Kitabı oku: «The Ladies' Guide to True Politeness and Perfect Manners», sayfa 6

CHAPTER X.
DEPORTMENT AT A HOTEL, OR AT A LARGE BOARDING-HOUSE

Now that there is so much travelling in the summer, (and indeed at all seasons,) and so much living in public, to save the trouble and the expense of keeping house in private, it may be well to offer some hints on the propriety of manners that ought to be observed in places where you are always exposed to the inspection and to the remarks of strangers. These strangers, knowing you but slightly, or not at all, will naturally draw their inferences for or against you from what they see before their eyes; concluding that you are genteel or ungenteel, patrician or plebeian, according to the coarseness or the polish of your manners.

Yet strange to say, there are persons who indulge themselves in astounding acts of rudeness, from the supposition that a hotel is only a tavern, a sort of Liberty Hall, where every one has a right to "take their ease in their inn," if they pay for it. Have they no respect for themselves?

It is usual for members of the same party to meet in the ladies' drawing-room before they go in to breakfast, unless the party is large; and then it is not expected that half a dozen persons should be kept waiting for one or two late risers, or tardy dressers. When two or three of the party find themselves ready in the parlour, it will be best for them to proceed to the eating-room, and leave the others to follow at their convenience, by twos or by threes, – always seeing that a young lady, if a stranger, is not left to go in alone. Strangers at hotels can have no particular seats at breakfast and tea, as at these two repasts, they always come to table by instalments, and at no regular time. If a large party enters all at once and they are determined to sit all together, they may occasion much inconvenience to persons already seated, or to the regular boarders, who have their allotted seats. Neither is there any necessity or advantage in six, eight, or ten people, who travel as one party, resolving to establish themselves at a hotel-table all side by side, in a row; particularly when it causes inconvenience to others. Certainly not more than three or four persons ranged in a line can join in the same conversation, or attend to the wants of their friends. Why then should they make any extraordinary point of occupying chairs next to each other. It would be better to divide their forces; and if they can, for half to sit on one side of the table, and the other half directly opposite. Or they will find that if the table is full, and they have to disperse still more widely, they had best do so with a good grace, rather than make any disturbance on the subject. When they quit the table to return to the drawing-room they may be very sure of all meeting again near the door.

Nine o'clock (or half-past) is the latest hour that any guest at a hotel should come to breakfast; and few Americans have so little consideration as to detain the table and the servants till ten or eleven.⁹ At a boarding-house, the guests are very soon made to understand that if they are late risers, they need expect nothing but the cold leavings of the breakfast. At a hotel they find more indulgence. You there choose from the bill of fare such dishes as you may prefer, and they will be brought to you, after you have been supplied with tea or coffee, and bread and butter to begin with. To each person is allowed a separate dish or plate of the articles selected; and it is understood to be for yourself alone, and that no other person has a right to partake of it, or to meddle with it in any way. Yet even from your own dish, never help yourself with the knife and fork or spoon you are eating with; but always use a spare one, with which the waiter will furnish you. Do not eat different sorts of relishes off the same plate. At a hotel there is no scarcity of plates, or of servants to change them. Always take butter with the butter-knife, and then do not forget to return that knife to the butter-plate. Carefully avoid cutting bread with your own knife, or taking salt with it from the salt-cellar. It looks as if you had not been accustomed to butter-knives and salt-spoons.

Ladies no longer eat salt-fish at a public-table. The odour of it is now considered extremely ungenteel, and it is always very disagreeable to those who do not eat it. If you breakfast alone, you can then indulge in it.

Speak to the waiter in a distinct, but not in too loud a voice, and always civilly. Thank him for any little extra attention he may show you. If you do not like what he has brought you, or find that you cannot eat it, make your objection in a low voice, so as not to be heard by the neighbouring guests; and quietly desire him to bring you something else.

It is usual at a hotel-table for each waiter to have charge of three or four persons, and to attend to their wants exclusively. If you are a stranger, ask the waiter his name when he first comes to you; and unless he is not at hand, and you see another standing idle, do not call on any one else to attend you.

If the servants are coloured men, refrain from all conversation in their presence that may grate harshly on their feelings, by reminding them of their unfortunate African blood. Do not talk of them as "negroes,"¹⁰ or "darkies." Avoid all discussions of abolition, (either for or against,) when coloured people are by. Also, quote none of their laughable sayings while they are present.

