Part 6

It is not now the custom to ask a lady across the table to take wine with you. It is expected that every lady will be properly helped to wine by the gentleman who takes her to the table, or who sits next to her. But if you are in company where the old custom prevails, it would be better breeding to follow the custom of the place, rather than by an omission of what your entertainer considers civility, to prove him, in face of his guests, to be either ignorant or vulgar. If either a lady or gentleman is invited to take wine at table, they must _never refuse_; if they do not _drink_, they need only touch the wine to their lips. Do not offer to help a lady to wine until you see she has finished her soup or fish.

Always wipe your mouth before drinking, as nothing is more ill-bred than to grease your glass with your lips.

Do not propose to take wine with your host; it is his privilege to invite you.

It is considered well bred to take the same wine as that selected by the person with whom you drink. When, however, the wine chosen by him is unpalatable to you, it is allowable to take that which you prefer, at the same time apologizingly saying, "Will you permit me to drink _claret_?" or whatever wine you have selected.

In inviting a lady to take wine with you at table, you should politely say, "Shall I have the pleasure of a glass of wine with you?" You will then either hand her the bottle you have selected, or send it by the waiter, and afterwards fill your own glass, when you will politely and silently bow to each other, as you raise the wine to your lips. The same ceremony is to be observed when inviting a gentleman.

On raising the first glass of wine to his lips, it is customary for a gentleman to bow to the lady of the house.

It is not customary to propose _toasts_ or to drink deep at a gentleman's family table. Lord Byron describes "a largish party," as "first silent, then talky, then argumentative, then disputatious, then unintelligible, then altogethery, then drunk." But this was "a largish party," which, it is to be hoped, was given at a tavern; for the man who drinks to intoxication, or to any considerable degree of _elevation_, at a gentleman's family table, ought never to expect to be invited a second time.

At dinner-parties which are given to gentlemen, for the purpose of conviviality, one may indulge in as much wine as he pleases, provided he does not get _drunk_, and make a nuisance of himself. Where drinking, and toasting, and bumpers, are the order of the feast, as at a public dinner, given in honor of a distinguished man, or at the inauguration of some public enterprise, far greater latitude is allowed, in all things, than on more private and select occasions.

In conclusion of our article on table etiquette, we quote from a recent English work, some humorous, but valuable hints:

"We now come to habits at table, which are very important. However agreeable a man may be in society, if he offends or disgusts by his table traits, he will soon be scouted from it, and justly so. There are some broad rules for behavior at table. Whenever there is a servant to help you, never help yourself. Never put a knife into your mouth, not even with cheese, which should be eaten with a fork. Never use a spoon for anything but liquids. Never touch anything edible with your fingers.

"Forks were undoubtedly a later invention than fingers, but as we are not cannibals, I am inclined to think they were a good one. There are some few things which you may take up with your fingers. Thus an epicure will eat even macaroni with his fingers; and as sucking asparagus is more pleasant than chewing it, you may, as an epicure, take it up _au naturel_. But both these things are generally eaten with a fork. Bread is, of course, eaten with the fingers, and it would be absurd to carve it with your knife and fork. It must, on the contrary, always be broken when not buttered, and you should never put a slice of dry bread to your mouth to bite a piece off. Most fresh fruit, too, is eaten with the natural prongs, but when you have peeled an orange or apple, you should cut it with the aid of the fork, unless you can succeed in breaking it. Apropos of which, I may hint that no epicure ever yet put a knife to an apple, and that an orange should be peeled with a spoon. But the art of peeling an orange so as to hold its own juice, and its own sugar too, is one that can scarcely be taught in a book.

