Side Talks with Girls

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SIDE TALKS WITH GIRLS

BY RUTH ASHMORE

NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1895

The Average Girl

THE AVERAGE GIRL

THE girl who is sitting near you or me, working with an immense amount of industry on a dainty tea-cloth, and putting a great deal of energy in the pushing in of her needle by the little gold thimble, which, she will tell you with a smile, the favored man gave her at Christmas, is the "average girl." In years she is between eighteen and twenty-four; she is whole-hearted, happy, generous, pretty and pleasant to look upon, and very anxious to do what is right. She lives in a small country town, or maybe on a farm, and last summer you enjoyed the long golden days spent in the country with her. Now she is returning your visit, and you, being a polite woman, are making her have as good a time as possible. To-day she is with me, and she knows me well enough and likes me well enough to tell me of her ignorance about certain things. She troubles herself about these rather more than is necessary, for good manners are the same all the world over. And while the average girl may not be fully acquainted with the minor details of social life she is gently bred and kind of heart, and it is impossible for her to make any very great mistake. On a piece of paper she has written about the little things that trouble her, and I am going, as far as I can, to explain them to her so that she may feel less ill-at-ease than she does.

ABOUT THE LUNCHEON

The other day she was invited to a luncheon by a friend of her hostess, and when the time came she had to go alone because her hostess had a severe cold. She had never seen a table as elaborately spread as the one at that luncheon, and she soon realized that she had made a mistake at the very beginning. When she went upstairs to remove her wrap she took off her bonnet also, and when she came down found that she was the only woman, except the hostess and the friends who were staying in the house, whose head was bare. Not a great error, but then the average girl likes to be correct, and with a handsome silk visiting dress proper for this two o'clock luncheon, she should have retained her bonnet and her gloves, removing the latter as soon as she was seated at the table.

Glancing at her place she saw that the two-pronged fork was for her oysters, and realized that if she took up each fork in the order in which it was placed she would get the right one for each course.

The average girl once made a great mistake. Having been invited for half-past one o'clock she arrived at one, to find that the hostess was not dressed, and the drawing-room not lighted. One is asked at a certain time and expected to arrive not earlier than five minutes before it, or, better still, exactly on the minute. She felt embarrassed because she was introduced to nobody. Now, my dear, that you will find customary in most houses, the English idea of a "roof" introduction being deemed sufficient. Where one is an entire stranger, a thoughtful hostess will mention the names of the women between whom one sits, but generally one hears the name mentioned by acquaintances, and conversation is easy. Remember this: Never ask a servant for anything except bread; usually the French roll laid on one's napkin suffices, but if you should wish more bread it may be asked for, or a glass of water. But a second helping is an unknown quantity at a formal affair.

At home the average girl is well acquainted with what is called "high tea" in the city, that is, the serving, about eight o'clock, of hot meats, with dishes of salads and sweets, and where all sit down—a pleasant way to entertain when the late dinner is not a custom. However, the card you have got for the afternoon tea is not of that sort. The tea card invites you to come between four and seven, and you wonder what you should do. You need write no acknowledgment of this invitation, but to be correct you will appear about half-past five, gowned in your handsomest visiting dress, the pretty black silk with its trimmings of velvet and jet, and the little bonnet in harmony with it. If, for any reason, you are unable to go, then in the morning you send by post as many of your visiting cards as there are hostesses, that is, hostesses whose names are on the invitation. These cards are inclosed in the usual card envelope, addressed to the lady of the house, and sealing-wax is omitted.

WHILE AT THE TEA

When you enter you shake hands with your hostess, and with any of the ladies receiving with her with whom you are acquainted, or to whom she introduces you. You are asked by one of the receiving party if you will not go into the tea-room, and there you enjoy a cup of tea, of bouil , a bit of delicate cake or an ice, which is the most that is ever served, even at a formal tea. Unless you should meet many friends, ten or fifteen minutes is quite long enough for you to stay. It is not necessary for you to remove your gloves, and, if you are fortunate enough to have come in a carriage, you will find it more convenient to leave your wraps there, and so be able to make your entrance at once, than if you went to the room dedicated to the caring for one's outer garments. We are all getting to be such good walkers, however, that it is the exceptional woman who, going from house to house, can make her entrance right from her carriage to the drawing-room. Cultivate, for afternoon use especially, a quantity of small talk, about the charm of the hostess, the beauty of the flowers, that blessing to all humanity—the weather, and the last entertainment counted of worth. Never mind if you do say the same thing to everybody you meet, as long as it makes you avoid personalities; there is always wisdom in saying that which makes conversation and wounds nobody's feelings.

