In preparing for a party, it is well (especially if you have had but little experience yourself,) to send for one of the _best_ public waiters, and consult with him on the newest style of "doing these things." A respectable coloured man will be found the most efficient for this purpose. He can also give you an idea of the probable expense. We do not, of course, allude to magnificent entertainments, such as are celebrated in the newspapers, and become a nine days' wonder; and are cited as costing, not hundreds, but thousands of dollars.

In case the required waiter should be pre-engaged, it is well to send for, and consult him, a week or two before your party.

We knew a lady who, some years ago, sent for Carroll, (a very excellent mulatto man, well known in Philadelphia,) to officiate at a projected party. Carroll, in very polite terms, expressed that he was engaged for that identical evening to attend at a ball. "Then," said the lady, "you must try to furnish me with some one else, in your place. Where is Bogle?" "I know Bogle can't come," answered Carroll; "he is bespoke that night for a wedding." "Shepherd, then?" said the lady; "see if you cannot send me Shepherd." "As to Shepherd," replied Carroll, "he is sick in his bed, and like to keep so." "Where is Solomon King, then?" pursued the lady; "Solomon King will do very well." "Indeed, ma'am," answered Carroll, "I don't think Solomon King will suit you now, anyhow; he's taken very much to drink, and besides he's dead!"

Apropos to the talk of coloured people.--We were told by a southern lady, that one of her girls being dressed for an entertainment given by a neighbour to the servants, came to her, and said: "Mistress, Becky has come for me to go with her; and she says _her_ mistress has gave her two grand words to say at the party.--Now, I want you to give _me_ two words that shall beat Becky's; for I know you are a heap smarter than _her_ mistress."

"Tell me the words given by Becky's mistress," said my informant.

"Yes, ma'am.--One is _Desdemona_, and one is _Cataplasm_!"

No doubt, Becky, in some way, contrived to say them both.

In engaging your presiding genius, it is well to desire him to come on the morning of the party; he will be found of great advantage in a.s.sisting with the final preparations. He will attend to the silver, and china, and gla.s.s; and see that the lamps are all in order, and that the fires, coal-grates, furnaces, &c., are in proper trim for evening. He will bring with him (at whatever hour you indicate,) his "young men," as he calls them; (if coloured youths, they are too genteel to answer to the name of boys;) and these are his apprentices that he has in training for the profession.

One of these men should be stationed in the vestibule, or just within the front door. On that evening, (if not at other times,) let this door be furnished with a lamp, placed on a shelf or bracket in the fan-light, to illumine the steps, and shine down upon the pavement, where the ladies cross it on alighting from the carriages. If the evening proves rainy, let another man attend with an umbrella, to a.s.sist in sheltering them on their way into the house. The ladies should all wear over-shoes, to guard their thin slippers from the damp, in their transit from the coach to the vestibule.

At the top, or on the landing-place, of the first stair-case, let another man be posted, to show the female guests to their dressing-room; while still another waiter stays near the gentlemen's room till the company have done arriving.

In the apartment prepared as a fixing-room for the ladies two or more women should be all the evening in attendance; both rooms being well warmed, well lighted, and furnished with all that may be requisite for giving the last touches to head, feet, and figure, previous to entering the drawing-room. When ready to go down, the ladies meet their gentlemen in the pa.s.sage between the respective dressing-rooms; the beaux being there already, waiting for the belles, who must not detain them long--men being very impatient on these, and all other occasions.

If any lady is without an escort, and has no acquaintances at hand to take her under their wing, she should send for the master of the house to meet her near the door, and give her his arm into the drawing-room.

He will then lead her to the hostess, and to a seat. Let her then bow, as a sign that she releases him from farther attendance, and leaves him at liberty to divide his civilities among his other guests.