"However, let us go to dinner, and I will soon tell you whether you are a well-bred man or not; and here let me premise that what is good manners for a small dinner is good manners for a large one, and _vice versa_. Now, the first thing you do is to sit down. Stop, sir! pray do not cram yourself into the table in that way; no, nor sit a yard from it, like that. How graceless, inconvenient, and in the way of conversation! Why, dear me! you are positively putting your elbows on the table, and now you have got your hands fumbling about with the spoons and forks, and now you are nearly knocking my new hock glasses over. Can't you take your hands down, sir? Didn't you, learn that in the nursery? Didn't your mamma say to you, "Never put your hands above the table except to carve or eat?" Oh! but come, no nonsense, sit up, if you please. I can't have your fine head of hair forming a side dish on my table; you must not bury your face in the plate; you came to show it, and it ought to be alive. Well, but there is no occasion to throw your head back like that, you look like an alderman, sir, _after_ dinner. Pray, don't lounge in that sleepy way. You are here to eat, drink, and be merry. You can sleep when you get home.

"Well, then, I suppose you can see your napkin. Got none, indeed! Very likely, in _my_ house. You may be sure that I never sit down to a meal without napkins. I don't want to make my tablecloths unfit for use, and I don't want to make my trousers unwearable. Well, now, we are all seated, you can unfold it on your knees; no, no; don't tuck it into your waistcoat like an alderman; and what! what on earth do you mean by wiping your forehead with it? Do you take it for a towel? Well, never mind, I am consoled that you did not go farther, and use it as a pocket-handkerchief. So talk away to the lady on your right, and wait till soup is handed to you. By the way, that waiting is the most important part of table manners, and, as much as possible, you should avoid asking for anything or helping yourself from the table. Your soup you eat with a spoon--I don't know what else you _could_ eat it with--but then it must be one of good size. Yes, that will do, but I beg you will not make that odious noise in drinking your soup. It is louder than a dog lapping water, and a cat would be quite genteel to it. Then you need not scrape up the plate in that way, nor even tilt it to get the last drop. I shall be happy to send you some more; but I must just remark, that it is not the custom to take two helpings of soup, and it is liable to keep other people waiting, which, once for all, is a selfish and intolerable habit. But don't you hear the servant offering you sherry? I wish you would attend, for my servants have quite enough to do, and can't wait all the evening while you finish that very mild story to Miss Goggles. Come, leave that decanter alone. I had the wine put on the table to fill up; the servants will hand it directly, or, as we are a small party, I will tell you to help yourself; but pray, do not be so officious. (There, I have sent him some turbot to keep him quiet. I declare he cannot make up his mind.) You are keeping my servant again, sir. Will you, or will you not, do turbot? Don't examine it in that way; it is quite fresh, I assure you; take or decline it. Ah, you take it, but that is no reason why you should take up a knife too. Fish, I repeat, must never be touched with a knife. Take a fork in the right and a small piece of bread in the left hand. Good, but----? Oh! that is atrocious; of course you must not swallow the bones, but you should rather do so than spit them out in that way. Put up your napkin like this, and land the said bone on your plate. Don't rub your head in the sauce, my good man, nor go progging about after the shrimps or oysters therein. Oh! how horrid! I declare your mouth was wide open and full of fish. Small pieces, I beseech you; and once for all, whatever you eat, keep your mouth _shut_, and never attempt to talk with it full.