When the domestics are Irish, and you have occasion to reprove them for their negligence, forgetfulness, or blunders, do so without any reference to their country. If you find one who is disrespectful or insolent, or who persists in asserting a falsehood, it is safest to make no reply yourself, but to have the matter represented to the proprietor of the house; desiring that another waiter may be allotted to you.

It is ungenteel to go to the breakfast-table in any costume approaching to full dress. There must be no flowers or ribbons in the hair. A morning-cap should be as simple as possible. The most genteel morning-dress is a close gown of some plain material, with long sleeves, which in summer may be white muslin. A merino or cashmere wrapper, (grey, brown, purple, or olive,) faced or trimmed with other merino of an entirely different colour, such as crimson, scarlet, green, or blue, is a becoming morning dress for winter. In summer, a white cambric-muslin morning-robe is the handsomest breakfast attire, but one of gingham or printed muslin the most convenient. The coloured dress may be made open in front, with short loose sleeves and a pointed body. Beneath it a white under-dress, having a chemisette front down to the belt, and long white sleeves down to the wrist. This forms a very graceful morning costume, the white skirt appearing where the coloured skirt opens.

The fashion of wearing black silk mittens at breakfast is now obsolete. It was always inconvenient, and neither useful nor ornamental.

After breakfast, it is customary for the ladies to adjourn to the drawing-room, where they converse, or read the papers, or receive early visiters, while the chambermaids are putting the bed-chambers in order. Some who are not accustomed to hotels, go immediately from the breakfast-table to their own apartment, sitting there among the flue and dust during the whole process of bed-making and room-sweeping; afraid to trust the chambermaid alone, lest she should steal something. This is absurd. They should know that the chambermaids (being all considered honest and responsible) are furnished with duplicate keys, by which they can at any time unlock the chamber-doors, and let themselves in, when the occupant is absent. Also, this palpable suspicion of their honesty is an insult to the girls, and is always felt as such. It is sufficient to lock the bureau, the wardrobe, and your trunks. When you go out, (that is, out of the house,) then lock the door of your room, lest some one passing by, should have curiosity to stroll in and look about, and meddle with what they see there.

Should you perceive that the dress of another lady is, by some accident, out of order – for instance, that a hook or a button has become unfastened; or that a string is visibly hanging out; a collar unpinned, and falling off; the corner of a shawl dragging along the floor; a skirt caught up; or a sleeve slipping down, immediately have the kindness to apprize her of it in a low voice, and assist her in repairing the mischance; and, if necessary, leave the room with her for that purpose.

We have seen a lady who, finding that a cluster of her false curls was coming down, had the courage to say so to a gentleman with whom she was conversing at a party. And going openly, and at once, to the nearest mirror, she calmly adjusted her borrowed locks, and returned to her seat with a good grace. Consequently, nobody laughed at the untoward accident; as might perhaps have been the case, had she seemed excessively confused and mortified, and awkwardly tried to hold on her curls till she got out of the room.

If you do not wish to be encumbered by carrying the key in your pocket, let it be left during your absence, with the clerk in the office, or with the barkeeper; and send to him for it on your return. Desire the servant who attends the door to show no person up to your room during your absence. If visiters wish to wait for your return, it is best they should do so in the parlour.

In going in and out, be careful to shut the parlour-doors after you, except in summer. Young ladies are often very inconsiderate in this respect, and cause much inconvenience, in cold weather, to those who do not like to sit with a draught of keen air blowing upon them. Even if you feel too warm yourself, it is rude to throw open a door, (much more to raise a window-sash,) without first enquiring if other ladies have no objection.

There is no impropriety in a lady commencing conversation with a stranger of genteel appearance. You can easily take occasion to mention your own name, and then, in return, she will communicate hers. But, unless you are previously certain of her respectability, have little to say to a woman who is travelling without a companion, and whose face is painted, who wears a profusion of long curls about her neck, who has a meretricious expression of eye, and who is over-dressed. It is safest to avoid her. Also, you will derive no pleasure or advantage from making acquaintance with females who are evidently coarse and vulgar, even if you know that they are rich, live in a large house, and are of respectable character. Young girls who are loud, noisy, bold, and forward, (however fashionable they may be,) it is best also to avoid. They will not want your society, as they are generally all the time surrounded by "beaux," or else rattling over the keys of the piano.

In a public parlour, it is selfish and unmannerly to sit down to the instrument uninvited, and fall to playing or practising, without seeming to consider the probability of your interrupting or annoying the rest of the company, particularly when you see them all engaged in reading or in conversation. If you want amusement, you had better read, or occupy yourself with some light sewing or knitting-work.

