The Colonial colors, blue and buff, can be used in the celebration of Washington's Birthday. The floors in drawing-room, hall and dining-room are given an extra polish, and only candlelight from wax tapers in sconces, candelabra and Colonial candlesticks of bra.s.s allowed. For the table decorations take a long, narrow pasteboard box, round the ends, cover it smoothly with buff satin, and make a boat. Fill this with violets and yellow jonquils, resting on a sea of ferns in the center of the table. A tiny reproduction of the original Stars and Stripes made of silk and fastened to a gilded standard place in the prow of the boat. In one corner of the table have a miniature cherry tree with artificial cherries from the milliner's carefully wired on. On the opposite corner, diagonally, have an imitation stump with hatchet sticking in the wood.

In the corresponding corners have white candles with shades in form of yellow jonquils.

ST. PATRICK'S DAY.

Have simply a green plant in the center of the table, the pot being covered with a ruffle of green tissue paper tied with ribbon to match.

Ferns or green leaves may be laid on the cloth around the little dishes holding nuts, olives and green candies.

FOURTH OF JULY.

Have a centerpiece of scarlet geraniums, poppies or nasturtiums, white geraniums, daisies, sweet peas and blue cornflowers. Or have a center basket of ferns, the handle tied with red, white and blue ribbons and tiny flags stuck in the ferns. Red and white and blue satin ribbons crossed on the tablecloth or a border of flags crossed in two's make a pretty table decoration. Or for the centerpiece use a large toy cannon decorated with flags. By the side of the cannon stack air guns or any sort of toy guns in stacks of three.

HALLOWE'EN.

To decorate for Hallowe'en have in the center of the dining table a green jardiniere filled with red and yellow "b.u.t.ton" chrysanthemums.

Radiating from this have red and yellow ears of corn with green leaves between. At each corner of the table a jack-o-lantern and towards the center, baskets made of pumpkins full of red, green and yellow fruit.

Cabbages and turnips hollowed out filled with chestnuts, and carrots used for candlesticks. All set upon mats of autumn leaves on a bare table. The effect is surprisingly artistic.

FOR CHRISTMAS.

The centerpiece may consist of three wreaths joined together and laid along the "backbone" of the table. The central wreath must be considerably larger than the other two. All three may be of holly, or prettier still, the larger wreath of holly, the other two of some decorative ferns. In the center of each wreath is arranged a low flower bowl containing rich red carnations or roses.

CHAPTER V.

HELPS OVER HARD PLACES--HINTS TO THE HOSTESS--DON'TS FOR THE TABLE--THE EMERGENCY MISTRESS--Pa.s.sING THE LOVING CUP.

One's dinner should be distinguished by that elusive element of informality, which tactfully introduced, is the making of a dinner, in quite the same proportion that its ineffectual simulation is the marring of the feast.

The housewife has many emergencies to face. How to work out of difficulties never met with before taxes all of her ingenuity. She must not allow her perplexity to appear if she is dealing with children or servants, as that would cause them to lose faith in her infallible wisdom.

Does company come in without warning and the sense of hospitality constrain one to invite them to lunch or dinner, the careful Martha is ready for the emergency, and if too late to send to market and what is prepared must be supplemented with something else, she has plenty of canned goods in her storeroom and improvises some dainty dish without a suggestion of flurry. If not so thoughtful she graciously serves her guest with what she has, and never by word or look implies that the call is inopportune.

The true "emergency mistress" is the quiet woman whose friends characterize her as having "plenty of common sense." She stores her mind with useful knowledge and her pantry shelves with abundance of supplies; her work basket always has thread of all colors and needles of every size therein. She has patches to match every garment worn by her children.

The American eatertainer is p.r.o.ne to excess in the quant.i.ty which he offers to his guests. He does this out of a mistaken idea of hospitality, not from any fear of being called mean if he should give only a small repast.

