ver is genuine silver, and the service is irreproachable, than in a
crowded restaurant where thick dishes rattle down on white-tiled tables
from the steaming arms of the flurried waitress, where there is no
linen, but only flimsy paper napkins (which either go fluttering to the
floor or else form themselves into damp wads on the table), where the
patrons eat ravenously and untidily, and where the atmosphere is dense
with the fumes of soup and cigarettes. But luxury in eating is expensive
and most of us must, perforce, go to the white-tiled places. And the art
of dining is not a question of what one has to eat--it may be beans or
truffles--or where one eats it--from a tin bucket or a mahogany
table--it all depends upon _how_; and the man who can eat in a
"hash-house," an "arm-chair joint," a "beanerie," a cafeteria, a
three-minute doughnut stand or any of the other quick-lunch places in as
mannerly a way as if he were dining in a hotel _de luxe_ has, we think,
a pretty fair claim to the title of gentleman.

The responsibility for a dinner lies with the host. If his guest has had
the same social training that he has or is accustomed to better things
he will have comparatively little trouble. All he can do is to give him
the best within his means _without apology_. We like to present
ourselves in the best possible light (it is only human) and for this
reason often carry our friends to places we cannot afford. This imposes
upon them the necessity of returning the dinner in kind, and the vicious
circle swings around, each person in it grinding his teeth with rage but
not able to find his way out. Entertaining is all right so long as it is
a useful adjunct to business, but when it becomes a burden in itself it
is time to call a halt.

Smoking during and immediately after a meal is very pleasing to the man
who likes tobacco, but if he has a guest (man or woman) who objects to
the smell of it he must wait until later. On the other hand if his guest
likes to smoke and he does not he should insist upon his doing so. It is
a trifling thing but politeness consists largely of yielding gracefully
in trifles.

Old-fashioned gentlemen held it discourteous to mention money at table,
but in this degenerate age no subject is taboo except those that would
be taboo in any decent society. Obviously when men meet to talk over
business they cannot leave money out of the discussion. In a number of
firms the executives have lunch together, mee