A FASHIONABLE DINNER-PARTY

You have never been to one before, and so your cousin, with whom you are staying, suggests the proper frock. It is a light-colored silk made sim , cut out just enough at the neck, and having for sleeves enormous puffs finished by frills of chiffon that come just below the elbow. Your gloves go up under these ruffles, and are, of course, immaculate. Your hair is prettily dressed, and, following the picture fashion, you have put a white rose just at one side of it. A little heart-shaped brooch fastens your bodice at the neck, and a string of small gold beads is about your throat. You know that, even if you possess them, it would be in bad taste for an unmarried woman to wear diamonds or expensive jewels of any kind. In the dressing-room, after the maid has taken off your wrap and straightened out your skirt, you start to go downstairs, walking just behind your chaperon. The gentleman who is to take you in to dinner has been informed of this in the dressing-room by receiving a card with your name upon it, and so your thoughtful hostess presents him to you, and you have a chat of a minute or two before taking his arm and joining the formal procession to the dining-room. Your name card is at your place, and after the little flutter of getting seated you pick up and look at the bunch of violets that is before you, and, unless you are willing to risk staining your skirt with them or crushing them, you put them on the table just in front of your plate, while your escort fastens in his buttonhole the single orchid intended for him.

At the best houses what used to be known as "dinner millinery," which included strips of ribbon and jars of sweets—jars frequently of expensive china intended to be taken home—is no longer seen, for it is counted as vulgar to appear to have to bribe people to come to one's house. Chat with your neighbors on either side, giving the most attention, however, to your escort; but err on the side of shyness rather than of self-satisfaction. Many a nervous girl, bright and witty, is over-eager to be entertaining, and unconsciously raises her voice until it is heard above everybody else's, and her high, shrill, exciting laugh is a horror to the women, who blame her while they pity her. A dinner-party is a formal function, and specially demands dignity of manner. If the Continental fashion is followed, and ladies and gentlemen leave the dining-room at the same time, you go out as you came in. If the English fashion obtains, and the gentlemen remain to smoke and talk, rise when your hostess gives the signal, stand quite still until you see your chaperon, and then fall in line behind her, passing, not too quickly, the gentlemen, who are all standing up and allowing you to walk out before them. Learn to walk well and not to "trot." A dinner invitation should be acknowledged within three hours, and the changing of one's mind about it is never permitted. A witty Frenchman said, "Only death is an excuse for not keeping a dinner engagement, and even then a polite man would send the undertaker to apologize for him."

ABOUT YOUR CALLS

I know it to be true that when you came to town you had for a visiting-card a faintly tinted stiff one, on which was written your name, "Elinor Pegram," in a fine Italian hand heavily shaded. Fortunately for you, your hostess saw this and kept you from making a faux pas. In the place of those rose-tinted ones, happily consigned to their proper resting-place, the waste-basket, you now have rather thin white cards, almost square, with, as you are the oldest daughter, and as your middle name is your mother's maiden one, "Miss Cholmondeley Pegram," engraved upon them. Your visiting-card represents you, and consequently it must be in good taste. This form is desirable because, seeing it, old friends who knew your mother as "pretty Elinor Cholmondeley," will recognize you as her daughter, and make an effort to show you some special courtesies. When visiting leave a card for the lady of the house and for each daughter in society. When you cannot go to a reception or a tea your cards represent you. When you do go you leave your card either with a servant who holds out a silver salver for it, or you put it on the table prepared for cards. This is done because, seeing many people, your hostess may not remember all who were there, and the little bits of thin pasteboard tell of her visitors and warn her of those to whom she owes either a personal visit or a return card. You called one day on a friend who lives very quietly, and who opened the door for you. For her a card must be left also, and as you are a bright girl you can either do it before her, reminding her that you do not intend to let her forget that you came to see her, or you can leave it in the hall when you are alone, for your hostess does not accompany you further than the drawing-room door.