If you have no book, you can ring the bell, and send to the reading-room to borrow a file of newspapers; but in most hotels, there are books belonging to the establishment, lying on a table in the ladies' parlour. Be sure not to carry any of these books up-stairs, as they are intended solely for the drawing-room; and their removal from thence is interdicted. Also, never carry away the Directory, the Atlas, the City Guide, or any other book placed there for the convenience of strangers.

If you want pen and ink, or any sort of stationery, you can obtain it immediately, by ringing for a servant to bring it you from the office. In ringing the bell, one pull is sufficient; and always pull the cord downward. If you jerk it out horizontally, and give successively several hard pulls in that direction, the cord is very likely to break, or the knob or tassel to come off in your hand. At the chief hotel in one of the New England cities, we saw a printed paper with directions in large type, pasted beside every bell-pull in the house; the directions specifying minutely the proper mode of bell-ringing. Could it be that this house was frequented by persons unaccustomed to bells?

To return to the too-prevalent evil of uninvited and ill-timed piano-playing, (much of which does not deserve the name of music,) we have always been at a loss to understand how a young stranger, (modest and unobtrusive in other things,) could walk up to the instrument, sometimes almost as soon as she arrives, and rattle "fast and furious" over the keys, drowning the voices of ladies and gentlemen who were talking, and therefore compelling them to cease their conversation; or if they pursued it, obliging them to raise their tone painfully; or to lose more than half, from the impossibility of hearing each other distinctly. To read when piano-playing is going on, is to most persons impossible. There are few readers who cannot so concentrate their attention on their book, as not to be disturbed by any talking that may occur in their vicinity; and if talking does withdraw their attention from the book, it is best that they should read only when alone in their apartment. But we have met with no one who could read in the neighbourhood of a played piano.

If the music is really very good, and accompanied by a fine voice, it is true that most readers will willingly close the book to listen. But if the playing is barely tolerable, or decidedly bad, and if the singing is weak and insipid, or harsh and screaming, or timeless and tasteless, who can possibly wish to hear it; except perhaps a doating father, or an injudicious mother, vain of her daughter because she is hers, and so anxious to show her off, that she encourages the girl to display even her deficiencies.

We believe that our beloved America is not yet the land of music; and that (with many exceptions) her children are generally not furnished with much capacity for it. If there was a true feeling for music, there would be more genius for that charming art, and there would be more composers of original airs, the number of which, in our country, is smaller than in any civilized nation in the world. It is true we have many excellent musicians, and many very good singers, but still, music is not the grand forte of Jonathan. Pity it were, – for he has "a nobler and a manlier one."

Now as "there is a time for all things," we persist in saying that the time and place for school-girls to hear their own music, or to prove that it is not worth hearing, is not in the drawing-room of a hotel, or in the presence of a company that can have no desire to hear them. What would be thought of a young lady, who in a public room, should suddenly come forward and "speak a speech;" or suddenly rise up, and commence, "loud and high," a reading of poetry, or recite a French fable, or repeat the multiplication table, or favour the company with a spontaneous pas seul. And yet we do not perceive that any of these feats would be a much greater evidence of deficiency in diffidence, (to call it by no bolder name,) than the practice of rattling, uninvited and unseasonably, over the keys of a piano. A really good musician is rarely obtrusive with her music, seldom playing unless she is asked; and then, of course, complying at once.¹¹

We repeat that no lady should play or sing in company, unless she knows herself to be universally considered a good singer or player, and capable of something more than the mere series of lessons she has learnt from her music teacher. Also, some punishment should be devised for a young girl who cannot play, yet has the folly and assurance to seat herself at the piano of a public parlour, and annoy the company by an hour of tinking and tanking with one finger only. Yet this we have seen; and her mother present all the time.

The gratuitous exhibition of bad music is said by Europeans to be one of the peculiar characteristics of American young ladies. Let them then "reform it altogether."

Bring no large sewing into the ladies' drawing-room, and nothing that will produce clippings or litter. Whenever you have occasion to write more than a few lines, do it in your own apartment. It is well to have always there a small writing-case of your own, with paper, pens, ink, wafers, sealing-wax, envelopes, post-office stamps, &c. There are very neat little writing-cases, (to be purchased at the best stationers,) that are fitted with receptacles for all the above articles, excepting paper; the whole occupying no more space in your travelling-satchel than a needle-book. The ink is so secured, that there is no danger of its spilling. You may even carry these writing-cases in your pocket as conveniently as a card-case. As writing-paper should not be folded or rolled in packing, lay it flat in a small port-folio, and put it into your trunk. You will find great convenience, when from home, to have with you a little assortment of writing materials.

