself if
he only knew it. The same "taboo" also holds good as concerns feats of
juggling and no hostess of today will, I am sure, ever issue a second
invitation to a young man who has attempted to enliven her evening by
balancing, on his nose, a knife, a radish, a plate of soup and a lighted
candle. "Cleverness" is a valuable asset but only up to a certain
point, and I know of one unfortunately "clever" young chap who almost
com