that it has been cut solely for her. Such economy may be excusable in
the privacy of one's own family, but not in the presence of invited
guests. First divide or carve what you have to serve, and then offer the
choice to your guests.

"To carve and serve decently and in good order" is indeed mainly the
duty of the host; but there is sometimes an unfortunate lack of skill on
the part of the hostess in her share of the serving. A certain pride is
permitted to her, and is expected of her, in serving neatly her tea,
coffee, and soup, in dividing appropriately her pies and puddings, and
even in cutting and arranging deftly the bread upon her board.

A word to the guest, and then we will proceed to explicit directions.

Never stare at the carver. Remember you are invited to dine, not to take
a lesson in carving. Appear perfectly unconscious of his efforts; a
glance now and then will give you sufficient insight into his method.
There often seems to be an irresistible fascination about carving which
silences all tongues and draws all eyes to the head of the table. The
most skilful carver will sometimes fail if conscious of being watched.
With a little tact the hostess can easily engage the attention of her
guests, that the carver may not be annoyed.

Should your preference be asked, and you have any, name it at once,
provided there is also enough for others who may prefer the same kind.
Remember there are only two fillets, or side-bones, or second joints; if
you are the first to be served, do not test the skill of the carver by
preferring a portion difficult to obtain.

Many of these cautions may seem uncalled for, but they have been