of Alice Cary that she
had such a happy way of giving introductions as to make each person feel
specially honored. We should introduce a gentleman to a lady, saying,
"Mr. Smith, Miss Jones," if we use this simplest form of introduction,
and not "Miss Jones, Mr. Smith," as is often done. We should introduce a
younger person to an older, unless it be one of our own family, when,
"My aunt, Mrs. Brown, Miss Jones," is proper. We should introduce
strangers to each other at the table and elsewhere before they have time
to feel awkward at not being able to speak. Great pains should be taken
to pronounce distinctly the names of those introduced. Too often each
person hears only his own.

We should speak of people as Mr., Mrs., or Miss, except with intimate
friends, giving particular titles when proper, and never allude to any
one as "Old Smith," or "Old Miss Jones."

To make ill-natured remarks about the absent shows a want of
good-breeding as well as good feeling.

No one should make himself conspicuous in company by loud laughing and
talking. To make remarks intended to be overheard, especially remarks
meant to be funny, is clownish,--and to be a society clown is a very low
ambition.

We must not interrupt one who is speaking, and must pay attention to
remarks addressed to the company. If a person is speaking to us we ought
to listen attentively, even if we are not interested, and not hurt his
feelings by letting our eyes wander from him or showing other signs of
impatience. A good listener is as welcome in society as a good talker,
and often more so, because every one who talks likes to be listened to
with appreciative attention.

Those who have read "The Wide, Wide World" will remember an instance of
little Ellen Montgomery's good-breeding in this respect, when she was
visiting at Ventnor.

"Ellen is a fascinating child," said Mrs. Gillespie, "I cannot
comprehend where she gets the manners she has. I never saw a more
perfectly polite little girl."

"I have noticed the same thing often," said Miss Sophia. "Did you
observe her last night when John Humphreys came in? You were talking to
her at the moment. Before the door was opened, I saw her color come and
her eyes sparkle, but she did not look towards him for an instant till
you had finished what you were saying to her, and she had given, as she
always does, her modest, quiet answer, and then her eye went straight
as an arrow to where he was standing."

When any o