The Complete Bachelor Part 7

On entering the room, if it is at the a.s.sembly, you will encounter a line of patronesses. You should make a low, sweeping bow to them and, if convenient, speak to your hostess, be it only a few words of greeting.

If not at that time, select a later hour in the evening. No one shakes hands.

You look around to find your friends and acquaintances. At the Patriarchs' the chaperons sit upon a raised platform, or dais, I might call it, all together. Their charges, once away from them, are around the rooms. In nearly all the cities, except New York, every guest is provided with a dancing card, which makes the keeping of dancing engagements a part of the festivity. New York is too large for such things, and dancing cards have been relegated to the realms of innocuous desuetude. However, if you are at a ball or a dance in another city where they are used, your first duty would be to have your engagements filled. You should remain with your partner after each dance until her next cavalier appears.

New Yorkers are sensible, if only for this reason, for having banished the dance card. It is hard for a man to tell a woman he must leave her, but I think it is better by far to do so than to appear rude to your succeeding partner. A woman who has so little regard for you and such selfish consideration for herself does not deserve to be handled with gloves. And yet it needs a heroic soul to abandon her in a crowded ballroom, even if it is to lead her back to her chaperon.

In New York everything is simplified. There exist no such social complications. Everybody is more or less grouped together, and you generally know in which part of the room you are to find your friends.

You exchange greetings with the women you know, and if you wish to ask one of them to dance, you say, "May I have the pleasure of this turn with you?" or "Can I have a turn with you?" It is absolutely impossible to keep dance engagements, and you are obliged, perhaps, to s.n.a.t.c.h a dance whenever you can get it. After your turn you must always manage to stop at about the point where you began. You will be sure to find your partner's chaperon just at that place. There are two reasons for this--one is that the man with whom your partner has engaged weeks, if not months, before (one has to do this in New York) to dance the cotillon has reserved his chairs there, and she has told many of her friends just about in which part of the ballroom she may be found; and another is that New York women, under all circ.u.mstances, keep a distinctive place in a ballroom.

A gentleman never dances without gloves. He always puts them on before entering the ballroom. A man should dance easily and gracefully, and look as if he were enjoying himself. He should be careful about guiding and not running into people. Swinging the hands is vulgar and unsightly.

The waltz seems to survive all other forms of dancing, but there is every now and then a revival of the polka. Two steps and fancy dances are the vogue at summer hotels, but not at smart functions.

The quadrille of to-day is the simple lancers, and some years ago it was a silly fad to pretend not to remember the figures. A little life and spirit are sometimes introduced in the lancers when the gathering is small, and among intimate friends there is more or less occasion for it.

The barn dance has gone out of fashion entirely in America, but our English cousins, especially those living in the country and in Suburbia, are very fond of it. b.a.l.l.s frequently end with Sir Roger de Coverley, the English form of the Virginia reel.

About two o'clock supper is announced, and this is done all over the world, I believe, by the strains of the Priests' March in Norma. So it was in my grandfather's day, and so it is to-day and was at the very last Patriarchs', the very last a.s.sembly, and the very last large ball at Newport. Engagements for supper are made in New York weeks or even months beforehand. You should settle this with your partner, and as supper is served at tables of parties of four or six, an agreeable quartette or s.e.xtette can be secured. Parties are never less than four, and a girl who sups alone with a man, even at the Patriarchs', is considered very fast, and by such impudent behavior would lose caste.

You should arrange with your partner, therefore, to be as near the supper-room door as possible about the supper hour. There is always a rush and a crush, and no tables are reserved except those for the patronesses or the Patriarchs. Two of the party should get in early and reserve the table and wait until the rest arrive. Ball suppers are nearly all alike. Four or five courses, which commence with oysters, are followed by bouillon, and then terrapin and birds, and salad and ices, fruit and coffee. Three kinds of wine are served, and champagne forms the chief. Many matrons even will not allow their daughters to go to supper without being chaperoned, and so when you ask your partner she will sometimes have her parents obtain the table. Should you be asked to the table of one of the patronesses, you will have a partner provided for you. Remember the first engagement should always be kept, and if a patroness should honor you with such an invitation, and you have made prior arrangements, you should at once explain by note your position, which will be a sufficient excuse to your would-be hostess.

After supper the cotillon, or German, as it is sometimes called, is danced.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE COTILLON.

At large b.a.l.l.s, like the Patriarchs', there is hardly time for more than two or three figures and one favor figure. It is almost useless for me to go into the history of the cotillon, and I do not believe that it would be of any service to my readers. We imported it from France about the same time as the English, and it owes its origin, I believe, to Germany. For the past thirty years it has been a favorite form of dance.

