LITTLE men in authority, as a rule, are on the look-out for small occasions on which to show their importance, while in matters of any magnitude they readily yield the lead to others.
THE man of sense never does anything simply for flourish, to show off, for “splurge.” He never makes presents to any one that he cannot abundantly afford to make. He never goes to any expense that his means do not justify. He assumes that those with whom he associates, that he entertains, that he extends civilities to are sensible people, and he remembers that sensible people always look upon every kind of ostentation as vulgar.
A RECENT writer on the amenities of social intercourse says: “Don’t say ‘Miss Susan’ or ‘Miss Mary.’ This strictly is permissible with servants only. Address young ladies by their surname, with prefix of _Miss_, except when in a family of sisters a distinction must be made, and then give the name in full.” On this injunction, the breezy little St. Louis _Spectator_ comments, with as much sense as humor, essentially, thus: “I think that such a rule of etiquette as this is rather Utopian when one considers the impossibility of its practical enforcement. Suppose, for instance, that Mr. Blank is playing whist with three sisters of the Turtletack family, when suddenly Miss Sempronia Turtletack asks:
“‘Clubs, Miss Sempronia Turtletack,’ answers Mr. Blank.
“‘Quite sure. I led a small club, Miss Theodosia Turtletack followed suit with a small card, Miss Elvira Turtletack played her king, and you, Miss Sempronia Turtletack, trumped.’”
It is hardly possible that any such custom as this exists in any circle of society in any country; but if such a custom does anywhere exist, it is in a circle so starched and stayed that it would be difficult for an every-day mortal to breathe in it, and so stilted and stupid that no sensible mortal would want to breathe in it.
I GO out of my way to give the following extract wider publicity, but there is so much in it that many persons would do well to take to heart, that I cannot resist the temptation to reprint it. I find it in _Our Continent_, and it is from the facile pen of Mrs. Louise Chandler Moulton.
“Good breeding, like charity, should begin at home. The days are past when children used to rise the moment their parents entered the room where they were and stand until they had received permission to sit. But the mistake is now made usually in the other direction of allowing to small boys and girls too much license to disturb the peace of the household. I think the best way to train children in courtesy would be to observe toward them a scrupulous politeness. I would go so far as to say that we should make it as much a point to listen to children without interrupting them and to answer them as sincerely and respectfully as if they were grown up. And indeed many of their wise, quaint sayings are far better worth listening to than the stereotyped commonplaces of most morning callers. Of course, to allow uninterrupted chatter would be to surrender the repose of the household, but it is very easy, if children are themselves scrupulously respected, to teach them in turn scrupulously to respect the convenience of others, and to know when to talk and when to be silent.