Except in cases of illness, it is well to decline invitations to visit ladies in their own apartments, unless you are very intimately acquainted with them, or have some particular business. Too much sociability may induce communications too confidential; and subsequent events may prove this confidence to be misplaced. Among the ladies staying at a hotel, there is always more harmony, when they all content themselves with meeting at table, or in the public drawing-room. Young ladies should not encourage daily morning visits from young men boarding at the same house, particularly if these visits are long. In our country, nearly every young man is obliged, in some way, to get his own living; and few can afford to idle away their mornings in loitering about parlours, and talking flirtation. A youth who passes his time in this manner, is a beau not worth having. A man that deserves to be called a good match has something else to do with his mornings. Ladies at hotels should be specially careful not to make acquaintance with gentlemen of whom they know nothing. If a man of notoriously dissipated or immoral character, presumes to request an introduction to a lady who is aware of his bad reputation, let her at once reply that not considering the acquaintance desirable, she must be excused for declining it. It is better thus to keep off an objectionable man, (even with the certainty of offending him,) than weakly to subject yourself to the annoyance and discredit (perhaps, still worse) of allowing him to boast of his intimacy with you.

In conversing with gentlemen at hotels, (and all other places,) try not to fall into the too common practice of talking to him nothing but nonsense. It is a problem difficult to solve, that so many ladies of good abilities and cultivated minds, and who always with their own sex talk like intelligent, sensible women, should, as soon as they get into conversation with a gentleman, seem immediately to take leave of rationality, and demean themselves like utter fools – giving way at once to something they call excitement, now the fashionable word for almost every feeling that is wrong.

We grieve to see a charming, modest, refined young lady, almost the moment a gentleman begins to talk to her, changing her whole demeanour, and quickly becoming bold, forward, noisy, and nonsensical; chattering at the top of her voice about nothing; and keeping up a continual laugh about nothing. Does she suppose he cannot understand her if she talks sense, – or does she think he will like her the better for regaling him with nothing but folly? She is, in all probability, egregiously mistaken, unless the gentleman is himself a simpleton.

Let it not be supposed that we have any objection to that sprightliness which is one of the most agreeable characteristics of youth. On the contrary, we are glad to see vivacity in women of all ages; and if they have a sprinkling of wit and humour, so much the better. But we wish them to do themselves justice; and not, when conversing with men, run wild, because it is with men; and give themselves up to all manner of folly, such as would be pointless, vapid, and insipid, if it was not seasoned with causeless laughter, and with eyes keeping time to the tongue, rolling about in perpetual motion at nothing. We do not wish ladies in conversing, even with men of sense, to confine themselves always to grave discussions on important subjects. On the contrary, gay and lively conversation is always pleasant, when well-timed. But those who have not a talent for wit and humour, had best not attempt it. Again, in listening to a woman of real wit, you will see that it is her hearers who laugh, and not herself.

Persons who have no turn for humour, and little perception of it, are apt to mistake mere coarseness for that amusing gift; and in trying to be diverting, often become vulgar – a word not too severe for things that are sometimes said and written by very good people who wish to be funny, and do not know how. For instance, there is no wit, but there is shocking ungentility, in a lady to speak of taking a "snooze" instead of a nap, – in calling pantaloons "pants," or gentlemen "gents," – in saying of a man whose dress is getting old that he looks "seedy," – and in alluding to an amusing anecdote, or a diverting incident, to say that it is "rich." All slang words are detestable from the lips of ladies.

We are always sorry to hear a young lady use such a word as "polking" when she tells of having been engaged in a certain dance too fashionable not long since; but happily, now it is fast going out, and almost banished from the best society. To her honour be it remembered, Queen Victoria has prohibited the polka being danced in her presence. How can a genteel girl bring herself to say, "Last night I was polking with Mr. Bell," or "Mr. Cope came and asked me to polk with him." Its coarse and ill-sounding name is worthy of the dance.