"So now you have got a pate. Surely you are not taking two on your plate! There is plenty of dinner to come, and one is quite enough. Oh! dear me, you are incorrigible. What! a knife to cut that light brittle pastry? No, nor fingers, never. Nor a spoon--almost as bad. Take your fork, sir, your fork; and, now you have eaten, oblige me by wiping your mouth and moustache with your napkin, for there is a bit of the pastry hanging to the latter, and looking very disagreeable. Well, you can refuse a dish if you like. There is no positive necessity for you to take venison if you don't want it. But, at any rate, do not be in that terrific hurry. You are not going off by the next train. Wait for the sauce and wait for the vegetables; but whether you eat them or not, do not begin before everybody else. Surely you must take my table for that of a railway refreshment-room, for you have finished before the person I helped first. Fast eating is bad for the digestion, my good sir, and not very good manners either. What! are you trying to eat meat with a fork alone? Oh! it is sweetbread; I beg your pardon, you are quite right. Let me give you a rule: Everything that can be cut without a knife, should be cut with a fork alone. Eat your vegetables, therefore, with a fork. No, there is no necessity to take a spoon for peas; a fork in the right hand will do. What! did I really see you put your knife into your mouth? Then I must give you up. Once for all, and ever, the knife is to cut, not to help with. Pray, do not munch in that noisy manner; chew your food well, but softly. _Eat slowly._ Have you not heard that Napoleon lost the battle of Leipsic by eating too fast? It is a fact though. His haste caused indigestion, which made him incapable of attending to the details of the battle. You see you are the last person eating at table. Sir, I will not allow you to speak to my servants in that way. If they are so remiss as to oblige you to ask for anything, do it gently, and in a low tone, and thank a servant just as much as you would his master. Ten to one he is as good a man; and because he is your inferior in position, is the very reason you should treat him courteously. Oh! it is of no use to ask me to take wine; far from pacifying me, it will only make me more angry, for I tell you the custom is quite gone out, except in a few country villages, and at a mess-table. Nor need you ask the lady to do so. However, there is this consolation, if you should ask any one to take wine with you, he or she _cannot_ refuse, so you have your own way. Perhaps next you will be asking me to hob and nob, or _trinquer_ in the French fashion with arms encircled. Ah! you don't know, perhaps, that when a lady _trinques_ in that way with you, you have a right to finish off with a kiss. Very likely, indeed! But it _is_ the custom in familiar circles in France, but then we are not Frenchmen. _Will_ you attend to your lady, sir? You did not come merely to eat, but to make yourself agreeable. Don't sit as glum as the Memnon at Thebes; talk and be pleasant. Now you have some pudding. No knife--no, _no_. A spoon, if you like, but better still, a fork. Yes, ice requires a spoon; there is a small one handed you, take that.

"Say 'no.' This is the fourth time wine has been handed to you, and I am sure you have had enough. Decline this time if you please. Decline that dish too. Are you going to eat of everything that is handed? I pity you if you do. No, you must not ask for more cheese, and you must eat it with your fork. Break the rusk with your fingers. Good. You are drinking a glass of old port. Do not quaff it down at a gulp in that way. Never drink a whole glassful of anything at once.

"Well, here is the wine and dessert. Take whichever wine you like, but remember you must keep to that, and not change about. Before you go up stairs I will allow you a glass of sherry after your claret, but otherwise drink of one wine only! You don't mean to say you are helping yourself to wine before the ladies! At least, offer it to the one next to you, and then pass it on, gently, not with a push like that. Do not drink so fast; you will hurry me in passing the decanters, if I see that your glass is empty. You need not eat dessert till the ladies are gone, but offer them whatever is nearest to you. And now they are gone, draw your chair near mine, and I will try and talk more pleasantly to you. You will come out admirably at your next dinner with all my teaching. What! you are excited, you are talking loud to the colonel. Nonsense! Come and talk easily to me or to your nearest neighbor. There, don't drink any more wine, for I see you are getting romantic. You oblige me to make a move. You have had enough of those walnuts; you are keeping me, my dear sir. So now to coffee [one cup] and tea, which I beg you will not pour into your saucer to cool. Well, the dinner has done you good, and me too. Let us be amiable to the ladies, but not too much so."

CARVING.

