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As he was so generous as to relate many
incidents of my boyhood that are to my
credit, it is- but a slight return to bear testi
mony to his own generosity and manliness of
character.
'l* V *s*
Who all were there? If we had a list of
the names, we would print it. To all who
came, I hope the occasion was a benefit; and
I trust that the memory will be a pleasure.
* * Hs
To the Thomson Camp of Confederate Vet
erans, and in behalf of The Jeffs’ family, I
return sincere thanks for the loan of their
flag.
TALKS TO YOUNG MEN
(CONCLUDED FROM PAGE NINE.)
filthiness. Shun it, by all means, for it is not
only disgusting but most offensive.
* * *
If the gas in your stomach results in the
uncontrollable “belch,” apologize to your
companions. Don’t fail to say, “Excuse me.”
That will set you right with the company,
who might otherwise consider you ill-man
nered. As often as the unwelcome sound es
capes you, repeat the “Excuse me.”
'»•
At table, never convey food to your mouth
on the knife. Use the fork, always. It is often
permissible to use your fingers: it is never so
to use your knife.
Nothing more quickly and conclusively
proves good, or ill-breeding, than “table man
ners.” Therefore, study to be agreeable as
possible, when eating in company. It won’t
be a mistake, if you practise the best form,
even when you are alone.
Don’t use the doyley as a handkerchief. It
is for your mouth and fingers. Never tuck it
in your shirt-collar, or waistcoat. It was
never intended as an apron or pinafore; and
it is bad form to so use it. The correct thing
is, to unfold the napkin as soon as you are
seated—and after the “Blessing,” if one is
asked—and place it upon your knee.
Use it, to clear your lips of the moisture of
soup, and of any clinging particle of food.
You may also use it to dry your fingers,
after they have been dipped in the finger
bowl.
It is assumed that you washed your hands
before the meal; and that nothing but your
fingers could have been greased, or otherwise
made uncomfortable or unsightly, while you
were taking food.
Never wash your hands in the finger-bowl :
just dip the fingers, and then wipe them. To
wash even the fingers is not permissible.
If any of the servants or fellow-guests makes
a blunder, or happens to an accident,you must
not notice it—much less laugh at it and speak
of it. Pretend not to have seen or heard; and
every well-bred person present will at once
put you down, as genteel.
Try to avoid dropping your knife or fork;
but if you should, do not express regret. It
will be taken for granted that it was an un
avoidable accident, for which no apology is
necessary. Say nothing, and do nothing. The
hostess will quickly send you another knife,
fork, or spoon, as the case may be; and the
servant wfill pick up and carry to the side
board whatever it was you let fall.
Reginald, you must not pour out the tea or
the coffee into the saucer. Wait for it to cool,
my boy, and then sip from the cup. No: you
must not blow it.
Miss Clara, you must not ask for a second
plate of soup. No, child; that is bad man
ners.
Where soup is to be served, there will
always be provided a large spoon, usually with
quite a depth and breadth of bowl. This
largest of all the spoons, placed next the plate,
is the one for the soup.
If your plate should be handed to another
part of the table to be “helped” to something
THE JEFFERSONIAN
during the meal, don't put your knife and
fork on it. Hold those in your hands or lay
them on the table until your plate returns.
Don’t eat fast; don’t eat noisily; don't take
too big a mouthful; and don't eat too much.
My sober and mature opinion is, that bad
cookery, unwise selection of food, and over
eating have “laid out” nearly as many men as
J. Barleycorn ever did.
It may drive this thought home, if I tell
you that I attribute my eternal youth and in
exhaustible virility to the fact that I eat so
little. Last fall, when making two or three
speeches a day, riding sometimes more than a
hundred miles in an open car to reach the
next appointment, besides doing my usual
amount of work on The J effs, a glass of milk
and a soft-boiled egg constituted my regular
meal. Often, it was the milk, without the
egg-
Never forget this:
Most people eat too much.
* * *
There used to be a rule which forbade you
to take the last biscuit, or whatever it was on
the plate. I am sure there is no sense in the
rule. It is your host who is to blame if the
supply of food on the dish runs so low; and
you are not guilty of any breach of etiquette
if, when you need another biscuit, piece of
bread, egg, slice of meat, or potato, you help
yourself to the last one. But, in such a case,
the host is much at fault.
Now here is a rule that may stump you :
Never offer the host and hostess any dish:
wait until you are so requested by one of them.
I have never seen this canon of tact and
good taste laid down anywhere, or heard it
mentioned by anybody, but my instinct
teaches me that it is correct.
