absence would perhaps deter from the
usefulness of The Complete Bachelor. I would, however, suggest a careful
study of that clever _brochure_, entitled Don't, which would refresh the
memory on many points not within the scope of this work. It is really
quite surprising to see how few men have perfect table manners. The
American is unfortunately too often in a hurry. He bolts his food. He is
a victim of the "quick-lunch" system. Again, a bachelor eating a
solitary meal at a club or a restaurant is apt from sheer loneliness to
try and dispose of it as rapidly as possible. Drill yourself into eating
leisurely. Persons of refinement take only small morsels at a time. One
can not be too dainty at table. To attempt to talk while your mouth is
full is another vulgarity upon which it is needless to dwell. The French
have made us the reproach that we frequently drink while our mouths are
in this condition. I fear there is some foundation for this accusation.
Wipe your mouth carefully before putting a glass to your lips. Grease
stains around the edge of a goblet or wineglass are silent but telltale
witnesses of careless habits.

The napkin is an embarrassing article to many men. Its place is on the
lap and not tucked into the shirt bosom or festooned around the neck.
When one arises from the table, the napkin is thrown carelessly on it,
unfolded. The days of napkin rings are over.

Nervous and bashful persons fidget, they do not sit squarely or firmly
at table, their chairs are crooked, they play or gesticulate with their
knives and forks, or they beat dismal tattoos with them against their
plates. These same timid minds find vent for inspiration in the crumbs
of the bread, of which they involuntarily make little figures or small
round balls. The economist, another person on the list, plasters his
food, taking a bit of potato, a little tomato, and a good-sized square
of meat as a foundation, and spreading these tidbits one on the other,
prepares of them a delectable poultice which he swallows at a mouthful.
I pass over the man who leaves traces of each meal on his shirt or his
clothes. Such a being, I have no doubt, would convey food to his mouth
with his knife, would blow on his soup, tea, or coffee with the idea of
cooling it, or would pour the two latter cheering fluids into a saucer
and drink them therefrom.

The caution to keep one's hands above the cloth and one's elbows out of
reach of others, also falls under the head