Carving is an art which every parent should teach his sons and daughters. Nothing can be more disagreeable and unpleasant than to be placed before any particular dish without being able to help it properly. It is generally the case when the head of the family is a good carver; for he so objects to see things badly cut, that he prefers carving everything himself. We remember once, when very young, being invited to a large dinner, and we were placed before a ham. We began to hack this article, when the general, the founder of the feast, said to his servant, "Take that ham away from that young gentleman, and place it before some one who knows how to carve." From that moment we determined to achieve the art of carving, and after great difficulty we succeeded, and succeeded so well that once, in carving a hare, a clergyman, one of the guests, remarked what an excellent invention that of boning a hare was, we carved it with so much ease; but determined to have a joke at the expense of the clergyman, we laid down the knife and fork, and said, "Sir, we are surprised that you could express such an opinion, when it is well known that it has filled more jails and sent more men to the treadmill than any other thing you can name." "What, sir, taking the bones out of a hare?" "No, sir, 'boning' the hare first." No one can carve without practice, and consequently children ought to begin young, in order to acquire a thorough knowledge of the art. It is difficult to describe the method of carving, even with drawings or diagrams; but the reader who wishes to learn, may, by observing how good carvers proceed, and applying what he has seen to what he reads, with practice, soon become an adept.

And first, never stand up to carve; this is the greatest vulgarity, and even a very short man need not stand up. A little, deformed, hump-back friend of ours, used to give very good dinners; he carved well, and delighted in showing it, but he had a failing--always to have very large joints of meat before him. One day a stranger guest arrived late, dinner had been served, even soup and fish had been removed; the host was absolutely hidden behind an enormous round of beef, and the stranger saw nothing at the head of the table but the monstrous joint, round which a knife was revolving with wonderful rapidity. Steam was the subject of talk at the moment, and he exclaimed, "I did not know that you had brought steam to this perfection." "What perfection?" "Why, don't you see that round of beef is carved by steam." This was enough; it got the hunchback's steam up, and, jumping on the chair, he demanded who dare insult him in his own house; and it was with great difficulty that his friends could appease his wrath, and turn his steam off. Ever since the time of Adam, men and women have been prone to excuse themselves and lay the blame on others. Thus, a person who could not swim, complained bitterly of the want of buoyancy in the water; and another, who had frightfully mangled a leg of mutton in attempting to carve, declared that the sheep was deformed and had a bandy leg.

In France, at all large dinners, dishes are carved at the sideboard by a servant, and then handed round in small portions. It saves a great deal of trouble, and prevents the shower of gravy with which awkward carvers will often inundate the table-cloth, and sometimes their neighbors. It would be well if this custom was universal in America, where it is rare to find a good carver. In helping the soup, never say, "Will you let me assist you to some of this soup?" this is vulgar in the extreme. The word assist is not "selon les regles de la bonne societe," but simply, "Shall I send you some?" Now, any one can help soup. But then there are two ways, the right and the wrong. First, then, your soup plates should be held by the servant near the tureen, and you should judge the number you have to help by the quantity of soup you have, to avoid the possibility of consuming all your soup before you have helped your guests; give one spoonful of soup to each plate, and avoid by all means slopping the soup either into the tureen or over the table-cloth, or over the side of the plate, all of which are extreme vulgarities. And here we beg to say--notwithstanding Brummel having said, in speaking of some one with whom he could find no other fault, that he was a sort of fellow who would come twice to soup,--that, if very good, it is not vulgar to eat twice of it; but, _au contraire_, if not good, the worst possible taste.

The next thing in order is fish. Now, of fish there are several sorts; the first of the large sorts being

SALMON, the shape of which every one knows; but few people have a whole salmon at table. The fish should be served always on a strainer, covered with a small dinner napkin, and the cook should be careful that it be sent to table whole and unbroken. It should be laid on its side, and garnished with fried smelts; it should be cut with the trowel, or fish-knife, immediately down the middle of the side, and helped from the centre to the back, one slice back and a small slice towards the belly, which is the richest and fattest part; care should be taken that the slices are not broken, and with each slice a fried smelt be given.

COD-FISH should be helped differently. Cutting from the back to the thin part, crossways, and the sound divided so as to give each person a small portion.

MACKEREL, if boiled, should be divided into four; that is, place your trowel or fish-knife under the flesh at the tail, and raise up the flesh to the head, then divide the side in the middle, giving half of the side to each person, and leaving the bone and head and tail in the dish.