ABOUT YOUR SWEETHEART

You sat and wondered about your sweetheart. As yet your engagement is a secret. When you came to town you let him know where you were, and you expected that he would call that first night, ask specially for you, and that a tête-à-tête would be the result. But he is a well-bred young man who understands the rules of society, and so he did what was correct. He called about five o'clock in the afternoon, asked for your hostess, her daughter and you, and one of them went down with you to see him. When he wished to take you to see a great actor he invited your hostess and you, and he never went to any place with you alone. There were only a few stolen moments when you could say to him just what you wished, but he was acting as society in the city demanded, and showing by his formal behavior his respect for you. When he sent you a bunch of flowers there was one for your cousin, and you were a bit foolish not to value yours as much as you would if he had not sent another. What he did was right, and he would have been counted singularly gauche and awkward if he had done as you wished, and so called forth criticisms in which the words "bad-mannered" would have been most conspicuous.

Do not make the very great mistake of counting elderly women as of no use socially. Of course, you are respectful to them, but you have thought that at social functions they were out of place. My dear girl, the matron is the power behind the throne. She decides whether you are desirable, whether you shall receive an invitation to the most exclusive affair and whether her daughter shall count you among her intimates. It is she to whom the young men go for introductions, and your doom is sealed if she says: "I don't think you would care for Miss Pegram, she is not a girl of good manners." With the passing of youth power comes as a recompense.

THE VALUE OF ETIQUETTE

It seems to you that there is a great deal of formality necessary even about the pleasant times. There is, and it is right that it should be so. If society permitted free and easy manners, lack of punctuality and general thoughtlessness, the whole social structure would tumble over, and, worst of all, woman would not receive the respect and consideration due her. Our little talk about ways and manners will, I hope, be some help to that dear average girl all over the country, who, being an American, has the quickness and brightness making her able to do everything just right, provided the method of doing is suggested to her. She will be, socially, a great success, if being genteel (I like that old-fashioned word) in her manners and her dress, she should be equally genteel in her speech, in her voice, and in her choice of acquaintances. If she is wise she will imitate nobody, and especially will she refrain from imitating the very loud girl who may attract attention, but for whom no gentleman ever has any serious liking.

The Social Life of a Girl

THE SOCIAL LIFE OF A GIRL

BY this I do not mean the society girl, that is, the girl whose whole life is given up to the claims of society, but I mean the girl who, having reached a suitable age, goes to places of amusement, entertains visitors, and no matter what her occupations may be during the day, is supposed to be in the social world. She is, very many times, troubled about how she shall act, how she shall speak, and what is her duty. I think if I were asked what her duty was I should say, "To get as much pleasure out of life as is possible without hurting anybody else, or doing anything that is wrong." The laws of conventionality were made, not that people should enjoy themselves less, but to protect them more, and no young girl can break these laws and be happy, for I can never be convinced that a girl enjoys being spoken of as "fast," or "free and easy," or different from the other girls.

The girl in society who is a bit shy may envy that other girl who is boisterous and rough, who laughs very loudly, who tells and listens to stories and jests that are not quite nice, and who is particularly at ease in the society of men. The shy girl may wish for her composure, but if the shy girl could look into the hearts of the men who are about this girl she would realize that she has no kingdom, and that never for a minute has she been a queen except in her own imagination. Men, when they want comrades, seek other men. What they desire in a young woman is a companion, and one who is totally different from themselves in her ideas and her manner of speech.

IN THE SOCIAL WORLD

You are just beginning to go out; you are twenty years old, and you would like, as is perfectly natural, not only to have the love of women, but the genuine admiration of men. The admiration of all men is not worth having. You believe that you are pleasant to look at, but when you meet strangers you are abashed, the blood rushes to your face, and you don't know what to say. Now a little bit of that is due to self-consciousness; more of it to inexperience. When a man is presented to you you need not expect to enter into an easy conversation with him, as does the woman of forty, but you can get your thoughts away from yourself and answer him as intelligently as possible. Make up your mind to be a little slow in your speech rather than to give a foolish answer, and after you have resolved to do this you will not find it difficult to overcome that silly giggle so peculiar to young women, and which is very often the result of great nervousness and an effort to speak quickly.