In the ladies' room, (beside two toilet gla.s.ses with their branches lighted,) let a Psyche or Cheval gla.s.s be also there. Likewise, a hand-mirror on each toilet to enable the ladies to see the back of their heads; with an ample supply of pins, combs, brushes, hair pins, &c.; and a work-box containing needles, thread, thimble, and scissors, to repair accidents to articles of dress. Let there be bottles of fine eau de cologne, and camphor and hartshorn, in case of faintings. Among the furniture, have a sofa and several foot-stools, for the ladies to sit on if they wish to change their shoes.

The women attending must take charge of the hoods, cloaks, shawls, over-shoes, &c.; rolling up together the things that belong to each lady, and putting each bundle in some place they can easily remember when wanted at the breaking up of the a.s.sembly.

It is now the custom for the lady of the house (and those of her own family,) to be dressed rather plainly, showing no desire to eclipse any of her guests, on this her own night. But her attire, though simple, should be handsome, becoming, and in good taste. Her business is, without any bustle or apparent officiousness, quietly and almost imperceptibly to try and render the evening as pleasant as possible to all her guests; introducing those who, though not yet acquainted, ought to be; and finding seats for ladies who are not young enough to continue standing.

The custom that formerly prevailed in the absurd days of crowds and jams, when dense ma.s.ses were squeezed into small apartments, of removing every seat and every piece of furniture from the room, is now obsolete.

A hard squeeze is no longer a high boast. Genteel people no longer go to parties on the stair-case, or in the pa.s.sages. The ladies are not now so compressed that nothing of them is seen but their heads; the sleeves, skirts, &c., undergoing a continual demolition down below. We knew of a lady, who, at a late hour, went to a crowded party in a real blonde dress, which was rubbed entirely off her before she reached the centre of the room, and it was hanging about her satin skirt in shreds, like transparent rags dissolving into "air--thin air!" For this blonde she had given two hundred dollars; and she was obliged to go home and exchange its tatters for a costume that was likely to last out the evening.

In houses where s.p.a.ce is not abundant, it is now customary to have several _moderate_ parties in the course of the season, instead of inviting all your "dear five hundred friends" on the self-same night.

When the hour of a.s.sembling is designated in the notes of invitation, (as it always should be,) the guests, of course, will take care to arrive as nearly as possible about that hour. At large parties, tea is usually omitted--it being supposed that every one has already taken that beverage at home, previous to commencing the business of the toilette.

Many truly hospitable ladies still continue the custom, thinking that it makes a pleasant beginning to the evening, and exhilarates the ladies after the fatigue of dressing and arriving. So it does. For a large company, a table with tea, coffee, and cakes, may be set in the ladies-room, women being in attendance to supply the guests with those refreshments before they go down. Pitchers of ice-water and gla.s.ses should also be kept in this room.

If there is no tea, the refreshments begin with lemonade, macaroons, kisses, &c., sent round soon after the majority of the company has come.

If there _is_ tea, ice-water should be presented after it, to all; otherwise, there will be much inconvenience by numerous ladies dispatching the servants, separately, to bring them some.

After a little time allotted to conversation, music is generally introduced by one of the ladies of the family, if she plays well; otherwise, she invites a competent friend to commence. A lady who can do nothing "without her notes," or who cannot read music, and play at sight, is scarcely enough of a musician to perform in a large company--for this incapacity is an evidence that she has not a good ear, or rather a good memory for melody--or that her musical talent wants more cultivation. A large party is no time or place for practising, or for risking _attempts_ at new things, or for vainly trying to remember old ones.

Some young ladies rarely sit down to a piano in any house but their own, without complaining that the instrument is out of tune. "It is a way they have." We have known a fair amateur to whom this complaint was habitual, and never omitted; even when we knew that, to provide against it, the piano had really been tuned that very day.

The tuning of a harp immediately before playing is sometimes a very tedious business. Would it not be well for the harpist to come a little earlier than the rest, and tune it herself previous to their arrival?

And let her deem _that_ tuning sufficient for a while, and not repeat the operation more than once again in the course of the evening, especially in the midst of her first piece. However delicate may be her own ear, or exquisitely fastidious her own taste, she may be a.s.sured that few of her audience would detect any deficiency, if she only went quietly on, and did not herself imply that deficiency.