If you own a lap-dog or poodle, recollect that however charming it may be to yourself, others may regard it as an annoyance; therefore, try to do without it when you are in the parlour of a house that is not your own, and when the company present does not consist entirely of your own family. All but their infatuated mistresses soon become very tired of the society of these animals. Poodles are generally peevish, whining, and snappish, prone to get under chairs and bite at feet, and to writhe about the skirts of dresses. Their faces often look old, withered, cross, and blear-eyed, seeming as if constantly troubled by the hair that dangles uncomfortably in their eyes; and they are seldom healthy. They have none of the honest, grateful, affectionate character common to dogs of larger growth. Though they often inspire their mistress with a love that becomes such a mania as to weaken her affection for all other things, they seldom make friends of any one else. We include what is called a King Charles's dog in the same category. For instance Jip – whose character is as true to nature, and as admirably drawn as that of Dora herself.

Should a visiter come in to see one of the boarders who may be sitting near you, change your place, and take a seat in a distant part of the room. It is ill-manners to remain, and listen to the conversation. It is best for the visited lady to meet her friend as soon as she sees her enter the room, and conduct her to a sofa or ottoman where they can enjoy their talk without danger of being overheard. After the visiter is gone, do not enquire her name of the friend she has just called on.

It is not well to call at the same time on two ladies both living at the same house, (so as to make one visit suffice for both,) unless they are intimate friends of each other, or unless your stay in the city will be very short. If one is taciturn, and the other conversable, she that is silent may imagine herself neglected, by the dialogue being chiefly between those who can talk fluently, as it certainly will be, if the third person only speaks when spoken to, and replies in monosyllables.

It is better to make a separate visit to each lady, on different days. There is another way, and a very good one. For instance, should Mrs. Canning wish to call on Mrs. Austin and Miss Lovel, both inmates of the same house, let her, when shown into the parlour, send up her name to Mrs. Austin first. When that lady comes down, and she and her friend have conversed about as long as the usual term of a morning call, Mrs. Canning will rise to depart, and when Mrs. Austin has seen her to the parlour door, Mrs. C. may say, "I will detain you no longer," or "I will encroach no longer on your time, but I am going now to send up for Miss Lovel."

Mrs. Austin then takes her leave, and goes up-stairs, (her part of the visit being over;) while Mrs. Canning returns to her seat in the parlour, having first rung the bell, and sent for Miss Lovel.

In this manner, two distinct visits may be politely made to two ladies living in the same hotel – and it is very customary.

Any lady that lives at a hotel can in some degree make a return for the civilities received from private families, by occasionally inviting a friend to dine or take tea with her. These dinners or teas are of course always charged in her bill. If she expects a friend, she will previously send to apprize the head-waiter that she wishes him to reserve a seat next to her own, for a lady. She should give her arm to her guest, in going to the table.

If a friend chances to call, whom she really wishes to stay and dine or drink tea with her, she should ask her guest to take off her bonnet as soon as she comes in; giving her the invitation at once, and not delaying it till the visiter is about taking her leave.

Even in a private house, such extemporaneous invitations (which if evidently sincere, are always gratifying, whether accepted or not) should be given immediately, as soon as the hostess meets her guest. There will then be time to order any improvement in the table arrangements that may be deemed necessary.

We often have occasion to repeat, that whatever is done at all, should be done well.

If, while in the parlour of the hotel, you wish to know if a person you are desirous of seeing is staying at the house, the easiest way to obtain the information, is not to enquire round of the ladies present, but to ring the bell, and desire the waiter to go and ask at the office. You can then send a message accordingly. It should be a card with a message pencilled on it.

By sending to the office you may learn where all the public places in the city and its environs are to be found. Also, where the churches are situated.

You may be sure that the most fashionable shops are in the main street.

At any stationer's, you can buy a small pocket-map of the city, folded in a little morocco case. This will be an almost indispensable aid in finding your way. In Philadelphia, the arrangement of the long streets that run east and west from the Delaware to the Schuylkill, has given occasion to the old rhyme of

 
Market, Arch, Race and Vine,
Chestnut, Walnut, Spruce and Pine.
 

If when about to ascend the stairs, you find that a gentleman is going up at the same time, draw back and make a sign for him to precede you. He will bow, and pass on before you. When coming down, do the same, that the gentleman may descend in advance of you.

A very polished man will not wait for a signal from the lady, but will bow and run up-stairs, passing her as a thing of course.

Do not idly detain a parlour newspaper on your lap, for half an hour or more, after you have done reading it. As soon as you have read all you want, replace it on the table, or transfer it to another lady, who may wish to read it, and who may have been waiting anxiously to see you lay it out of your hand. You have no right to monopolize any thing that is intended for the convenience of the whole company.