Don't be too perfectly certain about things. The positive girl who, the very minute a stranger speaks to her, gives him an answer which she announces is her opinion, and which she permits no one else to doubt, is quite as undesirable as the girl who is afraid to say anything. I think you will be most successful socially if you are willing to learn, and if you never permit yourself, from false shame, to tell an untruth and say you do know of things about which you are totally ignorant. Experience has taught most social leaders that men like to give information, consequently when a stranger has been presented to you, and after the first ordinary commonplaces, asks, "Did you meet the Spanish Princess?" answer yes, or no, as the truth may be, and supplement this by another question, "Did you? And what did you think of her?"

It is not difficult in this world to attract, if one is young and pleasing to look upon.

HOW TO RETAIN FRIENDS

It may be taken as a general rule that no woman can retain her friends who cannot control her temper. What she thinks may be right, but, because it is so, no excuse can be found for her going into a long, quarrelsome argument, raising her voice, and making her hostess and all the other guests uncomfortable. Then people must know that, socially, a girl is to be relied upon; that she is not going to bring the daily worries of her life into the social atmosphere, but that she is certain to bring her mite of agreeableness to add to all the other mites until the perfection of enjoyment is achieved, and the pleasant side of everybody is seen and enjoyed. The woman who wishes to keep her friends must steer clear of vital subjects on which they may differ, religion or politics being especially undesirable for discussion.

RESPECT FOR LITTLE THINGS

Be pleasant and agreeable to all men who may be in your own social world, but give no one man the right to especially claim you until the veritable Prince Charming appears. To retain one's friends one must also respect their social rights, and by this I mean that if their hospitality is accepted one must conform in the way of dress and manner to the standards of one's hostesses; and that girl shows wisdom, who, invited to a very elaborate affair and feeling that she cannot afford even a simple suitable dress, refuses the invitation rather than mortify the hostess by being out of tune in the general harmony.

One has achieved a great wisdom when one has learned how to say "no" in the social world without giving offence. Personally, I do not approve of general dancing, though I see no harm, in fact a great deal of good, in the home dance, but when a girl has a conscientious feeling about dancing she is wisest if she says "no" courteously to the invitation that includes dancing. She has no right to go to a dance and to make her hostess uncomfortable by refusing to do as the others are doing, and by so airing her honest convictions that she impresses those around her with doubts of her belief. What she does not approve of she should not look at. So it should be with any games, or any affair involving late hours, or at which she would meet undesirable people. The saying "no" is right, but it must be said at the right time, that is, it must be said before the temptation arises and before you would be forced to-appear as rude. You cannot accept an invita and refuse to meet your hostess's friends. Once there, you are bound to be polite to them, though afterward you need only recognize them very faintly, and gradually the recognition may die away altogether. It is always permissible to refuse to have a man presented to you if another man offers to do it, but you can never do this to your hostess. You want a form of declination for those invitations which you are sure will place you either in disagreeable positions or among people whom you do not care to meet? Well, here is one that is always courteous and which is, at the same time, truthful:

"Miss Brown thanks Mrs. Charles Jones for her kind invitation for Wednesday evening, and regrets her inability to accept it."

That is a note that can never be questioned, and no hostess is ever supposed to ask one one's reason for declining her invitation.

SOME LITTLE SUGGESTIONS

I realize that in many small places the custom obtains for the young girl of the house to receive visitors alone and that it is very general, but still I do not think it is right. I believe implicitly in my girl, but I want her to make a change about this. Have the parlor the prettiest and most comfortable room in the house, but don't be alone there—have some, if not all the members of the family with you, and let whatever fun there is to the fore be enjoyed by everybody. The most popular girl I ever knew, and one who was most admired by men and women alike, told me that she never knew what it was to see visitors alone until after she was married. All the young men who were acquainted with her said they liked to visit her because they got a chance to have interesting conversation, or sing choruses, and two or three of them were quite used to helping her arrange a bit of supper for the rest. One of them said, "It is different from going to see the other girls; there you go right into the home; at another girl's house you sit in the parlor and after awhile she comes down, and the family stay away from that room as if the plague were there, and the girl acts half silly, and after a fellow goes home he thinks he has behaved like a fool." And he probably has.

If I were you I should arrange my parlor with a view of furnishing subjects for conversation. I'd have whatever illustrated magazines or papers I possessed in full view; any photographs of celebrities; the piano open and the music on it, and end by making everybody take an interest in everybody else. If you want to make the people about you, young men and young women with whom you associate, better and brighter, you must be the master spirit that substitutes that which is interesting and innocent for that which is, possibly, customary and not quite so innocent. It is in your power to obliterate the vulgar kissing games by offering instead interesting conversation, cheerful music, and even puzzling contests for them. Society does not approve of freedom, although it may laugh at innocent frivolity.