Unless a gentleman is himself familiar with the air, let him not, on "mounting guard beside the piano," volunteer to turn over the pages for the lady who is playing. He will certainly turn them over too soon or too late, and therefore annoy and confuse her. Still worse, let him not attempt to accompany her with his voice, unless he is an excellent musician, or accustomed to singing with her.

For the hearers to crowd closely round the instrument, is smothering to the vocalist. Let them keep at a proper distance, and she will sing the better, and they will hear the better. It is so rude to talk during a song, that it is never done in company; but a little low conversation is sometimes tolerated in the adjoining room, during the performance of one of those interminable pieces of instrumental music, whose chief merit lies in its difficulty, and which (at least to the ears of the uninitiated,) is rather a bore than a pleasure. We have read a French novel, in which the only child of a farmer has just come home from a provincial boarding-school, and the seigneur, or lord of the manor, has volunteered a visit to these his respected tenants. The mother, amidst all the bustle of preparing a great dinner for the occasion, comes in to remind Annette that if the seigneur should ask her to play for him, she is to curtsey very low, and thank him for the honour. "And then, Annette," adds the good old dame, "be sure to play that tune which your father and I hate so much!"

By the bye, it is very old fashioned to return thanks to a lady for her singing, or to tell her she is very kind to oblige the company so often.

If she is conscious of really singing well, and sees that she delights her hearers, she will not feel sensible of fatigue--at least till the agreeable excitement of conscious success is over.

It is ill-mannered, when a lady has just finished a song, for another lady to exclaim in her hearing--"Mary Jones sings that delightfully!"--or--"How charmingly Susan Smith gives us that ballad!" Let the glories of Mary Jones and Susan Smith rest, for that evening, within the limits of their own circle.

Do not ask any lady for a song that has already been sung on this very evening by another person.

People who have no idea of music sometimes make strange blunders in their requests. We know of a female who, at a large party, hearing a young lady accompany her voice on the national instrument of Spain, became very urgent to have the Battle of Prague performed on the guitar.

It is sometimes fashionable, when the company is not too large for what is called "a sitting party," to vary the amus.e.m.e.nts of the evening by introducing some of the numerous plays or games which are always the delight of fine children, and which, by way of variety, frequently afford much diversion to adults. It is not necessary that all these plays should become "a keen encounter of the wits," or that all the players should be persons of talent. But it is certainly desirable that the majority of the company should have some tact, and some quickness of parts; that they should have read some books, and mixed somewhat with the world--otherwise, they will not be clever even at playing plays.

Those who are incapable of understanding, or entering into the spirit of a play, would do well to excuse themselves from joining in it, and prefer sitting by as spectators. Many young ladies can play nothing beyond "How do you like it?" and are not great at that--saying, when the question is put to them--"Me! I am sure I don't know how I like it--can't you pa.s.s me by?" You may as well take her at her word, pa.s.s her by, and proceed on to her next neighbour; for if she _does_ concoct an answer, it will probably, if the word is "_brush_" be liked "to sweep the hearth with;" or if "_Hat_" is the word, it will be liked "_of Beaver_"--or something equally palpable.

Such plays as _The Lawyer_, and _The Secret Word_, are very entertaining in good hands, but complete failures when attempted by the dull or illiterate. The amusing game of Proverbs had best be given up for that evening, if, on trial, it is found that few of the ladies have any knowledge of those true, though homely aphorisms, that have been aptly called "the concentrated wisdom of nations."

We know a very ingenious gentleman who, in playing the Secret Word, contrives to introduce that word in some very short and very humorous anecdote.

A family, on one side of European origin, made a visit to the transatlantic continent, where they found, still living in a certain great city, a relative connected with an ancient branch of n.o.bility.

