Wednesday, will go to Clutterbuck on Friday!



CHAPTER XIX--DINING-OUT SNOBS

In England Dinner-giving Snobs occupy a very important place in society,
and the task of describing them is tremendous. There was a time in my
life when the consciousness of having eaten a man's salt rendered me
dumb regarding his demerits, and I thought it a wicked act and a breach
of hospitality to speak ill of him.

But why should a saddle-of-mutton blind you, or a turbot and
lobster-sauce shut your mouth for ever? With advancing age, men see
their duties more clearly. I am not to be hoodwinked any longer by a
slice of venison, be it ever so fat; and as for being dumb on account of
turbot and lobster-sauce----of course I am; good manners ordain that I
should be so, until I have swallowed the compound--but not afterwards;
directly the victuals are discussed, and John takes away the plate,
my tongue begins to wag. Does not yours, if you have a pleasant
neighbour?--a lovely creature, say, of some five-and-thirty, whose
daughters have not yet quite come out--they are the best talkers. As for
your young misses, they are only put about the table to look at--like
the flowers in the centre-piece. Their blushing youth and natural
modesty preclude them from easy, confidential, conversational ABANDON
which forms the delight of the intercourse with their dear mothers. It
is to these, if he would prosper in his profession, that the Dining-out
Snob should address himself. Suppose you sit next to one of these, how
pleasant it is, in the intervals of the banquet, actually to abuse the
victuals and the giver of the entertainment! It's twice as PIQUANT to