SOME OTHER SMALL POINTS

To the girl who wants to know, and who has asked me so many times if she must look after a man's coat and hat, I again answer by saying, "No, let him care for them himself." Neither is it necessary for her to follow him into the hall, unless, indeed, she should be seeing off a party, in which are included some girl friends. The girl in society, if she is a social success, soon learns the value of politeness as regards little affairs. She learns to ignore the using the wrong spoon or fork; I mean ignores the little mistake, and realizes that while it is desirable to fully understand all the minor points of etiquette, they do not absolutely comprise pure politeness, for this, my dear girl, must come from the heart. It is your duty, your social duty, to educate gently, and by example, the various young men who come around you, in the little ways of etiquette which they have ignored heretofore, but which have seemed so easy to you. A clever man once said that he could always tell from a young man's manners the sort of women with whom he associated, and really I think this was one of the best tributes ever paid to the influence of woman.

I do not believe in allowing men to conclude that because you know them well and like them, they can do as they please before you. I saw one man subdue a familiarity on the part of another one evening in a way that was a delight to my soul. There had been a good bit of fun and laughter, and the young man, who was rather lively, said, taking out his cigarette case and looking inquiringly at the young man who had brought him, "I don't suppose Miss Stuart would mind our smoking." Before the embarrassed hostess could do anything more than blush, the other man said, "I have known her for five years and I have never even had the impertinence to ask her." That was a friend in need. Months afterward the young man made his apology, and said that up to that time he had gone among women whom he had treated as if they were all good comrades. Again I repeat that if one wishes a friendship to last, a woman must be a man's companion and not his comrade.

HER QUESTION AND MY ANSWER

"But," says my young girl, "you talk about my being entertaining to young men, attracting them and retaining them as friends. What is their duty? And don't you think they are being considered a little too much?" Well, you see, my dear, I am not talking to young men, in the first place, and then I do not think they are being catered to too much.

Society is formed by the coming together in pleasant intercourse of women and men. Its mainspring is the family. And though our girls are not sold to the highest bidder, nor are they slaves in any sense of the word, still each one realizes that she wishes to marry, because her heart is full of love, and because it is natural to give that love to her opposite. Man, it is claimed, rules all the greater affairs of life, but it has never been claimed that he ever attempted to take away from woman her social prerogative, and this means a deal more than just deciding how to amuse one's self and how not to be bored, for it means building up a wall against wrong and showing the beauty and the sweetness of right.

My dear girl, you can do that. Society is good or bad as women make it, and about you, although you may spend your day behind the desk or be busied in household matters, you can collect the best of society and get the greatest amount of happiness out of it. Have a little confidence in yourself; don't be afraid to think out problems for yourself, and when you have worked them out in your mind don't be afraid to put them in practice, but always with courtesy. Society cannot exist without politeness, and politeness means consideration. The American girl has shown, all the world over, her adaptability. Now let her make the best society wherever she may be. She can do it, for she does not lack brains, she does not lack consideration, but just at times she does not see the value of conventionality. I want her to think over how it protects her; I want her to be the girl in society, popular and pleasant, whose greatest charm is that while she is courteous to everybody, she is always sincere and doesn't make blunders. That is the art of social life.

The Country Girl

GIRL LIFE IN NEW YORK CITY

YOU are one among the many thousands who write to tell me that you want to leave home and make your own living. Apparently you never stop to consider that doing your duty as a daughter is earning your own livelihood; but being possessed of a vague spirit of unrest, you want to come to the great metropolis and enter the ranks of the workers, receiving in absolute money what is considered the value of your work. Have you ever thought out what girl life in New York is? I mean the life of the girl who has to work for the money with which she pays for her bread and butter, the clothes she wears, and whatever little pleasure she has. You have wonderful dreams of independence. You think how you will rise and rise and rise, and with the hopefulness of eighteen you see a great future before you. Suppose I tell you exactly what the life of the New York working girl is. If this will keep one girl at home I shall feel that all my thought has not been in vain, and if one girl is convinced that, by staying at home and helping with head and heart, living out her life as it is planned for her, she is doing right, I shall feel so glad that extra thanks will go up to Him who careth for all, and before whom the rich and the poor are equal.