Not until the host has expressly invited the
guests to “Help yourselves!” should any of
them touch any food on the table, much less
pass it back and forth to other guests.
It is the host who is supposed to offer you
the hospitality and the viands: for you to
offer him, unsolicited, some of his own pro
visions, is just as tactless as it would be to
ask him if he will please spend the night in
his own house. See?
The point is delicate, but I have always felt
that it was there.
Os course, if the host says, at the begin
ning, “Let us all be free and easy, and wait
on ourselves!” it is different.
In that event, it would be courteous to place
him on the footing of a fellow-guest. But
unless he does are guest and h# is
host. It is his part to have you served:, not
yours to serve him. He is feeding youj/ndt
you, him. 5.
I am sure the distinction is sound; and it
runs through the whole realm of hospitality.
Thus, the host either shows you to your room,
or has a servant to do it. You never think of
showing the host to his.
Use your fingers w’hen breaking the bread,
or taking a biscuit; use your fork, when help
ing yourself to meat. The host should furnish
to each dish, a spoon; to each platter, a fork;
to each butter-dish, a knife. Use these, and
not your own spoon, knife and fork.
Don’t O! don't pick your teeth at the table.
And remember what I said about sniffling.
If you have the habit, list it with your New
Year “sw’ear-offs.”
Kidnappers Fare Harder in Penn
sylvania Than in Georgia
The following item of news may serve to
point a moral, if not to adorn a tale:
Alleged Kidnapper Will Ask for Pardon.
Pittsburg, Pa., Dec. 13. —Helen Boyle, who is
serving a 25-year term in the Western peniten
tiary for her connection with the kidnapping of
Willie Whitla, will ask for a pardon on the
ground that she was convicted for a crime com
mitted in Ohio, having taken care of the stolen
boy at her apartment in Cleveland, while the
search was on.
My Sakes Alive!
Preacher named Clarence E. McKelvey, in
charge of the Methodist church at Navesink,
New Jersey, referred to some of his sisters in
Christ as “old hens.”
As if this wasn’t the limit, he described
some of the brothers in the Lord as “tight
wads.”
Now, I put it to you—how could any con
gregation be expected to put up with any such
verbiage? The more truth there was in it,
the more insufferable it was.
The hens and the wads combined their in
dignant forces, and voted Clarence out of his
job.
But he says that it wasn't worth keeping,
anyway. Claims that they haven’t paid him
but sls since last September, and that even
this came in driblets.
Clarence is unreasonable: how could he
expect anything more from a little place that
has to give so much to Foreign Missions?
* ❖ *
Dago, named Joseph Allegretto, who had
not been in this country long enough to know
the lingo, or the general lay of the land, was
out, looking for a job, on Christmas day.
Friend told him that if he would wallop
one of those big New York policemen, he
would “sure” get a job.
“How do I manage it?” Joseph inquired,
in Italian.
Friend answered, in same tongue,
“You just go up to one of them, say ‘Merry
Christmas!’ and then whip him.”
Joseph immediately looked for the nearest
Cop, approached him, and saying “Merry
Christmas!” in Italian, lammed him on the
eye, knocking him down.
Policeman rose, and was again knocked
down.
But something went wrong with Joseph’s
dirigible, and he failed to follow’ up his
advantage.
Swuft, is the name of the policeman, and
he lived up to it. It was he who got in the
next blow; and he soon had the Dago suf
ficiently thrashed.
Then he led him before the (court:
Joseph told His honor why he had done it,
and wound up with the plaintive question—
“ When do I get the job?”
His Honor replied:
“I can give’ yen one now. for at least a
year'’—an<Uhs did. It came in the way of a
sentence,to. the pen.
> *
r x■ * * *
Fascinated by the name, a woman ex
changed sensible entrimmins to become
Mistress Huggins. Discovered when too late
that the man construed his name literally, and
that other women besides herself knew how’
v’ell he did it.
Sued for and obtained a divorce.
But some women never learn anything;
and so, this, one went off to Freeport and
married a man named Bertie.
As if a man called Bertie could possibly
be an improvement on one named Huggins.
* * *
A Missouri J. P. has reduced the charges
for splicing eager couples to the ridiculously
low sum of $1.98.
Would mention his name and place of busi
ness —only it is not desirable that Missouri
should hog all the trade.
* * *
Woman, silly thing! married a man named
Catlett.
Man, gay sport! went off Somewheres, and
stayed—leaving his wife to guess where he
had gone.
Mizzes Catlett grew T aweary of waiting for
hubby’s return; and so “heard” that he was
dead.
Having “heard” this pleasant bit of news,
she -went and married a person named Car
max. Apparently, she had a notion that, so
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