Etiquette, by Emily Post, Part 9

Sharon Handy (0:02)

Good evening, and thank you for joining me for another Boring Books for Bedtime. I hope tonight's selection provides all the boredom your busy brain needs to quiet down and let you get some sleep. Before we begin, I'd like to give a special shout out of thanks to some new members of our Patreon family. Ingrid, Justin, Lauren, Bernard, Cheryl, Mary, Katie, Vern, Michael, Susan and Emily. Thank you all so much for supporting this podcast. By becoming members of Patreon, you help us remain 100% listener-supported and ad-free for everyone, and it's very much appreciated. If you're interested in supporting Boring Books for Bedtime and finding out more about the perks available to subscribers, including exclusive episodes, fictional readings and giveaways found nowhere else, you'll find a link to Patreon in the show description. You'll also find a link to buymeacoffee.com where you can support us with a one-time tip, no subscription required. I hope you'll take a moment to check them out. Now let's read and relax.

Find a comfortable spot.

Adjust your volume.

Take a nice, deep breath in.

Let it out slowly.

And off we go.

Tonight, let's relax with more about the fine art of living as we continue with etiquette in society, in business, in politics, and at home. By Emily Post, author of Purple and Fine Linen, The Title Market, Woven in the Tapestry, The Flight of a Moth, Letters of a Worldly Godmother, Etc, etc. Illustrated with private photographs and facsimiles of social forms. First published in 1922 by Funken-Wagnall's Company, New York and London.

Let's pick up right where we left off, in the middle of Chapter 12, The Well-Appointed House.

Let's begin.

Etiquette of Service The well-trained high-class servant is faultlessly neat in appearance, reticent in manner, speaks in a low voice, walks and moves quickly but silently, and is unfailingly courteous and respectful.

She or he always knocks on a door, even of the library or sitting room, but opens it without waiting to hear come in, as knocking on a downstairs door is merely politeness. At a bedroom door, she would wait for permission to enter. In answering a bell, she asks, Did you ring, sir? Or if especially well-mannered, she asks, Did Madame ring? Young people in the house are called Miss Alice or Mr. Ollie, possibly Mr. Oliver, but they are generally called by their familiar names, with the prefix of Miss or Mr. Younger children are called Miss Kitty and Master Fred, but never by the nurse who calls them by their first names until they are grown, sometimes always. All cards and small packages are presented on a tray.

Time out and in. No doubt in the far off districts, there are occasional young women who work long and hard and for little compensation, but at least in all cities, servants have their definite time out. Furthermore, they are allowed in humanely run houses to have times in, when they can be at home to friends who come to see them. In every well-appointed house of size, there is a sitting room which is furnished with comfortable chairs and sofa if possible. A good drop light to read by. Often books and always magazines, sent out as soon as read by the family. In other words, they have an inviting room to use as their own, exactly as though they were living at home. If no room is available, the kitchen has a cover put on the table, a drop light, and a few restful chairs are provided.

The Maid's Men Friends Are maids allowed to receive men friends? Certainly they are. Whoever in remote ages thought it was better to forbid followers the house, and have Mary and Selma slip out of doors to meet them in the dark, had very distorted notions to say the least. And any lady who knows so little of human nature, as to make the same rule for her maids today, is acting in ignorant blindness of her own duties to those who are not only in her employ, but also under her protection. A pretty young woman whose men friends come in occasionally and play cards with the others, or dance to a small and not-loud phonograph in the kitchen, is merely being treated humanely. Because she wears a uniform, makes her no less a young girl with a young girl's love of amusement, which if not properly provided for at home, will be sought for in sinister places. This responsibility is one that many ladies who are occupied with charitable and good works elsewhere often overlook under their own roof. It does not mean that the kitchen should be seen a perpetual revelry and mirth that can by any chance disturb the quiet of the neighborhood or even the family. Unseemly noise is checked at once, much as it would be if young people in the drawing room became disturbing. Continuous company is not suitable either, and those who abuse privileges naturally must have them curtailed. But the really high-class servant who does not appreciate kindness and requite it with considerate and proper behavior is rare.