HERRINGS should be helped by giving one to each person.

EELS are always cut in small pieces, and all the attention required is that those which are the largest are the best.

PATTIES AND ENTREES ought to be so arranged that they can be served with a spoon, and require no carving. The roast is therefore the next thing that calls for observation.

A LEG OF MUTTON is, or rather ought to be served exactly the reverse side to a haunch of mutton; that is, it ought to lie on the flat side, and so show the beveled side to the carver. A slice is cut in the center; and then the carver is to cut to the bone right and left, the thick side being most esteemed. The best fat is that which lies at the thick end, near to the bone; there is not much of it, but it is considered a delicacy.

A SIRLOIN OF BEEF.--The most elegant way to cut this joint is by making an incision from the chine-bone to the flap, directly in the center, and helping from either side. However, this is not the most economical way; and therefore it is to be cut thin on the outside, from the chine-bone to the flaps, with fat from underneath. Many people like the under side, or inner loin. If this is eaten hot--and it is best hot--the joint should be turned, and the meat cut across in slices rather thicker than from the top side. Great care should be taken not to splash the gravy in turning, by placing the fork well into the flap, so as to secure a firm hold.

A FORE QUARTER OF LAMB should be carved without removing the shoulder from the dish on which it is served. This is very difficult; but if well done, very elegant. First, then, let us give all the directions necessary for this dish. When it comes before the carver, he should place the carving-knife under the shoulder, and dexterously remove it. Having so done, he should place under the shoulder a slice of fresh butter, and then prepare some salt, cayenne pepper, and the juice of an orange or a lemon, which should be also poured over the part of the lamb from which the shoulder has been separated, and then pour the gravy with the gravy-spoon over the lamb, so that the butter, etc., may amalgamate well with the gravy. You have then the breast and the ribs, and the shoulder on the dish, ready to help your friends. Before separating the ribs, you must cut off the breast, the bones of which the butcher has previously broken, so as to enable you to do it with ease. As, however, many people cannot carve so much in one dish, perhaps the better plan is to place the shoulder on a separate dish, when it can be cut precisely as a shoulder of mutton, and the ribs and breast can be more easily divided and helped. Always take care that the butcher joints the meat, or no man can carve it.

A HIND QUARTER OF LAMB should be carved both as a leg and a loin, giving either part to those who prefer it.

A SADDLE OF LAMB must be carved like a saddle of mutton.

A LOIN OF LAMB should always be divided at the chine end of the bone, and helped in chops.

A HAUNCH OF VENISON OR MUTTON is the leg and part of the loin. It should be cut across, near the knuckle, and then another cut should pass down the center. The slices should be taken from the left and the right of this; those on the left, containing the most fat, are preferred by epicures. The fat and gravy must be equally distributed. These joints should always be served on a hot-water dish, or on a dish with a lamp under it, so as to keep the meat hot. Without one or other of these contrivances, no one should presume to give a haunch of venison to his friends. Before it is sent to table, the cook should pour over the haunch one wine-glassful of hot port wine.

AN EDGE-BONE OF BEEF should be placed on the dish standing on the thickest end. The carver should first cut off a slice horizontally from the end to the fat, an inch thick; but in helping, it cannot be cut too thin, giving to each person hard and soft fat. If cut thick it is hard and indigestible.

A ROUND OR BUTTOCK OF BEEF is cut like a fillet of veal; that is, a slice having been horizontally removed all round, the slices should be cut very thin and very even. To properly carve a large round of beef, a long carving-knife, such as is used in a cook-shop, is necessary.

A FILLET OF VEAL is a solid piece of meat without bone; it is therefore easily carved by any one who possesses a sharp knife; the guard of the fork should be up, to prevent accidents. The veal should be well roasted; for if the gravy is in it, it is very unwholesome. The slices may be cut thicker than beef, and the stuffing should be found in the center, and in the flap which surrounds it.