This rendered them more genteel than ever--and when, covered with glory, they returned to this poor republic of ours, the names of n.o.bles, and even of princes, with whom they had a.s.sociated, were "familiar in their mouths as household words." At a party where these personages were so engaged in talking, that they forgot to keep the run of the plays; a new game was commenced by a young gentleman slipping out of the room, and then returning with a very lugubrious visage, and announcing, in a melancholy tone, the death of a certain monarch, whom all the company were immediately to unite in lamenting loudly, on pain of paying forfeits unless they steadily persisted in their dismal faces. On the sad intelligence being proclaimed--"The king of Bohemia is dead!"--one of our travelled ladies mistaking it for a solemn truth, turned to her daughter with--"Ah! Caroline! did you hear that? The dear good king of Bohemia, who was so kind to us whenever we attended his court!" "Oh!

mamma!" replied Caroline, putting her handkerchief to her eyes--"the news is really heart-breaking. He paid us so much attention all the time we were in ----, in his dominions. It will be long before we cease grieving for the king of Bohemia."

The gentleman who brought this deplorable news also had recourse to _his_ handkerchief, and slipped out into the hall to indulge his mirth; and several others slipped out after him for the same purpose. No one, however, undeceived these ladies, and for several days at their morning calls they continued to mourn for the king of Bohemia.

Conundrums[18] afford infinite diversion at a small party, provided the company, like Billy Black's cat, "almost always gives up." Long guessing occupies too much time; a commodity of which we Americans seldom have any to spare.

Early in the Mexican war, a premium was awarded in Philadelphia for a very clever conundrum, alluding to a certain "Bold Dragoon" at Palo Alto. "In what manner did Captain May cheat the Mexicans?" "He charged them with a troop of horse which they never got."

Our confectioners, in making up the _bon bons_ called "_secrets_,"

instead of enfolding with the sugar-plumb a printed slip containing a contemptible distich, would do well to have good conundrums printed, (with the answer,) and enclosed in the ornamented papers. They would certainly be more popular than the old-fashioned mottoes--such, for instance, as

"My heart, like a candle of four to the pound, Consumes all the day, and no comfort is found."

Yet the above is one of the least bad. Most of these mottoes are so flat as to be not even ridiculous.

At a dancing party, the ladies of the house decline joining in it, out of politeness to their guests, till towards the latter part of the evening, when the company begins to thin off, and the dancers are fatigued.

We admire a charming girl, who, in her own house, being asked to dance by an agreeable man, has the self-denial to say to him--"Being at home, and desirous that my friends shall share as much as possible in the enjoyments of the evening, I would rather refrain from dancing myself.

Let me present you to Miss Lindley, or to Miss Darwood; you will find either of these young ladies a delightful partner."

These amiable refusals we have heard from our amiable and unselfish young friends, and such, we hope, are heard often in what is _truly_ "the best society."

Ladies who are strangers in the place, are, by courtesy, ent.i.tled to particular attention from those who know them.

We have sometimes seen, at a private ball, the least attractive woman dancing every set, (though acquitting herself very ill,) while handsome and agreeable ladies were sitting still. The mystery was solved on finding that the lady of the house carried her ultra benevolence so very far, as to make a business of procuring partners all the time for this unlovely and unprepossessing female, lest she should feel neglected. Now a certain portion of this officiousness is highly praiseworthy, but too much of it is a great annoyance to the victimized gentlemen--especially to those who, as a backwoodsman would say, are certainly "some pumpkins."

Even the most humane man, whatever may be the kindness of his heart, would rather not exhibit himself on the floor with a partner _ni jeune ni jolie_, who is ill-dressed, looks badly, moves ungracefully, can neither keep time to the music nor understand the figure, and in fact has "no dancing in her soul." If, with all the rest, she is dull and stupid, it is cruel for any kind friend to inflict her on a gentleman as a partner. Yet such things we have seen.

On one occasion we threw away a great deal of good pity on a youth, whom we thought had been inveigled into quadrilling with a lady who made the worst figure we ever saw in a ball-room. We afterwards learned that he had actually solicited the introduction; and we saw that he devoted himself to her all the remainder of the evening. She was a rich heiress.