icate."

My guests, save Calliope, all arrived together and greeted me, I
observed, with a manner of marked surprise. Afterward, when I wondered,
Calliope explained simply that it was not usual for a hostess to meet
her guests at the door. "Of course, they're usually right in the midst
o' gettin' the supper when the company comes," she said.

My prettiest dishes and silver were to do honour to those whom I had
bidden; and boughs of my Flowering-currant filled my little hall and
curved above the line of sight at table, where the candle shades lent
deeper yellows. I delighted in the manner of formality with which they
took their places, as if some forgotten ceremonial of ancient courts
were still in their veins, when a banquet was not a thing to be entered
upon lightly.

Quite in ignorance of the Japanese custom of sipping tea while the first
course is arriving, it is our habit in Friendship to inaugurate "supper"
by seeing the tea poured. In deference to this ceremony a hush fell
immediately we were seated, and this was in courtesy to me, who must
inquire how each would take her tea. I think that this conversation
never greatly varied, as:--

"Mrs. Toplady?" I said at once, the rest being understood.

"Cream and sugar, _if_ you please," said that great Amanda heartily, "or
milk if it's milk. I take the tea for the trimmin's."

Then a little stir of laughter and a straying comment or two about, say,
the length of days at that time of year, and:--

"Mrs. Sykes?"

"Just milk, please. I always say I don't think tea would hurt _anybody_
if they'd leave the sugar alone. But then, I've got a very peculiar
stomach."

"Mrs. Holcomb?"

"I want mine plain tea, thank you. My husband takes milk and the boys
like sugar, but I like the taste of the tea."

At which, from Libbie Liberty: "Oh, Mis' Holcomb just says that to make
out she's strong-minded. Plain tea an' plain coffee's regular woman's
rights fare, Mis' Holcomb!" And then, after more laughter and Mis'
Holcomb's blushes, they awaited:--

"Mrs. Sturgis?"

"Not any at all, thank you. No, I like the tea, but the tea don't like
me. My mother was the same way. She never could drink it. No, not any
for me, though I must say I should dearly love a cup."

"Miss 'Viny?"

"Just a little tea and the rest hot water. Dear me, I shouldn't go to
sleep till _to-morrow_ night if I was to drink a cup as strong as that.
No--a little more water, please. I s'pose I can send it b