As a rule a dinner should consist of not more than five or six chief courses, i. e., soup, fish, _entree_, roast and vegetable, each one served separately, followed by an _entremet_ of some sort, and fruit.

The art of dinner-giving consists in properly combining such dishes as are appropriate to follow each other on the same evening. I have seen a _menu_ composed of turtle soup, salmon, venison and woodc.o.c.ks, all excellent things in their way, but when brought together only leaving a sense of excessive oiliness and richness.

As an _entree_ the _roti_ should consist of game, and vice-versa. The salad served with poultry and game should be green salad with a simple dressing of oil and vinegar. No set rules can be laid down.

It is true the caterer is an important element in the modern art of dinner-giving--he "saves all the trouble;" but he is a stereotyped quant.i.ty. You know just what he will serve, just how he will serve it, and how enthusiastically grateful you would be if he would occasionally leave out croquettes, for instance, and surprise you with a less hackneyed delicacy.

Make no attempt to vary your usual bill of fare. Your guest will infinitely prefer the newness of your dishes to an imitation of her own.

If you live in the country, the home-made bacon and ham will be a real treat; and a ba.s.s, fresh from the river, will be a revelation to one who has only eaten fish after it has been packed in ice. If you live in the city do not attempt to serve spring chicken to your country guest. It is impossible for a town chicken ever to become the tender, toothsome morsel she is used to at home. But the juicy steaks and roasts you are so tired of, are a treat she can seldom enjoy at her distance from markets.

Oriental sweetmeats have become so popular for afternoon tea tables in New York that many shops keep an extensive selection of these piquant novelties. Among the first favorites are candied Chinese oranges; dates, plums and other stone fruit crystallized by foreign processes and stuffed with nut mixtures; Turkish pastes and East Indian goodies of unp.r.o.nouncable names.

When a plate is taken to be replenished always leave the knife and fork on it.

Don't drink green chartreuse. Take the yellow. Also beware of the man who takes sweet soda with his brandy, and a man who wants claret from the ice box.

Use your napkin with a finger behind it, drawing it around or across the mouth. Don't use it like a mop and your mouth as if it were the deck of a fishing sloop.

When two or more forks are at your plate, use the smaller one for fish, or whatever the first course may be. The steel knife is for meat. When you have finished, place the knife and fork on your plate crossing each other. Any good servant will know that you have finished.

Don't fold your napkin unless you are dining at home and intend using it again. And if you are entertaining guests, do not do it then, as you thus indicate that you are determined to save the washing of at least one bit of linen.

Tucking a napkin under the chin as if the user was now to be stuffed like a turkey, is in very bad taste. Lay your napkin across your lap. If it falls to the floor, quietly beckon the servant at a convenient time to restore it.

It is no longer the thing to perfume the water in finger gla.s.ses, or to offer the _bowls_ with slices of lemon in them. So many people have a positive objection to perfume of any kind that its use in this way is discontinued. The pretty j.a.panese custom of dropping a flower or flower petals in the gla.s.s is, however, growing in favor. Usually the flower chosen corresponds with those used in the centerpiece. A few rose petals floating in the clear water are most attractive. Two or three scented violets are charming. At a little luncheon given in honor of an English woman visiting in this country, each bowl contained a water lily.

Some time ago it was necessary to eat asparagus with one's fingers, while to do so today would be to commit an unpardonable sin in the eyes of society.

Don't decorate with strong scented flowers.

Don't serve boiled fish without potatoes.

Don't serve hot _entrees_ on cold plates.

Don't serve more than two vegetables with meat.

Don't serve asparagus with meat.

Don't force a guest to eat more than he wishes.

Don't apologize for the cook.

Don't make excuses for anything.

Don't mention the cost of any dish.

Don't talk politics or religion at dinner, where guests are of miscellaneous beliefs.

Don't p.r.o.nounce _menu_ "may-nu," but "men-ue."

Don't p.r.o.nounce the a long in "a la."

Don't decorate the table with too many flowers.

Don't place more than one plate at each place.