It is picturesque and amusing, and, besides, gives the opportunity for the exchange among the dancers of pretty trifles provided by the generosity of the host. At large semipublic b.a.l.l.s like the Patriarchs'

(I use "semipublic" simply because given by a number and not in a private house) the favors are very simple, but at special cotillons or at those danced at private houses they are extremely elaborate and costly.

Cotillon seats are generally secured in the early part of the evening by tying handkerchiefs to the backs of the chairs. At the Patriarchs' and other large b.a.l.l.s they can be secured by arrangement with one of the stewards, as each Patriarch has so many reserved for him, and the man invited by one of them can obtain permission and ask for two of his host's seats. But this is not usual, and is known as a "little trick of the trade."

To be a successful leader of cotillons it requires the skill and the tact of a general--I might almost say of a Napoleon Bonaparte. One's talents should not be altogether in one's heels and one's toes. The leader must be an excellent dancer and a firm disciplinarian. He must see that the wall flowers have an occasional turn, and that every one gets at least one favor. As he has to marshal a large force of people he is bound to find among them--of course in the orthodox society manner--a few turbulent spirits, a few who would mutiny, and who must be taught their places in a conciliatory but positive manner.

The cotillon in New York is generally danced after supper. It lasts about two hours. At large b.a.l.l.s two figures are all that can be danced, owing to the number of guests. Sometimes it is led by two couples. A leader frequently dances stag--that is, without a partner. All men dancing without partners are called stags. These usually have their place by the door and are given their turn last. The leader must announce after supper the time for the cotillon to begin. He must see that the partners are all in their places. The favor table is generally placed at the end of the room opposite the doors, but this depends on the shape and the style of the apartment.

Formerly a cotillon leader used a whistle for the different figures; to-day, however, he simply claps his hands to denote the changes.

It is almost unnecessary here to ill.u.s.trate the form of the cotillon. It consists in waltzes and sometimes polkas, danced by eight, ten, or twelve couples at a time. The couples are seated in chairs around the room, the men without partners known as the stags being near the door.

The leader begins the first figure, which is usually the simplest one, by "taking out" or choosing a partner and motioning the first four, six, or eight couples with places nearest him on one or both sides of the room to rise. All waltz. After a turn around the room the leader stops and claps his hands. The partners all separate, and each of them goes and chooses a new one--the man a new woman, the woman who was his partner a new man. The figure is then arranged and danced. After the evolution required by the figure is finished there is another short waltz, and the dancers return to their places. The leader then calls out the next party, and this is repeated until every one in the room has had a turn. The stags are called out last. Having no partners to dance with, each has the privilege of taking out two ladies--the first before the figure is formed, and the second when the change of partners is signalled by the leader. The leader directs the figures and dances all the time.

Every second figure is one for the distribution of favors. The same procedure occurs, and when the leader claps his hands the dancers separate, waiting for the favors to be distributed. The latest custom is for the leader and his partner to carry around the favors, to the couples whose turn comes next. He gives to the ladies, she to the men.

The scramble at the favor table has been abolished. The men present their favors to the new partners whom they select, and the women do likewise. It is very embarra.s.sing and not good form to give your favor to the partner with whom you are dancing the cotillon. Favors must be sufficient in quant.i.ty not only to go once all around, but there should be some left over, as the advent of the stags gives the ladies a double chance to bestow favors upon men. The most graceful way of offering a favor is to present it with a little bow. Try and locate the places where your friends are sitting. It is certainly rude, if not tantalizing, to search through a long row of girls dangling a favor. It is not difficult in the figures to become well acquainted with the local geography. Matrons are asked frequently to preside at the favor tables, but recently some of the floral trifles are brought in arranged in a sedan chair of flowers, at which two powdered lackeys are stationed, like the linkboys of old. Originality, however, has not been rampant in cotillons. Favor figures are the most popular. The woman who brings the greatest number of favors from a cotillon scores an undoubted triumph.

She comes from the ballroom flushed and delighted, carrying with her the trophies of her victory, which she is pleased to call her "scalps."

Social obligations are often paid off by men in this way.

Of the few cotillon figures danced in New York society, the grand chain is the most popular and the simplest. The number of couples called by the leader form themselves in a ring around the room. At his signal they face each other and dance the right and left grand chain, the men to the right and the women to the left, until the original parties are brought together, when all waltz.

The _Sir Roger de Coverley figure_ is formed in lines of four abreast, the men standing together on the inside, and the women next to their partners on the outside of the line. When the leader signals, the women advance quickly, one after the other, to the head of the line. The men then join hands, forming an arch, as in Sir Roger de Coverley; the women, pa.s.sing under two by two, meeting their partners, waltz with them.

In the snake figure--one which is very seldom danced--quite a large number of couples are called, who form a ring around the room. The leader, taking the hand of one of the men, breaks the chain, and the couples are wound around until they come together in a knot, when the signal is given to them to waltz. The wheel figure is somewhat similar, and is quite a romp.

In the ring figure another evolution is borrowed from the lancers. Rings of four couples form through the room. The men raise their arms and the women pa.s.s through, dancing with the men in the next ring, and so on, until they get to the top of the room, the men remaining stationary.

Then a grand march, men to the left, ladies to the right, is formed, and the partners meet and dance.

The Maypole and all complicated figures which require the use of toys or _papier-mache_ articles are not in vogue in New York. In Paris these trifles, such as vegetables and heads of animals and other gewgaws, pa.s.s for favors, as well as to lend a variety to the cotillon. In New York very handsome souvenirs have superseded these.

Frequently in large cotillons in New York the blank or nonfavor figures are danced only once without change of partners, as in the snake or grand chain; otherwise the cotillon would be interminable. The leader calls out a number of couples and goes through the figure at once, the original partners dancing all the time with each other. I have given both forms, and although the first explanation may seem to those who go out every year antiquated, it is still the vogue for small and consequently enjoyable cotillons.

CHAPTER XIV.

A BACHELOR'S LETTERS.

Letter writing is an art, and there is no pleasure equal to that of receiving and reading a chatty and well-worded epistle from some dear friend. I have some packets of letters preserved to-day that I read and reread. They are always fresh and interesting to me. They are a complete index to the character of the writer, and they serve, after long years have pa.s.sed, to bring up again delightful pictures of days and scenes which were brighter. However, there is one rule a man must observe: never keep a compromising letter--if you should receive one--especially from a woman. Sometimes women are foolish and careless, and they allow their pens to run away with them. They bitterly regret their folly, and the very idea that there exists somewhere a packet of letters which would bring serious trouble, if not ruin, upon them and those they love, is a cause of constant grief and worry. I know that there are letters written by one once dear, but now perhaps turned fickle or false, or separated from us forever, from which we feel loath to part; but we must be men and reduce to ashes what would hurt in the very least degree or cast a reflection upon an innocent if silly woman. Suppose you were to die suddenly, and among your papers these letters were found, with you alone, dumb in death, perhaps, only able to vindicate the unfortunate writer. We must think of those things. They belong to the _personnel_ not only of a true gentleman, but they appeal to our common sense.

Character is frequently judged by handwriting. Write a good, clear, legible hand, without any flourishes, and always use the best and the blackest of ink. The typewriter is employed only for business correspondence.

For social correspondence use only Irish-linen white note paper, unruled, with square envelopes to match. Fancy or tinted note paper of any kind is vulgar. If you have a permanent residence your address can be legibly engraved in one color, usually blue or scarlet, at the head of the first sheet. If you are a member of a club, the club note paper is proper for all social correspondence. If you want to, use your crest in lieu of address, but this practice is somewhat strained in this country. Always add the date in writing. In letters, the day, the month, and the year should be written. In notes you only put the day--for instance, "Sat.u.r.day the twenty-second." The best signature is "Sincerely yours," and not "Yours sincerely." In England the quaint "Faithfully yours" is used for business correspondence. Tradespeople and servants only sign "Respectfully yours."

In America we "esquire" all men who are our equals. A butcher, a baker, a tailor or other person, when we order supplies, we address as "Mr."

The abbreviation "Esq." is the usual form. In England you would write to a duke and address the letter "The Duke of Buckingham"; to a knight, "Sir Thomas Appleby"; to an earl or a marquis, "Lord Dufferin"--that is, supposing the letter would be a social one.

In writing to a friend or in answer to an invitation or a note, you would begin, "My dear Mrs. Brown," "My dear Mr. Brown," or even "My dear Brown," but never "Dear Miss Brown," "Dear Mrs. Brown," or "Dear Brown,"

unless you were on terms of great intimacy with them. But if the letter is a strictly business one, and the term "Sir" or "Sirs" is used, then you would be obliged to drop the possessive p.r.o.noun. A very formal or a business letter would begin thus:

_John Smith, Esq.,_ _# 22 Pacific Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y._

_Dear Sir_:

and not "My dear Sir."

A business letter to a woman demands, however, the possessive "My,"

thus: "My dear Madam."

To a firm, one writes:

_Messrs. John Smith & Co.,_ _Dear Sirs_:

and never "Gentlemen"--a most ridiculous form of address.

The clergy are addressed "Reverend and dear Sir." A bishop is "Right Reverend and dear Sir," and an archbishop "Most Reverend and dear Sir."

In this republican country all other dignitaries can be addressed as "Dear Sir."